Practical Warrior in a Scary World

A practical warrior thing you can do in a scary world

The world seems a scary place, I’m not going to rehash all the scary stuff in the news recently, but you know what I’m talking about right? When it gets scary it is perhaps a normal reaction for pagans, especially followers of a war goddess such as the Morrigan to think about warrior stuff. Self defense, martial arts even hitting the shooting range. However a lot of people I speak to express frustration at where to begin what can be done immediately. Tragic and terrible events are difficult to comprehend and can leave you feeling powerless and responding to them is the job of the authorities. However there is a fairly simple thing you can do which I believe can help.

***Learn First Aid***

Learning first aid is a brilliant life affirming thing, often it’s possible to get a degree of training for free, paid for by charities or even your workplace. In the US it is possible to get EMT training via community colleges, in the UK you will have to make do with a St John’s Ambulance or Red Cross Course (or get creative in how you access this kind of training). Even getting a qualified first aider to show you the basics without any associated qualification is better than nothing. As a minimum you need to be able to deliver CPR to adults or infants, deal with choking, bleeding, broken bones, shock and burns. Being shown how to use an Automatic External Defibrillator (AED) and an Epipen takes minutes and could quite literally save a life. In an incident a little training goes a long way, add a basic first aid kit and the good you can do expands exponentially. When you are undergoing your training interact with your trainer and talk about worse case scenarios like multiple casualties and responding to the aftermath of violence. First Aiders love to relate the training to real life incidents and I find I learn as much from the conversations around training as the training itself. Also ask them about improvisations for when the incident exceeds the contents of the first aid kit supplied.

When there is an incident in which people are hurt, the immediate seconds and minutes while the authorities respond are vital. The more first aiders there are in the community the faster the response can be. People can be like antibodies rushing to the affected area. They react and try and help as well as they can but without training this can be to little avail and it is a sad fact that sometimes the people helping are just another problem for the authorities to deal with. Where there are multiple casualties, the first responders will often leave people who know what they are doing to get on with it or enlist their help in responding to the situation. Obviously as more responders arrive they will take over and this is right and proper.

Having first aid training will allow you to know what to do in the aftermath of an accident, or violent incident (if it is safe to do so). Instead of thinking “somebody should do something” you can be the person who can do the thing. Finally, first aid makes sense for the really minor stuff, it means you know what to do when someone (perhaps you) cuts themselves with that ceremonial knife or burns themselves on a candle.

 

From a original post made in the Call of the Morrigan Community by Rob Preece

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Honouring the Blood: Call of the Morrigan by Awen Clement

As dusk fell we closed the gates to the ordinary world, allowed the land to envelop and cradle us. Quietly we came, healers and priests, craftsmen and warriors, gathering in Her name. Raven Queen, Battle Crow, Morrigan.

We cast a circle of light and dark, of flame and blood and weaving.  We asked the land to hold us, we asked the ancestors to stand with us, to guide us and guard us. We called our Queen in rich voices of fire and honour.


We cleansed away the old versions of ourselves, prepared to step into new skins, new shapes of our souls.  One by one, turn by turn we submitted to the needle. Gave our blood and received her mark. Gave shape to our prayers, made promises in ink. Witnessed by our brothers and sisters, nurtured by the hearth fire.

We wove together a pattern of story and song, of prayer and devotion as the land and the ancestors looked on. Brave voice of the young spoke in honour and faith. Men cried tears of truth. Women wove prayer and flame in devotion. Some sang in voices not their own and the drum echoed the heartbeat of the world.


And the Great Queen heard us call. She came to us. Accepted our offerings of blood and flesh and honouring. Some trembled, some wept, but all held steadfast in the truth of her sight. Her voice like the gentle roar of the river, we were held out of time. She gave voice of both warning and blessing.We gave thanks, we feasted and then one by one and two by two we slipped away, across land and sea. Returning home, forever changed, ready to face what is to come.And so it was done. The ashes went cold and the land fell quiet.

