I adore this necklace. I’ve had it the equal armed cross for a good twenty years. I just had the skulls and such added about a year ago. I’ve been wearing it almost non stop when I leave the house. About half way through the day I find myself thinking, “FUCK this is heavy!”. To which I ALWAYS get His reply, “The Dead are Heavy.”. This last week He has added, “The Dead are Heavy, I need your help.”.
So I do my best to help my Love carry the weight of the world and The Dead.
Tuesday this week I was out walking dogs near my home and found three Amanita muscaria v. formosa, two had been trampled but one was just starting to bloom. I admired it in the morning and took a closer look in the afternoon. As I bent to take a photo I just barely touched it with my finger to see if I could get a look at the gills underneath, the head popped right off. I felt terrible, not meaning to pick it until it had bloomed/opened. I thought about it and hoped it wasn’t entirely my fault, these are sturdy mushrooms, my gentle touch was not enough on it’s own to damage it. So I nabbed the cap and stem, having a talk with it on my way home. I am terribly interested in actually trying this mushroom for spiritual purposes but with a small child I don’t want to lay my life in my very inexperienced hands. The mushroom, who I will use “they” pronouns for, was curious as to why I was so very excited to find it. I did my best to explain the whole oak tree connection, and the Mother of Rot/Mushrooms thing, and the spiritual journey with mushrooms but for the toddler bit. They seemed quite pleased by my attention so made an offer. Take them home, dry and place in a jar on my altar and they would offer as much assistance as they could without actually being ingested. I offered to gather one of each of the Amanita’s that I come across in my travels and place them all in the jar together, the whole family together. They seemed very pleased by this idea and agreed. So into the oven they went.
Last Wednesday, the 21st, while working I came across two immature Amanita muscaria var. muscaria. I was lucky enough this Wednesday to go by the same spot and they were still there! I picked the one that had opened completely, leaving the unopened one to w/Whoever wanted it. This one had a quieter disposition, wasn’t as chatty as the yellow Amanita had been. I explained the situation, they were pleased to be gathered. They are both now in a jar on my altar with a few of the oak leaves they were found in. They are quite pleased. So am I really. I already love putting things in jars on my altar and around my home. Now I need to read up on the others I need to find. My other favourite name for these mushrooms is now berserkur, that’s the Icelandic common name for them.
Wednesday’s are usually O/our day. He will be no more then a whisper, a shadow for weeks at a time but Hermes always shows up for our weekly date. Last week He was late, this week He showed up early, the Tuesday night instead of the Wednesday morning. I found out my friend had passed away that day, He said it was why He came home early. He’s home now in the sense that He won’t be leaving on any Hunts while I’m conscious. More like His behaviour last year at this time. As I was gushing over Him because He was HERE, I apologized for calling on Him so much recently since this time of year is hard on Him. He smiles, stroking my cheek; His hands are dirty, He still smells of blood and sweat and horses. He whispered softly as He pulled me into His arms.
My love is boundless.
Then He played me this song, while it isn’t “O/our” song, it is still very fitting. Much love to my SisterWife for introducing me to the song in the first place.
Soldier by Gavin DeGraw
I find inspiration, kennings, promptings of the Spirit in the strangest of places. Currently reading Dune by Frank Herbert; Saw the movie many years ago, my father instilling a love for the book even though I’ve never read it. Here is a passage that struck me. It rings true for ALL my spouses, mortal and otherwise.
Jessica spoke, shattering the moment. “Besides, Wellington, the Duke is really two men. One of them I love very much. He’s charming, witty, considerate…tender-everything a woman could desire. But the other man is…cold, callous, demanding, selfish-as harsh and cruel as a winter wind. That’s the man shaped by the father.”…
Prayers for the Dead and Dying.
Prayers for those who wish to join them.