An Unwritten Letter to the Straight Boy

When I first saw you,
My heart skipped out for my entire
High school career.
As though Cupid had come down,
Plucked the bloody drum from my chest,
And lost it for three years.

 

Your kindness gave me a kindling hope.
It blossomed in my bosom.
Falsifying and blinding me
To the fact
That you were the white stag,
The distant, unexplored planet,
The green light across the lawn
On the cover of my favorite book.
The itch within my skin,
The fog on the sea of my brain,
The Lighthouse of my sight,
The precious commodity
That many covet, and few could obtain.

 

You had that smile
That would brighten my dim eyes.
Making your golden skin,
And sunlight hair glow
With confident radiance.

 

You would hug me
With your marble arms.
My heart would crack
Like precious china
Scraping against the bottom
Of the sink.

 

The desire would boil the water of my soul
Bubbling over the seething pot.
Tears would fall hard and fast
Like summer hail destroying
A carefully tended, sacred garden.

 

What a bitter bind that was.
A missed step
A sudden dizzy spell
The shooting star that
I was too late in looking up
To see.

 

On trips we would room together,
I would stay awake
Hearing your breath,
Feeling your warmth,
Wanting your touch,
Foreseeing that my hand would
Come back scorched and mangled
In the steel-trap jaw
That was the heterosexual norm.

 

You knew.
I knew that you knew.
How could you not?
Whenever we locked eyes,
However briefly,
There was a flash flood of need.
Then you would look away,
To the safety of your illusion,
While I would have to build a raft of weeds,
And row to a dark cave.

 

Looking upon you caused
An inner scream
That would exit my orifices
In perspiration
And jumbled words
That a preacher might well have mistaken
For demonic possession.
Looking upon you sickened me,
Fed me with happiness,
Filled me from the toes to my split ends
With a loathful love.
No matter how much I bled it out,
No matter how many times I stared into the
River that was to be my tomb,
No matter how many times
I cried until I would have
To drink that filthy river-water
To quench the parched sand-dunes
That were my eyes,
You blighted my brain
Like some lonely boy
That you sit with at lunch
Because he as no friends,
And he stalks you
Because you’re now his only companion.

 

I don’t have to try catching
The elusive hue of your eyes
Across a music stand, anymore.
I don’t have to creep to the edge
Of the bed,
So that you won’t wake up near me,
Leaping with the fear
That I had molested you in your sleep.
I don’t have to worry about you brushing near me,
Making me stifle a burning shiver
Of yearning.

 

You were just a high school crush
That dropped off the plinth
Unto which my heart landed
When that fat cherub
Remembered where he put the damn thing.

 

Eric Jeffords, May 1, 2013

You are Destined for Greatness

When I was young,
I was told that I was destined for greatness.
“Why?” I would reply.
“Because, pet, everything you touch becomes beautiful.”
I believed that.
How could I not?
I loved her.

I’m still in this cesspool.
A big fish, surrounded by tadpoles
Who are deluded into thinking
That these tiny streams lead
To a brighter future.

Or perhaps to a different pond.

Fuck. That. Shit.

I’m still told that:
“You’ll go far, kid.”
With fucking what?
With this mediocrity?
With this big fin,
And these huge gills?
No, the current is too strong.
And I can’t swim against it.

I’m walking on this treadmill,
It’s not going anywhere,
And I’ve long forgotten why.
It’s raining,
Or it could be tears.
Tears of broken pride,
Tears of fucking trying too hard,
Tears of giving up,
Tears of exhaustion,
Tears of pushing. So. Much.
GRIT YOUR TEETH AND BARE IT.

He told me he was going to take me
To the Mecca of Music.
I was to be his bitch,
And in return
I would have Song.

And then he left.

He left me stranded,
In the rain,
On the road,
In a field,
With a hoping heart,
And a winning smile.

Like some One Night Stand
That leaves in the twilight.
When I wake up
There’s this cold patch
Of sheet.
Leaving me frozen.
Taking from me just
A little bit more sensuality,
A little bit more sexuality,
A little bit more of that feeling
That love is possible,
And romance can spark.

I met another boy today,
His smile was pure,
His voice sweet like sugared cherries,
His skin was cream, dusted with cinnamon.
Curly hair,
Curling ‘round my fingers,
Curling into my nose
With a sweet musk of man.
Like pine after rainfall.
Like fur.
Like leather.
Like life.

