Author: ANGorniak

I am a clinician, a writer, and an educator who finds meaning in facilitating the healing and transformation of others. I am a Brigidine and a Druid practicing mostly within the framework of Ár nDraíocht Féin. Scholarship is important to me as one way of knowing, but it is not the only one that informs my life and work. Certainly, my devotional relationships and engagement with my ancestors, the persons (human and otherwise) who surround me, and my gods do as well, often in ways that can be difficult to articulate but which I value. I reside in Texas, a land whose beauty echoes in my blood and bones. I am a former foster youth, queer, and learning to live with rheumatoid arthritis and fibromyalgia. My clinical and research work as a psychological professional focuses on trauma and its sequelae, on healing and post-traumatic growth for people and families and systems, and on working in ways that are Pagan and LGBTQ+ friendly. In my free time, I read voraciously, play tabletop games and DnD, enjoy classic cocktails, study herbalism and garden, bake, play with fiber arts, and enjoy exploring with my husband and pups.

Wound Wood

There is a calling I kindled in the dark house;not a place I visit but my first home.In that seed space, a yearning arose.It cried out in a voice I recognized but could not yet know,with a language older than our human throats.I hear it even now echoingin the murmur of water over stoneand the … Continue reading Wound Wood →

Visiting

She gave me a gift, as I sat beside heron the cold stone, damp seeping into jeansand woodsmoke into everything,eyelashes wet with praise,with the gladnessof her warmth and the echoof her hammer andthe sweet upwelling of her watersin a parched heart, she said,"It does not have to be bright to be brilliant." She spoke with … Continue reading Visiting →

A Prayer for Faith in my Humanity

I know the sharpness of hunger in the belly,in the heart.Scarcity dogs my steps,a story written in refusal to live.You whisper in my dreams,bidding me to be in this world as I am of it.I am afraid to trust;I cannot do your work without it.Bright Lady, help me know my darknessas well as I know … Continue reading A Prayer for Faith in my Humanity →

A Prayer to Menkar

Menkar, star of Cetus,I know what passion drives youTo ensnare, to dissect, to flavor our understandingWith the fruits of devouringAll that lies beneath, between, within.Menkar, salt-maker, turning poisonTo preservation, to medicine, to vitating agentWith your firm walls imprisoningThat which, transmuted, makes us live.Menkar, ill-fortuned, you shineIn my heavens, sun-touched as the seasYou would constrain, contravene, … Continue reading A Prayer to Menkar →

A prayer to Cetus

Cetus, churning in the deeps,Creating currents, cycling the depths That feed our lives, our souls, Through which arise that potentientiating chaos,A wellspring of all that may yet be.The muscular rasp of scales sliding, sinuous In heaving, heavy darkness Is an answering churn within me.Great Beast, may I come to know My own deep rhythms,To ride … Continue reading A prayer to Cetus →

I come back.

I come back. Again and again, I come backto these questions,gnawing, hunting some deep nourishmentfound only in cracking myself open, a marrow of belonging with which to feed the world.

Vessel

I thought I had to be hollow, a space for all this vast beauty,as I made of myself a healer for all who would find rest.I did not know my own belly rumbled. I did not know my steps were kenningsnor my heartbeats a calling. I did not know that the only choice not given … Continue reading Vessel →

Our Mother Is Dying

Today I am gratefulfor the ways that I am broken.Cracked open,with rough edgesthat soften to the world, invitingthrough voluptuous sensitivitythis upwelling of celebrationthat is griefas the pain of our being sings through me,and I know that I belong.That I can be longing,a cry in this darkthat draws us to ourselves, cohering,clotting, clothing ourselvesin love and … Continue reading Our Mother Is Dying →

Reverie

Love, I think, asks at least as many questions as it answers and one of them is "what do you bring alive in me?" which is really asking "what do I bring alive (allow to come into being) in myself in response to you in my world?" A mouthful of language to swallow, choking as … Continue reading Reverie →

To the Cross Above the Door

Your golden tassels rustle softlyas I lift you from your place,a gentle sigh as at the end of a busy dayfull of rushing and strangeness. It is time again to lay you down on that soft shrine,the dust and ash of many offeringswiped away with water that stirs heart and bodywith the quickening scent of … Continue reading To the Cross Above the Door →