There Is Much Work To Be Done

It’s funny how validation can still, after 20 years of Magick, rock me.  It’s one thing being confident in my own Magick and getting things done, but it’s another thing entirely when you get such swift and stark confirmation shortly after you’ve done Magick.

Remember Beltane this year?  I was all nervous and unsure because I did a spell to draw the right kind of love into my life.  It came to full fruition early this month.  So that’s a two month turnaround.  Quick!  Even for me!

On Thursday the 12th I found a perfectly peaceful dead Crow on my doorstep.  He was only barely decomposed and perfectly whole.  I found no trauma on the body.  I am not ashamed to say I may have squealed with glee and immediately grabbed my work gloves (although the new Guy I’ve been seeing, I will refer to him as ‘J’, totally saw me do that and there was a moment of awkward before I realized that he was completely unperturbed).

On Friday the 13th (amusing!) I rose early to fetch the dead Crow out of the bottom of my freezer.  J was so completely unperturbed that he decided to help me with the whole thing.  We laid out newspaper in the backyard, beneath the arms of the enormous Oak Tree and I smudged the space.  I burnt Kyphi as I gently and respectfully communicated with the spirit of the animal, asking it’s permission, before processing it’s lovely body for use in future Magick.  J gently clipped the feet for me and stretched the wings out for me as I quickly cut the sinew and bone.  We placed both wings and feet in a bucket of cornmeal to draw out the moisture.  I gently wrapped the body in a clean towel, took it further into the shadows beneath the Oak tree and buried it.  We built a small stone cairn on top of it and I marked the day, three months out from then, to dig it up and check on decomposition.

That evening I went to Circle and during my Journey I met with the Crow.  I asked if there was anything else I could do for him.  He told me he greatly enjoyed the incense and that he would like an offering of raisins.  I placed a plate full of raisins out by his cairn, along with a burning stick of incense and smiled when the offering was completely accepted in two days time.

This last weekend was my Drum Workshop which I had been breathlessly waiting for for about a month.  My 15inch, 16 sided, Elk-hide drum was painstakingly assembled, completely by me, over the course of 3 days.  The first night, I met with the spirits of the Elk as well as the Cedar that made up the frame to give thanks for their sacrifice.  I painted the inside of the frame with personal sigils as well as my magical motto (per aspera ad astra).  And I encircled the entire outside rim of the frame in Runes.  I did the entire Futhark, no repeats, in blood red, and I sang them as I painted so technically it was runegaldr.  The second day was pure assembly.  I lost myself in the task, pulling the sinew taut, stretching the damp, cold skin over the frame.  I was struck by how very dead the skin felt, cold and clammy.  I even dreamt about it that night.  The third day (yesterday) the drums were dry and there was much rejoicing!  We Journeyed to meet the spirit of the Drum…

I wasn’t sure what to expect on that Journey so I was going into it with a very open mind.  I had my drum laying across my stomach/lower abdomen with my left hand entwined in the laces and the beater was aligned down the front of my sternum, my right hand clutching it as I Journeyed.  I found myself in a huge cave, dimly lit by torches.  My Guides and Totems were nowhere to be seen which kind of alarmed me as there’s always at least one of them by my side when I am Journeying.  But I could feel them at a distance, like they were watching from a ways off.  I kind of shrugged and turned my attention back to the cave.  I was in water up to my ankles as I stared off into the deep dark of the cave.  I walked forward, feeling the cold water rise to my knees.  Then to my hips… At about chest level I had another bout of slight trepidation.  The water was deep and pitch black.  All before me was black and my Guides were not near.  I pressed on and slipped under the water.

I swam down, leaving all light behind.  The water was cold and black, nothing stirred other than me.  Then a current picked up and began pushing me.  The more I swam in the direction of the current, the more it picked up strength and speed.  All was still blackness as I sped through the dark passage.

Suddenly the world exploded in light as I came shooting out of a hole in the side of a sheer cliff face.  Everything seemed to stop.  (It really was like bullet-time on the Matrix!)  I was hovering in mid-air, soaking wet, water all around me, the canyon floor thousands of feet below me.  Panic surged as I hung there in a horrific but pretty fucking exhilarating stasis.  I thought about how bad it was going to suck to hit the ground from that height, even in Trance that kind of thing hurts.  The frozen second seemed to hang forever, my fear and panic began to wind up like the wail of an ambulance, until time unhitched itself.  I fell…

Onto the back of a Crow flying beneath me.  I merged with it effortlessly and realized with a shock, two things at once.  1) This was the Spirit of my Drum and 2) This was the Crow I had found on my porch one week prior.  Through it’s eyes I saw the world in blue-white, luminescent fractals.  I could see everything, including the clusters of lines that made up doorways to other realms.  Here was a way into the Underworld.  There was a way into the Past.  They almost looked like clusters of nerves, or nests of ley lines.  But it was immediately clear to me why crows and ravens are considered to be excellent travellers between the Worlds.

His voice was both male and female, like two voices overlayed.  I asked his name and he said we would find it together as his old name no longer applied to him.  He let me know that he didn’t just happen to die on my porch, he chose to sacrifice himself so that he could live on in my drum and help me navigate the Worlds.  He told me that he was particularly concerned with Psychopomp work and the Underworld.  The Darker aspects of the Spirit Realm and Self.  I saw myself drumming beneath my Oak tree, clad in black, Crow on my shoulder as a vicious wind kicked up.  I was singing.  He (the Drum) was singing.  Together our voices cut through the Veil.

After the Journey we performed an Awakening ceremony for the drums, to welcome them into the community.  This group was all female and filled with bawdy laughter, it was a good feeling of community.  When I presented my drum to the Circle, after initiating it with the Elements, I couldn’t wait to hear his voice!  When I finally got the go ahead to let his Voice be heard, I beat out a simple 7 beat, 3 times.  I couldn’t believe how deep and rich his voice was.  The resonance almost knocked me down!  It was the perfect voice, the beats felt like the heartbeat of the drum.

When I touch the Drum I can feel him.  I can feel the connection we have and I can feel that it gets stronger each time we sing together.  It’s going to take some practice to not immediately trance out every time I start drumming, the resonance is SO strong.  I need to learn to hold space.  But I adore this drum.  I adore this Spirit.  And I am completely tickled that Crow not only lives and sings in our Drum but that I will also have fetishes.  I will tie some of his tail feathers to the drum, and he showed me how he wants his skull painted when I unearth it in 3 months (just in time for Samhain!).  I am so very happy and contented right now.  And there is much Work to be done!

Fancy Meeting You Here! – Fae Journey

Last Friday was my Women’s Shamanic Circle’s Midsummer celebration.  Our focus was exclusively on The Fae, since most people, even the least sensitive can feel that this is their time of year.  I had been looking forward to this Circle for a number of months, as this group only does a Fae centric Circle once a year.

It had actually been awhile since I had gone to Circle, life having ganged up on me and inundated me with events and plans that kept me from it.  I was still Journeying on my own though, so it’s not like I let the ball drop or anything.  (And with my penchant for humorous Shameful Confessions ™ you know I would fess up to it if I did.)  But, like all of the best women in my life, once I walked into Circle it was like no time had passed.  I love these women.

We did our check-in and it was clear that a lot of the women there were going through some major things in their lives.  Where I was reaping all sorts of benefits and wondrous things from the Venus transit (which happened in my sign) others seemed to be finding themselves on the ‘testing grounds’ so to speak.  I had tears streaming down my face as the check-in concluded.  Deaths, miscarriages, mental breakdowns, I just wanted to hug all of them.

Then we discussed The Fae and told personal stories.  I told them about the Doorway Oak in my backyard and I got the distinct impression that one day, I should invite them to meet my Tree.  The energy, despite the heavy shit a lot of the women were going through, was light and jovial.  One of the more faery-touched of our number doused us all with glitter amidst gales of laughter.

