Rune Post #25: Othala

Here is the (slightly delayed) final rune post featuring Othala, the twenty-fourth rune of the Elder Futhark, and eighth rune in the third aett.

Othala translates to "homeland," and connects to themes of property/land, ancestral legacy, ancestral streams, inheritance, and home.*

An Anglo Saxon rune poem reads:

An estate is very dear to every man,

if he can enjoy there in his house

whatever is right and proper in constant prosperity.

Questions:

1) What other meanings do you attribute to Othala?

2) How do you utilize this rune in your practice?

3) If Othala has presented itself in your rune work or castings, how have you seen its energy manifested, or experienced its impact?


*It has sadly been misappropriated by some neo-Nazi groups that seek to align heathenry with racist ideology; it's critical to understand that the runes (and heathenry as a whole) have absolutely nothing to do with such ignorance, small-mindedness, and hatred.

Death as a Source of Power

As part of my participation in an April Instagram challenge, I drew a card from the Major Arcana meant to represent the archetype from which I draw power. As I started to shuffle, my mind began to wander...what card would appear? I can say that of all of the images that passed through my thoughts, I was not expecting the one that I finally pulled - and it is in those moments that the most interesting and unexpected insights emerge....

I draw power from Death.

Druid Craft Tarot - Art by Will Worthington

I see the tale of Ceridwen, Gwion, and Taliesen here in the cauldron's crest, and it has special significance for me at the moment, another iteration of a common theme of inspiration and transformation.

In Death I see the story of our ancestors. How many people have contributed to our bloodline, have died without their names or stories ever being recorded? And yet they influence us still, in our blood and bones, in our örlog and our hamingja, the substance of our very souls. We are their legacy. Death - even our own mortal one - is not the end of our tale, nor that of those who will draw on our guidance far in the future when we are in turn ancestors, when perhaps even our own names and stories have been forgotten. No matter what, our essence is an indelible thread in the fabric of existence.

I draw my power from my ancestral past, and from the mythologies that still serve to teach timeless lessons to us after thousands of years.

I draw my power from the cycle of death and birth, or creation, and change; death and life are indivisible lovers.

Yesterday's Hanged Man, drawn as the "source of my skills," brought to mind, as always, Odin's story of self-sacrifice. Today's Death furthers that line of connection: to greet its presence every day, even in its smallest measures - the death of a thought, a feeling, an assumption, a limitation, of an expectation or desire - to allow something new to be born in its place: that is life and growth.

Biakendai/Biikebrennen: Let It Burn

For the blog hop earlier this month I discussed the February 21st Biikebrennen celebration in North Frisia and South Jutland (Denmark) (click here to read more about it). This is a bonfire ritual specific to this region, and since my paternal great-grandparents were from Amrum (a North Frisian island) and South Jutland respectively, I wanted to celebrate it with my family for the first time this year.

Mind you it's not possible for us to have a bonfire at all, let alone one as vast as those on the islands, so we crafted our own version to honor the day...

Njörd statue

To preface it I want to mention a cool synchronicity that occurred in conjunction with yesterday's event. Over a month ago I had ordered a Njörd statue from a British Etsy shop (SJChilton). I knew it would likely take about two weeks to arrive to me after it shipped, but three weeks later I was starting to worry that it was lost. I messaged the shop owner yesterday morning to ask if she had any specific shipping information, and she kindly suggested I give it another couple of weeks to arrive. A few hours later I went out to the mailbox and there was one item inside: a small box from England. Interestingly, it had in fact been delivered to the wrong house, and the person had opened it up. Upon realizing that it was not intended for them, they put it back in the box, wrote an apologetic note, and hand-delivered it to our box. Needless to say, I was both happy and relieved. And the statue is pretty wonderful!

I have always connected Njörd with my dad's side of the family, primarily island and sea people from Northern Germany and coastal Denmark. So I found it particularly lovely that he showed up on February 21st, just in time for Biikebrennen!

My Njörd altar space

In Europe, islanders craft cloth-and-grass effigies called "Peter" which are thrown into the large fires, symbolic of the banishing of bad spirits and outdated energies. After dinner we all made paper "Peter" dolls out of a brown bag. The kids decorated their dolls however they liked, and then we wrote down any behaviors, thoughts, or feelings that we wanted to be rid of in our lives. Lourdes helped Gabriel with his. She said, "Gabe, what do you not want any more of?" He paused thoughtfully for a moment and said, "Your pickiness!" We all laughed. I told her that we could translate that to "sibling arguments."

Isabella decided to make her doll a girl - Petra - and added quite a bit of detail!

