Witch Seeks Employment: Cover letter

Dear Future Employer,

I humbly submit my application for the advertised position, as I believe that I am uniquely qualified. I’ve been known to spin straw into gold, but only when the blue moon is on a Tuesday in a leap year when mars is conjunct my natal sun.  I fart rainbows, sweat sunshine and can fly.

I’m a kindler of infectious enthusiasm, and pied piper of inner-children, whimsy and cheer. My smile once launched a thousand ships, unfortunately; they were all smashed on the rocks of foolish idealism. Though all was lost, they died happy and singing my praises to the tune of “100 bottles of beer on the wall.”

Due to the God Pluto once losing to me in a game of gin rummy, I can have enlightenment or material riches, but not both. I may not have made the right choice. Thus, my application for this position.

I am on a first name basis with the elephant in this room. He’s agreed to be my character reference, but he is very judgmental, so I don’t like him much.

My fastest speed for changing from executive power suit to superhero suit in a phone booth is half the time it takes to actually find a phone booth. I once resolved a hostage crises using nothing but my smartphone, while grocery shopping with a toddler and a baby, and still saved $24.99 with coupons.

With only my own body and holistic living I created two entirely new human beings, then fed them for free for a year. They were so cute they both won blue ribbons at the state fair.

I have skills so fearsome that they require special permission by city council to practice in this county. I can travel to anywhere in time and space and never leave the room. And yet, have not divined how best to trade these skills to make a mortgage payment.

With this minimum wage position, I know that together we can take over the world, but in a loving, egalitarian way, of course.

Thank you for your consideration,

Heron Michelle

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Heron Holds the Moon ~ Photo by Lauren, used with permission

There’s A Safe Pot to Piss in at the End of the Rainbow

There is no room in my witchery for homophobia. Wait, check that; there is no room in my witchery for -phobia of any kind. Sadly, I realize this is not true of all witches, but I see the God/dess incarnate in every being, expressed through infinite diversity. We are all the Love of the Two Who Move As One; we are all equally precious and Divine; Love is my religion.

Fear is the Path to the Dark Side ¹

a sign reading "the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing" by edmund burke

Photo by Heron Michelle

Moreover, as a citizen, business owner, mother, and the priestess of a coven with many GLBTQ members, I have a moral conviction to work for the betterment of our society for all. I cannot blithely abide the legalized violation of civil rights to any citizen. To stand by and do nothing is to tacitly condone this harm, and I have this witchy little creed about that.  This is no time for “subtlety.”

Fear Leads to Anger

The point of my Witchcraft praxis is to purify me of my fears, work through my phobias, and awaken me from the illusion of separateness. I believe every single human on earth is sent here to enjoy their lives, love and learn from each other, present challenges and evolve through them. So, all phobias are there to instruct, and then be cured through my connection with Divine Love.  The heart of my witchery beats to the rhythm of personal sovereignty and the responsible pursuit of happiness.

“All began in love, all seeks to return in love. Love is the law, the teacher of wisdom, and the great revealer of mysteries.” ~Starhawk, Spiral Dance

 

“An do what you will be the challenge,
So be it in love that harms none,
For this is the only commandment,
By magick of old, be it done.”
~The Witch’s Creed, Doreen Valiente

a sign reading "the Earth is the Mother of all people and all people should have equal rights upon it" by Chief Joseph

Photo by Heron Michelle

Have I mentioned recently that I live in North Carolina?  Yup. We’ve had quite a month of controversy here. I live in a state now infamous for HB2, “Public Facilities Privacy and Security Act,” better known as “the bathroom bill.”

This nightmare that was rushed through a special session by our GOP legislators is now state mandated discrimination of the most dastardly order. This is why we can’t have nice things, like work at high-tech jobs with Paypal, host championship games, or go to Bruce Springsteen concerts, and rightly so!  Bring on the boycotts and travel bans, America! With no fool a season spend, nor be counted as our friend.² If a bigot invited me to a party at their house, where I knew they were coercing some of their other guests into dangerous and humiliating situations, I wouldn’t attend, either.

Click HERE to continuing reading this article at the Patheos Pagan channel, on the Agora Blog.