When it came time for us to Journey, the leader, who I will just refer to as ‘T’ from now on, explained that we were going to be lead through a more structured Journey in order to meet our Faery Co-Walker.  This wasn’t mandatory, of course, and she made sure to impress upon us that if we felt pulled to another area of work, either by our own instincts or by our Guides, that we should go in that direction instead.  She went on to explain how Faery Seership was a time-honored tradition and that meeting and forming a relationship with your Fae counterpart was integral.  She explained that the Shamanic being was often seen as a three-fold joint endeavor consisting of You, your animal totem and your Fae ‘Cousin’ as she charmingly referred.  She also explained that the guided path that she would be taking us on was called the Two Trees and had been in use for centuries and beyond.

I was beyond excited and as with all of the times that I am super excited I start to doubt.  What if I can’t concentrate?  What if none of the Fae want me as a Co-Walker?  What if I meet my Fae Cousin and we hate each other?!  And that sort of rubbish.  The rational mind can be such a dickhead sometimes.

T got us all settled in the darkness and began drumming.  Her drum sounded particularly sonorous and rich, I’m not sure if she had cared for it recently or if it’s all the heavy-duty Energy Work I’ve been doing recently.  (More on that later.)  She lead us through the guided part of the Journey.  It was beyond lovely.  She left us at a 4 point crossroad to embark on our own Journeys from there.

The crossroad was at the top of a hill, the roads corresponding perfectly to the cardinal directions.  When I looked in each of the directions I could clearly see the associated elements.  East was a lovely, wind-swept scene.  A high, rocky moor with birds circling overhead, just below grey storm-clouds threatening to spill rain.  South was a stone path lined with torches that stretched off into a night-scape shadowing a deep, dark forest.  West was morning light infusing a beautiful beach.  I could smell the beyond-blue ocean.  North was a snow blanketed cave, nestled into night-cloaked mountains.  T had said that the correct path would glow to let us know which way.  Like always, when I first drop into trance, my thinking brain still tries to drive for a few moments.  Go that way!  It makes the most sense!  But ‘that way’ wasn’t glowing, so I batted the thoughts down and quieted myself deeper into the trance.  When I saw that the South path, the Path of Fire, was glowing my rational brain let out a last gasp of That would be the absolute last element I would have picked! before shutting the fuck up completely.

I started down the Path, watching the scene go abruptly from daytime on a hill to nighttime in a forest.  The torches lined the path as I ventured deeper, which was a good thing as the forest was treacherous.  This was no fairytale forest homogenized by Disney.  This was a wild, sharp place.  Untamed.  Fierce.  Ready to devour the unwary.  Thorns lurked to the side of the path, threatening to catch me and hold fast if I strayed.  The trees were black, gnarled and leafless leading to a confused moment where I wondered if it was Winter there.  It seemed far too warm to be Winter.  Then I realized, these trees weren’t dormant, they were burnt.  Charred black from some violent fire that had rent through the forest.  Their bony hands stretched to the midnight sky in silent defiance.  I pressed on with a shudder.

I began calling out.  I’m looking for someone here.  I think you’ve probably been looking for me too.  Is anyone here?  Quite suddenly two identical twins appeared on the path before me.  Their faces were sullen beneath dark hair as they stared at me.  I approached them, saying Are you whom I seek?  They side-stepped me after a moment of staring and walked past me on the path heading out of the forest.  I watched them disappear before continuing deeper.  I saw a number of the strangest creatures that I can’t quite remember.  A herd of antelopes with lion features.  A huge lizard that glowed a radioactive pulsing blue.  A satyr bounded across the Path in front of me at one point, startling a nest of birds into taking flight.  I kept calling, growing sad that I might not find my Co-Walker…

Then a light began to grow, deep within the blackened forest.  It was red fire-light, I could tell by the way it moved.  I pressed towards it with no fear, despite the warning signs of what fire does to the material world all around me.  I saw that the thorn wreathed path lead to a clearing up ahead.  A clearing with a number of bonfires burning.  And I saw the silhouette of a dark figure.  I broke into a run, knowing immediately that was who I sought.  It wasn’t by sight though, it was some nameless recognition that had nothing to do with the senses.  Like we weren’t meeting each other for the first time, just picking up where we had left off.  She was running towards me in the same instant.

We slammed into each other with an embrace that knocked the breath out of me.  Her hardened leather armor compressed me in uncomfortable ways but the hug was filled with such joy and relief we were reluctant to let it go.  Finally we stepped back, holding each other at arms length to get a good look at each other.

I don’t know what exactly I was expecting.  But it wasn’t her.  For some reason, not only had I expected anything but a Fire association but I was also expecting someone Male.  Just goes to show you…

She was maybe an inch or so taller than me, with short, choppy looking blazing red hair.  It flared around her pale face like a halo of fire, unkept and unwashed.  Her eyes were mesmerizing.  As if there was any doubt left in me that I was dealing with the Fae, her eyes were completely inhuman.  A furious, neon-green light glowed deep within them, reveling no whites or pupils, just uniform color.  When she moved her eyes left blazing green tracers in her wake.  Her body was thin but well-muscled beneath (alarmingly) blood spattered armor.  On her right arm she held a small buckler.  In her left hand she held a wicked-looking spear.  I could feel heat rolling off of her, like she had just been exerting herself vigorously.  She looked about 10 years younger than me but she’s Fae so who really knows?

After we drank each other in I started to ask, what is now, my usual battery of questions whenever I first meet someone in Trance.  What’s your name?  Is there anything I can do or get for you?  What can we do for each other?  Before I could even begin she cut me off in a voice that was sharp and rough, ‘Skavia‘.  I made sure I had it right by repeating it to her and then spelling it.  She nodded.  Her blazing green eyes were unnerving.

I asked, “Is there anything I can do for you?”  (I know my faery manners.)

She grinned a disturbingly feral smile, ‘Bring me your fears that I may consume them.’

I kind of blinked at her and then, ‘Are you sure your name isn’t Kali?’

Oh how she laughed.  A deep throaty belly-laugh that seemed to come from deep within the earth itself.  Then she clapped me hard on the back and lead me into the clearing.  I realized quite suddenly that it wasn’t just a clearing in a forest.  We were at the foot of a volcano.  I could see the red glow from the top of the mountain, not active in a run-for-your-lives way but definitely not asleep.

‘It’s good you pressed on, Sister.  I wouldn’t have come to you if you had submitted to fear.’

I told her that whatever violent cataclysm had destroyed that place had happened well before I got there.  She asked if I was fool enough to think that made it safe to be this close to ‘The Thunderer’ as she called the volcano.  I told her I was certainly fool enough for many things but not for that.  She laughed long and hard.

We seated ourselves before one of the bonfires, backs to the forest with the volcano before us.  She spread out a hide with what looked to be blueprints on it.  She wanted me to construct a spear in what she called ‘your world’.  It was to have an obsidian blade for the spearhead.  The instructions were extremely specific (measurements and all!) and she went over and over them with me to make sure I didn’t forget.  Then she listed off, rapid-fire, a bunch of stones that she can resonate with in my ‘world’.  Obsidian.  Peridot.  Tektite.  (I noticed that all of these stones either have volcano associations or meteoric associations.)  Also Copper.  She was very specific and made sure that I got what she said by repeating.  (Which is a good thing because on Journeys it’s easy to forget information on the way back.)  I asked her if there were any plants that she liked.  She shrugged slightly and said, ‘I am fire and earth.  I do not grow.‘

All too soon the call-back beat came.  We hugged and she made me promise to come back to her later that night, before I went to sleep.

Now that I’m a few days out from meeting Skavia I’ve noticed a few things.

1) Generally when I meet a new Guide the first meeting is rather formal in a ‘we don’t really know each other yet’ way.  It’s still warm but there’s usually a bit of formality the first time.  Not with her.  Like I said, it was like our relationship had been paused.  I’m thinking we’ve know each other before.

2) There’s an extremely strong sense of sisterhood.  I feel like we share some sort of fundamental something or other that makes us like Sisters.

3) Serpent was there the whole time although she remained quiet during the meeting.  So this certainly followed what T said about it being a three-fold connection.

4) My connection to Skavia is extremely strong, in that she has already popped in a few times during daily life.  I know she’s near because I can feel the heat.