Lourdes wanted her Peter to wear a tuxedo:

Mine was a faceless vessel of intention:

When we were all ready, we went out to the back porch with a candle to burn our Peters.

It was a beautiful experience that everyone enjoyed, and we look forward to repeating it again next year!

Imbolc Blog Hop: Biakendai

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Welcome to the 2017 Imbolc Tarot Blog Hop! Please navigate to the other wonderful blogs in the circle by using the directional links at the top or bottom of this page. Our wrangler is Arwen Lynch Poe from Tarot by Arwen, and the theme she chose for us all is posed in the form of a question: 

How can I best foster the energy of the Aces in my life?

In northern climates, the month of February is a liminal space. Winter still embraces the land, but the sun is becoming ever brighter, and stays longer in the skies each day. Though the ground is still frosty, spring is on the way, and there is a restless energy in the air: a readiness to dig in to the fields, to prepare the ships for sailing. There are many festivals to welcome in the spring, and most include fire in some capacity, as a dispeller of the cold and ice. 

One little-known February festival called Biakendai (Biikebrennen in German) is held on the island of Amrum each year on February 21st. Amrum is a small island in the North Sea, just off the coast of the borderlands between Denmark and Germany. It is part of the North Frisian islands, home to a branch of the Frisian ethnic minority, and speakers of the Frisian dialect Öömrang. It was on this island that my great-grandfather, Gerret, was born into a rich community of family and close friends, and it was from this island that he emigrated in order to establish a new life in New York City. He and his family would have celebrated Biakendai by lighting a massive fire near the sea, and by blackening their faces with the soot of its ashes. It is said that the intention of the bonfire has shifted over time - that long ago it was meant as an offering to the ancient gods and goddesses, and with the coming of Christianity its significance focused more specifically on the more secular celebration of winter's departure.

Here is a newscast about the festival. Even if you don't understand German, you may enjoy the images:

For families of immigrants, reconnecting to lineage and ancestry can be a deeply rewarding experience of becoming "rooted." There is profound Ace energy in that, and this is one way I have been fostering that energy in my life.

Ace of Fire: Biakendai is primarily a bonfire festival for dispelling winter (and any lurking bad spirits!) and inviting in the springtime. The festival is held on neighboring islands and in the adjacent south of Denmark, where it is called Pers Awten/Pers Aften (Gerret's wife, my great-grandmother, Emilie, was a Dane from the ancient South Jutland trading town of Ribe, and probably celebrated that). Islanders gather their combustible refuse (tree branches, cardboard, etc.) and contribute it all to a mountain that will be lit on the 21st. Effigies named "Peter" are thrown on the fire to symbolize the burning away of the dark (both literal and metaphorical), the flashpoint where winter dies and the spring is born. The bonfire festival also served as a time to see off sailors and whalers as they began dangerous ocean voyages. This will be the first year that I celebrate this holiday in honor of my ancestors, and so this is my Ace of Fire.

Ace of Earth: In the Tarot, the 10 of Pentacles is a beautiful symbol of traditions that are passed on from generation to generation. But when traditions are lost due to immigration, an effort must be made to reclaim them. Thus a seed of "new" tradition is planted. I hope that the honoring of this festival will become something that my children look forward to in coming years, and if nourished and sustained, that it may even pass on to their own children. This is my Ace of Earth.

Pagan Otherworlds Tarot - Uusi

Ace of Air: Radio Öömrang is a shortwave radio station on Amrum that holds a very special broadcast each year:

Radio Öömrang broadcasts once a year on the occasion of the Biakendai to the descendants of immigrants from the island of Amrum. Öömrang is a North Frisian dialect and is still spoken on Amrum. Biakendai is an annual celebration where a great bonfire is lit to dispel winter. (from the website)

They are reaching out over the airwaves on this traditional holiday in order to bridge the great space between Amrum and its diaspora. The broadcast lasts for one hour only: my Ace of Air. 

Ace of Water: Quite some time ago as I began to explore more in depth my Danish, North Frisian, and German heritage, I pulled a card about what the process would be like. It was the Ace of Cups. Indeed it has been like drinking from a hidden well, refreshing a parched aspect of my soul. Embracing my family history has been an act of love, not only for my ancestors, but for myself, and for my own children as well. This is my Ace of Water.

My great-grandfather Gerret (lower left) with family - Nebel, Amrum

Here is a festival song for Pers Aften. The video shows images of Biakendai/Biikebrennen/Pers Aften celebrations, including some from Amrum (look for the red/white lighthouse):

"And immediately about the fire were people in the crowd,
they danced and partied and went wild.
I asked a girl who approached me
'What are you doing, and what is it about?'
She smiled at me and she said:
'We celebrate the light, it's what we believe.
We sacrifice to Odin and Freya and Thor
and cry to heaven, where the gods live:
Weadke tar, Weadke tar,
Weadke tar, Weadke tar, Weadke tar,
Weadke tar, Weadke tar,
Weadke tar, Weadke tar, Weadke tar.'"

