Tag Archives: meditation

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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.

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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.

 

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Lunacy

‘Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,

But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.

And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head.

-Emily Jane Brontë
That was my night last night.  We three were we four as we had invited a friend of ours to join us in our revelry.  At first there was some hesitance and a bit too much politeness, as is to be expected when you invite someone new to your Circle.  But for me, personally, I settled into an easy rhythm shortly after we got well and truly started.
We smudged each other with sage and cedar, laughing softly in the dying light.  Flowers adorned our altar and our hair.  We called our quarters in the gloaming, fitting that, as we had all agreed to work with the Fae.  Intentions were laid bare upon the scales of Libra.
But the best part of the night was when we moved our altar to the grass itself and encircled it with our bodies.  Shoes came off.  Hair came down.  Peripherals were forgotten.  A small smoldering pot of Copal and Dandelion smoked in our midst as we regarded each other by candlelight.
Then I saw it.
The moon, bigger than I can remember seeing it, rising just over the treeline.  It took my breath away.  I couldn’t even explain to my Sisters what I was reacting to, so I just held my breath and pointed.  We four sat in wonder and rapture, as the sacred smoke wafted over our bare skin in the spring air.  The moon was ripe with abundance, laughing as she bobbed further heavenward.
And then all hell broke loose.  In the best of ways.  There was spontaneous uncontrolled laughter.  Resonant humming.  Electrical malfunctions.  Curious eyes peeping over rooftops and small, sharp faces peering from the trees.  Pinching.  Tapping.  Tingling.  Swaying.  All set to a soundtrack of us four, laughing softly.
Lunacy, if you will.  Unsurprising since three of the four of us have Cancer Moons.  We all have the distinctive ‘lunar laugh’.  I’m sure you’ve heard it before.  Sometimes it starts out normal and then explodes in a shrieking cackle that startles everyone in the area.  Sometimes it’s low and deliciously sinister.  And sometimes it’s a soft, warm staccato that commands attention even though you’re not sure why.  No one laughs like a Cancer.
Edit – I am unsure what is going on with my nonexistent paragraph breaks.  As an Editor this post horrifies me, you have my apologies!  (trying to fix it)
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Sixth Sense & Intuition: Not the Same Thing

Oftentimes when talking to people I find that they use the terms ‘sixth sense’ and ‘intuition’ interchangeably which leads to some oddly confusing conversations since I believe they are two different things.  I end up having to preface things I say on either topic with a definition, in order to make sure we’re on the same page.

I will start with Intuition.  To me, intuition is a purely logical thing.  Intuition is the subconscious gathering of information, cues and changes in the environment, filtered through memory databanks and instinct and shot back out into our perception.  It’s what has enabled us, as Humans, to survive and thrive as long as we have.  It’s our ‘danger sense’ and ‘gut-reaction’.  It’s designed to keep us safe.  Some people don’t trust their intuition and generally they end up in accidents, violent situations or worse.

There is nothing supernatural about intuition to me.  It’s just one of the many wonders that human instinct has honed.  Sometimes it can seem supernatural, sure.  That one time you looked at that man and he looked nice and seemed normal but something told you not to get in that elevator alone with him; only to later find out he attacked someone on that same elevator not minutes later.  Sure, that could seem supernatural and unexplainable.  But it really isn’t.  Our brains are amazing, able to absorb, categorize, understand and infer all in the blink of an eye.  We don’t even have to work at it!  It does it all on its own.  You didn’t consciously see anything strange about that man on the elevator, but your subconscious did.  It noticed the nervous hand movements.  It noticed his inability to look you in the eye when he was smiling.  And it assembled all of these little things together, looked at them as a whole and realized that this was a suspicious situation that could end in harm.  All in a matter of moments.

My intuition, as it pertains specifically to the ‘danger sense’ always manifests in the same way.  I feel it somewhere between my solar plexus and my bellybutton.  That sinking feeling.  That feeling that something is amiss.  Sometimes, it’s gone off so strongly that I’ve felt outright fear and during those times, I run, I don’t walk.  Fear keeps us alive.  (If anyone wants to explore this topic further I highly recommend The Gift of Fear.  I would also very much like to hear from Lady Imbrium on this topic, as her line of work relies on this ability.)

