Rituals

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Badger, Badger, Badger, Badger (But No Mushroom)*

A significant part of my practice over the years has been working with skin spirits. This is my term for the spirits (or residual energy, if you prefer) that are in skins, bones and other animal remains. I have found that I can communicate intuitively with these spirits (whee, animism!). Generally I use this to help determine how to incorporate the remains into my artwork. I do this to give these spirits a better afterlife than hanging on someone’s wall, as well as to help them move past the almost invariably traumatic deaths they experience.

While most of the skins and bones end up with other people post-art, I do have some that stay with me. This includes a collection of skins I use for dancing and other forms of invocation and evocation; I have one particular section of my half of the ritual room where they all hang out. The way my altar is set up, the skins are always to my right when I’m facing it, keeping them in nice, close proximity. The walls in the alcove where the altar sits are also covered in animal skulls that have decided to camp out in my home for the time being, and the spirits therein tend to act as general guardians and spiritual company.

This past Sunday I decided to do a ritual for prosperity in conjunction with a particular project I have in the works. So I pulled out a deck of totem cards that I use specifically for determining good totems to ask for help for specific situations. However, before I’d even gotten the cards shuffled, I “heard” (obviously not with my physical ears) two of the skin spirits speak up to my right. “Me! Pick me! I can help!” each one said. So I went over to the lineup of skins, and both the badger and otter skins I have “jumped” out (again, not physically!). I won’t go into the details of how each one would help me, since it’s still a rather personal project. However, needless to say I was quite appreciative that they volunteered.

I decided to use one of my favorite forms of magic–the humble, often taken for granted, candle burning. Out of all of the various types of magic I’ve used, and the numerous objects I’ve charged with energy for a specific purpose, I admit that I have a definite fondness for those little two-hour candles as receptacles for collecting and focusing energy and intent, and subsequent release thereof. With skin spirits, I’ll generally dance with the skin and the spirit in it, and sometimes the corresponding totem will also join in, and then take the energy of the dance and place it in the candle. And that’s exactly what I did. Since I was a bit tired, I opted to just work with one of the skins that day, so I chose Badger–Otter would wait til the following weekend.

When I called on the directional totems, I tried something a little different to tie in with my elemental work as of late–rather than speaking out the evocations, I called up the element corresponding to whatever direction I was in, as well as shifting my energetic body to the form of the corresponding totem, and used that to evoke the totems. I found that this actually produced the strongest evocations I’ve ever had. It also worked for the various spiritual Friends, Family and Guardians that I routinely evoke for ritual attendance. This isn’t surprising, given that I’ve spent the past week and a half attuning myself to the elements on a several-times-per-day basis, and that I’ve been working with these directional totems through energetic shifts for years. Still, it was a nice reminder that my current elemental work does have practical applications beyond reminding me that the elements can be found everywhere, even in downtown Portland.

The “main course” of the ritual involved me laying the candle for badger energy on the floor in the center of my ritual space, draping the badger skin over my right shoulder, and dancing in a circle around the candle, invoking both the skin spirit and Badger the totem. Each species I dance has a distinctive way of dancing, and Badger/badger ended up giving me a sort of scuff-step-scuff-step pattern. As the dance progressed, I danced faster and faster, feeling my energetic body take on a distinctive badger shape. At the height of the dance, I stopped, “grabbed” the column of energy I’d raised, and “pushed” it down into the candle, condensing it into that container, sealing it in. I then placed the candle in a holder on the altar, set the badger skin near it (but far away enough to avoid accidental flaming badger skin) and lit it to release the energy in a more focused manner.

I said farewell to all the beings I’d evoked, again wordlessly, to great success, grounded, and went and ate since I needed it after all that dancing. The ritual itself went wonderfully, and it also gave me a chance to work with a couple of skin spirits I don’t work with as much as I’d like (I’ve set aside the new moon and the time around it specifically for working with skin spirits). Plus the validation of my elemental work was a nice additional perk. Of course, the proof is in the pudding, but I’m confident that the badger skin spirit can help me manifest the prosperity and opportunities I need. I’m looking forward to working with Otter this coming weekend.

