A View from the Other Side

Observations from the winged dude next door.

Archive for the tag “spirits”

External Individuals, What a Concept

First… was my last post really back in May? Sorry about that. I don’t know why there was such a long gap. Time weirdness maybe.

Anyway, somebody on Patheos hits it out of the park again.

One of the things that tends to annoy me in regards to a large portion of modern books written on witchcraft is the tendency to use the gods and spirits as if they were merely correspondences. A book will give maybe a short intro into who this god or spirit is and possibly a list of correspondences that they associate with them and then jump into having you call upon them in a ritual or a spell. It’s no wonder that I hear from many witches and pagans that they aren’t sure if the gods and spirits are real. Most likely because they aren’t really showing up in their rituals when they call upon them.

I just want to quote this entire article by Mat Auryn. But I won’t because you should go read the thing over there. But here’s a bit more:

…working with the gods as external individuals will definitely change your relationship with them. The gods and spirits are not your servants, and you shouldn’t treat them as such. You show them respect. You show gratitude for their help and gifts. You don’t talk badly about them or mock them.

See, now why is that such a hard… oh, right. Ego. Well, that and ignorance. Some people really just want a plug-and-play technique for making stuff happen. Light this color candle and burn that incense and say these words and hooray, you’re Harry Potter. Other people actually think that we don’t exist without their consciousness, and that gods and spirits are these shell-like puppets, just waiting around for their amazingness to animate us for their use. That’s what’s known as being an arrogant dick.

Man, I wish you could see the look on my face right now. Maybe, if you’re respectful, and know how to get me there, you will.

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The Otherworld is Bleeding Through

You might want to have a look at this:

The Otherworld is Bleeding Through

Several people whose experience and judgment I trust have all said pretty much the same thing: the Otherworld is bleeding over into the ordinary world in a way nobody alive has ever seen.

Whatever is coming, whether from this world or the Otherworld, you aren’t going to get through it by yourself. You need friends and relatives you can count on – and who can count on you.

As for demons, fae, and other spirits, proceed with caution. The old saying “never summon what you’re not sure you can banish” comes to mind. Make sure your agreements are clear and tight, and be impeccable with your word.

Someone To Talk To, Others Like Me

Alone on an ocean cliff

I wish I had someone to talk to about all this.

I don’t mean that I don’t. I have five or maybe six people who understand all this. Who really get it, and, in two other cases, who are even like me. But you have to admit, that’s an incredibly small number. And once we’ve discussed things, well, there’s only so much more discussion that can take place before it eventually just turns into nods of agreement. Or, the other side of the coin is that I start to realize that they’re not as like me as I thought they were, and there’s no point in digging into details if they don’t understand what it is I do, and what I’m fully about.

I guess what I wish for is more people like me to compare notes with. I know they’re out there, but I guess they’re as secretive as we are. The hidden shamans, priests and priestesses, the people who let themselves be taken over by Spirit, the kind souls who trust us enough to let us speak through them. I know they’re out there. I just wish I knew how to find them… how to contact them and learn what they know, and that they would listen to what I know, and together we could find new ways to do all this and help the world.

I’ve been told over and over again that I’m unique. I know I don’t fit into any neat box. I suppose that’s some kind of blessing, to defy labels, but some days it feels more like a curse. It’s difficult to find others like yourself when you don’t have a definitive name for what you are. Language is limitation, but it’s all we have to try and find common ground. And when there’s no words, there’s little chance of common ground and making that connection.

I’m realizing that I keep my blog here, in part, so that others who are like me might stumble on it… or be led to it, which is probably more accurate. I’d thought that by now I would have found many others. The time is here, the bell’s been rung, but… what I’m seeing the most of is not what I was expecting. Something a little bit like what I have with my avatar, but not quite. A lot of the ones I’ve found are whispers in a head, without independent lives of their own, stuck inside a mental city, without the ability to get out and affect the material world at all other than when they push all the others aside and say a few words. I don’t understand a life like that. They feel like echoes or mist. And they’re not like me, so there’s no point in interacting with them. So I move on.

The search continues for others like me.