Thank you for reading, and Happy Hopping!

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Samhain Blog Hop: Guidance From Our Ancestors

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Welcome to the Samhain Blog Hop! Louise Underhill, from Priestess Tarot, is our trusty wrangler this time around, and she has asked us to open ourselves to the guidance and advice of our ancestors in honor of the present time of year. So here goes!

Last Samhain Blog Hop I chose to focus my post on my Grandpa Malgeri. This time around I decided not to choose, but to let any grandparent(s) come forward that wished to. I pulled three cards to help describe the person, and another three cards to form their message to me. Interestingly, I found my Grandpa Malgeri here again!

Pagan Otherworlds Tarot

The King of Swords is the anchor card, and my mother's dad was a Libra; I think he was a good father in his own way, but he made choices that ultimately led to many years of considerable geographic separation from his kids. The Page seems to trying to show his pentacle to the King of Swords whose attention is diverted toward the Lovers - he's even gesturing toward them. My grandmother left Italy and returned to the U.S. with her kids after she learned that my grandfather had been having an affair.* So here I see my grandfather nestled between two rather significant areas of family life: his love relationships, and his children. I will underscore the fact that I don't judge my grandfather and the choices that he made - life and love are complex and messy at times. Given that he died when I was a baby, these are some of the sparse details that I know about him, which means that they are particularly helpful themes to touch on for purposes of helping me figure out which grandparent was "speaking."

I love that he is letting me know that he is still here and present in my life.

The message along the bottom - the 6 of Swords, Fool, and Ace of Wands - speaks of movement, new adventures, and opportunity. This is indeed what my astrology reports have been hinting at lately, too! And I see evidence of it in my life - the sense of wheels turning, of new paradigms waiting to be born, of branching out (no pun intended!) and exploring new territory, especially as it relates to my professional life.

Thus it is a comforting confirmation of the small wonderings that clamor for the attention of my waking mind. I'm ready for what may come.

This is a peek at my ancestral altar which has been seeing quite a bit of action lately.

May your Samhain, Halloween, may your Winter Nights, be blessed.

To continue around the circle of blog hoppers, use the links at the top or bottom of this post!

*Interestingly, in a reading I did recently (for Shadow Work October on Instagram) about the "wisdom of the female lineage," I saw my grandmother's story there, too!

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Weaving Spirituality: Santería and the Northern Tradition

Ellen, from Greylady's Hearth, asked me some time ago to write about the ways in which I incorporate both Santería and the Northern Tradition into my spiritual/religious practice. It is at once a rather simple and complex topic; I don't necessarily combine them, but I do honor Norse/Germanic history and mythology as a part of ancestor veneration. And as I've pondered it over the past couple of weeks some salient areas of relationship between the two have risen up into my thoughts:

1) Both Santería and the Northern Tradition feature a variety of gods and goddesses/Orichas whom we learn about through our personal relationships with them, as well as through sacred stories or myths. In these stories they interact amongst themselves as well as with others, oftentimes showing quite human characteristics that serve to teach us about the world (and in fact some were human at one point or another). In Norse history these are the Poetic Edda and Prose Edda, as well as the Sagas to some extent. In Santería these are the patakís. A principal divergence here is that while the "pantheon" in Santería includes the presence of a primary creator God, Olodumare, no such equivalent exists in the Northern Tradition. (Santería is a monotheistic faith, whereas the Northern Tradition is considered polytheistic. The Orichas are somewhat similar to saints, which lent themselves to being syncretized with Catholicism during slave times in the New World).

2) Both Santería and the Northern Tradition feature a divination style unique to the history of each. In Santería divination is most typically done via the caracoles (Merindilogún, cowrie shells - usually those of Elegua) by Santeros, or using the epuele or Opon Ifá (Table of Ifá) by Babalawos, priests of Orula (I'm sidestepping obi divination since it is essentially a yes/no system that, while extremely helpful and useful, lacks the complexity of the previous two). The heart of both the caracoles and Ifá lies in the Odu (which is too complex a subject to detail here). In the Northern Tradition the wisdom of the runes was granted to Odin after he sacrificed himself (to himself, as it were) for 9 days hanging upside down from the branches of Yggdrasil.