Sixth sense is different.  To me, having a ‘sixth sense’ isn’t concerned with keeping you safe or alive.  Sixth sense has a much wider view.  Also, unlike intuition (which everyone has), sixth sense isn’t something we all get.  I think that anyone can practice at it and get at least a basic working of it, but as for that kind of jaw-dropping, hard-to-explain experience?  Nope.

A sixth sense IS supernatural.  It has nothing to do with your brain going behind your back and assembling data into a Fight or Flight response.  It has everything to do with you perceiving something or someone outside of your normal realm of senses.  And it’s a broad catagory too, I would be here all day if I were trying to list everything that falls under this catagory, so I won’t.  Instead I will just talk about my own experiences and hopefully you guys will share your stories in the comments!

I’m going to skip over experiences from when I was a child as children have an automatic leg up when it comes to this kind of perception.  Most people lose it as they get older, usually through neglect or disbelief.  So I will start with my teenage years.

When I was 16 I smelled my grandfathers aftershave in my grandmother’s bathroom and looked up into the mirror in time to see him standing behind me in the doorway.  It freaked me out so bad I could barely explain what had happened to my mother and grandmother.  It also made me very very sad because I was very close to my grandfather who had passed when I was 9.

When I was 18 I was living in my first apartment in downtown Houston.  (I talked about this place in my Tarot post.)  It was a wonderful old building that had been split into 4 units.  Hard-wood floors, rounded corners, very 1920’s architecture.  One afternoon I had gotten out of work early to find that I had the apartment all to myself.  I flopped onto my back on the couch to relax with a nice breeze coming through the open windows.  The tv was off but the radio was on.  I was tired but not asleep yet, my eyes were closed for a few moments before something made me open them again.  When I did, the entire room had changed.  The furniture was different, the light coming through the windows was morning light, not afternoon, and the breeze I had been enjoying was gone (the windows were now closed).  There were three people in the room with me, all dressed in what looked to be 30’s-ish fashions.  There was one woman and two men.  The woman was facing me, with her back to one of the windows, her face looked drawn and tense.  Unhappy.  The two men had their backs to me, both facing the woman.  I couldn’t hear anything but the feeling of the room felt like an argument.  Some sort of emotionally charged situation.  The vision (more like complete immersion) I had experienced only stayed for a few seconds and then the room faded back to my apartment as it was when I lived there.  I left the apartment quite abruptly, unable to explain what the fuck I had just experienced.  Over the next few months I inquired about the place through neighbors and my landlord and found out that I was most definitely not the only one experiencing supernatural things.

After that my sixth sense experiences were more frequent (but not commonplace) and they weren’t as intense as those two.  Usually it was just ‘caught something out of the corner of my eye’ or ‘heard a voice when no one was there’ kind of thing.  Which leads me to my mother’s death…

My mother died in my arms on October 12, 2010.  It was as traumatic and emotionally decimating as you might expect.  Two weeks later (exactly to the day), my Uncle (my mom’s brother and the last surviving member of that side of the family), whom I was very close to, dropped stone-dead of a heart attack out of nowhere.  Two months later (almost exactly) there was another death in this house, right in front of me,  on Xmas Eve morning.  And almost 6 months later there was another one, again, right in front of me.  I am not revealing this to garner sympathy, trust me, I’ve heard enough ‘I’m so sorry for your loss’ and ‘Is there anything I can do?’ to last me ten lifetimes.  I’m just sharing this here in order to shed some light on what happened next…

Suddenly, on a sunny afternoon in July, I discovered that I was very strongly clairaudient.  Despite previous experiences I had never once considered myself to be ‘psychic’ or anything of the sort.   Hell, up until last Summer I didn’t even consider myself to be ‘sensitive’.  At first, after I got over the outright shock of it (which manifested in ‘Did you hear that?’  ‘You heard that, right?’  ‘TELL ME YOU HEARD THAT?!’) I thought maybe my mind had snapped.  That all of the trauma and grieving and loss had piled up so high that my rational mind had gone ‘You know what? Fuck this!’ and exited stage left.  I think it’s normal to question your sanity in situations like this, especially if it comes on you abruptly via trauma, like mine did.  I had always heard stories of people experiencing a horrendous trauma and suddenly they can see ghosts or bend spoons or tell the future.  And it wasn’t even that I didn’t believe that happens, I just didn’t believe it could happen to me.