5) She has explained to me that the Spear I am to construct is a ritual tool.  She says it connects directly to her own spear and once I have made it and consecrated it properly it will allow us to ‘pool our talents’.  I’m unsure what exactly that means at this current time.

6) Even though it’s quite obvious she is a warrior she also has very very strong seer abilities.  This threw me at first, since I tend to associate seership with priestesses, not warriors.  She insists that I am the priestess in this relationship though.

7) I asked her if she also had a relationship with my Fetch.  ‘No.‘  She was adamant, even though they seemed perfectly polite around one another.  ‘He is yours and you are his.’

Going With The Flow

A lot of times I find myself fighting against the tide of my surroundings, be it environmental factors or people in my life.  I don’t mean fighting in a violent way, of course.  More like attempting to either stand my ground in the face of a rushing current or trying to go in the other direction completely.  It’s exhausting and every inch of ground gained is hard-won.

Learning to recognize the times in which the current of my life is actually going in a direction that is beneficial has been very hard.  I don’t know if it’s just that my brain has been conditioned to fight the tide always or if it’s a defect of perception.  But I find myself wondering at how many opportunities I’ve missed in the past simply because I failed to really look at things in the moment.  I’m not longing for the past, mind, just sort of wondering about it.

Meditation is invaluable for perspective.  It puts me right in the present moment, but at the same time kind of outside of it in that there is nothing that immediately needs my attention.  But sometimes even meditation can’t break through my patterns.

I think there must’ve been a point, somewhere in the past year or so, where I decided, on a subconscious level, to stop fighting.  Maybe it was my mother’s death.  I know it broke a lot of things in me, maybe it broke that too.  Or maybe I realized vaguely, deep down inside, that this wasn’t working anymore.  Maybe it never worked.

Being able to let go and float with the current is terrifying on a level that I can’t quite express.  Yet now that I’ve actually done it the feeling it has infused within my life is incomparably wonderful.  So I guess it comes back to what I consider to be the best bit of writing advice (or any advice rather) I’ve ever received:

Jump.  Then build your wings.

You can’t micromanage these sorts of things, you’ll just fuck it up.  Sometimes you have to just trust.  You don’t even have to know or understand what you’re trusting.  You just have to put yourself into that state.

I know this post is a bit abstract but honestly if I sat down to list all of the wondrous events and blessings I have received I’d be here all day.  I do have one specific I want to mention though.

My Shaman Drum

A number of serendiptious events started popping up over the past few months, pointing me towards making my own drum for trance work.  At first I balked, because shamanic drums, whether you buy them ready-made or build them yourself, are expensive.  So I placed it on the back burner of ‘This would be cool at some point.’

Then I received some information via an Oracle I had consulted that was pretty unmistakeably pointing me towards a drum.  I was stunned but growing annoyed, because again, expensive!  Nonetheless I moved it to the (still) back burner of ‘No seriously, this will be important at some point.’

(Note – Ready-made shamanic drums run about 150$ and up.  The actual drum-kits for making your own are cheaper but seeing as how I’ve never made one before I would have to attend a workshop or class.  The workshops I had seen started around the 200$ mark.)

I kind of forgot about it, because again, back burner.  And then my Birthday hit on the 17th, which prompted my only remaining extended family member to send me 100$.  (Best.  Aunt.  Ever.)  I was excited when I got that in the mail and coincidentally (let’s all laugh now as you will soon see it was no coincidence) was on my way to Kachina’s house to have tea.  So here’s how it went, I left the house, grabbed the mail out of the mailbox on the way to the car, opened mail as I got in the car, saw the check and cheered and then drove over to Kachina’s.

I wasn’t in Kachina’s house but for maybe 5 minutes before she excitedly tells me that one of the awesome women in our Shaman Circle is helping to facilitate an all-female Drum making workshop.  I thought to myself, “Ohh, that would be cool to go to.  Maybe when I have the money…”  Kachina quickly added that it would only cost the price of the kit.  I stopped whinging in my head and asked her to repeat herself.  Yep, I had heard right.  Just the cost of the kit.

I sat there and zoned out for a moment, putting all the little pieces together in my head.  Signs pointing to a drum.  Me agreeing it was good idea but knowing it was too much money at the moment.  Money comes out of nowhere not 15 minutes before I am told that there was a drum workshop happening for the price of the kit.  (kits run from 30$ and up)

Even I couldn’t beat that into a coincidence shaped hole.

Here I am a week later.  I’ve grabbed my spot for the class.  I am paying the money for the kit to the instructor this Friday.  I already put in my order with her for a 16 sided, 15 inch Elk-hide kit with a 3 inch depth.  The workshop runs from July 20th through the 22nd.

Friday will be the meet and greet (although I think I already know a lot of these ladies from Circle), soaking the hides, creating sacred space and giving thanks to the trees and animals for their sacrifice.

Saturday will be the construction day.  We will assemble our drums and beaters.

Sunday we will hold sacred space and Journey to meet the spirit of our drums.  We will also be holding an Awakening ceremony to welcome our drums into the world.  And then we jam.

I am ecstatic.

Life is good.

More to Come

It’s been a ridiculously busy month for me.  Filled with road trips, adventures, parties, new people and house guests.

A few weeks ago I took a road trip with my Shaman Circle to Enchanted Rock.  The weather was beyond perfect, a balance, rarely seen in Texas, of warmth and refreshing cool breeze.  And the sky was a shocking cobalt blue with not a cloud to be seen.  I spent the trip in the same awesome space that I spent at Burning Man in 2005, just kind of moving effortlessly between various clusters of people, both known and unknown, with small stretches of sacred solitude in between.  I did a Medicine Walk Light ™, allowing nature to send me any messages that needed to get through.  Only one animal messenger appeared to me but it was a constant presence.  Mockingbirds followed me wherever I went in the park.  Everywhere I looked, there was a mockingbird looking back at me.

Mockingbirds mean curiosity, fearlessness and protectiveness with a heavy emphasis on vocal communication.  So there’s that urging once more that I need to focus on my voice.  I’m still mostly confounded as to what exactly that means but I have a few ideas for experimentation that I will post here when I get them underway.

I’ve had some odd nocturnal disturbances over the past month.  Just disturbed sleep and being awoken in the night.  It was the distinct alerting from my home wards, which is how I know this isn’t my usual ‘I’m bad at sleeping’ thing.  Something/one was poking about.  They didn’t seem to be making a focused effort, just similar to a child tossing rocks at an electric fence.  Brother Jaguar always ran whatever it was off before I had a chance to fully rouse and act, so I wasn’t too worried.  And the activity seems to have stopped now.

But another sort of activity entirely picked up last night.  It was Lunar Beltane and a Supermoon to boot so I will give it its own post.

 

‘Just Not To Me’ – My Own Worst Enemy

If you’ve been following me for any period of time you know how I am my harshest critic.  I’m barb-tongued, blunt and vitriolic on the best of days but the worst stuff always gets directed inward.  I think this is a human thing, as I know it’s a very common phenomena.  Hell there are a whole slew of comedians out there whose entire schtick is self-deprecation.  We understand it.  We engage in it and some of us even revel in it.  No matter how cruel or unforgiving we can be to others we are always twice as bad towards ourselves.  Some of us (like me) even take it a step further, we have an immense capacity for forgiveness but never for ourselves.

I think one of my worst and most insidious offenses against myself is the ‘Just not to me.’ addendum.

“Sure there are people out there who have winning streaks, happens all the time… just not to me.”

“Everyday, people are making huge leaps in spiritual growth and awakening, it’s becoming more and more common …just not for me.”

Etc.

It’s such a small, tacked on phrase, I don’t even realize it when I say it most of the time.  But it’s like a small drip of poison that let’s you know there’s a deeper well of it inside.

Last night I went to my Shaman Circle.  It was specifically a Healing Circle which I had never attended before and when I signed up for it I had done so with the intention that I would work on some long-distance healing for my sister (who is in terrible health).  I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that I am no Healer.  But the road I’ve walked in the last 6 months has all lead here.  So here I am, giving it a go.