3) Both Santería and the Northern Tradition place heavy emphasis on ancestor veneration. In Santería, our family members who have passed on, previous generations we may never have had a chance to know, even spiritual ancestors (such as those of our god family) form our egun, those without whom we may not exist, those whose own life experiences may have sent vibrations down through our family's energetic ties that could well be influencing us today in ways we may not even be aware of. Our egun, our ancestors, are honored, recognized, petitioned for support and guidance. We offer them water, coffee, flowers, plates of food. We talk with them. We welcome them, invite them to be present for us in any way that they are able.

I honor my egun at my bóveda - my altar. Learning about the Northern Traditions (a term I most commonly use to refer to the Norse/Viking/Germanic pre-Christian spiritual beliefs and tales) is one way that I honor aspects of my biological lineage. While my physical ancestors are diverse (British Isles, southern Italy, Northern Africa, the Middle East, Northern Europe and Scandinavia, even South America) I have always been drawn to Viking history. Thus, it has become an aspect of personal study, it contributes to an extent to my spiritual ideology, and serves as an element of ancestor veneration, even within the context of Santeria.

*************************************************

I fondly recall listening to my aunt proudly discuss our North Frisian and Danish "Viking" history when I was a young adolescent. She and my uncle named their boat "Norddorf" after the town of my great-grandfather's birth on the island of Amrum in the North Sea. Amrum is one of the North Frisian islands located off the coast of Germany, near Denmark. He, along with his Danish wife, my great-grandmother Emilie, form the first generation of U.S. immigrants on my father's side.

As I started to learn more about ancient Norse mythology I was drawn even more deeply into the fold. I was born on a Wednesday, Odin's Day, and I was born near Yule, a time associated with the Wild Hunt. I found Odin fascinating - a shaman, a warrior, a seeker, a leader, a wanderer, a diviner, in some ways a loner.  Those were attributes that called to me. A couple of years ago I finally began to study the Elder Futhark runic system with more diligence and focus. On my husband's many jaunts to Sweden he has brought me back treasures such as a silver mjölnir pendant which I wear along with my elekes (sacred necklaces of the Orichas which are granted as part of one of the first initiations in the religion). In fact, in a sort of intercultural yin-yang, my husband also wears a mjölnir!

Santería is my religion, the set of traditions into which I am initiated through my god family. It is my heart; in important ways it forms the foundation from which I approach my life, and provides a framework within which I may come to understand (as much as any of us are truly able) my place in the universe. Honoring and learning about the Northern Tradition is one way in which I recognize my biological ancestry, and thus coexists harmoniously with my overall spiritual practice.

Interestingly, as I was writing this post I took a break, and as I was making some tea my husband came home and handed me a surprise package: a carved candle in the form of an elderly man, and a white and tan egg, also a candle. He said that the carved man reminded him of someone who could be my grandfather, and indeed when I saw it I thought of a European mariner. And the egg is connected to my Ángel de la Guarda, Obatalá. Beautiful synchronicities ;-)

Contemplating "Home"

Since writing the Samhain post about honoring my grandfather, Giuseppe, the other day, I've been thinking about the concept of "home." He moved around a lot, was an immigrant a few times over, and when I was younger I found some sense of pleasure out of the description my mother gave our family as "nomads." Yes, we have appeared to have a sort of "itch," it seems.

Since our immigrant ancestors, we've ever been on the move. At first perhaps it was due to the pursuit of better economic conditions, but is there something more? A constant search for a feeling of "rightness" and belonging?

Last night I was watching an episode of the Originals (a vampire show) and the topic of "home" popped up. Two of the characters were discussing how fiercely they would defend their right to live in their home city, and I thought, "I don't know what that feels like." To be so connected to the place where you live that you would fight to stay there. So I decided to pull some cards about it. I didn't ask a clear question, I simply held this idea in my mind as I shuffled ("What is home, and how does a lack of home impact me? How do I find home?"). I pulled:

8 of Grails/Cups - Judgement rx - 10 of Skulls/Pentacles rx

Tarot of Vampyres

The 8 of Grails was fitting, since it is a card of movement, of dissatisfaction or lack of fulfillment. It's about going on a journey. There is something here of the nomad experience. The 10 of Skulls is the quintessential "family legacy" card - what do you pass down to future generations, and what have you received from your own ancestors? It's a card a closely associated with the essence of a family's material being and presence. And in the center lies Judgement, provoking so many questions I don't even know where to begin.

I live in central Florida now, but I was born on the east coast, and spent my early years between Connecticut and Rhode Island. At about kindergarten age my natal family moved to Michigan, and for nine years I lived in one town, moving to another (very different) city for the next eighteen years. Then my husband and I packed up our things and our kids, and drove into the deep south. You might think that Michigan would have been that "home" for me, but I felt discontented there despite having lived in that state for most of my life. It didn't feel like home, though it was certainly very familiar.

