I found myself on the path to paganism in the fall of 1998. This is my book of Rainwater with some of my experiences and insights.

December 1998: I'm still keeping my religious category open by remaining pagan. I haven't yet found anything that truly sings out to me. Wicca comes close, but I feel there is something even older than that which I belong to. Most of what I read on the web about Wicca holds close to what I believe intuitively. After two weeks I head home for Christmas break.

January 1, 1999: I'm up at Plattsburgh for New Years with a few of my friends. We take a wonderful walk in the woods and I feel safe and warm (even though it's about -10oF outside). I feel that this is the closest I've ever been to the goddess. The moon is full, what little snow there is on the ground is glowing with a beautiful bluish light and all is peaceful. I am at one with the elements for a time and enjoying the true splendor of this beauty.

February 1999: An interesting month. I wasn't really re-charged when I came back from Christmas break (something about my house doesn't sit well with me and I have a difficult time sleeping there). Valentine's day. A commercial holiday, yes I know, I shouldn't be sucked into it. Yet I am. I'm feeling a little down since I don't really have anyone to celebrate this wonderful holiday with. In the end I turn out ok, just a little down. For some reason though the down time turns into a black pit of which I've fallen into. I still don't know why, but I ran into a sort of funk. Fortunately all bouts of depression come to an end, and mine ended after three very dissident weeks.

March 6, 1999: I'm stuck working in the mailroom for the morning, but the creative juices are flowing and I write the poem that follows. The wonderful thing about this is that I finally find a name for myself...

Dark Girl
` There is this dark, elfish little creature inside of me begging to be let out. Sometimes she's allowed to play. Other times she must sit silently in her corner, pleading with these mischievous shaded eyes.
` Ocasionally she sneaks around and displays a sly smile, curling my lips in unison. My eyes becoming hers, my body lifting in delicate angst. The delightful agony of her assimilation into my being almost too much for my sanity.
` What is the difference between the light and the dark? It seems foggy in my mind. No two sides, just all gray. Strange is the only word I can think of to describe it.
` "I'd like to think I had something to do with it." He says of this dark core pouring gently into my heart. Maybe, I concede. He laughs robustly. Indeed, why he only laughs like that when thinking of dark things. Ironically he only laughs like that when I'm around or he's intoxicated. It's almost a compliment to hear the sound of it.
` So what name for this dark girl? Her naming of Earth Goddess no longer applicable. His naming of Morganna almost too dark just yet. What of Eve? For she was filled with light to start and partook in the darkness. I too have an appetite for apples.
` And Eve of deeper meaning becomes me. Eve, the closing of the day. A time of shadow, where light and dark meet. So Eve it is.
` It begins here. The woman has awoken not long before and all sides have converged. His even darker countenance and her warm face compliment my own at length. Thinking of them creates this chaos in my head.
` A jumble of juxtaposed colors vibrating in a dissident pattern dances on the fray of my memory. It is falling into place now. The script begins to make sense and the improvisation becomes all the more impossibly offbeat.
` And what does she mean? Does it matter? Eventually all things coming down from this whirling high will fall into place, come to pass, and make sense.
` The magic weaves a spell of its own and she opens the door to herself. The newborn witch realizes her own potential and smiles, radiating the blurred edges of light and dark joined in random dissident harmony. She knows her worth and her place in this odd world. It's about time.
` Now for some work. She must keep her chaotically balanced mind busy so as not to disturb this fascinating and queer equilibrium. The scales will trip again, she well knows. This next time she may just go over, but that obstacle lies ahead. Just think in the now.
` Live for today. Weave your spells. Let that dark girl play with the sun-filled likeness of herself. The moon and sun dance together everyday, why shouldn't you as well?

March 17, 1999: St. Patrick's Day. I spend a good deal of the day in transit. I'm traveling to Ithaca over Spring Break. We arrive at Cara's house and take a look around. There's a little creek behind the house and everyone takes a walk down there. As I'm walking around I find some nice little stones. It strikes me that these stones would make a great rune set. I pick up about thirty stones over the course of the day.

March 21, 1999: I get back home to P'burgh from Spring Break. I unpacked my future rune set onto my windowsill. Later in the evening I find the weather to be very fitting for a walk. So I take off by myself into the woods and down to the footbridge over the Saranac. Something tells me that this is a very important journey that will start me on a new path. I cross the bridge somewhat reluctantly and get to the other side, then I turn around and cross back. I feel lifted and powerful. A little known fact about me: I'm afraid of the dark. I have a set of Christmas lights in my room that serve as a night-light. Halfway through the night I get pissed at these lights and unplug them. For the first time all year I sleep soundly without my night-light.

