Potential Work for My Dead

Potential Work for My Dead

The year is drawing to an end, and naturally I am drawn to reflecting back on it. I’ve successfully created a cycle of regular, simple offerings that seems to work for me. I miss offerings sometimes, and they’re not particularly complex; I suspect part of me will always be drawn to something intricate and complicated, but a teacup full of fresh, cool water and a beeswax tealight on the saucer seem to be sufficient for now.

One of my primary goals this year was to work on my relationship with my Dead, via their shrine and their holydays. I think this trend will continue into the new year- I’ve spent most of the day trying to wrangle some brainweasels that popped up as I went to bed last night. I’ve spent a good bit of the past few days cleaning and reorganizing, more of which I will continue to do today and tomorrow; as always I struggle with TooManyThings in insufficient space. In this instance, it’s a matter of shrine space. I purchased two of the honeycomb shelves I mentioned in this post, and while I am very fond of them, I don’t have the wall space for the numbers of them I want. I’ve also done a significant amount of work on my family tree lately, increasing the number of Dead whose names need speaking, whose lives I want to remember in some small token. I went to bed last night feeling frustrated, like I was letting them down because I can’t tend their graves, I can’t create a memorial to each of them.

I don’t know if it was a message from one of my Dead or just my mind rolling around the guilt I went to sleep with, but I dreamt of illuminated manuscripts, and this morning I decided it was a very interesting idea. I could make a very different kind of Book of the Dead, with an illuminated false door/gravestone for each member of my family. Either they could be loose in a folio format or bound into an actual book; either way, I could display the page in question and set my offerings in front of it. I’d need a lot less space, and I could keep the honeycomb shrines focused on just the Dead I have memories of.

All of that said, a Book of the Dead will be a long time in coming, as I’d want to do it by hand. I’ve always wanted to learn calligraphy anyway, but it’ll take a while to get to a point where I’m happy with it. As for the illuminated part, well, I suspect I’ll be tracing a lot. Luckily I’m not too bad at painting inside the lines! Anyway, it’s a thought, and one worth attempting, I think, even if it will be a rather long term project.

The other Dead-related brainweasel I’ve been chasing today is making a set of prayers to different gods to be recited at different points following the death of someone I love. (Thank you for your help with that, Kiya.) I’ve settled on some definite prayers. One to Hermes, at the news of death, to ask him to bring the deceased safely from the world of the living. One to Brighid, at the wake or funeral, to ask her to comfort the living while they caoine. One to Hekate, during the seventy days following death, to ask her to guide and guard the deceased during their travels. One to Djehuty, on the 70th day after the death, though I’m not sure what specifically to ask in terms of the weighing. And finally one to Hetharu, on the day after, to ask her to welcome them to the West (which is also when I’d set up their spot on the shrine.)

There are, of course, many other entities in all three pantheons who I could direct my prayers to as well. Whether or not I will, I’m not sure. I’m reluctant to reach outside my twelve, as far as gods go. I may reach out to some of the Hellenic spirits, though I admit the line between god and spirit can be hard to find sometimes. The only one that comes to mind at the moment would be Kharon; I could bury a penny to pay his fee, or leave one in a store for Hermes to take to him. I expect an offering to the Moirae at some point would also be appropriate, keepers of life, death, and fate that they are. There’s plenty to think about, that’s for sure, not to mention the actual prayer writing. Which is far from my favorite thing in the world.

Hopefully now that I’ve gotten the brainweasels on paper, so to speak, they will stop rolling around in my head and let me focus on other things for a little while.

Reading: Greek and Roman Necromancy

Reading: Greek and Roman Necromancy

I’ve just finished reading Greek and Roman Necromancy by Daniel Ogden about fifteen minutes ago, and I have to say I enjoyed it quite a bit! It has given me a lot to think about. Since my practice this year is strongly about stabilizing my relationship with my dead, it seemed an appropriate place to start (though my own practice is more veneration of the dead than evocation). For citation purposes, I have the 2004 paperback edition published by Princeton University Press, ISBN 0-691-11968-6.