And while there have been many wonderful aspects about life in our "new" state, I don't feel at home in Florida either. So I ask myself:

Will we always keep moving on in search of a place that feels right? If so, we will never provide that land-rooted legacy for our future generations; instead ours will be a legacy of the nomad, the pilgrim, the wanderer. 

And if we always search, are we destined never to find? 

Is the answer in the act of deciding to stay rooted to a place, to not move even when we feel discontented? 

Is the answer in the realization that our legacy moves within us and doesn't need to be anchored; that perhaps our legacy itself is in our movement?

Is there perhaps no answer at all? 

Perhaps this is the legacy of all immigrants who lose their connection to ancestral lands. There is something to be said for the "family oversoul" - those gentle energetic ties that connect us to our parents, grandparents, great-grandparents and beyond. As I did a cursory search of my own blog I found that for last year's Samhain post I had a "conversation" with my grandmother (who passed on thirty years ago) and the 10 of Pentacles was the heart of the draw. It's interesting that it has come up again almost exactly one year later. In the context of that post the focus was on honoring and reuniting family - the idea that home is where the largest grouping of multigenerational family is. A year ago we were considering moving back to Michigan since my mother and step-father are still there. And yet we are still here, with no plans to go anywhere anytime soon.

I sometimes imagine how our family's oversoul impacts me, us. Does my grandfather's wandering nature wield a more forceful vibration through the generational lines? His children, whose American bloodline epicenter lies in Connecticut, are now in Michigan, Tennessee, and Florida. Two of them are fairly regular world travelers. Their children are in England, New Zealand, Alaska, Saudi Arabia, Boston, Florida, California. The net is cast ever wider. Most of those are world travelers as well.

So is "home" in the people, or in the land? Is it in both? How do we recapture a sense of belonging - to each other, to a particular part of the earth? Or do we not? Do we simply restructure, rebuild, reconfigure family "legacy"? Do we start over, honoring the past and releasing it? I don't know, but I'll be sitting with this for time to come.

Samhain Blog Hop: Honoring Giuseppe

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Welcome to the Samhain Blog Hop! Please use the links at the top or bottom of this post to navigate to the other wonderful blogs in this circle. This time around our wrangler, Arwen Lynch-Poe, has asked us to "commune, communicate, and commemorate." We might choose an ancestor or notable historical figure to discuss, to read for or about, or to celebrate, in one way or another.

I ultimately decided to honor my grandfather for this Samhain celebration. Giuseppe Giovanni Amerigo Malgeri was born on September 23rd, 1900 in Pigüé, Argentina, the son of immigrants from southern Italy. As a young adult he left South America for Italy to earn his teaching certificate, and eventually enlisted in the Italian military. In 1924 he traveled to the United States for the first time, where he met and married my grandmother, with whom he had three children. They moved back to Italy which is where my mother spent her early years, but my grandmother ended up returning to the U.S. with all of her children after some waywardness on the part of my grandfather. He died a couple of years after my birth so I never had the opportunity to know him (or my paternal grandfather either, as a matter of fact), which over the years I've come to see as a true and mostly irreparable loss.

An extendable table crafted by my grandfather

I never knew a lot about Giuseppe, and what I did hear could be held within a single, cupped hand: he was a woodworker; he was a teacher; he was a traveler; he was a soldier; he was multilingual. He loved his children in his own way. As I thought about what court card my grandfather might be, I settled on the King of Wands. Though he was a Libra, his essence feels more like fire to me, and as it turns out he has quite a bit of Sagittarius in his chart! I had pulled my husband's Mary-El deck out the previous day, and decided to sift through it for the King of Wands. When I found it I immediately noticed an interesting resemblance to my grandfather:

Mary-El King of Wands and Giuseppe Malgeri

Yesterday on my way home from work I was contemplating what to have for lunch and had settled on eggs all'inferno (eggs in Hell) because we had a really nice tomato sauce that needed to be used. And then I realized that this dish is part of the small legacy that I have from my grandfather. We have relatives in Argentina still, some of with whom I speak. We have family in Italy as well. But one of the most consistently present, always-accessible, fully tangible remnants of his is this simple egg-and-tomato-sauce dish that I learned from my mother. As she would throw eggs on top of bright red sauce in a pan, she would say, "Time for eggs all'inferno, one of my dad's favorite foods!" So for me, this is a direct line to the grandfather I never had a chance to know in this life. Now as I prepare it, I tell my own children, "This is your great-grandpa Malgeri's favorite dish!"

