Not
I do not know what to do with this old fox hide I have in storage. I suppose I will continue to sit on it for now.
I do not know why for sure, but skulls (even “fake” ones) really do make the best spirit houses, though Bren’s miniature suit of armour does pretty damned well.
I am not interested in validating (or invalidating) other people’s Path, practice or experiences. Even when told something far fetched, I usually just smile and nod and move on. This cuts down on rather a lot of drama.
I am not very good at making pottery or working with clay, wood working, knitting (I can’t knit at all), drumming, leather work, scrapbooking, drawing, quilting, or baking. But I do try my hand at some of these things now and then. There are also plenty of other things I am good at.
I am not out to prove how awesome I am or to show off. If I was, then I wouldn’t make so many blog posts detailing my fuck ups. My podcast segments would be better prepared and much slicker produced as well.
I have not told Bren about the dead turtle’s shell… Continue reading
Birthday Ritual
Haven’t decided yet if I want to write about it, or record my musings and put it on the podcast yet. Any preferences or questions? I never know what people might want to know! Anyways, here’s some pics … click on image for full size
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- Getting set up
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- Ready to get started
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- What the Dude With the Antlers had to say
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- Aftermath
A Few Things That Work (and other things)
Keeping my altar/shrine combo right in the freaking middle of the apartment. It is right in the entranceway, in fact. For no other reason there’s not really any where else to put it. It does however, keep the offerings and attention flowing. Out of sight, out of mind. In sight, on my mind … right?
I’m thinking of moving it into the sunroom in the warm part of the year. Then I can make a fuss about moving it “indoors” for winter each year etc. Who says you can’t have processionals in apartments?
Shelac. Sometimes, you just gotta use it.
My simple knife. It is by far the best tool I own for creation of sacred space and parting the Hedge. It is nothing more than a basic utility knife, handmade, with a wooden handle. The kind that you find at estate sales and flea markets. Something knife makers create for themselves, nothing fancy, just works. It fits in my hand, it’s just the right length. It’s old and worn.
I don’t even know what kind of wood the handle is made of. It’s old and beat up. I got it originally for whittling my stang. It’s now… Continue reading
Unfamiliar Territory
I find myself standing in unfamiliar territory. I have never seen a city on this Side before. Wait … maybe I didn’t go down and am still in Midgard? I feel embarrassed. How did I manage that? I am standing on a sidewalk in what looks like a major eastern city, New York, Toronto, Detroit, Chicago, something like that. I wonder if I ought to just turn back, find my way home.
I wonder if this is just a dream? But it can’t be, it feels like much more. I must have slipped out of my body again, dammit. I am embarrassed again; I really should have better control.
A man walks past me, accompanied by a woman. I overhear their conversation. His wife tries to do too much; the family business is failing as a result. Somehow I know the woman is his sister-in-law, she agrees with him. They worry about money and seem to be very stressed out. I follow them, curious. We enter some kind of diner or small restaurant. It is bustling.
Then I am in the backroom of the diner watching the family argue. The man and his sister-in-law are arguing with… Continue reading
To Be Alone and Useless
One of the biggest parts of my Path and practice has been that of a solitary. By that I don’t mean not being a member of a coven. I mean isolation and loneliness. Feeling cut off or different from everyone else. Not having someone with shared and similar experiences to talk to, let alone practice with.
I do have a few friends here in Ottawa (and other places) who have done some Hedgecrossing. But they have only begun to walk those roads, or have crossed only a handful of times. I have yet to meet another spirit worker, ancestor worshipper, Hedgewalker … like me. I know that they are out there. I see them on documentaries about shamans, I read their books, I read their blogs, and I listen to their podcasts. But face to face conversation, no.
Certainly I’ve met plenty of people who seem to think they know what they are doing. Or who do Hedgecrossing and spirit work. But their Path is still very different. No Tricksters, no dealing with the Dead. Their version of the Stag God is one of grapes and fun and sex. Not raw rutting danger, running blood and rotting flesh.… Continue reading
To Fly By Night
Hoofprints in the Wildwood
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