March 26, 1999: A very interesting night. Just want to note several important points: 1) I spent a majority of the evening barefoot. 2) It was only about 30oF outside. 3) Everything that happened was intuitive. 4) Not quite sure what as yet, but Steve and I started something that night. 5) By the way, if you were wondering, both Steve and I came out unscathed (i.e. no candle burns or frost bite for us). What happened is as follows in a story format e-mail that I sent to a pagan group online...
` Well I suppose most of you read about my misadventures with finding a suitable name. If you can stand a long story, enjoy. It not, at least try to skim through it. I really don't have any answers for what happened, but if you have any ideas let me know. This is one of my wonderful true stories and it happened just last night. And I just have to say thank you to my newly defined mentor on this crazy pagan path. So here's the story about a girl and boy who took a walk through the woods...
` These young folk have found an interesting union. They have a very odd friendship that borders on a teacher/student level. The boy being more the teacher and the girl being more the student. They share in one way or another all of their religious experiences. It's nice to have another pagan to talk to.
` One fine Friday evening these two decide to take a walk through the woods behind their dormitory to the footbridge over the Saranac River. For whatever reason they bring all of their most valued magical tools. A deck of tarot for her along with various colored candles and a lighter. Two athames for him (that double as protective pocketknives) and two sets of runes (one he made himself and another that he purchased). Armed with their finest craft they journey through on the path towards a very curious destination.
` They stop at a peninsula-like clearing (surrounded on three sides by wood mind you) and realize that they are standing on a very powerful spot. Oddly enough the light from the glorious moon above spills through the trees to form the rune "gifu" on the ground. This is the rune of union. Just ahead there are two trees that stand out from the rest. These two adventurers stand between these trees and feel a surge of power through them both. This is a special place indeed, but most of their work tonight is for the footbridge. They continue on, driven to the path.
` On the way the boy steps off the path for a moment and pulls a piece of branch off a fallen larger branch (it is probably an inch and a half in diameter and two and a half feet in length). He is not sure why, but he picks it up and they continue on. As they step on the bridge he uses the stick to walk with and pounds out a familiar rhythm to them both. She walks just behind him, even though there is width enough for them both to walk side by side. She starts to dance to this rhythm without really thinking about it and a queer little song sits just upon her tongue to sing.
` Halfway out on the bridge the boy sits and starts to carve into the branch little holes, big enough for the girl's candles to fit into. He turns to her suddenly after carving four holes into the branch. "I know what this is." He says excitedly. "I'm carving an altar."
` She smiles knowingly at him. Everything they do seems to fit, seems to click into place. It feels very much like they've done this before, the girl and the boy, the student and the teacher. They continue on. He picks candles one by one out of the bag and places each on the altar before continuing with the next. He places a black candle in the first hole and lights it. Next comes a yellow candle, then a red candle and a then a white one. He comments that he has never done ritual magic, and the fact that neither student nor teacher really knows ritual magic confounds them even more.
` The girl sits quietly on the opposite side of the altar and they talk as the candles burn down. He suddenly takes a bit of wet wax that was running down the side of the red and yellow candles. He plays with it for a bit, but realizes it has a deeper purpose. He takes his homemade rune set and places a bit of wax on the back of each rune. At one point he burns his hand on the candle, but the girl knows to take his hand in hers and run her fingers over it once. He looks up at her surprised and comments "The pain feels different now." She smiles still at him. "I know." She replies.
` After a time the boy puts his ball of wax on the end of his athame. He looks at her seriously, "Give me your hand. This may hurt." He warns. She opens the palm of her right hand and smiles. The voice in the back of her head tells her that it won't hurt at all. He places the wax in the flame and immediately presses the wax onto her palm. Not only does the wax not burn her, but it also doesn't stick to her hand. The same process is followed for her left hand with the same results. He then puts the wax to his own hands and while it does not burn him it does leave a small dollop of wax upon his palm. He looks at her in amazement and she laughs gently the same look of astonishment crossing her face.
` Eventually the candles begin to die, the yellow one first and the red one second, the black and white follow respectively. The boy knows that he must extinguish the yellow candle with his own hands and so he dips his index finger into the wax quickly and kills the flame. The girl dips her own finger in the remaining wet wax. They do the same for the red candle. He looks up at her after this and says, "Well, I know I'm not supposed to put out the black and the white candles." "But I am." She says quietly. She follows the same process and pushes out the black and then the white flames.
` He begins to pick off all the pieces of wax and pulls the candles out of the altar. "I know this is a waste, but..." He trails off. She smiles, knowing that he is about to throw the wax into the rushing water below them. Just before he does he confirms that he is about to do this audibly and she laughs "I was just waiting for you to say it." She says. He dashes the handful of colorful wax through the fence covering of the footbridge and they begin to stand up and prepare for the journey back.
` He tries with straining muscles to life the altar, but cannot. She smiles at him with a sense of dignity. "I can't lift it." He looks at her. She bends down placing her hands in between his "But I can," and as King Arthur once pulled the sword from the stone, she lifts the altar with ease. He gazes upon her in wonder for a moment, and they continue their journey off the footbridge and back to the clearing. Somewhere along the way, before they really enter the woods he takes the altar from her and starts to lead the way back.
` He speaks without looking back "Why do I feel like the leader?"
` She speaks while spreading her arms out to her sides and opening her palms as if carrying an offering "Why do I feel like I'm offering something?"
` They stop at the clearing between the two trees and he faces her. "We're going to drive this into the Earth." He places his hands one just beneath the other on the top of the altar, holding it perpendicular to the ground. She places her hands just below his and on his mark they lift it and drive down into the ground.
` He lets go of the altar and it falls into her. She holds it almost lovingly. She gets the urge to look towards the sky and does so. He speaks in a voice almost not his own, "As it is above..." She looks down, also driven by the urge to do so. "... So it is below." He looks at her gently; "It is time to go." She smiles reluctantly and lets go of the altar so that it falls softly to the ground. They step over it and he speaks softly, "So mote it be."
` Well gang, that's how I spend my Friday nights.
` Just as a bit of a continuance, while Steve and I were walking back I take my shoes off again. The ground feels springy and inviting to my feet even though it is really cold enough to be frozen. In any case I walk this way until we get to a small tree split into two trees from one trunk by the corner of the tennis courts. I get the urge to put my shoes back on. Also on the way back a little while later, Steve takes the high path on the patio by the dining hall and I take the low path and continue on the sidewalk. We meet again at the hall doors and call it a night.