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
More tea, please.
Calm the nerves.
Calm my senses.
Calm this blood-pulsing twist of wood!
I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

Inside is Prospero’s Tempest,
He looks at me with those eyes.
Eyes I’m too distracted by
To notice the color.
Breath hitching,
Heart galloping.

I notice his body.
His lean, pretty body.
In his eyes I’m reflected.
My gaunt face.
My pale, moonskin.
My thin puppet-body.
My mediocrity.
My rage.
My wrenching sorrow.

So I become a prude.
I become a flake.
I won’t give up the secrets of my body.
There are no secrets to give.

I don’t play nice with others.
So I’m arrogant.
“Above the rest.”
When really I watch,
How envious I am.
They’re all happy.
Seemingly.
I’m nothing.
No emotion.
Just a big meh.
Like that fucking saying:
“You are destined for greatness.”

Eric Jeffords May 1, 2013

Familiars, Faery-Mates, and the Other Self: Part III

“Never wake a sleeping sorcerer…”

Part I, Part II

In my previous posts, we discussed the Familiar and the Faery-Mate. Now, I shall write about the Other Self.

The Other Self is, quite simply, the astral self. Though I am loathe to use the term astral, it is easier to explain it as such. It is the part of the soul that flies forth, that shape shifts, that borrows. It is the Shadow, the Mind, the Second Skin, as it were. Witches have the ability to control this Etheric Double and cause it to do have effects upon the world and the Otherworld.

Of all the these Other beings, this Other Self is the most readily available, and the easiest to be aware of. How often have you fallen asleep, dreamt of flying, only to fall INTO your body? Or felt as though you were floating above your body, or peeling away from the physical self whilst meditating or trancing? That is the subtle body.

It is very fragile, and can easily be possessed, which is why when travelling it is so necessary to protect it with charms and ritual protection. Whenever one deals with the Other, it is wise to create some sort of protection.

I have found the best way to access this subtle body is simply going into trance, however you personally feel that needs to be done. For me, rocking back and forth and drumming with rhythmic breathing work really well for me. Or if one simply wishes to feel what the other body feels like, sit for a moment and focus your awareness on yourself. After a while there will be a tingling sensation throughout the body. Focus on this sensation, and feel where it is coming from. Where does it go? I have been able to cause this sensation to rock in and out of my body, and eventually fly off. Often I have awoken in the night with this sensation of rocking side to side within my sleeping body, all the while with my sight slightly above my physical form. Freaked me out the first time it happened, hehe!

Eventually through working with this subtle self, one can project their consciousness into it. This may come naturally for some, harder for others. For me it was kind of hard, and I have found that entheogens really free up my ability to slide out of my skin, as it were. The first time I took Sarah’s mandrake ointment was the first time that I felt truly comfortable slipping out of my skin and into the air. I felt no fear. I turned into a bird, and could physically feel the rain beating against my wings. And I could “pop” out of that body and watch my self, and then go back into it. And now I’m completely comfortable.

It’s all about being comfortable letting go, and knowing that you will be safe within the correct environment. The Mask exercise given earlier will also help with this. Then you can use this subtle body to borrow and ride animals and plants, be in two places at once, dream, fly, shape shift, what have you. It is part of you, and what is part of you, you can control.

Further Reading

A Deed Without a Name, Lee Morgan

North Star Road, Kenneth Johnson

Call of the Horned Piper, Nigel Jackson

Witch of Forest Grove 1, 2

Familiars, Anne Franklin

Animal Speak, Ted Andrews

Seeing in the Dark, Deatsman and Bowersox

Witchcraft in England, Christina Bole

Familiars, Faery-Mates, and the Other Self: Part II

“Nightmare” Nicolai Abildgaard

Part I, Part III

Continuing our discussion, and because I can not sleep right now….

In my last post I discussed Familiar Spirits, what they are, and a few ways of discovering this part of the soul. There is another part of the soul, and that is the Faery-Mate, the Fetch-Bride/Groom, Faery-Wife/Husband, the Incubus/Succubus, et cetera. There is some debate over whether or not this being is separate from the soul. I feel, personally, that it IS a part of the soul, specifically that part that is tied to the Otherworld in the human sense. And like the Familiar, the Fetch-Mate has its own personality.

Historically alongside familiar spirits, witches were also said to have communication, and sometimes intercourse with faery beings, or just spirits of an otherworldly nature in general. Sometimes these spirits were human, sometimes they were animal, and sometimes a hybrid of both. Isobel Gowdie spoke often of her intercourse with the Devil and other spirits. She described his phallus to be very long, and the semen to be frosty cold.