You Can Lead a Witch to Circle, but you Can’t Make them Coven

This post was originally published on March 8, 2016 on the Agora blog on Patheos Pagan Channel. To read this article in its entirety, find it here…

I was recently reminded of how misunderstood the ideas of “perfect love and trust” are within our Witching communities. Perhaps if we all came to understand the power of this social contract, we wouldn’t have so much strife among us. <sigh>

In my own classroom and coven, “perfect love and trust” are words invoked so often, and with such depth of meaning and and breadth of application, that I’m sure they are THE reason that we’ve made it a whole six years, and counting. Today we have this thriving, healthy, balanced group of exceptional people doing the Great Work with such grace; I am bursting with love and pride for them all.

a young adult woman smiling and giving the thumbs-up hand sign

I was recently tickled pink when the priestess of a neighboring coven asked for permission to include my old “Heron’s Four Rules of Modern Witchcraft” blog in their own teaching materials, saying, “I think this [blog] says so much to clarify in plain English the nitty-gritty issues that are so important in being successful and happy not only as members of a Coven or Tribe, as students or teachers–but as participants in this wonderful life of Witchcraft.” Of course I was thrilled to have our hard-earned lessons be put to good use in a new teaching circle. In other news, next week I travel to Philadelphia to teach these very subjects to a group of witches there. These honors almost went to my head.

Hot on the heels of their flattering requests, I was reminded that not everyone who’s come through my program left as satisfied or as successful as others.  The Universe is like that, keeping me motivated, then making sure I remain humble. So, in that same in-box I also received nasty-grams full of personal insults about my failure as a teacher, leader, and friend.

a young adult woman with a look of dismay showing a thumbs-down hand sign

I’d like to tell you that this is the first nasty-gram I’ve ever received from a former friend and coven-mate. I’d like to say my heart no longer breaks when they arrive; that I don’t take these punches directly in the solar plexus and am sent into a tail-spin of self-scrutiny and the mourning over lost love. What can I say? I’m a Piscean, and I take these critiques very seriously.

Keep Reading…

Valentine’s Love Spell

Valentines Day is tomorrow, and I’ve heard the dismissive excuses a few times already: But isn’t that just a “hallmark” holiday? Hallmark makes Christmas cards, too, but I rarely hear folks bitchin’ about that as if a marketable product should put us off of our fun celebrations.

Or how about this one: I don’t “do” Valentine’s day because love should be celebrated everyday. I agree, but then again, death happens every day, too, yet I make a point of honoring death as a concept on Samhain.  The Wheel of the Year system gives sacred space for all parts of the cycle in due time, and seeks balance between them,  I think that after Imbolc tides shift just past 15 degrees Aquarius and begin to wane onward towards Ostara, it is a GREAT time to celebrate romance and love of all flavors.

a digital graphic of heartsIn the mythic poetry I enjoy at this time of year, we welcome back the Goddess, renewed again as the young maiden, rising from the slumber of the previous turning like the slender shoots of crocus flower, peeking through the snows. The God is welcomed back as the Lad, a wild young buck, or the tiny buds on the limbs. I envision them both like teenagers, full of innocence and daring, with the plucky stealing of kisses, and the hot flush of their cheeks; they are the thrill of promise.

I feel this connection to Their power whenever I do something romantic, or my sweetheart does something romantic for me.  That being said, romance is only one expression of love to enjoy.  “Singles Awareness Day” jabs are another way folks rain on my parade. PISH, I say!  Oh ye of little imagination! If you waste a good Valentine’s day whining about what you don’t have, rather than celebrating all that is possible, well…that’s not very effective Witchcraft.

Here is what I’ve learned about Divine Love so far: The only heart prepared to receive love is the heart already opened from the giving of love. Making the effort to openly give and receive love of all kinds, will set your vibes a’hummin’. If you want to be a “heart-throb,” you have to start with your own heart, Law of Attraction, and all that. May I suggest that rather than being a Grinch and grumping about this time of year, that you let your heart grow a few sizes and get into the spirit of the season with your friends and family?
To continue reading to my spell to find your ideal paramour, the full post is on my Witch on Fire column at Patheos.com.

