The Air Witch & Smudging Ceremonies

The Air Witch & Smudging Ceremonies

 

Smudging involves burning herbs and using the herbal smoke to cleanse and bless areas or people. It is a common and sacred practice.

Native Americans make use of three primary herbs for smudging: white sage, cedar, and sweet grass. The sage removes negative influences, the cedar cleanses the area, and the sweet grass calls in positive influences. The prayers said during the ceremony are lifted to the gods upon the smoke.

To smudge, place sand or salt in the bottom of a fireproof dish. If you are using a smudging wand, you can carry this dish beneath it to catch any hot ashes. If you are using a dried, crumbled herbal mixture, light a charcoal tablet and place it in the center of the bed of sand. Sprinkle the herbs over the charcoal as you move clockwise from area to area.

As you moved around the space wafting the smoke, say aloud, “Only love and light may dwell here. All other vibrations must leave this house {person, etc.}.” You may direct the smoke into corners and crevices with a feather, a fan, your breath, or your hand. When you have smudged the whole area, sweep the negative vibrations out the door and call in the positive vibrations that you want. Try something along the lines of, “Be gone, worry, pain, misery, and strife! Welcome, healing comfort, love and light!”

 

Clean House Spiritually for the Dark Time of the Year

Clean House Spiritually for the Dark Time of the Year

 

by Freya Ray

Personally, I have had my issues with the “holiday” season. The directions in which our culture has chosen to take Christmas and other celebrations, turning them into rites of capitalist fervor (insert your favorite rant here), have not appealed to me. To me, winter is a powerful time for introspection and returning to your “self.” There is a primal urge to clear the dusty corners of your soul so that the seeds planted in springtime are well chosen and likely to grow up into what you actually want. If it happens for you, as it happens for me, that winter inspires the desire to get rid of the unnecessary rather than accumulate more of it, here are some suggestions.

What do you focus on if you’re feeling the urge to crawl into a hole but aren’t sure which direction to take in your inner odyssey?

There are four main categories of spiritual debris that can benefit from closer examination. You started life with three of them, the fourth you’ve picked up along the way. I don’t mean to sound negative — you have also collected many wonderful gifts in each of these four categories. While still honoring your blessings and achievements, it is more productive to work on the pieces that keep you from your dreams.

I’m going to describe a number of possible approaches to spiritual fine-tuning. For earth signs out there, this is not a “to do” list that should be followed from beginning to end in order to become a better person. Rather, this is a collection of inspirations, and your intuition is your best guide for which pathways to pursue. You might become excited about a suggestion, or be repelled by one. Pay attention to any strong reaction — it’s probably worth focusing on.

The person you are today is made up of what you’ve inherited from your parents and ancestors, your past lives and your experiences this lifetime. There are probably some bits of eternal soul and red blood cells too, but these four areas are the ones I’ll focus on.

Parental Inheritance

At the moment you were conceived, you inherited from your parents everything they had learned about life up to that point. Any wisdom, fears, good or bad habits, failures and triumphs. To determine if this is an area that needs some attention, ask yourself the following questions: What is unresolved or in conflict between my parents and me? What issues do they struggle with that also affect me? Where did they fail in their lives?

Parental issues respond well to traditional methods. Journaling — writing about their patterns and your own — can highlight repetitive patterns. For example, if your parents always struggled with money, write down everything you know about their beliefs regarding money and abundance. Write down everything you believe about the same issue. Write down how your behavior about money is the same as your parents, or the opposite. Remember that anything that you do that is exactly not how they did it is not really an evolutionary step beyond. It’s just a reaction. After thesis, step two is antithesis. Synthesis is step three and the launch point for evolution.

Awareness of when you are stuck in a self-defeating pattern is the most powerful step. Seeing the pattern’s origins gives you information on how to change it. If you’ve inherited something from your parents that you’re tired of carrying around, set it down. This can be done in a ritual where you release any burdens you’re carrying for them. Write the burdens down and burn whatever you wrote them on in circle. Craft a small boat and send them downstream.

