Yesterday I spent my time doing work with Papa Legba. While I was doing my work I started to get flooded with images. Messages of which I did my best to convey. At best these image messages are like looking at a sun faded photograph. You see the picture, but a lot of the details are faded and distorted. I felt my skin burning. I knew there was more to come. My ears were ringing loudly as if I were in a silent room. It drowned out the traffic noise. However I heard the cicadas and a raven croaking in the tree behind me. Two katydids streaked by me chirping. Even the drum seemed to fade out to a distant sound. I became uncomfortable physically, so I took the time to thank those who came. I thanked Legba for his help, and asked him to close the gate.
Laying down to try to rest for a bit, I still felt on fire. I was tired and not filled with the energy I usually do after these rituals. I felt like I walked for miles in the desert sun. I started to change my breathing, and meditate on grounding. After about 30 minutes of this I felt more calm although still hot. I went out to the kitchen and scooped a bowl of rainbow sherbet. I was drinking water already, but I needed some sugar or something to put a little gas in the tank. While enjoying my sweet treat, I started reach out to those who I had messages for. I did my best to convey the messages as I saw them. After I was done I went about getting dinner ready and still felt there was more coming, but tried to just be in the moment and enjoy my time with my wife.
After dinner I was sitting at the table playing a puzzle game on my phone when I started feeling a tickle in my hand. I look to see a moth walking along my hand really checking me out. He was on me for at least 20 minutes. I just watched him explore my hand. His antennae feeling into every groove and crevasse of my fingers. I decided to call him Mikel “Mick the moth.” I set him on the table and go outside to have a cigar and unwind a bit more. While I’m outside, I it’s calm. After a few minutes I noticed another moth on me. Within 2 minutes I am surrounded by about 2 dozen of them. I didn’t know if I should be weirded out, amazed, or what? The cigar smoke got them to stop landing on my head and upper body. I turned on the light by the door to draw them away from me. I watched still curious about the moth magnet I seemed to turn into. I went inside and decided to take a shower. I knew the nights dreams would be bringing me more visitors.
I found myself visiting a land that was familiar but new. I was at the home of my maternal grandparents. However, where there used to be a parking lot of an industrial area across the end of the yard through the plum grove, now there was a muddy river. A narrow muddy crossing let through the river to a clearing in a dense overgrown forest of oak, maple, birch, and sumac. It was autumn because the leaves were turned color and on the ground was a thick blanket of fallen leaves. I came to a series of homes in the trees. They were falling to ruin. Some walls had been completely fallen. Floors were heavily damaged and the ceilings had holes and the squirrels and birds have been nesting in them. What was odd, was there was electricity still and working appliances. I was realizing that I wasn’t alone. More of my maternal family was there. This was the homes in Godfrey Ontario, but they were destroyed by fire, time, and the elements. My cousins, aunts, and uncles were there with me. We were sitting at a busted old table eating leftover Chinese food. That’s when I noticed that both my aunt who passed away last year, and my uncle who passed when I was a child were there with us. Nobody saw them but me. They saw me. My uncle Lorne just walked by me and put his hand on my shoulder giving a little squeeze and gentle pat. My aunt Pauline smiled and came to me and kissed my forehead and smiled. I realized I was a child again. Sitting and watching one of our frequent gatherings. People drinking and playing horseshoes. I felt love and comfort. I woke with a tear falling down my face.
While I sat this morning processing this, I remember being told about the moths and butterflies being the spirits of our ancestors. That the moths came at night so they can talk to us in our dreams. I remembered the symbolism of them being growth or an emerging of a new self being. I know my maternal bloodline carols world magic. My grandmother had a similar ability to mine. She never shared because people would think she was crazy. Towpaths end, they wrote it off as dementia and it took its toll. I’m glad though, today so many are awakening to a renewed sense of old tradition. Natural ways of thought. Returning to their roots. While I can’t tell my Aunt Karen or Uncle Jim about their spouses visiting, I can take comfort in knowing their spirits are still with them.