By the Waters of Life Restore My Soul

There is a world of difference between bathing for ritual and a Bathing Ritual.

At 5:23 a.m. I awoke. I knew what I had to do. The instructions came in dreams induced by herbal decoctions in form of tisanes and also inhaled as Sacred Smoke. Sts. Cyprian and Michael gave me the instruction.

So I began boiling water, an entire kettle for the herb bath. Half a handful of Skullcap, a handful of Spearmint, and three large pinches of Barberry root. After the kettle sang I set this to steep in the steaming vessel.

Then I put on a pot with three gallons in it and let come to a boil. Meanwhile I read from the Book of John, as I had been previously instructed by St. Cyprian.

When this pot began to boil (not quite rolling), I set it aside and began boiling a third pot with five gallons of water in it. While I waited I sang Lord of the Dance and finished my previous blog post. As the water reached a good strong rolling boil, I prepared a scrub of rose petals, salt, and honey.

I began at sunrise with establishing a sacred space and the recitation of prayers,. Afterwards I entered between the flames of Madre Huesa and Erzengel Michael. Then I applied the scrub. I did my initial rinse with the warm herb infusion, followed by five bowls of cold water. After the salt scrub had been thoroughly rinsed and had intermingled with the herbal  solution, I added the first pot of warm water. again I rinsed five times. The boiling water was added slowly to avoid injury. I then did another round of prayers and holy songs, I soaked until the water was cold.

The tub was drained while reciting more prayers. Final rinse with bowls of cold water. Then I sat on a towel on the floor basking in the sun streaming through my open window. When dry, I said a final round of prayers and thanked all spirits High and Low that attended for their presence. 

I feel very vital, alive, and infused with spirit. Have a blessed day.

Tools of the Craft

It's about  time for my annual High Mowing Ritual, which happens to coincide with the autumnal equinox.I love the word equinox; it literally means "equal night", beautiful. There is no logical explanation for this coincidence of events, it just feels right. My excitement is heightened this year by two events, both blog related. First was this absolutely wonderful piece from Jen Rue, entitled Tools of the Game. I have been considering the magic of tools recently, there is much in world fairy lore about tools; more on that in a bit. It was after I read this reflection on Dark Ecology by Paul Kingsnorth, who was brought to my attention by the good Aidan, that I discovered what my next tool shall be; a scythe.

 BODENEHEMANN

 

To decide to take on the role of Bodenehemann or "Land Husband" is a commitment to listen and be rewarded with unexpected rewards. To take this liminal role as a boundary keeper, bridging the gap between wild and domestic is a responsibility to also maintain balance. We are the last defense on both sides.

As I dream about next years adventure with a scythe, I prepare for this year's last of the season mowing. Looking about the property I notice an amazing thing, a forest is growing. I have been combining, forest gardening, native species rehabilitation and a hands off approach, to slowly achieve a balance between my needs and the needs of the community of life in This Place. Squirrels will provide an example.

Sciurus Niger, the humble Fox Squirrel, hated by birders and gardeners alike, this lovely fiend has become one of my greatest allies. I used to fret about the competition for pecans and acorns, until I paid attention to what was actually happening in my yard. Squirrels do not eat dry pecans, they don't. They eat green pecans, and bury dry pecans. in the spring when the pecans sprout they dig them up and eat the small green tree. Squirrels are gardeners. This stunning realization coupled with the presence of pecan trees and oak trees in places that I had not planted in, lead me to reassess my relationship with squirrel. Now we have an arrangement, I don't gather pecans until late in the season, and squirrel plants trees and trim the ends of the branches. When I first saw a squirrel chewing the end of a branch I thought it was damaging it, turns out it works like pruning. The tree responds to the stress by producing more branches, which produce more pecans, brilliant. The pecans I gather by the way are still clinging to green husks, way out on the end of low hanging branches, easy for me to pick and unsafe for squirrel to fall from so close to the ground where the predators are. the pecans are usually bigger sweeter and still moist sometimes, definitely worth the wait. I only gather acorns every other year. Added bonus, I get to cull the squirrel population.

