13 years ago, today, I entered circle for the first time. The catalyst for this bold step was a book called Drawing The Light From Within, a book about art.
It was a mild day and I was at Metsokodu, a borrowed house through the woods and down a moonpath from the half-finished and unheated house we were building.
I read about art and the interplay of light and shadow and without another thought, I stepped out onto the porch barefoot in January and cast a circle and called quarters.
Since I wasn't yet out of the faith in which I was raised, my elements were tinged with Christian terminology: The Rock of ages, the Breath of life, the Fire of Pentecost, and the living Waters. Before the circle was through, I'd made my way to the Mother Goddess.
And cast off a thousand weights of other people's designs --and I've never been the same since.
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