This week has been a horrible one, emotionally, for reasons I won’t bore you with.  So by the time last night hit all I wanted to do was take my shoes off, open a bottle of wine and watch Sherlock until my eyeballs fell out.  But I pep-talked myself into going, despite the physical exhaustion, despite the emotional wreck I was in.

I immediately felt my spirits lift once I hopped in the car with Kachina and another, new friend that I’ve made at Circle.  The easy chatter and laughter is always a balm but I still felt… off.  Once on site, we merged with another group of friends who were having dinner before Circle and the laughter and chatter was turned up to eleven.  I finally felt the tension slip away.  These women bolster me in ways I would never have thought possible.  They are easy to talk to, accepting and even joyous of my company no matter my state, easy to laugh and hilarious in an of themselves.  I love them and I could not possibly consider myself luckier.

The energy at Circle was astounding.  I can’t even put into words the whorl of immense energy that descended upon us once we got down to business.  I know I’ve often talked about how powerful this group is, but this was so far above and beyond that I almost blurted out ‘Which one of you is doing that?!’

When it came time to do the healing work (via Journey) I was still thinking I was going to aim it at my sister.  The group leader had talked to us about ethics when it comes to this kind of work.  So I knew I was going to extend the invite to my sister and ask her if she wanted me to heal her.

Once in trance I found myself standing at the edge of an underground pool that I had seen once before.  (Back in January, during one of my Coven’s full moon celebrations we had done a small journey to connect with our Fetches, this is the place my Fetch had taken me)  I was in a cavern, deep within a mountainside, standing hand in hand with my Fetch.  I felt the warmth of his hand as he squeezed mine, letting me know he was there.  I put out the Call to my other Guides, asking any and all to be present for the work at hand.  I was stunned to see Jaguar show up.  (Brother Jaguar shows up only rarely.  Usually when I’m having a particularly profound, earth-shattering trance.)  So I kinda of boggled for a minute before asking ‘What the fuck’s going on?’

It immediately became clear that my sister was not the focus of the healing.  I was.

A look passed between my Fetch and Jaguar and my Fetch began gently removing my clothes.  I went with it, still absorbing what was going on and being unsure what to think of it.  I let myself look around the cavern and noticed that the small flame spouts were still firing upon the surface of the water, just like before.  When I had first seen this place my Fetch had told me ‘This is a place of Healing.  It is open to all.’  And I remember being kind of ‘what the hell?’ about it because I hadn’t contacted him about healing nor had it been on my mind.  But last night I knew I was going into a healing session, I just didn’t know it was going to be for me.

Once I was naked I was lead into the warm, clear water’s of the natural pool.  The small flames that burned upon the surface didn’t burn my skin or harm me in any way, they just radiated a divine warmth that spread like ripples through my entire body.  After I had completely submerged in the pool, I was indicated to sit on the side and face Jaguar.

Brother Jaguar was looking intensely beautiful, as always, but his focus wasn’t on my face as I stared at him… he was staring at my left foot.  Suddenly it hit me like a bolt.  What I was there for, why I was being singled out instead of my sister.

Some Background: About three and half years ago I suffered an injury, seemingly out of the blue.  Plantar Fasciitis in my left foot.  I had never had any kind of debilitating injury or illness before in my life, so rearranging everything around daily, constant, excruciating pain was new to me.  All of the things I love to do, running, climbing, dancing, etc, I just couldn’t do anymore.  I tried everything to waylay the pain, medicines, pills, tiger balm, braces, wrapping, patches and soaks.  Nothing really helped.  And I can’t tell you how many times I silently despaired that I would never be whole again.  That I would be a highly-functioning cripple for the rest of my life, living with this constant pain.

I followed Jaguar’s gaze as my Fetch said ‘This is a spiritual wound.  Not a physical one.’  I almost recoiled when I saw it.  A huge, rusted black, barbed hook was completely through my foot.  It oozed black and venomous, the hook completely and thoroughly through the side of my foot (just above the heel) and emerged barbed and sickly out of the instep.  It went directly through the bone, the barbs biting into the marrow and looked to have been there for awhile.

I looked up at my Fetch in an absolute fucking panic.  “Well pull it out!” I said.  He gave me a funny look and said “Not me, dummy.  You.  You put it there, you have to take it out.”  And then I realized that this wasn’t just a hook, this was an anchor.  This was something that I put on myself in preparation for my mother’s long, slow decline.  I gave up everything for her.  My dream job.  My independence.  My boyfriend.  Everything.  I gave up everything, with all the best intentions, and anchored myself to my fate like Andromeda upon the rocks.  It had held me fast and festered.  My mother declined and passed, and the hook stayed, nestled deep into the bone, holding me fast.  My mother’s been gone almost a year and a half now, and still the hook held fast, growing poisonous and crippling.

I started to cry as I grasped the massive black hook and began to pull.  It hurt so bad and it took all of my strength and will to work it out, inch by inch.  Jaguar stayed close, a breath away from me, staring intently at the work I was doing.  My Fetch turned into the most amazing cheerleader, his deep, soft voice urging me on, encouraging me, telling me exactly what I needed to hear.  Finally it came free, bringing with it a flood of black, viscous blood.  I flailed about helplessly for a second before my Fetch grabbed my leg and placed the foot into the pool.  We three watched as the black poison seeped into the healing waters in a long stream, coiling down before being neutralized.  Finally I began to bleed clear, my own blood, an alarming but healthy shade of red coursing from the wound.

I looked up at Jaguar and saw something in his eyes that made me smile.  The next thing I know I was doing something I haven’t done or even been able to think about doing in almost 4 years.  I was running.  Full-tilt in a dark forest, the moon overhead as my Fetch chased me, laughing.  We played tag and hide and seek.  Running, tumbling, wrestling.  No sign of pain of injury.  The feeling, to run again, without pain was enough to make me tear up again within the trance.  It’s been so long.  I thought I’d never do it again.

When I came out of trance I was dumbfounded to discover that the pain in my foot was gone.  For the first time, in 3 and a half years, I felt zero pain.  I couldn’t believe it.  Miracles are for other people.  But not for me.

And yet here I sit this morning.  At my desk, just like any other day.  No pain.  I got out of bed this morning, like any other day, only today I didn’t limp.  I believe that people can experience healing so profound that it completely alters their physical presence.  It happens all the time.

Just not to me.

🙂

Spring Equinox 2012: Of Storms, Ostara and Doorways to Faerie

Spring has definitely sprung in Texas.  It was demolition derby out there the night before last when a massive line of storms coursed over the area.  A tree that grew along the creek that runs behind my fence-line was struck by lightning, fell over and crushed my neighbor’s fence.  Kachina’s house was actually struck by lightning!  This isn’t exactly the kind of excitement I look for when Spring comes around!

The good news is, the plants and yard love the rainy season.  And Kachina is crafting new wands for our coven from the lightning wood.  Exciting!

Last Friday was my Shaman’s Circle celebration of Ostara.  It was a full house and the mood was palpably joyous and hopeful.  Lots of laughter and warmth.  It continues to amaze me how effortlessly powerful this group of women is.  When the leader starts a call for power it’s like someone has just fired up a Tesla Coil in the room.  It’s immediate and intense.

As always, the after Circle meetup at the local cafe is just as much of a joy to me as the Circle itself.  Seven of us squeezed into one booth and cackled our way through midnight.  One of the lovely ladies I’ve befriended has agreed to trade me some Mandrake seeds for some of my White Sage seeds!  I have no idea if I’m skilled enough to grow mandrake from seed but I will do my damnedest!

The Spring Cleaning urge has hit me big time.  I’ve already cleaned up the front and back yards so now all that’s left is a boundary smudge (with burning Sage and Cedar) and reinforcement of my wards (which will be done in the dead of night so my neighbor’s don’t think I’ve completely lost it).  I am also going to sprinkle lines of dried Vervain in front of my doorways.  (Remind me to devote a whole post to Vervain and my unashamed love affair with it.)

