Shelby’s Eulogy

My good little boy in better times.

I have been dreading writing this post since last month

I didn’t want to because it made Shelby’s passing too real for me. That my friends, is why I haven’t been posting blogs on weird history or the Occult. Why I haven’t been writing about my favorite books or new things in my life. It all seems so empty right now. Last month, I went to get my very first shot of the Pfizer vaccine.

It was a short walk from there to my house. I went to the Navarro store near me to be vaccinated. I had learned that they were providing the vaccines for everyone. All you had to do was make an appointment. There was no waiting period or list like these other places.

CVS pharmacy had recently bought Navarro and now they were making the vaccines more accessible. When the woman had made the appointment for me in the waiting area, I thought it was my lucky day. When that day finally came, I left my home and walked there. Sheldon my other dog is younger. And he always gets nervous if I leave them alone for too long.

But I had this strange feeling of impending dread inside of my stomach. For some reason I felt that I should come back as quickly as possible. It took me a while because I hadn’t known I needed to be in a call in sheet. When I was vaccinated I had to wait to make sure I didn’t get any adverse reactions. But that same nasty feeling came back.

Something was wrong and I knew it. I don’t know how, the closest I can describe it is like this. When parents sense their kids in danger or vice versa. I don’t know any other way to say it. This was deeper and stronger than any feeling I ever had.

Like I wanted to go screaming from there back to my home. I didn’t know why, in fact I tried to ignore it and said oh that’s just paranoia, there’s nothing wrong. But I couldn’t shake this feeling. So I just said fuck it, and went back home. I wish I had listened to my inner voice sooner.

Maybe it would have made a difference. Maybe it wouldn’t have. I found Shelby in the middle of the apartment. He had crapped all over the place. But his stool was mixed with blood.

And he couldn’t move. He was paralyzed. I saw a trail of blood and feces near my bed. Shelby would often walk near my bed to make little crying noises. So I could pick him up and put him in bed with me.

He had been looking for me while he could still walk. And I wasn’t there. If I could go back and skip the vaccine. If I could have just waited until after that day. I blame myself again and again thinking that if I had been there, this could have been prevented.

I started shaking like a leaf. I called my mother to come help me. My friend George was calling up animal groups like crazy to help. But all the vets wanted serious money to help Shelby that I just didn’t have then. My first choice is an animal hospital that I will not mention.

Because I don’t want to be in legal trouble nor do I want to be unfair. Because they have helped lots of people. But I paid $33 dollars a month for a year. So he could have healthcare so that in theory, when he needed their help, they would help me. But they all said they couldn’t help him because I needed an appointment.

And any surgery or treatment would have cost thousands of dollars. So why the fuck was I paying these leaches $33 a month since last year for?

They told me I needed an animal emergency room. But they cost even more. So after begging these people and telling them I would even sign a legal document. That I pay them back. And they all still said they needed money upfront.

Dirty fucking leeches. Ghouls, feeding on the pain and suffering and death of animals. Then they get angry if someone calls them out on it. I know the reality that they do help and that funding is very scarce. I know it’s not their fault society as a whole abuses animals.

But they’re certainly contributing to that abuse by denying such a basic and necessary care to people who can’t afford it. My dog’s paralysis grew worse. He no longer had the ability to move or control his facial features. By the time a single good hearted Vet answered my call, they told me not to bother.

“Is he still releasing feces and blood by any chance? Does he have a really bad odor?”

I said yes.

“I’m sorry sir. But your dog is dying. From what you’ve told me, it could have been an aneurysm, a stroke, or even a heart attack. Dogs that old are more susceptible to health problems. If you brought him here, you’d be wasting your money because there’s nothing to be done except to put him down.

And we don’t have those services here. You need to ask a shelter or some other place that handles it. I wish I could have been better help to you. You can get a second opinion, but it’s doubtful,”

In that moment, my whole world was shattering before my eyes. For someone who doesn’t know the love of an animal, that sounds ridiculous. Childish even, the product of one who has a childish mentality. I refused to accept it. But when my mother, a nurse in the medical field came, she only confirmed what this vet had told me on the phone.

She even told me she believed for some time he would die soon. She had suspected for weeks now that he was going to pass away. Because he seemed to be more sentimental and wanting to spend more time with us. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He was so well in the morning.

He had a hardy appetite. He was an old little dog, but very energetic. And I loved him as much as I love Sheldon. My little old man. My old baby.

Mi Chiquitin (my little one)

The Techichi Dog, the ancient Mexican ancestor of all Chihuahuas

Years ago, I had a nasty depression

And I prayed to the Gods to send me a companion. One day, my uncles were moving something from my old house. They brought us some washing machines. I was still living with my sister and mother at the time. And I noticed this tiny nose in the doorway.

I opened it thinking it was one of the cat’s outside. Instead it was my first dog, Sheldon. He was a puppy, abandoned and scrawny. And scared and hungry. And alone.

My sister and I convinced our mother to let him stay. The original plan was to find him a new home. And at first he really didn’t like me. But as soon as he saw me get the leash. And we had our first walk, he became my baby.

He never left me. And I knew the Gods had heard my prayers. Sheldon had been with me for years. My faithful companion. One day we took our usual afternoon walk.

I’d either finish working. Or if I got home early from college, I’d be studying my spell books. And Sheldon would start crying and motioning to the door. Which meant it was time for our walk. We went on our walk and we saw this tiny little chihuahua.

He was elderly. And I learned from my neighbors that he been out in the sun without food and water for a day. I had a suspicion that a family who lived there had abandoned him on purpose. I wanted to save him but I couldn’t get close enough to him to grab him. I kept telling myself that I tried and it was time to go home.

I knew I couldn’t have another dog. But Sheldon was glued to the spot. He walked on his hind legs and looked at me with his soulful eyes. He cried out with such a mournful and compassionate cry that I knew I couldn’t leave. Sheldon had reminded me that apathy is what makes the world a bad place.

Evil only exists because people don’t care enough to fight it. We live in a society where it’s everyone for themselves. And compassionate people are seen as weak, naive, or losers. I knew what Sheldon wanted. We walked towards that elderly little chihuahua.

I still couldn’t grab hold of him. He was afraid of other people. But as I had suspected, he kept gravitating towards the apartment of the family I had suspected abandoned him. Especially the backyard. I remember hearing a chihuahua growl at people from the backyard all the time. I suspected he was that dog.

Because the backyard was empty. He would run from me. But not Sheldon. Sheldon would lay on the ground and Shelby would come to him. I knew this family had a lot of chihuahuas.

They had recently gotten a new dog. And I guess this baby was sacrificed for being old. It took me five minutes to get him. I finally grabbed him when he laid down next to Sheldon. At first he tried to fight me.

But I kissed him on the top of his little head and said,

“Tranquilo Papi,” (calm down papi)

He finally did calm down. I took him home and my Mom had the classic we don’t need another damn dog reaction. Uhuh, that didn’t last very long. I put him down, and he started exploring the whole house. My Mother just said,

“Look at this little thing, walking around the house like it was his already. Where do you think you’re going?”

(Her Room lol)

My Mom had given him a bath. And she said he had a panic attack.

“This poor animal has never had a bath in his life. I’ve seen dogs who hate water. But this was different. It was like he didn’t know what a bath was,”

He was extremely malnourished. If his insane hunger to eat anything he could find wasn’t an indicator, the ribs out of his stomach told us all we needed to know. I did try to contact the family, and to inform them that they needed to take better care of him. But they wouldn’t even come to the door. I left a note with my address and number and they ignored me on purpose.