April 2, 1999: I find myself doing a strange little spell. I take my black candle and start etching the runes into it in groups of five. I then light it and let some of the wax drip onto a little pentagon of paper covered in dried wax. This little pentagon was actually something I made earlier in the year. It's a blue paper star outlined in red ink with my name written on it in the open places. I folded the points of the star in to make a pentagon and covered the whole thing in wax. I placed it under a flower shaped candle at one point and left it on my windowsill for the longest time. I knew I would end up using it someday, but I wasn't sure just for what. I allow the candle to burn down to the very bottom and a small pile of black wax is left on the surface. I pull out the wick and start to smooth the still pliable wax around into a small mound on the paper. It feels very soft and inviting to my fingers. Later on I discover that I etched the runes into the candle in five sets of five, leaving a blank spot for the rune "Wyrd." I thought this interesting so I wrote them down on paper. I realize that I can divine these by the five-rune method and begin to do so.

April 4, 1999: I am walking back home from my friend's house at 2AM. That voice in the back of my head tells me to continue on and take a walk. I stop up to my room, grab my lighter, pink candle and my bag of runes. Then I'm off to the footbridge. Let's just say the whole journey was very odd.
` I head out of my dorm through a door I've never before used. When I walk over to the beginning of the path I also take a round-a-bout route that I've never taken before. I get to the path and have the urge to run. Then I slow and walk for a pace. Then I run again straight to the woods. The voice tells me to stop and hide behind a tree. Just as I do so a truck comes barreling through the woods and turns around to the road.
` I step out from behind the tree and continue on down my path. Just before the dirt road I look just behind me and see a spot that looks familiar. I know that at some point I will walk over this point. When I reach the dirt road I hear some screaming and laughter. The voice tells me that, "you'll see a lot of strange things tonight my dear." I walk a bit and suddenly the voice yells to me to step off the path and hide again. I do so and a short while later the teenagers that were making all the noise pass by me, unnoticed.
` Instead of going back up to the road the voice tells me to continue on through the woods. I am at first reluctant, but the adrenaline high tells me to push on and be an adventurer. I do so and the voice says something to the effects of, "good job, Eve. I wasn't sure of you at first, but now I'm certain."
` I get to the footbridge and instead of going across it I take a path next to it down to the water. I feel a very strong force behind me as if someone were standing there, I realize that it was her. I hear a noise so loud it makes me think that the bridge is crashing. The voice tells me to continue on underneath the bridge and that it'll be ok. I do so and find an older man standing there and a younger man maybe my age sitting with his back to the foundation. I exchange a few passing words with them about the "beautiful night" and continue on. I get the feeling I should look back and I find the younger man watching me walk away. I smile and laugh to myself.
` I get back to the mouth of the dirt road, closest to the footbridge. I pull out my lighter and pink candle. It takes me a few tries but I eventually light the candle and carry it at about waist level. I find it difficult to see past the glare of the candle and I life my head up higher so that I might see past the light. I start to speak in a voice different from my own. I don't remember the exact words but the meaning was understood. I would make similar journeys to this, but only one exactly like this ever again. It would be near the end of my life and I would be blinded by the light in my hands, but the beauty of the dark scene around me would not go unnoticed.
` During this journey the candle goes out twice, as it was a rather windy night. In all I re-light the candle three times. I make it to just before my two trees in the clearing and the candle goes out again. At the end of my journey the voice says, "tonight is your night initiate." I place the candle in my pocket and continue to between the trees. I kneel. I wait. I get the urge to stand and do so.
` I begin to circle slowly to my right three times. When I stop I close my eyes and feel my hands begin to pulsate with power. I bring my arms up to waist level and slowly bring the palms together until they are about two inches apart. I open my eyes and all around me seems lit up. I look at my hands and they too seem a great deal lighter. I put my arms down again. "This is all for you."