The book is divided into four parts. Part 1 discusses the places necromancy was practiced; part 2 the people practicing necromancy, and their various titles and functions; part 3 the technology utilized, particularly that which distinguished necromancy from regular offerings to the dead; and finally part 4 with the theory and belief surrounding necromancy.

For reference- this isn’t really a review, so much as a collection of the bits that interested me, that I want to poke at in the future, etcetera. The citations are listed by part and chapter at the end. It is also very long- WP’s word counter is clocking it at precisely 3,500 words.


Specific methods of necromancy:

The dedication of double “replacement” figures (kolossoi) was a very old ghost-laying technique. …[To] placate Athene and the ghosts of the dead, and they set about doing this by making an elaborate life-size statue for each of the youths killed, and another one of Athene, too. The material used is unspecified. Learning of this, the men of Metapontum, wishing to seize the peace of the ghosts and the goddess for themselves, tried to get in first by swiftly making miniature stone effigies for the young men and instituting an offering of cakes for the goddess. But both cities were delivered, Croton for its magnificence, Metapontum for its expedition. [11]

While I don’t intend to make replacement bodies for my Beloved Dead, this is an interesting idea for my Nameless Dead- elsewhere in the chapter, Ogden mentions the use of a pair of replacements, one male and one female, to placate unknown spirits. (I am also not being bothered by ghosts, so this isn’t exactly a priority, just an interesting thought.)

A number of [Akkadian] necromancy “manuals” survive under the title “Incantation to See a Ghost in Order to Make a Decision.” The usual method was to smear an ointment, rue (?) crushed in water and cedar oil, over the face of the consulter, or on a figurine or skull that “housed” the ghost. … These instructions do not much resemble old Greek necromancy, but the similarities between Akkadian ghost-laying rites and those of archaic Greece are admittedly rather more striking, as we have seen [in chapter 7]. [16]

The main significance of the basic rites of evocation lies in the fact that their system as a whole (pit, libations of melikraton [honey and milk], wine and water, barley offering, blood offering, holocaust, and prayers) is identical to that of normal offerings to the dead at tombs, as we have seen (chapter 1). Some have argued that this normal offering-system was transformed into a “necromantic” one by additional utterance of some sort of magical “incantation” (epōidē). However, there is no evidence for any such incantation in the Odyssey as distinct from the prayers to ghosts and underworld gods. … Others have argued that the normal offering-system was transformed by being relocated to an underworld entrance. But this renders the phenomenon of necromancy at the tomb inexplicable. [18]

Necromantic consultations normally took place at night, the time of ghosts. Incubation, the usual means of experiencing ghosts at tombs or in nekuomanteia, most naturally took place by night. … Ideally the procedure begins at midnight and endures until dawn, when the ghosts must flee back to their graves or to the underworld… Lucan’s Sextus turns to Erictho in the precise middle of the night, when it is noon on the far side of the earth, and their consultation ends at dawn. Silius’s Scipio begins his consultation when the portion of the night spent is equal to that to come. … The Greek magical papyri schedule a human-skull necromancy and an ass-skull necromancy for midnight. But in Egypt, necromantic rites could also begin at susnset. [19]

For all the importance of darkness, necromancy was ideally performed when the moon was full. … Advance purifications begin for Lucain’s Menippus on the night of a full moon, and the actual consultation takes place on the full moon of the next lunar month. Heliodorus’s witch uses the second night of the full moon. … This timing did not coincide with that usual in the case of general offerings to the dead, which normally took place after the twentieth day of a calendar month. [20]

This surprised me quite a bit; I would have expected evocations to take place in the darkest part of the lunar month.

