Turtles and Crown’s Symbolism of Them.

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Today my turtle decided to come out and play.

Background information. I have a box turtle. His name is Tama (although everyone calls him ‘Turtle’) and he’s just over seven years old and is lazy. Now, I’m not talking about lazy compared to a human or a cat. I mean lazy compared to other turtles of his species. And he’s always been like that. There’s nothing wrong with him. He at one time shared his container with another turtle but we never got a new one after the other one died because he seemed happier. He has a huge rabbit cage he lives in all to himself. He likes his turtle pellets and occasionally will eat the vegetables and fruit we provide (which we do, constantly, but he rarely touches the stuff.) Really, he likes his hide-away cave and to be left the hell alone.

Today though, I was walking by to talk to the Necromancer about E3 and the turtle was out and about in his cage. Looking for delicious food, mucking about in his huge water pond, and generally being active. This is surprising because I haven’t seen him for about two weeks. We check, daily, to see if he’s alive. We change the food and water. Weekly we switch out the soft coconut we use for cage cover. But it’s something of a marked occasion when we see him come out on his own.

Because I needed to clean his cage anyway, I took him out of his home and checked him over. I don’t know a whole lot of detailed anatomical information about turtles, but I can tell whether or not they’re healthy or need a vet. He was active, alert, and wanted to be put down. So I put him on the ground and he wandered the living room while the cats watched him from a distance.

Why am I talking about my turtle?

Mostly, because I really love turtles. I find them easy to manage and great pets to keep (if you’re willing to put in the work and expense for them). I don’t use turtles in my witchcraft but I really love symbolism for what they stand for (to me).

What symbolism? Longevity. Quick to hide and seek shelter. They have a hard shell which they are connected to but are so soft inside. They don’t carry their homes with them, but at the same time they do. Their homes are literally a part of them; they can’t be parted from them. They wander, always attached to their home, but bury themselves in their homes as well. The original wandering hermit. Always alone even in a group.

To me, turtles are wise, determined creatures (and they are determined little buggers). When they set out for something, they stick to it. Unless a predator is coming towards them, they do not deviate from their paths and plans. They don’t move just laterally but climb too, and they soak in the sun (I have a great love of the sun) and the heat.

Omnivores, depending on the species, they’ll consume insects, fruits, vegetables, fish, and even some meats. (You can feed turtles cat food, for example, depending on species. Best ask a vet or herpetologist first.) Turtles can make this hissing sound and can snap or bite when they need to. So while they might defend themselves by pulling deep into their shells, they’re willing to attack too. Turtles tend to be able to camouflage themselves and are great at hiding (not just in their shells but in the environment). They are slow to move but sometimes they’re quick little bastards. (I’ve personally spent several minutes chasing turtles around the living room.)

Brave little creatures, I’ve seen my turtle look directly at the cats and keep on trucking as if they weren’t afraid of this huge creature willing to eat them. (My cats leave him alone. Bothering the turtle never ends well for them when they’re caught at it.)

Turtles frolick. They do. A land turtle, upon discovery of a pond of water, will frolic. They’ll frolic when placed outside. They have fun and play.

I associate turtles with divination, although why I can’t say as I don’t use turtles or turtle shells as a divination method. Possibly due to the hermit idea that they could spend a lot of time in deep introspection.

Now, as I listed above, I have my own symbology for each animal. Some of it based on the animal itself or what I associate with them. Some folklore or historically based. Some of that symbolism is common, some not so much. I tell all my students to consider creating their own symbology for animals as they go. It’ll help discover the meanings of dream, visions, and in general is incredibly useful for divination.

Witches, Jars, and Burying ‘Em

[Witches, Jars, and Burying ‘Em tumblr repost June 4th, 11pm]

I can’t be the only one that sees how many witch jar spells tell you to bury said jar in the ground and winces. Why? Because reasons, that’s why.

Don’t roll your eyes. Read on.