It can also be done in a very different way: by correcting the problem at the source. See if you can find a way to help your parents get what they want. If you work toward success with them, either in real time or in meditation, everyone becomes liberated. When I helped my mother quit drinking, somehow I quit smoking. It’s all one big hologram, one metaphor. By changing one piece we change all the pieces connected to it.

Ancestral Inheritance

You also inherited your entire ancestral lineage. Everything that was experienced and learned by each of your ancestors was handed down to you, encoded in your spiritual DNA. If you feel an urge to plant a garden in the spring, that’s because your ancestors have been doing just that for millennia. Your choice of magickal path may well be related to your genetic inheritance as well.

Ancestral lineages connect to you at your shoulder blades — the “wing points” — where your wings would sprout if you could see them. The maternal lineage extends behind you on the left side, the paternal on the right. They go out at an angle, and upwards, so they make a V gradually rising behind you. Trust me on this one. I’m not the only psychic who sees them this way.

What this means for you is that you know exactly where to look for problems. I’m going to suggest two approaches. The first is to let your attention, in meditation, follow back along the line of your ancestors. Logically, each earlier generation is further away from you. Look for blockages — for places where the energy is not flowing freely. Bring energy and light to the area until you see the pathway clear. Pay particular attention to balancing the left and right sides. If your father had a really unpleasant childhood due to abusive parents, you might have shut down the energy on the right side. This protected you when you were unable to take a more active role, but now you can clear the blockages and make use of all of the gifts from your inheritance. If you shut down the masculine side you might have noticed difficulty in taking charge of your life. This is corrected by balancing the two sides.

The other method is to examine the spiritual DNA. I highly recommend Chris Griscom’s book Psychogenetics for full information on this method. The short form is: Visualize your DNA and look for blocks related to issues you’ve inherited from your ancestors. Heal those blocks by blasting them with white, laser-like light. Allow the DNA to re-form itself, whole and healthy. These methods may sound silly or difficult, but they are neither. By simply going into a meditative state and visualizing, everyone I’ve ever worked with has been capable of receiving useful information and effecting positive change.

Past Life Inheritance

Your past lives are a fertile place to look for issues that are causing you trouble this time around. Ask yourself: What habits do I have as a soul that aren’t working for me? Do I have strong, unexplained aversions or fears? Are there difficult relationships or repetitive patterns that I don’t seem to be able to get out of? Any of these things could have come from traumatic experiences in past lives.

Richard Webster wrote a wonderful book, Practical Guide to Past-Life Memories, that gives twelve different methods for remembering your past lives. I recommend getting this book, choosing a method and trying it out. When you feel like you’ve got the hang of recall, go on specific missions. Go looking for the other times you’ve known that difficult person, and information about why you struggle with him or her now. Seek the source of your fear of water. Look for patterns — a habit you have formed in many lives of being subservient to others. Ask yourself what in your current life is no longer serving you, and see if your past lives offer clues for letting it go.

Past life work is a magickally productive area to pursue. It seems that most of the time simply recalling the prior events and allowing yourself to really feel the feelings that go along with the memories will release their power. As soon as I remembered the witchy lifetime in which I was hung (and sobbed for a couple hours), I was able to do ritual again. For years before that, I had identified as a witch, but found myself unable to do Wiccan ceremony. That changed immediately, just from bringing the source of my fear to consciousness. Remember, cry/rage/laugh, and let it go.

Your Energy Body

The final area that could use cleaning up is all about you. As you move through your life, every experience you have leaves its residue. In a quiet, meditative state, scan your energy body for tension, grief, or pain`or even dark spots or places where the energy doesn’t feel like it’s moving. Ask yourself what color of light is needed to rebalance this blocked place. Bathe the area in healing light — different colors for different issues — until the area is balanced again. Do a ritual to release the block or get some energy work to address it.