Giuseppe's eggs all'inferno

For those interested in the recipe, it goes a little something like this:

Giuseppe's Eggs all'Inferno

Put some tomato sauce (a cup or two, to your own liking) in a pan (non-stick is best) and crack as many eggs as you like on top. Put on a cover and let it poach until the eggs are cooked to your preference. You can add cheese if you like - throw some on to melt during the final minute or two, or grate some parmesan or romano on top after you serve it. It's great with buttered and toasted bread. As an alternative method, you can pan fry the eggs first, and when they are close to done you can pour the sauce over the top and let it heat through!

I decided to do a reading to ask some basic questions about my grandfather: How did he see himself? What was his passion? How would (or does) he see me, his granddaughter? The results provoked more questions than answers, but were interesting nonetheless:

Stone Tarot/A. Stone

1) How would you describe yourself? 8 of Pentacles reversed. I wonder if he ever felt contented with what he had accomplished in life. Was he a perfectionist that never seemed able to reach the top of the mountain? Was he perpetually dissatisfied? He certainly wasn't a "stable" man in the sense that he didn't stay in one general area - even country - for the majority of his life. He traveled, but more than that, he was an immigrant. He had many different interests, skills, and occupations. He had a family, and then he didn't. Did he ever feel that he'd been "enough"?

2) What was your passion? Wheel of Fortune. In some way this card seems to answer certain elements of the previous card. After I pulled this from the deck I was singing "Papa Was a Rolling Stone" for the next hour. What I like about this card is that it tells me that my grandfather was truly a wanderer by nature. He thrived on change and newness. My mother always said that we come from a nomadic family, in the sense that at least the recent generations have never stayed put. My grandfather moved around a lot, and so have his children and their children. It's nice to think that he pursued change at least in part because he found it exhilarating. And it's interesting to see those qualities in myself.

3) How do you see me? Page/Princess of Wands. I was just writing the other day about "signficators" in Tarot and I mentioned that the cards that most often come up for me are the King and Queen of Cups, and the Page of Wands. In fact, the Page of Wands is specifically the card that tends to represent the work I do in divination: an emissary and messenger, a go-between and interpreter. An underlying question here was one that Arwen had mentioned in her original Blog Hop task for us: How might your relative feel about your card reading? In that light, I take this as a positive confirmation that he approves of what I'm doing. And I like the idea that he sees me as a "princess" (that's very grandfatherly, I think!).

Last week my husband and I were dealing with a pretty difficult and challenging matter regarding our car that had suddenly broken down and left us in quite a conundrum (I discuss it in more detail here). As we were strolling through the dealership parking lot in search of a new vehicle, I had a "moment" where I was very aware of both of my grandfathers. I imagined what it would be like to have their help and support in that situation. I thought about how I never had known them, had missed out on the opportunity to experience the grandfather-granddaughter bond. But I welcomed their energy in, and asked for their advocacy.

It's funny that I never thought about it at the time, but as I wrote this post I naturally thought about that invitation in the parking lot, and then it suddenly dawned on me. We ended up purchasing (via a lot of mysterious and fortuitous circumstances) a car that I'd never imagined I'd ever own (and still can't believe it, really): a Fiat - the most popular Italian car brand.

So I send a big "thank you" to my grandfather-in-spirit, Giuseppe Giovanni Amerigo Malgeri. May you always be with me, and may I always be open to your love and guidance.

Happy Samhain, everyone!

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10 of Bolers: Presence of the Ancestors

This morning I woke up with my son snuggling against me. The first words out of his mouth, still in the haze of sleep, were, "You need to fix your hair, mister!" I smiled at the sweetness of his child's innocence and honesty, all imbued with bottomless love. (Then I complied and put my hair in a bun.)

As I rose I felt drawn to my bóveda (altar). I've been needing to connect with my ancestors for weeks now, and while I continue to tend to my sacred space - changing the water in my glasses, occasionally offering a hot cup of coffee - I still feel the deeper call to really sit with them and invite their constant presence more intentionally into my mind and heart. This morning, after giving the Boy his bowl of cereal, I set a pot on to brew, and when it was ready I brought a steaming mug to my bóveda. Instead of the fly-by offerings of late (work has been hectic, and I've been quite engaged with the Shadow Work October challenge in my "idle" moments), I stood there for a time. I thought of my grandmothers and grandfathers, all of whom have passed on. I felt the presence most noticeably of my paternal grandmother, Lillian, and I acknowledged her. I called off the surnames of all of the forebears that I know of, and then expanded out to the countries and areas of the world where I know that they came from: Italy, the British Isles, Scandinavia, Northern Africa and the Middle East, Germany, Austria and the Netherlands, Hungary...... I opened myself up to honoring all of those who contributed to my bloodlines, all of those without whom my physical being would not be. I asked them to be with me, that I may always be "open" to their support and guidance.