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Here’s a few reasons why burying all the witch jars you make can be a pain in the ass:

  1. It can break. Broken glass can eventually make its way to the surface and that barbeque you’re having can turn into a trip to the hospital. This is especially dangerous if the glass was coated with or holding poisons, rust, metal, or other harmful materials.
  2. Finding the jar again. Let’s say you want to undo a spell. Or you just need to find the damn jar after you buried it. If you didn’t mark it, you’re going to be playing the guessing game on locating it in the earth.
  3. Too many jars makes for a full garden. Think about it. Bury six jars in small space then try to plant a garden over it. You can do it, absolutely, but that’s a lot of earth being taken up for a spell.
  4. You’re burying a perfectly good glass jar. I hate using glass jars for spells. I prefer to use and reuse glass jars until I can’t any more. By can’t I mean they shatter, are given away, hold poisons, or contain a smell that can’t be dispersed.
  5. It isn’t your land. (Maybe) You’re renting? Live in an apartment? On campus? Maybe you shouldn’t be burying shit in places you don’t own a deed to.
  6. Someone else could dig it up and find it. And how much would your plan suck then?
  7. Glass doesn’t decompose. Technically called devitrification (if I remember correctly) only some glass actually “breaks down”. In this process, the glass crystallizes as typically seen in art glass, crazing, warping, etc will occur before the glass actually becomes so fragile it will break. This occurs over long periods of time. Some types of glass can be broken down with chemicals such as hydrofluoric acid. But most glass we use, such as silicates, don’t break down naturally.

So what the hell am I bringing this up for and what am I suggesting otherwise? Because I find a lot of people are bottling things up and shoving things in jars as a matter of course. It’s just what you do. And, that might be personal practice and belief coming into play but it’s not necessary. Easy and convenient but not necessary most of the time (from what I can see).

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Ask yourself this when gathering ingredients for a spell:

  1. Does it need to be buried? Does it really? Are you sure? There isn’t some other way to solve the problem?
  2. Is this a short term spell? Maybe burying it in a potted plant is better.
  3. Does it need to be liquid? You can soak herbs in vinegar, hot sauce, protection oils, water, etc. without needing to fill a jar. It might even be easier to soak said herbs then leave them for the spell’s target to stumble upon. Hell, you could even spritz some vinegar/water/oil/etc on it and it would probably work (depending on your paradigm and all that).
  4. Does the spell need to be contained? Sometimes spells don’t need to be contained. Sometimes you need them to leech into the soil, earth, and world. If it doesn’t need to be contained, perhaps you should try putting it in a paper bag or a “biodegradable” bottle (most of these aren’t fully biodegradable and don’t do it in five years as advertised so keep that in mind) Jars contain things. Why would you put something in a jar if you want it to get out?
  5. Is it a funeral? A lot of the time I see “bury this” spells is because you’re suppose to be given it a funeral. If you aren’t doing that, then you may want to rethink burying it.
  6. Is it a secret? I don’t bury my protection witch jars. Instead, I hang them up. I put them on display. I let the world know this place is protected. Besides, it also serves as decoration. (Obviously, if you’re in the closet or the spell has a secret purpose, this isn’t an option).
  7. Will some other container make do? I paper bag half my “bury this” spells. Especially if they don’t contain liquid. And the ones that do sometimes don’t need that much liquid. Instead of shaking the jar, I’ll shake and squish the bag instead.
  8. Can you reuse the jar? One your spell has gone off, are you willing to dig up the jar and use it again? I’m not talking about the ingredients. I would bury the organics and bring the inorganics to a recycling station or dump. I’m talking about the jar itself. This comes down to personal belief and practice. I go either way on it personally but to each their own.
  9. Does it need to be sealed? Many witches seal their jars in wax. Why not make a container of wax instead?  Or seal a paper bag or whatever. It’s still sealed and yet you’re not burying glass.
  10. Does it actually need a jar? Many jar spells don’t need to be jar spells. It’s for convenience. You can pour hot sauce or vinegar over paper to curse someone. You don’t always need to stick it in a jar.

I’m not talking about just curses. This applies to ALL spells. And sure, I still make spell jars. It’s easy to make a jar. It’s harder to deal with a spell when it’s messy and everywhere. And I’m not saying everyone should suddenly not use jars. But I hope this little spiel has given at least one person a second’s pause before they reach for that glass jar and consider an alternative.

In the end, this is going to come down to personal practice, personal belief, and convenience. Do what you do and I’ll do what I do.

How My Youngest Brother Learned I’m A Witch

[A repost from tumblr: How My Youngest Brother Learned I’m A Witch. Early May, 2013]

Today I went over to see my father the Warlord and returned some of the books I borrowed. He decided he needed to feed me and served up some lasagna while I visited. As he’s setting up to make dinner (which I wouldn’t be around for) he asks me what the rest of my plans for the day were.

“I’ve a shit-ton of asks to answer on my blog.”

“Asks?”

I shifted how my head laid on my upturned hand. “Yeah. People send me asks about things. Witchy things usually but all sorts of shit sometimes.”

“Like what?”

