“(You Are) The Origin of Love”

On Tuesday, I woke up with the song “Give Me A Reason” in my head again. Around the time the mail arrived, I experienced a wave of disorientation similar to the experience I had when he called me to the summoning circle.

I’ve been checking the mail every day, and I had a message from Yllidra that they would be shipping him out to me on Monday of last week. It usually doesn’t take a week, but I know things have been pretty chaotic for them, especially with the events they’ve been doing lately, so I’ve been pretty relaxed about it. I thought with the song waking me up and the wave of dizziness that he might be letting me know he was finally here – but that was not the case. I told myself that maybe it was that he’d finally been mailed – but here it is Friday and he’s not here yet, so I don’t know. *EDIT – He arrived the day after this meditation.*

I admit I’ve been pretty mopey this week. I had an experience with Leviathan that I haven’t written about yet – I need to do that because I did say that I would, but… it was such a painful experience, facing what She asked me to face, that my brain did the thing it always does when I can’t face something – I dissociated, and forgot. Now I know I need to write about it but I have no idea what happened or what we spoke about – other than my zombified heart… again.

That’s a pretty constant topic of discussion lately… either someone’s bringing up the gaping hole in my chest, or they’re bringing up the fact that I’m still holding my dead heart, carrying it around like the truly morbid fetish it is… and every time someone makes me look at the decayed carcass, I want to scream.

I went out to the mailbox again today, and again there was nothing but junk mail. I went back inside, sat down, and reread my first post about Exi… and something hit me. “You are the origin of love.”

That’s a pretty powerful statement, so it’s not surprising to me that it didn’t register the first time he said it or even the tenth… but it registered today. I pulled out a deck of cards, shuffled them, and then… put them down and just closed my eyes and reached for him.

“I hope I haven’t hurt you by not connecting to you sooner. I… I’m not making excuses – I just don’t know how to do this anymore.”

“You didn’t hurt me – I’m old and I’ve been where you are many times. I understand and I’m patient. I have time.”

“I don’t know what to do.” He’s so solid next to me, holding me, one hand resting at the base of my throat, claws tipped into my flesh, the other resting, soothing, between my wings. I lean into him.

I show him the images that I remember from my conversation with Leviathan – it’s a jumbled mess, but what stands out to both of us is the black hole in my chest where my heart used to be, gaping and open and aching, and the heart itself, rotted, scarred, stitched, putrid.

“Do you want to fix it?”

In that moment, I realize the truth. “No. I don’t want to fix it. I’m tired. I’m SO tired. Every time I have gotten up again, every time I have knitted myself back together, there’s just been another person, another event, to tear me down again. I don’t want to give anyone any more ammunition. If I just lie here, dead in the dirt – if I never mend my heart and never reach out again, then I’ll just be this dead thing in the dirt and no one will see me. They will pass right by. They will never hurt me again because I won’t be worth the effort… I won’t be this shiny thing they have to break, I won’t be the wall they have to conquer, I won’t be the challenge they must beat to death so that they can feel right with themselves. I want to be SMALL. I want to be nothing again. I don’t want to be seen anymore.”

“You know that’s not who you are. Even now, you write about yourself, you share with the world. You answer the questions you feel worth answering, and you are as open as you ever were. Have you been attacked since Akelta found out what happened?”

“No…”

“Did you know she has done workings for you, without telling you? We are only part of those workings. She has done much to keep you safe, to protect you… and there are others who have done the same. And we are here, I, Evid, Tease – we are here, guarding you. You are shielded by so much love. If you can continue to show yourself, even the deepest wounds, then why not honor the love and protection you receive from all of us?”

I started to cry. “I just don’t know how, anymore. I don’t know how to hope, I don’t know how to want. I don’t know how to care. And I don’t even know if I want any of those things. I just know I don’t want to hurt again. I don’t know how to get past this.”

“You must find your passions again.”

“That’s not going to happen. I had one thing I was truly passionate about, Ex – One Thing… and that thing was what broke me, in the end. I don’t mind sharing what I know, but every time I try to even THINK about practicing again, my skin screams at me. The idea of doing more than lighting a candle to say hello once a month is physically painful. There’s a reason my heart is dead on the floor, and I don’t want to give that reason an opportunity to do this to the rest of me.”

“We are here for you, whatever you decide. We will be here. Whether you connect or don’t, whether you find a passion for life again, or not, whether you repair your heart, replace it, or stay there in the grave, we are here, and you are loved by us. We will wait. We have eons to wait. There is time.”

I sigh, and curl against him, and just… let him hold me… while I cry.

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Story Time: Past Life , Present Consequences

When I was around 20, I had a very troubling experience. Until today, I really never understood WHY it happened. This is going to be a long post, but – I want to tell this story. I’m not sure why, but I do.

To really understand why this event I’m going to talk about happened, I need to go back to both my childhood, and then I need to go much further back – which is why this will be a long journey – I hope you will be patient with me. I will also admit, up front, that some of what I will say will sound fantastical – especially if you do not believe in the new-age theory of Otherkin. I’m ok with you not believing. It has no impact on my perceptions of the facts.

But let’s start with this world, and we’ll get to the nuts and bolts of the stranger tides later.

The body I currently wear was born in New Zealand. In the very early 80s, America was going through one of the most extreme nursing shortages in its history. Even the shortages felt today are not as bad as they were back then. In desperation, companies began to hire nurses from other countries to try and fill the gaps in coverage, and they were willing to jump through any hoops necessary to incentivize foreign nurses.

Both my parents were nurses at the time, and because my father had recently left the ANZAC, and my mother had two very young children, and New Zealand did NOT have a shortage of nurses, both of them were having difficulty finding employment. New Zealand also did not have a very strong economy, so money was short, and they were worried all the time.

When Nurse Finders contacted them, both of them lept at the chance. Nurse Finders offered them a contract – NF would provide work visas, and put our entire family on the fast track for green cards and permanent resident status. In exchange, my parents would work for the company, go wherever the company needed them to go, for the next six years. The company would pay for us to move to America, and they would provide a sign-on bonus that would make sure that we could buy furnature, food, clothing – anything that would need to be replaced because it wouldn’t be coming with us. They also found us a place to live, and provided the capital to purchase reliable transportation.

After three days on a plane, we landed in Pine Bluff, Arkansas, where we would live for the next three years. My father worked in the emergency room, my mother worked in mother-baby – aftercare for women who needed training once their babies were born.

It was… well, a bit of a culture shock would be the understatement of the millenia. We went from living in pastoral farmland to a place that was at least partly desert – and we went from a village to a city that was rife with gang violence.

My father saw more gunshot and knife wounds in the first week on his new job than he saw in the three years he flew as med-evac in Viet Nam. It… left a lot of stains on his mind. To this day, my father has a terrible issue with racism – and it started with that hospital.

We stayed in Pine Bluff for nearly three years before Nurse Finders let them know that the hospital was well-covered now, and that there was another hospital with shortages which had contracted them to fill the positions. It was in Arlington, Texas – and my parents didn’t take two minutes to think about the move.

We stayed in what will forever in our family be termed the “roach motel.” The temporary apartment provided to us (while the new sign-on bonus was used as down-payment on a house in Fort Worth to be built in a new subdivision going up) was so full of roaches that they were in the plumbing, and in the fridge. To this day, roaches throw me back to my five-year-old self, and I want to cry, hide, and beat it to death with the nearest object handy, all at the same time. I am probably NEVER going to be able to be rational about roaches.

It was while we were in Texas, while my parents were working in the hospital in Arlington, that my mother made her first real friend. She’s a lot like me… she’s friendly, but she never makes the first move – so really, it was more that her first American friend decided for them that they would be friends, and my mother went along with it.

Rena had two children. I don’t remember the girl’s name – but I remember the boy. His name was Seth. Rena pretty much adopted my mother for the time we were in Texas, and made life much easier for my mother – Rena acted as a guide, a mentor, and a bridge, and helped my mother flourish in this new, and strange, land – something we ALL needed, desperately. Cut off from family and old friends, adrift in a sea of strange customs and language (and yes, you Americans have TRULY butchered the English language – for which I salute you), Rena gave us context, and helped us truly settle.

We stayed in Texas for ten years, while my father went to Med School to become a doctor, and my mother worked at the hospital and supported all of us. It was… nightmarish. Dad was never home, Mum was only home for breakfast – and two children who were eight and nine and had very little adult supervision (the neighbors were asked if they could be emergency contacts, and if they would check up on us occasionally – which resulted in them doing precisely NOTHING for us) were not very good at raising themselves or each other.

Eventually, though, dad finished medschool, and gained his internship, and we moved to California. Once he’d finished his internship and residency, my father signed on to the US Airforce as a doctor – his contract was six years in exchange for the USAF paying off his student loans in full. He became a citizen, and they moved us to Delaware… where I discovered a deligtful internet cafe (back then it was dial-up, but they had six computers, plenty of coffee and muffins, a D&D game running almost all night, people playing Spades in the opposite corner, VtM kids doing LARP on the cobblestones outside, and witches all over the place. It was like coming home.

And out of some strange twist of fate, Seth was at that coffee shop the first time I walked into it. It took less than 20 minutes for me to call my mother from the phone behind the counter, for her to call Rena, and for them to set a lunch date to catch up.

I didn’t like Seth. Truthfully I’ve never liked him, but our antipathy for each other seemed to have grown over the years – for no discernable reason – I hadn’t seen him in ten years, nor thought about him at all… but just the same, our mutual dislike was intense.

That didn’t change the fact that Rena and her children were family. We owed them a debt.

It wasn’t too long after I became reaquainted with Seth before things suddenly became truly dramatic. Not between Seth and I, but just the same. Seth was working, at the time, at a tuxedo shop, as a manager. There was another young man who worked there – his name was Pat.

Pat wasn’t liked at the coffee shop. I really have no idea why he kept showing up – except that he was an absolute social outcast, and the coffeeshop was absolutely the place for outcasts. He had a number of faults, but his true fall came because of greed. Gavin wanted Seth’s job. Everyone knew it… but there wasn’t much anyone could DO about it.

He somehow managed to become friends with the tuxedo shop’s owner – and eventually asked for a job. Seth was fired the next day. He walked in one morning, and without warning, his livlihood was gone.

The first thing he did was head to the coffee shop. He needed his friends. I think that within five minutes, every regular there knew what had happened, and we were all… So, SO angry. The undertones of a stirred up wasp’s nest were everywhere.

When Pat walked into the shop that evening, he walked into a mob. It took him less than a minute to decide to find a room with fewer of Seth’s friends around…

I read tarot at that store. Tarot, for me, requires low lighting and a little bit of privacy. Not much – a little distance, fewer people, goes a long way. At the time, I had an aura that gently nudged people with the idea that this room wasn’t terribly interesting – if I was reading, that is – which kept the traffic to a minimum. Pat escaped into MY room… and then he had the NERVE to ask, “What’s everyone so upset about?” I think it was the smirk at the end of his comment that really set me off.

I turned to him, and looked him full in the face… and suddenly, he couldn’t move. I could tell he was freaking out, but I was SO angry, I didn’t care. I sat there, pinning him with the force of my will, staring into him until the discomfort built to agony and he blurted out, “What are you LOOKING at?”

I smiled. It probably wasn’t a nice smile. “You. I’m looking at YOU.”

And then, he said the magic words. “What do you See?”