On a different note, my hands are feeling better. Since I spend a lot of time on the computer at work and at home, I sometimes end up with sore wrists and hands–not as bad as carpal tunnel, but I’d like to avoid worse complications. Part of this is because I never learned to type correctly, so for years I was a four-finger hunt and peck typist. Plus I tend to push the buttons down hard! So I took my ergonomic keyboard to work (my home laptop doesn’t seem to cause me problems on its own), along with new wrist splints. I’ve also been training myself to use all ten fingers for typing, as well as type more *softly*.

However, in addition to this, I’ve asked my husband, Taylor, to do some healing on me every evening. Taylor is quite the accomplished energy worker, and was one of the main reasons I can still walk after all the damage I did to my knees a couple of years ago. I was working as a meter reader reading utility meters in rural Pennsylvania, and 4-10 miles of walking, plus getting in and out of a truck a couple of hundred times a day, hurt a LOT. I also wasn’t eating all that well, so I’m sure my body was cannibalizing the connective tissues for protein. I didn’t want to go to a doctor because s/he’d just tell me to stop working for a while, and I was out of sick time.

I noticed a distinct difference once Taylor started doing daily healing on me. Along with improving my diet, he did energy work every evening when I got home. Within a couple of weeks I was pretty much off the Tylenol, and after a couple of months I only rarely had any trouble, even though the workload was the same. And once again, I’m noticing a drastic improvement in how quickly my hands are recovering with this combination approach. His healing is definitely one of the better pieces of proof (for me, personally) that magic *works*.

I’m thinking I should ask Taylor to teach me the more subtle uses of energy work. While I can certainly sense and work with energy, I don’t have the fine-tuned ability he does. This would be quite useful for extractions of unwanted entities/energies in healing work.

* If you don’t get the reference for the title of this post, check out this link and make sure your speakers are on.

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Elemental Totem Ritual

One thing the Animal Father had recommended to me a couple of weeks back was to talk to the four directional totems (the totem animals that I call on in each quarter) and to ask them why they, specifically, were the totems who worked with me in that capacity. So since I am designating Full Moons (or close to them, anyway, depending on work schedule, how tired I am, etc.) to totem-specific rituals, I decided this would be a good opportunity.

So I went upstairs to the ritual area and got prepared. At first I had intended to just talk to Wolf, the totem of the North, and save the rest for later Full Moon rites, but as I progressed I got the distinct feeling that I should talk to all four, that Wolf wouldn’t be doing anything so intense that I had to focus only on him. So around the circle I went, talking to each totem in turn. For ritual structure, I dropped the “draw the pentacle in the air” portion of the evocation since it’s pretty much extraneous at this point, and rather than vocally/verbally calling on each totem, I drew on the internal energetic connection that I’ve formed with each of these totems over the years, doing the usual, brief energetic shape-shift as a way of calling on each one. It was quite effective, and in fact without the distraction of the pentacle and the words, was more intense. I still used my ritual knife to “pull” the elemental energy from the top of the ritual sphere to the bottom, creating a quarter sphere each time. So in the North I sat in a lush green forest, while in the East I soared through sunny, clear skies; the South was a dry, colorful desert, and West was a crashing waterfall. All of these are the usual settings for the quarters, the way I visualize each element, but they were much stronger this time. So I know I’m doing something right.

I asked each totem, “Why are you my totem of this direction?” Wolf’s reply was thus:

“Because I am the animal that represents Earth to you, and green growing things, and the grounded energy. More than any other element, you are attuned to this element, though you are attuned to the others as well. But this one strikes deeply. I am always in contact with the Earth, paw pads on cool dirt, claws digging in. I am keenly aware of the need for the Earth. Also, humanity has often treated me the same as the Earth, for good or for ill, often more than any other animal in places where I am found. and that is why I am your totem of the North.”

Then I evoked Hawk in the East; he said:

“Because I soar on the wind, and I am swift like thought. I am quick to strike, as you are intellectually, though you have learned to have more discretion since I first met you. And you love the light of the sun, the warm air, as do I. You seek to spread your mind’s wings and soar ever farther, and I am with you in that. And I am familiar to you, though my physical presence has diminished some due to where you now live. But I am still here, and I remain.”