I tap open the tumblr app and summarize a few public ones. We get to talking a bit about one of them before he turns from cutting potatoes and said, “There’s a lot of spirit ones there.”

“Well, yeah. It’s something I specialize in, I suppose.”

“Have you ever tried talking to your great grandmother?”

I shake my head without moving it from my hand. “I don’t tend to work with ghosts. Non-human spirits. I already don’t like people. Why would I hang out with dead ones?”

He turned and points the knife at me. I don’t bother to take offense. We tend to direct each other with pointy objects on a daily basis. “Your great grandmother’s a ghost. Your great grandfather said that if anyone would come back, it would be her. She haunted the [house both he and I grew up in]. Your uncle and aunt saw her too. She’d come out from the door as if there was still a wall there, go around the table, and come down the hallway to stare into the kid’s rooms.”

I only nod. I’ve heard this story before many times. “I remember you telling the story. I saw her too. Or, well, I saw something. It was when I was in that front bedroom. I saw something huge – taller than you Dad – and white block out the light in front of that door. You know how that light always emitted a yellow color right? Whatever it was was brighter than that.”

“It couldn’t have been your great grandmother. She was a tiny thing. Smaller than you. Could have been my grandfather though.”

“Ah. Well, I don’t know what it was, but it block out the light. I was so surprised I just pulled the sheets up over my head.” I laugh. I remember being no more than eight when the sighting took place and being more startled than scared. It was always something I believed had happened and could never disprove. I never bothered telling anyone about it usually. It was a ghost. It happened. I saw it. End of story.

B.A.D, my little five year old brother comes in, holding a worn, dilapidated checkers box. “You saw a ghost?”

“Yes. At least I think it was a ghost.”

“Oh. You should ask brother. He’ll be able to tell you whether or not it’s still there.”

I hide it well but I’m surprised as fuck and impressed. Yes, my brother the Necromancer could very well tell whether or not the rumored ghosts are still there. I could too, if I bothered to. However, no one in the family owns the house any longer and thus there was no point. But how the fuck did a five year old know about my brother? He rarely ever speaks of it. I don’t even think my father knows about my brother’s abilities.

B.A.D however continuous as if he didn’t just drop a fucking bomb of information on me. “I’m not afraid of ghosts!”

I laughed. “You’re afraid of dogs, bees, and wary of girls but not of ghosts?” (When the Redhead disowned herself it caused emotional trauma for my youngest brother, already there from my step mother’s less-than-stellar parenting. The boy just didn’t understand that not all of his sisters or girls will abandon him.)

“Nope!” He said quite loudly, proud of himself. He flashes a smile. “I see them all the time.”

I’m not sure whether he meant on the TV or in real life. Either way, it doesn’t matter. He babbles on for a few more minutes and has me laughing.

“How about witches?” I ask him. I keep my smile easy, not teasing but friendly. While the question seems innocent, I don’t want to scare him off.

He blinks slowly, processing the question and for a moment I worry he didn’t hear me. He has hearing issues sometimes and I am about to voice the question again when he shakes his head. “No, I’m not afraid of witches.”

“Oh good. Because I’m a witch.”

I watch his eyes grow fearful for a moment then doubtful. I know I don’t look like any witch shown on Scooby-Doo.

I continue, “I really am. It’s my job. It’s what I do.”

My father comes around to the table and readies the chicken and rice for my brother’s dinner. He doesn’t look at me but instead makes eye contact with my brother. “She is.” He confirms.

That’s enough for my brother. He thinks on it for a few more moments before nodding, “I’m not scared of you either.”

I smile. “Good. I’m nothing to be scared of.”

Rambling Dreams

I dreamed.

After spending many hours drinking I returned home to dream.

There were two of distinct memory.

The first was of a bear. A black bear, likely the American black bear to be honest although I’m not much for recognizing species by type. A bear is a bear including all that entails being a bear – a dangerous predator and a fierce mother.

In the dream a bear had wandered into the house. For those who are unaccustomed to bears, this does happen in real life. Maybe not as often inside the house but they are often found wandering in suburbs, even in Rhode Island. This bear was not causing havoc and really was just being inside the house. Sort of like if a squirrel or bat had gotten inside. In the dream I fetched out a thin metal staff with a hexagon shaped top to it, carved. Dull steel though the curves and arches of the head’s design where sharp despite the roundness of the head. With this I gently nudged the bear around to get it to leave. At one point, the bear had said fuck it and rolled up in a pile of laundry, half covering itself to sleep (why there was a pile of laundry in the corner of the living room I have no idea but let us not question the machinations of dreams shall we?)