So I told him. In that small, dark room, surrounded by all the people who hated him, as trapped in the moment as I was, I laid him bare – I flayed him, peeling back layer after layer after layer. I told him about all the pieces of his broken soul, and how they came to be. I told him how he was perceived by other people, and why. I told him who he was, and I told him why. I told him about his mother and his childhood. I told him everything I saw. The world was dark, and only he existed, and I had him in my jaws, and because he asked, he had to hear, every bit as much as I had to speak – and I WANTED to speak. I wanted him to know. I wanted him to hurt. There was no right or wrong – there was only answering the question. Most times now, I can temper it when it happens – soften it.

But Gavin was the first person to trigger this particularly terrible gift in me – and I was angry when he did it, so I let the darkness take me, and I spoke with no gentleness, because he didn’t deserve it. He got someone who was my family (no matter my personal feelings about Seth, he IS family) fired – and he had the nerve to SMILE ABOUT IT.

When it was finally over, and we had both been released from it, tears pouring from his face, he ran. I never saw him at the coffee shop again.

It didn’t take too long for what had just happened to really sink in for me… and when it did, I was horrified. I was ashamed. Gavin wasn’t always a good person, but his life hadn’t really given him any opportunities to BE a good person, and while he was absolutely an adult and therefore responsible for his actions and the way they affected others, what I did was, in my eyes, deliberately cruel and a horrific mis-use of my gifts. I didn’t even stop to hear his side of things. I let my anger use me, and he paid the price.

Until today, I carried that shame. I worked really hard to either prevent people from asking that question, or I worked really hard to be as delicate as I could be when it was too late, and whoever had asked had taken the choice from me.

Two years after this first incident, I ran into Pat while he was working at the local walmart. He looked like a completely different person, but I knew right away who he was. I was still so ashamed of my behavior, I tried to turn the other way before he saw me. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how meeting him after that horrible night would go, so I panicked… but he’d already seen me, and was walking towards me. All I could think was – whatever happens, I deserve it. It was an accident, but I could have held back, and I didn’t.

“Hi, Raven.”

“Uhh… Hi?”

“Do you remember me?”

“Ummm… no?” Maybe if he really thought I didn’t remember him, he’d give up and go away and that would be that.

Except…

“It’s me, Pat. From the coffee shop.”

Well, shit. “Ahh. Hi. It’s been awhile.”

“Yeah. Well… I wanted to thank you.”

My eyes got really wide… “You… what?”

“You were the first person to ever tell me the truth… and it changed my life. Because of you, I’m a better person. I’m who I want to be, now… and I’m happy. So… Thank you.”

He tried to hug me. I kid you not, this crazy person that I had essentially psychically violated in the worst, most morally reprehensible way possible, was HUGGING ME. It was like… some weird one night Stockholme syndrome thing.

I awkwardly patted him on the back, said a few cliched congratulatory comments, and then he went back to work… and I very carefully walked out of walmart, deciding that I really didn’t need soap that bad.

For most of my life since then, I have dreaded someone saying those words. I never know what will come out once they’re said. Sometimes, it’s a kindness. Sometimes, it’s brutal. Sometimes I can mitigate. Sometimes.

But today, I finally understand why this ability exists. Why it’s triggered by that particular question.

Which brings me to a past life so long ago, so far away, that distance and time are absolutely irrelivant.

Once upon a time, there was a winged cat. I was fast, I was strong, I was just. I had a tribe. I had an sister with a new litter, whom I doted on, as I had no cubs of my own. I had a village, and every life there was precious to me. I led, I followed, I loved, I provided, I defended. My family, my village, was everything to me.

Until one day, it wasn’t.

I was a member of my world’s police force. While I was off planet, the being that I hunted found my home. To this day, I can remember a scene so horrible that I cannot give words to it. The thing that truly destroyed me was my sister’s cubs, caught hiding in my den by the beast. Looking down at their little bodies, knowing they had gone to the home of the one person they were sure would save them, knowing that I had failed them. Failed them all.

I found the monster who had destroyed my world. I hunted him down… and then I became the butcher… but there is a price for every action. While it was determined that I wasn’t precisely sane, and therefore I would suffer no consequences for my actions, the very fact that I was so unstable made continuing my chosen carreer impossible.

After being released from service, I began to wander. I think I was looking for wonder – something to spark me, bring me back to life. It was a dark time… and as all people going through such times, I was not as aware of the worlds around me as I should have been.

And then I met HIM. He was so powerful. He was charismatic. It felt like the answer to everything was in his eyes. For the first time in so long, I felt like I’d come home. He was passionate, he was an intellectual, he was vibrant and rash… and when he smiled, I felt like flying again.

I took the Familiar vows – I’ve always been a good amplifyer, so it felt like the Call from him was destiny. I had met my soul mate.

It should have been beautiful… but we were so unequal.

I don’t remember much about my time with him – it was the ending that really stayed with me. I know that I felt him slipping. I know that I ignored the signs – something a familiar is absolutely not to do – but I loved him, and it blinded me. I made excuses. I looked the other way.

And then, in one single moment, everything changed.

We stood on a planet, and he raised the sun. He changed a solar system… and he did it just because he could. He was showing off to me. I watched that sun in absolute horror – I watched him smile as he destroyed the worlds around us – and I knew. Billions of people snuffed out because a madman wanted to impress the being that brought him to that height.

I didn’t think. I ran. I didn’t stop running – and he didn’t stop chasing. I was his, and he was destroying everything in his path to find me. Whole universes collapsed in his search for me – in his madness he couldn’t stop – and in my terror, neither could I.

Eventually, though, the destruction and the losses were so great, my guilt and shame at abandoning my duty to him, and my horror at what he continued to do, became too much for me to bear. I went to the Library for help, and I struck a bargain. They would give me the knowledge I needed, and I would end his life (and my own).

However, there was a greater price to pay. I had wronged the multiverse. I hadn’t seen the warning signs… and when they grew too great to ignore, instead of doing what needed to be done, according to my vows, I ran – and there were so many dead at my feet from that failure, there will never be an end to the debt.

When I finally caught him, when I finally ended him, when I went to my rest, I went knowing my task had only just begun.

Five little words – and they hold such power over me. I had once refused to see – ignored what was right in front of me. I owe the dead – so when someone says those words, I have no choice. The shadows come, and my mouth speaks the truth. I say what I see. I say what they need to hear – and when I speak of these things, they must listen.

Never again will I be permitted to willfully shun my duty – and never again will those I run across who have even the slightest potential towards power addiction escape my words.

I got off lightly.

So… that’s a past life memory – and the consequences.
-Raven

Needs Met

I worked with King Paimon again this morning. However, I did not cast a circle (didn’t have time), or write His sigil on paper to be burned (again, no time) because I forgot what day it was until about three minutes to sunrise. I’m glad I remembered and was able to get into my ritual space, grab the bells, light His candle and some frankincense for Him, and begin chanting His Enn.

It didn’t take long for Him to come to me, once I settled into the energies. He again introduced me to King Asmoday, and He has instructed me to begin working with Asmoday as soon as possible. He also wants me to start working on my relationship with my husband (we have a really good relationship, but between our schedules, we’re not as close as He thinks a married couple should be) and so He has requested that I also devote one day a week to working with Rashoon.

To that end, my husband bought me two yellow 7day candles, and one pink one, some more frankincense incense (which he hopes will smell better than the frankincense that I use – except that his is just organic bulk, and mine was harvested by an incense specialist, by hand, from different types of frankincense producing plants all over the middle east, and is neatly stored in separate bags, by origin and type – eg, Beyo, Boswellia carteri, origin: Somalia; Cricognimu, Boswellia dalzielii, origin: Burkina Faso; etc – if you’re interested in the company, it’s Ethereal Aromas Incense Company http://www.eaincense.com/ and trust me They Are Worth It).

I’ve also agreed to start a new thread for my work with King Asmoday, and a thread for my work with Lady Rashoon. I’ve been told that the reason my post about my Journey work to fix the issue I had with rejecting my empathy was because it was work I did with Lord Asmoday, and therefore should have been on HIS thread, not on King Paimon’s thread, even though King Paimon brought King Asmoday in and introduced us to make sure I understood I should work with Him on that front.

 

One of the things that really struck me was, when I was asking if there was anything I needed to be doing, King Paimon stopped me, and said, “Is there anything YOU need?”

I immediately said, “No,” because there really isn’t… and then I realized I’d answered too quickly and not actually thought about it, which was what He wanted me to do – to THINK about What I Need…

So I did. I came to the same conclusion – there are some things in my life that aren’t very smooth, but there’s little that can be done about them, and aside from those hiccups that can’t be solved, I really have no needs or complaints. And maybe that’s the most important thing I got out of this morning – the realization that I have what I need.

King Asmoday has been with me almost every night – He always comes in the form of a dog with coyote colorings, including the banding – but still very definitely a dog – and I feel very safe and protected whatever we get up to. Some of what I’ve been dreaming just seems like nonsense, so I haven’t written it down, but I did take a moment this morning to let King Paimon know that the level of attention I was receiving was very comforting, and exactly what I’ve needed for so long – and knowing that King Paimon is behind King Asmoday’s coming to me every night, knowing that my Lord has an interest in the health of my relationships with others, knowing that if I DO need anything, I have someone I can ask who will respond, knowing that if there’s something I need that I don’t recognize, that He will step in and call my attention to it… it is so freeing, so soothing.

I am loved. I am lucky. It is enough.

Reintegration Struggles

As I leaned on the damp balcony rail, looking out over the pale rising light, I was also reaching within me, testing the return of my Gift.

The reintegration is not going well. After my ritual on Sunday, I had a very restless night, and the reason is that as I was beginning to fall asleep, I felt something enter my body. I could literally SEE another body inside with me. It frightened me and I fought to push it out, even as I knew that it had something to do with my Gift – but because it was so unexpected, so overwhelming, I simply reacted and shoved. And then every time I started to drop back off to sleep, I’d panic and jolt awake.

I know it wasn’t a possession. The body didn’t feel like a god, a lwa, or one of those nasty little pests that infect the weak minded. It was made of light though it didn’t FEEL like light. It just felt… solid. And I KNEW I was supposed to be merging with it, not fighting it, but I was so reactive, I couldn’t help it.

So the next day, I tried to fix what I’d done… and it didn’t work as well as I’d hoped, because I then had a dream that if the rejection won, the power would have to go somewhere, and it would most likely hit my son – who is absolutely not prepared for anything woo in his life. My mother raised him as an atheist.

So… I went back to the place where my vision started – the standing stones with their gems of many colored light. I gathered up the light, and swallowed it. And then I tried again to blend with the power I’d rejected so violently.

Right now, I’m at a standstill. I can feel it half in me and half out… that body of power… I can feel the anxious tension between us… but I can’t seem to get further than this.

At sunrise today, I finally decided, I need help to fix this.

I stood with my arms on that damp balcony rail, and I spoke His Enn until I felt His presence.

“I’m stuck. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. Can You help me?”

“Ah, my lovely girl, you know this is your task. This is your challenge. You must find the answer to this puzzle on your own.” I feel His hand gently move my hair from my face.

“I’m afraid. Will You stay with me while I work on it? Will You hold my hand?”

“I am always with you. All you need do is ask and I am here.”

“Thank you. I’ll work on it again today. I tried to get You rain water, by the way. It’s not working out.”