Animal sacrifice was not essential to the performance of the basic rites. None is made in the evocation of Darius in Aeschylus’s Persians, nor is there any mention of sacrifice in the Euripidean necromantic fragment, which appears to summarize all the offerings being made, and the pankarpeia [“all-fruits”, specifically denoted a cake or potage made with honey and fruits] here is actually described as fireless. [23]

A common way of drawing the attention of the dead was to bang on the ground. [26]

Witches also tended to avoid bindings as they performed their rites (binders should not be bound), and this included the necromantic ones. Thus Canidia’s hair and feet were unbound (i.e., she was unshod), although she did have a belt on her dress. When Ovid’s Medea performed a rejuvenation-reanimation on Aeson, she was unbound in hair, dress, and feet. [27]

Something I’ve heard in passing, but never tied to any particular source- just a ‘witchy’ piece of common sense, or some such.

…then we should look primarily to the tradition of skull divination. The Greek magical papyri preserve a particularly interesting series of recipes for this from late antiquity, but the phenomenon may be attested for archaic and classical Greece, by, for example, the myth of Orpheus’s head. [30]

The myth of Orpheus’s head immediately brings to mind that of Bran the Blessed’s.


On libations and offerings:

Literary and archeological evidence combines to show that despite differences in emphasis and variations in practice across place and time, all four of these categories of observance employed the ritual elements traditional in accounts of necromancy: the digging of a pit; libations of milk, honey, wine, water, and oil, and offerings of grain and flowers, offerings of blood (known as haimakouria, literally “blood-sating”), together with an associated holocaust animal sacrifice; and prayers. [1]

The “necromancy” pots of the Cumaean Painter all show the seated female consulter libating to the ghost from a phialē, onto an altar if there is one, and otherwise onto the ground. Sometimes eggs, appropriate offerings to the dead, sit on the altar, and sometimes the woman holds a platter of food. [5]

Plutarch offers the hypothesis in his Roman Questions that the ritually pure are bidden to abstain from the bean (lathuros) and chickpea (erebinthos) because of their use in funeral feasts (perideipna) and in necromancy. Pliny… explains that beans contain souls of the dead, an idea he ascribes to Pythagoras, and are for that reason used in offerings to the dead. … Pliny’s discussion says that beans fog up the senses and cause dreams; Plutarch elsewhere explains that they are harmful to dreams (as is the head of the octopus), so that those who seek prophecy through dreams are bidden to avoid them. … Indeed, perhaps it was thought that one could experience the soul of a dead person in a dream specifically by ingesting it in a bean. [6]

(This amuses me purely because of my longstanding aversion to beans.)

The libations used in necromancy and general offerings to the dead alike were full ones (choai) as opposed to token ones (spondai). Their principal significance lay in their soothing and life-giving qualities. All liquids used were distinctively propitiating and soothing, as Aeschylus says, or bewitching and thereby able to summon the dead, as Euripides says. Water quenches thirst and bathes. Milk soothes babies. Honey sweetens. Wine is also sweet and ameliorates with inebriation. To Homer’s liquids, Aeschylus adds olive oil, which is also soothing. [21]

This reinforces my instinct to offer comfort foods on my Beloved Dead’s deathdays, as well as the familiar birthday cake on their birthdays.

Since melikraton [honey and milk] was given to the new-born, it was suitable also for the reborn; it further resembled the food of the immortals, nectar and ambrosia. … Additional significance may have attached to individual elements of the libations. The sprinkling of the water, among the other liquids, in a circle around the pit resembles a purificatory lustration. And water was itself regarded as chthonic. Red wine resembled blood, perhaps particularly spilt blood when libated. … White milk relieved ghostly darkness. Antiseptic honey was a preserving agent, and ghosts could be conceptualized as the bees that produced it. Heliodorus’s witch gives extra significance to her grain offering by making it into a cake shaped like a voodoo doll. … Eggs, also particularly symbolic of fertility, were commonly given. [22]

The usual sacrificial animal for necromantic rites was a single black sheep or a pair of them. [23]

Whereas rainwater, which emanates from heaven, summons the gods of heaven, spring water, from the depths of the earth, summons ghosts. [28] … Bathhouses were traditionally haunted, as they were fed from underground water. [29]

A Greco-Egyptian, Apion Grammaticus, is said by Pliny to have called up the ghost of Homer (evocation admittedly, not reanimation) with the herb cynocephalia, “dog-head,” which the Egyptians called osiritis, “Osiris-herb”; the god Osiris has been raised from the dead. [31]

(In a manner of speaking.)