The biggest problem right now, is that I have zero control over it.  If something is nearby that wants to talk or make noise, I can’t shut it out, I just hear it.  And let me tell you, there is some freaky shit that goes on right near us.  Mid-October through mid-November was a particularly rough time.  (When they say the veil gets thin, they aren’t fucking kidding.)  I barely got any sleep from all the noise and in my waking hours I was jumpy.  The clair-audience is by far the strongest sense I have but I learned during that span of time that I was clairvoyant as well.  (To a lesser degree, but the more I’ve used it the stronger it’s gotten.)  My house turned into a train depot for the dead, just spirits constantly moving through my space, mostly not paying any attention to me but making a lot of noise nonetheless.  (For the record, the activity picked up like that again around the Winter Solstice.)

Some days are worse than others.  I will go weeks with nothing and then suddenly for an entire day I have something chattering away at me or banging around and being annoying in my general vicinity.  One of the biggest problems with the chattering is that I can’t parse it very well.  It’s almost like I’m trying to parse a foreign language, even though I know they are speaking English.  It’s very strange and I chalk it up to me being a complete noob at this.  I just don’t know how to get the channel to come in clearly yet.  Sometimes a single word will come through but that’s about it.  (This obviously isn’t the case with my Guides/Deities I work with.  They come through loud and clear.  Reglen once told me it was because their (Guides and Deities) vibrations are a lot higher.)

As far as my sensitivity goes, it’s been magnified tenfold.  When a spirit or any other autonomous energy source is near I first feel it in my hands and forearms.  My fingers start to quiver, then my hands start with the tremors and I feel the energy creep up my lower arms.  If it’s strong enough, it pushes all the way up into my shoulders and the rest of my body, but my hands always feel it first.  It feels like a nervous energy.  And I can differentiate via my hands, whether I’m dealing with the dead, the fae or something else.  They just feel different.

Anyway, I have other stories but I’d really like to hear from some of you!

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My Daily Meditation Practice: Freedom of State

Meditation is something I do everyday.  Sometimes I even do it twice a day.  There have been times in my life when I have gone long stretches without it and judging by the miserable state I was in during those times I can honestly say my life is better with meditation.  As humans (especially Americans) we’re so busy trying to do so much, even our forms of entertainment and relaxation bombard our senses with an overload of activity that we have no time to sit, think, breathe and just be.

I consider myself lucky in that I live alone, in a house, in a quiet neighborhood.  I have a big backyard with a giant Live Oak cradling it.  Anytime the mood strikes me to meditate indoors or out, I can meditate without worry of interruption.  And I can linger as long as I like.

Daily meditation gives me a chance to breathe, I mean really breathe, without tasks and people crowding me.  It also opens up the floor for my Guides to talk to me or bring me any messages they might have.  Without that quiet, still space, the signal to noise ratio would be too much for me to connect with them.  And I’ve noticed that even though I don’t meditate all day, as long as I do it regularly I can hear them just fine at any other point in the day.  The intention of stillness is the point, I think.

There are a few things I do in order to meditate.  First thing I do is make sure that if I’m sick or I’ve pulled a muscle I’ve medicated adequately.  Nothing ruins meditation like a sneezing fit or a pulled hamstring.  I don’t take any medication that will ‘addle’ me though.

Next thing I do is make sure my space is clear.  I am particular about where I meditate.  As an Air sign, if the room or the area is cluttered or messy I can’t relax.  If I can’t relax, I can’t meditate.  Air has to circulate in my chosen area.  If it doesn’t I get agitated and grumpy.  (The exception to this is outdoors.  If it’s a still day I can relax just fine, but I do prefer a bit of wind.)

