#ancestral spirits

[babylon38ad]

Ancestral Prayers

[voicesfromthelight]

A Spirit Visited Me This Morning

A little note for the day: This morning, as I was waking up, a spirit visited me. I find that the hypnopompic state - that is, the one in which you are about to awaken from sleep - is the state in which I am most receptive to receiving clairvoyant visitations. It happens even more often than in the hypnagogic state, which is the state you are in when you are about to fall asleep. But there’s something about those in-between states of consciousness (including lucid dreaming), in which alertness and relaxation are in just the right proportion to each other to make us more receptive to spirit communication. (There must be a neurological explanation for it!)

It was a very pleasant experience. The woman appeared to me smiling and waving warmly, in a sunny garden setting, as if “flagging me down” into her native environment, and introducing herself. I had no idea who she was. She was a big, “earthy” woman, with very short hair, and seemed to be of mixed Latina heritage. I sensed that her name was Rosie or Rosa. She showed me that she had loved to eat, and the implication was that diabetes had contributed to her passing. 

Because I had no idea who she was, I asked whom she was here for. I sensed that it was someone I was connected to in some way, but I didn’t know who or how. She gave me the first name of someone with whom I had interacted only marginally, a couple of times, through a Facebook group for spiritual advisors. I knew of no one else by that name. 

I’m usually very much against psychics and mediums springing information on unsuspecting targets. It always smacks to me of ego-tripping, and points to poor boundaries. However, I knew that if I didn’t check with the person the spirit had named whether the information matched up, I wouldn’t know whether to trust my intuition and spirit communications of this nature in the future. So, I asked the person for permission to message them directly, and gave them all the information I had. It turned out that Rosa was their great-grandmother! I got the sense that she wanted to make sure that this person was taking good care of their physical health, so as to avoid the same problems that she herself had had in life.

I’m so glad that I took the risk and did what I needed to do to pass on the message. I’ve had one or two experiences like this before, in which I didn’t do so, and they still haunt me to this day, no pun intended! Sometimes we just have to take that leap of faith. (This is also the second time this has happened in connection with this Facebook group!)

A day in the life of an ever-developing medium. This experience made me happy, and renewed my self-confidence.

[shamandrummer]

Shamanic Initiation Dreams

Many people in today’s world are being called by Spirit to become shamans or shamanic practitioners. A yearning exists deep within many of us to reconnect to the natural world. It is a call to a life lived in balance with awareness of Nature, of Spirit and of Self. We live in a culture that has severed itself from Nature and Spirit. Humans have lost touch with the spirit world and the wisdom of inner knowing. The spirits, however, have not forgotten us. They are calling us to a path of environmental sanity, to rejoining the miraculous cycle of Nature.

Spirit calls us to a path of shamanism in many ways. It can be as dramatic as a life threatening illness or as simple as a dream. Some people receive signs of a shamanic calling through their dreams. Future shamans may dream of spirits and ancestors or hear their voices. Others may have recurring dreams in which they meet certain animal or teacher figures that are manifestations of the very spirits who are calling them. Also, in dreams the candidate is sometimes given initiatory directives and learns which objects will be needed to perform cures. These instructions are given by the spirits and by the older master shamans and are equivalent to an initiation.

During a shamanic dream initiation, the candidate usually experiences suffering, death, and resurrection, including a symbolic cutting up of the body, such as dismemberment or disembowelment by ancestral or animal spirits. The candidate dies a symbolic death and is then restored and brought back to life, whole and empowered. Sometimes initiation dreams begin even in childhood. Usually, the premonitory dreams of future shamans are followed by mortal illnesses if they are not rightly respected.

The souls of the dead are regarded as a source of shamanic powers among some tribes like the Paviotso, the Shoshone, the Paiute, the Lillooet, and the Thompson Salish. In northern California this method of bestowing shamanic powers is widespread. The Yurok shamans dream of a dead man, usually a shaman. Among the Sinkyone the power is sometimes received in dreams in which the candidate’s deceased relatives appear; the Wintu also become shamans after such dreams, especially if they dream of their own dead children. In the Shasta tribe the first indication of shamanic power follows dreams of a departed mother, father, or ancestor.

Among the Mohave and the Yuma of southern California, power comes from the mythical beings who transmitted it to shamans at the beginning of the world. Transmission takes place in dreams and includes an initiation scenario. In their dreams the Yuma shamans witness the beginning of the world and experience mythical times. Such dreams may include a mystical journey to the archetypal Cosmic Tree or World Tree. Among the Maricopa, initiatory dreams involve a spirit taking the future shaman’s soul and leading it from mountain to mountain, each time revealing songs and cures. Ultimately, it is the spirits who choose and make the shaman.

[kdmatheson]

“MANIHUNI”. kd matheson

[autochthonousone]

The Small Council

(( Bear with me while I post some of my non-FFXIV writing! ))

“Tobku. S’yer watch.”