On necromancers:

Psuchagōgoi [“evocators”] were probably based at neukomanteia [“prophecy-places of the dead”] but traveled out from there to lay ghosts when necessary. … The psuchagōgoi of the title, who seem to have been a race, again akin to the Cimmerians, rather than a defined group of experts (“We, the race [genos] that dwells around the lake…”), are based at a lake nekuomanteion, which is probably to be identified as the Acheron one. [9]

Psuchagōgoi were often concerned with the laying of ghosts. Hermes himself, whose job it was to deposit the ghosts of the dead safely in the underworld, could take psuchagōgos as an epithet (alongside those of psuchopompos and nekropompos). In a summary definition of psuchagōgoi, a Euripides scholiast asserts that they “summon up and drive out ghosts.” Paradoxically, it was often necessary to call up a ghost to lay it. …one could often be attacked by a ghost in a form in which it could not communicate meaningfully with one. One would then have to call it up with necromantic rites in a form with which one could communicate and learn from it the cause of its disquiet and the appropriate remedy… [10]

The etymology of the term goēs [“sorcerer”] indicates that psuchagōgia originally constituted the heart of the concept: it is a derivative of goos, “mourning-song,” and goaō, “sing a song of mourning.” The goos was the improvised mourning-song of the dead man’s relatives, predominantly the women, and stood in contrast to the thrēnos, the formal mourning song of professionals. … The original Indo-European root was *gow-, which, as Burkert notes, was onomatopoeic for grief. [12]

This calls to mind the professional mourning women of Egypt (whom I do not know the name of) and the Irish caoineadh (keening) wail first uttered by Brighid at the death of her son.

Goos and goēs are several times associated with the raising of the dead in Greek literature. …[The ghost of Darius was summoned] “in pitiful fashion, making high shrieks with psychagogic lamentations (psuchagōgois goois).” It was these lamentations that persuaded him to come. It is possible that the summoning-song as a whole constituted the gooi: otherwise the term will have referred to the nonverbal noises interspersed through it. … Whatever merits such explanations may have, the fundamental justification for the limitation of the expression of grief is clear: if there is too much of it, one might bring the dead back. The only thing to be dreaded more than the loss of a loved one is that loved one’s return. [13]

The author is reminded of The Monkey’s Paw; I’m reminded of the episode of Buffy directly following “The Body”.


Ghosts and their manifestations:

The most common alternative to conceiving of ghosts as humanoid was to conceive of them as tiny winged creatures. On classical Attic white-ground lēkuthoi, such as those portraying visits to the tomb, or portraying Charon’s barge, they are miniscule black figures hovering on wings, somewhat akin to dragonflies. Ghosts are often black-winged in poetry. Metaphors for ghosts in this aspect were afforded by bats, birds, and bees. [35]

Birds:

[The name Coronides, meaning] “Crow-son,” may suit the girl’s ghostly nature, since disembodied souls could be perceived as crows.

This is not especially surprising, given that crows are carrion feeders, but the repetition of elements present in other culture’s beliefs (in this case Irish) is something I always enjoy finding.

As prophets, the shamans* were close to Apollo. Aristeas was possessed by him (phoibolamptos), and the crow, the form in which Aristeas’s soul appeared, was sacred to him as a prophetic bird. [14]

Again, with the parallels; though I don’t think in Irish lore crows were specifically considered prophetic themselves, but they were associated with the Morrigan, who is at least somewhat associated with prophecy.

Homer and Virgil compare ghosts to agitated flocks of birds. Sophocles speaks of the soul leaving the body as a “fair-winged bired.” … The soul-bird, hovering over or perching on the body of a dead man, is common in archaic and classical art. Tibullus associates screech owls with the ghosts that are to hover around his bawd-witch. [35]

This is also interesting, given the depiction of the ba in Kemetic art.