Whenever I would call Sheldon, he would come too. I think he thought I was calling him. So I named him Shelby. Everyone kept giving me shit saying it was a girl’s name. But I’ll have you know that Shelby was a man’s name as late as the 1920’s.

Not that it mattered to anyone else. I think some people figured I was trying to make a political statement (facepalm). Shelby ate dog food for what I think was the first time. That family had him living on whatever scraps came from their table we suspect. At first he didn’t recognize it as food.

I had to hand feed him at first for months. Although I admit I spoiled him feeding him things I probably shouldn’t have. We used to laugh and call him La Piraña, the piranha. He ate with such a gusto, that it was like watching a little person. Even Sheldon had moments of looking at him like You know you’re a dog right?

He slept the first night, that Friday on my arm chair. I don’t think he was used to air conditioner or having a soft place to sleep. As I was getting ready to shower, he hopped off the chair and went looking for me. As soon as he saw me next door in the shower, he went back. As if he just needed assurances that he wasn’t alone.

I remember how he lived in that yard alone for years. The only dog out there. And despite them having other dogs, I think they kept him alone. He had a weird stink and his teeth were rotten. My Mom thought he had mange or some other skin disease due to his odor.

He didn’t, it was just his anal glands that needed to be secreted. That was a Friday. He had wondered into my Mom’s room and she had made him a little bed in the corner. And she was pointing and saying “Miralo que lindo!” (Look at him how cute). Ha, didn’t want another dog eh?

The next day, we all doted on him. Even Sheldon, he had a new brother. We had a Vet come to our home to vaccinate them both and squeeze their anal glands. After just three days, Shelby had vomited all of these parasites out of his body. And that’s when he started to put on some weight.

In just a few days his little bony belly, became a chubby belly. All this had happened in just two days. That Saturday night, Sheldon decided he wanted to sleep in my mother’s room. And Shelby slept on my chair again. I was up watching a Paranormal tv show called “The Dead Man’s Gun” about a cursed gun in the old west.

And how it effects everyone it comes into contact with. When suddenly, Shelby hops down again, and walks toward the side of my bed and cries. He looked up at me with his soulful eyes. As if to say “Can I sleep with you?” and I laughed at how cute he was. How could I say no? I scooped him up into my arms and he slept in the bed with me.

He was so relaxed that he just laid down and stretched his little body. That was the first of many nights in a warm bed. And like Sheldon, he had any bed to choose from. My sister and mother would let him stay with them. He’s wake my Mom up in the middle of the night to take a piss, or drink water.

She called him the little old man. But there was a problem : he was scared of the dark. So she had to personally escort him with the lights on to pee on his pad. Then follow him to the kitchen so he could drink his water. At the time, we still thought he was just with us until we could get him adopted.

But months had passed, and he and Sheldon had become brothers. And my sister and I, and even my Mom though she wouldn’t admit it, thought of him as ours. I tried to get him adopted, but he looked at me and cried to go home. I couldn’t do it.

I saw those assholes that abandoned him once. I was walking Shelby, but as soon as he saw them, he turned around. He was like “Nope! fuck you,”It sounds funny, but his reaction was like that. He stopped and turned around so abruptly that it made my head spin. Yep, the puppet was a part of the family now.

He lived far longer than anyone expected him to. He went from being shy and fatigued, to having the energy of a puppy. My sister showered him with gifts (that Sheldon kept trying to steal). The first time he saw his first toy, a little blue duck, he had no idea what it was. He acted as if it was a smaller animal.

And he cuddled with it and protected it. He was the only non violent chihuahua I had ever met. So sweet and calm. He was loved for so many years. And he made us laugh.

I remember that somehow he opened the zipper on my sister’s purse and pulled out a cracker she left in there. That little dog could eat. My Mom nicknamed him Hambre Vieja (Old Hunger). I remember he used to be afraid of going up the stairs at first. But after a while, he would run up the stairs with such joy in his heart.

And we would play and watch tv together. We never cured him of his insatiable hunger though. But when we did feed him from the table, it was never anything that compromised his health. I used to laugh when people dressed their dogs up. But Shelby he every kind of outfit you could imagine.

My sister bought him a stripped prison outfit and even a shirt that said, “Don’t act like you’re not impressed,”

Heaven gains another Angel

My Poor Baby

Shelby was breathing erratically. He had crapped and bled again, this time on my jeans because I refused to let him go. I kept him in my arms. I stroked his little head. Sheldon would walk up to us and start crying and kissing his brother.

Sheldon was the reason Shelby was in our life. It was only fitting that he was here at the end as well. I cried and cried for hours, trying to keep the deep sobs inside. I didn’t want to worry either of them. And my mother also didn’t want me to cry.

Years ago, when things got really bad financially. When I could not longer support my family because I lost my job. And my small business failed, I had a break down. I didn’t go crazy or anything of that nature. Though no doubt the skeptics on this blog who have read my accounts or my beliefs think my brain was fried long ago.

I had a seizure and had an emotional breakdown. It happened because there was no food in the house. And I saw my mother cry. And I felt so guilty. So useless.

Since then, I suppose she treats me with silk gloves. You have no idea how hard that is for me. To go from being the responsible son who cared for his family‘s needs. To being treated as if I will break easily at the slightest sign of pressure. And that’s the hardest part.

If I could cry, scream, or be alone with myself, I know I will be okay. I could simply release the lent up emotions. But I don’t have that luxury. My family would flip a shit if they heard me wail like I did that day. I have this…..storm building up inside me some days where I want to cry for hours.

And I can’t because this damn place has no privacy. That’s what I miss the most about living alone. I could be alone with just my dogs, my spirits, and my Gods. And I could be okay. My friends don’t understand it.

I’m sort of like an urban hermit. But I go sometimes months without speaking to friends. When I’m busy with magic, or when I need to meditate. Hell or when I am reading, writing, or anything else I wish to do. I miss having that space to myself again.

Between the nosy ass neighbors here and the thin walls, it’s hard to do anything without someone else listening in. I feel trapped inside of my own sorrow. My one consultation is Sheldon. He keeps me stable. I had to control my grief because he seemed to be depressed as well.

For a few weeks now Sheldon has barely been able to eat. He lays around most of the time staring at the place where Shelby’s bed used to be. But when I feed him he does eat. I hold him in my arms and talk to him gently. I let him know that it’s all alright.

People say animals don’t know anything. But they do. They’re smarter than you would think. There was even a case of a parrot with the intelligence of a 10 year old boy. And as sure as the sun rises, he knows his brother is dead.

He mourns with me. I know this will sound like an exaggeration. But I feel Shelby’s loss as if he were truly my son. And in many ways he was. Animals are like children that never grow up.

No matter how big they get. So psychologically at least some of the same feelings are there. And I spend everyday of my life caring for Sheldon and at that time Shelby. My mother told me to lay him down in his bed. She cleaned him so that no matter what, he could be at rest.

She kept saying,

“Papi, stop holding on. Let go,”

He heard me sob again. And I don’t know how this little dog did it. Because he was paralyzed already. But some how, he took the last of his strength to move his head and turn to me. I kissed him on his head and told him I was okay.