This union between the Other and Human is very important, I feel. It completes within the witch the Wholeness, the mystic completion between Faery and Man, just as Adam was unto Lilith. The Faery-Mate is teacher, lover, student, and friend. For some witches, they have always known who this was, for others they must find this part of their soul again. And yet others may not have one, which is apparently a common occurrence.

Strangely, it has been very difficult to find any sufficient information on this entity. Most of the information out there is about the “higher self” and the “holy guardian angel”, which I think are basically the same thing…? I don’t know, I’m not a ceremonial magician! But, according to Lee Morgan, who has been the only author with a goodly amount of information on the Faery-Mate other than in passing, this entity need not be so difficult as some of the lengthy rituals to contact one’s HGA.

When I was reading the parts in her book about the Faery-Mate, I was struck by the vision of the little girl that I mentioned earlier. Morgan wrote that many witches always knew that they had these mates of the Other, even from a young age. I went back to some of my journal entries, and found references to this little girl, and a flood of memories from my child hood sparked into my mind. But she had vanished from the pages of my more recent entries, ever since age fourteen or so.

I have not a clue what had happened to this girl. I went to the spot that was vivid in my mind where we used to play, thinking that she was perhaps a spirit of the dead, but she was not there, even though I called out to her. Nothing. A friend of mine informed me that this entity has changed shape to a more masculine figure, which I thought interesting. Traditionally the Fetch-Mate is the opposite sex of the witch, but this is not always so, as apparent by a couple anecdotes of witches in Morgan’s book.

The methods for “Wailing for the Demon Lover” are quite a few, actually. One which I think is rather spooky and witchy is taking a spool of thread to some lonely place in at the edge of a wood, and tossing the thread in, pulling it taut. Then the Seeker is to call for their Fetch-Mate. When s/he feels a tug on the line, contact as been made. The witch is then to follow the thread and meet their Mate. Definitely going to be trying this form of divination, I think. Who knows, perhaps I will find someone in the wild wood.

WITCHES by Erica Jong

One may also petition to dream of the Fetch-Mate, which may (and probably will) result in some sort of sex dream. Once some sort of contact is established, one may feel so inclined as to set up a shrine to their mate, a space upon the table as it were. Over time an incense may be crafted as to call the up, though the most effective way is singing your desire for them. The fetch-mate is part of your soul. Having the desire to be whole and complete is an easy desire to have.

A method of practice, and really more of a mental exercise, that was developed by Yeats (the poet and occultist) consists of finding within yourself this wholeness to be more open to visitation by the Fetch-Bride. A similar exercise can also be found in Hedge-Rider by Eric deVries. The practice consists of visualising a mask before you, and giving it properties which you feel are most opposite to your nature. Include in this your fears, your guilts, et cetera. Effectively create a Shadow-Self Mask, if you will. Eventually when you feel that it is visceral and real, reach out and place it upon your own face. This merging will create a mysterious third self that is whole and complete, and supposedly open to the Fetch-Mate.

I had used a similar practice in my routine, and found it to be very comfortable. At times it brought up some deep issues, but those must be dealt with. We cannot face the Other weighed down by human fears and guilt, for it can be used against us.

At any rate, the Faery-Mate, as I stated, is one’s connection to the Otherness. It brings Wholeness to the person, and awareness of the Unseen. And I have only just started on my path to calling to my own Faery-Self. And perhaps I don’t even have one! It will be as it will be.

Familiars, Faery-Mates, and the Other Self: Part I

Matthew Hopkins’ “The Discovery of Witches”

It is the familiar spirit of the place;
It judges, presides, inspires Everything in its empire;
It is perhaps a fairy or a god? When my eyes, drawn like a magnet
To this cat that I love…

~Charles Baudelaire

Part II, Part III

Throughout the existence of witches, they have usually been accompanied by familiar spirits, spirits of the dead, or some sort of faery or otherworldly being. It was said that the witches were given this spirit by the devil, and he taught the witches to feed their familiar through an extra teat, feeding the spirit blood (life force) to empower them to do witchcraft. Or the spirit may have been passed down through the family, perhaps even being an ancestral spirit to guide the witch on the witching way.

In our modern era familiars have fallen out of favor, though there are still some that refer to them. Now, familiar spirits are usually referred to as spirit guides, guardian angels, or the higher self. And then there are others that believe that the familiar spirit is a flesh and blood, domesticated animal. This is completely possible to happen, but not every pet is a familiar.