In working with this lifetime, shame can be a powerful marker for stored garbage. Mentally scan your past, looking for places in your life you still feel shame about. Then use the color technique, journaling or meditation to forgive yourself. You did the best you could at the time, with what you knew then. If you can’t forgive yourself through meditation, consider taking action to atone. If you still feel guilty for a deed that caused harm to another, apologize to him or her or assist others with a similar problem. No personal ritual would have had the same effect as the action I took as a young adult: I walked into the store I had shoplifted from in high school and wrote them a check. Customers standing next to me were crying with me. It was powerful beyond anything confined to my journal would have been. Just do something, since shame is a crippling emotion that signals an area in which you are experiencing paralysis of the soul.

Likewise, forgiveness of others is important. Resentments we hang onto keep us from embracing new joys, and can lead to health issues in the body. Look back over your past for anyone you’re still mad at, and do whatever you need to do to let it go. This doesn’t mean you need to believe your rapist did the right thing. This does mean you get to a place where he’s not still holding the knife at your throat. Do what you need to do to clear your field, to harmonize the energies you carry with you.

As you go, breathe and pray. Sift through all the seeds you carry. Examine each one and discard those you don’t choose to have in your life again. With a little time and attention, you can move forward into spring lighter and liberated. Once you walk off the turkey and fudge, that is.

Freya Ray is a professional psychic, shaman, writer and teacher. She teaches energy work, shamanic journeying, Tarot reading, and how to live a more blissful life in general. She recently relocated to Seattle after working at Phoenix and Dragon in Atlanta and Rainbow Moods in Tucson. Her writing has appeared in the New Times, the Awareness Journal and the Magical Journal.

A Walk on the Wild Side: A Lifetime Finding Magick in Nature

by L. Lisa Lawrence

When I sit back and try to identify my first significant spiritual experiences, I can’t come up with just one but rather a series of experiences that share a common bond of nature and wilderness. These experiences span my entire lifetime and began when I was too young to understand them.

I was blessed to grow up on the coast. Some of my earliest memories involve running along the waterline dodging the incoming waves picking up seashells, building sand castles and watching the Pacific Ocean crash onto the rocks and cliffs sending its salty spray skyward. I remember the sun setting over the Channel Islands painting the sky orange, pink and purple. I was never as happy anywhere as I was where I could experience the sand, wind, water and blazing sun.

As a small child, barely 3 years old, my heart stopped beating as a result of respiratory arrest induced by an asthma attack while running on my beloved beach. I can’t recall any “white light,” dead relatives or even the paramedics restarting my heart with an intracardiac epinephrine injection, but I did know that my life ended and began again at the edge of the sea. From that day on, I would always be tied to the water. I was literally reborn to it.

Later, farther north on the coast, as an adolescent drawn to the beach and water, I defied my parents and climbed down a treacherous trail from cliffs to the beach below, only to be trapped in a cave by the incoming tide for several hours. I was not afraid but was at peace, knowing that the never-ending cycle of the moon and sea would let me go home when the time was right. I explored the labyrinth of caves and discovered bats, otters and sea lions that were more than willing to share their space with me and didn’t seem the least bit disturbed by my presence. Time stood still while I was in those caves. When I emerged, I was shocked to see the sun setting, and I made my ascent back up the cliff. I returned to those caves many times when I needed a place to just be — although after getting in trouble for worrying my parents, I learned to check the tide tables first.

When I got older and began to expand my geographic horizons, I discovered the foothills, forests and mountains. As a teenager, I rode the bus from my small costal town up into the foothills to work at a fancy inn’s riding stable on weekends and vacations, shoveling horse poop and guiding trail rides for a mere $15 a day, unlike my friends who were working at McDonald’s or in a fashion store in the mall. My reward for all the sore muscles, sunburn, saddle sores and blisters was being able to escape into the hills on my horse, alone. The pressures of a challenging academic program, teen angst and a dysfunctional family disappeared as my chocolate brown gelding and I ascended the steep hills and galloped across meadows with the wind blowing through our hair. Almost every evening, I watched the setting sun turn the Topa Topa Bluffs a bright pink and listened to crickets and coyotes sing a welcoming song to the twilight. I was at peace. I was at home. Only reluctantly would I come down out of the hills, walk two miles to the bus stop and take the hour long ride back down the hill to “real life.”

