Ways of Being Spirit-Married

•October 28, 2014 • 4 Comments

In a recent post called “An Outsider’s View of Godspousery,” the author quotes a particular godspouse talking about their life with their deity, and remarks – quite positively – “What strikes me here is the sense of domesticity.” I too have noticed this in many writings by godspouses – their relationships seem to echo human marriages in many everyday sorts of ways, as if they simply had an invisible, but human, wife or husband. Someone to have their morning coffee with, to talk to about their day, to sleep with at night. Now, while that can sometimes be a warning sign (a god is a god, after all, and it seems some people are quick to forget this, or may be engaging in a bit of wishful thinking to satisfy their loneliness), it is not necessarily a “wrong” way to go about things, nor is the point of this post to criticize. Rather, I think it might be helpful and important to talk about other types of dynamics, that still might fall under the general heading of “godspouse” but are not focused on the everyday or domestic aspects of marriage. Not only do some human marriages and partnerships diverge from this model, but deity/spirit relationships are simply not equivalent to human ones, for many reasons – and therefore we shouldn’t expect that they will adhere to our preconceived notions.

In fact, in my experience, one of the most dangerous traps one can fall into regarding deity relationships of any kind, is to expect them to be a certain way (what we desire, what others have, what we’ve had in the past, etc.) rather than being open to what they are, for us, right now. The potential for making this mistake is exacerbated by the wealth of online sharing by godspouses and devotees, which can have the unfortunate effect of starting “trends” and inadvertently setting up an idea of “how these things happen” which will never apply to everyone. I talked a bit about this in my post “Apart from the Crowd.”

My spirit marriage, for instance, is not just like a human marriage (not even a non-traditional one) and it is certainly not just like having an imaginary boyfriend. I do conceptualize it as a marriage, because that has certain relevance to our situation for many private reasons (and we did have a wedding, which took place in both worlds simultaneously, with spirits as witnesses), but whenever I approach it too much like our culture’s concept of marriage (especially when I am unduly influenced by other people’s dynamics), I lose my footing. Because what I have is more of an intensely intimate magical working relationship – something perhaps like the cunning folk and their spirits, more shamanic than romantic. There are many things my spirit-husband gives me – artistic inspiration, spiritual abilities and power, etc. – but comfort and casual companionship are not among them, nor do I expect Him to care about the minutiae of my mundane activities. Likewise, what I give Him is mostly on an esoteric, magical/spiritual level, and not primarily emotional. That is not to say there is not love, attraction, passion, and commitment, but it does not always manifest in ways that would be recognizable to people with a traditional marriage in mind. Which is not surprising, of course, as my Husband is a spirit with markedly inhuman priorities, desires and needs, and I am not exactly typical in regards to emotional or mental composition.

While my Husband might come to me at any time, He is not generally present with me 24/7 – nor would I want Him to be, any more than I’d want to be with any person all the time (I live apart from my human partner, and value solitude). We do not share regular meals, because His kind has little interest in food – though we do share drinks, and other entheogens. I don’t wear a wedding ring, but instead have several tattoos for Him, and wear a variety of jewelry that expresses different aspects of Him depending on how I’m currently experiencing Him (because, again, it’s all about being present to what’s happening in the moment). Our time together is often more focused on doing work on behalf of His entire group of spirits, who have been with me for almost 25 years, than on simply the two of us, and that’s not only okay, but it’s exactly what makes our relationship so important and sacred to both of us.

Yes, there is intimacy – on a level beyond what I could have ever imagined – and it is personal, and it is what makes our bond so powerful. But it’s not primarily about feelings, however wonderful it might feel sometimes, it is about doing magic, joining forces on either side of the veil to affect both worlds at once. Our marriage is a conduit, and taking that step – moving from having a spirit-lover to a spirit-husband – was a commitment to the Work as much as to Him. And while it can be difficult at times (as any relationship is, especially a deity/spirit one), it is absolutely what I want, and fits my perspective and priorities – albeit I seem to have been molded into a person who would want this, after years in the company of my spirits.

I am sure there must be many other ways in which a god- or spirit-marriage (or similar union) might manifest, other than the typical romantic, domestic model, and I would love to hear from others who have experienced such. The more we talk about the myriad ways of relating to Them, the better we may prepare those new to these paths, as well as reminding ourselves to stay true to our own experiences rather than (even unconsciously) mimicking our impressions of others.