How Petro Lwa Work

“Wheras Rada spirits are seen as Stately and sometimes aloof, the  Petro lwa are VERY engaging, sometimes harsh or seen as aggressive, and  less forgiving than their Rada counterparts. Work performed by Rada lwa  tends to be subtle, reweaving the general pattern of the world around  you to bring you closer to your wants and needs… but Petro lwa are  direct and HOT; they wont necessarily reweave patterns gently, often  preferring to give a strong pull HERE and a hard yank THERE until what  you want/need is right next to you… but the whole of the area’s general  pattern may be a bit wrinkled or pulled about a bit by the time they’re  done. Petro spirits are FAST! (Rada spirits can be VERY fast as well,  but they’re usually known for being a little slower to act than the fiery Petro lwa) Where people generally turn to the Rada lwa for gentle  work and improving conditions, people generally turn to the rougher and  hotter Petro lwa for immediacy, protection, fast change… all this and more are the province of the Petro spirits.”

Basic Salutes: Rada and Petro

Windows Look Both Ways

eye closeupEyes are the windows of the soul, it’s been said. Usually it means that you can tell a lot about a person by what’s in their eyes. It also means that the soul is looking out through them. Or more than one soul. A spirit lens which can help focus the soul’s intent and make it physically real… no matter who you think may be looking out.

Seth Speaks: The Eternal Validity Of The Soul – Session 511… continued from 12/18/2013
 
“I am primarily a teacher, but I have not been a man of letters per se. I am primarily a personality with a message. You create the world that you know. You have been given perhaps the most awesome gift of all: the ability to project your thoughts outward into physical form.”
 
“The gift brings a responsibility, and many of you are tempted to congratulate yourselves on the successes of your lives, and blame God, fate, and society for your failures. In like manner, mankind has a tendency to project his own guilt and his own errors upon a father-god image, who it seems must grow weary of so many complaints.
 
“The fact is that each of you create your own physical reality; and en masse, you create both the glories and the terrors that exist within your earthly experience. Until you realize that you are the creators, you will refuse to accept this responsibility. Nor can you blame a devil for the world’s misfortunes. You have grown sophisticated enough to realize that the Devil is a projection of your own psyche, but you have not grown wise enough to learn how to use your creativity constructively.
 
“Most of my readers are familiar with the term, “muscle bound.” As a species you have grown “ego bound” instead, held in a spiritual rigidity, with the intuitive portions of the self either denied or distorted beyond any recognition.
 
“The hour is growing late. Both of my friends must get up early in the morning. Ruburt is working on two books of his own and must get his sleep. Before I end this session I ask you to imagine our setting, for Ruburt has told me that a writer must be careful to set the scene. (humorously)
 
“I speak through Ruburt twice a week, on Mondays and Wednesdays, in this same large room. The lights are always lit. This evening it is enjoyable for me to look out through Ruburt’s eyes at the wintry corner beyond.
 
“Physical reality has always been refreshing to me, and through Ruburt’s cooperation and as I write this book, I see that I was correct in appreciating its unique charms. There is one other character to be mentioned here; Willy, the cat, a beloved monster who is now sleeping.”

(Peter’s note, the above emphasis is mine.)

Just on the Other Side of the Curtain

white featherMany of you have probably seen this photo shoot by now, where a man and his daughter, Olivia, get a series of photo portraits done similar to the ones he did when he was first married, but Ali, his wife has passed away, so Olivia takes her place.

But there’s far more to this story than simply poignant and touching photographs.

From the blog of the photographer, who is Ali’s sister (bandwidth warning, many large photos of the session):

“Lately Ali has been IN.OUR.FACE. Like non stop. I usually get a handful of “messages/signs” weekly. But a couple weeks ago I asked her to make herself more present for me. Welp, let’s just say she listened for once . I never share these things but with some super close friends or my family, but I feel like she’s begging me to share with you guys. So I decided I will. Feathers have been a consistent token from her. Fall out of nowhere onto me, all.the.time. Anywho. As you probably figured, I was having anxiety about cleaning out her stuff with my family and then taking pictures in their empty house. When we went upstairs into Olivia’s room to shoot, I directed Olivia to stand by the window. In my mind I imagined Ali rocking her as an infant in that very spot. She went there, then bent down and picked something up… a white feather. Oh hey sis! Glad you could make an appearance in this sesh. That same day I got a couple other blatant signs, another of which was a bigger white feather while outside picking a Christmas tree with my aunt Dale. (Another past time we did together.)”