Also, a symptom of Spring’s return is my mind wandering into strange lands.  I have an enormous double Oak that grows just beyond my back door, it arches over my entire backyard and the back edge of the house, spreading it’s amazingly strong arms over me and my property.  I’ve grown up with that tree.  I’ve climbed it and swung beneath it.  I’ve hunted for Easter eggs around it.  I’ve seen it’s Guardian twice in my life.  Once when I was a child it appeared to me as I played in the shade of the tree (it scared the shit out of me).  And once when I was in my early twenties (during a time of amazing spiritual growth) I saw it standing beneath the tree as I looked out the window one morning.  We gazed at each other long and hard, sizing each other up and then I smiled, and it smiled.  It doesn’t allow itself to be seen very often, but I can personally vouch for feeling it constantly.  I feel it moving about in the yard, always near the tree itself, day or night.  It follows me during my sunrise walks in the warm months, as I make my rounds around the garden, watering, weeding and caring for my yard.

This Guardian is what tipped me off about what was always so strange about that tree.  After the second time I saw it (and I mean I saw it with my actual eyes, not just my third eye) I realized that that tree was a doorway.  During the warm months it is a doorway for the Fae, they come and go with dizzying amounts of activity.  A lot of them just continue on to wherever they have mind to go.  But some make homes in my garden during the growing season.  I see these Fae a lot more often than I see the Guardian.  And I consider myself beyond lucky that I have such a close and private connection to the world of the Fae.

Of course, there are some unintended side effects associated with having an enormous doorway in my backyard.  If I don’t set my boundaries properly I will end up with all manner of items disappearing and being moved about, unexpected guests at my magickal workings and just general weirdness happening inside my house.  The usual way I set it up is, ‘You can have the run of the yard but remember that it is shared space.  But my home is my home and you must ask if you want to enter as I would do if I want to enter your home.’  It works out well.  And the shared space of my yard and garden becomes a space apart from the rest of the world.  You can feel it when you walk onto my property, it lures you back further, towards the back, towards the tree.  Even people who aren’t magickally inclined feel and succumb to the pull of it, I often find them standing slack-jawed staring up into the tree when they first visit (as happened when Kachina’s love came to visit me).

In the cold months, when the Holly King reigns the tree does something interesting.  The only way I have to describe it is it ‘reverses polarity’.  The energy changes and you can feel it.  The only Fae that continue to use it during the cold months are the darker Fae.  But mostly it becomes a doorway for the Dead during those months.  It starts around October and continues through February.  The feel of the tree and my space is noticeably different during those months, there is still a pull and a feeling of two worlds overlapping, but the energy is darker and a lower vibration.  Visitors during these months tend to get nervous and spooked more easily.  I get a lot of ‘Don’t you get scared?  Being here all alone?’  “Nope” is my simple answer.  The rest of the answer is that 1) I’m never alone here and 2) I have a symbiotic relationship with that tree, its Guardian and all that it encompasses.  We care for and take care of each other.  We watch over each other.  We help each other when we are able.  The Guardian and I understand and love each other, we will not allow harm to come to one another.  So I know that if ever some unsavory sort of Spirit or Fae takes undue interest in me, the Guardian will act.  I’ve felt it happen before and it’s an awesome show of force.

There’s a flipside to that protection though.  Some more sensitive people will get completely freaked out by the energy of the Guardian.  Because it’s protective of me and the land it can sometimes come across as intense and quietly aggressive.  It’s actually one of the things that has kept me from offering my place up as Ritual space for my Coven and Circle.  I’m unsure how others will react when they open themselves up for Work on my property.  Inside my house has worked fine, but I often wonder about what would happen if my coven gathered beneath it.  I certainly know what happens when I go it solo out there!  But I’m a bit of a special case when it comes to that tree.  It knows me, I know it and we understand each other.  Everyone else is an outsider.  So I think I may just have to do some Journey work to speak with the Guardian and ask how it would feel about others being invited into the space.

Which brings me to another thing about that tree.  The dreams!  Oh god, the dreams!  My bedroom is very very near the canopy and the dreams that I have in the warm months, when the polarity shifts!  I go places.  I see things.  I can’t even describe it.  I plan on doing a lot of Journey work with the tree this year.  If it’s a doorway, it goes both directions, yes?  They can come through so this year I will go through.  The Guardian has already given me permission to use the door.  I’d like to invite my coven to use the door but all I’ve gotten so far is a staunch ‘Only you.’  I suspect that will change if I start inviting them over to get used to the energy, to attune to it and for the Guardian to get to know them.  But first I need to do some Journey work.

Whew!  I have a lot of Work to do this Spring!

 

Brother Jaguar

I got some pretty amazing work done during the last Journey Circle.  Unlike the other Circles I’ve attended, this one was kind of a free fall, in that there was no focus or teaching happening, it was just a drum circle for us to do whatever we really needed to do.

During the oracle work Kachina and I did on the Full Moon she said something to me that made my jaw drop.  Well, in all actuality, it wasn’t her that said it but Argeaux (which I’ve now figured out is the correct spelling).  We were both channeling that night and going back and forth in a very organic (for us) way.  At one point, when I was asking questions (she was functioning as the mouthpiece at that moment) she looked up at me and said “You need your Jaguar.”.  I stared at her hard for a few long moments, too speechless to put into words what went through my mind.  Then I asked, “What?”  She blinked a few times and then said, “Your Jaguar.”

Kachina knows I don’t have a Jaguar totem.  I have never once spoken to her about jaguars.  The only animal totem I have is the Snake.  (My Fetch often takes the form of a Corvid but he’s not a totem, he’s something else entirely.)  What Kachina didn’t know was that I had seen a jaguar every time I sat down to meditate (which I do twice a day) or dreamt the week previous.  Over and over I kept seeing this jaguar.  I had been dismissing it because… well to be honest because it was a god damned cliche.

So I stammered a bit and then, “Why would you say that?”  In hindsight I’m pretty sure I got kinda intense with that question.  She just kind of looked at me like, ‘Whelp!’.  And then I told her I had seen a jaguar every time I had closed my eyes for a week.

I suppose you can see where this is going.  After I got over the shock of it and came to terms with the cliche (cliches are cliches for a reason, I need to remember that), I decided to work with the Jaguar.  Unlike the Serpent which approached me, I found myself having to go in search of the Jaguar.  I kept trying and trying to make solid contact and it kept giving me the slip.  It was very much like it was stalking me, and as soon as I would turn my attention to it fully, it would vanish into the wild.

So by the time Friday’s Journey Circle came around I was pretty frustrated.  I felt like I was being pencil-jammed and was pretty confused by the Jaguar in general.  Shortly before Kachina picked me up I had the idea.  And once I focused on the idea, I knew it was right.  I had to hunt this creature.

I can’t say why it was right.  It just felt right.  I knew I needed to turn the table, stop being stalked by it, stop being prey and hunt the Jaguar.  I had to prove to it that I was ready.  I had to prove that I could handle it.  I had to prove that I was the Jaguar’s equal.

The Circle was large and beautiful full of many lovely faces that are becoming more and more familiar to me.  I find myself smiling when I’m there, which isn’t normal for me.  I tend to be a very taciturn person.  But there, amongst all those lovely, powerful women, I smile.  A newcomer was seated next to me who was friendly and cool.  I chatted with her for a bit as we watched everyone find their spots.

I fell into trance extremely quickly that night.  I think having a clearly realized goal made it easier for me.  Not that it ever takes me long, mind you.  But it was noticeably quicker.  Laughably so in fact, as I’m pretty sure I was out by the tenth drumbeat.  Immediately I found myself on a path.  This is usual for me but this time something was different.  There were other people also walking the path.  We were all going the same direction, towards the lights of some small village in the distance.  The path we were walking was on a treacherous bit of mountainside.  The others were primitive looking, mostly naked, carrying spears, jugs, pelts and other things.

Once in the village I found myself knowing what to do.  I stripped down in silence and began painting myself with something from a clay pot nearby.  I don’t know if it was paint or mud, to be honest.  The other people were all asleep inside their huts while I prepared for my hunt.  Finally, the painting was done.  I grabbed my spear and headed away from the village, out into the jungle as dawn’s first light began to show.