 ****

This writing is a reflection of my experience at Honouring the Blood: Call of the Morrigan Retreat 2016.Awen Clement – 2016 (c) This piece was originally posted at www.wildmagpiewoman.blogspot.co.uk

Awen is the Wild Magpie Priestess who serves The Morrigan and Brigid. She leads circles and workshops in the West Midlands (UK).
www.wildmagpie.co.uk
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This is my pain by Izzy Swanson

This is my pain

I long to grow. I feel the pull to something larger, something more than me. Something in me knows I will heal from this. My heart’s desire waits for me on the other side.

Deep down in the darkness inside of me I feel the shadow around my soul. It pulls at me from deep within my womb. I find in the darkness a frightened little girl. She holds me tight. She begs me not to leave the shadows.” What are you afraid of? Who made you feel this way?” I can hear the years of words spoken to me of my soul’s damnation and she says to me, “If I leave this darkness people might see me. They will see my pain. I will be unclean. It will hurt them. It will scare them. I will be weak. I can’t let people see me. I can’t be weak.” “What are you really afraid of?” “That I will fail, that I don’t belong here. I am a fraud. If they see me I will lose all that I love.” She falls into my arms weeping.

The memories of hidden pain resurface. I hold her. I love her. I make her promises. I cannot go until we are whole until she trusts me enough to protect her, until she is safe. This, this is darkness. This is trauma. This is pain. We hide inside of it. We run to it. It saves us. How could we ever believe that it isn’t all our fault? How can we ever believe that the world outside will accept us when we watch our world pretend that people like us don’t exist? When we watch our world remind us that we deserved it? How will we ever feel safe enough to climb out if we can’t believe that we will be loved, that someone will see our pain and say I will not run?

Izzy Swanson – 2016 (c)

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The Promise of Death by Izzy Swanson

I want you to tell people about how they will die, how their soul will die, how they will break and how it will be the most beautiful thing that has ever happened. From the broken pieces they will put together a being that knows who they are, that no longer owes anyone an apology, and no longer has to explain themselves to anyone in order to receive worthiness.

You no longer have to try so hard to get people to love you because you will love yourself so much it will no longer matter. You will be ok with the words you speak. You will know that the words you share bring authenticity and wisdom and that they have value even when you think no one is listening. Someone is listening. The world is listening. It is watching. We are dying. We are falling down into so much pain and fear and anger that we are desperate for change. We, the world, is watching you. We need to see you bare your soul. We need to see you be a metal head or a quilter or a dog walker. We need to see the joy you derive from living. We need to see you break and we need to watch you put yourself back together because we need to know it won’t kill us. We need to see the beauty of your change. We need to know that we won’t be alone when our time comes and we need to see that no matter what we are all the powerful beings that we keep wishing we were inside. You know the one, that little girl or boy who always wanted to be a super hero. That’s you. And no one can tell you anymore that it’s not because you fought your way through all the fear and self-doubt brought on you by all the things society taught you to believe about how someone else deserved more than you or the pain you endured at the hands of your loved ones. You survived and not only did you survive you thrived and you learned all the little things about you that make you uniquely you.

This this is why I am here. I am not here to write your pretty stories about how to meditate. I am here to find the broken pieces of your soul and bring them back to you. I am here to watch you tell yourself “I am worthy.” I am here to watch you embrace the lost child and integrate her innocence back into your soul. I am here to guide you when the time comes for you to fall apart. I am here to take through the little death, the dying of your soul, and bring you back out into the light. So when I come to you with wisdom, I can’t come in little bits and pieces. I need to tell you to rip your heart out and put a new one in. I need to tell you it’s ok to die and I need you to know that when you are reborn you will be a beautiful butterfly. I promise you. I promise you, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

Izzy Swanson – 2016 (c)

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The Truth

by Izzy Swanson

The truth of who I am is not pretty. I didn’t come to be who I am today with years of training as a Shaman. I didn’t travel to another place to have the wisdom of the ancestors handed down to me. The truth is, well there are many truths, and one of them is that I was born this way. The other truth is that I had to dig myself out of a pit of insanity, abuse, trauma, and 16 years of drug addiction. The truth is that my spirit and my body have been battered, demoralized, and broken in ways that hurt me to even speak of. Much of what I have seen, much of what has been done was carried out at the hands of my family or abusive boyfriends but if we are talking about truth so much of what has happened to me I did also to myself.