Every part of the property has it's own needs and arrangements. At first I thought I was sacrificing too much, but once I learned certain things like brush pile away from the house give rodents somewhere else to stay in the winter than in your house. Also putting said brush into the arroyo will cut down on erosion and save topsoil. I don't rake until spring, by then it is a great mulch that has helped seedlings stay warm all winter. I pile it up in spring and let it melt into the yard throughout the year. Nature wastes nothing. Slowly I have begun building "islands" small areas that are a mixture of whatever blew in on the wind, native plants and certain herbs that I cultivate surrounded by a border of rocks or logs from the property or neighboring properties. These become hands off zones where I let nature do its thing. As time goes by I am learning more and more about how to integrate into the environment. A rewilding of the physical and the spiritual aspects of myself and the land.

SCHROTFLINTE ZAUBERS

 

Shotguns and sigil shoaling work on very similar principles, by firing multiple projectiles all at once you are more likely to hit the target. Take it another step and dress your shotgun shells with sigils. then make targets of the sigils themselves and fire the gun at them. Each level adds energy. I plan on doing this, but using a barrel as the target. afterwards I will cut the barrel in half and make two fire containers further adding to the enchantment.

Do not think that this is willy-nilly random firing, no just like hunting, magic works better with target practice, a calm hand, a steady eye, and breath control. You are still definitely aiming for a target, your are just increasing your odds of hitting it. This approach can also be accomplished by combining techniques, Materia, invocation, sigil shoaling, micro- and macro-enchantments, candle magic, and spirit work are all combined whenever I launch a magical campaign. Volume is the key.

Fire works and explosives are also handy for energizing sigils and releasing spells. At new years every year we set off two large strands of fireworks with prayers of prosperity and health attached. This year we used incense sticks to light them. We written sigils and intentions on balloons with corn starch in them, thrown into a fire they make fireballs. Sky rockets, bottle rockets, and roman candles can all be utilized. Shotgun Spells are about a multi pronged attack and explosive results.

IM ERDREICH 

 

It's time to get back into the underworld.Time to reacquaint with root and bone. The bare essentials of life and death. Back down into the Unterwelt, to work with Hermekate, the grand androgyne of dark alchemy, deep shadow work. My guides on this Journey will the ever present Madre Hueso, the Necro Saint, San Cipriano, and San Lazarus. Down into the earth.

Earth magic is where one finds the overlap between the sacred and the mundane. More precisely it is where you find that the mundane is the most sacred of all. The Lord of Earth, Auld Hornie, never lets you forget this and thus is feared. To accept your animal nature is the beginning of liberation, not a block against it. To get down into the dirt is to literally get down into yourself.

HEILIGE WERKZEUGE

 

I have knives to consecrate, a scythe to purchase, and a machete to bless. Every tool I possess is sacred to me. I develop a bond, a trust with my tools.  Some tools, like those previously mentioned are used for day to day matters, and others are only used for ritual purposes. Some like my zymurgy supplies and my knives transcend both worlds.

As I said at the beginning of the year, this has been the Year of Knives, and cutting year it has been, I see a very definite rift forming in global society between those aware of our global society and those who aren't. Change is inevitable and like urban coyotes, we need to adjust to our new surroundings. For the Magi, I believe that like the Cook County Coyotes we to must become like ghosts. Operating just out of sight, but our effect can still be felt. Our cunning is our best tool.

Cunning just like knives has a sharp edge that will quickly remove the unnecessary. Coupled with Knowledge , cunning becomes a multi tool and a sword at the same time. Your tool kit is comprised of many things, both physical and non material, it is important to keep them all shiny and sharp. When did you last do an inventory on your toolbox? Sometimes we find things we didn't even know we were missing.

Being Authentic

Originally when I decided to join the conversation started by Briana Saussy in her blogpost, Seeming Being, and the Courage to go Deeper, and continued by Aidan Wachter in his response, A Beautiful Light?, I thought I was going to write about the land I live on. Many unanticipated circumstances, however, have intervened and lead me to different place. First I did some Hedge-crossing on May Day Night. I then concluded my year and a day Earth ritual series, followed up by a massive working with both St. Cyprian and Santisima Muerte. Every step of the way illusions were shattered, expectations exceeded, and my sense of "being" tested.