I found I could move through the dense jungle easily and silently.  My bare feet knew where to step, I knew where to put my hands.  My muscles felt longer and leaner.  I used my sense of smell to begin tracking.  Not the scent of the jaguar, but the scent of prey.  Animals that the jaguar itself would be tracking.  I picked up a scent and started moving quicker.  Over and under the foliage, without so much as a whisper.  I was reveling in the feel of my body and the jungle around me, there was such a harmonious accord.  It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt in this life.  I knew where the soft soil would give way before I even set a foot down.  I took cues from the offerings of scent on the air and changed direction accordingly, like I was consulting a compass.  My eyes were sharp and the spear in my hand felt like an extension of my body.  I was just moving along like that for I don’t know how long before I realized with a start that I had shape-shifted into the form of a jaguar.  (This is the first time I’ve ever shape-shifted.)  The muscles in my legs were long and smoothe, powerful as I moved.  My thinking even shifted to that of an animal.  Gone were human thoughts, doubts, second-guesses.  Animals don’t second-guess themselves.  My entire being was focused on one thing: Find Prey.

I’m unsure how long I stalked through the jungle like that, but eventually I came to small pool of water.  From the riot of scents that greeted me I could tell that this was a favorite watering hole for the animals nearby.  I stopped to drink, lowering my muzzle to the water.  When I saw myself as a jaguar reflected back at me I started a bit.  It’s one thing feeling it but seeing it kind of punches you in the face.  I began to drink once more and watched as my face started to morph back to my human face.  Human thoughts began to creep back to me.  “I will never find this thing.”  “What the hell am I doing?”  “Maybe it isn’t one of my totems.”

And then I saw him!  Past my own human reflection in the water, in the depths, I saw the face of the huge jaguar that had been stalking me.  It looked out at me for a moment, long enough for me to recognize and for my eyes to grow huge, before it leapt.  I was knocked backwards to the ground as he burst from the surface of the water, spear flying from my grasp.  And then it was on, we began to circle each other, sizing each other up.  He was huge.  I remember that almost gave me pause.  But then I remembered why I was there, and I remembered all of events that had forged me, brought me to this.  I pulled my knife into my hand and lunged.

We fought for what seemed like forever.  It was like some elaborate dance.  Both of us were bleeding freely.  And somehow, I was holding my own against him.  There was no grace to it, and there was no training or skill.  It was just fighting as hard as we could, in the mud.  I’m unsure exactly how it got resolved, but the next thing I remember was us both laying in the trampled mud, breathing hard, and covered in blood.  My head rested against is body as I stared up at what little sky I could see through the thick canopy.  The jungle was silent, had been silent the whole time, watching us.  I turned my head and breathed deep against his neck, memorizing the scent.  There was an amazing amount of heat coming from him.  Like a furnace.

Again my memory skipped out and I’m not sure how but I found myself being lead by him to a cave behind a waterfall.  Inside a few torches were lit and I could see a crystal clear pool of water catching a waterfall that spilled into the cave via a hole in the top.  I heard him say ‘You need to wash now.’  I kind of dithered a second, looking down at myself and noticing how insane I looked.  Naked, bleeding, covered in mud and paint and soon to be dappled with bruises.  Then I stepped into the pool and washed.  (Interesting note, although the water washed away all the mud and paint it also seemed to wash away the injuries as well.)

I emerged and Jaguar was sitting patiently, watching me.  I noticed paintings on the walls of the cave, depicting what looked to be families.  I stepped past Jaguar and looked at them, noticing that there were generational counts below the depictions of the people.  The count went backwards along the wall, leading off the to right, where I saw a large black opening.  Jaguar stood and slowly began walking towards the dark cave.  I remembered being slightly annoyed, knowing that I had to follow but desperately wanting to really look at the cave paintings of the generations.  Reluctantly, I followed into the black.

Then things got strangely abstract, and I am thinking I must’ve picked up on the ‘across the circle’ shared vibe.  The girl across from me had an experience where she was floating inside a huge jellyfish in warm, dark ocean waters.  And she had this amazing sensation of communication between all of the others jellyfish around her.  I had the sensation of floating of weightless and without directional orientation, within deep, dark, warm water.  And I also had the sense of communication all around me.  It was very pleasant and amniotic.  I think I must’ve mind melded with her.  (I’ve spoken about this before, how sometimes during a shamanic journey people across the circle from one another will tap into each other and share part of their journey.  Although this is the first time I’ve experienced it.)

Then I remember leaving the pool and walking across a great plain with Jaguar.  He told me he would be sending a number of experiences my way shortly.  I asked how I would know they were from him.  He said that they would be the ones that made me the most uncomfortable.  The ones I would try to side-step or dismiss.  I just laughed and nodded my head.

In the distance I saw a huge bonfire.  Dark figures all dancing around it in a circle.  The flames seemed to reach all the way up into the sky which was positively choked with stars.  We walked towards them, watching the dancers.  They were all different colors and shapes.  Both genders were involved.  They were dancing wildly, to drums I couldn’t see.  As we drew closer I saw that each dancer had a Jaguar with them, that stalked alongside them, in the dark.  I realized all at once that I was seeing all others that Jaguar had called.  Those souls stalwart enough and tempered by the fires of life to withstand the teachings of Jaguar.  I felt a oneness with them.  Jaguar said ‘Dance’.  And I lept into the circle of dancers without a second thought, letting the drumbeats and the roar of the fire take me.

And unfortunately that’s when I heard the drumbeat callback of the Circle.  I hastily thanked Brother Jaguar and began speeding my way back to my physical body.  I had a really hard time transitioning back to full waking consciousness.  Usually it takes me about 10 to 15 minutes to really make sure I’m fully seated back in my body, longer if I experienced something traumatic.  But this, although it wasn’t traumatic in the least, took forever.  Even an hour later I was still seeing tracers, like I was looking at both the Physical world and the Spirit world at the same time.  It was odd.

After we shared and closed the Circle I got to speak with the Circle’s Leader for a bit.  She’s an amazing woman who was hugely helpful to me during that difficult past life regression in January.  She’s going to be setting up a small meeting with those of us who are strongly and unmistakeably called to be Psychopomps.  After we discussed that for a bit she began talking about a journey she had that seemed to take place in Mayan cosmology.  (Keep in mind, I hadn’t said a word to anyone about what I had just experienced.)  She was talking about the jungles and a cave behind a waterfall and this crazy initiation she went through, with a pool for cleansing and cave paintings.  I almost had to sit down, I know my mouth was hanging open and I must’ve looked like I had seen a ghost.  I had had almost the exact same Journey.  (Side note – this woman also has a huge Panther totem.  Panthers are Jaguars, they are simply a mutation.)  It’s a very strange sensation when you get confirmation so immediately.  It’s like the Universe is thumping you on the ear.

I have seen and spoken with Brother Jaguar a few times since that journey.  He’s a much different totem than Snake.  Snake is hilariously sarcastic when she speaks with me.  Jaguar is soft-spoken and prone to long silences.  He makes me think of deep water.  Also Brother Jaguar will not come whenever I call.  He shows up when he wants to show up.  Snake is sometimes reluctant but if I persist she will usually show up.  Come to think of it the only one that shows up without fail when I call is my Fetch.  Serpent and Jaguar seem to be ‘Bitch, I’m busy.  Come back later.’  Which, being rather independent myself, I can dig it.

So for those of you keeping score at home, I have two actual totems.  Snake and Jaguar.  I’ve seen plenty of other animals (deer, rabbit) but just because someone shows up doesn’t mean they are my totems.  A personal totem just feels different.  There’s a connection there that begs to be made stronger.  And although my totems are on the intense side of things, I’m happy with them.  I’m also happy there are only two of them.  I have to build relationships with them in order to really learn what they have to teach me.  I’d rather have two really good, really connected teachers than have a yard full of critters all trying to chatter at once.  It’s kind of like the difference between having a bunch of not-so-close friends and having a couple of friends who really get you and would help you hide a body if it came down to it.  Quality over quantity.

Booked and Loving It.

So here’s what my month looks like from this spot right here.