The kobold stirred and growled as Tommen shook them awake but consciousness steadily came to the small warrior. Tokbu lazily rose upward into an upright position as their eyes shifted in and out of focus for a moment before settling on the human that had woken them. Tokbu wasn’t unaccustomed to the dark, in fact Tokbu preferred the night, it was simply to irregular sleeping pattern that had become part-and-parcel with travelling alongside their companions. Traipsing around in broad daylight wasn’t exactly a kobold’s greatest strength.

“Okay.” the raspy, harsh sound of Tokbu ‘whispering’ called back to the human, “I’m going, I’m going…”

Tommen gave a silent nod, patting the small dragonkin on the shoulder several times before standing and making his way over to a nearby tree where he had set up a makeshift hammock using … many feet of rope. It was definitely time for some shut eye. Tokbu, however, had made their way just outside of the camp for the night to find an advantageous place to keep watch. After a spell of wandering Tokbu decided upon a small cliff edge that overlooked the Fields of the Dead from a fair distance above. It was an ideal location for keeping eyes peeled for unexpected guests.

The skies were clear on this particular night, leaving the immense sea of stars to be plainly seen. The stars, on nights such as these, appeared to Tokbu to be startling like a snowstorm frozen in place. Their gaze lingered heavenward as they settled down on the ledge with feet dangling over the seeming abyss below. There were times when Tokbu missed it; the great expanse of the frigid north. There was a certain serenity to being that far away from … well, everything. However, it wouldn’t be the same. Not any more. Not since Sheindrylth had changed everything for the young kobold.

The mere thought of the terrible white dragon caused Tokbu’s blood to boil. Not only for the indignity of the dragon’s betrayal, but the ignominy of Tokbu’s own complicity. That it took such an act of brutality and villainy to open the young hunter’s eyes to the nature of dragons. Every life but their own was expendable and their appetite for cruelty could never be satiated. The kobold attempted to calm down but it was far too late. The fury overtook them as their senses burned away for just a moment. 

Then clarity returned.

“Tokbu.” A voice that sounded of jagged teeth scraping against solid stone called out  from behind, “Tokbu!”

Tokbu jerked their head to the side with a snap, eyes narrowing at the source of the new voice. It was Kruttuk. At one time the chieftain of Tokbu’s tribe, but now they were simply another one of the dead. Though that certainly didn’t seem to stop them from continuing to call upon Tokbu as though they were both still in those caverns beneath the Spine of the World. Yet they were nothing more than an apparition of their former selves.

“All-Watcher.” Tokbu finally responded after they composed themselves at least in some measure from both the surprise and the sudden onset of anger.

“Some All-Watcher you turned out to be, Kruttuk.”

Another voice joined in on what had previously been a peaceful evening; this one more measured and less shrill. Tokbu’s gaze shifted to the new arrival, but there was no mystery as to who it was. Rhaze, a kobold which Tokbu had never actually met during life. They had been the All-Watcher of the tribe before the time of Kruttuk. A sorcerer of noteworthy talent, a rarity amongst Tokbu’s tribe; the Shatterers.

“Leading the tribe to ruin and disgrace.” What Rhaze’s voice lacked in auditory harshness it made up for in implied barbs.

“Ruin and disgrace!?” Kruttuk’s jarring voice snapped back, sounding incredulous and offended, “Ruin and disgrace!?”

The ghostly kobold pointed a finger at Rhaze who, even in their ethereal state, held a countenance that edged on domineering. It was clear that this particular kobold held themselves above the others and Kruttuk seemed hesitant to question them even in the face of their indignation.

“Yes, most importantly disgrace!”

Rhaze’s words were sharp and direct, it was clear enough that Rhaze’s opinion of Kruttuk was never particularly high even in life. Death seems to have only made the sorcerer’s opinion drop further. Amid the exhausting quibbling that had begun between the two spectres yet another voice inserted itself into the discourse, though this voice was decidedly meek when compared to the others. Even for a kobold.

“But the new All-Watcher will atone for us.” The timid voice insisted with an unexpected gravity.

It was Eris. Small, even by kobold standards, Eris was a kobold that Tokbu knew nothing about save for the fact that their spirit frequently interjected in times of internal turmoil. Even Rhaze and Kruttuk, having devolved into near unintelligible Yipyak, suddenly quieted and shifted their attention to the newest arrival.

“All-Watcher.” Rhaze commented snidely as they composed themselves and useless dusted their spectral robes, “Where All is Nothing.”

Rhaze gave another sharp glare in Kruttuk’s direction to punctuate his statement. Tokbu bristled. Rhaze was much to take in all at once and, having never met the sorcerer in life, Tokbu was slowly finding that they were glad for it. As powerful as the sorcerer might have been, they were an intolerably abrasive presence. Perhaps Tokbu might have felt different in earlier times and would have been glad for firm and powerful leadership.