FIRST STEPS

I first questioned the seeming nature of reality versus its true nature when at the age of sixteen I read the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu, the same year I took High School Chemistry. As I learned about atoms and molecules and how they affect each other I became fascinated with how all that was happening at a level we could not perceive without highly specialized equipment. Remembering the Tao, I was struck by the awesome simplicity of it; what is is, but you cannot know all that is because you are part of all that is. Godel's Incompleteness Theorem, several centuries earlier, espoused by a poet mystic.

Since that year I have always questioned that which I think happened versus what may have actually happened. as Robert Anton Wilson said, "A flag flying in the wind is the truth, everything else is just media." In other words to know the reality of something we must experience the reality of something and even then our experience becomes a filter of interpretation skewing that reality. In this model, reality becomes fluid, which it appears to be at a quantum level.

THERE AND BACK AGAIN

The night of May first into May second I crossed the hedge with the aid of entheogens. I had visions of riding to Brocken  for the Walpurgisnacht Sabbath , which of course had happened the night before. I recognized this as a projection of fantasy and desire, so I began to center myself. After becoming quite still, I felt a buzzing sensation in my thighs, it moved up my body until everything was throbbing, buzzing, tingling. I looked up and saw a cloaked figure motion me towards a large cauldron. I went to her. She told me to look into the cauldron.

I asked,"Who are you?"

"As old as the wind, and as dry too. I come in the night, ancient and full of life."

"What is your origin?"

"The fiery remains of stars, that cooled long before your world existed."

"What do I call you?"

"I have been called, Talto, Petrota, and others. You know me as Kali, but I am Lilitu."

Hesitantly I peer into the cauldron, and fall in. I say in because I did not fall down, but rather at an angle and then I lost sense of direction. I saw many things, works that I am completing, works to be initiated, and how I am my biggest blockage. Then I moved up. Up through the earth, up through my feet, up through to my head. I awoke. It was 3:30 a.m. May second.

THE END OF THE EARTH

The second of May ended a year and a day cycle of working with earth. It has forever altered my work, I have found spiritual gold in the most mundane of objects. In the process I discovered the Prima Materia Magica, Dirt. I am a Dirt Sorcerer. So I did my closing work and pledged to work for better dirt everywhere. I normally feel a small vacuum after concluding a ritual cycle, but this time I feel very solid and grounded, literally.

One cycle ends and another begins. Now I begin. I have spent so long with this bit of work that I have lost touch with some parts of myself. I will look them over and decide what no longer serves me and let it go. Other things I will choose to learn more about. My earth work is leading me towards alchemy and a renewed appreciation of Materia.

FROM THE MOUTHS OF SPIRITS

In the wee morning hours of the second day of May, I began to communicate with St. Cyprian and La Flaca. We concluded some previous work and I began to converse with them over some coffee. I asked La Flaca if she had any advice, her response was shocking. She told me to quit complaining. I asked what she meant by this and Cyprian replied. He told me to stop wearing my failure like a badge of honor.

I knew immediately what he meant, I have a tendency to give into a martyr complex. I convince myself that my self imposed suffering is somehow beneficial to the whole of humanity. Horse shit. So many times I have convinced myself that I am part of some oppressed group in the religious minority. This is only true in the sense that there is an overwhelming bias towards one religion in this country; Commerce. As for the minority part, yes I have a spiritual practice that is mine alone. He was admonishing me to own my life. Isn't that what being a sorcerer is all about?

It is these times when I hear things from the spirits that are uncomfortable, or make me uneasy that I know I am dealing with something outside of my normal experience. None of this was presented harshly, just as a nudge in the right direction. This how I know it is Authentic.

THE CAULDRON OF RETURN

After working with La Flaca,and Cyprian I went back to sleep . It was about 6:45 a.m. I dreamt of a circle of light hovering over head, and I was swimming towards it. As I broke the surface, I awoke. I had emerged from the cauldron. At first, I doubted that I had done workings until I noticed the lit candles, incense ash, and fresh roses from the garden. A flood of memories washed over me and I began to write down what I could remember. Some of it will take a while to figure out, but most is clear. I am not the same as when I entered.

I have strength and resolve that was missing before. Some of the things I took for granted are crumbling and falling apart. The facade is decaying, but there is already new growth, and I must face myself and ask those three questions.

Who are you?

Where do you come from?

What is your name?