` I begin to circle slowly to my left three times. When I stop I close my eyes and feel my hands begin to pulsate with power. I bring my arms up to waist level and slowly bring the palms together until they are about two inches apart. I open my eyes and all around me seems lighted, but with a darker energy. I look at my hands and they seem light in the palms, but the fingers are darker. I put my arms down again and kneel for a bit, choked with emotion and power. "You see so much more."
` I stand up after a time and the voice tells me to walk around the perimeter of the clearing. I start at one tree in particular. I continue to walk in sometimes curvy, sometimes straight lines around the clearing. I walk on the exact spot that I saw earlier and envisioned myself on. "Will my visions become stronger?" She says softly, "with time." I finish my trip at the tree where I started and stand before it. I notice that this tree is actually three trees growing from one base.
` I know now that this night's magic is almost over and that I may go home. Before I go though the voice tells me that she is leaving me for a time. She will remain between my trees and I will journey home alone, but I should wait by the tree at the corner of the tennis courts and she will meet me there.
` I begin to walk and feel a powerful tug at my back. I know that she is leaving me then and I feel destitute and so alone. I look back at my trees and see a vaguely human shape wavering gently there in the shadows. I choke up again, but continue on, on my own. As I walk to the trees I am still speaking sometimes in her voice, sometimes in my own voice. I don't feel her, but I hear her and this confuses and disorients me some.
` I make it to the tree, which is more like two trees growing from one trunk, by the tennis courts and lean my two hands against it. After a bit my hands feel tingly, almost as if they were falling asleep. I realize that the tree is saying hello to me, and I say hello back. I suddenly feel the tree move underneath my hands and I push it gently. It moves more and I move slightly in the opposite direction. I suddenly feel dizzy and disoriented and I know that she has come back to me. I walk along the edge of the trees instead of on the path. I find a small off-shooting path and start to sing as I continue down on it. I sing in her voice and my voice alternating verses for bit. I stop when we realize it is really too dark and unsafe to continue and I head back up the path. I brush the tree branches lovingly and even jump up to touch some of the higher branches hanging down.
` I walk back to my dorm and along the way I take the high path on the patio in front of the dining hall rather than continuing on the sidewalk. The voice tells me that I'm now on the same level as Steve. I continue to my room and sleep the most soundly I've ever slept in my life. I don't wake up once during the course of the night.

April 6, 1999: Early morning: I absentmindedly take some ash from a candle and start to draw on my desk. First "Gifu" the rune of union and then "Mannaz" for humankind and then a blob of darkness for "Wyrd" the rune of the unknown. I take some of this ash and on my left-hand draw "Mannaz." On my right hand I draw a dark blob for "Wyrd" and oddly enough I draw "Gifu" on my forehead. Later on (I decided to pull an all-nighter) I end up sticking my finger into the melted wax of a burning candle and trace over the ash with it. I end up burning myself mildly; it hurts no more than a pinprick and the marks fade away quickly.
` Late morning: I take a walk down the path where I started singing. It is a nice path that follows the Saranac down to the footbridge. I meander my way through, enjoying the nice weather and even speaking to some of the trees, I find them very fascinating. I find the spot where I stopped just a few nights ago when my little candle went out. The exact spot where I stood was different from all the surrounding spots. The grass was dry here, and yellow rather than lush and green. It seems to me that this spot had been drained of its energy during the ceremony. I traced the "ley lines" of the clearing and found that at one spot I was actually tracing the shadows of one particular tree. This tree was rather foreboding, but I wanted to speak to it anyway. Something told me not to, and I realized that there were other people in the clearing with me.
` Later in the evening: I ask that I might go outside since it is so nice. The spell-craft voice tells me no, but like a child I beg and beg until she says yes. I take a walk and instantly get spooked. The whole time that I was out I wanted to go back in but something drove me on. Nothing happened, but I was scared. I wasn't Eve the Priestess; I was Eve the child. I learned my lesson. Don't go out at night to magic places unless intuition tells me to. I can make magic, but only when it wants to be made. Oh, I also talked to the mother and father trees while I was out. They asked me why I was out, as they weren't expecting to see me.