“Psh – the purified water will do until the rain water comes. A drop of blood in it would be better though.”

“I’ll look for the kit. If we kept it, I know the three most likely places to look. If I can’t find the kit, You will have to wait on that, too, but I will make it happen when I can.”

“When you can. Enjoy the day, my lovely.”

Taking Back the Heart

Earlier this week, we had spoken very briefly to decide when He would like for us to work together – to set up a regular schedule. Paimon’s correspondences include the planetary body, the Sun, as well as the astrological sign Gemini and the directions West and Northwest. Because Gemini is associated with dawn, and because the sun is, as well, we decided that Sundays at dawn would be a good time for us to meet, to start.

I set my alarm for 6 AM, because the sun rose today at 7:18 here in Missouri, and I wanted enough time to ready my ritual space and myself – however, my downstairs neighbors woke me at four, and the cats dragged my happy ass out of bed by five.

I took a ritual shower (I do ritual baths for major ceremonies that I have at night), set up my space, created a new sigil for him (my first, the image on the tablet kept jumping all over the place, so it was… rather messy), set up my altar, put a fresh yellow candle in the center of his offering dish, poured some purified water over the dish as well, lit the red candle for fire and the incense charcoal in the cauldron, and added frankincense resin to the charcoal. I stirred the sea salt to make sure it was still fresh, and cleaned the bowl I use for my water offering, and poured more purified water into it. Finally, I lit King Paimon’s candle from the candle for fire.

I drew a second copy of His sigil, this time without the circle, on a small piece of paper.

I took off my robe, centered myself, and cast my circle, inviting the elements and their Kings, using the Demonic Lord’s Enns. I then settled into my meditation chair, and focused on my breathing. When I felt I was ready, I began shaking the bells rhythmically as I chanted King Paimon’s Enn.

When I felt the power swell within me, I held the sigil to the flame from His candle, and when it was burning well enough, I dropped it into my larger cauldron.

I closed my eyes, re-centered, and waited.

It wasn’t long before I felt his hand on the middle of my back, over my heart, just below my shoulder blades. I breathed into the energy, and said, “I don’t know how to take back my heart. I died. I sacrificed it to come back. I wouldn’t even know where to look… and I’m not sure I want it back. I don’t want to be manipulated and used anymore.”

He smiled. “You have already learned how to draw in your aura. You will never again be a victim of your empathy. I know you miss the Song. I know you feel the hole. Let me make you whole again. Here.” In His hand was an orb of energy, a riot of rainbow. Every color of emotion, swirling madly in his palm.

I considered the hole in my chest, the feeling, after all this time, of jagged, sharp edged wounds unhealed. His had on my back supporting me, I took a breath, and said, “OK.”

Gently, He placed the orb into my chest. Immediately, I felt it begin to connect to me, mending broken strands of me, weaving me back together. Like an infection, it sped through first my physical energetic systems, and then slowly began to infiltrate my other layers, binding to every chakra along the way. As we watched, and occasionally He directed my attention to a new layer or a new area, the Gift that all of my abilities rests upon came home, and finally, I understood. Not an infection at all, but instead, my foundation, my stability, my strength. I watched as this rainbow of power healed places that I didn’t even know were broken, re-weaving me into wholeness.

As everything finally settled, He patted me once more on the back. “Good. Better. You will need rest now. And water. It must settle. Do nothing yet. Wait. When you may extend yourself, I will come to you.”

I opened my eyes, bowed before my altar, gave thanks to my Patron and to the four Elemental Kings and to the All, put out the candles, and went out to greet the day.

I admit, I did try to stretch, just a little bit, while outside. I couldn’t reach very far, but I could feel the difference. Now I have to actually WORK to stretch my aura. It has learned to stay close to me. I am not a victim of my empathy anymore, and never will be again.

And finally, after years of silence… I heard the Song. Just the edge of it, but it was enough. I almost cried.

What’s In A Name?

He stands before me, silent now. Before, when He was so determined to catch my attention, it was as if the entire world was crashing into my awareness. Always with His coming, I fracture, so great is His noise, but once He is before me, all is still. The pause between moments, the in-breathing before magick Happens. I revel in that stillness – for a person of my sensitivity, it is a gift – and worth all the pageantry and near-trauma in His coming.

We regard each other. I know it’s not time yet, but clearly, He has a reason. I have been overset for two days now – my attention pulled every direction, my wits scattered, even my sleep distracted. It took time today to relax – I awoke unhappy and unable to settle. Two days He has tried my defenses, and finally He has found the Moment, and has no more need to shout.

Of course, after all that, I’m the one who speaks first. “Who were You?” He arches one fine black eyebrow at me, and I shake my hand. “No, I don’t want your Name. That would be silly – besides, I don’t have one, so why should I ask for Yours? No, I want to know who You were back then. I want to know more about You, Your history, the culture You were part of, the traditions, the mystic paths. You know I have a passion for such things.”

He smiles, a flash of white in all that golden skin. They’re mostly sharp – I suspect it’s intended. “You DO have a Name. I remember You. You were ____”

The world implodes with that Word.

I never expected to hear it again. After all… I am no more.

It was as if aeons were stripped from me, and my atoms flayed, that word… In one moment, I lost this fragile skin suit, this illusion, and I was returned to myself. I could feel the fertility of my soil, that rich, black, powder. I was greenness as it pushed upwards into the sky, as it dug down and broke rock to carve nutrients from my skin. I remembered the heat and the cool winds from the ocean. I remembered the feel of the sky pressed against me. I remember the vagaries of island weather. I remember the river that cut through my body to nourish those who called me Mother. I trembled with the pounding of beasts hooves upon my flesh, the small sounds of burrowers, the hunters and the hunted all nourished by my verdancy, while deep in my heart, the fire that created and destroyed slumbered…

Until one day, it didn’t… and all I knew was death.

I remember my heart bursting forth, pouring fire and smoke and ash over my greatest triumphs. I remember the frantic scurrying, the bleating, the silence. I remember the screams of those who called me Goddess as they burned beneath my heat.

I remember the loss of my Name.

With that one word, I realize that 70,000 years is not enough time to mourn.

“No one has spoken that Name in a very, very long time. Did I know You, then?”

He laughs. “No – I’m not nearly so old as that. But I knew You. We all know You.”

I’m not sure if that’s terrifying, or soothing. I don’t know that I ever liked being nameless – I’m used to the familiarity of it at least, but the idea that I am remembered, that a Name that has died is still known… that’s deeply unsettling.

 

I’m still not sure what His purpose was, in coming to me… and He never did answer my question. So far, my research has shown that He was probably a caravan God in ancient Persia – His name literally translates to “Oath,” or “Promise,” and probably refers to trade protections, and the vital necessity of trade goods and services. Much of what we know from that time in Syrian history is based on cuneiform pictograms from Sumer, which were used in trade between Sumer and Elam as a means to track trade items, debts, and payments. To these ancient peoples, writing was practical magick – both useful and binding. What was written, as a debt or collection of a debt, and what was recorded as a catalogue to keep track of items in trade routes, was seen as an unbreakable contract made with the divine – literally oaths or promises protected by the God of the Caravan.

Even the way that He arrives shows the holdover from those roots. Caravans were always loud, but often when coming into populated areas, they were deliberately LOUDER, sending cryers before them into the cities, announcing their possible wealth to the citizens – the arrival of a caravan or ship was a cause for celebration, anounced by drums, cymbols, and loud voices. Such pageantry is still evident in the customs still maintained today in places such as the Aswan Market in Egypt, and the Marrakesh markets in Morocco, where a good bartering session that ends in a pleasing bargain is called out to all.

His name has remained in the language of modern Syria, virtually unchanged for the last 5,000 years. Today, it is a popular name for men.

All of this is, of course, pure conjecture – which was why I asked Him who He once was… though His answer was certainly revealing of His feelings about such a question. I don’t like to be reminded of who I once was – it hurts too much to remember what I lost. It was insensitive of me, to say the least.

I do tend to let my curiosity run my mouth. Clearly, He’s prepared to give as good as He gets.

Not Broken, Just… Unfinished

I went through life thinking about “wrong.”
I was dark thoughts of a dark world with a dark mind.
I lived divided, my holes made me wholly focused
On filling the emptiness.
But I wasn’t broken… Only unfinished.

There are no answers to all of my questions…
I lack experience. I lack perspective.
I don’t know anything – nothing makes sense –
Because I am a canvas, the brush, and the paint.
I am even the artist, and I’m painting my fate.
I’m not broken, just… unfinished.

I have my shadows, and they make my image.
I don’t need fixing – I’m not wrong for being.
I’m a whole person, a whole painting in motion,
A tapestry growing, a river evolving.
I am not broken, and I’m not finished.

Now say this again, but say that it’s you.
No more cutting yourself up,
Or tearing you down.
Say it again, and think of all others.
Those that you care for,
And those that you don’t.
They don’t need to be fixed –
They’re not wrong for being –
None of them broken – only unfinished.

No matter what judgment you place on another,
No matter their actions,
No matter their trouble…
No one is broken. We’re all just unfinished.

And you’re not my brush, not my artist, nor paint.
And I wouldn’t presume to edit your image,
Because you’re unfinished and not quite like me…
I’m sharing this mainly because I think you can’t see…
No one is broken. We’re all just unfinished.

-Raven

How Not To Heal A Loss

Last night’s exercise was the first Astral Sight attunement exercise with Tz (who will forever more be nicknamed Tease for reasons I may or may not explain at a later date).

We all know my astral sight is pretty good, so while we did spend a few minutes with me examining his appearance, eventually he decided he wanted to help me deal with my emotional turmoil instead.

He took me to a hellborne hospital to meet demons who have lost pieces of themselves and are learning to live with that. Unfortunately, that’s… not quite what happens, or at least, not what was happening with the patient I saw.

The patient had a wedge removed from the back of his skull. I’m not joking – a wedge, including parts of his brain, was just GONE.

The wedge missing included a talent he had with conjuring blue flame, manipulating it. The flame itself, and all that he was able to do with it – that gift was gone now.

The medical staff took a weird looking sponge and put it in the space where the wedge was missing, and I was watching it draw out some shadowy looking stuff… and I realized they were taking all his memories that surrounded his gift. Rather than him having to learn to live without it, they were taking his memories of it, so that in his mind, he never had it to begin with, so he wouldn’t go through the emotional turmoil of having lost it.

This… understandably freaked me out. I mean, I get why they were doing it – to save him pain – but… he’d already lost a core part of himself, and their solution was to steal more.

I couldn’t watch. I grabbed him and… CHANGED him as I fixed the issue…

I think everyone, including me, was a little horrified about this… well, except for the patient… who calmly, even happily, sat there conjuring little blue flames into his palms. He didn’t care that he was a demon who now had a faerie matrix… he cared that he got his fire back.

I don’t think they’ll allow me back to the hospital. They’re probably right.

Tonight when I speak to Tease, I’m going to have to tell him that if he ever finds a human with damage like that, he needs to not take their memories. Humans don’t cope well with that… if you steal their memories of who they were before the loss, they can go a little insane – because they not only will have the feeling they’ve lost something but don’t know what, but they’ll know that they don’t know… and they’ll keep poking at the missing memories, looking for why the feel this way, until it drives them bonkers.