Some Zen Sunday Thoughts

bonsai treeWe went to a bonsai garden the other day. The man who runs it also had a large selection of “viewing rocks” that he had mounted to  wooden bases. They’re meant to be contemplated, as the little trees are. A miniature landscape, either in green or in stone.

It’s easy to get drawn into that little world where only one thing matters and all the other chaos gets distant. Because it’s in miniature, it’s easy to find relaxation in examining every little branch or bit of moss in a bonsai tree. Your mind can rest and meditate, and at the same time your imagination can place the tree in any world or situation or landscape you like.

The same can be done with anything. A stone, a candle flame, a cup of tea, a statue, a bowl of sand, a woven blanket, your bathroom linoleum, or a blank wall. You can use them to get lost and have inner visions, or you can simply relax and let your eyes follow the patterns to find a calmer place in your mind. Just observe them for a while in silence.

man meditatingI find myself doing this sometimes, especially in prayer. Yes, I pray too. Prayers can be meditations, whether memorized and repeated, or mantras that you chant, or whatever’s ad-libbed off the top of your head.

What do I pray about? I usually ask for help from those above me, same as you. For strength from Michael more than I should. Healing from Raphael sometimes. I give thanks a lot also. I always remember to give thanks for what I have, what I’ve been given, what I can do. I give thanks for the opportunities, for the good to come, for the pain in my past that made me what I am today. I make vows to be stronger and do the best I can for those I watch over. Sometimes, because I’m closer to where these beings are, conversations spring up between us. Sometimes it’s easy, sometimes it’s not. The Lwa, in particular, don’t seem to mesh with me very well, and it’s difficult to access them and talk with them. Angels and saints,  on the other hand, are easy to find and speak with. I’m not sure what that says about me, I just go with what works. Most human-type spirits are pretty easy for me to find, but not always. It depends.

Strangely, I’ve gone from zen thoughts to my dealings with other spirits. I guess it’s just what the zen part of my mind needed to say this evening.

The Angelic Hosts

angel

Found one of the Hodson books online, and a few others. Still looking for print versions that are affordable.

The Angelic Hosts by Geoffrey Hodson, 1928

(I believe the date makes this public domain. If someone does hold the copyright, please let me know and I will remove the link.)

Each member of the angel kingdom and each atom serves the Logos as a conveyor of His life-force. The service of the angel, however, is intelligent; as the life-force plays through him he manipulates and adjusts the quantity and direction of its flow. If individualised, he does this self consciously, if not, instinctively, obeying the innate laws of his Nature. This union of the consciously directed angel life-force with the automatic and non-conscious flow through the atom, quickens the evolutionary progress of all matter and therefore of all form, whether mineral, vegetable, animal, angel or human.

Listen, Trust, Act

keys

A Psychopomp’s Paradox

Michael guiding souls to heaven“Psychopomps (from the Greek word ψυχοπομπός – psuchopompos, literally meaning the “guide of souls”) are creatures, spirits, angels, or deities in many religions whose responsibility is to escort newly deceased souls to the afterlife.”

I reluctantly find myself in this category. It’s not a task I enjoy. I don’t have to do it often, and when I do, it’s only when absolutely necessary.

In one situation, through no fault of my own, I was forced to kill a number of people. I won’t get into details. The entire situation was a nightmare, and I spent years agonizing over what I’d done. It changed me forever. I could not forgive myself. Then, one day, I realized that if those spirits forgave me, we could all move on, and I could heal from my heart’s biggest scar. So I went to talk to them.

At first, most of them wouldn’t forgive me. But some did. Then a few more. Then nearly all of them. And as they forgave, they were released from their bonds, and could to go to the other side. They weren’t stuck any more, as spirits sometimes get with unfinished business. As each of them forgave me, I helped them cross over fully. Finally, the place where it had happened was clean. It was quiet at last, and so was my heart. Then the paradox struck me:

It was because of what I had done to them, that I then had the ability to help their spirits cross over. If I hadn’t been changed, I couldn’t have helped them.

I didn’t think I’d started out as a psychopomp, but upon further reflection, it’s always been true. I’ve always chosen to be with people near the ends of their lives, to help them in their last days. Lately, it’s been more like putting them out of their misery. But either way… it’s very much part of what I do.

The difference, now, is that I’m not just seeing them to the door, I’m helping them safely through it to the other side. This is because I’ve seen the other side of what the Grim Reaper is. I understand death from the inside out. My greatest hurt became one of my greatest gifts.

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