Broom Closets and Bible Belts: 10 Tips for Your Coming Out Party

This article was originally posted on Patheos Pagan Channel on The Agora Blog on January 26th, 2016. The entire article can be found at this link.

I’d wager that many of you fine readers have struggled with the problem of being the odd-ball witch or pagan  struggling to find acceptance in a family of Evangelical, fundamentalist Christians. That is a thing that happens down here in the bible-belt with alarming frequency, especially for young adults just starting out, and can be really challenging.  For 15 years, I lied and hid who I really was from my mother, and most of our family, which was both miserable and pitiful. I regret how I handled things. Here are a few tips to consider, should you choose to come out of your broom closet, too.

Bonnybbx / Pixabay.com

I’ve written several articles about my mother, her death and funeral, and my journey to reconcile my upbringing with my newfound witchery. On my article about how she haunted me after she died,I received this comment with a very important question:

Heron – looking back, what would/could you have done differently while your mother was still alive? I find myself exhausted by life in the broom closet, but our mothers are much the same in their religious perspective and I’m not prepared to sacrifice my family yet.  ~CB

What would I do differently?

If I had a do-over, I would find a way to show her the respect of an honest adult relationship, and come completely out of my “broom closet” for her to see.  I’d brave the storm of condemnation it could cause in the beginning, and openly be the woman of conscience that I was called to be–just like she was. I would do so lovingly, respectfully, but firmly, regardless of her approval. She never gave a damn what people thought of her convictions. That is a pro-tip I learned from her.

I’d like to give her the chance to understand the fulfillment I’ve found through my unorthodox choices. I have no doubt that we would grow through adversity with each other, as she faced the fact that a beloved daughter became a priestess of a different Deity, and I faced the challenge of standing proudly on my sacred ground without flinching under her fire. I’d like to think that as that priestess of Aphrodite, I could set a high standard of unconditional, Divine Love, grace and beauty with my mother, and then allow her the chance to rise to that standard with me, until we found peace.

Easier said than done, I know. I go back to the commenters question and my eyes keep falling on the word sacrifice.  “Sacrifice my family…”

But how would I “come out” without sacrificing my family? That is the key to this question. The truth is, that when I began the tippy-toe steps out of the broom closet, one consequence was that my eleven year long marriage did eventually end, in no small part due to my religious convictions. So *I did* sacrifice one form of family that I valued very much. Though, I found other forms of family that were far better for us all, I can assure you that it was for the best.

I’ve thought on this question for a while and I must admit that I don’t have any sure-fire answer to what works, but through blundering experience I do have a story to tell, and I’m a story-teller, so I’ll start there: My mother and I had already gone down this road part-way, when I admitted under duress that my ex-husband and I weren’t Christians. Therefore, the odds of us taking our small children to church to learn about “the fear and admonition of the Lord” (no kidding, she used exactly those words) were pretty slim. Just for context, I was 32 at the time. It was also 9 months before her eventual death and she had no idea I’d just self-initiated to Witchcraft and helped form a coven.

To keep reading click here.

Why I am Still a Witch

[Originally posted on my column, Witch on Fire, on Patheos Pagan Channel.]

This month at Patheos there is an ongoing discussion on the “Future of Faith in America” asking each of us to answer this question:

Why I am still a ________ (insert name of your religion here.) 

Why do I still embrace this wyrdly wandering, beautiful and horrifying, rapturous and humbling path? Goooood question, my lovelies!  Why, oh why, do I do this, particular, thing?

Aphrodite and Hermes Altar / Heron Michelle

Aphrodite and Hermes Altar / Heron Michelle

Insanity not withstanding, the first answer that pops to mind is that This Thing is just who I have always been.  Whether I’m *doing* the praxis, the mechanics of religion, or not, is beside the point.  Frankly, I am not a person of “faith;” either I know, and I know why, or it gets none of my power.  Despite what any naysayer may think, my brand of Witchcraft has no time for “superstition” but all kinds of room for mystery, wonder and poetic, mythic truth. I can hold the space for the unknown, without succumbing to irrational fears.