A friend of mine from my Greek Temple put it best when he told me “He was carving your face into memory,” before leaving. I threw away my soiled clothing. And showered. I had prayed to every God there was. Those of faith have feelings about which Gods to pray to sometimes.

A little girl who was sick needed healing. And I prayed to Yemaya and she was healed. A friend had once prayed to Freya to find her lost cat. She just knew that Goddess was the one to help her. Well, I believe in and worship every God of every pantheon.

I’m initiated into different religions. But I’m also eclectic and work in my own way. I do a sort of inclusive ritual of every culture. And one of the Gods came to me. It was Jesus.

Yes a lot of my friends are flipping their shit at that sentence. But remember, some of our ancestors used to throw Christians into Lion pits. Just as those “polytheists” do not represent our faith or our Gods, many of the “christians” don’t represent their God either. And the Jesus I know and believe in, has never made me feel bad about worshipping other Gods. In sharp contrast to his fan club.

There was a period when I felt he wanted some more worship. I was so engrossed in my worship of other Gods. I think he wanted to be close again. So I became a Christo-Pagan. Anyways, I felt his presence near me.

I couldn’t see or talk to him. I just felt his energy. As I bathed, I said,

“Rabbi Yeshua, please free my son. Let him die peacefully. Release him from his pains and all his sufferings. Please sever the chord that binds the soul to the body. Give him peace, Amen”

I continued my shower. When I got out, my mother told me he finally fell asleep. When I found a vet who could euthanize him, I got a surprise. My mother knocked on my door to tell me he’d already passed. I gave her the phone and ran to his lifeless body.

That rancid smell, like acid and rot was all over him. I cried my eyes out. And I petted his small head one last time. Sheldon let out a cry too. But we didn’t let him lick Shelby’s head due to germs.

We collected his body. She washed the floor with bleach. Someone came to collect his body. He was still wearing his little shirt. And I struggled to release his body.

I knew it wasn’t him anymore. Just his shell. But knowing he was still wearing his little shirt. Just to be cremated and disposed of was killing me inside. And then I had to suck it up.

Because my mother was family began to worry. And that’s it. I haven’t entirely allowed myself to deal with it. It’s been weeks and I carry this on my soul all the time. I entered the traditional 13 day mourning period of the Ancient Greeks.

During this time, I was ritually impure. I covered up my altars. And I spent my time in prayer and contemplation with the dead. I prayed to Oya to take my dog to the other side. And each mystic I knew was also doing rituals to different Gods to cross him over.

I have dreamed of him since. And felt his presence among my guides. His energy is strong. And the knowledge that he is no longer in pain helps me. He has gained entry into the ethereal realms.

Those places where death and pain cannot truly enter. That and that Sheldon is with me are my only consolations. I’m trying to let it go. And to release the pain inside. Shelby, this is my attempt at immortality for you baby.

When my guardian altars are up again, I’ll put your picture in my guardian spirit section of my altar.

I will try not to remember you as you laid dying in your bed and in my arms. I will remember you instead as the happy, sweet little dog I called my baby. The dog who finally found a family who loved him as he deserved. Who always had every comfort we could give him. Good night Pupper,

Tales from the Continent: The Business Man Pt 2

After my client Alvaro told me everything

I needed to know (or so I thought) I decided to do a little divination. Nothing he told me made sense as to why someone would want to hex him. I knew he was holding something back from me. And I wasn’t going to stick my neck out for him. I took this job because I needed the money.

He was hesitant at first. But then he agreed he would give me a good donation (which also turned out to be a lie). He did go into detail about the strange hauntings in his house. A feeling of “phantom weight” he always seemed to carry, but didn’t know why. And his infant son would scream his guts out in fear at night.

At first he told his wife that it was normal for babies to be scared at night. But then he got the strange feeling that someone was inside the baby’s room. He said he thought he heard a deep voice speaking within the room one night. And a few times he had the feeling of being watched. I hate cases with kids involved.

The situation becomes more volatile. So I took a few weeks to plan and meditate. I also broke out my old spell books and charms and started experimenting with what I should do. In the end I opted for necromancy.

He did eventually tell me part of the problem

And boy was it a doozy. He went into a haunted cave at night. When he was younger he said that he went with a few friends there on a dare. The local folklore says that witches go there to do Black Sabbats. Obviously not good witches.

Or even normal witches. These are what are known as Hags. Now everyone has an opinion of what a Hag is and I want to talk about this for a second. In regular traditions a Hag is just a witch. In fact it may have been a word that the word witch evolved from.

From Haegtesse, the term Elder Hag is often used for an elder witch. But as is the case with many words and terms, there is a positive and a negative connotation. In Christian or semi Christian traditions, Hags are either demon witches. Or in the case of the Appalachian mountain people in the US, human practitioners of black magic. I understand many of my witch brethren would find that disrespectful.

Regardless, even in the South amongst the original slave populations, they had stories of Hags. The most famous being the Boo Hags. Specifically the Gullah culture talks about Boo Hags. The idea is that these were once human witches. But they delved so deeply into the practices of black magic that they eventually developed demonic powers.

They themselves becoming demons. Now I refer to such people as Demonists. In my personal practices those are witches that are beyond a normal warlock (unethical practitioner). This is another class of black witch altogether. Then there is what I call a True Demonist, someone who actually succeeds at becoming a real life demon while they’re alive.

Something which to me is rare. In that category, I put in the Native American Skinwalkers. And also the Penanggalan of the Philippines and Malay culture. Hags of this kind, the demonic kind, can be found in almost every culture. But the term also refers to positive Goddess or spirit beings as well.

So it’s important not to get it twisted. It’s important to know that this is a word that could be positive and negative. But in this case it was the negative. The demonic types of Hags are said to be the children of the Demoness, Lilith. Before she was the demon of Jewish lore, Lilith was a Sumerian Demon Goddess.

Tied to the storms and also to infant mortality. she was said to take the shape of an owl woman. I should make a post dedicated to her one of these days. But anyways, in Latin America, there are many such creatures like that. And sadly in this guy’s country, there are infestations of such beings.

As a former monotheistic Christian I used to think these were tall tales bred from superstition. But after I began to practice and learn from other people, I started to realize these were real modern accounts. Skin Walkers for example are a type of demon witch. That’s why many Native Americans have such a stigma about being called a “witch”. They associate it with unethical practitioners of magic.

Granted that’s largely due to European Christians drumming the idea that a “witch” was evil into their heads. Some more colonial brainwashing at work. Getting back to the topic, this guy said he didn’t believe in such things. He thought it was BS. So he goes into the cave to impress the girls.

Everyone in that little town he visited says that night Hags use that cave. These women shape shift into owls (again the connection to Lilith). They are so familiar in their owl forms that owls are seen as demonic animals in this country. Indigenous shape shifting witches like this exist all over Latin America. Once inside, they all smelled this godawful stench.

He said they had found these large brown paper bags that were bloody. Flies were everywhere and in some cases there were maggots protruding from these bags. These are probably sacrificed animals. They also found strange things he found hard to describe. And finally, he said they found a large Saint statue with its arms broken off.

I instantly got a flash in my mind from my spirits. And I learned that the statue had held some kind of dark spirit. In witchcraft, a popular method of exorcising a spirit, is to draw it out of a place or person and then send it into a vessel. Sometimes holy icons or idols are used. And sometimes when a dark entity enters an idol, the idol gets partially broken.

