The Appeal of Chicken Legged Huts

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This is a repost from my side blog, from last summer. It’s just applicable now more than ever. My side blog is where I go when I feel the need to be openly cranky. I don’t post over there that often, but when I do there’s a rawness that shows up that doesn’t show up here that often. I’m busy right now, and am working on getting the links up to date, so you know, expanded repost.

I thought that maybe my time with Baba Yaga had finished.

There have been several things that I have finished this summer, and I have found myself back to where I started on path [literally]. The only way that this would be more literal would be to somehow move back to the apartment I was living in when I was in grad school and started practicing outright.

But I haven’t felt the old hag poking around in close to a month, and honestly, I missed her.

It sounds weird to say that I miss Baba more than any of the other energies that I’ve worked with that wandered away, but I feel like I’m finding my center the most while I’ve been working with her. She is not a pleasant person. I can understand why people shy away from the hags and the crones, and the darker queens. Baba is not a person that you go to for comfort. I’ve heard it said that Frau Holle is who you use as Baba’s balance; she’s the one that you go to when you need a grandmother.

But I don’t need a grandmother right now, I need someone to slap me lightly [who am I kidding, Baba doesn’t do anything lightly-and the folklore shows that] and tell me that I have the wisdom to do this-the wisdom you find in crisis, in fights, in stress, and in the hard times (don’t worry, it’s not as worrisome as all that sounds. July is just always a high energy month for me). Baba is not nice but she’s fair. You put in the work, you see results. You do not deserve a reward just because you asked for something. Baba Yaga is who reminds us that just because you feel as though you are deserving, doesn’t mean that you are actually deserving. Yet.

And frankly it was sort of like being taken halfway on a quest and then being dumped in the middle of the woods. Like, sorry, it’s been real. Find your own way home now.

That’s just it though, if you approach the mysteries with respect, put in the work regardless of how picky, nasty, absurd, and ‘dark’ it seems, you learn how to find your way home. Baba Yaga is not the person you turn to for a fast fix and an easy turn around.

But she’s come back grumbling, leaving a trail of ash and chicken feathers behind her. She’s mouthing off of about other people’s mud and why have I let myself slip on my covering, I’m a respectable married woman [I’m not married, but that’s besides the point] and if I’m not going to learn Russian I need to at least take conversational Polish.

Let me get right on that, Baba.

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