Click here to read the rest on Witch on Fire…

A Love Message for Women

A message I feel compelled to post, perhaps because one of you needs to hear it just now:

MoodyGreen

Moody Green: Painting by Heron Michelle

The wounded women of the world often bitch about how there are no good men left out there, or that all men are the same: philandering, heartless, mindless animals. For a while there I was one of them. Those are the wounds talking. We are projecting our fears in a broad stroke over 50% of humanity and that is assholery at it’s finest. Besides, if animals are what we expect to find in all men, then that is all we will find, regardless of who is standing before us. The blinders of our wounds will unfairly reinforce our suspicions. Humans will rise or fall to meet our expectations. Don’t burn the Witch.

Furthermore, there are just as many men suffering from the wounds inflicted by careless women of the world who abused the intimacy of their relationships, deeply scarring the men in their lives.  Women are equally guilty of being the “bad guy.”  Responsibility to be the sort of person you think everyone should be begins and ends with you, and there are no good excuses for harmful action.  Don’t be the Asshole.

Hurting people hurt people. What is the common denominator in every failed relationship you’ve ever had? YOU. The good news is that you have the power to change YOU, and the power to choose which relationships you feed. We are personally responsible for ending the cycle of woundings by attending to our own healing, breaking the chain of abuse, and being strong within the sphere of our own influence. Don’t be the Weak Link.

BE THE CHANGE YOU WISH TO SEE IN THE WORLD. You are in charge of you. At the end of the day, no one else can be blamed for the choices you make, the relationships you are in, the way you speak to others, your actions, and your thoughts. You must be present to win.

“The only heart prepared to receive love is the one already opened from the giving of love.”
Namaste,

~Heron

Heron in Flight…to New Hampshire!

Well, the deed is done. My first posting on The Agora page at Patheos is up.
I’m both excited and a wee bit nauseated. As we approach the Blue Moon in Leo, I hope that this new opportunity will bring good things, that ego and drama stay in their rightful alignment, and benefits flow for all involved. So mote that be!

Witch on Fire: Lammas Sacrifice and the Sacred Mission

Tomorrow morning,  I fly up to Boston to be greeted by my sweetheart–who, for the record, just drove 35 hours from Utah to pick me up at the airport and help me bring the vending equipment and camping needs. Isn’t he just the best fella ever? <dreamy swoon> <sigh> He then joins me as we continue the journey to Templefest, in New Hampshire, the Lammas Festival hosted by The Temple of Witchcraft.  Here, I will be presenting a few of my workshops and vending my custom hennaed leather goods, and offering henna body art.

If you are in the area, come and say hello!

Friday, 7:30 pm: Red Tent
The Great Work: Elements, Sun, Moon and Stars for Magickal Advancement

This workshop offers an approach for spiritual and magickal work by integrating the tides of Elemental, Solar, Lunar and Astrological cycles,  thus laying out a year-long map of energetic tides, and planning magickal workings within the Wheel of the Year to experience a deep spiritual exploration, with balance, for the advancement of your personal evolution.

Sunday 11:00 am: Yellow Tent
Thealogy of Perfection: Four Rules of Modern Witchcraft for Sovereignty

A comedic, yet memorable, approach to the thealogy of “Perfect love and perfect trust,” and the explorations of what it means to be a sovereign Witch, co-existing beneficially in a world of Divine Love.  These “Four Rules” form the cornerstones of my teaching, weaving together answers to questions like: What do we mean by Divine Love? What is “harm” and how can I do no harm, but take no sh!t?  How can I evolve my power and ability, while regaining healthy balance, in alignment with my highest Divine Will?  How can a group of sovereign witches work together as a coven without Witch-splosions? These guidelines offer a beneficial perspective to any magickal/spiritual practice, drawing inspiration from the sacred poetry of Wicca, Hermetic principles, and direct revelation from the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite/Venus.

 

My inventory of hennaed leather products.

My inventory of hennaed leather products.

Lessons in the Blood

It was just a little over a year ago that I almost perished. I wasn’t taking good care of myself, worried over money and skipping meals. I worked long hours one day, and other than the coffee at work, neither drank nor ate adequately. That night, a friend showed up at the shop with a bottle of wine, and we drank a few glasses on an empty stomach. Not advisable.