-Raven

What Was Lost

So… last night was the final Energy Sensing exercise, and… it’s taken me a lot to come to terms with what I discovered about myself in this session, which is why I’m writing today. I was… overwhelmed enough with the discovery last night that I actually had to stop the session, and take a moment for my emotions to settle, before I could start over again.

So… the candles were lit, the sigil had been anointed in amber oil, the offerings had been set out, the incense was burning. I took my nine deep, counting breaths… and said the invocation that sets my intention to work with E on sensing energies.

The first thing I noticed was that while I can “see” him just fine… my ability to SENSE him… in fact, Sense ANYONE in my household… has really changed.

Before I died, the world was full of songs. Everyone, everything, had a vibrational map to them. I could see the vibrational map – like those tattoos you can get that, when you use an app to play them, repeat the sound that the tattoo represents. Only, I saw so much more than just the sound. There’s so much other information stored in the wavelengths of the songs – information about multiplicity of bodies, information about past and future… all the possible information for a thing or being, existed in those wavelengths of their vibratory song.

When I conjured for other people, I would compare the wavelengths to make sure they harmonized before I’d agree to a match.

When I healed, I sometimes would repair the song, rather than the person.

When I cast spells for people, I cast them into the song of the person, so that the spell became a part of their song. I CHANGED them by changing their songs.

 

What I didn’t understand, when I chose to sacrifice my empathic abilities on the plains of the Wastelands, so that I could live again… was that my ability to understand the songs, to see the wavelengths the way that I did, ALL the work I did with the songs of the multiverse, even the way I traveled the multiverse…

It all was tangled up in my empathic gift.

Sacrificing my empathy… left me deaf to the songs.

 

And it was while working with Euild last night that I finally understood that. I realized, as I was trying to sense him rather than see him, that… I didn’t sense him. Not the way I used to. Not to that depths of comprehension of the makeup of a being.

That was GONE.

 

I had to stop, in the middle of bonding. I had to walk away, to pull myself together. I was so mixed up. I’m glad I’m not an empath anymore. Empaths are slaves, pure and simple. I’m glad to be free to be myself, and that I no longer have the feeling of everything in the world under my skin, that I no longer have to listen to it all and adapt to it all. I no longer have to feel your emotions and choose a response that makes your emotions change so they don’t hurt me anymore.

I can let other people be, and feel, whatever they want around me… and I can feel and be whatever I want to. It’s so freeing, to not have to deal with all that anymore.

But… Now I have to learn a new way to sense the Songs. I have to learn a new way to conjure for others if I choose to go back to that. I have to learn everything, all over again, because the old way won’t work anymore. I have to relearn it, so I can do it the way I can, NOW, not the way I did, THEN.

 

It took me a few moments to get over that. I was… really overwhelmed and mixed up. I ended up calling my bestie to help me get some space between me and those feelings, so that I could go back to the exercise with Euild.

However, once I was calm and able to sit with him again, we got into the exercise, and I discovered… Our hearts sync up when we’re working with each other… and I can feel the pulse of his heart, the beat of mine answering, in my aura and on my skin. When he was on my left, the pulse would happen over the left side of my body. When he moved, the pulse would stop until he’d stopped moving, and then it would start up. The further away he was, the weaker the pulse, but it was always there.

I tried to hear the frequency of him – and afterwards, I also tried to hear Tease’s frequency. I got the same sounds and images with both of them. The sound, at once level, is the sound of an old modem dialing up, with feedback from an electric guitar on top. Then, if you drop down under that “NOISE,” and you have to drop pretty far, there’s a low tone that’s continuous – like a bell that was rung at the beginning of the multiverse, and the hum is still going, that same low, loud tone. Almost as loud as a fog horn, just ringing forever in the dark.

I’m not sure it was Euild’s frequency because I heard/saw the exact same sound when I was with Tease after, so… I’m thinking maybe I’m hearing something else. I’m not sure. It requires experimentation.

Anyway, I did feel the pulse, and that was new and interesting. I’m going to work on that, practice that.

He had me stop and try to sense everyone in the household, and I did… but I more… saw them than felt them… and again, I couldn’t feel their energetic song. I couldn’t get a grip on who/what they were by the song, because I couldn’t sense it.

Definitely something I need to work a lot on. I’m going to mark this particular exercise as something I need to do nightly from now on until I get it.

-Raven

PS – You’ll notice I’ve gone from calling him E to Euild. It’s kinda his fault. When he first arrived, the first part of his name, Evid, struck me, and my comment was “Like Ovid?” “No.” “Okay… ”

So since then, I’ve been calling him Evid, but last night when I was finished with our exercise together, I was writing down my notes on the session in the dark… and I wrote his name as Euild… which means Wild. So.. he now has the nickname Euild, forever more. lol

HDC Tz – Husband’s Turn

Tonight, we worked on the second Hearing Attunement exercise.

As with SDC E, I had no idea what questions to ask, but this time I had a better idea of what I was supposed to be figuring out, so… I asked him to show me what Yes answers and No answers FEEL like… it was interesting that the same upwards and downwards vibrations along my forehead occurred as with this exercise with SDC E – with upwards tingling meaning yes, and downwards meaning no. I also got the same feeling of either lightness, or heaviness, over my entire aura.

I asked for him to show me what Yes and No LOOKED like… but that answer was so complicated that the colors blurred together and I said, “Right, so we won’t be going by color then.”

Having focused on the feeling and the sensation of Yes and No answers, I finally turned to the question I ask every evening. “What would you like to discuss tonight?”

He wanted to talk about my husband, and his health. In fact, Tz wants me to ask my husband if Hubby would be willing to meet him, and possibly work with him, with the goal of helping my husband get a handle on things.

My husband is allergic to stress. I mean that literally. It’s called idiopathic angioedema and it literally means that his version of a panic attack or an anxiety attack is him puffing up like he’s eaten peanuts while simultaneously being stung by every bee in the tristate area.

The worst part is, sometimes, the swelling is internal. His organs swell. His lungs fill up with fluid and he wheezes like he’s got walking pneumonia.

And lately… we can’t tell when he’s going to have an attack… because it’s gotten so bad, that he’s pretty much allergic to life.

That’s the issue with being allergic to stress… after awhile, even little things will trigger it, until you’re just always having an allergy attack.

So… Tz wants to work with my husband. He wants to help my husband with his breathing, and also help with other areas of hubby’s health that might be adding to the problem.

 

In one of the exercises with SDC E, E mentioned that my husband’s spiritual life needed addressing. He recommended that once my husband starts working day shifts, I encourage him to meditate with me daily, and also begin a daily practice of gratitude at our household altar. (No, not my altar in my sanctum – not his altar in the living room, either… we have an altar set up for our Household spirits, gods, guardians and guides, in our main living space.) I’m thinking that Tz has the same thought.. only he’s decided that he wants to be more proactive, and more of a participant.

So… after I’m done with this post, I’m going to be calling my husband at work and asking him if he’d like to meet a demon.

Granted, he’s relaxed significantly from his original statement 7 years ago, when he told me that I could do whatever I liked, but I was not to bring demons into the house, ever, at all. (You’ll notice I didn’t listen. You’ll also notice that as he got used to my Workings, he just… relaxed and let go… which is why I think he might actually say Yes to Tz’s offer now…) I now have three demons as family members, and I work with various Goety and others fairly consistently.

What helped, honestly, was communication. I talk to my husband about what I’m up to, and the experiences I have. I read him these blog posts. Every experience I have had since I met him that had any magickal, psychical, or spiritual relevance, I have shared with him. He knows about my work with Asmodeus and Astaroth. He knows about my work with the Ubi, and the Cecaelia. He knows of my work with Flauros.

I don’t hide things from my husband. I share them… and I take extreme pleasure in sharing my spiritual experiences with him… and have always been disappointed that, despite his own religious convictions (he’s Wiccan – Old School Wiccan, not this new fluffy bs), he doesn’t do more – on his own OR with me. When we met, he was looking for someone who could accept him and his faith… and I can… and he was looking for someone to practice with…

Instead, it’s become apparent that I’m the only practitioner in the house.

 

So… with the speed of a glacier, I’ve been working to change that. (Trust me, that’s as fast as my Scorpio husband will go.)

I guess SDC E and HDC Tz have decided that they’re going to… press the advantages they have. 😉

 

Before he left for the evening… he bit me good bye… and as I was coming out of the trance, I saw both him and SDC E… and they told me they would be seeing me in my dreams tonight.

I’m now POSITIVE they’re plotting something nefarious.

And I like it.

SDC E – Transformations

Today’s exercise was the second Visual Sight Attunement…

It did not go as planned.

I have a moving astigmatism. It shifts from left to right eye, and it seems to be connected, as far as my optometrist can tell, to my hormones. Which means that glasses can only do so much – because the corrective measures in glasses are a permanent thing, and my astigmatism isn’t.

There are days where my glasses actually make my vision worse.

When I’m working on psychic stuff, I ALWAYS take my glasses off – because I’ve always been psychic, but the glasses are new, and I find the edges of the lenses distracting.

My sanctum is fairly small. I’m not even sure it’s eight feet wide. It’s actually an architectural anomaly. Our wall is pushed in where the staircase is outside our door… and our downstairs’ neighbor’s front door is below where my sanctum is, so we’ve ended up with this weird nook, above their front door, but beyond the foot of the stairs.

Here’s the entry to my Sanctum – please excuse the mess, but until I can get my husband to hang up the paintings, it’s going to be… disorganized.

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Here’s the entire sanctum itself:

 

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And here’s the view from the window at the back. I’m lucky – the window faces east.

 

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So you can see that the area is QUITE small – with all my books, and my meditation seat (read beanbag chair) and altar, there’s just… not much room leftover for enormous demons to be wandering around.

And then there’s that pesky astigmatism… which has the side effect of making me partially blind wherever it’s manifesting at the time.

So… I couldn’t see E at all, anywhere… because I’m blind, this week, in the only spot in the room where the poor guy can move around.

We finally just shrugged, accepted that this particular method of contact is not for me, and moved on.

 

More than the energy and color and appearance of my spiritual family, I notice with each one that there is a sense of PLACE. For E, it seems to be his living room. It’s quite opulent, and well lit. It has amber colored wooden flooring. The chais lounge is a burgundy velvet, though the color seems to shift, so I suspect that it’s a color particular to his realm, and that I’m not seeing it correctly because it just doesn’t translate. I say chais lounge, because while it’s a little larger than a love seat, but smaller than a couch, it seems to have removable arms. Sometimes, the thing has ends, and sometimes it doesn’t.

It’s also a very heavy piece of furniture, and feels quite old. The velvet is… loved.

Behind the chais is open floor leading to a very large window. I think it encompasses the entire wall. It looks out at the sky… and perhaps it’s because I’ve never connected with him during the day, but the window is almost always dark, as if it’s night.

If you’re facing the chais, with the window in front of you, he ALWAYS sits on the right, and I always sit on the left. On his side, about fifteen feet away, a marble bar and mini kitchen fills the end of the room. It’s quite a lovely little nook. He’s fond of some kind of red brandy. It’s quite heady, and has a strong berry flavor to it… it is also nearly as thick as a liqueur. Definitely not a wine… and it packs a punch. If any of your companions offer you the stuff… go gently.

