Day of the Dead

Here are a few photos of this year's Samhain/Day of the Dead altar. I believe that this is my favorite sabbat of the year mostly because of the deep connection I feel with my ancestors and with those loved ones who have recently (or not so recently) passed from my life. To sit before this altar, burning sage, lighting black candles, and meditating on those I wish I had known and those I dearly, dearly miss is very moving. I practice divination in front of it during the days around the sabbat and then I take the cornmeal and tobacco I place on it to honor my Native American ancestors and spread them on the earth beneath the birches at the back of my property. A part of me wishes that this time of year lasted longer than it does, but then, if it was of a longer duration it probably wouldn't be nearly as magickal as it is. So until next year...

Medicine Bag

I've decided to make myself a medicine bag, not only to honor my Native American ancestors but to aid me in my on-going spiritual quest as well. Last year I wrote about a small glass talisman bottle I had purchased and the uncertain plans I had for carrying some spiritual items within it (see Talisman Bottle, September 25, 2009). What could be carried within it proved difficult given the bottle's very small size, but I have managed to put within it some special (albeit tiny) gemstones and some powerful dried herbs. And while I am extremely happy with my little bottle, I had numerous other items that I had considered wearing within it but couldn't due to its size, or lack thereof.

And that's when I got to thinking about creating a medicine bag. While it is usually a tribe's medicine man or shaman or who carries such a bag and I most certainly am neither, I will be carrying it for the same purpose as they would: to make contact with and feel the power of the natural spiritual forces that will aid me in reaching my own personal spiritual potential. The basic items within my bag are pure loose tobacco, dried corn, found feathers and unusual shells which represent the four elements: fire, earth, air and water. I'll also now be able to carry my watai (see Stone Spirits, November 27, 2009) in something meant for it rather than just in a pocket, and even some other very spiritually powerful items that are personal to me and me alone.

The beauty of having such a bag is that it not only allows me to carry a constant physical reminder of my journey here on Mother Earth as well as that of my forebears, but also provides me with a very tactile spiritual experience. The size of it, while small enough to appear to others as nothing more than a tiny woven shoulder bag, will allow me to add additional spontaneous items that might speak to me while I am out hiking in the woods or walking on an empty beach.

Worshipping the Ancestors

Sometimes, it's just synchronicity and nothing less. Recently I went shopping at a very nice cigar shop that I had never before been in to purchase some loose tobacco. I was preparing for a ritual in which I planned to honor my Native American ancestors and at first I held back when answering the shop owner's question as to what exactly I was looking for and why (clearly I looked more than a bit out of my element in his shop). I am generally cautious with strangers when explaining myself, not because I am in any way ashamed to be forthright in who I am and what I believe in, but because to be honest, you never know how the other person might react. Still, after a moment's hesitation, I just came out with it and said, "I need loose tobacco of the highest quality for a Native American rite." Without a pause, he handed me a small packet of pure, organic tobacco for just that purpose, and added a very warm and friendly smile along with it.

I bought my needed item and then wandered about the shop looking into the humidors. My beloved Uncle Fred was a cigar salesman for many, many decades but oddly as soon as I went looking for the maker he worked for, I suddenly couldn't remember their name. When the shop owner asked if there was anything else he could help me with, I mentioned that my uncle worked for a cigar company but for the life of me, I could not remember the name of it. He asked my uncle's name and when I told him, he immediately pointed across the shop to the humidor I was looking for. He said he knew my uncle and that upon meeting him for the first time he instantly recognized my uncle for the amazing man he was. He added that my Uncle Fred was considered a legend in the cigar business, one of the most well-respected men in the industry who everyone loved and admired. I agreed, saying that he was also an amazing man in our family's life and is very sadly missed. He told me some Fred stories and I shared a few of my own.

As I was leaving I realized that not only was I going to be honoring some of my ancestors at the next full moon, but that I had just honored another much adored ancestor with not a single prop and with no formal ritual whatsoever. Two complete strangers connected with the only thing we had in common: my dear uncle and the joy he brought to both of us and the way he touched each of our lives in his own special way.

I went into that shop with the intention of creating a moment of pure love for those who went before me and I did just that, in more ways than one. Perfect synchronicity.