<Flash forward>

It is the witching hour (3:00 am) and I wake up with a thirst so great that it actually felt like a life or death emergency–complete with sense of panic. I rushed to the kitchen with only the moonlight through the windows to guide the way. I was in a cold sweat, yet burning hot, nauseous, and my arms felt heavy when I raised them to the cabinet for a glass. I stood there in my white nightshirt as the filtered water from the fridge door dispenser poured in. I turned into the doorway to the living room intending to sit down and made it one more step, having not yet taken a single sip…

I’m guessing that low blood pressure, possibly low blood sugar, and obvious dehydration caused me to faint. I know now that I had a ridiculously low vitamin D deficiency, too, that maybe had something to do with it.

faint

I have no idea who these perfomers are, but don’t they look theatrical with their fainting?

Fainting is something you see in the movies a lot more than it actually happens in real life. I’ve never seen anyone *actually* faint, so it was just a caricature to me–a movie stunt.

What happened next is remembered more like an out-of-body experience. The memory is of “throwing” my consciousness across the room, visualized like an old, men’s overcoat, heavy and thick, and that it crumpled with a clunk across the coffee table as if the pockets were full of rocks.  I remember a disembodied sensation of violent, awkward pain, as my chin met the edge of the coffee table, that my head almost wrenched free of my neck. I felt very heavy and boney as my chest scraped down the edge of the table, and that the floor hit me rudely hard. This memory is two-fold, both that I was the “coat,” so irreverently cast aside, and I was also observer who threw me and watched me crumple and thunk.

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Where I woke up in the living room next to the TV Cabinet. OUT OUT DAMNED SPOT!

How long I lay there, I don’t know. It felt like a long time that I lay bleeding into the carpet, dreaming.  Eventually, I realized that I was very cold, and wondered who stole my covers. Followed closely by, why am I sticky? Slowly I became aware of my blood-wet hair clinging to my face, tangled in my eye lashes…that there were blue lights too close to my face for this to be my bed…oh yeah, those are the lights from the Wii in the TV cabinet….

Where am I? Why am I…?

That is when I noticed the searing pain and touched my face.. that sticky wet was everywhere. Then the nausea…and the gut-wrenching thirst. I tried to sit up, but when my head was raised higher than my heart, I nearly fainted again.  So I marine crawled first to the bathroom, leaving a trail of bloody prints on floors, light switches and counters. I wanted a mirror…but seeing what I was at that moment didn’t help. I thought I’d drink from the sink, but the black edges would crowd in whenever I stood up, and there was no cup.

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One of the places I fainted briefly, crawling back through to the kitchen past the original glass I dropped.

I crawled on hands and knees back through the broken glass I’d dropped in the living room to get to the kitchen again, fainting once in the middle, creating a second bloody puddle, but I made it to the kitchen sink and guzzled down cup after cup of tap water as fast as I could between stints lying on the cold vinyl floor.

I think I lost consciousness a total of 4 times, briefly, before I made it back to my bed, threw back the blankets and lay there under the ceiling fan on the white sheets, so not caring what I was ruining. I was covered in my own blood from head to feet, in a flop-sweat, heart racing, and praying to all that is holy that I may keep living.

I did consider calling 911. I will confess to you that, at that moment, I chose to tempt death rather than rack up a medical bill I have no ability to pay. I wanted to call the man I was engaged to at the time, but it was 4:00 in the morning, and he lived 3 hours away. I knew he would pack his kids into the car, and drive directly to me, but that would only cause him difficulty, and to what end? So, I chose to persevere and not send him into a crazed panic on the highway.

I honestly thought I might die alone in the dark.  Mind you, I am not in the least bit afraid of dying, when the time comes.  Actually, I look forward to the Next Big Adventure, while being in no hurry to get there, but as I lay there praying to my guides, focusing on the Reiki energy I tapped into, and allowing the water to work it’s magic, I thought about many difficult things.

I thought about how in recent years, I’d been bricking myself into a tower away from the intimacy of true friendships, for fear of losing anyone else that I loved. If I keep them at a distance, I can keep them.