Tonight I have the Full Moon with Kachina.  Our agenda is pretty open although we are going to do some oracular work with our Coven’s Guide, Argo.  Moonbathing will happen if it’s not too cold.  A fire will be built if it’s cold enough.  Also moonwater is being made.

Friday the 10th I have a Shaman Circle Journey.

Sunday the 12th I have a Waning Moon Workshop.

Friday the 17th I have a At Home In The Universe Shaman Circle Journey.

Saturday the 18th I have to plant tubers and all root oriented plants in the garden as well as get the last of my Bindrunes inscriptions going in the space.

Sunday the 19th I have a Dark Moon Workshop.

Monday the 20th I have a whopper Protection/Defense/Blessing Working to do at my Sister’s space downtown.  Hex-breakers on deck!

Sunday the 26th I have a Waxing Moon Workshop.

Monday the 27th I have to plant tons of seeds in my Faery Garden and try not to get a sunburn.

Wednesday the 29th will be a Leap Year Spell for Opportunity.  (I’m unsure whether this will be solo or coven.)

Wow it’s overwhelming, seeing it all laid out like that!  I never thought, back on Samhain, that my resolve to be more community oriented would take off like a cannonball out of a cannon like this.  Love it.

Well that was… disturbing.

First let me say that last night I went to the Esbat Drumming Circle where I Journeyed with a handful of lovely women in search of specific answers to some specific questions we asked.  I had already done the major Journey (see my posts from earlier this week, Seeing in the Dark Parts 1 & 2) solo so I decided to tighten my question up a bit last night.  I asked to be shown what skills or talents or wells of knowledge I needed to start focusing on in order to the do the Work.

The Journey was a lot more abstract than I am used to.  I was taken through many small tableaus of watching myself do very specific things.  It was pretty damned cool, to be honest but I certainly got some shocks along the way.  Also, I was thoroughly shamed regarding one thing in particular.  The unfortunate thing about being shown so many small things at once is I KNOW I forgot some of them during the Call Back.  (The Call Back is the distinct change in rhythm during a drumming that tells the Shamans to start their return to the Physical.)  And some of the things I do remember are pretty confusing in and of themself, but whatever, you work with what you get, right?

1.  Digging.  One of the things I was shown was myself digging in dark earth (almost black) under a full moon.  I was in a small clearing in the woods and I was alone.  I was digging with my bare hands, deeper and deeper.  Occasionally I would pull out a rock or a bone, examine it for a moment, before placing it aside and digging further.  I am unsure whether this whole ‘digging’ thing is to be a literal act or if it’s a metaphor.

2.  I saw myself laughing freely and long with a group of people that I didn’t recognize.  It was very much like those long, lovely nights where you get together with good friends, eat well, laugh long and share stories deep into the night.  Surrounded by music and the smell of incense and food.  I got a distinctly South American vibe from these friends of mine, as well as from the decor of the apartment we were in.  Bruja and brujo was the immediate thing that I thought of.  My Serpent Guide said “Community will bring you joy just as easily as it will bring you expansion.”  I got the distinct impression that my ‘community’ should be wide and varied.

3. My Serpent Guide said, “Trust your Voice.  Not your writing.  Your Voice.  The Voice.  The one you’re afraid of.  The one you’ve only ever heard on accident.  Use it.  Practice.  Hone it.  Your Voice has a resonance that can cut between the Worlds.”  (This is one that shamed me good.  I’m unsure if I’ve ever mentioned it here but I have a weird hang up about using my Voice.  I don’t mean my talking voice cause fuck knows I babble a lot, I mean my Voice.  The Voice.  What is known as the magickal Voice.  Every time I’ve intentionally tried to use it in the past I get embarrassed and end up fucking it all up.)

4.  I was surrounded by a heavy mist as I walked on uneven ground.  It was very dark and the mist was cloying, clinging to my skin as I moved through it.  I looked down and was astonished to see that my skin was glowing like a firefly.  Just this brilliant incandescent glow that lit up the mists around me.  I saw faces in the mists, hopeful, following me through the dark.  My mind didn’t know but my feet knew the way.  The others followed my light as I lead them uphill.  (The uphill part will be important in a minute)

5. Once the mists cleared (this will also be important in a minute) I was in a great hall surrounded by people.  Their faces showed what looked to be recognition and a certain knowing look, like they had been expecting me.  I didn’t recognize any of them, so this was rather like being at a party where everyone had Googled you and you know no one.  I moved through the people, through the hall, bypassing the food and drink.  Just as I was about to ask my Guide what the hell we were doing there I was stopped short about 15 feet from a great seat covered in animal skins and NO SHIT ODIN.

I stood there like a complete boob for awhile, I was just so damned shocked to bumble into fucking Valhalla on a group journey.  Plus he looked fucking pissed and I immediately began cycling through in my head what I could have possibly done to piss him off.  I was terrified, which isn’t my usual reaction to him.  Then again I’ve never run into him on a Journey before and it’s quite a different animal altogether.  So after standing there like Cletus the slack-jawed yokel for what seemed like forever I just dropped to my knees and said, loud and clear, “Hail Odin!”.

The silence that fell over the hall was absolute.  You could have heard a pin drop.  My terror doubled as I stared at the rushes on the floor.  I could feel every single eye on me but the one I was really aware of was his.  I could feel it blazing at me from where he sat.  After what seemed like forever the silence and stillness proved too much for me and I tentatively glanced up a bit.  I saw his hand motion me up.

I stood up and suddenly he was towering over me.  His icey blue eye burning into mine as he demanded, “Is this what  you want?”  As he spoke he gestured with one hand and I noticed runes burned into his fingernails.  I immediately said “I’m not ready.”  He remained mere inches from my face as he said “Through Practice the Talents will surface.  Is this what you want?”  (What I had thought I meant by my answer was that I wasn’t ready to give him an answer yet.  What he countered with shows me that he answered my unspoken misgiving of “I, Corvidae, don’t know shit about shit and I’m unsure where to even start therefore I am completely under-qualified for this.”)  I felt my face blazing from him cutting directly through my bullshit.  I answered again, “I’m not ready to answer yet.”  He said, still freakishly looming in my face, “When you are, you come see me.”

I appeared quite abruptly on an old path in the forest I had started out in and moments later I heard the drum Call Back.  What’s most interesting about the Mists and my encounter with Odin is that that is Upper World Work.  One of the tell-tale signs of an Upper World Journey is having to push through some sort of membrane.  Clouds.  Mists.  Waters.  Can be anything.  The other tell-tale sign is the Ascent.  Flying, climbing, jumping there’s always an upward direction.  I was walking uphill, through the mists.  So that was kind of stunning for me when I got back into the physical.

The other interesting thing, every single woman around the circle had also had an Upper World Journey.  I knew that sometimes there is proximity sympathy while Journeying.  Sometimes you can pick up or share aspects of your own or someone else’s Journey due to 1) lying right next to them or 2) being across the circle from them.  The cross circle one fascinates me and apparently it happens all the time.  People positioned exactly opposite each other will share things.  It’s strange.  But for an entire Circle to all transition into the Upper World, well that’s amazing!

Anyway, that was my evening last night.  And that wasn’t what was ‘disturbing’ as the title of this entry states.  My dream last night was what was disturbing.

I was sitting on a log staring at a large fire.  I was part of a circle of people all sitting there, looking into the fire as drums beat out.  There was a distinct feeling of being out of place and out of time.  Just, separate.  All seemed well until I happened to glance at the man to my right who was sitting close enough to touch.  He turned his head as I looked at him and grinned.  I can’t even begin to describe the absolute wrongness of the movements.  Not just the weird over- coordination of the muscles but the way the skin settled over the bone structure.  Everything about him was wrong.  And he meant me harm.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  The smile was too wide.  The teeth were too many.  The eyes were too large for the sockets.  The skin wrinkled and got hung over the bones as if it didn’t fit right.  And he looked pleased as punch about it all.

My reaction, as I’m sure you’ll agree was warranted, was to lurch as quickly and violently as humanly possibly off of that bench.  I think I shouted something classy like, ‘Fuck!’.  I immediately sped backwards through the spirit world and back into my Sacred Space.  I didn’t waste a moment as I called my Guides close to me and asked them to shield me against that… thing.  They did and I slept without further incident.