Why I am here? Why am I telling you this? Because the value of my trauma is that I am who I am today. I need to say this to myself as much as you need to hear it. I need you to know it because I have never believed that anything I said or did was right, or valid. I needed to be defined by the opinions of others and yet even when I started to feel like I was getting it right it was never enough. I still would look to someone else and judge the quality of my work by their definition of what is right and wrong. You need to know it because you need to know that the things you tell yourself and the emotions you feel are not that by which you should define yourself. You need to see that there is a way to feel whole, that there is a path to unbrokenness. You need to trust that the pain that I have broken my body with is the strength by which I will help you heal yourself. This is the truth, of who I am, of who you are, of why we do this work.

I will tell you my story, at least as much of it as I can without breaking others who were part of it, and I will tell you how I came here and maybe if you can stay with me through the story you will find that I can show you a way to survive yourself. I will guide you through the darkness in the pit of your soul and show you how to embrace the balance of the dark and the light. I will guard you in the liminal spaces. I will mother your tears. I will show you the peace of the warrior and I will make you a priestess of your own life.

The time has come to shed the lies, to destroy everything that you know, to make your sorrow your biggest gift, to use your pain to achieve your goals1. We are being called to the front lines of a war that is about redefining who we are as individuals, as a species. Whoever convinced you that this needed to happen peacefully, quietly, and completely in the light has not told you the full truth or maybe you did not see the other half of the message. We will have to first stand at the doorway to change and face our fears. We may even have to break, shatter into a million pieces, before we will know the complete truth and power of who we are. For powerful is what you are. It’s what I am and it is what we are together.  Do not be afraid even when the walls fall down and you are overwhelmed. Do not fear. Do not run from the immensity of who you are, of who we are. Warrior Spirit, Queen, Priestess, Guardian, Teacher, Mother, do not run from your soul’s purpose. We are here now for a reason and even if I can’t clearly define it in this moment, I will be here to help you see it. I for one did not come here to run.

02/08/2016

Izzy Swanson of Feileacan MinistryIzzy Swanson owns Feileacan Ministry in Austin, Texas. She is a Shamanic Reiki Master, Teacher, and Priestess. She specializes in healing soul wounds and working with PTSD, trauma, and addiction.

You can find her online at: www.transformationreiki.com as well as on Facebook at www.facebook.com/feileacanministry and Instagram at www.instagram.com/transformationreiki/

 

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Courage

When I turned 40 my daughter came by and with a smug mouth stretched wide over red speckled cheeks, she handed me a card. Inside the card was pin that declared in a loud font with electric colors “I’ve survived damn near everything” I spit my drink out. We had a good laugh. She’d gone and found me the perfect “over the hill” gift.

When I started to write this, I realized with a lot of trepidation that the reader is going to need some background. At first I thought I’d share in a very general way, because I don’t’ want anyone to focus too much on the details of my encounters (and other reasons). I wrote pages of smart little notes using a different color pen each time I sat down over the last month. I organized quotes. I studied the lore again looking for analogies to use. This morning I prayed to the Great Queen for some guidance or direction again. And then I threw all the notes out. It wasn’t authentic. It wasn’t me. This is how the Morrigan works in my life:

As implied with the birthday pin, which incidentally I still have, I’m a survivor. I’m not sure when I became a survivor exactly because the flash backs go as far back as I can remember. I’m going to try to give you a synopsis of some of the things I’ve survived. Brevity is a challenge so…. I was raised Christian. I feel like our Christianity as a household would’ve been mixed in with the white paint on the picket fence if we’d had one. Inside that false boundary though was something altogether different.