Anger I thought long dealt with welled to the surface; anger at my ex-husband for leaving me to be alone at this moment. Even anger that he had my 11 and 9 year old children at his house and I had no one to cry out for. Where was my promise of “in sickness and in health?”

Then, I thought of my mother who had been in a loving, inspirational marriage, but as fate would have it, died almost 7 years before, snuffed out in a matter of moments from a cerebral hemorrhage while alone. My step-dad was out of state on a fishing trip. Mind you, she called her mother who lived two doors down, and she came running to find her brain-dead on the floor. *My* mommy is dead; I live far away from my family. So who do *I* call to come running?

I thought about many things as I waited for those life-giving waters to work their way through my system. What if I *did* die at that moment?  How long would it be before someone noticed I was missing at work? Courtney, my co-worker, would probably find me…would have to call…I dunno…who do you call when you find someone dead? That thought caused me to feel embarrassed, an imposition, not fair to her…

Who would comfort my children? Who would soften the harshness of their father who does not tolerate the expression of unpleasant emotions?  Would someone else carry on running The Sojourner? I spent time thinking of all the work still left undone.

I remembered, to my horror, that I’d never updated my will since my divorce!  The nurturing of my children, all my assets, and all my dreams, would fall to the person who’d treated me like last week’s garbage, then dumped me off at the curb; all my endeavors would go to shit if I died, and that was reason enough to live!

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BRAINS! Yes, I am posting a zombie picture of me for all the internet to see…I’ve selectively clipped it so as to protect you from the worst of it.

Drinking the water was enough to restore me.  Eventually, I got up, faced myself in the mirror, and took this picture for proof of the horror I’d become. Then I sat in the shower as the water swirled with red down the drain.

In the end, I needed a few band-aids, an aspirin and a few months for the giant knot of a bone-bruise on my chin to heal on it’s own. I am glad I did not waste thousands of dollars of my kid’s grocery money on an ambulance trip because I was too careless to drink a glass of water and have a meal while they were gone.

Moments of clarity like these do not happen randomly, not to witches. These kinds of revelations are like the Universal Gong ringing so loudly in your consciousness, that all your thoughts just fall into harmonious rhythm with Highest Divine Mind.  It is sometimes called the Cosmic Clue-by-Four smacking you upside the…chin…in this instance. You can’t help but walk away from that moment a transformed person.

I realized how precious and delicate human life truly is; how stupidly easy it was to kill yourself through neglect.  I also realized that it was very important to me to live on and raise my kids myself.  I know now that no matter who I have in my life, my home, my heart –ultimately– I entered this life alone, I am solely responsible for my survival while here, and I’ll depart this life alone, but it is up to me to make that trip a healthy one. I was reminded that I have to cultivate the support structure of relationships that I desire.

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See? As my little children would say, all I needed was a “boo boo bandaid” to make it all better…

This all comes to mind because the wheel of the year turns back to these anniversaries once again; of that long hard stare into the maw of death last winter; of the long-distance engagement that ended shortly thereafter on my 40th birthday, of my mother’s death on the day of my 33rd birthday party.  While I recognize the passage of these difficult milestones in time, today I am grateful for the lessons they taught me —  yet did not kill me — so that I can enjoy the miracle of my life as it is unfolding now, with the correct people.

You know how witchy folks like to say that every moment is both a death and a rebirth? Those were just the labor pains that delivered me into this new, independent life I enjoy as I prepare to celebrate my 41st birthday. It has been a bumpy ski down the slope of that “hill” I went over last year, but DAMN what a thrilling ride!  I couldn’t be happier, and I’m much healthier now.

Thank you, Cosmic Clue-by-Four. I remain open to your lessons, but next time, I humbly request that the experience not leave my house looking like a scene from Pulp Fiction, nor require professional carpet cleaning to remove blood from ALL THE THINGS. Though, I’ll keep these scars as a gentle reminder.

