Having sort of stumbled onto a method of connecting with Slavic God forms after reading Alan Richardson’s ‘Dark Magery’, I am convinced that this is a powerful magical method of work. I chose the duality Perun and Veles and by taking on the form of each god in turn, I discovered more magic and synchronicity that I had eve done before. I wrote this up in a short book called Chasing Dragons in Moravia which is available in Kindle format and shortly, in paperback. In it, you will get a sense for how what appeared to be random visits and events were actually synchronicities that opened up a whole world of understanding.
I wasn’t able to communicate everything. Some of it is for me alone and some things are too big an experience to even begin to describe with any spiritual depth. I’d need a Vulcan mind meld to do that!
Anyway, based on that, I decided to Chase the Goddess next. I have developed a very strong feeling for the Goddess in her many guises and so I am going to explore two or possible three Slavic goddesses. What I find will be the next and probably last book in the series that began with Chasing the Shaman.
Over the last week, I began my preparations and I identified a duality to begin work with – Morana, goddess of winter and death – and Vesna, goddess of spring and fertility. It was then that I realised that we are coming up on winter and spring so I can align everything over the next half year with the Moon and Equinox, Solstice. Just like the Slavs would have done. I also signed up to do some remote study and learning with a real and practicing Slavic Grandmother and dreamer shaman. I shall perform her Moon exercises and also the ancient Slavic rites of killing Morana by building her effigy and then burning and drowning her in the spring. Yes – sounds fun doesn’t it!
Today I started my meditations and workings to start trying to take on the form of the goddess in my imagination. I must say that the initial result was one hell of an experience and ranks up there with some of the most amazing spiritual experiences of my life. Tears? I cried my eyes out. Couldn’t help it. Here is what happened.
Morana is a tad scary. So a cautious approach seems appropriate. I begin with a qabalistic cross and then settle in to find that state of mind that I need to reach. I can’t help calling out her name in my mind and immediately I hear the reply “Come to my bosom!” The words echo in my mind and I am in a winter scene. It’s an iced lake in between snowy forests and mountains. Cold and windy. The wind is as sharp and as cold as ice. In the center of the ice lake stands a tall white woman. Above her circle large dark crows in ominous fashion. Her hair is the grayish white of a once lush mane of darkness now turned to pure white except at the root where I can see gray. Her face is pale and tight skinned. She is beautiful and would have been as a young woman. There are hints of wrinkles at her eyes, but the taunt white skin doesn’t allow for many wrinkles. Suddenly, I am there looking into her eyes of ice. I instinctively hug her like I would my grandmother. She is, after all, THE Grandmother. As I rest my head on her bosom, no longer the fullness it once may have been, I start to get a whole series of impressions.
I see rocks covered with a thick lush moss of the darkest green. Water rushes between the rocks and there is no plant life save for that lush green moss. It is a cold, cold, place and the sandstone rock feels like ice. She is ancient. Older than age. She has existed throughout time as we know it. She has experienced everything there is to experience and is wise beyond wisdom. I gain a sense that she is the doors of death, of transition, every living thing gives up its experience as it passes through to be preserved in her nature. She isn’t so much death as the doorway to rebirth. A gate through which we must pass endlessly, through which all life must pass each time it reaches its cycle end. And in passing through, we leave our experiences behind with her to emerge on the other side innocent and refreshed ready to rise anew. She is the gate of the endless circuit of life – all life. She is the World Tarot and a point on the endless circle of life and death. I’m not afraid. I thought I would be but I’m not. I’m awed and tears run down my face.
Again, I sense that there is no sentimentality with her. Sentimentality has no place here. None. This is a natural process. The law. The way it is and has to be. I begin to see her in various guises and forms – mostly hideous representations like Baba Yagga and even the Mare or nightmare – rotting witch that sits on your chest in sleep paralysis. Fear of death and fear of unbeing seem at play here and in a sense, she is the agent of life’s unbeing, so it seems rather apt. She strips away your being in transition. She is liminal and at a boundary. She is the boundary! A trickster and shape shifter like Veles. She looks over the transition of all life whether human, plant or animal. She is everything that has been. Ancient, coldly beautiful lacking any emotion or sentimentality.
Suddenly, it’s gone again. She is gone and yet I think I knocked on her door. I got a glimpse of something that cannot be communicated for I know not how to do that. The goddess I saw was the snow Queen, yet I didn’t feel she was evil or for that matter good. She just is, has been and will be.