I sit up when I meditate.  For me, laying down is only for shamanic journeying.  (This is kind of a funny thing with me.  In the past I’ve had a hard time meditating while laying down because I would just fall asleep a lot of times.  Which is why I taught myself to meditate sitting up (or on occasion, standing).  Yet with shamanic journeying I have never once fallen asleep or even come close to it.  I will have to puzzle at that a bit because it’s intriguing.)  Usually I sit in Staff Pose (yoga pose) with my hands at my sides touching the floor (only for intense grounding), on the tops of my thighs or in dhyana mudra.  Other times I sit cross-legged with a straight back and my hands in dhyana mudra, prayer, on the tops of my thighs (palms up) or in guyan mudra.  (The mudras bled into my meditation organically from my yoga practices.)  Those two seated positions are my usual for meditation, but sometimes I meditate while standing (which is a very interesting way to see where your physical body is out of balance!).

I wear whatever I happen to be wearing at the time and make sure that the temperature is manageable.  And my eyes are almost always rolled and closed.  Although recently I’ve begun experimenting with a few half-open, soft-focus peripheral gazes during meditation which are… interesting.

Sometimes I meditate in full silence.  Sometimes, when outdoors, I focus on the sounds of nature around me.  Sometimes I focus inward on my heartbeat and breath.  And sometimes I play music, usually Tibetan Singing Bowls.  I listen to my body.  I let it tell me what’s wrong.  I focus on each chakra and make sure everything is moving.  Sometimes I discover problems to work on, and that becomes the focus of that meditation.  Sometimes the problems can’t be fixed in one meditation and I have to work on it specifically later, either through diet, yoga or more meditation.  Sometimes emotions come up, seemingly out of nowhere and I have to figure out where they go.  Sometimes, despite my best efforts, I just can’t keep my mind on task.  I no longer beat myself up over those times, I just laugh and move on.

Guided meditations are very enjoyable to me as well and recently I’ve been trying out some free online ones.  All you need is a headset and a clear space near your computer.  You could even do these in your chair!  Fragrant Heart seems to have my favorites so far.  The Meditation Podcast is good too.  As well as Meditation Oasis.  I’ve also been known to make my own guided meditations by using the standard windows audio recorder (my headset has a mic, can you tell I’m a computer gamer?).

I spend anywhere from 5 to 30 minutes in meditation daily.  This might seem like a lot but when you think about how much time you waste: texting, playing some silly flash game, watching tv commercials, procrastinating, checking FB, tweeting, etc, you realize it really isn’t that much time to set aside.  And unlike all that other bullshit, meditation is actually good for you.  Physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually, it is good for you.  My ability to connect with my Guides at all times, my magickal power and presence, my ‘other’ awareness has multiplied tenfold from daily meditation.  I don’t get angry easily anymore.  I don’t freak out over stress and worry.  My inner critic isn’t as barbed.  Laughter comes more often and easier.  I could go on, but you get the idea.

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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.

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Where Is My… Mind?

So part of the Moon workshop I’ve been doing has been observing and logging how I feel every day while tracking the Moon’s phase.  I fear my Full Moon data was compromised by some bit of ick that I was fighting off so I will have to keep logging through the next one.  But as it stands right now I’ve noticed a large spike in accordance with the moon’s wane.  Not bouncing off the walls energy, no, that’s Full Moon energy.  But a wide-awake, alert, whip-smart sort of focus that started on the wane and has only built.  To me, the waning Moon has always been a time for intense study, meditation, learning.  The lady who leads the workshop, thinks the Moon takes away during the wane, but that’s not what it feels like to me.  The Moon pulls inward during the wane.  To me that’s a gathering of strength, a clear introspection and fierce independence.

I’m still enjoying the workshop even though I don’t agree with the lady offering it.  Some of what she says is great, and some of it just leaves me confused (because it’s the opposite of what I’ve experienced).  But again, we don’t have to see directly eye to eye.  She’s Wiccan and proud of it, I am… not.  And I haven’t been Wiccan for about fifteen years.  I still remember how it all works for a Wiccan though so I can see where her head is at.

This last Sunday we worked on the Waning Moon.  There are very few actual verifiable associations specifically for the Waning Moon so instead we worked on the Moon’s season.