We had a smorgasbord of porn in our house. As a result, there was inappropriate sexual activity. My first sexual encounter outside of immediate family was being infiltrated at 12 by a man my much older sister brought home. After years of this infiltrating, I came out with it. My dysfunctional family could not or would not bring themselves to face what had happened and he wasn’t held accountable. In fact my sister married him and they had two children. But not to worry, the truth eventually came pounding on her door, they divorced, and he very recently hung himself. During these early years I am ever dreaming of snakes. Not one or two, great tangled masses of snakes. My gran assured this meant I was being chased by Satan and I needed to adjust accordingly, or else. I escaped life by walking to a place in the woods on the back side of a pasture with a little brook running near. It always beckoned with it’s soft mossy beds and the smell of trees that had been composting for eons. I named this place the Fairies Mounds. It’s still with me today.

Of course, I eventually rebelled against the family. In no small way. By fourteen years I spent most days anywhere but home. I partied in the surrounding cities with an older “more seasoned” crowd. I was searching for something. What I found was gang rape. The rapists did have the courtesy to drop me off at home later(a different home at this point). I’m very lucky, and I know it. I tell no one. I decide to get married and have a baby, because that’s the obvious answer to my misery. It will keep me safe. Still Christian at this point, pretty darn Baptist by now. And I’m still dreaming of snakes.

Fast forward through a divorce (at 18). I spent the following years alternating between working a trade in construction (which I still do) to support my daughter, getting a degree, and partying as hard as humanly possible to kill the flashbacks. I’d also changed my outlook on power at this point. I met my shame head on attempting to master my twisted view of sex by using it to my advantage. And many times it worked, other times I found more misery under those rocks. I did meet an awesome history teacher during this seven years of my “singlehood”. He introduced me to a lot of practices that I now see for the spiritual tools that they were. They were subtle land rituals. I also began to dream of talking ravens(maybe crows but for this, I’ll use ravens. They told me things I no longer remember much of.  I do remember they foretold of a trip I would eventually take with this man up the east coast to NYC and Toronto. A trip that would change my world view. I’d never been anywhere since we’d left the Air Force and settled in tobacco country where my parents grew up. I was happy. I was terrified. So I left him.

I got married again in a flash. It stunts my tendency to turn towards the wilderness right? If only for a while. I’m still a Baptist, but I’d encountered some Greek and Norse mythology (history teacher), and I loved it more than more than I thought I should. Oh, and I’d read Arthurian literature. And yes, I identified with the seemingly tortured protagonist in Zimmer-Bradley’s books, Morgan Lefaye. No, I don’t personally feel she’s at all related to the Morrigan. I do think some who are interested in Morgan Lefaye find themselves wandering through the lore of the Great Queen at some point and that is not necessarily a bad thing. That‘s not how it happened for me.

This 2nd marriage was formed in utter sickness. There was absolutely nothing healthy about it. I’d chosen an abuser with several untreated symptoms. I had untreated symptoms. I’d been through a slew of counselors over the years. He did what abusers do. I seethed over his drinking and did what enablers and battered wives do. I isolated with self-help and “wommyn’s” spiritual books. The ravens started to come back. They told me more things I can’t exactly recall. I’d read about women’s religions, and a tad about Wicca, but always with the fear of damnation on my heels. But it planted a seed and I began to organize an exit plan. That’s when she first made Herself known to me in a way I couldn’t deny.

It was a dream that wasn’t a dream. It’s been about 16 years now and some of the details have gotten scarce. However, I’ll never lose the image of her standing there in a long dress, dark auburn hair, surrounded by ravens or crows, and that voice. A silky, bellowing voice traveling a thousand years to reach me (best description I have). We were in a field with many paths running through it. She pointed and said “You are on the right path”. She gestured towards a path and told me to keep trucking. I found out in the next 48 hours that I was pregnant with our second son, my third child, so I stayed.

