Author: Boneweaver (aka pjvj)

It can be easy for me to fall into a rut with what Work I expect from which God. This is based on past experiences, trance with them, and their standard associations. I put Them in a box. They like boxes as much as we do, which is not at all, as boxes tend to suffocate, no matter how delightful.

Yemaya has Her box in my head. It’s a lovely one with salted waters flowing through the bottom, brilliant beige sands on the left, and plush greens on the right. Stars whirl and flash hot across the top and the walls are bright colours with art made of discarded seashells. The soundscape is a hearty mix of ocean waves, lapping brooks, birdsong, and music that carries the rhythm of my blood pulsing to my heart. The smellscape is sweet tangy flowers, brine, and the sensuous odour of Love. All of creation she holds in her hands, her heart, her womb. Her feet leave seeds of renewal with every step of the dance. I love her box. She does, too, but, it is still a box.

Yemaya wants to come to Medusa camp in July. I’ve had other Goddesses and Gods surprise me with which events they wish to attend with me, eschewing their boxes. I guess at Who wants to travel for a gathering and then They tell me yes or no, while Others jump in demanding to be taken. Hel wants to come to Medusa camp this year. Of course She does! No surprise! Death is a big piece of this story. And …. so is life. Hel is always reminding me of her left side, the living flesh side. It’s amusing, because I know, I know, and yet She whispers in my ear, “Life feeds on death the same as death feeds on life.”

I should have suspected something big was coming with Yemaya when she insisted a few months ago that her shrine be moved to a more prominent place and she wanted more attention. Both have occurred.

I have a long time online friend who has started looming ask if I wanted a rainbow cloth/altar scarf for my Work concerning the Orlando massacre in a gay club on June 11th during Latinx night. My energies and spellwork are for the Beloved Dead and for healing and justice for the LGBTQA++ going forward. My friend asked what Powers and Gods with their associated energies did I want to pull in. Yemaya lithely jumped to Her delicious feet, stopped her dance of the heavens, turned full face to me, and said with somber eyes plus a firm tone, “ME”. (Others desired to lend power to this project, but Yemaya was first.)

My friend weaves magic into her work with the loom. To be quite honest, she weaves magic into everything. For her newest Art of looming she has a lovely process of calling and weaving which you can read about here. My cloth is near done. As my friend was weaving Yemaya stepped in, speaking Her expectations of me for this Work. These messages have been passed on to me. She is coming to camp, and to other events in the future, for this Work, for this Magic. Beautiful as it is, a box is constricting, and the Gods will not be limited. Nor should They be. They expect us not to limit ourselves, either. Ashé.