Bees:

Melissa has a speaking name that consists of the word “bee” (melissa/melitta). … they were held to emerge from the carcasses of dead humans or animals; they were thought to live in caves; they had prophetic powers of their own, and had notably revealed the quasi-necromantic oracle at Trophonius. Swarms of ghosts were even visualized as swarms of bees in necromantic contexts. Another Corinthian Melissa, an old woman to whom Persephone’s mother Demeter had entrusted her rites, was destroyed, like Periander’s wife, by the envy of her peers, who tore her apart. Demeter accordingly caused bees to be born from her body, in a sort of ghostly resurrection. Melissa was also a common title for priestesses of Demeter and Persephone. [4]

The notion that the dead could resemble bees is probably found first in Aeschylus’s Psuchagogoi, where the ghosts Odysseus is to summon up are described as a swarm (hesmos) of night-wanderers (nuktipoloi). It is certainly present in a Sophoclean fragment: “The swarm (smēnos) of the dead buzzes and comes up.” Virgil uses bees in a simile for souls, and Porphyry reports that the ancients called souls waiting to be reborn “bees”. [35]

Snakes:

…Trophonius was identified with the snakes of the reddish-brown pareias variety said to live in his hole (this was also the variety sacred to Asclepius). The honey-barley cakes taken down were variously said to be for these snakes or for Trophonius himself. Snakes, significantly chthonic creatures, were often kept for prophecy and fed on honey cakes in the ancient world. [8]

Cicadas:

[The cicada] sang as a prophet. Just like a ghost, it derived from the earth, it was ancient and bloodless, and it was wise. The Greeks paradoxically attributed the qualities of both blackness and pallor to cicadas, just as they did to ghosts. But at the same time the cicada was immortal, and so resembled oracular heroes such as Trophonius and Amphiaraus, who were at once dead and alive. … [Archilochus] and cicadas alike were sacred and dear to the Muses. … Aesop told that the Muses created cicadas out of pity from men who shriveled to death for neglecting food and drink in their devotion to song. [3]


Hekate:

The required rites strongly resemble the traditional ones of evocation, but no ghosts manifest themselves, and it seems that the function of the rites is simply to acquire the help of Hecate. Jason waits until the exact middle of the night, goes apart from the others, washes in a river, puts on dark clothes, digs a round trench (bothros), piles faggots into it, slaughters a female sheep over it and makes a holocaust of it, propitiates Hecate, and pours libations over the sacrifice. Hecate duly appears in terrifying form with her attributes of snakes, dogs, and torches. [17]

The Orphic Argonautica’s Orpheus sacrifices three black puppies in a similar rite to call up Hecate (black puppies were this goddess’s traditional offering). [24]

Djehuty & Hermes:

Sleep is used as a means of experiencing summoned ghosts also in the Greek magical papyri. … Another papyrus preserves in fragmentary form a hymn to Hermes in which he is praised as an escort of souls and also a rouser thereof, and mention is made of his mantic skill. Hermes is asked to prophesy through dreams. The notion is probably therefore that he will send ghosts in dreams. [6]

Another magical papyrus provides a simple prayer to Thoth/Hermes to bring up the dead. [25]

Much later, a recipe book among the Greek magical papyri calling itself the Eighth Book of Moses contains a brief spell for the reanimation of a corpse that may be used by those initiated in accordance with the book’s rites: “Arousal of a dead body: I adjure you, spirit traveling in air, enter this body, inspire, energize, and arouse it by the power of the eternal god, and let it walk around over this place, for I am the one who acts with the power of Thauth [i.e., Thoth], the holy god. Say the name.” he spell has no explicit purpose other than making the corpse walk around. Collard guesses that the ultimate goal would nonetheless be prophecy. The spell is very concrete in terminology, and does appear to envisage physical reanimation of a corpse, but perhaps even so, as with the talking-head recipes discussed below, one was just to see the dead mean walking in a dream. [32]

