The Ramblings and Wanderings

Posts Tagged ‘About Juniper’

30 trips around the Sun!

I use a mixture of stones, bones, sticks and bits gathered over the years to practice divination and to talk to the spirits. Or rather to have them talk to me.

It began in the summer of 2002 when I finally broke down and admitted to myself that I am just not the kind of girl to use other people’s systems.

I worked my ass off with tarot through high school, meditating on each card, writing out their meanings, tried a few decks including an old Rider-Waite. All the stuff you’re supposed to do. I tried my hand at the Elder Futhark and Anglo-Saxon Runes; I gave a good try with Ogham as well.

No, I wasn’t lazy and I didn’t expect to be good at them right off the bat. I can honestly say I tried. None of them just really clicked, and none of them ever really drew me in. I was doing it for the sake of doing it, not out of passion, enjoyment, or a real strong interest or connection with the system. The Runes and Ogham were much better than the tarot, and Ogham perhaps my favourite but they just weren’t the right fit.

The way my brain works is a little odd and often more than a little frustrating. The main issue that has caused me such difficulty with the common divination systems is memorization. I am a person who learns best by doing and building, through creation. Memorization by rote is not amongst my stronger skill sets. With most divination systems you must start with memorization by rote, the names, shape and meanings of each piece plus the various layouts and drawing methods.

The main problem is that the other systems are someone else’s systems. They aren’t made for me, and I am not a one-size-fits-all gal. I am a total misfit, even my brain works differently than most people, and that’s diagnosable. So how can a woman who doesn’t think, learn, articulate and express like most people use a system that’s works for most people?

Basically I needed to make my own system. But of course, everything has been done before, so I had to find a system that someone like me created. Or find a system flexible enough for someone like me.

One of my first teachers had a set of semi-precious gemstones he used for divination, based upon their astrological correspondences. I had admired that set but found the system far too left brained and mathematical for my tastes. It also required too much memorization, the kind you do when learning the multiplication tables or something. I remember thinking at the time that there has to be a way to cast stones that was simpler and more intuitive.

I started with a set of stones and used them based upon colour correspondences and gradually added other correspondences as my knowledge of working with stones and crystals grew. This was satisfactory but not quite right. Also as time goes by I find that I am growing less fond of shiny ritual and magickal tools. Ten years ago I wanted a large and impressive shiny dagger for my ritual blade, now I am happy with a small homemade one with a plain wood handle. Many of the stones in the set were getting to shiny for me, too fluffy if I dare say so. The glittery goldstone was starting to annoy me. I tried replacing some of the stones with plainer versions, found stones, beach stones and discovered that they simply don’t cast as nicely. There are reasons why Tiger’s Eye does special things for Chakras and not some random yellow-ish pebble found on the side of the road.

Bone casting caught my eye a few years back but being a Gemini I couldn’t get rid of ALL my shiny rocks just to replace them with ugly old bones. Bone casting is also rather particular to certain traditions and cultures that I do not belong to nor am trained in. I’m not a big fan of cultural appropriation. But maybe, since I have lived on and off farms and such over the years, if a few bones found their way in amongst the stones that would be acceptable? I and my spirits decided it would be. So a few bones were added and few stones removed.

A few sticks from the old Ogham set found their way in when I decided that the stones and bones didn’t always have all the meanings and interpretations I needed. Later I decided I didn’t want anything in the set to be marked, no carvings or painting depicting what is what. So gradually the Ogham marked sticks were replaced with slightly more nondescript sticks.

Along the way other items have been added as well. The story usually goes like this: I decide I need something in the set that signifies something in particular and then stumble upon an item, or the idea for creating an item, that works. I try it out and see if it fits with the other things in the bag. For example, I needed something that would signify “danger, be cautious, playing with fire, taking risks, getting in over you head” … so why not three wooden matches tied together with bright red string?

The collection is always changing and adjusting itself. A Witch needs to be fluid. Many of the original pieces have been replaced. Items bought at a shop replaced by found items, items deliberately gathered for the purpose as well as gifts and so forth. This helps with the memorization issues, each item is known, loved, has a story, we share a history, and they develop little personalities. By this and through this, my spirits can talk to me.

For a long time I had been keeping many of the shiny and colourful stones in the set. Some of them are placed there for energetic or magickal purposes, protection or charging for example. While others had been kept in there for “flash and sizzle” meaning that when doing a casting for others, especially at a group ritual. I’ve found it’s more impressive to have lots of shiny stones in the set, even if they are not even used in the reading at all and merely there for show. However while talking about this with the gals in the book club a little while ago; I decided it was time to do away with that. If people don’t find my bones and twigs and odd bits and pieces impressive enough, that is their problem.

