This has been one of the most frustrating fallow periods which I have faced in a long time. I have spent nights staring at my altar, and although I continue simple small rituals of offering- flowers, the lighting of candles and incense, the collecting and laying of feathers on my shrines, I feel each gesture is analogous to me accidentally cutting my knee with the razor while shaving- The blood is there, but only as a result of chance and accident.
Of course I do not believe that things are necessarily coincidental, or accidental. I believe that everything that happens or does not happen is the result of the warp and weft, the ebb and flow of the grander pattern of which we all form part of, therefore all seemingly random things are not so much random as they are things that come about due to other things that may have happened or must happen.
When a feather, of particular vibration, beauty, or colouring happens on my path, I pick it up, because although I know that there are hundreds of feathers surrounding me at any given time which I may not notice, the one that caught my eye is the one i must pick up. I pick it up because I recognise it as part of an important conversation which I am having with the Avian spirits. It is the reason that despite the fact that I am struggling along my path, with the God Phone’s battery being on the fritz, that when I see my altar candles and they are not lit, that I must light them. It is the reason why I still burn the incense and waft it about, why i still lay flowers on the altar.
I need to remind myself that the gesture is not empty. I am not doing it for no reason. I am doing it because I have a duty to fulfill- I have a conversation to entertain; it is part of the process. The Spirits are there; they are in the candle flames, and the flowers, they are in the feathers and air. I breathe in spirits and I exhale spirits.
Ted Andrews in “Animal Speak” reminds me that when there are many owls there are many rodents, and the rodents thrive during a good harvest… And the Owls are here.
It is because the Owl is in my life that I realise that this isn’t just any normal fallow period, the fields look bare on the surface but there is something else going on…
It is now the time of Summer’s end, where we dig back to our ancestors, clawing the earth with our nails. The Veil is thinning and the stars on the Otherside shine brightly in our hearts.
I have been having this vision, on and off for the last few months… We will be riding in the car and all of a sudden I see Hekate, she is surrounded by hundreds of black dogs. I am pulled completely into this space, like being pulled into a dream and the vision leaves my heart pounding hard and fast in my chest.
Then there are my dreams where a moth-locust creature is caught in my hair, and in my effort to get it out I see a cut on the top of my hand. The cut is oozing with brown muck, and in that brown soupy substance are eggs. Is this horror, is this hell, or is this a call to arms, to action?
“7 Days of Samhain” is a blog event on The Purple Broom which will be in its third year this year. I do not know where i will be going with it in light of everything that is happening, or has not been happening but there is one thing which keeps me alert…I know that the Owl is here.