Category: spiritual work

A Prayer for Descendants

Published on by Boneweaver (aka pjvj)3 Comments

On another platform we were discussing the dearth of prayers for descendants compared to the wealth of those for ancestors. To combat the lack I wrote one.

A Prayer for Descendants

My name is not a whisper in your ancestors’ ears,
so long gone,
a gossamer memory tattered by millenia.

And yet,
and yet…

When breezes lie soft on cheeks and hair,
and rains gentle across your lands;
when baby rabbits play tag nearby,
and hope lines the pockets in your soul;
when drink on tongue quenches deep thirst,
and laughter percolates crevices in
your home,

know this, dear one,

It was me,
kissing love into the stars,
to sift thru dark skies,
and weave into dreams
to bespatter your days.

~Boneweaver ©️2022

Mindfulness is bloody hard

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This is one of the most difficult concepts for me to not argue against. What do meeeeaaaannnn I’m not my thoughts and feelings?!? Of course I am! Oh wait, thank gods I’m not. With a brain that runs a hundred directions at once, really, thank gods I am not.

My essence, my love that is life force, the whatsit in us that drives and powers all that is, I know are not my thoughts and feelings. It is so much more and so much less than the story in my head. In those sparse and atm rare moments that I remember this, I find peace within.

COVID-19 and Scarcity Mindset

Published on by Boneweaver (aka pjvj)1 Comment

I’m disheartened by the cruel words I’ve seen directed at those stocking up at the stores and online. Our society and capitalism have fueled a scarcity mindset since the depression to drive profits and keep people in fear. The empty stores shelves are that mindset in action.

My dad was born just a sneeze before the depression and he had scarcity written into his bones. It didn’t matter he had a steady office job with decent pay. We lived with many shelves of extra paper products including TP. Extra canned and dry goods. An extra full size standing freezer and second standard fridge/freezer in the basement, all stocked. And every night before he left work he called my mom and asked if she needed anything from the grocery store. His hoarding extended beyond groceries and included money keeping him from enjoying much of what he’d planned so long and hard for due to scarcity. This mindset never left him. In fact it was reinforced when USSteel failed, the company he worked at for 30 odd years yet he felt safe because of the habits his scarcity mindset had created.

 

Scarcity mindset is real, it’s based in trauma, and it’s passed down generationally. It leaves an imprint so deep that even in times of surplus it shouts from the darkness at us. And it serves big business of every type so capitalism does nothing to ally its fears. I cannot impress on you the level of restraint I’ve needed to “only” have 2 extra packs of TP on hand right now.  Not shopping more has me stomping down panic. I’m battling a lot of memories. I’m battling the voices in my head. All to resist the over-culture’s implanted fear, my family’s ingrained fear, and the anxiety COVID-19 is producing in my world and the larger world beyond.

 

For my love of community, I resist and leave most items in the stores/online. In compassion for my community, I refuse to judge those who don’t/can’t.

 
I ask this of you, my community: join me in this spell or resistance and compassion. If you are able, leave some items for others. If you are unable, share them when called to do so. And always, hold compassion for all of us, especially those who feel unable to resist.
 
Boneweaver
Reclaiming/Feri priestex
 

Paganism: resists infallible leader syndrome, eats them when they fail

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“….I’m always hesitant about stepping into leadership in my community. I feel called to share my gifts, and resist the glare of the spotlight. Scrutiny is a difficult thing, but my religious community prides itself on being fully human in all the places of our lives. We encourage and embrace each other as we flail and fall, dust off our knees, and rise to the task again and again. We neither coddle nor punish weakness. Sometimes punish strength. We walk the edges – try not to fall into codependence, hold our boundaries, and push through our discomfort…..”

 

First published on paganbloggers at Musings from the Bone.

Thoughts thru the Maze – who is the monster at the center of the labyrinth?

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Is it me? Is it you? My thoughts run frantically after each other, twisting in confusion. I search for the path to the center. Was there a minotaur, or simply a mirror? When does a hospice worker get to say, “nope, not you”? Do you get to say bugger off to your calling? When seeking advice from the Ancestors, why do they snort-laugh and shrug?

Answers in order: Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Whenever. Sure. Because they can.

If I can find a way to decipher my feelings around the situation it will all become clear, yes? Does a soul-cleanser get to say, “Not my job. I’m not the only Worker here”? Are there guns involved, and if so, what caliber? Will regret be involved? Does that change anything?

Answers: Same as the first set, choose as appropriate.

Decisions that shift hourly are exhausting. Life is exhausting. Death is exhausting. Sleep will be a temporary relief.

What to do, what to do

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I tend to side-eye myself (I use a mirror?) when coincidences pop up and I think, “aha! Connection! Intelligent Universe!” I seem to give more grace to other folks’ coincidences than to my own. Now, I do believe some things are only coincidence, and other things not, and the latter is more common as a rule.