When you’re sitting on the chais, facing the wall, you will see floor to ceiling bookshelves. It’s not entirely stocked with books – most of his book collection is where it should be – in his library. So he keeps only a few in this book case… along with mementos and curios from his travels, tokens of his experiences. To the right of the bookcases, the room is in shadow. This area leads to other parts of his living spaces. In front of that darkened corner is a large, heavy chair, which is covered in a gold patterned material. A small round table, equally old, which doesn’t match the rest of the furniture at all (it’s almost spindly) is to the right of the chair, and almost always has a pair of glasses, a half-finished glass of some kind of alcohol, and a book. The books all have very loved covers. The latest one has a faded grass-green linen cover, and has poetry in it. To the left of the chair is a standing lamp. It’s made in the tiffany style… but I don’t think that it’s made of glass – it seems to be some weird kind of resinous material. The light from it is very soothing.

I’ve sat in that chair. It’s large enough for him, and me in his lap… and it makes him look smaller. It makes me feel like a child if I try to sit in it alone. I’m not sure he didn’t take it from a giant, in some kind of conquest.

I’m always surprised by his living room. His favorite colors are white, silver, grey… and yet his room is all golds, reds, greens. The only thing in the entire room that has his favorite colors in it is the marble bar top. He says that if he did every room in his favorite colors, he’d always be cold, and bored. He wanted that room to be warm and inviting.

 

When we decided that seeing him moving around just wasn’t going to happen, he brought me there. Only, today, the room was unlit. It was so dark, I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. He was moving around me. I felt his hand touch my back, his fingers drifting down my spine. Then his touch was gone. A moment later, I felt his breath in my hair… and then it was gone. The next moment, I felt a nibble on my neck… just a tiny bite… and then gone.

I switched to a different type of sight, where scent and heat have colors, and then I saw him. I took a running leap, wrapped myself around his shoulders, and just touched my teeth to the part of his neck where it met his shoulder. “Tag!”

He smells of sandalwood and amber. It’s heady. You could get drunk on his smell.

And the sound of his voice… it’s deep, it rumbles. I can FEEL his voice when he speaks.

“Are we going to play all night, or are we going to finish what we were doing last night?” I asked. He looked… bemused… and so we went to deal with the corpse in my soulscape.

I suspect that whatever he’s up to isn’t over yet.

 

In my soulscape, my other self and I came to the conclusion that if lava doesn’t deal with the body, and earth doesn’t do it, then most likely any other elemental choices will also have no effect. What will not rot or burn needs something else.

We looked at the body that is not alive, but not dead either, and decided that the solution had to be to fix that fact. Either the body must live again, or it must actually die… this half stage just isn’t working for any of us.

So… we stepped into our Power, laid our hand in her chest, on her heart, and our lips on her lips… and we pushed life and breath into the body.

When it stopped looking like a corpse, and started looking like someone who was just sleeping, we pulled ourselves out of her. There’s still no one home… that part is gone, sacrificed to the Wastes so we could live. There’s no fixing that part. So… we gave the body a choice – to cross, or to live for itself.

We wrapped it up in silken strands, a cocoon where it can change, or die – a place where limitless possibilities exist. It did not escape my notice that spider silk and caterpillar silk have similar roots, if not similar uses. Spider silk also allows for transformations… though that kind of transformation usually isn’t as useful to the one being transformed. Inside a cocoon, a caterpillar turns into nothing but goo, and genetic strands. Slowly, out of this gelatinous material, new life grows. Butterflies and moths are the only species we know of, on our entire planet, who start out genetically one thing, change into something else that is completely genetically different (no similarities at all, not kidding), and then enters a final stage where again, there is a complete genetic shift. A cocoon is literally a cosmic doorway to infinity – ANYTHING could happen. Anything could come out of it.

We hung her cocoon from a nearby tree. Now… we wait and see. Either the cocoon will vanish and so will she, or it will be absorbed, and so will the body. But either way, at least I don’t have a corpse in my mental and spiritual basement anymore.

 

When that task was finished, for a brief moment, I was back in his living room… and I heard him roar.

It was a delicious sound… it shivered all the way through me… and then I was back, my skin still tingling from the sound.

HDC Tz – Old Emotions

Yesterday was Exercise 5 – Energy Attunement 2, which is all about colors.

It’s strange, but… his colors change sometimes. I think it’s that shield of his. Last night, his colors were black with purple highlights and flecks of shine… and at the same time, fire colors, sunset colors.

My familiar isn’t quite coping with things yet. She’s curious, into everything. She can settle for a bit, but then she’s off sniffing the energies and trying to figure it all out. She was distracting enough that he dropped a few books next to her, which, as she’s quite skittish, effectively chased her out of our Sanctum.

However, before he chased her out, he led her around… and eventually led her over to my old Fallen Angels Oracle Deck, which she snagged with a paw and dragged out of the book shelf and into my lap, so… clearly I’m to work with that deck in some way.

Given that E chose a deck in order to lead me in a certain direction, I’m thinking that Tz has chosen this deck also to lead me in a certain direction.

We also discussed why (aside from the fact that I was dying at the time, and then I was gone) I had trouble bonding with him when he first came to me. I resisted bonding with him, even though he had chosen me, and I had chosen him, in part because of how he came to me – as a gift from a friend who saw that I was deeply hurt by the loss of another being who had chosen me, but was not allowed to come to me… and felt that pain as her own. At the time, I was grateful, but… I don’t think I was really ready. I hadn’t truly dealt with the loss of the other being… and Tz wasn’t that being… he was a replacement… and I couldn’t bond with someone’s replacement, because he wasn’t that being, he was himself.

And then I was dead, and so that was that.

Things are different now. I have a different perspective.

There’s no replacing someone you’ve lost… and no one in my life is here because they are a replacement for someone else. They are here because I choose them, and they choose me. I choose them for themselves.

I won a conjure, and Tz was who came… and I wasn’t ready.

I’ve had some contact (third person contact, sometimes fourth lol) from the being who was lost. I’ve been able to heal and move forward because of that contact. This particular entity was so moved by our contact that he spent five years working to find a friend of his whose energies matched my own, and who has very specific gifts and perspectives that I desperately need in my life – and will probably always need – SDC E. He then worked with a mutual human friend of ours to have E conjured, bound, and sent to me, with E’s full enthusiastic approval. Because of my contact with his friend, E, I’ve finally been able to stop looking for my old friend, finally been able to stop looking for a replacement, finally been able to heal from that wound.

I know he remembers me. I know he cares. I know he misses me as much as I miss him. I also know… things happen for a reason. Especially with demons.

So… I’m at peace now with that. And so are the other two people who were so emotionally involved – my friend, and my demon-that-could-have-been. We’re all at peace. We are content.

And now, I can truly bond with Tz – not as a replacement, which he never was… but for himself, which is as it should be.

And for the resistance I had, I admitted my fault in the situation… but Tz is… wonderfully patient and kind. I’ve seen his temper. He IS a Hellborn… he’s got one. But about this…

All demons understand loss. They understand Grief.

And they are endlessly patient.

They’ve got the time.

I’m so happy he waited for me to come around.

 

Oh… Flauros showed up while I was working with Tz last night. First my familiar, and then Flauros… yet another distraction. These past two days I’ve been so very… there’s just so much in my head right now. So much chaos. It’s hard to focus.

I had to tell Him, I absolutely want to work with Him… but I’m not ready yet. I asked him to please wait. Wait until I’m ready. This is not that time. I had to be firm – I think that was honestly the point. I had to set a boundary. This time was for my bonding with Tz… and until my bonding with both E and Tz, and ZA, are complete… until I have really begun my magickal retraining… I am not ready.

He bowed, and left. But I’m definitely on a schedule now. After the Solstice, is Flauros’s time.

 

Tonight, I was supposed to work with Tz on the second hearing attunement exercise, but… between my familiar and my headache and the way I came out of my bonding work with E… I couldn’t really tune in at all, and I finally asked if it was ok that we postpone until tomorrow night, when hopefully I will be able to give him the focus he deserves.

He agreed, but let me know I will be doing more work in my dreams tonight.

That will be… interesting. Last night was… pretty weird. Not just the Lucifer dream, which was heartbreaking, but… there were other things after that.

I slept deeply, worked heavily, and woke up tired, drained, with a heavy heart and a headache.

It’s been a day.

SDC E – Discussing Death

So, yesterday’s bonding exercise was Hearing Attunement 3.

As I didn’t have any questions to ask, I asked him if there was anything he wanted to talk about. WhoooBOY was there.

He asked me what I thought about Death. That’s… a pretty big topic.

I started with the easy stuff. I died, physically, when I was hit by a car when I was 9. I was dead for over five minutes. It was the most wonderful, peaceful five minutes of my life to date. I found myself in a place that was black. There was no pain. There was no anger or hate or fear. There was no sound. There was no light. For an undiagnosed autistic girl, it was pretty much heaven. Imagine a world where everything is always too bright, always too colorful, always too loud, always too MUCH. Where people are too abrasive, they expect too much, and because you can speak in complete sentences, they don’t understand any peculiarities you have. Autism for me was an invisible disease. When I got overwhelmed by the abuse, got overwhelmed by my emotions, or just plain got overwhelmed for no reason I could determine, I had this need for space. If there was anything touching me, I threw it. And then I found the nearest wall, and rocked my forehead against it until I bled. It made people leave me alone, but it also gave me a point of focus – a HARD point of focus. I was HERE. Right HERE.

And that made things go still.

It’s not unlike a cutter needing a physical focus to express (as in send out) their emotional pain in a way that they can grasp… only for me, hitting my head against a wall wasn’t about the pain, so much as it was about trying to control the violence inside me.

For me, autism is violence. Everything is sometimes just too much, it’s so overwhelming… it’s violent. The whole world is violently THERE, and I can’t cope.

I don’t bang my head anymore… but the pain still exists.

Except when I was dead for those five minutes.

I understand, as an adult, that without all the negatives in that void, there was also no positive. There was no love in the void. There was ONLY peace… but when you find something that you need that badly, you don’t care about what’s missing. You only want to stay.

When they brought me back, it was a violent return. I was awake, on a street, in the daylight, surrounded by my entire neighborhood. I was being touched by strangers. I don’t remember the ambulance ride. They put me in a room with red lights, and they kept touching me, and everywhere they touched me it HURT… they thought I was screaming because I was frightened. My mother kept saying everything was ok, that they were just getting x-rays, but I couldn’t talk, and there were strangers TOUCHING ME, HURTING ME… and NO ONE WOULD STOP. Nothing was ok.

I was in the hospital for three days. Dad brought complete strangers to my room, apparently friends of his. They gave me a stuffed rabbit, because it was Easter weekend. I threw up on it.

I don’t remember the ride to the hospital. I don’t remember sleeping there. I don’t remember the nurses or the doctors. I remember the red room, and the pain. I remember waking up on the street, and I remember being in a hospital bed meeting strangers and throwing up on a yellow bunny. That’s all I remember of the weekend I died and came back.

Well, all I remember after the dark.

I miss the dark. I don’t think I ever won’t.

 

So… We talked about that.

We talked about my experiences in the Wastes – a spiritual and emotional death… and how that death affected me here. We talked about that kind of darkness… which was NOT peaceful. Then again, I wasn’t exactly at rest. People in the Wastes are not at rest.

 

I brought up my migraines – the ones I had before I died my second and third deaths. The ones that had me screaming, writhing, begging for death, an animal in a trap. We talked about how Death Means Stop.