Next I called to Fox in the South, and s/he replied:

I am magic, and I am sex. I am passion, and I am clever in my creativity. I am the Fire of Life, all the things that make Life worth Living. I am change, and magic is change, and I am passionate about that. I am the heat that crackles in your very cells, and I work with Hawk’s intellect. I ignite the fire of sex, and the intensity of my red coat is the Fire I bear. But beware the blackened paws, for fire can burn–but oh, is it worth it!”

Finally, I came around to the Bears in the West, and their answer was:

“We are of the emotions; we are here to keep your ego in check. We remind you that you are a powerful being, as are we, and that your emotions can both harm and heal. We teach you to know the difference. But we can also rage like whitewater; we are not always calm and placid. We will help you heal the body at a later point, but for now, heal yourself and those around you, and learn when harm may be necessary–but also the impact. The very water in your cells holds us. We fish in the water, but we do not live there, nor do you, just as you do not live in the air. We and Hawk balance each other out in this manner.”

Then I sat in the center, and this is what I learned from all of them at once:

“We are all of you, and we are here to surround you. We are your animals of the elements, though we are each so much more. We teach you the elements, and we want you to be aware of the elements as much as possible–the basic building blocks of life. Together, we form you, and we ask you to always call on us, not just for protection, but to remember us. The Animal Father has his own elemental totems, but we are yours. You need not dance us; simply call us at your rituals, and remember what we stand for to you. Remember us, whether you are in the wild or not. We are here.”

I felt the strength of them within and without. They welled up inside me, and I felt the immersion in the elements I feel when I am out in the middle of the wilderness. For a time, everything I sensed translated into elements–the air I breathed, the fire in my cells, the solid earth of my body, the water in my veins, as well as the things I saw around me. I was acutely aware of how they all fit together.

The totems told me not to banish them, but to go and spend the next month paying conscious attention to the elements in my life and how they are imminent. (Obviously not to the point of distraction.) So I left without banishing, and felt the totems both in the ritual area and in myself. I grounded by eating, but I still notice the elements in my everyday life. I know what they want; they want me to try to increase the awareness I get, like when I am out in the wilderness, only more frequently. It’s something I can do relatively easily; they just want me to make more of a habit of it. And it’s also not just the outer elements, but also the internal elements, both physical and nonphysical.

Admittedly, this is a pretty basic thing; a lot of newbie pagans do elemental attunement rituals of this sort. However, it’s appropriate and timely, given my refocusing and construction of a path. The directional totems wanted me to be quite aware of their presence in my life, which has intensified quite a bit since I first started working with them over a decade ago. (They’re quite insistent that they stay in my life as well, which wasn’t really an issue anyway.) But I want to increase my awareness of their presence in my life as well as the presence of the elements they represent to me. Too often I think I’ve given lip service to the elements, and not really made them imminent in my life. However, if my path is to include greater awareness of the world around me and the interconnection among all things, it’s only common sense that this would start with a greater awareness of the basic elements that compose both the microcosm and the macrocosm.

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More About Animal Totems

Recently I’ve answered questions for a couple of folks online about how to find your totem. This is another one of those areas where I’ve got a pretty good idea of what I think/know/believe/insert other appropriate verb here.

From my experience, your best bet is always going to be to go directly to the source–the totem hirself. I know some people like decks of totem cards. The problem with these is that they severely limit your options, mostly to Big, Impressive North American Birds and Mammals (BINABM). What if your totem is Wallaby? Or Yellowfin Tuna? Or Rhinoceros….Beetle? A couple of decks include a blank card or two, but that still heavily slants the deck in favor of the BINABM. And as for dreams and animal sightings? Sometimes a blue jay is just a blue jay. Dreams are usually symbolic in nature; rather than assuming that wolf you saw was your totem, ask yourself instead what wolves represent to you, and what that correlates to in your waking life (this may take a while, since dreams like to dredge up all sorts of fun stuff from the subconscious mind). And with regards to seeing physical animals in waking time, chances are that your territory happens to overlap with the animals’ territory (either that, or your neighbors are leaving food out for the cats again, and the possums are taking advantage of it).

