You've got to give what you take..

I wrestled with the idea of an image to illustrate sacred reciprocity, ayni, as it's known in the Andean tradition. I haven't written much lately - I was formally initiated as a Paqo at the Autumn Equinox and am officially a member of the Qanchis Ylla lineage. By Summer Solstice 2026, I will be a carrier of no less than four mesas - to say my life is blessed beyond measure is an understatement. This training isn't all I've gone through since November 2022, dear reader, Celtic Shamanism, Rune immersion in the Norse path, conjure work in the Hoodoo tradition, and on and on, and on - it has been nothing short of privilege to be honest. In fact, I observed that my very first piece on this platform (https://feathers-in-the-snow.ghost.io/dearly-beloved-2/) was written at Imbolc - a seasonal threshold that, thanks to Rhonda McCrimmon at the Centre of Shamanism, both the Cailleach and Brigid introduced me to the "Land of Sacred Goodbyes." It was this past Imbolc that I created my first despacho, not in the traditional way from the Andes, but as an embodied effigy of prayers to be buried versus burned. At Imbolc, I created a corn doll in the way in which the Cherokee created them, except mine contained implements of a traditional despacho, seeds, sweets, etc. I felt the artistic expression from my heart made it even more potent. I couldn't have been more correct if I tried - thus the title of this piece and the concept of ayni - sacred reciprocity - the give and take of the seen and the unseen.

As I sat down to write this, the remembrance of watching the Battle of the Network Stars with Howard Cosell, no less, came immediately - the tug of war at the finale. Now, I realize in this event there is a team that'll tire and eventually there will be a "winner"; however, I like the euphemism this image of the tug of war brings. The tug of war competition is ancient and multicultural. In ancient Greece, the words to describe the sport derived from the verb helkō (ἕλκω), meaning 'I draw, I pull'. Interesting how this invokes thoughts of both extraction and attraction - the idea that we must shed in order to receive, which takes me back to my despacho practice, which also coincides with the fire festivals (well, almost - Beltaine was a wash this year) of the Celtic tradition.

I created a mask despacho for Lughnasadh, although I created and buried it around what's known as the Lion's Gate instead - I am a Leo, so it felt correct. One thing I did realize through making that - maple syrup is not a great binder for seeds - but it was the idea that counted, as I created the mask like a Tawa cloth representing the four sacred directions - a face that can shine in any direction. Two days after I buried that mask, I won't candy coat it, I was spiritually attacked for quite some time afterwards - in an atmosphere that felt as if I was attacked for having the audacity to reveal growth through exposure of true nature. Looking back, it was an incredible rite of passage.

This season, as we approach Samhain (more on that holiday in just a minute) - I made a jack-o'-lantern despacho, which served as a reminder of how much I love this time of year. Snuggling in warmth, delicious food, and long nights. Samhain, some call the witch's new year - pfft to that, I say. Firstly, it is not Halloween - that is actually a Christian holiday. Samhain was celebrated on the 11th new moon of the year, and it is the Celtic new year. Now, apparently, ancient Celts believed that as you went to sleep, that was the new day versus sunrise. So they're lives revolved deeply around both the solar and lunar calendars - we have completely lost that - white - Europeans, that is. Roman invasion/infiltration and the eventual growth into the concept of "Whiteness" destroyed Eurocentric traditions faster than anyone or anything. It's what has destroyed the United States, and thus, this is also sacred reciprocity - karmic retribution perhaps for the genocide of the Indigenous, the barbaric enslavment of Africans, the Art of the Con on the indentured out of Europe. The bill has come due.

I would encourage you, dear reader, as we move further into the deep Autumn and winter months, to evaluate your harvest, what you wish to allow to pass away with the winter, and the seeds to sow when the time is right. In Harold Johnson's The Power of Story, he reiterates many times how powerful your words are - I ask dear reader that you speak to yourself kindly during these months- what seeds you plant with those words could reap dividends for you next year.

I leave you with Annie Finch's Samhain

In the season leaves should love,
since it gives them leave to move
through the wind, towards the ground
they were watching while they hung,
legend says there is a seam
stitching darkness like a name.
Now when dying grasses veil
earth from the sky in one last pale
wave, as autumn dies to bring
winter back, and then the spring,
we who die ourselves can peel
back another kind of veil
that hangs among us like thick smoke.
Tonight at last I feel it shake.
I feel the nights stretching away
thousands long behind the days
till they reach the darkness where
all of me is ancestor.
I move my hand and feel a touch
move with me, and when I brush
my own mind across another,
I am with my mother's mother.
Sure as footsteps in my waiting
self, I find her, and she brings
arms that carry answers for me,
intimate, a waiting bounty.
"Carry me." She leaves this trail
through a shudder of the veil,
and leaves, like amber where she stays,
a gift for her perpetual gaze.