On the outside, I appeared quite “normal”; I was popular, excelled at sports, held elected office, did well in my classes and was involved in community theater, a church youth group and journalism. But I knew that I was different and often needed to escape to nature, which was the only place that I truly felt at peace. At that point in my life, I didn’t know anyone else that was like me, so being a typical teenager, I just did my best to fit in. I would soon discover that denying your true nature doesn’t work.

If I hadn’t already figured out on my own that I was “different,” it was brought home to me in junior high school when our Methodist Youth Fellowship youth group took a religion test. We were presented with a series of statements and were asked if we agreed or disagreed and on a scale of one to five how strongly we felt about it. Our answers resulted in a numerical score that correlated to a specific religion. Out of the 14 that took the test, 13 scored “First United Methodist,” and I scored “Unitarian.” I’m certain that “pagan,” “witch” and “tree-hugging dirt worshiper” were not included on the test, and that I had, in fact, received the lowest score possible. In our small costal town, the Unitarians were “those pagans on the hill who drink wine and have naked hot tub parties” and were not thought highly of by other churches.

After graduating from high school with honors as part of a group of friends who composed a Who’s Who of well-adjusted overachievers, then graduating from college with a degree in accounting, I spent a year and a half trying to do what was expected of me by taking a stable government job. I tried to force myself to work in a concrete and glass climate-controlled building, and in true overachiever fashion I became the youngest-ever deputy treasurer for the County of Ventura. It wasn’t me. I just couldn’t take it. At the tender young age of 21, I ran off to go fight fires for the Forest Service.

It was there that I found others who also loved nature and needed to be in it as much as possible. Every morning, I would take long hikes in the mountains, encountering bears, mountain lions and eagles that did not react to me as if I was an intruder, but rather as if I belonged there. It was there that I began to have visions of the spirits of the land and to understand my connection to the earth and the meaning of my dreams. I was finally free to be myself and even had others with whom I could openly discuss these things.

Soon, I became a liaison between the federal land management agencies and the local Native American tribes. Tribe members invited me to sacred ceremonies, and elders taught me because they recognized my connection to and dedication to the land. During my time and travels with the Forest Service and Park Service, I was accepted by several tribes.

But I knew that I didn’t belong. I became confused and discouraged that it was okay for the earth to be your religion if you were Native American, but not if you were white. It was as if I was trapped between worlds, not fitting in either. I knew I could never go back to the church I was raised in, and I felt that I would spend my entire life wandering in the wilderness alone, without those of like mind.

As I questioned and explored more, I discovered that my mostly Celtic ancestors also had a tribal culture that honored the earth and that was quite compatible with what I had been taught by Native Americans. I did as much research as I could, found bookstores, covens and teaching circles when they were available in towns near where I was stationed, and I had many mentors and pen pals (this was in the days before the Internet). I finally learned who the woman was who stood at the foot of my bed when someone died or when there was danger. I had inherited my line’s banshee, who skipped a generation from my grandmother to me. I even finally found my way to a few of those “pagan” Unitarian churches.

My formal training enhanced but never took the place of actually being in and connecting to nature. I stood on mountaintops in the Sierra Nevada and Rocky Mountains talking to and honoring the spirits of the land. I sat in sweat lodges in the very womb of the Mother in the Black Hills of South Dakota and had visions that I can’t share here that told me to remain close to the earth. I’ve seen the ancestors in the pueblos of the Southwest and heard the music of the desert.

Each new sacred place in nature taught me a new lesson or introduced me to a new guide; many of them appeared in physical form and would do whatever was necessary to get my attention. High above the Colorado River, a golden eagle buzzed me numerous times and almost knocked me off a 2,000-foot cliff, appearing incensed that I didn’t recognize that it had graced me with its presence and was trying to give me a message. That eagle taught me that there is a message in every encounter and that it is our job to recognize and learn from those messages. It also taught me that the messengers don’t take kindly to being ignored.

