The spirit world
Steady rain falling outside the bedroom window is becoming my usual night music. Last night it was accompanied by a storm. Tim came home, his eyes on fire with excitement. "The veil between the two worlds is thin tonight," he said. This one and the spirit world, he meant. The latter was making its presence known last night. He put out food and drink for the spirits. Then he told me stories about his encounters with spirits.
I never know what to think. Most of the time, I am a little scared.
After we moved in here, Fergus was having trouble adjusting. Eventually I attributed that to a UTI and moving issues, but one night, he was particularly skittish. The whole evening just felt off in an undefineable way to me. Of course--at that point, I was worried about Fergus. When Tim came home, we talked about it. Was it because I could sense something wrong, or did I work myself into a panic by the power of suggestion? I'll never be able to distinguish. We held hands as we talked, and I was scared to take my eyes off him, because I thought if I did, he'd morph into another being while my gaze was away. (Why? Why why why? I can't put into any rational words why I'd think my love and protector would become something sinister.) He had me secure the house, shut the doors and windows, turn on the alarm sytem. Then he performed a protection spell. I don't know what that was like--I played the piano to keep my mind occupied, and to give him privacy for it. In the end, the part I participated in was burning sage to cleanse each room. Tim instructed me how to do it, the direction to wave the sage stick, the pattern to walk each room--the details of which I don't remember now.
Afterwards, I felt better. Safer. But was it the act of the ritual, or did we really secure our apartment and protect it? The next day, Tim made cryptic comments about there actually being malevolent spirits in the house the previous night, and that our spells had worked.
Last night, when he told me about his experiences, I could only be scared. But this morning--still dark, still stormy--I'm so curious about it all.
I never know what to think. Most of the time, I am a little scared.
After we moved in here, Fergus was having trouble adjusting. Eventually I attributed that to a UTI and moving issues, but one night, he was particularly skittish. The whole evening just felt off in an undefineable way to me. Of course--at that point, I was worried about Fergus. When Tim came home, we talked about it. Was it because I could sense something wrong, or did I work myself into a panic by the power of suggestion? I'll never be able to distinguish. We held hands as we talked, and I was scared to take my eyes off him, because I thought if I did, he'd morph into another being while my gaze was away. (Why? Why why why? I can't put into any rational words why I'd think my love and protector would become something sinister.) He had me secure the house, shut the doors and windows, turn on the alarm sytem. Then he performed a protection spell. I don't know what that was like--I played the piano to keep my mind occupied, and to give him privacy for it. In the end, the part I participated in was burning sage to cleanse each room. Tim instructed me how to do it, the direction to wave the sage stick, the pattern to walk each room--the details of which I don't remember now.
Afterwards, I felt better. Safer. But was it the act of the ritual, or did we really secure our apartment and protect it? The next day, Tim made cryptic comments about there actually being malevolent spirits in the house the previous night, and that our spells had worked.
Last night, when he told me about his experiences, I could only be scared. But this morning--still dark, still stormy--I'm so curious about it all.
posted by LE at 8:30 AM
2 Comments:
Charity said:
I'm totally curious about this stuff too. I'd love to hear Tim's stories sometime. They sound like they'd be great to hear around a campfire some dark night. Um, but that kinda gives me chills thinking about it, so maybe a well-lit room with beers all around?
Your description of the apartment cleasing kind of reminds me about when we moved to Marion, into that big old house on Elm St. My dad and several people from the church went through the whole house and prayed in order to "bless" the house. I think it was their way of getting rid of the creepies that sometimes reside in old houses.
Okay, seriously? I had just smudged my apartment for the first time in years tonight. Right before I read this.
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