I have a problem with people “reading” other peoples’ totems. Sure, it’s not impossible to be able to read others’ energy or “see” spirit guides of various sorts. However, these are filtered through the perspective of the beholder, which adds an additional layer of possible misidentification. For example, I had a friend in college who read “Horse” to me any time I saw her. However, when I asked her what her totem was, she said “Oh, my totem is Swan”.

So, IMO/IME the best way to determine what your totem(s) is/are is to go directly to the source. This also goes for when you want to find out what a particular totem you’re working with, or at least have been contacted by, wants to tell you. I commonly use the usual guided meditation to do so; it minimizes the possibility of outside interference, and it also allows me to get into contact with literally any totem, rather than whatever’s in the deck.

I created a particularly open-ended version of the meditation that I’ve used for a number of years, both for myself, and for use with totem workshops I’ve presented. It’s gotten a lot of good feedback and results, and I use it (slightly altered) routinely in communication with totems. I even customized it to contact the totems of the chakras a la the Personal Totem Pole.

This meditation was initially published in my book Fang and Fur, Blood and Bone. I excerpted it a while back for a friend who needed a meditation to give to people who were discussing the concept of animal totems. I decided to post the excerpt here, since it is an integral part of my practice and will continue to be as such. While I intend to work with deeper forms of trance, I like this for routine conversation.

Copyright Lupa, 2006. Please do not reproduce without my written permission; if you like what you see, please consider buying a copy of the book. Thanks, and enjoy!

Appendix A: Guided totem meditation

This meditation may be used to find primary or secondary totems. I have had better success using it for secondaries–if you are going to try to determine a primary with it, multiple performances should be done in order to account for any preconceived notions or unclear results. Keep in mind that you may not see any animal at first. If this occurs, give it a few weeks at least and then try again. Some folks aren’t ready to meet a particular totem; others may simply need to work with a different set of entities; still others simply don’t get much out of guided meditations and visualizations.

You may either record yourself reading this meditation aloud and play it back or have another person read it to you–preferably someone with a pleasant voice. Nothing ruins a good guided meditation like a deadpan monotone with a cold. As with any other meditation, make sure your setting is quiet and undisturbed and that you can get into a comfortable position that may be held for 15-30 minutes but won’t cause you to fall asleep in the meantime.

Make your body become completely still. Don’t move any part of your body. Concentrate on being entirely motionless. (Allow at least two minutes for this.)

Now breathe as deeply and slowly as you possibly can, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Create an even, steady flow of air. Feel the tension leave your body with each breath. (Minimum three minutes.)

Feel your body sink into the ground beneath you. If there is a manmade floor, feel yourself pass through it and into the cool Earth below. Feel your body become a part of that Earth, solid and unmovable. (One minute.)

Send the upper half of your body high into the sky. Feel the wind rush around you and the clouds brush against your skin. Feel yourself expand into that vast open space and become a part of the Sky. (One minute.)

Now feel yourself being a part of both the Earth and the Sky, solid and vast, and know that as long as the Earth is beneath you and the Sky above you, no harm may come to you on your journey. (One minute.)

Visualize a natural hole–it may be a burrow in the ground, an open knot in a tree, a space amid branches that leads to the sky above, a hole in the ice over Arctic seas. It may be as large as a stone arch or as small as a single cell. See it before you, and enter into it. (One-two minutes.)

Find yourself led down into a long, dark tunnel. You may be running, floating, flying, swimming or crawling through it. (One minute should suffice.)

At the end of the tunnel is another opening. As you pass through this opening, enter into a natural place in which you are very comfortable. It may be a large field, a forest, a snowy plain, a body of water, or the broad sky. Explore this place. Note what the natural flora is, what season and time of day it is and how you move through it. (One-two minutes.)

As you wander this place, you see an animal approaching swiftly. Note what sort of animal it is, how it approaches you, whether it seems to be pleased that you are there or acting aggressively. Pay attention to any specific characteristics such a color, size and sex, and whether it is accompanied by others. Note also if it shifts forms, even into another species entirely. (Two minutes.)

Converse with the animal. Ask it why it is there. If it has acted aggressively, make sure you inquire as to the reason. Find out what the animal has to teach you. Ask how you may strengthen the bond with it. (At least three minutes, preferably five to seven or more if desired.)