Buckland Romani Tarot

I returned to the kitchen and prepared my own coffee with sugar and cream, and then sat down at the table to pull my card of the day from my new Buckland Romani Tarot app (the first such app I've ever owned, and I'm enjoying it quite a bit!). I received: 10 of Bolers (Pentacles).

And I just smiled, because there they all were, my ancestors, there, present, waiting for me. The 10 of Pentacles is often called the "legacy" card because of the ways in which it represents our material and physical ties to our broader family networks. Thus it is also a primary "ancestor" card. I had never seen this particular version of the 10 of Pentacles before, and there is something special in the position of these people, quietly watching...there. It felt like a warm acknowledgement for me from them.

Amid the toils of everyday work life, woven through the fabric of family togetherness, in the liminal spaces of my thoughts and dreams, my ancestors are there with me.

(Re)Building Your Holy House with the Ancestors

"The ancestors are the real school of the living. They are the keepers of the very wisdom the people need to live by. The life energy of ancestors who have not yet been reborn is expressed in the life of nature, in trees, mountains, rivers and still water." -M. Somé

In Santería, being open to, working with, revering, the ancestors is a critical foundation of practice. The impact that previous generations of family have had on our lives – in both conscious and unconscious ways – and the influence of the family oversoul require us to be willing to delve into our personal and ancestral histories, facing both the good and the difficult. The process of working with ancestral spirits serves the purpose of helping us to address and purge the negative, to understand the humanity of our forebears, and to embrace the wisdom and sacred blessings that they offer us. Ancestor work can have wonderful benefits for everyone, regardless of the spiritual/religious path that is followed, and helps root our Selves to the earth, to connect us with a deep history that is part of who we are, whether we are aware of it or not. There is something sacred in that.

The other night I decided to pull a couple of cards on the topic of ancestor work:

1) In what way are my ancestors present for me? 3 of Pentacles

Prisma Visions/James Eads

These are the raw notes that I took about how this card made me feel:

Working with me to help build the foundation, base structure, of my life. Supporting me, giving advice/suggestions, then stepping back and watching how I implement them. My own personal team. Helping me find tools to work for what I want and need. Helping me to build my holy house.

That last line took me some time to actually get down on paper. It was floating through my head, and I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but I decided that I’d figure it out eventually, so I jotted it down.

Helping me to build my holy house.

A night or two later I was reading a book* and came across a section that compared the personal impact of Orisha worship to restoring an old home:

“As you watch those old walls come down, envision your inner walls being knocked away. Close your eyes and feel the two-by-fours cracking apart within you. Watch as dirty windowpanes shatter – windows through which you might have once viewed the world clearly…Watch as workers toil, removing the house’s battered and broken parts, in order to restore its strength and beauty…Feel their jubilation along with their calluses and aching backs as they see it slowly rise before them, restored, reborn (pp. 128-29; Correal, 2003).”

As I read those words, the 3 of Pentacles with the image of the man laying bricks suddenly popped into my mind. My “holy house” is me. In this light, my ancestors work with me like the toiling workers renovating that old home, helping me to open up, break down, and rebuild into a stronger, healthier, happier, more balanced human being. That is what it’s all about.

2) How can I best take advantage of their wisdom and guidance? Hanged Man

Prisma Visions/James Eads

Again, my rough notes are as follows:

Releasing a hold on/sacrificing the ego; making time in my schedule to talk to them. Be willing to allow time for life to develop – not being quick to judge. Letting go of control and trusting them. Open up to insight. 

There is a lot to be said for learning to surrender; to get out of your head, to view your experiences from new vantage points. It has become almost cliché to say, in regards to the Hanged Man, that one must be open to “seeing things from a new perspective.” The reality is that it’s true. When you climb a tree, your entire back yard transforms; you see things you never did, or never could, before. I remember riding a Ferris wheel at a community festival down the street from our house a couple of years back. Once we reached the ride’s apex we could see lakes that we never knew were there, and even the tips of the downtown buildings were visible, driving home the proximity of important places in our environment. But those instances are exterior; we literally see things from a new perspective because our physical bodies are lifted into the sky, or hung upside down. It’s more work to be open to new angles of thought from the inside. But the analogy is potent and clear.