This morning I immediately got up and checked my wards.  All were still in tact, so whatever it was didn’t follow me home.  And this morning I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what the fuck it was.  It was wearing a human’s skin.  But it wasn’t human.  If anyone has any insight into it please sound off.  I like to know what the hell I’m dealing with.

It’s possible that this was just a one off bit of randomness.  Traveling in the spirit world you meet all sorts of things.  But I want to cover my ass here.  This is the first time I’ve collided with something that just felt wrong.  Malicious.  And no one else around the Circle noticed him like that.  To them he must have looked like a normal dude?  Why did I see what he really was (sort of)?

This incident is notable in another way.  This is the first time that I can remember that I was lucid during dreaming.  I’ve tried more times than I can count to become a lucid dreamer.  But this was the first time I’ve ever been successful.  So bully for me!  But ugh what the fuck was that thing?

Seeing In The Dark (Solo Journey), Part 2

(Continued from Part 1)

Standing at the front of the boat I began to sing as we made our way slowly across the inky waters.  My voice rang out into the darkness, clear and strong, in a language unknown in the waking world.  The water, the rocks, even the very air seemed to be listening as I sang the song of the child’s life.  It rose and fell, sometimes powerful and sometimes no more than a soft moan, mimicking the life the child had just led and touching upon other lives the soul had experienced.  Accomplishments and failures, through love and war, on and on.  My voice felt as if it was coming from something far beneath me, channeling through my lungs and chords, up and out into what I now saw was a gloriously starry and active night sky above the waters.  We were still within the cave and yet somehow the sky was open above us, constellations and galaxies winked and spiraled.  Stars burst and contracted within their spheres.  Meteors blazed a path of chaos across the black.  And still my voice, singing the child’s soul, rose higher.

We reached the shore and I handed a coin to the boatman, squeezing his cold hand reassuringly in mine.  I smiled at him and left the cave.  I passed the monstrous black dogs, looking up and into their dark eyes as they skewered me with their gaze.  They let me pass but their eyes followed me until I was out.  I passed through the crevice once more, still singing, hearing the ocean growing nearer.

I came out onto jagged rocks lining the tumultuous sea and turned left, back towards civilizati0n, singing all the while.  I saw myself (in a third person kind of view), a slim, slight woman, long dark hair hanging in braids.  Beneath the veil (which reached to just above my ankles) I saw ornate jewelry and tattoos.  My face and form was seemingly beautiful from what I could make out, even with the smudges of cremation ash that covered my tattooed skin.  As I neared the cove (and the living) I stopped to sing the last of the song to the sea, freezing a few onlookers nearby in their tracks.  They froze and listened to me, none daring to approach.  I finished the last of the song and tossed the fetters of that child’s mortality into the sea.  (I had not realized until that moment that I was carrying fetters.)

Silence fell as I turned towards the stone steps that lead to the city.  A handful of people stood nearby, fishermen and merchants.  As I passed them they threw coins before me, at my feet.  An offering to appease what they feared was their death coming for them.  Some had no coins to throw so flowers and fruit fell before instead.  I picked none of it up as I passed, I just smiled beneath my veil.  In the now dawn-cresting streets of the city I heard the child’s funeral procession.  The wailing of a grieving mother has a very distinct sound.  I passed them in the narrow stone streets, me heading into the city, they heading out of the city.  As I passed the grieving mother, blistered with anger and loss, shaking as she cried out, I touched her shoulder gently.  The softest of touches, a gesture of compassion and her tears turned to joy and release.  She did not notice me, didn’t even know I was there.  I walked on.

Before I exited the trance completely I had an unusual meeting with myself then.  I stood in the streets, as I am now, and came face to face with myself then.  The dawn was just peeking on the horizon and we joined hands, just looking at each other for a few long moments.  She (I) imparted to me a huge chunk of knowledge as we stood there, not through words just through some sort of knowing.  Finally she lifted the veil that covered her and I was surprised to see that although yes she was a stunningly beautiful woman, she had age lines across her face.  There was a strange blend of age and youth that made her seem like she was all ages at once.  She grasped my shoulders and kissed me twice, once over each eye before we embraced and I moved out of the trance.

Some of the things she (I) communicated to me were related to the ‘order’ that she belonged to.  Always women.  Always unmarried and childless.  But not necessarily virgins or living a chaste life.  They lived and worked side by side with many different societies.  (I saw flashes of various gods/goddesses as well as priesthoods/sects associated with them.  Anubis.  Hades.  Hel.  Ereshkigal.  Osiris.  And others that I don’t know the names of.)  They performed a service for both the living and the dead.  Finding and helping the lost souls, the ones who could not make their own way, the ones causing trouble for the living.  Aiding the ones who were dying of a debilitating illness that caused loss of awareness as the threshold between mortality and the underworld was crossed.  The ones who died violent deaths often would be overcome with confusion or rage, they were helped as well.  And for the living they offered comfort, understanding and peace.  They were widely feared, being seen as women with a foot in both worlds at all times.  So even though more often than not they were beautiful and alluring, only the bravest of souls would willingly make contact with or bed them.  They had a rather strict code of silence in regards to the living, unless asked a direct question they would refrain from letting their voices be heard.  This was mainly because of their death-songs which gave way to superstitious belief that to hear their voices was to know death was coming for you.  It, of course, wasn’t true, but they kept their silence in order to keep from causing panic.  All of this fear added up to a life of extreme loneliness when it came to their day-to-day lives.  In dealing with the dead, however, they were often able to breach that gap and connect very strongly to those they were guiding over.

I was shown, through a series of quick memories that my soul had incarnated as one of these women numerous times in the past.  I had a certain set of skills and talents, not to mention memories, that I could draw on like a deep well that had been built up over countless lifetimes.  Reglen made sure to tell me that this was just one path before me, there are others that he wants me to be aware of in the near future.  I think he was trying to reassure me, since I knew that choosing that path had an enormous price to pay.  A large part of it has already been paid obviously, the price of the numerous deaths of those near to me and also the experience of actually dying that I had as a child.  In this life I’ve already seen death from every angle, within and without.  In order to work with death you have to really know death.  And you have to have no fear of it.  Which is one of the more curious aspects of me I suppose.  I’ve never actually had a fear of death.  The same morbid thoughts and experiences that send most folks reeling away have never had that affect on me.  I’ve always known it was strange but now it makes sense why I’m like that.  (Please don’t get the idea that I am afraid of nothing!  I have a debilitating fear of caterpillars and a violent fear of clowns.)  The price my mind if already balking at is the price of being lonely for the rest of my life.  I am lonely now and it sucks.  I can only imagine how much more heavy that burden will become if I start pursuing this path.

Thing is, this role is needed more than ever in this society.  Americans have completely lost their ability to deal with death.  And we are only hurting ourselves.  We homogenize death and grief with this weird shiny lacquer.  Death doesn’t even smell like death anymore.  It’s this strange absence of emotion.  Even at funerals, which are supposed to be our outlet for the worst of grief, we hold it all in so as not to make a scene.  God forbid someone actually be reminded that someone has just fucking died!  That’s just an expensive box with tons of fake dyed flowers on top of it.  It’s become clean.  It’s become hollow.  It’s become safe.  And we are killing ourselves and each other with unexpressed grief.

We don’t know how to die anymore.  We’ve forgotten.  And we’ve forgotten what we have to do after.  We’re lost.

I asked my Guides how I would proceed forward if I wanted to take this path.  I was told that I didn’t need an actual teacher, since I already know everything, I only need to remember.  I asked, “Who will help me remember?”  The serpent answered, “I will.”  My Fetch, only a deep male voice in my ear “I will.”  Reglen also indicated that there were three other possible helpers, one in the Lower World, one in the Upper World (that wears many different faces) and one who walks in many worlds (I was given to understand that this was an actual Shaman that I could meet in the physical world).

There’s more that happened yesterday but once again I am complete exhausted by this Work.  I have a lot to digest for now.