The Greek magical papyri contain a number of recipes for skull necromancies. … Pitys appears to be a refraction of the Egyptian prophet Bitys or Bitos, who discovered, Khamwas-like, eschatological hieroglyphics written by Thoth-Hermes (i.e. “Hermetic” texts) in a sanctuary at Said and translated them on a tablet for the pharaoh Ammon. [33]

Dionysos:

Heraclides of Pontus told that Trophonius appeared in a dream to some Boeotians who fled to his sanctuary after being captured by Thracians. He told them that Dionysus would help them, so they got drunk, attacked the Thracians successfully, and founded a temple to Dionysus the Deliverer in gratitude. [7]

Outside the Pythagorean movement, Orphism is strongly associated with Bacchism and Dionysus. Orpheus is now regularly classed as a “shaman,” both for his similarities to the other Greek “shamans” and for sharing with the Tungus shamans the ability to attract animals through music. [15]

Set:

In the second Pitys spell, an ostensible inquiry from Ostanes about skull cups prompts Pitys to supply him with a recipe to raise a ghost by laying (part of) a dead mean out on the hide of a (Sethian) ass inscribed with voces magicae in ink made from an ass’s blood. [34]

I am curious what the Sethian aspect of the ass lends to this rite; he has no particular connection to the dead in Kemetic theology, aside from his ushering of his brother to the underworld.

*Ogden differentiates at the beginning of Chapter 8 between the actual Tungus medicine men, and the Greeks and Romans he discusses; he calls the term “at least superficially appropriate” and retains it “for convenience” which is frustrating, but.

[1] Part 1: Places; Chapter 1: Tombs and Battlefields, p. 7
[1] Part 1: Places; Chapter 3: Heracleia Pontica and Tainaron, p. 32
[3] Ibid, p. 38-39
[4] Part 1: Places; Chapter 4: Acheron Nekuomanteion, p. 56
[5] Part 1: Places; Chapter 5: Avernus Nekuomanteion, p. 72
[6] Part 1: Places; Chapter 6: Incubation and Dreaming, p. 77-79
[7] Ibid, p. 83
[8] Ibid, p. 84
[9] Part 2: People; Chapter 7: Evocators, Sorcerers, p. 96
[10] Ibid, p. 98
[11] Ibid, p. 102
[12] Ibid, p. 110
[13] Ibid, p. 111-112
[14] Part 2: People; Chapter 8: Shamans, Pythagoreans, Orphics, p. 122
[15] Ibid, p. 123
[16] Part 2: People; Chapter 9: Aliens and Witches, p. 133-134
[17] Ibid, p. 142
[18] Part 3: Technology; Chapter 11: Traditional Rites of Evocation, p. 164
[19] Ibid, p. 166
[20] Ibid, p. 167
[21] Ibid, p. 169
[22] Ibid, p. 170-171
[23] Ibid, p. 171
[24] Ibid, p. 172
[25] Ibid, p. 176
[26] Ibid, p. 178
[27] Ibid, p. 189
[28] Part 3: Technology; Chapter 12: Bowl Divination to Boy-Sacrifice, p. 192
[29] Ibid, p. 194
[30] Part 3: Technology; Chapter 13: Reanimation and Talking Heads, p. 202
[31] Ibid, p. 204
[32] Ibid, p. 205-206
[33] Ibid, p. 211
[34] Ibid, p. 212
[35] Part 4: Theory; Chapter 14: Ghosts in Necromancy, p. 221-223
[35] Ibid, p. 223

Wagy, and a shrine for the Dead

Wagy, and a shrine for the Dead

I’ve been doing a lot of cleaning and working on my bedroom, and since getting my hearth shrine put together, I’ve been increasingly frustrated with my Beloved Dead shrine. Which isn’t so much a shrine as three shelves crammed with items that belonged to or remind me of my Dead. Even when I started putting things on it, I wasn’t happy with it- but it evoked at least a little bit of mindfulness, which is something. Still, there’s no room whatsoever for offerings, and it badly needs dusting, and I’m just frustrated.

