This seems like such a morbid subject. And maybe it is. It’s something that’s been on my mind lately. I’m observing the Parentalia. A Roman festival where the gateways of the dead are opened to the living.
When our ancestors are honored with banquets, prayers, and other offerings.
Of Death
In the last week of the Parentalia, the Greeks have the Anthesteria (blossoming rites) sacred to Dionysus. Anthesteria has a touch of the chthonic in it. I have been meditating on the dead everyday. On people I have lost. Friends and mentors.
Relatives. Animals that I have loved as children. It’s not all because of the Parentalia or the Anthesteria. It’s also because I have a health scare. I am too obese for my height.
And I am hypertensive now. And pre-diabetic. I gave my mother a good scare today. All I could think of was, if I died today, how will she and my dog be? I’ve been suffering from low blood pressure lately. And I’ve been having these throbbing headaches.
I keep thinking about something my Druid master had been teaching me. I have studied death midwifery as part of my necromancy. I’ve been helping the dead since I first came into my power. Protecting them from predatory spirits. Assisting them with crossovers and also aiding their living families.
After all that, I now realized I should have made a will for myself. And paid a for my own funeral. There was a wise Santero. His wife and him were both masters of magic. And well known in some parts of Miami.
My mom is the nurse that goes to her house to assist the doctor there. She learned this man had paid for his own funeral years in advance. So that by the time he actually died, it would be paid in full. And his family would be okay. He was buried in all honors like King Tut.
Which leads me to other things. To how the ancient Egyptians believed that preparation for the afterlife was so important, you had to dedicate part of your life towards it. So what seems morbid to others is actually preparing for the next life. Necromancy isn’t some morbid fascination with death. It’s the celebration of life and continuing it and even conquering death.
Or at least living with it in a way that doesn’t scare anyone. But now I am thinking I need to set up a living will. I don’t really own much. But I need to make sure my things are taken care of so my family doesn’t have to do it. I need to ensure that my spell books and idols go to someone who would appreciate them.
Preferably someone who wouldn’t abuse them or separate them. Or sell them. They are a family and belong together. Some of them are spirits I made friends with. They need a new friend and caretaker.
Furniture and clothing to go to someone who needs it. And finally, rituals done. Funerary rituals done for me. And a 13 day purification ritual done on my home so that the spirit of death can be chased away. And my family can live in a clean and cleansed home.
In my case I don’t want or need a grave. I want to be burned. Most Cubans I know want that. Most people regard corpses as empty shells that have outlived their use. For necromancers not so much.
We understand they can have all manner of uses. But I don’t want or need someone digging me up (no I haven’t done that). And I don’t want my shell. All I want is for the ashes to be tossed somewhere and that’s that. Not even kept.
I have heard there is an environmentally friendly use for ashes now. It’s a way to contribute to life. No, I am not suicidal. I am worried. Worried that if something happens, I’m just not ready for it.
I mean if I passed away tonight, none of you would know it. I don’t have a contingency plan for it. I realize now that I need to make one. And entrust several people with how to send out the message should it happen. And not just for here.
Old relations that I have fallen out of touch with. To make sure they are aware of me gone. To get a network of people to do special prayers and rituals on my behalf. To ensure I cross over. And of course from different religions because that’s just how I roll.
To reach out to certain women I have loved in my life. Who I didn’t treat the way they deserved. To tell them that I have passed. I have been trying to make amends lately for being such an asshole in the past. But I have been unsuccessful because I lost touch with so many people.
It’s really hard.
Of Life
by Easheta Shah
I have been thinking of some ex girlfriends, and realized they really did love me. But I was incapable of truly loving them back. Because I didn’t know how to. My father wasn’t a good role model. Between cheating on my mom and also being an abusive prick who even stalked her.
All of my examples of a “healthy” relationship were patriarchal and sexist shit. Do I even deserve to be loved? I had it before. And I sneered at it. Mocked it. Abandoned it.
Betrayed it.
Which is why I deserved what I got a few years ago. Someone I wanted to marry, left me. She said,
“I can’t be with someone who is so angry with life,”
And she was right. In the end she did us both a favor. For her sanity and mine. I get it now. But back then I didn’t.
I lost everything I worked so hard for in just three days after our breakup. I lost the respect of my peers. I lost my job a few months after this. I lost my will to truly live my life. I lost respect in the eyes of certain relatives who told me, that my reaction was “unmanly”.
That figuratively speaking my manhood was taken away by my ex.
She basically insinuated that I lost some of my worthiness by falling apart. That I should have just let her go and move on. I couldn’t believe this person told me this and thought it was helpful critique. I didn’t know what to say to that. Which is why I didn’t even bother telling any of the male relatives, it probably would have been worse.
I ended up a thousand dollars in debt to the hospital. Turns out heartache in general feels suspiciously like a heart attack. My purpose in life was to help build us a life. I wanted her to have all of her dreams. But me taking the caretaker role was probably sexist to begin with.
Maybe she didn’t want that. Maybe I was being domineering without meaning to be. I don’t know. All I can think is that I lost myself somewhere along the way. And then lost her.
Of Dreams at Night
I keep envisioning my life alone in the future. With animals in an animal sanctuary somewhere off the beaten path. There’s this man on a Greek Island called Takis. He gave up everything to save the dogs of Crete. Guy was a nightclub promoter and he gave it all for them.
And now he has a massive land in the middle of no where with animals he saves. He gets up at dawn and works until 2am everyday. Did I say alone? Never mind. Fuck that shit. Maybe I wouldn’t go that far.
I would get bring many homeless people. And we would have a commune. And the work would be divided between a night shift and a day shift. That way it would work around the clock. We would grow our own food.
Be Vegan so we wouldn’t kill animals. Heck maybe a bunker. Why not? If some idiot presses a button we could at least survive. I’d love to just have a Mount Weather style bunker within a mountain. But I would want it to be like the Dwarf fortress in Lord of the Rings.
Some badassery right there. Maybe invite others and grow a community. Scientists and mystics, hippies and free thinkers, and artists. Librarians with every book you could imagine. These are things I often dream about but have not done.
So much I want to do. But right now I need to focus on keeping my health. And on making special plans in case something were to happen to me. Florida has become too insane even by Florida standards. Now we have road rage shootings.
Now you have to be prepared for all things.
These are just some of my thoughts at night. I lay awake in the early hours of Saturday morning. Afraid to go to sleep in case I not wake up again. The worst part? Not having romantic love. I have familial love.
And the love of my dog and friends. But you need other types of love. Someone to warm your bed at night. To lay next to and tell you everything will be okay. A true partner to adore with all of your heart and soul.
I relish that love that I took for granted once.
How I wish I could have it again. How I wish this loneliness would just die and leave me be. How could I feel so alone in a city filled with 455,075 people? I wish I knew the answer to that.
Adventures of A Mage In Miami 