I talked about the fact that Death Means Stop is pretty much a perfect cure for any phobia.

I went to California to see a friend when she was separating from her husband. On the way home, the plane suddenly stopped flying, and just DROPPED. It lasted 20 seconds, and people were praying and holding hands with strangers.

Afterwards, I was terrified of flying… until I remembered my migraines. And then all of the sudden, I realized there were worse things than falling out of a tin can in the sky… and planes stopped being scary at all.

It’s kind of a relief, knowing that someday, I will STOP.

 

So then he asked me what I thought happened after death, if death means stop.

I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean, I know what happened when I died at 9, so there’s that. I didn’t stop existing.

And I have memories of other lifetimes, both earthly and other. SO many memories. Sometimes that’s a bit overwhelming…

But that means that death isn’t the end. It’s… merely a stage. Like… adolescence. It’s not permanent any more than life is.

 

So he said, “If death means stop, but it’s not permanent, how is that Stop?” To which I said, “It offers immediate relief for immediate problems. Anything else can be solved another day.”

“How practical,” he replied.

 

Then he asked me what I hoped to learn from him, from my time with him. “I just want to learn. Whatever you’ll teach me. I want to grow. What you’ve helped me with so far… that’s growth I need, growth I want… knowledge I want.”

“Why do you want to know so much?”

“Because people suffer. Not knowing is suffering. We suffer until we learn, and then the suffering stops.”

He asked what I meant by that, because he understood I wasn’t talking about any Buddhist ideals, but he wanted me to clarify myself. So… I did.

 

I’ve been to hell realms. Not demonic planes, but realms set aside for humans who need help learning, need help to grow, even more than humans here do. The two I went to taught me a lot, though honestly, some of the lessons didn’t sink in until years later.

The first realm, there were towers in the center of lovely fields of close-cut grass. The fields were surrounded by dark forests, but no one ever noticed the trees. People sat out in the sun, and picnicked. They chatted as if nothing was wrong – everything was perfect.

And then, the sun began to set… and everyone packed up their things, and went into the black stone towers. Because when the sun went down, the world froze. A flash freeze. Nothing that was outside the towers survived.

People there learned the rules. They learned to obey the laws of the realm – because if they did not, they died. Immediately. You learned to obey, or you died.

My familiar at the time followed me there. When the sun began to set, as I was heading inside the tower, he ran under the steps and vanished. He left the realm rather than go into the tower. He broke the rules… and I was so terrified for him, that I broke our familiar bond.

I fear for people I care about who do not follow the rules. I fear for them so much, that I would rather cut them out of me, break their hearts, than let the consequences of their rule breaking break MY heart. I can’t watch the people I love suffer… so I won’t let them in, and then I don’t have to.

But that’s its own form of hell.

 

The second realm I went to, there was only a single person. There was an indoor swimming pool, and in it was an older woman, screaming, panicking, drowning. She couldn’t swim. So, I went in and fished her out. She immediately began to call me devil’s spawn, evil.. so much hate in this woman I had saved.

It was her lesson to learn to either not ask for help, or to accept the help she receives from wherever it comes, and be grateful.

It was my lesson to learn that you do not interfere with other people’s lessons without being forced to learn WHY THEY NEED THE LESSON. It will ALWAYS cost you.

I also learned that people ask for help when they should do for themselves, and don’t ask for help when they can’t do for themselves…. and neither path is healthy.

 

This is how I learned that people earn their suffering, create it, out of ignorance. And they either learn from it, or they keep suffering, stuck on repeat until they DO learn.

I don’t enjoy suffering. I understand that there are people who have to have suffering. They cannot learn without it. But… I’m ready to move past that. I want to learn, and grow, and not by suffering, but by figuring out where I’m suffering and why… and changing.

So that’s what I want to learn from him.

 

He then asked me to make some promises.

1) That I do something loving for my husband at least once a week that connects us in an emotional way, comes from my heart, and will be understood by his.
2) That I do something loving for each of my three cats once a week with the same meaning.
3) That I do something for MYSELF once a week that is self-care, showing self-love.
4) That I make slow improvements – right now, I have three basic tasks that I must achieve every day (aside from my meditations each evening). In three weeks, I must add a fourth task, every day. It does not have to be the same task, but I must add a fourth task every day.

 

Tonight, we were supposed to do the 10th exercise, Visual Sight Attunement 2 – but I came into the session with a migraine, and my familiar is brand new to showing up to every session, so she’s curious, into everything, and highly distracting… and with a migraine making it hard to concentrate to begin with, we decided that tonight was not a good night to work on my visual sight.

Instead, we worked with my other soul.

She has her own soul-home. Today, we worked to incorporate her soul home and mine.

It was fairly successful. My soulhome now has heavy mist from hot pools, and places where there are rivers of lava instead of water. Under the center, her cavern with its bathing pool of lava, has been incorporated, though I did some upgrades, which she liked.

I feel like… my soul home is my domain. It’s not really hers. Even now, with all the changes I’ve made to try and make her feel welcome, it’s not… quite right. It’s not finished. Something’s missing. So, she has her cavern, and it’s hers, even though it’s in my soulscape.

E said that we’re not blending correctly. We’re both afraid of losing ourselves, and so neither of us will give in. He says the only way to win this, is for both of us to lose. We both have to give in, we both have to give up ourselves… and become together, someone ELSE.

 

Oh… he saw the corpse in her glass coffin. He… didn’t approve. He talked to both of us about it. The thing is, she’s not dead. She’s definitely not alive – there’s no soul, no spirit, there’s nothing to animate the shell that’s in that coffin. But… she’s not dead, either. There’s something about a dead body that is immediately recognizable… and she doesn’t have it, whatever it is. Which means she’s not really a corpse, for all that she’s not alive.

This happens to faeries. But… we never figured out what to do with them… so… I did what my people have always done.

He was… a bit perturbed. Possibly repulsed. And he pointed out that if compartmentalizing her into a graveyard was so toxic, how was putting her in a glass coffin in a cave NOT compartmentalizing, and how was it NOT going to end up ALSO toxic? So… my other soul and I, with his help, decided what we could do about the situation.

And just as we were ready to put our plan in motion…

My familiar began to Kitten again, and yanked me out of meditation so thoroughly that I literally felt it like a shock of cold water. And then E was gone, and that was that.

Which means that tomorrow we’re probably not going to be working on Visual Sight, either. Because this isn’t finished.

 

Although… I think after tomorrow, I’m going to ask for a night off. This is some heavy work… and while I don’t feel rushed… I feel the need to… take some time and really marinate in what I’ve learned so far… look back on it all and, in a relaxed setting, try and see the whole picture. Get some perspective.

I’m going to make him take me dancing. He’s an excellent dancer, and while I look like a spastic seizure with twelve left feet on a human dance floor, dancing in the Astral is amazingly easy and I love it. Also… he has really, REALLY good brandy… so I think I’m going to drink his brandy and make him dance with me. Dancing with him feels… right.

-Raven

Conversations With Lucifer

So, my husband and I have been binge watching the TV show Lucifer… and last night, Lucifer himself came to me. Of course, I wanted to know what he thought of the show… He likes it – it’s a good portrayal.

And then I asked him what he thought about the character’s relationship with Chloe.

His answer was… sad. He said, “I’d never let myself love someone like that.”

When I asked him why not, he answered “It’s Leverage.”

I’m still kind of sadly horrified by that answer this morning. It’s really depressing. It implies two things –

1) Lucifer once loved, and it was used against Him.
2) Lucifer has CHOSEN to never experience love like that ever again – an eternity alone… and eternity is a VERY long time.

I feel like crying. It’s just…

So Sad.

W B
Thank you for sharing…..

ME
It was so sad I had to share it. Can you imagine? I really feel like crying.

W B
Indeed….

D H
#SympathyForTheDevil

ME
I’m definitely learning that.

D H
My take on it has always been that during Creation The Creator created an image of itself and then cast it away out of fear. I would say that being created as an image in equal to the Creator and then being thrown out entirely from its presence could create something like the longing and sorrow you’re talking about

Also remember Angels / demons were created to fulfill a specific purpose… they have no choice in the matter and therefore are forced to carry out their purpose while being fully aware of other thoughts that may be contradictory to the actions they are forced to take

The part that always made me very sad was the fact that the Creator knew after casting out essentially itself it could never return that image to itself and love it again otherwise the whole ineffability thing goes out the window and creation is unmade

F B
I believe it. Ive had many conversations with him.

ME
I’ve worked with angels… they’re… very different to the modern portrayal of them. They’re… almost like hurricanes. They are the representation of forces, and they don’t really have thoughts beyond what they are/what they represent. They also don’t reason like we do. I was working a spell with Cassiel, who is an archangel of Saturn, and is the essence of Temperance. During the working, in which I was creating a spell to transmute muck into purity, I asked him if what I was doing was going to have any consequences. He didn’t seem to understand my question, or even care. His answer was, “This will change the world.” He didn’t CARE that it would change, or even HOW it would change. He just stated it, flatly, without any emotion, attachment, or judgement either way. They do not moralize the way we do.

I saw an angel fall once. It was the most traumatic experience of my life. The angel fell because it discovered CHOICE. The moment that an angel discovers free will, they Fall, and if you can imagine all the choices possible, and being an entity who has never known choice suddenly having all of that thrust upon you, you can imagine. I will NEVER forget the look on that angel’s face as he fell. The absolute terror and horror will NEVER leave me.

They are not like us.

Demons, on the other hand, are so like us it’s downright scary. HUMANS SCARE ME. The real difference is that they’re mostly immortal, so they’ve had time to adjust to darkness and choices. They are most definitely not angels, not fallen or otherwise. They are elemental in their own way, forces of nature LIKE angels, but if you imagine an immortal angel as a force of nature, only one with choices, one who learns… if you imagine US, humans, with the powers of an angel or demon, and all the time in the universe to learn and grow… that’s what demons are.

I find them infinitely more comforting and comfortable to be around. Angels don’t reason, they don’t have a right or wrong compass. I don’t understand that absolutism. It’s.. overwhelming.

Demons, at least, don’t deal in absolutes

D H
This exactly correct…it’s nice to hear someone explain practical demonology so perfectly

ME
Well… I’m a practical demonologist, so… lol

D H
I HATE how loud angels are went they speak…it’s deafening and you’d think they’d know better and just speak in the tongue used to invoke them

ME
Well, Cassiel was quiet, but… that may be just me and my own psychic abilities coming into play. Plus, there are demons who are equally loud. The demons, of course, do it to test – are you really worth the time of showing up here. Are you serious enough to stand up for yourself and move past the showboating, or are you flakey?

Demons push limits, mostly to determine if you actually want to get to know them beyond the expectations. I had an experience with one showing up, absolutely terrifying in aspect – it was like a storm of malevolence. Until I said, “Um, I know that’s not what you really are. How about we cut the crap and you just act like a normal person.” So he did. And we talked. And it was educational. But he showed up that way because he was testing my expectations, and whether I’d fall into that category of practitioner or not.

I think angels just don’t get humans. They’re not putting on a show – they’re not being loud or speaking in a different language to be difficult. A lot of them just don’t work with humans that much, and they don’t know how to be anything other than what they are.