I realize that I have come full circle back to the waters of the Pacific. I am blessed to live close to the water and to be able to walk down to it whenever the mood suits me. I often play my fiddle on the water’s edge and find myself in the company of harbor seals, bald eagles and great blue herons. I feel the sun on my face, the wind in my hair and the magick that is all around me. Just as when I was a small child, the water brings me comfort. I experience the elements as sand, wind, sun and salt water, only now I understand what they mean and my connection to them. I am also surrounded by great people who understand as well.

I have met many people over the last 20 years who can be described as “natural witches.” They draw their energy directly from nature, work with herbs and stones for healing and are attuned to the cycles of the earth. Their mysteries come to them directly from nature, and their magick has an organic feel to it. They may or may not have had formal training, but no matter what their experiences, there is something special about them.

My grandmother, a Scorpio, was such a woman, although I don’t think she would have taken kindly to being called a witch; then again, I could be wrong. We never talked about it. She was by all accounts the original “wild woman” and certainly looked the part, with long raven hair cascading around her face and shoulders, reflecting red in the sunlight as she stood in the desert greeting the rising sun. Well into her 60s, she would wander the desert alone in search of stones, herbs and adventure. She lived on her own terms, not giving a rat’s butt what anyone else thought about her, and preferred the company of the earth and its creatures to that of most people. When she did choose the company of others, they were always artists, writers, musicians and other Bohemian types. My mother, in bouts of exasperation with the wild and difficult child I was, often said, “You’re just like your grandmother.” Writer Earl Stanley Gardener wrote a piece about her entitled “The Desert Nightingale.” He knew she was special.

I wish I had been able to recognize and appreciate the magick in her. By the time I grew into an adult and began to understand, she was gone. But her spirit remains in the mountains, desert and ocean, and in me.

How does a woman with a legacy of wildness, whose spirituality is explicitly tied to nature, survive living in an apartment in town? It has been challenging, but it has expanded me.

Six years ago, when I moved to the Pacific Northwest and attended my first indoor circles, I was shocked to find that many groups here held rituals indoors. I couldn’t imagine how anyone could connect with the elements or the gods in a building.

I got over it after experiencing my first winter here. It’s all very well and good to be outdoors, but if your fellow participants are getting pelted with freezing rain, with soaking wet feet in the dark of night, they’re going to be distracted. I work alone and in small circles outside whenever I get the chance, even in crappy weather, but for larger, public events it’s easier to be indoors.

It’s much simpler than I thought to connect to the elements while standing inside a building. Going on a simple guided meditation can connect me to the earth, feeling its coolness, inhaling its heady scent of decomposing leaves and pine needles and reveling in the feeling of fertility. With a little work, something as insubstantial as a few two-by-fours and some shingles isn’t a barrier. If I’m in the proper state of consciousness, it doesn’t even seem to exist.

Even living in a city, wilderness is all around. Wilderness exists at the edge of the water, in a local park or even under a tree in a backyard. I have seen the fey dancing in a hanging basket of flowers on a patio in an apartment complex. The Cascade and Olympic Mountains are a short drive, in a car or on the bus. In a little over two hours, I can be standing on the beach looking out at the vast wilderness that is the Pacific Ocean or across the mountains harvesting sage in the desert.

I have experienced and learned much in the last 20 years from many different sources, but the times in my life spent in direct connection to nature, to the gods, to all this is, without religious structure or human-imposed limitations, have been the most powerful times in my life.

Every place in nature, and in pockets of nature in the city, is sacred. Each place has its own energy, song and spirit guides. Go on… take a walk on the wild side and see where that journey takes you.