I swallowed my fate. I raised my children semi-sanely until they were all in school. After which time I took it upon myself to fight my husband as viciously as he fought me. I drank and drugged away the Morrigan’s attempts at communication. At this point Badb and Nemain are making terrifying appearances. I also ignored visits from the Good Neighbors who had shown up at some point in this blur though they always found a way to affect my life. I became one of the most toxic people I’ve had the displeasure of knowing. I was mad as hell. I fought everything and everyone. I fought everything in this world and the next. I fought myself.

Finally, when a considerable police presence became involved in the marital bliss, we decided to split. I was somehow holding a job as an analyst for a large pharma corp. Not for long. I met a new person at work. I quickly lost myself in that relationship. We were both eventually laid off along with 3K others. And then I dug the deepest hole possible. I watched everything I ever identified myself with or as walk out the door. My beautiful home, car, sanity, my freedom, and finally my children.  I overdosed often. I stopped breathing on occasion and I seized too many times. My vital organs were failing and I welcomed it all. I also railed at my mother’s pastor in ICU “Where is your god now!?” Admittedly, this is all very dramatic. I was consumed by drama. And one day that voice from far away spoke to me again, and I started the long and bloody knuckled climb out.

That was about four years ago. Waking from that nightmare(death) seems likened to waking from a coma. It was raw, knotted, and terrifying. Now I attempt to manage a mean case of PTSD. In that first year I managed to get my children back. It wasn’t hard. The abusive ex had discovered new outlets for his aggressions. I had to take sedatives (under medical care) to get through court. I locked myself in my house for most of 3 years. I healed some wounds. I studied the Morrigan and developed a spiritual practice. I built a thick, tall wall around myself. I felt safe. I felt stronger. I dedicated myself to her in a formal ritual.

After the dedication she promptly decided to shake my little glass globe up again. This time she directed me to find others. I dug my heels in deep for a while. This was scary stuff. Finally, in June of 2015 I went to my first Call of the Morrigan retreat and I was mortified. I could hear the constant rattle of my teeth. I stayed anyway. I did what she directed me to do. I transformed and I grew so fast it was maddening. I reclaimed some of my lost power. And I discovered my shadow self. We didn’t get along.

A cycle worth noting in all that unverified personal gnosis above; During the times I turned my back to the call of the Morrigan and walked away from my sovereignty, I caused myself suffering. She poked, needled, and screamed. Some of the time, I cowered and suffered. I could turn away again and try to go it alone. I have a choice in the matter. My experiences have shown me that I am a much better person when I walk this shadowy path.

This past June, one year later, I returned to the retreat. It had become, for me, a sort of scale by which I measured my growth. There were moments I wrestled with my shadow. Panic followed. Not enough to hinder me from strengthening bonds in the community I’ve gotten to know over the last year. I didn’t need to hide in the tent. I did occasionally hold a hand. I reaffirmed my dedication by way of sacred tattoo on the first morning. The following day I served Badb by becoming her eyes. I left there still feeling the effects of her dark energy. I felt strong. And then I came home. Immediately I realized I’d left behind my best friend in a Tarot deck. Next, my family fell to pieces. And I sold the last thing I owned with title attached.(a good thing, towards my sovereignty of self) And then there was an incident that triggered a handful of my demons. I’m still in the process of doing the work it takes to embrace the many faces of my shadow.

I considered sharing many different aspects of what it’s like to be dedicated to this War Goddess who is always with me. I could talk about experiences with her as Prophetess or as Sorceress. Around those aspects I will share that the more I study her culture of origin, their land, language, and people the stronger and more intimate our relationship becomes. I could talk of experiences with the Others who often precede her. I could share more on my practice around the warrior aspects of this path. I don’t currently risk my life to protect others on a regular basis. I do work on strengthening physically with plans to return to martial arts. I stand for right causes and social justice. I also serve the Morrigan and my communities by way of supporting other survivors in their quests for self sovereignty. It’s in that spirit I share this. I read an article last night that spoke to me on this topic. I’ll share a quote:

“The most anti-capitalist protest is to care for another and to care for yourself. To take on the historically feminized and therefore invisible practice of nursing, nurturing, caring. To take seriously each other’s vulnerability and fragility and precarity, and to support it, honor it, empower it. To protect each other, to enact and practice community. A radical kinship, an interdependent sociality, a politics of care.”