But that wasn’t now. Definitely not now.

“Tobku is the All-Watcher now, like it or not, Rhaze” Eris, again, insisted gently, “And Tokbu will prove to Sheindrylth that the Shatterers remain worthy.”

“Tokbu is the greatest warrior our tribe has seen in generations, Rhaze.” It was Kruttuk’s turn to chime in, “Even you, in your height, would have been a fool to challenge them.”

The most recent All-Watcher seemed to take some pleasure in that assertion. Though it has little to do with their own doing, anything that could be used to belittle and undermine Rhaze was a valuable treasure. Kruttuk had spent all their years up to Rhaze’s death being berated by the sorcerer; the contempt ran deep.

There was only a prickly scoff in response. For all the pride that Rhaze might possess they couldn’t deny that Tokbu was certainly exceptional amongst their kin. Perhaps even more so than Rhaze themselves. Loathe as they were to admit it. Nothing that they said to the contrary would come off as anything but petty and weak. So they remained silent.

Eyes were now upon Tokbu, All-Watcher of the Shatterers, expecting an echo of their grand assertions. However, Tokbu simply remained silent. Where normally Tokbu felt fury at all things Draconic only an ember of despair burned now, as eyes dropped to the ground. After all the indignities, all the suffering, all the horrid injustices against them at the hands of Sheindrylth they could only think of was how to make amends and how to impress that tyrant.

“Greatest warrior, perhaps.” Rhaze’s churlish tone rose back up, “But also our smallest mind.”

Both Eris and Kruttuk turned to glare daggers at Rhaze. The sorcerer weathered their collective gaze with prideful confidence. There was no remorse to be found for their sharp words. Tokbu simply remained silent for a time; that ember of despair flaring to a searing white-hot.

“Surely if Tokbu continues to show their prowess by felling Sheindrylth’s rivals our matron will, once again, look upon us with favor.”

The grating voice of Kruttuk offered his thoughts in a misguided attempt to encourage the beleaguered kobold warrior. Yet, though it flew in the face of all that Tokbu had come to believe and value, it had done just that. That searing despair in the pit of his stomach transformed to outrage. A glowing ire that reflected in Tokbu’s eye as a roaring fire.

“Yes.” Tokbu finally replied, their intense gaze settled upon Rhaze now, “I’ll show our matron who is worthy.” 

Were Rhaze afforded the abiTlity to shiver, they would have under that gaze. Fear was an emotion that was well known among kobolds, part and parcel to daily life for the dragonkin, but rarely to Rhaze ever feel it sourced from another kobold. Most particularly when the sorcerer was already dead.

“See, Rhaze?” Eris once again injecting when it became clear that tensions were running high, “Tokbu will be our savior. We have nothing to fear. The Shatterers will ascend back to our rightful place.”

Tokbu ripped their gaze away from Rhaze, who had begrudgingly relented by turning away from Tokbu in the hopes that no one would seem them quaking. Now the warrior’s gaze shifted to Eris, the enigmatic diplomatic of this ‘council’. They were unknown even to Kruttuk and Rhaze, two of the smartest kobolds, though in very different ways, that had become All-Watcher in recent history.

“Yes. I will.” Tokbu asserted with confidence bolstered by anger.

“Good.”

Eris’ reply was simple and short, there was nothing more to be said. They simply passed a meaningful look to Tokbu before fading entirely from view and returning to the Ethereal. Tokbu appeared mystified, uncertain as to what the look meant, but quickly shook the confusion off just in time to turn and watch Kruttuk fade from view.

All that remained was Rhaze.

The sorcerer remained longer than the others, leveling a distrustful stare in Tokbu’s direction. There were no words to be given, only a silent sense of doubt. Whatever it was that Rhaze was thinking, they never shared it before they simply vanished into nothing. They were gone, all of them, at least for now. There was no doubting that they would be back again. The next time Tokbu’s anger became too great, as they always did.

There was a sense of relief that washed over Tokbu now, visibly relaxing and returning to their perch at the cliffedge. Once more their eyes drifted heavenward.

So startling like a snowstorm frozen in place.

[shintowitch]

An incredible thing about delving deep into one’s ancestral spirits is thinking about the fact that practically every material living being on this earth has common ancestors somewhere down the line. Now, these great ancestors are difficult to find and contact, and even if you do they scarcely communicate in any way we can comprehend, being so vast, so alien, so wondrous, so unfathomable, so very ancient beyond all human creations and ideas, swollen with time and the life-lights of an immeasurable number of descendants.

They may even come under my definition of being gods.

[hellbornbabi]

My ancestral spirit altar! Crystals, bones, fossils, teeth, prayer beads, shells, a spirit home, anointed candle, incense burner, spirit "tree house" 🌱☁️✨🌾👼🍷🦄🍄🔮🌙

[spirit-talked]

Who are the ancestors?