What is a familiar? Also known as the Fetch, a familiar is simply the animal self. It is the part of the soul that is the most primal, the most deep, the one that has the need to survive. It is also the connection of the witch to the primal source of creation, of life, of discovery, to the fire in the head. The familiar spirit usually comes in the form of a bird or animal, but sometimes as insects, reptiles, and amphibians as well. The familiar was traditionally wild in nature, but the historical trials also take note of dogs and cats, probably the most traditional.

What one must realise is that the familiar spirit isn’t just a dog, or a raven. It is the Raven, the Dog, connecting all those of one species to the ONE. Now, this might sound like Native American cosmology, but the fact of the matter is that in Europe our ancestors practiced in a very similar vein. Those of European descent have, sadly, forgotten that we were also once animists, otherworld travellers, spirit workers, and shamans (used in the anthropological sense). We must remember, and the way to do that is to discover ourselves again. Let us begin.

The discovery of the familiar spirit is no easy task in our day and age. We have been indoctrined at a young age to forget that the Other even exists. Some of us, however, when we were young had “imaginary friends”. I certainly remember a little girl that I used to play with, but no one knew she was there. We would play on teeter-totters together, teach each other songs, and read to each other. But I will discuss her more when I get to the subject of the Faery-Mate. This indoctrination is caused by our parents, our society, the domination of the Christian worldview ever constant around us. And so we must remember the worldview of our ancestors.

This is easily done, I think. In the early modern period there are a lot of trials that refer to witches denouncing Christ and the Church. I think we can draw from this. When I was younger I read Paul Huson’s Mastering Witchcraft. In the beginning of this book he asked the reader to recite the Lord’s Prayer backwards, literally. Maybe he meant it in satire, maybe he didn’t, I don’t know, but I did it anyway! And I was surprised that I felt a certain weight come off of me. I noticed that I was no longer felt guilt for a number of things, among them my own sexuality. I discussed this with my therapist, and he thought that it was wonderful!

And so, this seemingly Satanic act can actually be a benefit in casting off the worldview of the Christians, to start with a clean slate, and to immerse ourselves in the worldview of our ancestors. The Witch of Forest Grove makes this note about modern witches:

“Modern witches no longer actually believe in the Otherworld, the Gods, or the existence of spirits and those who truly want to believe have such a strong fear of them being real that it prevents them from ever interacting and communing with them let alone ever advancing in their craft ability. Today many have boiled witchcraft down to psychology and magical scientific procedure – this is not true magic nor is it witchcraft.”

I completely agree. Even in my comparative mythology class, the professor boils down the spirits and gods to mere archetypes of the mind. However, those of us who have worked with spirits (be it of plants, animals, or the dead) know and have experienced the visceral nature of their power. And so it was with our ancestors. One must return to this state of openness, and the realisation of Spirit if one wishes to discover their familiar spirits, to discover their soul.

It starts very simply in making a deliberate call to the Otherworldly powers. Not any specific gods, not any specific spirits. A friend once advised me to “go out into the wilderness, get yourself good and lost, and then petition the spirits to come to you and show you the Path. You will either go mad, or come out a witch.” Now, I’m not suggesting that you do this, nor do you need to; there are plenty of house spirits, and for the most part a lot of the seemingly wild places of the US are not so wild. Especially where I live: there are many homeless that stay in the woods, and it isn’t always safe. But the petition can still happen.

Go to a liminal place and ask the spirits to guide you on the path. Dream of them, write about them, read about them. Read about your ancestors, read about their worldview, and adopt it into your life. I should stress that you shouldn’t start blaming everything on the spirits, that’s just scapegoating, and a very Christian thing to do. If you stubbed your toe, then you stubbed your toe. But, if you tripped over that nice forked branch there after giving offerings, or communicating with spirits, then that staff is probably for you. Go with your instincts, they will serve you!

After immersing yourself in the Ways, how do you go about discovering your familiar spirit? I say discover, but it can be very much like a journey. There are numerous methods, and most of the modern ones that speak of “power animals” ask the reader to go on a Pathworking to discover the beast. But, Pathworkings take time. One needs to do the pathworking many times so that the symbolism is embedded into their subconscious, and blah, blah. There are far more effective ways.