Happy (almost) birthday to me!
Cheers!
~Heron

Vegan Recipes: Thai Autumn Squash Casserole

Thai Autumn SquashAt Thanksgiving this year, I set out to recreate my favorite holiday flavors as vegan dishes because I’d invited my sweetheart to join my family, and as far as I’m concerned, the way you love someone is to respect their personal choices in support of their health.  That being said, there is absolutely no reason that creative people must suffer through anything less than the yummiest of foods. You truly can have your vegan, gluten-free cake, and eat it too! Yes, we made a ham and deviled eggs for the omnivores, but on the side-dishes, going vegan was not only easy to do, but stunningly delicious! Necessity is the mother of invention!

I started this “Thai Autumn Squash” recipe as an answer to the age old “sweet potato casserole” requirement we seem to have in my family. I have never liked that dish, floating in marshmallows and cloyingly sweet. So, I began with the basic idea in my Autumn Harvest Bisque recipe, but rather than a soup, I aimed for a whipped and baked in a casserole dish idea. Plus, my sweetheart made some amazing tamari roasted pecans that I used as a topping!

Thai Autumn Squash Casserole (Vegan, gluten free)

3 acorn squash, prepared

1 butternut squash, prepared

1 granny smith apple, peeled, cored and chopped

1/2 cup diced onion

1 tablespoon chopped fresh garlic

3-4 tablespoons extra-virgin organic coconut oil

3 teaspoons yellow curry powder

1 tablespoon chopped fresh ginger

1 tablespoon chopped fresh lemongrass

1/3 cup mulled apple cider (mulled with clove, cinnamon, allspice and orange peel.)

1 cup coconut milk

6 tablespoons organic, gluten-free tamari sauce

1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1/4 teaspoon berbere powder, or paprika

1/4 cup maple syrup (Organic,Grade B is best.)

1 cup chopped sweet tamari pecans

Pull out your electric mixer, if you have one.

Ahead of time you can mull some apple cider by slowing warming on the stove, or in a crock pot, a gallon of apple cider with 1 tablespoon each of whole clove, whole allspice, and an orange peel, with 1 cinnamon stick. Let soak for a few hours, then remove the spices and enjoy as a warming holiday beverage, but save out 1/3 cup for the squash! Prepare your Sweet Tamari Pecans ahead of time, according to this recipe over at Lipbone Redding’s blog, but try not to eat them all! Save about 1/2 cup for the squash.

Autumn squashes are notoriously tough and difficult to peel. I think it is easiest to just prick the skin of the butternut squash with a fork a bunch of times, then put in the microwave on a plate, and cook on high for 5 minutes, then give it a cold bath in ice water. After it has cooled enough to touch, the peeling should strip away with a vegetable peeler pretty easily. Cut in half, scoop out and discard the seeds/pulp, then dice up the remaining squash. IMG_8409To prepare the acorn squash, I quarter them, scoop out and discard the pulp/seeds, then place raw side up in a casserole dish with about a 1/4 inch of water in the bottom, cover with foil, then bake at 350 degrees for about half an hour. Remove from oven, let cool. I then use a spoon to scoop out the squashy goodness, discarding the peels. IMG_8411Go ahead and peel/chop the apple, garlic, onion, ginger and lemongrass. In a large, deep skillet, (I used my electric skillet) heat up the coconut oil over medium high heat and saute the onions until glossy, then add the acorn and butternut squash. Saute for about 5 more minutes, then add the apple, garlic, curry, ginger and lemongrass and the mulled apple cider. Reduce heat to medium, and stir frequently for 5-10 more minutes as the liquid reduces and it caramelizes a bit. It is done when the apples are mashable.Remove from heat and transfer to a mixing bowl, get out the electric mixer, if you have one.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. With the electric mixer, whip the vegetable mixture with the coconut milk, tamari sauce, black pepper and berbere powder (or paprika) until smooth and fluffy. Taste-test and adjust salt and pepper to suit your preference. Spoon into a casserole dish and smooth flat. Sprinkle the chopped sweet tamari pecans evenly over the top, then drizzle the maple syrup over the top. Bake at 350 degrees, uncovered, for about 30 minutes. VOILA! This recipe served 6-8 people with left-overs.

See also my Vegan Recipes: Marinated Collard Greens post.