It is now time to return to the waking world. Thank the animal for its time and teachings, and promise that you will continue the conversation at a later time. If you wish, gift the animal with a food it likes or other boon. Then turn and go back to the tunnel and return back to the upper world. (At least three minutes.)

As you come back out of the tunnel, start to become aware of your body again. Begin to move slowly, starting with your fingers and toes, then working up your limbs, then your torso and finally your neck and head. Save opening your eyes for last. Don’t rush it; give yourself plenty of time to come back to physical reality. (Allow as much time as necessary for this; you don’t want to get the mental version of the bends by shocking your system with a quick wake-up.)

Once you’ve recovered, write or sketch what you saw in as much detail as possible while it’s still fresh in your mind. Don’t worry if it isn’t high-quality art or prose; what matters is that it reminds you as vividly as possible of your experience whenever you reflect upon it.

*I must give Peter J. Carroll a big thank-you for Liber MMM, which helped to hone my inhibitory meditation skills and enhanced this particular meditation quite a bit. I also have to thank numerous totemic authors, meditation guides and other folks that I’ve been able to trade ideas and experiences with for inspirations and idea that went into the creation of this meditation.

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So, About Them Thar Totems…

Wheee, another “Add a New Category” post!

Actually, this is one of my favorite aspects of my spirituality. I suppose it should be no surprise to me that I ended up gravitating towards totemism and animal magic pretty much from the beginning of my pagan/etc. path. I’ve always loved animals, ever since I was shoulder-high to a German shepherd dog. Though I’m not sure the adoration was always mutual–one of my earliest memories was of catching roly-polies and playing with them (and when you’re a toddler you don’t always understand the meaning of “gentle”). In fact, that early predatory instinct kept on as I grew up, and one of my favorite past times was catching (and releasing after a few days of observation) box turtles and garter snakes. I also read voraciously (as I still do today, as evidenced by yesterday’s post) and checked out every book I could from the local library.

My first book on totems, like so many people, was Ted Andrews’ Animal-Speak (I was elated when I finally got it signed by him this past February, after dragging the thing around with me for a decade through half a dozen moves and a flood). While I didn’t follow it religiously, it was formative to my early practice.

I already knew what my primary totem was. When I was about two or three (or so I recall), I had an experience where Wolf “met” me and made hir presence in my life known. After that point, everything was about wolves–wolf this, wolf that, I want to be a wolf (this was before I discovered therianthropy, by the way). I think I must have done at least one book report apiece on Jack London’s White Fang and The Call of the Wild every year from first through about sixth grade. The teacher just sort of shrugged and let it go. While totemism didn’t explain everything about the presence of lupine influence in my life (particularly internally) it did make a lot of sense once I had a better idea of what Wolf actually was.

There have been other, secondary totems that have come into my life to help balance out some of Wolf’s not-so-great aspects. Horse took over for most of my junior high and high school years, helping me cope with the harsh reality of being incredibly unpopular; she helped to take the edge off of Wolf’s hyper-sensitivity to aggression-submission displays. Cat came in at one point to teach me to be more graceful and in touch with beauty, and Fox has helped me to be more focused on magic. And I have called on other, tertiary, totems for help with specific problems–Badger, for example, has helped me land the past couple of jobs I’ve had, though I’ve also asked Beaver and Otter for help there.

Again, most of what I do is UPG-based, including the primary/secondary/tertiary denotations. Additionally, my observations have led me to come up with three basic theories as to what totems are:

–Archetypal beings that embody all the qualities of a particular species, to include natural history and human lore and myth, as well as the interaction with humans. This somewhat resembles Joseph Campbell’s concept of the Animal Master.

–Individual animal spirits which may or may not have been in physical bodies at some point.

–Psychological aspects of the self that embody different chunks of the psyche; just as entire pantheons can be a map of the psyche, so can a group of totems.

I see the validity of each of these, though I personally tend towards a combination of the first and third (as within, so without).