June 18 – Daily Feast

Talking too much is a little like painting a picture. It is frequently what we leave out that makes it the masterpiece. We don’t have to tell everything we think – not use every color on the palette. Subtlety makes someone else think, and that is more important. Our tendency is to think that no one understands unless we spell things out for them. It is hard to keep our mouths shut when we want to say something so much – usually with a da li s ga na ne hi, irony or a degree of sarcasm, according to the Cherokee. Silence can be as unkind as saying too much but in the long run it serves a better purpose in preserving friendships. There is a time to speak and a time to keep silence, but it is a person of rare sensitivity who knows when the time is.

~ Tell your children of the friendly acts of Indians to the white people who settled here. Tell them of our leaders and heroes and their deeds. ~

INDIAN COUNCIL

‘A Cherokee Feast of Days’, by Joyce Sequichie Hifler

A Year of Full Moons

Learn the name and meaning of the Full Moon every month

Tarotcom Staff on the topics of moon, full moon, astrology

 

In Astrology, the Full Moon signals a time each month when we are able to take a clear look at what is happening in our lives so we can decide if we need to make changes. But culturally and historically  speaking, the Full Moon has additional meaning that changes from month to month throughout the year.

Either way, the Full Moon stirs our emotions, so it’s fitting that the Full Moon for each month has a different name and personality. Many of the Full Moon names date back to ancient tribes who followed the Full Moon to help keep track of the seasons.

Other Full Moon names have been created by different cultures around the world, and most of the Full Moons have more than one name — although one is likely more widely used than the others.

Let’s take a glance at a year’s worth of Full Moons!

January: The Wolf Moon

The Full Wolf Moon in January is named for the time when wolves could be heard howling with hunger in the heart of winter. Alternate names: Snow Moon or Old Moon.

February: The Snow Moon

The Full Snow Moon in February is named for the time of the heaviest winter snowfall. This is also a time when hunting is more difficult, so it is also known as the Hunger Moon.

March: The Worm Moon

The Full Worm Moon in March is named for the time of year when the temperature begins to warm, the earth softens and earthworms begin to reappear, followed by the birds. Alternate names: The Sap Moon or the Crow Moon.

April: The Pink Moon

The Full Pink Moon in April is named for the time of year when the earliest pink phlox and wildflowers begin to bloom. Alternate names: The Grass Moon, the Egg Moon or the Fish Moon.

May: The Flower Moon

The Full Flower Moon in May is named for the abundance of flowers that begin to bloom this month. Alternate names: The Corn Planting Moon or the Milk Moon.

June: The Strawberry Moon

The Full Strawberry Moon in June is named for the time of year the Native American Algonquin tribes would rush to gather ripe strawberries. Alternate names: The Honey Moon, the Rose Moon or the Hot Moon.

July: The Full Buck Moon

The Full Buck Moon in July is named for the time of year when buck deer begin to grow new antlers. Alternate names: The Thunder Moon (for frequent thunderstorms) or the Hay Moon.

August: The Sturgeon Moon

The Full Sturgeon Moon of August is named for the time when Native American fishing tribes could most easily catch this fish in certain lakes. Alternate names: The Green Corn Moon, the Red Moon or the Grain Moon.

September: The Corn Moon or Harvest Moon

The Full Corn Moon of September is named for the time of year when Native Americans harvested corn. It’s alternately called the Harvest Moon (which is the Full Moon closest to Fall Equinox and can happen in September or October) or the Barley Moon.

October: The Hunter’s Moon or The Harvest Moon

The Full Hunter’s Moon of October is named for the time of year when Native American tribes hunted for the fattest game and stored provisions for winter. October’s Full Moon is called the Harvest Moon when it falls closest to the Fall Equinox. Alternate names: The Travel Moon or the Dying Moon.

November: The Beaver Moon

The Full Beaver Moon of November is named for the time when Native Americans would set their beaver traps before the water began to freeze over. It’s also the time of year beavers begin to prepare for winter. Alternate name: The Frosty Moon.

December: The Cold Moon or The Long Nights Moon

The Full Cold Moon or Full Long Nights Moon of December is named for the mid-winter month in which the cold really takes hold, and nights become long and dark. Alternate name: Yule Moon.