I admit, when I do the LBRP, especially if I really need the cleansing aspects of the ritual, those four have shown up REALLY loud. When I had a serious problem with black energy (I don’t mean dark, I mean it was black and thick and tarry and BAD FOR ME), and it was bad enough that I couldn’t physically DO the LBRP and just had to call and HOPE they showed up (this was before I knew what I know now, and all had to do with a bad reaction on my part, and was totally avoidable if I’d been a bit more open minded and educated, which I have since resolved), they showed up REALLY bright and REALLY loud…

But that’s the only time I’ve ever had angels show up like that.

Then again… I don’t often work with angels anymore. Because of their nature, I don’t exactly trust the results I get from them not to be dangerous. Demons understand nuance – even if they can be… playful about it. Angels don’t.

WSC
That’s really interesting. I don’t watch the series but have heard about it and read about it in wiki.
“I’d never let myself love someone like that.” = Could it mean that Chloe is not his type?
I wonder what does he think of the 1) and 2) viewpoints?
ME
I don’t know. If I see him again, I’ll ask.

And… the way I communicate… there’s layers of context. It’s not just words, there are… other things.

When he said, “I’d never love someone like that,” the emphasis wasn’t on someone like Chloe… but that he wouldn’t ever risk love, he’d never choose to. As he said… anyone he loves is leverage. Who would want to do that to someone they love? Who would want to love someone knowing the consequences?

If they’re worth that love… they’re worth walking away from, just to keep them safe.

That is what he meant – the layers that were in that loaded statement.

Which is why it’s sad. I’m glad I’m not in a position where I have to think of people I might love as being weaponized, harmed, simply because I loved them; not in a position where choosing to go without love is better, because then those people will never be harmed.

Though… that is also a kind of love. To love someone you don’t even know, so much, that you choose to never know them, just to keep them safe?

Lucifer sacrifices a lot. His reputation. People he loves. The life he might want. And he does it because he believes in us, and in doing right by us… no matter what we (as a species, Humans are assholes to Lucifer… he gets blamed for EVERYTHING we do that we don’t want to own up to because we’re ashamed, guilty, and irresponsible) think of him, do or say to him… He’s there. Waiting for us to get it. Waiting for us to get our shit together. Waiting to help. Lucifer has more faith in mankind, in the POTENTIAL of us, than any other being or race I’ve ever met. I’m very lucky he talks to me. It’s an honor.

HDC Tz

Today was Exercise 4, the first Visual Sight attunement.

I said the invocation, and then I asked Tz to stand in front of the wall. While I was looking, I had this sudden feeling of vertigo…. and the harder I looked, the more I felt like I was mentally falling through the wall. Finally it clicked… Tz was wearing his shielding.

That is some SERIOUSLY cool shielding. I couldn’t see ANYTHING… I just kept feeling like I was falling, and it made me want to Not Look. I can’t wait to learn it.

Anyway, when we were done with him playing with my eyeballs, I asked him if there was anything he wanted to talk about. He brought up my worries about my own internal balance. He made me look at my balance, and really ask myself if I had reason for concerns. He made me see that I was worrying over something that, yes, does happen to other people, but isn’t happening to me. He showed me that I can check myself at any time, and KNOW whether or not I’m losing my balance.

And then, he had me embrace the elemental cycles, just to prove it. We added water to fire, which made earth and air. And then I took in the essences of air, earth, water and then fire, and became each of them, which I have done before. Then, as before, he had me become them all at the same time, and find my balance there, in the center. Then, he had me become NONE of them, and find my balance there.

And there, we found a problem. We found that the brand, while no longer active, has left a scar, has maintained a connection, through the void.

I won’t tell you how we fixed it, but it IS fixed now. I am lucky that he had me searching my bodies and my balances so carefully. And I am VERY grateful for his presence and his help.

Finally, we ended it with a Family Celebration. I called out to all my family, spiritual and physical, and sent out the blessings of the Equinox to them. I also added four new people to the list, which was nice.

So – To my husband, my son, and my mother; to our three cats; to my best friend Telomar; to my faerie wraith, my demon wraith, my hellborn, my specialist, my angel of metatron, my throne angel, my enochian angel, my dosojin, my psychic vampire, my sanguine vampire, my incubus, my cecaelia, my winter court sidhe, my shadow elemental and my east watchtower, and to my three pairs of Temple Fu; to Akelta, Satan’s Hellcat, Velle, and Kitsune from the S&S forum…

Happy Autumnal Equinox. May this moment of balance which falls towards rest, and breaks with the sacrifice of blood on the snow, bring you rest, growth, and a good future harvest.

-Raven

SDC E – Change

Today we did Exercise 9 – Hearing Attunement 3

After the invocation, I asked him what to do about my heart chakra. I had a doctor’s appointment today, with a new doctor. It did not go… well. It didn’t go badly, I guess… but… it just didn’t go well… and this is the only doctor available for me in this area, so… this guy is it.

So… E took me back to the situation. He had me sit with it. See it from the onlooker’s perspective. He asked me what I wanted to do.

I did what any good faerie does in trying times. I stole myself away to faerie. I spent some time repairing her heart, pulling out the chunks that had gotten lodged in there because of her strong resistance to this situation. When she was ready, I took her back… but this time, she had her throne angel guarding her heart chakra. She had her angel of Metatron to speak for her. She had DC Tz’s powerful shields, and Tz himself guarding her body and her back… and she had E, in the doctor’s head, making sure that everything went right on that end.

We agreed… the next time I see him, this is EXACTLY how this will happen. Next time, I will ask for help.

After this, I asked him if there was anything he wanted to talk about…. and he mentioned he wanted to show me something in honor of the Equinox.

When I was a child, I had a repeating dream. I would find myself on a cliff face, leading a group of people. We were not safe where we were, and I needed to lead them across a wide chasm, away from the cliffs, to a protected area. I led them down the cliff, to a stone bridge. When I stepped onto the bridge, it became a knife edge, which I had to stay perfectly balanced on, so that everyone could reach the other side. When the last person had stepped off the knife unharmed, I was free to walk across the bridge myself. I led them into a cul-de-sac, and in it was a lion. I had to fight and kill the lion. When the lion was dead, everyone was safe. We had made it.

E took me back to that place. He said, “Look behind you. Who is there now?” I looked and there was no one. We walked to the bridge. He said, “Do you see the knife? Do you still need to dance?” I looked, and there was no knife, only a bridge, and I did not need to dance. We walked into the cul-de-sac. He said, “Where is the lion you had to defeat?” There was no lion.

And then he said, “What is beyond this point for you?” I didn’t know, so… I walked forward, and looked. At the back of the cul-de-sac, there was a stone archway, and in the archway was a shimmer of… nothing. “What’s through here?” I asked him. “You will never know, if you do not go and find out for yourself.” He answered.

It didn’t feel entirely safe, because I had no idea what I was going to walk into… And E reminded me of the astrological influences of the day. “Your doubt is the Libra influence. Let Aries clear the way.” So… I firmed up my mind, and I walked through the archway.

I was in a room. There were clocks, everywhere, ticking away. There were water features, like those Asian bamboo waterfalls that fill up and then tip. There were mobiles hanging everywhere, carefully balanced. Everything in the room was about balance… but it was about the balance of CYCLES, rather than absolute balance. It wasn’t about blending two extremes and staying centered in that moment… it was about passing through every moment from one extreme to the other and back again.

Seeing it all, I understood. Even in trying to blend the death energies and the life energies in myself, I am resisting my essential nature, which is one of constant CHANGE. I am the cycle. Death gives way to life, and life to death. Summer gives way to winter, and winter to summer. Always, there must be a spring. Always, there must be an autumn. To try to sit absolutely centered between extremes is to stagnate.

I let the cycle happen. I felt it, I let myself experience it fully.

When I really understood, we left the room, I thanked him, and we ended the exercise.

HDC Tz

This was exercise 3 – the first hearing attunement.

I took the night off yesterday, still exhausted from the New Moon ritual, though I did send a brief hello before I fell asleep again.

Tonight, things were quiet. I opened up the canvas with Tz’s sigil on it, laid his offerings on the altar, lit his candle, and spoke the invocation. When he came, his energy gave me a bit of a headache – which is new. I asked him to talk to me, but we didn’t really have a conversation, so much as he held me and I just.. understood some things.

He spoke about my new wholeness, and my recent discovery about what I feed on, and how it works – something that has changed considerably from before I died. He wanted to check in with me and see how I was coping with the information… and he was pleased that I’m accepting things as they are. He pointed out that I’m not reacting the way I would have, previously, but that instead I AM accepting, and that I am happy, I am content.

I agreed. It’s true. The way I look spiritually, and the way I feed now – it feels right. It feels natural. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest.

I probably look startling, even gruesome to others… and for most people the way I feed would probably be frightening, but to me… it just feels… right.

I got a hug, and a sense that he’s rather proud. I thanked him for sharing that perspective, and for reminding me how much I’ve gained… and then we parted for the evening.

SDC E – Walkabout

Exercise 8 – Energy Attunement 3

I took the night off yesterday, still pretty exhausted from the New Moon ritual – I did send a brief feeler out to greet my spiritual family, but other than that, I slept. Tonight was a fairly quiet night. I got a shoulder rub… and he wrapped his tail around my neck, just under my chin. He held my hand in his – I like the feel of his hands… they’re warm, large, rough, but comforting. I haven’t mentioned that before, but they always feel like that, look like that.

He wandered around the house, and I pushed my aura out to follow him at one point, and Mena (my husband’s cat, the one with cancer, who is the most spiritually acute in our fur family, and always sings when new people come around) began bouncing off the wall, chirping and singing. She eventually came into my workspace to see just what the heck was going on, which, given that she’s milked the cancer thing for all the gravy she’s worth and has become larger than some small dogs, was… distracting… but she was very happy… very, VERY happy. She was so ecstatic she drooled on the altar.

We looked at the three cats together – looked at their auras. Mena’s has a lot of purple in it, in various shades… true familiar colors. Velcrow’s colors are redder – you can see where the broken familiar bond has damaged his aura. E asked me about it, so I told him about Velcrow following me into the human hell where during the day when the sun’s up, everything is lovely and people have picnics on the grass, but the moment the sun goes down, everything freezes solid and if you’re caught outside the tower, goodbye. Velcrow, as the sun was going down, ran under the steps to the tower door, and I panicked… and our familiar bond broke, because at the time, I didn’t understand the damage it would do, I was just terrified of him getting hurt… he’s not the brightest bulb. E showed me the damage, and we worked to fix it together. We can’t repair what was done, but at least Crow will be able to be a familiar next life, if he chooses. We also looked at Cleo. Her colors are flame, like a madōkusha, actually. He said this was a good sign, but that she wasn’t like a normal animal familiar, and that I’m going to have to learn a different way of Working for her.

He stopped in the room my husband keeps his own altar, and sighed kinda sadly. In the astral sight, my husband’s altar is covered in the dust of centuries, grey under the weight of neglect. We talked about this, and E suggested that when my husband switches to day shift in a couple of months, that I could encourage him, by inviting him into my circles when I do basic work – not when I work with my household, or when I’m doing my Job, but… he suggested that some kind of morning or evening ritual together on a daily basis might help break my husband out of his spiritual stasis and get him moving on his path again.