And even dark practitioners do exorcisms. For clients or sometimes even when they summon something or an entity goes out of line. And they have to trap them somewhere. Though I also think the statue was purposefully desecrated. So I ask him,

“Alvaro, by any chance did you get too close to that statue?”

Then he gets very quiet. Clears his throat and says,

“Well… I was young. And the girls thought it would be funny if I took a selfie with that statue,”

(Jesus Fucking Christ)

So it became apparent that the “phantom weight” wasn’t just whatever Sanchez had done to him. It was whatever he had absorbed from this statue. It had probably been haunting him for years before Sanchez. And he only began to notice it years later. I had my work cut out for me.

I had no idea where to start

So I decided to do a time honored tradition. I went to the dead. There’s a random roadside memorial where I used to live. Some guy whose name I will not mention here out of respect for his family. I became friends with him a few Halloween’s ago.

I didn’t have a cemetery close to me, so I decided to leave him offerings instead. I used to walk past his memorial on my way to a local mall. I left him a chocolate cupcake with a birthday candle that I blessed. I lit the candle and left it to him. Then I heard “Gracias”out loud. Now at first I jumped half way out of my skin, because I thought it was a living person who said that.

It didn’t sound psychic or telepathic. I realized then that this was a powerful spirit. I could tell he was loved. The memorial is filled with things including a cross made of plastic flowers. I turned around and said, “De nada amigo” (don’t mention it friend).

After that, I started visiting him a lot more regularly. Leaving him money in the form of pennies. So that he could buy things in the afterlife. I left him food and poured him libations, sometimes I left him Piedra de Alumbre (Stone of illumination). It’s not really a stone.

It’s this mineral thing we use in Santeria. It’s like a rock but it dissolves in water. The spirits of the dead eat it when we place it in sacred water vessels on their altars. In his case it would break into pieces until it became dust. I came to him for help.

I poured him a libation. Then I sat down with my cell turned off, pretending to be texting someone. I’m pretending that I am waiting for a car or something. He’s clearly amused by this and says,

“You must be really desperate to be making a long distance phone call like this,”

“Very funny,”

“What’s up?”

“Take a look and see for yourself,”

He enters my mind. And it feels like someone stuck a psychic USB drive in there. I can feel him looking into my memory I want him to see and hear the conversation for himself. Then he starts projecting images in my head and talks.

“This man here, Adonis, is a problem yes. But your client has other problems,”

He starts showing me all these shadow people and shadowy things all around him. It’s like a zoo of dark things. And he says,

“No offense, but you couldn’t find someone more trustworthy than this guy ? He’s even got a small portal inside his body. How much do you want to bet that he’s played with a Quija Board?,”

I was going to say that he didn’t seem like the type to own a Ouija board. But then again what do I know? I’ve never even seen this man before. We only talk via internet.

“What should I do?”

He stayed silent for a few moments then answered.

“Ask your new guide, the one you got from the Palero to deal with this. Ask him to bring an army of the dead to fight off what’s there and cleanse this guy. It’s not fancy, but it’s effective. And it will take care of this problem,”

I waited till there were almost no cars. And I buried 9 rusty pennies in the dirt near his memorial and said,

“I pay you (name redacted) in the name of Oya. Thank you for helping me. May this money given to you be an investment in your afterlife. May you never be poor. And instead always carry prosperity with you for all your needs,”

A random car came back and some lady saw me burying the coins and talking in the direction of the memorial. Fuck my life. All these nosy ass Karens in this area watching everything you do. It’s getting to the point that you can’t even fart or piss in a bush without one of them noticing. She was still staring while the car went away.

So I scratched my balls in front of her. The look of disgust was so funny that I busted out laughing. I could barely walk home from the laughter. I think most of the cars passing me by thought I was crazy or drunk. Well, I talk to dead people so maybe one of the two allegations was true.

I came home

Showered and ordered some take out. As I waited for the Chinese food to get to me, I decided to give a primary offering to Hestia. In Greek Polytheism she is the Goddess of Hearthe and Home. I also included in this offering Elegua Agbanukue, the Household version of Elegua. Who is also a God that watches the home and protects it.

I started naming the various Household Gods one by one. And the spirits that protect the home as well. I poured some olive oil in their honor. Then I sat back on the couch and rested my eyes for bit. I realized I should probably talk to my Palo guide. I got up and sat in my red chair.

I took his idol out of the Altar I have for native spirits. Even though he is a guide connected to Palo Mayombe, he’s the spirit of a dead indigenous man. I made eye contact with the idol and said,

“Hey friend, do you have some time to talk?”

I could feel him talking to me. This is a very different kind of spirit. Paleros use advanced spirits. Even their ghosts are stronger than the normal ones. He spoke not as a voice, but as feelings.

He was asking why I took so long to call on him. He was basically scolding me and telling me he was here to help. If only I would accept such help.

“Fair enough,” I replied. “I’m asking now,”

I could have done the psychic usb thing but I was tired. And when I get tired, images and information is fuzzy. So I took the time to speak to him the old fashioned way. Anyone watching me talk to this statue in my hand would have thought I was crazy. But the spirit within that vessel is very real.

He told me he had “brothers and sisters“ he could call on. That in Palo they were all one. And they would work together to help me. I bowed down my head, kissed his statue and said,

“Bless you sentinel of the home,”

Then I placed a bottle of whiskey on the altar next to him.

“I offer this to you and your Kin. It will be poured down at the crossroads when you defeat the enemy,”

After this was done, the delivery lady showed up. My family and I ate good food. Discussed our day (well I left our certain portions for obvious reason). And I hunkered down for the night. I sent Alvaro a message via the signal app.

We coordinated how we were going to handle this. We agreed upon a day, and off to work we went.

From left to right, Taino women representing the indigenous ancestors, center is an Adjule or African wild dog who is often seen as a phantom animal, and finally from Palo Mayonbe is Sarabanda, the great God of Smithery and Magic.

The final operation

I opted for sunset on a Friday. In many religions, there are times that belong to the dead. And all of those times as far as I have discovered, are at or around night time. In Santeria, the time of the dead is at Sunset. Nobody does readings at that time.

Or at least they’re not supposed to. Some Santeros I have met are so nyctophobic they wouldn’t even do Rosary prayers at night for a deceased soul. They believe Satan and his demons are all out around that time. I am one of the few Santeros who are not afraid. I had training in other religions prior to Santeria.

We did night time rituals and we learned not to fear the night. It is true that there are negative forces unleashed at night. But there are also positive forces. I learned about an exorcism ritual done by the Babalawos (priesthood of Orula) that was done for people who had spiritual attachments. It was called the Paraldo Ceremony.

The Babalawos did it at sunset. Because the Eggun (ghosts) or even demons would start coming out. The reason for this is because the spirit would be fully formed and out in the open. It would be easier to cast the entity out. But I wasn’t using that ceremony.

For one, because I’m not a Babalawo. Doing ceremonies without proper knowledge and authority is just asking for trouble. And two because I refuse to murder animals. No I am not a vegan. No I am not some kind of heretic.

But I’m one of many Santeros who won’t sacrifice animals. And that ceremony requires grabbing a rooster by its feet and smashing the head on the floor. This is for the evil to be bound to its body. If the poor creature is lucky it will die instantly. I don’t do animal sacrifices.

I know Pagans who still do them. And I don’t stick my nose into their religious practices. But I tell everyone no matter the tradition that I will not. But one thing that I did take from that ceremony, is using the sunset. I waited till that time to do this.