Elder’s Meditation of the Day June 11

“Behold, my bothers, the spring has come; the earth has received the embraces of the sun and we shall soon see the results of that love!”
–Sitting Bull, SIOUX
Spring is the season of love. Spring is the season of new life, new relationships. It is the springtime that really reacts to the new position of Father Sun. New life forms all over the planet. Life is abundant. New cycles are created. Mother Earth changes colors, the flowers are abundant. It is the time for humans to observe nature and let nature create within us the feeling of Spring. We should let ourselves renew. We should let go of the feeling of Winter. We should be joyful and energetic.
My Maker, let me, today, feel the feelings of Spring.
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Elder’s Meditation of the Day June 7

“If there is a shadow of a doubt someplace, that will cause a weakness.”
–Wallace Black Elk, LAKOTA
In the Spiritual World there is a spiritual Law. The Law says like attracts like. This means whatever mental picture we hold inside our minds we will attract from the Universe. To make this Law work we must maintain a constant picture. If we picture or vision something, and along with this picture we have doubting thoughts, our vision will not happen and we will get EXACTLY what we picture or vision. The Law always works. A doubting vision will not materialize what we want. A vision without doubt will always happen. This is a spiritual Law.
My Maker, today, let my vision become strong.
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BASIC PREPARATION FOR SCRYING

BASIC PREPARATION FOR SCRYING

It is always best to scry at night, because this method of divination is closely related to the Moon and all other Lunar correspondences. If you are indoors, you should extinguish all of the lights except for one candle. The candle should be out of your line of sight when you are looking at your scrying tool. Above and behind you is a good placement. Some people prefer that the candle flame flickers, others like the flame to remain still. Experiment and see what you like.
The room should be as quiet as you can make it. If you live in an apartment or with someone else, some quiet instrumental music can be used to drown out any unwanted sounds. Don’t use music with lyrics, because at the least, the lyrics might influence your visions. At the most, they might prevent you from concentrating enough to see anything.
Make sure that you will not be disturbed, and figure out a comfortable way to sit either holding your scrying tool or with it resting before you on the floor or a table.
If you are scrying on a particular subject, you might get better results if you schedule your scrying time for when the Moon is aspected favorably to the corresponding planet. Visions are always stronger around the time of the full Moon.

Shell Scrying

Shell Scrying

This is a modern method of scrying and is becoming more popular. Most people are familiar with the sound of when a shell is placed over the ear.

It sort of sounds like the ocean. But in fact it is the sounds of blood flowing through the vessels in your ear.

If however you listen to this sound you will eventually by able to pick up fragments of conversation. At first you may be able to only make out a few words, but in time you will come to understand whole segments of conversations.

The subject of this talk will be usually meaningless, but if you can mentally break into this communication you may find the voices may choose to respond.

Ritual to Journey To the Universal Circle

 

Adapted from The Cherokee Full Circle, by J.T. Garrett and Michael Tlanusta Garrett (Inner Traditions, 2002).The Universal Circle, a symbol of balance and harmony, is included in every aspect of the Native American way of life. In many Native American traditions, to “offer prayers” means calling out to the four winds for their sacred powers, since the four winds offer lessons from the four directions that make up the Universal Circle.

Each of us experiences this Circle and the four directions as we continue our journey of life. What are the lessons of the four directions? How do we experience this powerful image of wholeness? Find out here:

Circle of Life
The circle of life begins with the fire in the center, the birth, that spirals into the direction of the East for the protection of family while developing.

Then life spirals to the direction of the South to learn how to play, “and to learn of the fairness of games in nature.”

At about the age of seven we start our spiral to the direction of the West, where we learn competition and endurance for work and play through the teen years.

Then we spiral to the direction of the North, where we learn the skills and knowledge of an adult to be a teacher and master of our abilities or trade. We continue to spiral until we reach our elder years as we return to the sacred fire of life, to begin again the spirit world as ancestors.

This is the Universal Circle of life that brings us the understanding of our connections with all things within that circle.