I don’t jump to Reason It’s Written in Destiny™ straight off. I wait to see if anything else shows up. At times I feel a push to do a thing, with no known reason for the pushing to be as hard and urgent as it feels. Take for instance collecting the moon water at the ocean last week. I mean sure – witchywoohoo why not? But it felt like a mandate more than a desire. I’ve learned not to question so much and just do in those situations, and allow myself to wonder later when I’ll know why.

Yesterday I was told stories by a woman of her visit to Standing Rock to deliver supplies to the water protectors there. I’m not going to tell her stories here, they are hers to tell in her own blog. She talked of elders reskilling tribal members in the old ways of their traditions: herbs, and medicines, and blessings – especially the water blessings with wonderful details. There was a story of moondancers and a water blessing that reminded me much of the Waters of the World spell in my own tradition and we talked about this.

My friend had just stopped for the night, a pitstop on her way back home. As she thanked me for the couch of hospitality she reached into her car and pulled out a bit of sage from Standing Rock. She handed it to me as a thank you. I was touched. As I held that sage I thought of the moondancers and their water blessing. I thought of the moonwater I’d collected on a whim. I didn’t even side-eye myself, I just smiled.

These 3 things need to be put together as a working for the waters and the protectors. They have a purpose beyond the obvious. Mystery – how it arrives, what it holds, and what is released as it manifests is a big part of the draw to my path. What to do with these 3 things remains to be discovered, but once done I will again feel Mystery’s Touch. May I never tire of it.

I need to note this – extra active Spirits

Published on by Boneweaver (aka pjvj)2 Comments

I’ve been meaning to “note this somewhere” and here is as good as any place, yes? Starting about mid-August I’ve noticed unusually active spirits, sprites, Beloved Dead, and various other flitting-about Energies. Generally these are always around, seen when looking, and more easily visible as the veil thins towards Samhain. But this year, this year,  they are early and active, like whoa.

It has been a distraction especially while driving. They are not fluttery wisps, they are dense and quick. So much so I’ve been reacting as if pedestrians are about to rush in front of my car. It is quite unnerving when I’m behind the wheel. I cannot fathom what it’s going to be like once we’re at Samhain, but I’m rather excited to find out. Hail our (often) Unseen!

The Gods and Releasing Expectations

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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.

A funny thing happened on the way to my grave….

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(originally posted on this day three years ago, it was a good reminder today)

I am reminded again of how easily I can hold two seemingly conflicting ideas inside of me and be at peace with that. This is not true for everyone. Some people need everything to line up logically and make sense or they must discard what doesn’t. It is how they order their world. Their sense of personal safety and security depends on it. Logical structure, schedules, and outlines hold the edges of their life and such things make them happy.
My sense of How Things Work depends on the idea that not everything is logical, nor should it be.  Everything does not fit together in a Tab A/Slot B way. First draft outlines, dynamic schedules and loose structure hold the soft edges of my life and make me happy. Hard lines constrict me, do not make sense within my world view, and cause me to feel suffocated. It is an interesting endeavor when these two views meet in conversation. I always walk away from those encounters with reinforced certainty of: my POV is as it should be, everyone gets to be exactly who they are, and I am easily okay with that.

Oh, Julian*, you were so right.

*Julian of Norwich – “All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.”

The Acute Divide of Me

Published on by Boneweaver (aka pjvj)2 Comments

I remember a time when my online persona was such a good match for my offline persona it was a bit disturbing. Somewhere along the years of Facebook I have lost that. I don’t know if it’s the medium, the horrors of menopause, or I’m just more careless and quick to answer with my words, or all of these, but it is something.

I started shifting this in January, smoothing some of my edges, but not stopping my desire to spotlight issues of social injustice. It worked for awhile. Then it didn’t, then it did. I’ve all the right reasons in my head, but then it slips and I don’t even notice at first. In person I notice quickly. (I’ll give ya sometimes I’m clueless, but that is unusual, not typical.)

I was being quiet more, with spurts of RAWR, but I didn’t shift enough internally. I was choosing where to post what, hidden from much of friends list, with the occasional two day outbursts on my timeline. Basically I changed where without changing how. Which is duh, but there ya go, I was being duh. I wasn’t feeling this shift in my body and for me that is an important piece to permanence.

Today after visiting a hospice patient I felt it in my body. Like huge I felt it. Not the shift, but the gulf between the state of grace I am in when I am in service to the dying and the state if non-grace I am in a place like Facebook. How I am face-to-face in my community where my hands fly around, my eyes are bright, and my face lights up with passion when discussing things. When I discuss all things, from SJ to how the squirrel wiggled itself up a tree. It was core blowing how acutely I felt the divide between the two places I am “seen”. And it was unnerving. And humbling.

My wish is that I hold this state of grace more purposefully going forward, in all my places. That I try to do better. That I will do better.