Moon in Winter Associations –

Herbs: Basil, Fennel

Gems: Onyx and Amethyst

Oils: Clove, Coriander, Lavender, Tea Tree, Rose, Rosemary, Sage, Patchouli, Peppermint

Element: Water

Time: Twilight (Time of day/night, not that crap series of books)

Color: Black

Deity: Astarte, Europa, Hekate

I made an oil blend using a Sweet Almond carrier that consisted of Sage, Patchouli and Coriander with a pinch of Basil.

Note on Patchouli: So I, like most people, loathed Patchouli for a good many years until I realized I had never actually smelled the real thing.  What you smell in/on incense/candles/hippies/headshops isn’t actually real Patchouli, it’s a cheap analogue.  The real thing, as in the essential oil, smells amazing.  The fake shit smells like fermented armpit.

Our homework this week is to moonbathe in the Waning Moon’s light.  I haven’t done it just yet though.  Maybe tonight.

Tomorrow night I have my ‘At Home in the Universe: Conversing With Our Unique Path’ Shamanic Circle.  I’ve been looking forward to this one for weeks!  (Also that reminds me, last week’s Shaman Circle yielded an amazing Journey that I need to blog about here.)

Oh one more thing, I looked up my birthday (the proper year) on an in depth Moon calender.  Turns out I was born on a New Moon.

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Full Moon Homework

So last night I attended the first of four Moon Phase Workshops with Kachina.  Working with the moon was one of the first things I ever learned about witchcraft in general, and I’m glad to say it was drilled into my thick skull over and over again.  So I knew some of the stuff in this workshop would be repeats.  However in comparison to the Full Moon, the Dark Moon often gets outright ignored, which is one of my main reasons for wanting to do this.  Also this workshop heavily focuses on herb and essential oil associations with the phases and that’s right up my alley.

So last night we were working with the Full Moon since we are very very close to it right now.  I made an oil blend of Jasmine and Vanilla (the real Vanilla which smells quite different than what you use to bake with) with Poppy seeds thrown in and I used a Coconut oil carrier.  Smells really good but what I actually used to decide on the blend was how it made me feel when I breathed it in.  I felt in my chest, this kind of ‘opening up’ expansive feeling so I knew it was right.

The leader of the workshop is a hilarious older lady who Kachina is much closer to than I am.  I like her a lot but I do find some of her beliefs don’t work for me at all and I’ve also noticed a few things she passes off as fact that just aren’t true.  But I can overlook it since she is very personable and it doesn’t really affect my Work in any way whether or not someone sees exactly eye to eye with me.  (The completely erroneous ‘facts’ bug me though but I kept my big mouth shut.)  Here are the associations for the Full Moon that she gave us.

Gem – Moonstone

Colors – Red and Green

Carrier oil – Coconut

Essential Oils – Jasmina, Sandalwood, Vanilla, Sweet Orange

Herbs – Myrrh and Poppy

Deities – Astarte, Calliope, Nemesis, Mari, Rhode, Selene

Favored Work – divination, family, knowledge, protection

Again, these are her associations for the Full Moon.  Some of them work for me, some of them don’t.  But I’m writing them here so I don’t lose them.

Our homework (to be done by next Sunday) is to find a new use for Moon Water.  Begin keeping a daily log of how we feel (in order to nail down which phases we personally work best with).  And moonbathing, which is just exactly what it sounds like.  Kachina will be coming over tomorrow night at midnight for some moonbathing.  Although the weather looks to be against us.  If it is, we will just make a fire, do some guided rune meditation and drink red wine.  It’s win/win.

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The Pre-ritual Rituals: Of Baths and Sundries

It occurs to me that my rituals begin long before they actually begin.  Let me explain.  Usually when I think of myself doing a ritual I think of myself in my Circle, all my trinkets and tools at hand, incense caressing my face as I speak words from my heart.  But that isn’t where my rituals actually begin.  In fact, that’s much closer to the end than the beginning.