I discovered mine really by accident. Or, rather, the events that led up to it were an accident. I imbibed salvia divinorum, and travelled to the Otherworld in search of my fetch beast. I fell forever, glued to the floor, transformed into a wolf. And then I found myself in a ruinous area near a pool of water, and above the full moon shone brightly. Across the water was a woman, a beautiful woman. Her skin was alabaster white, and she wore a wondering silver dress. And then she turned to me, and I saw that the other side of her face was dying, ashen, and flaking away. And she pointed at me, and I popped out of my body and watched as my body rotted, and burned away into a pile of ash. Then I watched as she appeared behind me, and like a potter creating a vase, reshaped my body and gave me a mirror made from a giant clam shell. And in that reflection I saw the image of a black wolf with green eyes, and then I saw my self reflected in those eyes, and the reflection became me. And I knew, as I had always somehow known, that this wolf was my most primal self.

A witch feeding her familiars from England.

Now, I’m not saying that you should take of poisons and fly in spirit vision, though it is apparently quite effective. There are other ways. One way that I used to confirm the discovery of my familiar spirit was divination. Go to the edge of a wood, or a graveyard, or someplace that you find to be Between. And there, for three nights, leave offerings of milk to your familiar spirit. On the third night, bring a dagger wrapped in a winding, white cloth. Call out to your familiar spirit to reveal itself to you, and then begin unwinding the dagger about your torso, calling out the name of a beast upon each rotation: “My fetch is a rat, my fetch is a fox, my fetch is a cat, my fetch is a mouse!” However the names come to you. And then when your dagger is finally revealed, the last name that you call out is your familiar spirit. Leave an offering, and bow or curtsy to the spirit and go on your way. From this point, do not do anything until you receive a sign confirming this rite, be it a dream, or what have you. Then you can start giving offerings to the spirit. Perhaps set up a shrine, or make a vessel within which the familiar may reside. This divination was found in Lee Morgan’s A Deed Without a Name.

One way that I simply love, but learned about after the fact, is a kind of shape shifting dance. I believe the Witch of Forest Grove also wrote about this, but I could be wrong. I learned of this technique in The North Star Road, but also in Familiars by Anne Franklin. The Seeker should take hirself to a clearing where xe can set up a fire, and also room to move around. The night should be clear, so that one can see the sky. Johnson advises to find the North Star, and to focus on that as Axis Mundi, and World Tree. Lay down a circle, if you feel so inclined, of protection against evil spirits. Or burn an incense that discourages such spirits, such as benzoin and sage. Then call up all the powers of the animals. If you worship a god of animals, call to him as well to lead the animals on their way. Call them near and far, and see their approach in your mind’s eye. Then begin to dance in a circle around the fire. To me it seems appropriate to have a drum, or a rattle, or some sort of trance making device, either drumming yourself or have someone drum for you, or a recording. Either way, call up the animals, and specifically ask that your familiar spirit come to you and “ride” you. Go with your impressions, and begin to dance as an animal would dance. How does the animal move? How does it speak, if you feel inclined to sing? I have never performed this technique, but I think I will make time for it simply for its primal, and shape shifting nature.

“The Love Potion” by Evelyn de Morgan

What about flesh and blood familiars? Well, they certainly exist, as I have met quite a few pets that exude Otherness. If humans can have connections to the Other, why not animals (and plants for that matter!). The only book I have on flesh and blood familiar is the book Treading the Mill, by Nigel Pearson. He suggests that the owner should be at the birthing of the animal, and to feed it with drops of blood (blood which can also be used to “feed” the familiar spirit). The pet should also be slept with, and basically be about the witch at all times. He states that such an animal can be used for scouting, sending of spells, and for borrowing (that is the riding of the animal via the witch’s own spirit). I do not have any pets, so I can not attest to this at all. I will say that not every pet is a familiar, nor do you -need- a pet to have a familiar. Just a small edit here: This feeding and sleeping with the familiar pet imbues it with the witch’s life-force, instilling within it part of the Self. Thus it eventually becomes a part, and separate to the witch, just as akin to a spirit familiar.

I mentioned that plants can also be familiars. Probably the most famous of these is the Mandrake doll, housed in a “coffin” and petitioned to protect the witch, protect the home, and bring luck and fertility and fortune to the household. There are many ways to create this doll (or alraun) but that will be for a different post.

The familiar spirit can be called to assist in spellwork, to protect the witch while flying, to send spells, to spy, to protect others, for shapeshifting, et cetera. The trials also speak of witches have many familiars, which is completely possible. Some of these familiars are only around for a short while to teach the witch something, others many be around for a long time, others come and go. I know that Raven flits around me from time to time. A witch can also create artificial familiars used as a temporary existence, but I have heard of such familiars becoming permanent spirits that act very much like a discovered familiar.

Tomorrow I shall go into detail on the Faery-Mate, and later the Other Self.