There were also a few new pieces I wanted to introduce to the set and a couple of pieces that need to be retired. I found I needed something to signify “language, communication, speech” and so forth, so I’ve added a molar from the jaw of an animal (which may be a small bison but probably was just a cow). The snail shell I had in there had gotten so beat up it was nearly disintegrated, so I found something else to symbolize “slow down, choose a good pace” and such a small turtle charm carved out of pale rose quartz, “slow and steady wins the race” and all that!

Now and then over the years the whole set has been rededicated and I figured it was time for that this past month. A few pieces were moving in and out, I’m turning thirty this month and it has simply been a while. I have also been having a hard time adjusting to practising in the city and feel that working with my set more often may be a way to kick my ass in gear.

So the pieces no longer to be used were given to the river with thanks and the new pieces introduced to the others. Wooden items were gently sanded and given fresh coats of linseed oil. Everything was pulled out of the bag and then the bag itself, the casting cloth and the bits all placed under the window of my sunroom starting with the peak of the waxing Moon, through the Dark and New Moons right up until the Full Moon. I placed a lock of my own hair in amongst them during this time, to keep the connection to myself strong and because it felt like the right thing to do. Since I adore my hair cutting a lock of it off (even from the nape of my neck) is a small sacrifice. To symbolize the renewal of the set I placed a bud from a lily with the pieces as well.

I should stop here for a second and tell you about the bag and the casting cloth.

The casting cloth I’ve had for some time now, I made it while living in Houston a few years back, it was made to replace a rather boring black piece of broadcloth I was never impressed by. This casting cloth is made of traditional homespun linen, though it is reasonably smooth as I need that sort of surface to cast upon. No I didn’t spin it myself I’m afraid. I hand sewed the hem around its edge and used fabric dye pens to mark out the four directions and the centre upon it. I had considered embroidery for the marking but figured that might influence the rolling and sliding of the bits during casting. Usually I use it right side up with the directions to help with reading the bits, but sometimes I flip it upside down and use it as a “blank slate”.

The first bag was made of rough reddish raw hide and sinew. It had a very Native American look to it, though that hadn’t been intended in its making. It was a little too small, to plain and sometimes bits got caught in its corners. A while back (a year ago, I did blog about it) I made the new bag. With black goat skin and white deer hide, a skull bead so there’s always a spirit house attached to it and a small thin bone bead as well. Purple ribbon as it is my favourite colour and a colour that I equate with spirituality. Since I was rededicating everything this time around, and this was the first re-dedication of the bag itself, I decided to reinforce the seam around the top with red thread. The bag now has a slight stain on one of the white panels, the result of a few drops of oil splatter that got a little smeared and though I do care for the leather it has never come off. It adds character though, makes it look as used as it is. Ritual and magickal tools should look as old as they are, well loved and cared for, but not new.

Back to the re-dedication … I kicked Bren out of the house for a few hours on the night of the Full Moon. I called the ancestors, my spirits and the gods and set to work. I cut my thumb and mixed my blood with a small amount of water in a bowl (actually part of a small mortar and pestle set). I then blessed and charged each item using my various bodily fluids (two kinds of blood if you know what I mean) as I whispered to each item what its name was, the story of how I got it and what it signifies. Then with a smudge stick of sage, juniper and pine, I blew the smoke from the smudge on each item, blessing and charging them with the smoke and with my breath. I said a few words, gathered everything up, gave them a gentle wiping off to get rid of the icky factor, placed them back in the bag and was done.

I have decided to try to do a casting nearly everyday for the next little while and I will try to blog at least once a week about it. So if you are curious about how I cast, decipher, read and what my spirits have to say to me you’ll have to stay tuned.

1) I often have to drag my large, heavy and awkward work gear onto the bus. Whenever the bus is being driven by a man, he “kneels” or lowers the bus to make it easier for me to board and disembark.

Female bus drivers never do this, not ever. Even if I ask them too the response is something along the lines of “Oh you’re fine” or “You’re a strong girl, you can do it” in a rather annoyed or even disgusted tone of voice.

2) Sometimes I drop my large, heavy and awkward work gear. Sometimes I wipe out on my bike. Sometimes I struggle to drag something like my work gear or my bike up steep staircases.

I never ask for help, but if another person is around they will usually respond to my “distress”.

Almost always a man or boy will stop to help me. Women however never help me and will tell me “You’re a strong girl, you can do it” if they acknowledge my presence at all. Actually often they are annoyed that I am taking up space on the sidewalk or taking too long to get up the stairs, I guess they are in a hurry eh?