The enemy spirits will be fully formed at that time. But they won’t be that strong. The strongest time for the dead is actually from midnight until 2am, and dark spirits at either midnight or 3am. I have a good understanding of their power levels at various times.

At sunset they’re just waking up from a long sleep. It’s not the same level of lucidity and power as at other hours. This gives me the secondary advantage that after they fully emerge, they’ll still be dazed and confused. Demons and other wicked spirits don’t necessarily sleep during the day. But at night their powers are far stronger.

Which is why if I have to go out at night I carry amulets. And I shield to make sure no matter where I go, there’s nothing to follow me home. But at sunset they’re still just charging up. But they can’t hide nor will they try. They’re usually too overconfident for that.

And that’s what I was counting on.

I did a special ritual of protection. Necromancy with the ancestors. I can’t talk about the specifics or the name of the ceremony. But it kept me safe. I was surrounded by the protective energy.

And I brought out my Palo guide and asked for his help. Then I did a protective shielding prior to calling Alvaro. I did a few Hail Marys and Our Fathers. As well as some more ancient prayers for protection. Then I called him via the Signal App.

He was way too calm. People are normally ready to be done with this. He acted like this was just another transaction. Like shaking a hand or taking a piss. Yeah I really don’t like this guy.

I just wanted this shit to be over and done with. So we waited until sunset came. And suddenly there was a shift in the ether. I felt something on the other side of the phone with him. And I know he felt it too.

Though he seemed to enjoy playing dumb. I took a picture of the idol of my Palo guide. Then sent it to him via signal.

“This is one of my guides. Stare into the eyes of the idol and invite him to come to you,”

I got the distinct feeling he thought I was quemado. How do I say it? Burned out. He probably thought I was some kind of crazy new ager. But idol magic goes back centuries. My priest in the Hellenic Temple I attend, even told me about a form of idol divination.

I have seen people do remote magic or long distance magic with nothing but psychic abilities. What I do, is use the craft to remotely send out energy and spirits. It’s a more powerful way to do it. But Mr. Know it all didn’t know that. So he was surprised when he felt my spirit appear before him.

“I feel something in the room with me. I never felt a spirit like this before. I feel my third eye vibrating,”

He admitted that he knew enough about spirits to sense them. And to perceive them via the third eye. I wondered if he and Adonis had studied together at one point. Maybe they had once been part of a magic group. He didn’t even bother trying to hide it.

He probably surmised that I knew him by now. I asked him to connect with my spirit’s energy. I showed him how to do it. And then a massive explosion of energy occurred.

We both felt it. I felt forces coming from the four directions all over his country converging there, at his home. An army of ghosts. Indigenous warriors from his land. Spaniards.

And also slaves, particularly slaves who I think were Congolese. Even recently deceased people had joined in, an entire force of ghosts had now appeared. And these dark spirits around him were trying to fight back. He started talking about strange sensations.

“I feel weird,”

“In what way?”

“I feel an onset of relief, as if a heavy presence was released from me. And then that presence returns. It’s as if the relief is fighting the heaviness,”

What he was feeling was the dark spirit (heavy presence) being fought by the light spirits that were now there. I was seeing their energies combating each other. At first I couldn’t distinguish human features. They had gone to their purest form as energy.

The dark spirits were the smallest groups there. They appeared as balls of deep shadow. But the spheres of light numbered in the hundreds. And each had different colors depending on the energy they were using. Some were red, and I think those were soldiers or warriors. Others were yellow, and those were spirits who died of diseases.

The disease ghosts were absorbing all the dark energy that was in that house. Like a self eating cancer. I had been trained by a Wiccan teacher that dark spirits or dark energies could be put towards positive uses.

Now I was seeing in greater detail what darker energies, when put to a positive use could do. And these fallen spirits around Alvaro were dumbfounded. They had no idea how to fight back against them. They were outnumbered and out gunned. I was trying to keep my excitement down.

Overconfidence was a killer. As I had intended, they fully emerged with the dark. But they were still too weak to use their native element against us. With one final push, Alvaro described the heaviness forced from him for good. The relief stayed this time.

I did see a few spiritual doors close. He did have a small one on him that resembled a Quija board doorway. But that paled in comparison to all these larger doors in his home. In my mind’s eye I was seeing these beach ball sized vortexes floating in the air. I was going to ask him some more questions when my Palo guide spoke again.

Through empathy, he told me that other spirits were there too. Good spirits and a few neutral ones. Dead souls as well as nature spirits. They all occupied the same space. His property has become a free for all.

He did some kind of fancy ritual that he couldn’t control. And this had been the result. He had played with forces beyond his control. The haunted location he told me about and absorbing that spirit was just the beginning. And my guide also told me to not bother confronting him.

He had an answer for everything. It wasn’t my business anyway. Instead I told him that these other spirits I sent had to stay for the night. They would spend the twilight hours until dawn fixing everything. Crossing over spirits and dismissing others properly. The guide I sent also closed the doorway he had in his own body.

The other spirits closed all the other doorways. I told him to check his email. I sent him a list of instructions. I taught him a few cleansings and rituals. And finally I told him to get his property blessed by a priest after he had done these things.

By the time it was done, he had reported that not a single paranormal event had taken place in his home since all this had happened. All was well. That was the good news. The bad news is that Richie Rich skipped out on the bill. He claimed he couldn’t pay for my services because the times had gone hard and blah blah blah.

I was so pissed that before I lost control I told him that I had to call him back. Later I had a friend communicate with him that he had agreed to pay for services. And I had been more than generous with him. But he never contacted me again. All of my friends had told me to send all that shit back to him as payback.

But after all the trouble I took to remove it, sending it back just seemed like a waste. Instead I did a prayer ritual with the Gods and explained what had happened. They scolded me and told me I should have known better. But after they were done, they said they would handle it. I don’t know how they handled it.

I just know they never punish the innocent. So ,whatever they did or didn’t do, it would be just not unjust. I did end up getting something in return though. A bunch of obstacles and problems in my life left after the ritual was done. The Gods told me it was payment for services rendered.

The whole event left me tapped out. And I have spent the better part of this month trying to recharge and regenerate. That’s why it has taken me this long to write this.

I’ve had to slow down a bunch of things. And I’ve been taking long naps. Falling asleep near 7pm or 8pm like an old fart. I hope all of you will please excuse me as it’s going to be a while. I won’t be able to do a solid reading or work for anyone until I’ve regained my lost energy.

I apologize for taking so long to do that. One thing is for sure, I re-learned my lesson. Rich people suck. Unless I have a lawyer who compel them to pay up in advance, I’m not helping another wealthy person. I have better things to do than to deal with them or their demons.

Fuck them all. Just do yourselves a favor alright? Stay the fuck away from rituals you don’t understand. And don’t go to haunted locations for the fuck of it. That’s a stupid thing to do.

18 Year Raina Lynn Neeland dies saving young relatives

I actually heard about this young woman by accident. I was researching something online when I found an article describing her tragic (yet heroic) death. What’s worse is that the MAGA crowd seems intent on using her as a symbol for their hate speech against Black Lives Matter. James Woods even being so disgusting as to call the unarmed protesters violent and saying they should be more like her.

Yes we all should. And maybe Woods needs to start being like her by practicing humility and trying to help other people. Since she was a natural care giver and “Mama Bear”. The poor child doesn’t need people politicizing her death. What she needs is help to rest in peace, by helping her family.