I started following Home, Hearth, and Heart on tumblr fairly recently; it’s a Hestian blog, and she’s not someone I work with, but the blogger posts a daily calendar with devotional ideas and other information, and today is the last day of the (Hellenic) month. (I consider tomorrow, the first new moon after the solstice, to be the new year, though the Attic Greeks have no real New Year celebration that we know of. Possibly kind of sort of Kronia, which is closer to the middle of next month, but that’s another post for another time.) Anyway, the last day of the month is sacred to Hekate and the Dead, and one of the things the blogger mentioned for today was dreaming up the perfect shrine.

Several times over the years I’ve sat down and tried to think up some plans for my perfect Beloved Dead shrine, but most of them did not get very far for various reasons. But with Wagy approaching- it’s the 22nd of August- and all the rest of the cleaning and decorating and reorganizing I’ve done lately, I’d really like to get an actual shrine up.

I’ve decided for the base to get a few of these white honeycomb shelves to use as the base of the shrine. I’ll cover the backs, and as I anticipate using one honeycomb per person, I’ll probably decorate the back with their name and dates. I’ll also have one extra honeycomb for my Nameless Dead, and one for holding offerings- which will likely be the lowest honeycomb, as the wall I’m using for my Dead shrine is the one directly over my computer desk. I’d like to start with two, and have them set up by Wagy; ideally, I’ll add more around the other Dead holidays I intend to mark this year (Genesia is the 31st of August, Samhain’s November 1st, Veteran’s is November 11th, and then the Seven Suppers from the 23rd to 29th of December.) I’ll need 7 altogether, as the plan currently stands.

I’m happy to say that I have a plan for Wagy; I’ve done all the research the internet alone will allow me. Next on the to-research list is Genesia, which I expect may be a little trickier to track down as I don’t actually know anyone who observes it. (Wagy was made simpler by checking the internet against Kiya’s post on it.)

I didn’t quite sit down and figure out the perfect shrine, but it’s a plan for now! Ideally, I will have something outside where I can pour water offerings out; I’d like a potted plant with faux gravestones, as I don’t have access to any of my family members’ real graves to tend. I also want to get a small composter at some point, as I don’t revert food offerings to the Dead, and composting them for a small vegetable or herb garden and the potted plant shrine seems appropriate.

O&O: June 2014

O&O: June 2014

I missed doing this for May, and I’m not going to try to reach through the depression brain-fog that was last month to do a wrap-up of April. So here’s June, starting with today!

4 June: Offering to the Dagda. Since I’ve set up my hearth, I’ve been doing fire and water offerings with much better regularity, so it will likely consist of that, tuning my harp (since I finally located the spare strings and tuner!), as well as cooking large quantities of soup.

6 June: Offering to the Beloved & Nameless Dead. Fire and water, work on the family tree, and do some thinking about how I want to represent them on my hearth. I may also do some brainstorming on Wagy, which is the first of the Dead festivals this year, and is approaching fast.

13 June: (15 Skirophorion) Offering to Set- I’m not beginning my regular offerings to him until October, but it’s Friday the 13th, so. I will likely keep it simple with fire and water. It’s also Dikhomenia, so fire and water for Dionysos, and I’m not sure what else. One of my overdue Mental Healing posts would be appropriate.

15 June: Eortì Hermes and Father’s Day. (Technically the latter is not on my religious calendar, but I may do something anyway.) Offering of fire and water, Kiva donation; I may do some magic for money, and luck getting a job. I’ll also set aside some time to work on my etsy shop-to-be.

19 June: Offering to Djehuty- fire and water, working on Wagy, working on his mask, posting on his shrine.

21 June: Ray’s Night. Fire and water, family tree stuff; I’m not sure what else. Maybe a particularly messy hands-on project.

