This wonderful poem by Amara Bronwyn MacEachern Hollow Bones sums up, in a nutshell, everything about the specialised shamanic path that I write and teach about.
We locked up our wisdom into our bones
And swallowed the keys
They sank in our rivers of blood
And we forgot the maps
Because we had to forget the mysteries
To keep them safe.
We wove our hair into brooms
And swept over our paths
And then burned the earth with our rage
We didn’t teach our children
It was the only way to protect them,
But in them we planted seeds, seeds and keys
And told them stories and riddles and songs
With no roots, just tangled threads
That would take years to unwind
Just enough time
For the rains to fall again
and put out the fires
For the dams to break
For the rivers to flood
For the paths
to be walked again
For the soil to breathe
And as the old bones crumble
Deep beneath the rubble
We find we’ve always had the keys
Our stories and our maps
Our paths are revealed to some
And the seeds grow again
The threads are unspun
And woven again.
By Ishtar Babilu Dingir
If you dig deep enough, underneath all the plastic hype, bling and glitz, Yuletide is actually a real and very potent time of year for Earth magic, as the fiery arrow of Sagittarius flies towards the Bull of fertility, and the Horned One of Capricorn springs into action at the Birth of the Radiant Child on the Winter Solstice.
In this article, I explain how you can join in the magic too, wherever you are, by turning yourself into a living and breathing advent calendar!