A Cleansing

 

snowy skies

 

 

In rainwater soak

Leaves of birch chopped fine

Into it coarse salt pour and

Mix with almond oil

 

 

Strip down bare

Even if cold

Leave not a thread

Even if cold

 

 

As thorough as ever then

Wash your limbs

Wash your body

Wash your hair

Rinse in running water

 

 

With salted birch and oil you then

Scrub your limbs

Scrub your body

Scrub your hair

Rinse in running water

 

 

Afterwards

Clean new clothes

Chamomile and honey tea

Sleep and be reborn

 

 

snowy skies

 

 

 

Still here, still waiting

I woke up in the darkness of night with a funny feeling. A funny wet feeling. SHIT, I thought, I’ve started bleeding.

So I hopped up to the bathroom to check. No blood. The wetness, I don’t know what that was, something clear/white. Perhaps remnants of the pills I shove up there three times a day, hormone stuff to make things uh, better? I really don’t know what it does. The clinic never really said. They just gave pills and said here, use these. And I’m a good girl who does as she is told, at least in this context.

My lower abdomen aches as it so often does right before I start menstruating.

I don’t think I’m pregnant this time either.

 

 

On a brighter note, remember the blade I mentioned buying? I held a little ceremony last night to symbolically tie it to myself, make it mine and only mine. Even beforehand I felt energy rising, and once it was time I was just in the right mindset.

It wasn’t dramatic. But it was beautiful. Even though I was a little clumsy in certain aspects of the procedure, it went well and left me with a feeling of calm certainty and strength.

It also made it clear to me how much I have to learn. Not through books and articles, but through doing. I learn the most there, at the shrine or during meditation and ritual. Not merely trial and error in a practical sense, but in a spiritual one too. Each experience allowing for a step forward. I  am curious to see where it will lead.

Acquiring a knife

I have known for several years that I have wanted to get a knife. A ritual knife, to be exact. Oh, and if you just stumbled onto this blog without knowing anything about me, let me just calm any potential concerns with a clarification. The knife is absolutely not for harming or threatening people or animals. I have wanted one for ritual use, that is mostly symbolic, and potentially practical use in the sense of perhaps cutting herbs. Nothing sinister, don’t you worry.

With that said, back on track! I’ve wanted a knife. I know a lot of pagans use ritual blades that are purely symbolic, that don’t actually have a sharp edge, but this never felt right for me; I wanted one that was real. And I wanted one that felt just right, picked out by me and used only by me. Not a regular family tool but my own blade.

A couple of weeks ago I finally found what I had been looking for all these years. It was instant love.  I mean, look at it! (I ordered it from BlackBeardShop on etsy, if you are curious you should definitely go check them out. )

 

 

I ordered another type of knife for my darling husband, but since that’s his alone I’ll not be showing off those pictures here. But if you are curious, check the one called Kingsman in the BlackBeardShop.

 

So, now I have my knife. Finally! I could not be happier with it. I just wanted to share that with you all, there’s really nothing more to say at the moment. So for now, toodles!

What’s the point? – Ritual Tools and Stuff

Over the years I have made, found, and bought a number of items that I would classify as ritual tools and stuff. (Yes, that’s the word I’ll use, live with it!) Some can easily pass for decorative pieces, and some may even be cheap mass produced stuff found in thousands of other homes as well. Some are more expensive, and some are hand made by me or others. It varies greatly.

I might be talking about a little bowl. Or a basket. Or a knife. Or a candle. Or a jar of dirt. Or perhaps a little figurine.

Practical tools and decorative pieces, anything and everything. What they all hold in common is that they hold meaning and purpose in my own ritual sphere. It’s not about how pretty something is, or how expensive. It’s not what anyone thinks about it. In fact I often prefer to keep these things entirely out of sight to avoid anyone having an opinion about them whatsoever. Questions leave me awkward, I still do not quite know how to speak of them. Writing is easier, so here I am.

Candles, yes I have candles. One for each deity I approach. One for the ancestors. Others for specific purposes. These are perhaps the most common, and the most scoffed at. It doesn’t matter. To me the candle is a focus to guide my mind and a symbol of intent.

Bowls, plates, cups. Practical tools I use mostly for carrying offerings. There is nothing wrong in using a regular kitchen plate for this, but for me personally having special items for this purpose is valuable. Again it is not a matter of what looks cool, it is a matter or intent. Of focus. Of what meaning I give it.

Some items were unplanned. Sometimes in a shop I will spot something that stirs my mind in a certain direction, towards a certain deity most often. If I can I might then buy it both as an offering to said deity, and as a tool in future rituals – seeing how its very existence reminds me of Her, Him, or Them it becomes a strong practical symbol.

A practical symbol, hah. Sounds weird, doesn’t it?

But symbols are to me practical. They hold meaning and I use them. Sometimes the symbolism aligns with greater cultural contexts, sometimes the symbolism is only my own. Both are important, I find.

An hourglass to be the physical representation of time.

A mirror.

A knife.

A flask.

 

My collection may seem strange but for me, every piece makes sense. Every piece has its use. Don’t mistake it for vanity, it is not about buying the cool and pretty things. Don’t mistake it for meaningless mysticism either, it is in fact very meaningful. Don’t mistake it for peer pressure, I honestly don’t give a fuck what others think of it, my own ritual tools are for me. Besides, my friends are mostly the sort to just laugh at these matters anyway.

 

A jar of ashes.

A set of runes.

A wooden staff.

 

Practical tools. Symbols in physical form. Focused intent. Meaning. That’s all.