I’ve found this community to be overflowing with survivors of all manner of traumas. We’re a hodge-podge of colors, races, paths, and genders. I’ve had chance to witness that common issues most of us struggle with at least once are typically around our worthiness in the form of our perceived weaknesses. I’ve also heard it said more than once that The Morrigan covets, or has affection for the wounded. I don’t feel like she covets the wounded so much as she knows how much we are capable of enduring. I want survivors, myself included, to always know that we’re called because of our strength, not the lacking of it.  We are strength and resiliency embodied. We are valuable to the Morrigan. We also have much to offer this broken world and its people if we fully embrace death of our old selves that so often comes with this call.

In solidarity,

Iníon Préacháin

Quote – Hedva , Johanna. Sick Woman Theory. http://www.maskmagazine.com/not-again/struggle/sick-woman-theory

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Drum journey to the Morrigan

This week we bring you a shamanic drum journey to connect with the Morrigan. You can use this journey once or many times, just shifting your intention. If you have never journeyed before or are seeking guidance before you begin, come join the Call of the Morrigan FB Community and ask your questions there before you start.

This journey was recorded by Rebecca Wright in February 2014 using an 18-inch frame drum and Dartmoor bone, for the now defunct site, The Shamanic Voice.

About: Rebecca Wright is a shamanic healer and teacher based in the Northeast of England. She is one of the founders of the Call of the Morrigan FB community and UK retreats. You contact her on Facebook at Call of the Morrigan page.

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Rise! From Victim to Victor

Rise! From Victim to Victor (HOW THE MORRIGAN CLAIMED ME PART II by Morrigan Odin)
I used to be a victim. A victim of domestic and other abuse. However, the worst abuse I have ever experienced was that I inflicted upon myself.  I relished being a victim. It bought me attention and the sympathy of others. I felt that  living in a constant state of drama and upheaval was the only way to garner attention. Whether that attention was positive or negative did not matter to me.

All of that changed once The Morrigan claimed me. She taught me I was in control of my own Destiny. She taught me to own myself, my actions and my mistakes. I then transformed from a victim to a victor. And then as a Walker on the Warrior Path, one whose life is lived in Her service, and the service of others.

She gave me the strength to first clean house in my life regarding negative attachments. By negative attachments, I mean to negative people and things. After an external housecleaning, so to speak, She guided me towards inner cleansing. I ceased negative self-talk. I stopped being my own worst enemy and became my own best ally. I learned to live life on my terms, and to stop trying to please others.

None of this happened overnight. Nothing worthwhile usually does. I still consider myself a work in progress. I am an eternal student of Life, of The Divine, of The Universe itself. I give thanks for that every day. That I possess the ability to change, to grow, to evolve. That gift has been granted to everyone, whether they are aware of it or not.

One of the most powerful influences The Morrigan has in my life is as an instrument of Change and Transformation. I once feared changed, feeling the hell I knew was to be preferred and defended over the unknown. The Morrigan has since taught me to revel in Change. She consistently strips away the unneeded and unnecessary from my life. This, inevitably, allows room in my life for the necessary, the needed.

So, I say to YOU, as The Morrigan has said to ME, “RISE!! Embrace Your Destiny! Cease being a Victim and become a Victor! Become a Warrior!!!”

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Warrior Heart

Hearty
Heartiness
Heart warming
Fire of our heart
Our very own hearth
There are so many layers of heart
Peeling off those layers has become my work
Facing that which is present, when the layer falls away
When did these layers become what I knew?
Each layer offers feeling as it falls
panic
fear
challenge
freedom
joy
My heart beats like butterfly wings; fragile, beautiful, open, sensitive, strong.
I reclaim the inner-most part of my being, my hearth.
My hearth fire roars and burns with passion.

