This Thanksgiving is one I will not soon forget, as it was book-ended by Death.. The day before I learned that my friend, mentor, and Green Muse, Wes Nations, a.k.a. Johnny Vagabond, had died due to complications from liver disease. Learning form my Grandmothers passing, I cried this out instead of holding it in. There is still much to process, but only time can heal, now. The harder death was to come the day after thanksgiving. Our cat, Elvira, sweet guardian of our front porch, was attacked and killed by a stray dog. Wes's passing was hard and unexpected, my cat's violent and brutal, many thanks I have been giving for this fragile gift of life. At this point in the year, after so many passings I have come to a place of acceptance with it all, after all isn't death just another Faceless God? I feel more determined than ever to continue planting my seeds.
As I have mentioned before, Santisima Muerte told me to seek out Saint Cyprian. What I did not know was his connection to the ancestral seas. Conjure Man Ali, describes it pretty well at his blog, so follow this link for more details. During this Season of Letting Go, I have come to learn much about a life less ordinary, but never in my wildest dreams have I imagined such depths as I found within myself this year. Wisdom comes at a high price sometimes, and sometimes it drips from the heavens like honey rain, sometimes it does both. This is one of those times and my Bendicion de San Cipriano has been the bridge that holds it all together. My next step is to follow the ritual at Conjure Man Ali's site, I will report what happens.
It all comes back to the Earth, the Primal Magic that is literally right beneath your feet.This dirt that we taken for granted, this mundane miracle of the everyday, sustains all life and death upon this rock we call home. From the remains of untold ancestors, we grow new life that one day will feed and sustain future generations of life. All through the dirt, the root of all sorcery, right there on the ground, the most powerful Materia Magica of Mother, her very flesh. What has more generative power? What else contains a bit of all that has been? What else is the foundation of all that is? There's even dirt at the bottom of the ocean.There it is, I have found ground again, and with it a renewed sense of Dirt Sorcery and Ur-Sorcery.
Just how amazing is our day to day, this that is taken for granted.The everyday, the mundane is what sustains everything we do. So many days wasted, looking for that which is at hand, the Holy Land. Santa Terra, her face can only be seen from space, but you can know her simply by lying down upon the ground. I venerate her as a lover does the object of their affection. We have ongoing relationship, and as with any lover I choose to protect and nurture her, this is what it means to be Ecosexual.
I have sailed upon the Sea of Sorrow, through the treacherous Straits of Grief, to nearly drown in the(en)Gulf(ed) of Depression, but here at last I have found ground. With Granny Vagabond, I will plant my seeds, in the most primal Magic I know, Dirt. I will Give Voice to what I know and keep the knowledge alive. As my mentor, and dear friend, Wes Nations used to say about Entheogenic Plants, the more love you give now, the more love you'll receive later.This it seems is true of all things.