Then the dream is gone. I have no idea how it ended. I know there was a time difference. I believe I woke up (I never sleep fully through he night, constantly waking and falling back to sleep a dozen times in a few hours of rest). Eventually I went back to sleep and this time dreamed a bit more bizarrely.

In this dream, I was half-lucid. I remember thinking thoughts that my dream-self did not but I did not bother to try to control the dream. I let it play out as it liked.

I was speaking to a council. I was me, dressed for business. The council of politicians were on screens but I was speaking and on the floor with schoolchildren. I spoke of abuses that in the dream I suffered but not have personally done so in this life. Malnutrition  physical abuse, ignored by the system, given back to a father that loved me more for being a punching bag than for being his child, and a mother who was absent or dead. I did not know. Abuses I have not suffered here but my dream-self had.

I relayed the story of my abuse to a roomful of children and the politicians far away and yet seen on-screen. I spoke on how the planet Pluto had given me back to my father instead of saving me. It is implied that it is not the not-planet or even the deity Pluto that is being spoken of but rather a government. I spoke on how we should be saving the people, the children, and not our petty differences. How we should focus on saving cultures and not combine religions (there was another part to the dream, less remembered, where two religions similar but not the same where being combined to save trouble and costs. The texts were written in  Japanese, a languages I once knew very well but have since forgotten from lack of practice and use. I remember being surprised in the dream that I knew it at all and realized that perhaps I have not forgotten as much as I had thought but instead have it buried behind many other thoughts and knowledge that it takes too long to remember when necessary. Either way, it is something to ponder about later and not the point of this post.

My speech moved the children and councilors alike. Some had to flee the room, so impassioned it was. Some of the older children had paperwork for me to sign, perhaps it was a way they were voting or would have if they could have. I’m unsure. A girl came up and hugged me, she did not know her mother either and felt my dream-self’s pain.

And then it all went away and I awoke. I have no idea what to make of them. This is not the first time I have dreamed of this bear in my house. I believe I will fall back to folklore and symbolism as much as I can without cultural appropriation to see what this may mean. I’m of the belief that dream interruptions is fairly useless unless you have a personal symbolism dictionary for the things you saw in your dream. For what I attribute to bears might not be what others do but in dreams it’s all about what I see, what I feel, what I think. Such as it is.

Anyway, that is what I dreamed. Fueled by day of alcohol and sleep.

Practical Applications of Astral Projection on This Plane

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So I’ve been working on an original fictional story that involves the Traveling and practical applications thereof. Yes, really.

But first, before I get into anything, a little personal definition time. I personally use the terms “astral projection” as projecting yourself out of your body but remaining in this plane of existence. You are here but not in your body. When I say “astral travel” I’m referring to Over There, the Other Side, etc. Again, these are personal definitions and are certainly not universal.

I briefed over it before on tumblr but the lack of response I received there was… discouraging. Still, I’ll explain.

Let’s say you astral project. You take a cruise about the world, dick around in a marketplace you’ve never been to before in a country you only hear about in the news. You chase a bunny up a mountain path and stop short when you realize the trees are bent funny. Intrigued, you fly up (because what’s the point of astral project if not to fly? OK, there’s lots of points to it but my statement stands). Below you see a small airplane, crashed into the rocks below.

You explore the site a bit and discover that some of the plane’s passengers are still alive but are hurt. What do you do?

There’s several options.

  1. You can ignore it. Don’t look at me like that. I find most people would ignore it. People don’t like to get involved. And with Traveling and Projection it gives you an out. After all, how are you going to confirm it? What if it’s all in your head?
  2. You can inform the authorities. Prepare yourself for disbelief, suspicious  and most likely to be ignored. You have no facts, no evidence, and saying “I saw it in a dream” doesn’t go over as well as TV shows lead you to believe.
  3. Go and find them yourself. This would work if you a) can do so b) can afford to and/or c) are willing to.
  4. You can manipulate or feed the data to someone. This is my preferred method of dealing with this sort of thing. I’ll find someone in charge. A police chief, a respected townsperson, military official. (Careful here. I’ve been seen before while Traveling by some military folks. I have NO idea how but I wouldn’t put it past militaries to have some sort of technology that can actually read our presence. I’m still playing with the idea that EMF detectors and other ghost hunting paraphernalia can record us while Projecting.) Either way, I enter their dreams, whisper in their ears, and convince them to follow the trail I’ve left to get help. I’ll literally haunt them (nicely!) until they do as I want them to.