About: Brooke Ravenwood is a priestess of the Morrigan, her work is reclamation, through rekindling fires within and supporting journeys towards sacred sexuality. Contact by email: brookeravenwood [at] outlook.com

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Cord Cutting, Web Weaving, and the Morrigan

One of my first experiences of the Morrigan was when She came to put right a pattern in my soul tapestry, one that I’d been working with for some time, but was stuck on – a strong pattern of mother-daughter violence that ran painfully through my personal life experience, and my ancestral lines. It was given to me to hold a point of healing for these – and, quite honestly, I was really struggling with it.

I am a healer. I work with the Morrigan frequently in my healing work for others as well as my healing for myself. She is a guide for me (or it might be more accurate to say She works through me), in many parts of this, including soul weaving and soul healing.

Here’s the thing: this stuff works. It works in a big way. It can heal things within us that we never imagined could be healed.

But also, for precisely this reason, this work needs to be treated with respect. It can harm as well as heal, through carelessness or inexperience even when there is no intention to cause harm.

I don’t want to put anyone off from working with cord cutting or any other technique. What I  would say is that if it is something you want to work with – especially if you want to work with it powerfully – take the time to learn about it, and treat it, and yourself, and the cords you are working with, with due respect.

If we have a pain in our bodies, we don’t typically grab a knife and hack away at it (or at least I don’t). Our soul stuff – and the energy lines that run between us and other people and situations – deserve equal care and awareness. Yes, you can grab that knife and hack, but why would you? And even if you did take a knife and cut away a pain in your body, you very well could be causing more trouble for yourself, right? It’s also possible for this to happen with soul and power work.12027276_10204876113278755_9120665887598788752_o

In terms of cord cutting and web-weaving, I’m always learning new pieces. I work with a number of guides, and the subtley and ruthlessness of the work fascinates me. It is an art. Like any art, we can grow into it and come to excel at it over time, with patience and practice.

You can certainly get help with this, (see your trusted local priest, healer, or shamanic practioner), or you can also do it yourself. For all of us, there are times when one or the other option will be most appropriate. If you are brand new to it, it is a good idea to begin with some help or teaching – whether this is from your guides or from another person who is experienced in these techniques (ideally over time you’d have both).

In all cases, here are some things it is worth knowing before you begin:

(1) It is possible to cut ‘negative’ cords or attachments to a person or situation without cutting away all attachment or connection to that person or thing. Often indeed this is exactly what is needed.

(2) Cord cutting works best when it is done under guidance – ideally with a guide who knows about weaving and working in soul tapestries and the web.

(3) If/when you cut cords, do it with the clear intention of working for the highest good of all concerned – send love, blessing, forgiveness, healing energy through that cord before you cut, and cut only in the moment when the balance is right. This is not new-age-y ‘all is love and light’, but clean practice and good sense if you are a healer working with intention (not a dabbler).

(4) You can ask your guides to cut or re-weave for you – sometimes they will. Thank them if they do, and follow up with any further instructions they offer.

(5) Cord cutting is not necessarily the first, the best, or the only way to work with a relationship or situation. (My early experience with the Morrigan was not a cutting, but a restoration of power into threads that sent a shockwave through the tapestry, transforming patterns and resonance). It can however be fabulously effective when used wisely and well.

For me, working with the Morrigan, and serving Her, is a living practice. The idea of personal sovereignty underlies and runs through everything in terms of my life and work with Her. Working consciously and consistently within my own soul tapestry and the web – sometimes under Her guidance, sometimes with others, for myself – are a part of this living practice, and a part of the blessing of working from a space of sovereignty.

This time of year is a great one for cord cutting, weaving and re-weaving, righting the balance of things as we move a step closer towards our winter dreaming. Blessings on your autumn cuttings, weavings, and re-weavings.

 

About the author: Rebecca Wright is a shamanic healer and teacher, and a daughter and priestess of the Morrigan. She is one of the founders of the Call of the Morrigan Facebook group, and this blog. Come and meet and work with her at the Call of the Morrigan UK retreat.

 

 

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