The last dark moon was hard for me. My depression and anxiety always seem to get worse during the holidays. This is no festive season for me. I have long given up fruit cakes and resolutions.
I spent my evening in contemplation with The Rager and Old Crow.
After gifting The Small One to whom she belongs, another came. For now, I call him The Rager, in honour of Sobekh. His skull is polished, and lacquered, His teeth are sharp and perfect. Looking closely at his wily smile, makes me grin as well, it is like a tickle climbing up my spine.
More than a week later, I dream of more bones, skulls new and bleached, others reddened in order to provide them with life force. Bones are walking. There is another dead rat I have found in the garden, most likely dead due to that revolting practice of poisoning- no care for the torturous death given to the rat, and the secondary poisoning to cats, dogs and owls. I bury this one as well, maybe his bones will come back to me…
We have had some drought relief, thanks to the rain. I give water to the ancestors, I thank them, I thank The Rager, I thank the spirit of the rain. I pour Cane and offer The Devil’s Portion of alcohol infused fruit. I continue these small practices, and yet my depression is like a thick fog which makes everything seem less…
I read the cards. This is the year of fire and will. If my will is clouded by the smog of depression and anxiety it will push me back into places which leave me hollow and empty. I cannot allow that to happen. The Witch’s will is powerful, we are weavers and renders. The Rager is both creator and destroyer, protector and wild, dangerous mother.
“As a transcendent, you had to return
And claim the fire that made you burn”
While most Cunning gods and beings use their kenning to bring us fire, the Crocodile, will use his cunning to devour us, for he is hungry, and filled with primal desires. He lives in two worlds, the land and the water, and as a liminal entity can help us to access the otherside.
Appearances are deceiving. The water is still, and it seems safe to walk near the rocks and floating logs. But then there are teeth, and then there is water, and then your lungs are filled with fire, and as you kick and struggle, you become weaker and lose consciousness as you are spun into the depths.
For many beings there is no escape, The Rager will get his pound of flesh. These are dark lessons.
“How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!
How cheerfully he seems to grin
How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in,
With gently smiling jaws!”
The rain comes and gives the land some relief, but trees fall as they succumb to the sudden wetness or the intense lightning. There is always a price, sometimes it is a sacrifice willingly given, sometimes it is not.
*The Executioner- Ted Hughes