22 June: Cill shift. Fire and water, cleaning, weaving, writing.

24 June: (24 Shomu 3) Jubilee- fire and water for Hetharu, spend some time on beauty/pampering (doing my nails, a clay face mask, etc.), dance around like an idiot to some music.

That’s the month! I’m feeling surprisingly positive about it- I know having my hearth set up has done me a world of good. Now I just have to get all the rest done!

O&O: April 2014

O&O: April 2014

March wrap up! So, I skipped Carnival, which as I mentioned in my calendar posts, is okay. My cill shift away at con was different than my usual shifts- I had no living flame, only my amber ring, and I kept forgetting to go up and get it- but I also had this feeling that I was doing the right work with everyone, stitching my life together, as it were, and the ring was just a bonus. Eortì Dionysos, well. I made no particular offering, though I did drink a little, and danced some at the ball. I did listen to a dream the night before (by talking it out with Veggie, Nykti, and Net), faced my problems with alcohol head on, and bought an amethyst necklace I think I am meant to wear on his days. I did nothing for Dikhomenia except swear at having a flight on his day, and wear his pendant. And also fantasizing about ripping a few annoying and/or thoroughly incompetent people into pieces. My second cill shift on the equinox was at home, and I spent it in recovery mode- aside from my living flame, I did nothing but rest and sleep. On Djehuty’s offering day (which I’d really love to name, but augh, names) I updated his offering blog, but I didn’t have much else spare energy- my schoolwork, which is dedicated to him, has been eating my brain since I returned from con.

Overall: it was indeed a light month, and I don’t feel badly about any of it, but between travel-funk and school overload, none of it really made me feel… imbued with a particular sense of piety, either. It’s a step in the right direction, admittedly, but it feels like a frustratingly small one.

Onto April!

1 April: Chavi’s Night. As is TC tradition, my avatar will don a silly hat, and I will keep a candle lit for at least a few hours in her honor, as well as Elspeth’s and Absent’s.

3 April: Cill shift. Weaving, likely, and cleaning. Poking at my again-dormant writing. Trying to name Brighid’s online shrine so I can get it running.

7 April: Offering to the Beloved & Nameless Dead. I’ll do genealogy work, offer cool water, and maybe pick up some more frames for Beloved Dead photos.

15 April: (Also 15 Mounichion.) Heb Hetharu, and Dikhomenia. My usual Kiva donation; I will continue trying to name Dionysos’ shrine, and now try to name Hetharu’s. I feel like there should be flowers and music and dancing, but I’m not sure if I’ll have the energy for the lattermost. I may also order a bottle of Stinger, for future offering purposes. None of this feels quite enough, but I am currently so low on brain I’m not sure what would make it better, right now.

16 April: Jeanne’s Night. A great-aunt of mine who I never knew, really, so I’ll be lighting a candle and offering cool water.

19 April: Elspeth’s Night. Again, a candle and cool water. Like Chavi, I was lucky enough to know her on TC, but never well.

20 April: Offering to Djehuty. Aside from updating his offering blog, I suspect my homework will be the primary offering, as it’ll be nearly the end of the term. I’d also like to get or make some sort of icon to attach to my monitor, to help me stay mindful.

23 April: Cill shift. Cleaning, weaving, hopefully writing.

27 April: Jubilee of Nut (whom I syncretize with Hetharu.) The monthly Jubilee will be Hetharu’s offering day; hopefully by this point I will have an online shrine set up to update, but if not, I’ll be working on the name. I think music and general happy self care will be the rest of the agenda.

27-30 April: Féile Déithe; technically this four day festival is not on my calednar for the year, per my two recent calendar posts. I’ll be making an effort to read one of my Celtic texts during this period, and thinking about what sort of things I might want to do to mark the days next year.

There’s a bit more this month than in March, and I am less sure of how I want to mark it; with my current mental state/energy levels (it was a rough weekend) just thinking of this stuff has worn me out. We’ll see how it goes. One baby step at a time (as Veggie would say!)