Yule Incense Cones

•October 27, 2014 • 1 Comment

IMG_3496My last batch of Darkwood incense cones sold out in a day – I’m currently trying to get ahold of the ingredients to make more, but in the meantime, here is another scent – “Yule“.

Featuring balsam fir needles, birch bark and mugwort, this incense evokes the sacred nights surrounding the winter solstice, around the fire in the dark, cold Northern lands. It is also strong and woodsy, like the Darkwood, but with its own unique notes.

I’m selling these in batches of nine (for the Nine Worlds) and only have eight batches available, so get them while you can! (I’m saving some for my own Yule rites, and to burn for Odin in the interim.)

Magpie & Rook

•October 20, 2014 • 1 Comment

In one form or another, scavenging plays an important part in my magical practices. I hunt for bones, I hunt for mushrooms, I hunt for art materials, I hunt for unexpected treasures. Thrift stores and flea markets, to me, are liminal places where anything might be found. When I go to these places, I wear charms for hunting-luck and weave small spells to help me discover the right things, just as I do when I go out to the wetlands looking for dead animals, or walk through the forest searching for entheogenic mushrooms.

Now and then I find things that are beautiful or special but don’t feel like they’re meant for me. Or, I own things for awhile and then feel it’s time to pass them on. Until recently I’ve been throwing these into my Goblinesquerie shop along with my handmade jewelry and ritual supplies, but it finally felt like it was time to give them their own place.

Announcing my new all-vintage Etsy shop, Magpie & Rook, a collection of treasures from the 1880’s to the 1980’s – housewares, paper ephemera, toys, antique books, jewelry, and anything else that catches my eye. Right now you’ll find everything from an 80’s Narnia board game to a 1910 Fortune postcard to a ceramic eyeball salt shaker to miniature photos of the Winchester Mystery House. I’ll be adding items frequently as I continue to scavenge. Come check it out!


The Only Choice

•October 10, 2014 • 8 Comments

Morpheus Ravenna recently wrote about how she managed to get injured just enough to knock her out commission for anything but writing the book she had promised to her goddess in the allotted timeframe. She says:

“The Gods are not fucking around. When you hand yourself over to Them, They can break your bones, end your life or alter it completely, send you down pathways that foreclose other avenues of choice and ability, and perhaps what should be most sobering of all, transform and sculpt you from the person you were into the person They feel would be most useful to Them.”

I certainly am familiar with this particular process. And how just because something serves Them well, doesn’t mean it’s exactly great or fun for us (as John Beckett said, “we are signing up to do holy work, not to receive holy bliss“). The better conduit I am for my spirits, the less my personal experience of it matters – yes, I do get benefits from the deal overall, but they’re not always the ones I think I want, at the very least. (And talk about Them molding us – more often than not, if I’m not getting what I want, They change what I actually want rather than changing what I am getting.)

Morpheus relates all of this in the context of warning people not to jump in to making major commitments to the gods, because those oaths are binding and have real, sometimes unpleasant consequences. She notes that you should fully understand the terms. This is, of course, extremely good advice.

I, on the other hand, made my first agreement with my spirits when I was thirteen years old. I had NO IDEA what I was getting into. In fact, I accepted Their offer without even thinking to ASK what They wanted in return, from me. I’m not entirely sure how I managed to actually survive such a monumentally foolish act. Perhaps They simply realized that – given my propensity to pursue what I want to extremes – I was more useful to Them as a long-term tool than something to use up right away (not all spirits are necessarily this calculating and unsentimental, but mine are for the most part).

Actually, come to think of it, I almost didn’t survive. As a teenager I tried to live a mundane life for a couple years (having rejected these spirits and all things spiritual/magical when it got too scary). After awhile, I got into paganism, but had no intention of dealing with Them again. Then, my chronic depression reached a new low, one that I can see retrospectively might have destroyed me. It was only by recognizing what my deal with these spirits had done to me – permanently, regardless of how I felt about it afterwards – and acknowledging that I would need to continue to keep up my end of the bargain, that I began to lift myself out of that hole. (As I’ve said before, depression seems to be my shaman-sickness; only doing spirit-work gets me out of it.)