Now, please keep in mind–I am referring to *neopagan* totemism here. Traditional totemism, in the majority of extant cultures that still utilize the concept, see it as largely a group-based phenomenon. Totems are meant for clans, families, tribes. etc., and one of their main functions (generally speaking) is exogamy–determining who can marry whom with a minimal chance for incest (something that’s much more likely in smaller overall populations). In neopaganism, the tendency of some totemic systems to act as guides for morals, as well as the general symbolic quality and identification purposes got mixed in with the idea of an individual animal spirit guide (particularly as taken from certain Plains Native American tribes, often in a bastardized manner). Additionally, the power animal of shamanic traditions got mixed in there as well, along with the “travel down the tunnel” method of finding said animal. So what passes for totemism in neopaganism today is actually a hybridized creation.

Not that it isn’t effective, of course. We live in a much more individual-based society, and lack the community cohesion that other cultures have had. Therefore it’s not surprising that we have a much more self-centered conception of totemism. And, in my experience, the totems I work with don’t seem to mind the “unorthodox” manners in which I’ve worked our relationships into a modern, middle-class urban American neopagan lifestyle.

So how do I work with them? I include some that I’m actively working with in my prayers in the evening (and morning, if I’m awake enough to remember). I also routinely evoke (and sometimes invoke) them in magical rituals for specific purposes, and I always invite them (or whoever’s willing to show up at that time) into my ritual area for general protection and aid. Sometimes when I do skindancing (shapeshifting dance involving animal skins) I’ll invoke the corresponding totem as well as the spirit of the skin. And, as I mentioned earlier, I have totems who work with me for specific purposes; I don’t do formal rituals with Lynx, but she helps remind me to watch my words and try to remain civil, especially in the event of internet-based stupidity. And Wolf is a constant presence in my life; sometimes I’m not even sure where s/he really affects me, because s/he’s always been there.

I’ve also been reaching out to less common totems as of late. For example, I’ve been working with “food totems”, the totems of animals that are generally perceived as food in American culture–Chicken, Pig, Crab, etc. (You can see two articles I’ve written on my results so far, here and here.) I’ve also done some work with paleolithic and earlier extinct totems, including dinosaurs; later posts may include my notes from these meditations and experiences. And I’ve been working with the totems of endangered species to give an added magical boost to mundane efforts to preserve the last remaining physical members of their species (along with activism and minding my footprint, of course).

I do like the “fly through the tunnel” flavor of meditation/journeying to meet with totems outside of a ritual context, though I do it freestyle rather than with any sort of script. It’s an effective way to meet on neutral ground, so to speak (not that I worry I’ll get eaten by Bear for no good reason, Siberian dismemberment rituals notwithstanding). And I like the setting better, especially if my ritual room is the only other choice at the time–while it’s comfy and warm, blue carpet and light bulbs aren’t the same as grass and sunlight. If I can do my work outdoors, I do, and generally get the best results that way.

The totems have appreciated the increased attention as of late, though they’re patient with me, and there’s still a lot more for me to do. I’m trying to figure out ways to allow them into my daily life more often, other than observation, general presence during ritual work, and hikes in the woods. While I’m doing some exploring with different groups of totems right now, I want to start deepening my relationship with certain ones, as well as the skin spirits I dance with. Additionally, I want to step up my efforts as far as magic for endangered species’ totems go.

So I think a lot of my practice will focus on that. I’ve already got ideas for what I want to do for the equinoxes and solstices (including rethinking the way I do rituals). But I would also like to utilize the full and new moons as well–I’ve been needing regular involvement, and I need to figure out what the special occasions are. Actually, I already have had the new moon set aside for work with skin spirits, so perhaps the full moon will be time for totems. Last night was the peak of the full moon, but I consider the day before and after to also be valid. And, in this case, it’s less about lunar energy and more about reminding me of what I need to do.

I’ve been blessed by the totems’ patience in my life, and I’m glad they’ve stuck with me even when I’ve demonstrated the ability to be a supreme procrastinator and excuse-maker.

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Ritual Restructuring

Today I did the first celebratory ritual I’ve done in years. Until recently, I’ve seen celebration as a casual thing. When I first got into neopaganism, I celebrated the eight Wiccan sabbats, but after a couple of years I started simply noting what was going on outside at that time of the year, wishing folks “Happy (insert holiday name here)”, and not much else.

