Only in pagan circles.
Christians will say God told them to do something. And they never scruple about talking to God.
But if you want weird religious experiences, talk to pagans. We've been kicked in the head, possessed, impregnated and more by our gods.
And I've been dead three times since my birthday. More specifically, I've been to the land of the dead twice, and dead twice.
I walked the path to the Land of the Dead the first time on November 15th in the Festival of Souls Labyrinth.
The Labyrinth is the same pattern from year to year. But every walk is different. I've done it three times in 13 years. The first, I walked and chatted with my three grandmothers. (maternal, paternal bio and paternal adoptive)
The second, right after I lost my mother and a good friend, was a dark walk down into darkness, with the candles dying in my wake. No one was there, except me.
This year was a quiet, meditative walk. There was only one other person in the labyrinth (the other cook) and we passed like shades, sometimes near, sometimes from afar. I understood then, there was no one in the labyrinth to see me or visit me from the other side. This was my journey. I was recreating a soul's journey to the Land of the Dead. I had to understand it. That I have to understand this, tells me I may be called on to serve as guide again.
I came to the center, lit some incense, breathed and grounded. Then, I stepped over the rows of candles and let myself out. Because when you serve Hermes Psychopompus you get a "Get out of Hades Free" card. My arthritic legs needed it.
On Saturday night, the 16th, Gabriel hosted the Primal rit.
We passed though the veil (we were draped in cloth and had it raised on the opposite side we entered, letting us into the circle) and were beyond the land of the living.
There was a tale of The Beast, and how, after death, we are allowed to run with the Beast, and dance, and explore, until we choose what we would like next.
We chanted and danced, literally until we dropped. Then we were raised back to our feet, back to life, and sent back to the Land of the Living.
It was a powerful thing and I was very quiet rest of the weekend.
After all, I had been dead and was back. That changes a great many things about perspective and attitude.
But after my return, I wasn't quite right. Things were dark, dim. Even a sunny afternoon felt bleak. And I was dim myself. Food didn't taste much. Nothing moved me. I hadn't smiled for weeks. And I realized, I had left something on the other side.
So, December 13, at midnight under the last dregs of the last full moon of the year, Gabriel sent me back to the Land of the Dead. It took very little, just energy straight into my brain.
I walked with Hermes on the banks of the Styx and Charon came for us. Hades and Persephone welcomed me. They said I had left a lot here and I needed to take it back with me.
Hades showed me a pile of scintillating glass, in a rainbow of colors. "All the bits of yourself you have thrown away and killed off. You need them back."
"How?"
Persephone put the glass into an amphora, raising it in a vortex and swirling it in. "Drink it down, dear. The glass will work its way out of your skin as you reabsorb the traits you need."
I stared at the vase, a good three feet tall and full of bits of sharp glass. "I can't."
"You will." Hades brooked no argument. He's a stern god and when he says, you do. He held the amphora and I swallowed, the glass flowing down my throat in a painful river. I drank forever, tears running down my face.
I went down, deep inside where the cauldron of sacred fire rides in my hips, burning an eternal green. I guided the glass to the fire, hoping to be more comfortable. I had cast these unpleasant bits out for a reason.
Persephone stroked my face when I was done and told me I had done well. Hades reminded me they didn't want to see me for a long while. They sent me back to Hermes who walked me to the banks of the Styx.
Just as Charon hove in sight, Hades came to us. "You need to take this with you." He gestured at a coffin.
I opened it. Inside was a middle aged woman, a younger version of me, either dead or sleeping. In her arms lay a drowned little girl of about three or four, her skin waterlogged and gray, lake-water soaking her hair and dress. Marie. The original personality.
"I can't carry the box," I said.
"It cannot stay here without you?"
I stared at Angel, the public personality who had gone into the box several years ago, leaving me in charge. I wanted to cry at the sight of Marie. It was my job to protect her in death, as none of us could in life. And here she was, out of her room, out of her bed, looking worse by the second.
A deep ripping started somewhere near my head and Zara stepped out of us. We hadn't seen her in months. She stood, tall, all in black, her long black hair flowing free down her back.
"I will keep them until the others return." She covered the dead ones up and closed the box with a sorceress' seal. She lifted the box which grew smaller in her hands. She pressed it down to the size of a wallet and tucked it into her robes, near where her heart would be, if it wasn't in a jar. (at least I hope she put it back in its jar after the rage of grief in '15)
Hades smiled as Charon beached. I thanked him, and thanked Charon, who grumbled about "tourists" as he shoved off. Hermes sat beside me with his invisibility cloak draped over us as we rode
I felt sicker and sicker, the glass riding badly. He held me and let me cuddle into his chest. One of the pieces of glass worked its way out of my skin on my chin, Clear now, all of me gone from it. He plucked it away and tossed it in the Styx.
"This is ridiculous. I can fix it but it will hurt a lot."
"Love, I just drank a pitcher of ground glass and had a whole alt ripped from me. Right now, pain is the least of my worries."
(about here, Megan opened the bedroom door and I came up briefly into the dream of reality. Gabriel sent me back down and he and Evan put their hands on me to help me stay down)
When we disembarked, he took me to a quiet part of the shore.
A gesture brought all of the glass out of me, shredding my skin. I screamed at that. He brought the brazier of scared fire out of me too. In a way only a god could, he passed the glass through the fire and it came up on the end of a glass blower's pipe.
"Blow, all you have and are and can be, blow it in here."
I blew the longest breath ever, draining everything to the tip of my toes. I took the fire back into myself, because it is mine. He tapped the glass off and said, "Look."
A beautiful, multicolored tempered glass heart lay in his hands. "It's still breakable, and as such will never be truly practical." He tipped it into my chest. "Go back now."
I sat upright and my eyes were clear. Evan was shaking his hand which was all pins and needles. Gabriel laughed at him. "It's been in the land of the dead, son, did you not expect it to feel odd?"
I told them all that had happened in the 18 minutes I had been gone.
Tonight was my most recent trip.
Tonight, my girlfriend's father died of stage four lung cancer. Eight months ago, it was a spot smaller than a dime. Tonight, it had eaten most of his lungs and metastasized into his bones. Agent Orange is a hell of a thing.
I went to the astral. He was waiting for me there, looking lost. And then looking a bit confused that I was the one to help him.
We walked the labyrinth together, his arthritis and the limp from his brain damage (car accident) gone. We talked. I promised to look after his daughter. It was a long walk to the center, even though it was only a seven-turn labyrinth. His grip on my hand got lighter and lighter.
At the center, he let go in a blinding flash of light and was gone.
I let myself out the usual way, stepping over two rows of candles.
When I opened my eyes, it was twenty minutes later than it had been.
He has gone swiftly and well.
Now, I'm hungry again. This veil crossing stuff will do that to a guy.
So there it is. Been dead twice and walked up to the gates of it two more times. It's been a rough forty days.
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