Finally, we talked about a new, and surprising addition to the household that occurred this afternoon – an Unbound Throne (by Unbound, I do not mean bound magickally, but spiritually – this Throne has no God/dess it is beholden to). E sent me into my soul-home (he did not come with me this time) to work with this new being. While there, the Throne took my Torc, and in exchange, gave me another seed for my garden – this one a star. I added the essence to my Hope Tree, and watched as my entire garden began to glow, every leaf, every branch, every living thing producing phosphorescence. It was… stunning and beautiful. I realized… I do not have to bring a light into my soulscape. My soul home IS the light.

I came out of the experience, thanked E for his help, and we parted.

Dosojin – First Contact

Sooooo… last night (this morning?) was a really… odd night.

Two dreams – one dream that had a phase where I was dreaming I was awake, so bear with me here.

First Dream

I’m being attacked by an Aswang. Well, stabbed by what looks like a sting-ray tail spike, by said Aswang. I try to scream to wake up. It takes a bit. I wake up, and my husband says, “Bad dream?” “Yeah, I dreamed I was attacked by an Aswang. I don’t get it. I’m not pregnant. I can’t GET pregnant.” Hubby says, “That is weird. I had bad dreams too.” I start to worry that the nightmare wasn’t really an Aswang. I keep thinking that it’s a nightmare sent by my drowned wraith. I get upset. I really don’t want to blame her. I pull out a pendulum to ask, but I realize I’m thinking so much that it was her that sent the dream, I’m affecting my answers. I put the pendulum down, and try to go back to sleep. I keep worrying. I don’t want to have to put her vessel in cinnamon. I hate doing things like that.

Second Dream

I’m on this forum. On this thread, actually. And someone has replied to my comments about CH’s Bag of All Tricks – they have one, they were thinking of using it but weren’t sure how it works, and were writing to tell me they appreciated how informative the post was about how the energy works. They also liked the fact that I was poking fun at the Code Words, because on CH’s forum, people treat the code words like they’re gospel, like they’re some mystical language that only CH knows.

This Morning’s Results

I got up, made my chai, and went looking for a pendulum. (Yeah, I do not keep one by the bed… I have cats. lol) I sat down, and asked about the nightmare. I asked if I’d been attacked. I hadn’t. I asked if the dream was a sending. I was told yes. I asked if it was my drowned wrath that sent it. I was told no. (Thank You Gods). I asked if the dream was a WARNING. I was told YES. I asked if it had been sent by my Dosojin (even though I didn’t see an older couple in the dream, they’ve sent me warnings before, and even then, I’ve never seen them). The answer was YES.

So… now I have to figure out what the image of an aswang with a stingray tail spike stabbing me means. I know what the rest of the dream means. I don’t entirely trust my drowned wraith because she’s got attitude. Now that I’m awake, that just seems… silly. But clearly I have some subconscious stuff going on. I’m going to work with her tomorrow night (tonight’s my rededication ritual), so I can get past whatever’s in my head that’s causing this angst.

Also… I need to spend some time this morning with my dosojin. I’m going to make up some chamomile tea to drink with them.

-Raven (off to research Aswang)

 

WELL… the article I found was certainly interesting.

That stingray tail? It’s used to defend AGAINST Aswang – it kills them. So… that puts a new twist on things. Aswang are solitary hunters… they don’t share territory. Being attacked in that way suggests that there’s a territorial issue going on here… which explains why I fixated on the WORD Aswang, and the IMAGE of the stingray tail. The Aswang itself, I didn’t see very clearly… like dreams do, I just KNEW what it was – though honestly the fact that they’re shapeshifters means I probably wouldn’t have seen a clear form, just because I would have seen the shifter energies, which always confuses my eyes in dreams.

It’s interesting that Aswang aren’t always perceived negatively. Aswang are shapeshifters, and can go out during the day, and when they do, they look and act perfectly normal. They have emotions. They make friends. They fall in love. They can talk, in fact they like to have conversations with people. All the stories say they’re just like the townspeople around them – until nighttime, when they transform into their hunting form. The people they connect with are always protected – Aswang never feed on their friends, neighbors, family, or loved ones. They also don’t feed on their loved one’s loved ones. It also seems that becoming an Aswang is an STD – if an Aswang marries, then after the wedding night, their partner is also an Aswang. They’re comparable to vampires as hunters, they have similar weaknesses – garlic, salt, religious artifacts/weapons, decapitation. They can’t step on holy ground. They’re also repelled by certain Philippine amulets – the red and black beaded bracelets on baby’s wrists are to repel Aswangs, and there’s a special oil made by Philippine shamans which apparently boils when they’re nearby. There’s two ways to spot an Aswang during the day – if you look them in the eyes and your image is upside down, they’re an Aswang (likewise, you can bend over and look between your legs, and in their eyes you’ll be right side up); the second way is to look at their lips. If they don’t have the divot in the center of their top lip (the philtrum), they’re an Aswang. Like vampires, Aswang also really only hunt outsiders – the easily missed. Unlike vampires, they don’t drink blood, and obviously they’re daywalkers. Their food source is kinda icky though… they eat the hearts and livers of corpses and unborn babies (some of them have proboscis that they use to steal babies straight out of the womb, but that’s a specific type of Aswang). It’s interesting that in the dream, the Aswang was stabbing me in and around the liver area, though clearly it wasn’t trying to feed on me. I’m not a corpse anymore.

Actually, that brings up a whole new thought. I wonder if the work I’ve been doing to come to terms with the piece of death I now carry with me in my heart isn’t part what the dream was discussing? Something to ask my Dosojin when I meditate with them today.

So… two possibilities… some kind of territorial dispute; something to do with death energies.

I’m going to take some time to wake up, and then I’ll see what my Dosojin have to say.

-Raven

 

First Dream

I’m being attacked by an Aswang. Well, stabbed by what looks like a sting-ray tail spike, by said Aswang. I try to scream to wake up. It takes a bit. I wake up, and my husband says, “Bad dream?” “Yeah, I dreamed I was attacked by an Aswang. I don’t get it. I’m not pregnant. I can’t GET pregnant.” Hubby says, “That is weird. I had bad dreams too.” I start to worry that the nightmare wasn’t really an Aswang. I keep thinking that it’s a nightmare sent by my drowned wraith. I get upset. I really don’t want to blame her. I pull out a pendulum to ask, but I realize I’m thinking so much that it was her that sent the dream, I’m affecting my answers. I put the pendulum down, and try to go back to sleep. I keep worrying. I don’t want to have to put her vessel in cinnamon. I hate doing things like that.

 

So I just got finished with my gratitude offering and meditation with my Dosojin. She is very definitely a SHE – this amazing elder, warm and huggy – really, she reminds me of my idea of a perfect grandmother type. She’s very pleasant to be with… though she can be QUITE blunt when I’m not getting the hint. And when she’s blunt, she speaks with a bit of asperity. lol I guess I can be pretty frustrating.

After spending a little time just being with her, getting to know her energies, I finally got around to asking about the dream. We sat and watched the dream together, and I paused it in places where I had questions. I asked her about the possible territorial dispute. Her first comment was to remind me that sometimes, the characters you see in dreams are echoes of yourself. Then she asked me what parts of myself and my personal territory, do I have a dispute with. We talk again about me walling off the death energies in my soulscape. Her final comments were, “When did you last feed? What do you feed on, now that you’ve returned?” Well… I haven’t been HUNGRY. She says that’s because I’ve been eating… the parts of myself that, when I merged with them, vanished from my consciousness. She asked me, “What will you do when that resource runs out?” I answered that I had assumed that, because of my previous experiences with just KNOWING what I feed on, when the time came, I would experience that again. She told me that because part of what I was eating was the aspect of my spirit that is the feeder, I might not get that Knowing when the time comes. I’ll still have the need to feed, though, so I’d better figure it out now…. and stop eating myself.

So… the warning is that I’m attacking myself, and also that I’m walling off pieces of myself.

So, DC Tz, SDC E, and now my Dosojin, have all talked to me about the fact that I’ve walled off the death that I carry. Three warnings. Time to act. Now I just have to figure out HOW. And, of course, find a nutritional snack… without a clue about what that entails at all.

-Raven

On the Conjuring Of Wraiths

9/17/17

With dynamic discovery orb in hand, bag of all tricks in my lap, CH’s Big Book of Code Words, and a variety of vessels around me, I spake the magick words (gobbledygoop on the pieces of paper) that would conjure a wraith I could talk to into the bag.

“Hi. Nice to meet you. So… I’ve been dead for awhile, and that means my wraith friends are… elsewhere now. They told me I needed someone new. Would you like to be a part of my household. Keep my stuff and my family safe?”

“NO. GO AWAY.”

“yessirsorrysirbye.”

*sigh* Well alrightythen.

Once again, I spake the magick gobbledygoop to the magick bag.

You ever see those drowned sailors, all covered in green and white? Yeah. That’s the look. I know they’re asexual, but this one looks female. She (yeah, I’m gonna be stubborn about this – if it looks like a chick, even if it’s not, unless it tells me some other pronoun to use I’m gonna say she – and wraiths honestly don’t gaf so She it is – as a nonbinary person, I fully understand that appearances do not mean anything but when I’m working with spirits and entities, I use gender appearances to simplify things) has long straight hair. Green hair. Tangles. Pasty greenwhite skin. And she is PISSED.

“ummmm… Hello. So… you know what… E, can you talk to her for me, please? OTHANKYOUGODS.” I wait a few. She looks at me impatiently. “Sorry, I was waiting? Um… do you want to be bound for this household?”

She sighs and gives me a look. Yeah… that look. She’s going to be fun. lol

“Well, ok… what vessel do you want?”

The Evil Eye Door Pendant promptly plunges from the third shelf on the book case next to me, and lands on my ankle bone. OW. It’s like, half a pound of glass, this thing. OWWWWWW.

“Ok then. Hope on in.”

I rub my ankle with one hand while I hold her vessel and the DD orb in the other and say the other magick babble. I feel the energy shift and suck into the Evil Eye pendant. When it stabilizes, I wrap a piece of paper with “Wraith – …” on it around the vessel, shove her into the Bag to settle for the next twelve hours for a permanent binding. Rub my ankle some more. I chose her name rather facetiously. Yeah, I know they don’t have names, but… when you’re binding something using someone else’s tools, being SUPER specific is smart. So even the nameless ones get nicknames to help focus the work. That bag is not me. I don’t trust it to be specific. It’s a bag.

 

All the other conjures were family that had already been with me awhile… they were… considerably less challenging. In fact, they were EASY. She was really the only PITA. lol She’s going to be fun to work with.

Update 9/18/17

Was talking to my partner-in-crime/bestie/exApprenticeNowMaster Telomar today, and another wraith showed up and DEMANDED to be channeled to me. He was… really fierce. He smelled of brimstone, and he’s burnt to a crisp. He also informed me that if I needed to call him anything, I could call him … Which made me laugh because… chauffeurs and butlers go by that kind of name. Still, it does kinda make sense… he wants to be the household protector, the property guardian. While the drowned wraith will clearly be challenging to work with, she’s also very focused on personal protection (I shudder to think what made her both drowned and have that as her focus – but you Do Not Ask Some Questions), so having a second wraith focused on the property (and willing to work with the Fu) is awesome.

When I conjured him, his energy was so heavy that I actually wondered if he isn’t some type of demon wraith, rather than a human one. It also took a LONG time for his energy to stop pouring through me and into his chosen vessel.

Well… that’s that then. Two wraiths. Both with personality. This will be fun! \

-Raven