Craft

What Else to Believe But the Stories We Tell One Another

“As you read a book word by word and page by page,
you participate in its creation,
just as a cellist playing a Bach suite participates, note by note,
in the creation, the coming-to-be, the existence, of the music.
And, as you read and re-read, the book of course participates in the creation of you,
your thoughts and feelings, the size and temper of your soul.”
Ursula K. Le Guin

An Introduction

In many respects, I am a skeptic, but I long for the mystical.
I don't know that I disbelieve in the Other, only that I have trouble believing.
What I do know is that there are cultural stories that allow me to process and contextualise my experiences in the way pure logic may not.

Humans tell stories to explain the world around us, to aid in our understanding of it. I may not believe many things literally but I do find myself believing in the power of these stories.
The mystical and scientific, the holy and the mundane, have existed comfortably beside one another for centuries.
In my experience, humans are very capable of holding contradicting beliefs, comfortable with the paradoxical.
As long as we are aware of this, and able to discern the correct time and place for these different beliefs, I see no issue in appreciating what science and our stories can reveal.

Indeed, the stories we tell ourselves about a phenomena, and the science behind it, are often able to corroborate and support one another.
Take, for example, the stories of the Elder Mother from English and Scandinavian folklore. It is said that to take wood from the elder tree (without asking first) would lead to ill luck.
When burned, the cyanogenic glycosides within the elder tree's wood become what is essentially cyanide gas.
In the poorly ventilated houses of old, such a reaction could be deadly.
The tales of the Elder Mother could have been a way to explain why some individuals suffered such a, seemingly random, fate.
Requestimg permission from the Elder Mother could be seen as an attempt by individuals to avoid this outcome.

The knowledge of the outcome was there, the desire to explain and prevent it was there, the collective scientific knowledge of today was not.
Storytelling provided an explaination and a course of action and allowed the community to disseminate this information.

Experiences

The cultural stories that have been passed down to me, of An Dà-shealladh -- the Second Sight, Sìthichean -- the Good Folk, and many others, have allowed me to contextualise and process experiences that would otherwise have been isolating.
An example would be an experience of the Second Sight's prediction of death at early age. When I was first granted the Knowledge I didn't know much about the Second Sight. Despite this, the Knowledge didn't distress or disturb me. I was at peace with it.
It took about a decade for the events to play themselves out, and in that time I was introduced through my family to the Second Sight. While I didn't need the concept of the Second Sight to confirm the veracity of my feelings, it provided a wider cultural context in which to understand it.
I was told that such experiences were common in the family, and though I daren't voice my Knowledge, I continued to ask questions in the hopes of further clarity.
I haven't had an experience I would call Second Sight for quite some time now, but the intensity of the Knowledge, and of the experience, have remained with me.
My family has a history, dating from at least the late 19th century, of more purposful divination. Tasseomancy and tarot being chief amongst them. There are also many stories of spirit interactions, both sought and spontanious.

Now What?

This is the question I'm trying to answer.
The aim is to use this blog to document the evolution of my craft as I attempt to suss out what works for me.
Divination and spirit work hold the most draws for me, being that they're both something of a tradition in my family. Right now I have a deck of tarot cards(Children of Litha by Xia Hunt), and my eye is on an oracle deck(Woodland Wardens by Jessica Roux). I have a set of "Skyrie Stones" and use them in the way laid out by Scott Richardson-Reed in the "Tales of the Taibhsear" chapbook.
I would love to be able to re-experience my intuition as I once did as a child, but the path is unclear.
Folk practices, especially of the Scottish tradition, are also something I am aiming to expand my knowledge on. I would love to adapt them to my own context, both "the modern age"(as many resources on Scottish folk practice date from the 19th century) and my own location, as living on stolen land impacts how one goes about nurturing a relationship with that land.

I sain with juniper berries semi-regularly to refresh myself and my space. My divination is more sporadic, although I often get a lot of insight from this practice.
Primarily my practice consists of long walks in nature. I also find spinning and knitting to be expressions of my practice.
I don't experience much difference between magic and "mundane" acts of creation, and I don't believe I want to.

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