Last spring, I read The Witches’ Sabbats by Mike Nichols, an excellent, concise text on the origins of these holidays. That got me wishing I had something to celebrate again, and that holidays were more special than simply wishing people the best. The desire to celebrate has been ruminating since then–not long after I read that book my contracted job ended unexpectedly thanks to forces beyond my control, a couple of months later we moved from Seattle to Portland, and I ended up with a new job that took twelve hours out of my day, five days a week. Things got pretty crazy for a while.

However, this autumn I’ve really been feeling Deer/Stag energy quite a bit. This is a high time for the deer family, as they’re in rut, and fighting and sex seem to be the key themes. Everything that deer in general have been doing over the past half a year or so has culminated in a few weeks of posturing, bashing antlers together, and getting it on. For me, this translates into preparing for the long, cold winter ahead, as well as fertility–but a longer-gestating fertility than the quicken-and-go fertility of spring. I have a few projects that I’d like to ideally come to fruition next summer or so, and so I wanted to put some energy towards that, as well as acknowledging the changes going on outdoors this time of year. (I did some hiking yesterday, though I’ll be playing catch-up with a post on that later this week.)

Now, my usual ritual structure has been pretty generically neopagan for most of my practice. It goes something like this:

Cast circle
Call quarters (directional totems, in my case)
Say stuff about the ritual
Do some magic
Make offerings, if appropriate
Tell everyone they’re welcome to stay or go, but I’m done (stick a fork in me)

I’ve been pretty much solitary, so this has worked just fine for me all by my lonesome. This also means that I can adapt the ritual format as needed at the last minute. However, the general structure above has been pretty standard for me.

Well, when I went to do my ritual today, I found that the structure just wasn’t quite meshing with what I’ve been working with lately. I felt like I was talking too much, doing too much extraneous “stuff” that really didn’t have any meaning for me any more, or that simply felt distracting. So, time for an overhaul.

I’m keeping most of the circle casting process. Yes, I do recognize all space as sacred. However, the casting allows me to formally evoke the directional totems and my various spiritual friends, family and guardians. It also helps me to get into the right headspace for ritual, completing the process started with the initial banishing-by-broom (yes, I do still like to purify the ritual area by sweeping it–more, these days, to help clear my mind than to clear any crud out). However, I’m going to stop doing a verbal “greeting”, and instead go directly to the internal connections I have with each directional totem. when I evoke them, there is a simultaneous internal/external reaction. Externally, the totem arrives from wherever it is totems go when they’re not hanging out in ritual circles (I could say the Lower World, but I don’t keep tabs on the totems. How do I know they aren’t just throwing huge parties behind my back without inviting me? *dejected sniffle*). Anyway, at the same time, there’s a corresponding part of myself for each of them that flares to life (or maybe just attention) when I sense that the totems are here. I actually go through a very brief energetic shape-shift as each totem arrives, temporarily taking the shape of the animal to greet the totem. I also draw the corresponding elemental energy of each totem’s direction into the ritual area.

These two occurrences–the arrival of the totem, and the bringing of the elemental energy, are the two most important parts of the circle casting for me. So I’m probably going to drop the speeches, as well as tracing the pentacle in the air, and stick to a more minimalist experience. I’ll probably say a silent invitation and greeting, but I’ve been calling on these totems long enough that I feel comfortable being a little less loud about things (though the process is still formal).

I’m also probably going to reduce my use of the long-speech-at-the-beginning-of-the-ritual format, at least for celebratory rituals. Again, I will probably make a silent prayer, but most likely just cut to the chase. For example, the crux of today’s ritual was dancing in my deerskin and headdress to bring forth the Deer/Autumnal energy and to celebrate both the positive and negative aspects of preparation, fertility, and uncertainty over the months to come.

I’ve been doing a more bare-bones approach with my magical rituals for a while, but the celebratory ones are something entirely different for me. It’s been a long time since I’ve done regular celebrations, and I’m not the same person I was back then. I’ve got a better idea of how my magical work may change, but restructuring celebratory rituals may take me longer to figure out. As usual, though, it’ll be a matter of trial and error, seeing what works and keeping it, and discarding the rest. Today’s ritual, while enjoyable for the celebration it brought, was also a valuable experiment, and showed me some areas that could use some updating.