So please consider doing whatever is necessary to donate money to her family. Burying a child is not normal. It never will be. So let’s try to help her family make this less painful than it already is. Please donate even a dollar.

#RequiemEnPace #RestInPeace #RIP #RainaLynnNeeland

From the @gofundme

“Raina was loved by her family and friends. Raina loved cooking with her grandma also she loved helping take care of her siblings and cousins Raina drowned saving  her younger cousins. All help will be going to help pay for all costs associated with her funeral and my family with everything. Sorry Im not great at talking about being in need but right now as we are all hurting from this loss of one of our young family members Thank you for all the support,”

-The Neeland Family

https://www.gofundme.com/f/raina-neeland?utm_medium=copy_link&utm_source=customer&utm_campaign=p_lico+share-sheet

Article reporting on her Death

https://m.startribune.com/heroic-teen-dies-saving-children-from-turbulent-water-near-nw-minnesota-dam/572147812/

– M

My Naming

So it’s official! I am getting named and wreathed on Saturday August the 8th at around 7:30pm.

So for those interested in attending let me know. But yes, Gods willing this will be done. And I can say good bye to my old life and hello to the new one. I will lay to rest the old year and begin a new on this (Hellenic) New Year, Ruled by Aphrodite and Herakles. I will finally be an initiated Greek Pagan.

All Praise the Theoi!

– M

 

 

 

The Green Dead

Abandoned Farm House Under the Milky Way (Reddit Group “Abandoned Porn”)

I’ve always wanted to write about this subject. It’s something I have only ever shared with one or two people. One of them being my Shaman. But yesterday I had a fascinating discussion with a Folklorist from England. On twitter he shared with all of us an image of a gothic cemetery from the Isle of Wight.

 

And then

 

So I posited this question

 

This turned into an interesting discussion where I shared some of my knowledge with him. And that led to an even greater sharing of knowledge.

What are the Green Dead?

In almost every culture, it was believed when you died, you didn’t go to a Heaven or Hell. What you went to was an alternate version of Earth. An Earth were the formless spirits on the other side of the veil dwelled. Now this is an almost Universal belief shared by cultures, most of which hadn’t always had contact with each other. Let me give you some examples.

In the folk religion of Japan’s Ryukyuan islands (interesting religion, especially for women). The Ancestors in that religion, the really Ancient Ancestors do live with the Kami (Gods) in either Heaven, Earth, or the Ocean. They specifically live in the “Ancient Age”. Let me stop right there. This also something common to many religions.

There was once a mystical era where the human and spirit world were the same dimension. The same multiverse. And for some reason it split into the physical multiverse and the spiritual multiverse. It’s believed humans back then were as divine as the Angels. Even Christians refer to this era as the Edenic Era.

They believe that Adam and Eve were immortal once. Similarly, the Aboriginal Nations in Australia speak of the Dreamtime, the era when the human and spirit worlds were one. But this era is so far away from our time that it’s become it’s own dimension. In Alaska that time is called the Taimmani by the Inuit people. It’s an interesting concept, but basically it isn’t just a time or era.

It’s a part of the human and spiritual world at the same time. A type of dimensional bridge or realm. Who knows what it is. But it is believed it’s a place so deep in both worlds that very few magic users ever reach it. I just wanted to take a small break to address that.

It’s fascinating that this period of time is talked about at length in many religions. Even if not specifically named. Some may even refer to it as mythic time. A time even more prehistoric than the dinosaur period (if it could be proven). Ancestors who aren’t primordial, but are still ancient live in the “Middle Age”.

All other relatives live in the “Present Age,” the Ages as you can see are also considered dimensions. Time and space is odd both here and on the other side. But basically, with the exception of the Primordial Ancestors, most ancestors and other relatives live on Earth and in nature. Present Age ancestors actually even live as house spirits for their relatives. House Spirits are normally nature entities.

But in many cultures, the dead co-habitat with the living as protectors. Or as spirits of the hearth and home. Such as (some) of the Lares of the Household in Roman religion. We see other examples. In African religions from the traditional Yoruba and Vodoun Faiths, the dead are a part of nature.

When I mentioned in my post “preparing for death” the Itutu Ceremony, I had mentioned that initiated Santeros or Yoruba practitioners always opt to be buried. Never cremated, because the body is food to nourish the Earth. Even in death, Nature plays a part. Even in Native American cultures, the dead were connected to nature. In fact in many faiths on Turtle Island, there is sometimes very little distinction between a non human entity and one who is human.

The Aztecs for example, believed dead warriors reincarnated as Hummingbirds. So the connection between nature and the dead is there. In fact, it was the prevalent world view for centuries. Only with the coming of Christianity did we see a spirit world that was mostly dark and gloomy. With everything being a fiery dark Hell or a fiery dark Purgatory.

And only in some occasions did we see a Heaven for ‘good’ souls. The Yoruba of Nigeria believe that the realm of humans is Earth. And that it is natural for our souls to be here and to want to reincarnate here. So it makes sense that the Dead are at least in some way connected to nature. Even in monotheistic religions, Adam and Eve were made from the dirt of the Earth.

In a sense we are all related to the fae. So perhaps our souls go back to it’s original form prior to whatever made us mortal in the first place. But then why are so many ghosts messed up then? Why do some go to a Hell and others to a Purgatory? And yet more to a Heaven?

I do have some theories, but nothing conclusive. But anyways I have introduced you to the general concept of the Green Dead. Or at least my personal concept of them. So now I am going to tell all of you a story. A story about a haunted house in the woods of a Southern State.

The Green House

I think it was an investigation that took place in Georgia or Alabama. But the truth is, it’s been so long that I no longer remember. This isn’t a creepy story at all. It’s a beautiful one. It’s what started my interest in studying the Green Dead. Once, I was part of a paranormal organization.

An alliance or coalition of various groups, known as the NPS. We used to have this facebook group. I have no idea if it’s still up. And different groups would share posts of evidence on there. They would post images of locations and information on them.

Well, this one group, decided to investigate a series of abandoned homes out in the sticks somewhere. Places overrun by nature in some cases. And there was this old house in the woods somewhere. And it had a green fungus in some parts. But there was something else about it.

Even in images, it exuded a powerful spiritual aura. It felt……Green. That’s the only way I can explain it. The energy was alive with earthly power. The power it radiated was alive and warm. There were dead people yes.

But goddamn, that power felt more alive than anything I ever felt before in my life. As a necromancer I am used to the dead. I feel their energy like nobody’s business. It’s usually cool or cold or damp. But I’m telling you that ghosts had never felt so alive before.

They seemed to be ghosts who radiated nature energy. And they had powers over nature too. I could feel that they had gifts, things that aid them to rule or control nature. There were other beings there too. Faeries and other Earth based entities.

But they seemed to be a mishmash of various groups living in concert with one another. And yes I use that word un-ironically : they Lived with one another. Now, because of this, different mediums and psychics had various opinions of what types of entities were living there. And the investigators themselves had said the presences they felt and experienced seemed off. And they asked a bunch of us psychically gifted people to look into the evidence they found.

I hadn’t expected to find too much more than had already been explained by others. Still, they decided to sequester us in various individual chats. They asked us to not talk to one another to keep it professional. And not to share our opinions on the forum. To try and stamp out cross contamination.