And they say chivalry is dead.

Stuff like this makes me wonder if I am a bad feminist for wanting or accepting, assistance.

It also makes me wonder why women do not help each other more. Do we feel we have to prove that we are strong girls and can do it? Do we feel the need to force other women to prove they are strong girls too?

3) A fellow whose blog I read related a story of how a few days ago he was walking home from the store. Feeling quite happy and somewhat childlike that day, he hopped, skipped and danced most of his way home. He jumped over a planter or two, and even did a cartwheel.

This fellow is a large and muscular young man, who was wearing shorts and had taken his shirt off as the weather was warm.

After accidentally knocking over a planter that he had jumped over, he was stopped by the police who demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing? His attempts at explaining that he was just having some fun were not enough for the police. He was handcuffed and driven home by the police who told him he needed to cool off, as his behaviour (skipping and jumping) was erratic and potentially dangerous.

I like to hop, skip and jump. I often hop onto park benches, jump over planters on the sidewalk and balance along the edge of retaining walls. I like to do cartwheels. I have accidentally knocked over planters. However, I would never be handcuffed and brought home by the police for such behaviour, for I am a small and cute young woman.

4) The other day I dragged my work gear onto the bus. I had a large and awkward slab of plastic (that unfolds into a table) and my wheel-about full of heavy objects. Along one side of the front of the bus were Moms and their children’s strollers.

Sitting in the courtesy or compassion seats on the other side of the front of the bus were two men. A young man and middle aged man. The courtesy seats are for disabled people, people with strollers and people with large and awkward objects. There are signs all over the place stating as such and telling more able bodied riders to give up these seats if need be. The rest of the bus was about half full.

It was obvious that getting past the strollers with my work gear was going to be very difficult. It was also obvious that I counted as someone who needed the courtesy seating.

I caught the eye of the young man, who was closest to me and asked him if I could please steal his seat? He looked away and pretended he could not hear me.

The middle aged man was looking right at me, so I asked him if I could please have his seat, as I am burdened with heavy objects and don’t want to bash the strollers by accident. He unfocused his eyes and looked right through me, saying nothing.

“Alright then” I said, “If you are going to pretend I don’t exist, I will just have to run over your feet!”

So I did, making sure to press down on their toes with my wheel-about and bashing their shins with it was well as I went past. The young man tried to pretend nothing was happening, perhaps concerned about being “cool”. The middle aged man looked quite shocked and tried to get his sandalled feet out the way … but failed. Neither said anything as I did my best to leave them with some nice bruises for the rest of the day.

Once past them I looked up and glared menacingly at the other passengers on the bus. One man quickly gave up his window seat to me and sat beside someone else. I thanked him kindly.

The men on the bus looked shocked and surprised and a little bit scared of me. I guess being a strong girl is a little bit frightening to some men still.

The women on the bus were all hiding smiles, a few even made eye contact and openly grinned at me. “You go girl!” their smiles said. I guess so long as I prove I’m a strong girl who can do it, I’ll be getting those smiles.

Just a few of the things going on in my life right now:

Working on the 2011 Walking the Hedge calendar and day planner

The Wheel of the Year image for the Northern Hemisphere version

Writing that book I’ll never finish

Getting ready to turn 30 at the end of the month

Hosted the Witch & Stitch Circle at my house

Here's me getting ready (note my feet)

Working on the podcast

Writing the next blog post in the series on feminism and womanhood

Decided it was time to do a little re-vamping and re-dedicating of my Bag of Bones (and stones and sticks and things) I use for divination, also working on writing a blog post about that

Dem bones enjoying a little sunshine

Being a troublesome moderator, over at Bren’s forum

Troubleshooting bugs over at the Hedge

Working in the garden (stay tuned for blog post and pics about that)

Grieving my horse Morgan, who was mauled by a bear (at the family farm) and had to be put down, as well as hoping a beagle named Lacey (also at the family farm) comes home and isn’t lost forever

She was so young and pretty

I hope everything is good in your lives folks!

I’d like to thank everyone who has sent me a blog award in the last month or so. When I first discovered blog awards I though they were fun and cute. Its great to give other’s a pat on the back for their efforts now and then, really!

However, the way they get around, and the sheer amount of them is too much for this lazy witch. As such, I decided to make this blog awards free. Instead, I will link to blogs, podcasts and website (ect) that I think are AWESOME every now and then in dedicated posts. Sans the cute little graphic and the required “Post 5 things about yourself” and without the chain letter-ness.

Maybe I’ll make a point of mentioning a few favourites on the podcast now and then as well … when I feel like it.

*hugs*