There are some times that my ritual begins a lot earlier than others.  As in the case of Fasting.  When I fast I always start it 24 hours prior to (my best guess at) my Circle Call.  Sometimes it is a complete fast, as in nothing but water.  Other times it’s a nothing but water tea and fruit fast, which leads to mad smoothie making!  Generally I only fast on particularly auspicious dates.  Or if I know I’m going to be scrying or doing oracular work in general.  Something about fasting just disconnects me just enough to put me in direct contact with the otherworld.

Most of the time though, my ritual begins with my ritual bath.  (Yes, sometimes it is a ritual shower but I find that’s kind of like picking fast food over a good meal.)  It starts shortly after I gather what I need for the bath.  Depending on who or what I am doing that night I tend to go with colors and scents that are in accordance.  For instance, just now, since tonight is my Coven’s celebration of Imbolc, I went with green candles on every surface of the bathroom and Cinnamon incense burning.  Cinnamon is fiery and it makes me think of hearth and home, so to me it makes me think of Brigid.

If I’m coming from a particularly emotional or stressful state of mind I smudge myself with Smoky Quartz or Citrine.  I keep both in my bathroom, just in case.

Into the bath goes scented bath salts, herbs and bubbles.  I spare no expense with my ritual bath.  It is just about the only time I really pamper myself, sadly.  As I prepare the bath and light the candles/incense up comes Pandora on my computer.  (For those who are curious, if you look at my Twitter feed on the right, when you see a message that I’m listening to my ‘Through the Forest’ playlist that means I’ve started my ritual prep.  And feel free to listen to my station and make judgy faces at it.)

When the lights go out is the exact moment my ritual space opens up.  I carry one single candle from my bedroom to the bathroom.  One single candle to light my way as I listen to the music and breathe deeply.  Then the clothes come off and into the water I go.  I generally languish in the water as long as possible.  I visualize all negativity seeping out of my pores.  I run my hands over my skin to slough the shadows from me.  I breathe out the bad and breathe in the good.  Out goes Anger.  In comes Peace.  Out goes Sadness.  In comes Hope.  Out goes Stress.  In comes Clarity.  You get the picture.

Sometimes I speak to what Deity or Being I will be working with that night.  Almost like a prayer.  It’s where I share any misgivings or indecision, so that when the moment of truth comes I can speak without faltering.

After the bath I anoint myself with oils that I only ever wear during magickal Work.  It helps tell my subconscious mind, in case it hasn’t gotten the hint yet, that it’s time to cross the boundary from mundane to sacred.  And that’s really what all of this is about.  Giving my logical brain all the clues it can take until it gets out of the way and let’s my Spirit take the wheel.  Sometimes the switch over is abrupt, like a lightning bolt.  Most times it’s very subtle.  All my senses engaged in the bathing, the smoke, the perfumes, the feel of the water until finally I realize that I’m already there.  I’m already between the worlds.

I take great care in selecting what jewelry I wear during a magickal Working.  I always wear my Mjolnir (Thor’s Hammer), even during mundane day to day, so that’s a given.  I always wear my silver Aztec ring on my power hand (It’s huge and scrolls up and down, covering half my ring finger, it makes me think of a strong gust of wind.)  Sometimes, if I know I’m going to need my clairaudience, I wear my moonstone earrings.  If I know teamwork with my Sisters is of particular importance on that night I wear my Raven necklace (all three of us have them).  I could go on, but you get the idea.

After the bath the music stays on as I cast my bone runes and pull some tarot cards.  These readings only pertain to the task at hand and they are beyond useful for seeing any snags before they happen.  If my heart isn’t in the right place, if I haven’t prepared properly, if I’m calling to the wrong Being, I see it in the runes or in the cards.

Then I dress and fiddle about until it’s time.  My fiddling is still done with the music going and the incense burning as there is no sense going right back into the mundane after I worked so hard to get out of it.  Generally I do a lot of fiddling on Pinterest.  (If you haven’t discovered Pinterest you are missing out!  You can find My Pinterest under my Links on the right side of the page here.)  I’ve found lots of inspiration while browsing Pinterest.

Anyone else have any pre-ritual rituals they want to share?  I’d love to hear what other people do.

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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.