April 7, 1999: I sit typing as usual. I'm finding a few things out. Steve, while still I consider him my mentor, isn't really my mentor anymore. I spoke to him today of the circle of runes that I cast. He told me that he wouldn't try to interpret what I do anymore because "While we're on the same level you're way the hell over here." And he gestured with his hands that I was very far from where he stood in the world of magic, but on the same plane. We are equal in power and I am gaining on him in knowledge, but I am now on a very different path.
` A few nights ago, I don't remember the day so I'm putting it here, I saw the Danae Sidhe again. This time the little bugger was in a grayish robe and had a dark face and thin white circles surrounding black for eyes (like a raccoon). I had just turned out the light to go to bed and the little thing peeked around the corner of my bed. I found it frightening and bothersome, and couldn't sleep well all night. So last night, or rather early this morning, I drew a pentacle on my door and tried to sanctify the space there so that no evil could cross. This was also because of last night's little walk.

April 9, 1999: I find myself talking with Steve in the mailroom after a nice little shopping trip. He notices my bracelet and looks at me curiously. "Did you know your bracelet was the symbol of the goddess?" He asked. I just said huh and he continued to explain. "You see the full moon and the two crescent moons on either side of it? This is the symbol for the goddess." I stood there stunned for a minute or two. The bracelet was all links of the goddess symbol with moonstone as the full moon. I picked it up in Ithaca over Spring break. I didn't know anything about the goddess symbol, the bracelet just kind of yelled, "buy me!" Once again the goddess inadvertently shows herself.

April 1999: I painted a white candle silver with some nail polish (I'm hoping it's not toxic). I ended up burning the wax off the back of my charm. I was very reluctant of doing so, but I knew the timing was right, so I went with it.

April 26, 1999: My bracelet kept falling off all throughout the day. I am wondering if it has anything to do with his visit to me. Pat and I decided later to go out to the bridge, since he's never been there before. We brought some candles and stones. He picked a yellow candle and I picked much to my surprise a black candle. To make a long story short since I don't really feel like typing it all up...
` We went down to the bridge and lit our candles after securing them to two flat rocks. It was rather windy so it was difficult keeping our candles lit. We talked for awhile and he noted that the wind wasn't really blowing on us. He also noted that it was blowing our candle flames in different directions at the same time. We later formulated that the wind was actually circling each candle individually and blowing to their hearts content. Something didn't want us out on that bridge.
` In any case eventually some police come and ask us some questions about an assault that occurred shortly before we got there. This wasn't too strange, except for the cops themselves. One practically materialized on the other side of the bridge and the other two came from the side nearest us. The two from our side didn't talk at all, but the "ghost cop" did all the talking for the three of them. Just thought it was a little odd. Oh yeah and we were in a kind of time warp. It felt like we were out there for hours when we had only been there for 20 minutes. After that we were going to let the candles burn down and go. Mine went out first and rather then wait for his to go down we just left.
` We exchanged rocks and continued on our merry way. Only noting along the way home that we screwed up the time that we told the cops we were there and decided to go to public safety and change our story. Then we discovered what seemed like sitting there for only 10 minutes after the cops left was actually a half-hour. Fucked up night indeed.

February 26, 2000: I haven't written in a long time, as is my usual habit. A few things to talk about this time around.
` A few nights ago I walked home from dinner with a ghost. He met up with me around Kent hall, by the river. I started singing "Glory, Glory Hallelujah" and couldn't stop singing it until I got to the door at MacDonough Hall. I remembered feeling fear, but a dead calm at the same time. The two emotions kept surging up and fighting for dominance. I also remember thinking I was going to die soon (although I think that was the ghost's thoughts penetrating my own).
` Also, I did a tarot reading for Pat earlier today (and part of yesterday). It was astonishingly accurate, but he was on Rochester, and we were talking over the computer. I believe it's the same principle as doing readings over the phone.

I will add more here when I get the chance, but I really haven't been this involved or screwed up in a long time.

Ciao for now