We all agreed on the terms. I don’t know how many were actually called on to do the remote viewing sessions or divinations. I have no idea the specifics of what the others said. I will only speak of what I saw myself. I saw that many spirits had inhabited that place.

Among them were ghosts, and various species of fae. They were all living in what appeared to be a commune made up of the spirits. It seemed that since the property was so long abandoned, entities of the land took over the house. And they shared it amongst each other. It was truly a beautiful sight to behold.

After telling them what I saw and felt, they had told me it made sense. Apparently half of the sensitives had said these were ghosts and the other half said they were fae. As far as I know I’m the only one who said both. But for the very first time (but certainly not the last) my concept of the spiritual world changed and was challenged. And from then on, I began to learn all that I could about the Green Dead.

And whether or not this had been explored before in ancient cultures. Later as I learned from such Folklorists as this man on twitter, it turns out that yes. The ancients have talked about this. That for instance the Celtic word Sidhe (pronounced “she”) a word for both faeries and the hills they often inhabit, is used in reference to the dead. Banshee for example, are women who died in child birth.

They arise from their graves to warn others of death. The word shee here is the same as the word Sidhe. In cases such as this, the dead are identified with a type of faerie or spirit of nature. Maybe another time I will revisit this. But for now, I think I shared more than enough of my theories and the folklore and experiences that shape them.

For you to get why I believe in and experience this type of dead. But remember, will-O’-the-wisps are supposedly a type of Faerie in the form of a ball of light. They’re called Ghost Lights. Maybe it’s for a reason. 

 

 

Malocchio

The ring of fire eclipse we just had on the New Moon in 2020.

Malocchio is Italian for “evil eye”. In Spanish we say “Mal de ojo” which is the same thing. An evil inflicted from a dark gaze. A gaze full of hate directed at someone usually due to jealousy. Now, this has nothing to do with an evil eye, or actually let me take it back.

It does, just not in the traditional way. Another family member has fallen dead. This time my cousin. Her daughter called me in the late hours of the morning to tell me her heart had apparently stopped due to a medication she took. When she and her stepfather found her, she was already purple in the face. After this, I decided enough was enough.

I have written to several of my masters, from my Hellenic Priest, to my Godmother in Santeria, to a Native American Shaman who helped train me. I am also going to consult a Babalawo from Nigeria. Something isn’t right here. Initially, my teachers had all said that I was looking for meaning in what appears as senseless deaths. But all of them are now checking in to see what’s happening.

Another sad reminder that whenever I allow myself to doubt my own instincts, I am always sadly proven right or partially right in the end. I knew something was off when my grandma died. But I didn’t let myself hear my internal voice. And before my cousin died, I saw strange visions.

 

A week before my cousin died, I saw visions of a statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe. Her image was in the skies, floating in a storm cloud. I saw this for a whole week but I just didn’t feel like going out to divine again. And find out what the hell was happening again. I just didn’t want to.

I’m a necromancer. I work with the dead all of the time. I know and accept that this is a gift. And I do cherish it because it has helped me prepare myself, my loved ones, and others for hard times. In a sense making it easier.

But what I wouldn’t do for the power to stop something from happening for once. So now, to the point, what does all of this have to do with the title? Well I decided to soothsay for myself. And what I got was that the ring of fire new moon was more than just a cthonic time. It was more than that. I was told about ancient times.

How the ancient cultures spoke of evil spirits coming in through new moons and especially eclipses. An eclipse is a sort of astrological death. What happened is a convergence of energy. The new moon combined with the eclipse. It was a very bad sign.

I knew this since I saw all the things that align together in my last post. But this was far worse than I knew. Since I was warned by St. Mary, I did a Spiritualist Mass and called on her and her Angels to speak. I was told to do a Mystical Christian cleansing. A white Christian and Curandero cleansing to remove the energy of death from myself and my family.

It feels as if all the nasties from the other side are coming out. Spirits who bring death and harm. I am going to do further research into the old taboos and what was considered a bad sign by the ancients. I’ll record it both here and in my books and notes. Here’s to hoping I might avoid problems for once.

I am hoping that in the future, if I add a deeper study of these bad signs and omens. Of these things we take for granted as the ramblings of “superstitious and primitive minds,”, of these “wives tales” as they are derogatorily called (because it implies women were not wise). If I can add this to my list of specialities maybe I can save people from harm and pain in the future.

In the meantime, I wrote all of this because all of you should be casting Oracles and protecting and warding yourselves as well. I get the feeling a lot more people will be experiencing untimely deaths soon. And do cleansings as well. And most importantly : when you get a bad feeling, don’t ignore it like I did. Follow your instincts.

– M

Tragedy & Peace

It seems no matter how much I try, darkness refuses to leave. Once more I lost a grandparent. This time on my Father’s side. My Grandmother. I was sleeping in for once, thinking I could catch up on rest.

Finally I get a knock on the door at 10am yesterday. It was my mother crying. She came to tell me my one living grandparent was no longer living. She’s gone too. My father had been preparing her breakfast.

She said,

“Oh son I feel so good today!”

We had visited her Sunday. She looked alright. Had been smiling and laughing with us. Not a single inkling that anything would happen. My Dad said he heard a loud bang and a scream.

He ran to her and found her on the floor saying,

“Hijo (son) I think I’m dying,”

There was no warning this time. It came out of the blue. They took her to the hospital and by 9 something she was gone. I needed some rest and asked my mother to leave so I could sleep a while. The truth is I was shell shocked.

I tried to sleep by ended up crying instead. Now I had no more grandparents. They’re all dead. And I ask to the Gods and to the spirits,

“How much longer must I endure? Why is this happening?”

I still haven’t been able to finish contacting my Grandpa’s friends to let them know he died of Covid 19. And now I have another loss in my life. She is being cremated and a funerary service will be made for her. The same day she died we went to my Dad’s house and cleaned out her closets and things. We’re giving it all to charity.

I also performed the proper rites and am doing Cthonic work for her to move with the ancestors. I was supposed to be named into the Greek Temple I study with this weekend. But after talking with my mentors, I have decided to observe a 13 day mourning period of purification. I am only working with my ancestors and cthonic deities. So that’s off.

But for now, I am helping my family both living and dead. 

 

 

IFA of the Year 2020-2021 from Nigeria

Cuban Bablawos do the “Letter of the Year” on the modern new year. But the traditional Yoruba new year happens from June the previous year to June the next year. And like the Cuban Letter of the Year, the IFA of the Year is divination done by the Priests of Orula. The great Orisha (Deity) of divination and magic. The creator of the occult science of IFA.

The way in which we not only understand destiny, but also change it for our own benefit. The following is what the divination for this new year says.

IFA OF THE YEAR 2020/2021

What is a Witch? (Anglo Saxon Witchery)

The above is a typical depiction of a British Cunning Man. A person who is Cunning or Wise (witch) to the world of the spirits. Many cultures have their own versions of what a witch is. So I am going to make a series every once in a while for people who want to learn. I am posting Simon Roper’s video on Anglo-Saxon Witchery.

What it meant to be a witch in England among the Anglo-Saxon peoples. What they actually did versus Church propaganda. And the important role they had in their communities. You’ll find a common thread amongst all witches. So without further adieu, Simon.

Be sure to follow him on YouTube.

 

Continue reading What is a Witch? (Anglo Saxon Witchery)

Preparing for Death

Guardian Angels crossing over their wards into the light.