Almost a decade after the first one, I made a new deal with Them – this time I made sure to be clear about what I would have to give, not just what I would get, although I found it surprisingly difficult to keep that in my head when I was thinking about it, since They are tricksy. And then about a decade later, I made yet another oath – all of these being variations on the same theme, with increasing levels of intensity. And even then, when I really thought I knew what I was doing, when I had years and years of spirit-work under my belt, still I did not fully appreciate how it would change my life – even my internal sense of self and consciousness. It was the catalyst for a topsy-turvy couple of years – and I’ve only recently begun to integrate everything and feel okay about it all.

But there’s the thing – it didn’t matter how I felt about it. Even when I was mourning all I’d lost, even when I felt abandoned because my ecstatic experiences changed so much they no longer hit the same emotional notes I was expecting and comfortable with, even when I was physically sick every day and complaining that I couldn’t enjoy anything, even when I felt like I was starting from scratch over and over… I did the work. I held up my end of the bargain as best as I possibly could. I endeavored to learn from every setback. I didn’t allow myself any crutches (not for long, at least) because those crutches would be exploited to break me. (Like Galina has said that she “trusts Odin to be Odin,” I trust my spirits and my god to hurt me if that’s what it takes to crack me wide open, and it often is.)

Lately I’ve seen some people make some pretty shabby excuses for not Doing The Work, and it usually boils down to feelings. The thing is, at a certain level of commitment in this line of work, you don’t really get to indulge what might otherwise be perfectly valid and understandable feelings. You don’t have the luxury of dropping things while you navel-gaze, or have an emotional crisis, or just simply feel scared or exhausted or worthless or lonely or any other feeling that’s going to naturally come up during this work – or during your life in general.

It’s useful to have an Odinist as a partner sometimes, they’re very no-nonsense – whenever I am feeling overwhelmed or frustrated by any of this and say something like “But aren’t I allowed to just feel [such-and-such perfectly reasonable thing]?!” he just responds “No, you’re not.” I have to put it aside, because it isn’t helping me do the work.

As Morpheus related, even when you ARE doing the work, sometimes the gods and spirits STILL do something that seems harsh, just to make sure. Once you’ve made those oaths, it’s pretty much out of your hands. But I think of it this way – would I rather let these things (negative feelings, uncontrollable circumstances, etc.) control me, and make excuses, and know I am failing in my duties, or would it be better to do what needs to be done as best as I can, and at least have that accomplishment to look back on? Maybe my spirits have molded me into the person that will keep choosing the latter. Regardless, it seems like the only choice when it comes down to it.

Reminder: Cartomancy

•October 7, 2014 • Leave a Comment


Just thought it might be time for a reminder (or announcement, for those new to my blog) that I offer divination services in the form of trance-assisted cartomancy. Readings cost $30, some of which goes toward offerings for the spirits involved in the work. More information can be found on my Cartomancy page.


•September 30, 2014 • 6 Comments

Offerings: homemade beer bread, sheep’s milk cheese, local apples and hazelnuts, handmade incense, beeswax candle, Gebo of goose wing bones from last year’s Michaelmas sacrifice, deer scapula found on the hike there, paper snowflakes (as inspired by a recent dream), dark ale

View of the shrine from afar under the dusk sky. Offerings are set on a pile of rocks at the top of a hill, surrounded by dark woods. I sang the invocation of the Hunt I received last year.

View of the shrine from afar under the dusk sky. Offerings are set on a pile of rocks at the top of a hill, surrounded by dark woods. There are houses in the distance, but no one nearby. I sing the invocation of the Hunt I received last year. On my way back, I play my bone flute on the dark paths, and keep feeling eyes on me from the trees behind me.


•September 30, 2014 • 7 Comments

Étranger (or, What it’s like to slowly go mad from spirit-work)

You’re in a room that’s familiar and strange at once.
It’s your room, but little things are off -
you’d swear that picture used to be over there,
and that bunch of dried flowers is new.
You seem to be missing a few books,
and there are a few books on the shelf you don’t recognize….

There’s a scent, too. It’s also familiar, but it doesn’t belong here.
It reminds you of something from your childhood, perhaps,
something you haven’t encountered in a long time.
You keep getting a whiff of it, and remembering…

It’s that lamp, you’re sure of it – something about its soft yellow glow
as dusk falls outside (or has it always been dusk?)
makes you feel a bit funny, like the world beyond your windows
has disappeared, or become a cardboard cut-out, just make-believe….

You’re alone in your room, but you keep having the impression
that you’ve just been talking to someone.
You don’t know who, but you’ve been having a long conversation,
and you were supposed to do something for them – but you can’t remember why.
And there’s no one else here.



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