It’s amazing just how driven we are to do what we want to do, or not do what we aren’t in the mood to do. In a way, like with Lent, there is a certain sacrifice in not giving in to our impulses, though in another way it is also about fundamental self-control, focus; our commitment to a practice lies to some degree in the ability to remember our truest, deepest desires, our most heart-centered goals.

I say all of that because in our great rush, and our daily distractions, it’s easy to simply not take the time to sit at the ancestor altar and talk to them. Or just breathe for a few moments. To take a few seconds to call to mind your grandfather, or the name of your great-grandmother, or those nameless forebears that stream back into infinity whose essence you hold in your very cellular make-up. To hold them – even just the awareness of their existence - in your heart and mind briefly, and open yourself to their presence. So then, we sacrifice – “make sacred” – our offering of time, laying our ego out on the table because we know that in some way the benefits and blessings of that surrender might someday, stone by stone, make us whole again.

Prisma Visions/James Eads

*Finding Soul on the Path of Orisa/Crossing Press/T.M. Correal

Under the Sheltering Arm of Our Ancestors

Yesterday, as I waited for the coffee pot to finish percolating, I pulled two cards for my daily draw: one from the Oracle of Pharaohs (by Norman Plaskett) and one from the Stone Tarot.

The first was titled "Closeness." This card represents the ties of family, the celebration experienced when a special event occurs (such as a wedding, birth, or graduation). In an overarching sense it signifies the love and warmth of home and community.

Oracle of the Pharaohs/N. Plaskett

From the Stone Tarot I drew Strength (and I just love the gorgeous colors that seem to reach out from the card!). This card is my constant companion, often popping up in regards to questions that relate to spirituality and purpose. Strength is so many things, but in the simplest of terms Strength is about the spark of the divine within us, our ability to be compassionate, wise, loving, powerful and confident in who we are as individuals walking this earth.

Stone Tarot/A. Stone

On a mundane level these cards speak of the fact that my oldest daughter is coming back home tomorrow after having spent quite a bit of the summer in the north visiting with her grandparents. Every day my son says, "When is Isa coming home? She's been away TOO LONG!" His excitement and impatience is touching and adorable. Friday will be a very special day, and in a literal sense it will feel like the strengthening of our family unit now that we'll be complete again.

In another sense these cards bring to mind the deep importance of our ancestors, or egun. In my faith practice, ancestor reverence is fundamental - our ancestors are teachers and guides that are always accessible to us as we walk through life. Remembering them, inviting them to be present in our lives, honoring their memories, helps to give stability to the path beneath our feet. In the book Finding Soul on the Path of Orisa (2012), Tobe Correal writes:

When we learn to share our existence with a palpable and wise spiritual presence, our relationship with the egun becomes a sheltering arm that protects us when we are vulnerable, embraces us when we are lonely, and carries us when we are too weak to walk alone (pg. 53-54)

A couple of days ago I had the urge to make the typical cook-out food that my father's mother used to make when I was a small child. I experienced a brief whiff of Spicy Cheez-Its, her favorite snack food - she once said that years of chain-smoking had shot her taste-buds, but the heat in those crackers was just enough to come through. Perhaps it's time to make my grandmother's cook-out dinner for my own kids, and place some Spicy Cheez-Its out in her honor. 

Calling On Ancestral Wisdom

A couple of weeks ago I was working with my runes, and I asked them to describe the principal influence that my santo/Ángel Guardián, Obatalá, has in my life. I pulled Ansuz which was just so beautiful and fitting. Ansuz is the breath of life, clarity of mind, the whisper of the ancestors, guidance from above, communication. It governs the more mundane aspects of receiving advice from older, more experienced people. In short, it's perfect.

Several days later I decided to pull a rune on the question: "When facing times of trouble, what is the best way to work through it?" I pulled none other than Ansuz! Again, this involves opening ourselves to the wisdom of mentors, those who have "been there, done that." But more than that it spoke to me of the guiding light of our ancestors, the constant presence of the spirits and saints that support us and are always there to help us - we need only ask, and open our hearts and minds.

Halloween Oracle
Stacey Demarco/Jimmy Manton

This morning I decided to pull a card from the Halloween Oracle, and drew: The Veil - The Future.

This card, like Ansuz, represents the closeness of our ancestors - that though we may not be able to see them through the veil, they are often near, and they want to help us realize our plans and find peace and satisfaction. Once we focus our intentions on our goals and are able to visualize the future we want to have, we are better able to work toward manifesting it, and our ancestors will be there to guide us along the way.

I love this; it's a concept dear to my heart. I often feel these wise, loving presences around me, and it gives me great comfort and a sense of steadfast friendship, no matter what challenges or joys I'm facing, like knowing and feeling that your hand is being firmly held, even though you can't see it!