I wasn’t going to write about this. I had planned that my next post would be cheerful. Something nice and sweet. I wanted to get out of this gloomy mindset not just for my own sake, but for many who read this blog. However, my spirits kept telling me that I needed to write this post.

Something about, “Someone is eventually going to need it,”. Since it’s a rarely talked about topic I decided to finally get to it today. Everyone is always on and on about getting life insurance. Letting your loved ones know what you want. What you don’t want etc…but there’s a few things that should be added to the list.

Not just if you want to be cremated or not.

Number 1) Leave a Living Will

Sounds simple enough right? And yet most people don’t do it. Make sure that you divide everything up for your descendants. When my first Grandpa died, it was painful having to go through his house. My Grandma had Alzheimer’s and couldn’t live on her own. She had no use for any of my grandpa’s things.

I felt like we were vultures going through his things. It felt down right unholy to divide his belongings. It felt like robbing the dead. I couldn’t bring myself to participate. Don’t make your loved ones go through that.

Leave a clear list of what should happen with everything and where it should go. They will feel better and you’ll avoid family fueds that way. An Indian client once asked me to ask her dead Grandmother why she hadn’t left a will. The family tore itself apart arguing over lands and homes she owned. The spirit simply responded,

“I knew that they would. But I expected them to behave like adults,”

Don’t do that. Make sure any places or economically beneficial things are also assigned to those you want to assign them to. You may think your family is above that, but remember : they are human. Prone to human mistakes. Next on our list.

2) Prepare for the Afterlife

The disposal of your earthly remains is just a tiny part of what needs to be cared for. You have to worry about your soul as well. There is a modern belief that when you die that’s it. You go to where you need to go. Not even close.

While that can and does happen, that’s not always the case. Those tend to be people who are protected by a higher power or a faith etc..or have really strong guides and ancestors. I wonder if all these Earthly ghosts are here because nobody followed the proper rites and procedures for them. So ensure that it gets followed. Get in touch with a temple or a church or a spiritual group you trust to do funerary rites for you.

Then to follow it with a mass. One trick I sort of invented to help one client was I told them to talk to a Catholic Church. And to ask how much of a donation they would need to have a funeral mass said for them…..for a hundred years. If after a 100 years you’re still in Purgatory, I don’t know what else to say. I was taught that one human year on Earth is spiritually equivalent to a hundred years.

So a hundred for us could be upwards to a thousand for them. So a thousand years of prayers done for you. Also remember to ask family members you trust to pray for you. Won’t do ancestral prayers because it’s too Pagan for you? Then do masses and light candles or incense. And if that’s too Pagan for you, you can go to a random church and ask for regular prayers said for you.

In Santeria we go a step further. We have what is known as the Itutu Ceremony. A ceremony where a divination is performed to inform the spirits and Orishas the person had with them and fed them, that their caretaker is now dead. They then ask those spirit guides the person had acquired on their earthly journey what they want. Not their own specific guardians, but new spirits they worked with.

Do they want to be set free from their vessels? Such spirits live inside charms or idols. Familiars who were acquired by the Santero. Usually egun (dead) that join the practitioner while they are alive. Either they will choose to go with another Santero or practitioner. Or a family member or even just to be released back into the spiritual world.

The idols or charms are disposed of in nature. The Santero is also dressed in the same clothing they were initiated in. And a jar is buried with them with offerings for the Earth. Now this leads me to the next part. That’s the way it’s done with Santeria.

Other practitioners may even be buried with their idols and magical items in the same way Egyptians did for themselves. Just remember : Grave robbers are alive and well. So unless you’re planning to leave something that you intentionally want someone taking your stuff, be aware. Such things could be stolen. Personally, I believe every faith should have their own version of the Itutu Ceremony.

I’m not saying steal the prayers and sacred rituals. Not that, don’t get it twisted. But ceremonially preparing the body with special clothing, burying the body with offerings. Informing the spirits and Gods inside of idols their caretaker is gone and asking them what they want, all that is good. And many cultures have similar ceremonies.

Just saying, this is a good blue print to incorporate into every system. It doesn’t have to be exact. Some cultures may choose cremation. There is no right or wrong way to do this. As long as the Gods approve.

3) Proper Funerary Rites

As before, ensure that the proper prayers are done for you. Catholics and Catholic centered faiths start with novenas. These are prayers said for nine days for the soul of a person using a rosary. This is done before any masses can be done. This is usually a preparation for the person.

Again, rosaries and novenas are not just for Catholics. Buddhists have them and there is a Magician on here called “The Digital Ambler” (really cool guy) who made his own Pagan-Christian Novenas. You can make your own for your tradition. And it is also a blessing of protection for the soul of the deceased. Various traditions have different rituals.

For Jews, there is the Kaddish Prayer. The Rabbi leads a minimum of ten people in praises to God on behalf of a deceased soul. This prayer came from Rabbi Akiba. He was a mystical Jewish Sage who met the soul of a dead man on his journeys. The man was a sinner in life and despised by his own community.

He was a tax collector for the Romans, and thus considered a traitor and collaborator. The truth is he had many sins on his soul. He was being tortured by demons who forced him to do hard labor. They made him work all day to build a pyre he would be burned on at night. Akiba asked what could be done for him.

The condemned soul told him, his son needed to be given a Bar Mitzvah. And taught to read from the Torah so that he could lead a Jewish congregation in prayer to praise God. The Kaddish prayer doesn’t mention the name of the dead or anything about death. The intention of knowing that the prayer is being done for a person’s memory is enough for God to raise them to Heaven. In theory this is enough to free any condemned soul.

Rabbi Akiba trained the boy and had prepared a Bar Mitzvah. The night before the young boy was to perform the very first Kaddish, Rabbi Akiba dreamed of him. He was freed ahead of time from his suffering by God. And his soul thanked the Rabbi for his righteousness and his love. Akiba was a contemporary of Jesus for those interested.

Who knows what divine gifts he possessed. Finally,

Step 4) Consecrated Ground

I can’t stress this enough : make sure the place your body gets buried in not only has a good reputation, but is also holy ground. Not all cemeteries are blessed. Most cemeteries are non-religious. And while they do have religious looking graves and funerary rites performed, it isn’t the same. A dedicated cemetery is a place that a priest or priestess of a religion has set aside purposefully.

The purpose is so that the spirits of our Gods and traditions may dwell there with the dead. Offering them light and healing. As well as protection from evil spirits and black magic. There are darker practitioners out there who like to find souls who haven’t quite crossed over. In some cases, there are people who rob the bones of the dead to bind them into servitude.

Burial in such a place can grant a special type of protection for the departed. Also, just because a place is dedicated and consecrated doesn’t mean it’s trustworthy. There was a controversy a few years back in Miami over a Jewish Cemetery. The owners were removing the already buried dead to re-use the burial plots for future customers. So try to find a place connected to an actual temple or church.

Not just a dedicated space that is handled by a third party.

Conclusion

Not to be morbid, when writing this. I say this to you for all of you to learn. We plan birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, and even holidays. Why not take some time out of your day to plan your departure from this world? You’ll help your loved ones. And more importantly, yourselves.

There are a lot of family members who ask mediums and witches : are they okay? And those of us who are not charlatans will always ask,

“What are you doing for your family on the other side?”

Don’t leave it all to us to handle this responsibility. Each and every one of us is responsible for what needs to be done and taken care of when we go. And don’t wait for you to be old. You could die tomorrow.