There are other practical uses as well. Want to know if a shop’s going to be open? Pop down in spirit and check it out. Want to know what your kids/lovers/family are up to when they’re not home? Follow them in spirit. Want to spy on your friends for laughs or enemies for blackmail? Yeah, you can do that too.

Astral projection has tons of practical applications. It can literally be used as a preview to the day and can be hugely helpful in life.

How so? Lets say your boss is being an ass. He’s just being a complete asshole.  Harping on you, singling you out, embarrassing you in front of other people, etc. He’s made co-workers cry and others quit. You’re at your wit’s end. So you follow him and discover that he spends hours of the day looking at porn on his work computer. More investigation shows that he does lots of shady transactions. A quick anonymous tip to HR later and he’s being investigated. Perfect.

Let’s turn that on its head. Lets say you follow you boss and discover he’s going through a terrible divorce. Maybe his spouse was abusive. Maybe he just lost custody of the children. Maybe he sits over the divorce papers and cries into his whiskey because he still loves his spouse and the life they had and he can’t understand why nothing’s working out the way it should.

Now you can explain to your co-workers that he’s going through a rough time. Bake some damn cookies, offer to help. Make a gesture to show that he doesn’t need to take it out on the world, on you.

All that, from Projection.

It’s also great for witchcraft. You know that son of a bitch neighbor that you really just need to move the fuck away? You can spy on them in spirit and discover an accessible personal item to curse them with. That co-worker that keeps hitting on you? Follow them home in spirit so you can place hot foot powder to steer them away. Explore a path in a nearby park to see if there’s any herbs or plants you need for your collection.

There is so much you can do with it and from what I’ve seen it’s utterly underutilized. Possibly because so many witches focus on the spirits and the exploring of the other side they don’t focus on the actual traveling portion of it. The experience, the adventure and freedom being in spirit causes.

And his eyes fell upon me….

I’m godbothered. I don’t speak about it much because I’m really very serious when I say I do not work with gods or spirits. I sometimes work for them and they sometimes work for me. But being godbothered means that I am literally bothered by a god. I can say no (and do, often) but they always return. The attention is uncalled for and many times unwanted.

The god I’m speaking of in my case is Heimdallr. According to Heimdallr worshipers He’s rather hands-off and aloof. This was confirmed by my own dealings with Him. We played cat-and-mouse for years. I’ve felt drawn to Him but refuse to worship a being at all (for reasons). I don’t even have a place for offerings for Him (although I intend on in the future, an outdoor public thing; offerings would be rare on my part though). Over the last year He told me He wanted me to be His seer. I took a long time but eventually agreed when terms were finally hammered out. I still don’t work with Him or worship Him, but I will be His oracle, when necessary. Rarely do I hear from Him. But today as I did a reading for a client.

The client in question is a Lokean so it isn’t surprising that Heimdallr decided to listen in, so to speak. I drew the cards out and interrupted them and as I was doing so I felt that floating sensation I get when I know I’m being dragged to the other side. I’m being beckoned elsewhere and there isn’t much I can do to stop it.  (Not that I would. I don’t tend to get dragged over unless there’s some shenanigans happening in my territory that I need to handle or someone wants to talk to me and it’s easier to do it there than here.)

I finished up the reading, saved it all because the internet’s been wonky due to summer storms (and now I still can’t send the reading because Etsy’s down at the time of this writing) and went to sleep.

Dreamless sleep. Odd, considering I was being beckoned over but upon reflection, it’s better to sleep first then wake up and cross over. You’re less likely to fall asleep while traveling and scientists have stated that lucid dreaming occurs most often when you wake up and then go back to sleep again. Which means that it is also true that it is easier to cross over when you wake up and go back to sleep.

By the time I awoke, His eyes had passed me by. I have no idea what His intentions where or why but who can know the gods’ minds but themselves?

Ah look at this shiny new space~!

Okay, so this isn’t actually new. Or particularly shiny. It is, however, empty. Over the next few months I will be filtering in blog posts from my tumblr blog of worth or relevance. I’ll be going backwards, so the older posts will be put out first. I’ll keep them in categories and tags so you all can find them more easily.

Before anyone gets panicky, I’m not leaving tumblr. This website has always been intended to be used as a backup to tumblr and an archive for all the decent post I’ve written over there. Now I think I’ll also be publishing posts made exclusively here or expounded upon from a tumblr post I’ve made. If I do expand a tumblr post, I’ll link it so you can follow along.

Out of curiosity, is there any sort of posts you’d like to see or things done with this website that I don’t do on tumblr?