Friday, October 19, 2012

Hekate's Supper & Odd Responses

Some time ago I wondered, to myself, if I would notice a difference if I switched from just giving offerings to Hekate and similar spirits at any time, to their more traditional times of offering. As such, I'd asked on this blog where I could find a calendar that Hellenic Reconstructionists use to chart their offerings and festivals. A couple kindly blog readers pointed me to the Hellenion calendar, which I occasionally check to see when dates for offerings are coming up.

Lo and behold! Upon having written on Hekate's supper and checking the calendar, it appeared that the date for the diepnon was precisely within 24 hours. Thus, rather than using the triplicity involved and offering the supper to Hekate on the thirtieth, I instead went to the store and picked up a few items so that my offering would be something that wasn't just slapped together.

Thus I ended up with a plate with three pieces of bread, three pieces of cheese, and a helping of three figs (I will make kokkora next month), and along with a few other fruits and nuts slathered in honey. I figured that even if the fruits and nuts were not traditional offerings, covering them in honey would most likely keep the offering on a fairly acceptable level. Then, along with cool water, I set off in the middle of the night.

I selected a trivium within the vicinity of Old Town because, while it was no longer at the direct edge of town it appears to have been around 100 years ago. I say this because it marks one of the border roads on maps from 1870 that I conveniently downloaded and compared to Google Maps. The city now extends beyond those former borders considerably, however the areas easily seen beyond it are mostly grassy hills with a single hotel sitting at the center.

Initially, since I always do things like this on foot, one of the cats began following me. This is not entirely unusual, as they've been following me during my late-night walks off and on for a while. What was unusual was that around the half-way point some large gusts of wind kicked up, and the cat stopped and waited for me as I continued on.

After passing through Old Town, I reached my destination and situated myself in the Western quarter. I unpackaged the meal, and placed it on a large rock facing the west. I then made the offering, pouring between 1/3rd and 2/3rds of water upon the ground as a libation. I then offered my prayer. As I was finishing my prayer (I had not actually finished yet), I looked up and for a moment all I saw were rolling green hills. The hotel had vanished! This was so startling I stumbled upon what I was saying, and blinked. The hotel immediately returned to sight (which was, after all, fairly reassuring), and so I finished my prayer, pulled the hood of my hoodie over my head, and turned and left without looking back.

It was about the time I was leaving that the sense of direction I'd formerly had was lost. I became convinced that despite having situated myself in the West, I had been actually facing North. I was almost tempted to turn back and offer apologies to Hekate, but knew immediately that I shouldn't and kept moving. It was only until I was halfway home that my sense of direction returned and I realized I had, in fact, been facing west. This sense of direction or “spaciality” being lost or warped is something I have actually felt before during major Sabbats or witch-work, particularly those in which the ancestors or former members of the coven and tradition's lineage are being worked with. That is, unfortunately, the most I can say on that matter and I hope you'll forgive me for that. That being said, it was precisely the same feeling or sense as what happens then. What was different was that beyond the offering and a water cleansing being performed before, I did not do any heavy ritual work. I did not feel endangered or anything. Just that it was time to leave and head home.

Upon getting home, as before I left, I did a water cleansing based on the recommendations of Bardon in Initiation to Hermetics and felt more “spiritually clean” than I have in quite a while.

Overall: this offering felt both better received and seemed to work out better than when, in the past, I've flaked on ingredients or timing and been lazy. It's pretty much sealed my commitment to giving Hekate her due offerings along traditional time-frames and with as many traditional ingredients as I can get my hands on during that time. If you're interested in working with the Goddess? I heartily recommend checking out the Hellenion calendar, and using the Darkest Night of the month, over the thirtieth of the month.

Anyway, that's my report.  If you're not convinced? That's totally fair.

Jack.

PS. I've also become convinced I need to spend some time hunting down some traditional prayers to the Goddess and not just wing it. Because my prayers? They really could be better. LOL.

1 comment:

Lance Michael Foster said...

In 1981, I was dealing with rejection from a pursued love interest, and was going to Indian art school in Santa Fe. I did not follow any particular gods, but I prayed to "out there." Anyways, one night I walked out the field behind the school, about 100 feet from the dorm. The place had a reputation as a haunted place, and we were warned not to wander around out back at night. Lots of stories.

Anyways, I was feeling a lot of anguish and homesickness at age 20, and I took out a jug of water and some tobacco and some snacks. I went out there, and looked up at the full Moon. I prayed, not for anything in particular, but just to talk to someone who would listen..in this case the Moon. I offered my snacks, tobacco, and a splash of water.

Then I noticed I couldn't see any lights on the horizon anymore. All the stuff that was there before. It was only darkened land beneath the Moon's light. I looked back toward the dorm behind me, but there was nothing there, just "vagueness" like a mist. I was afraid. So I looked up to the Moon and asked that it let me find my way back. I poured a circle of water around me, closed my eyes, and began to walk backwards to where I thought the dorm should be. Gradually I swiveled around and carefully opened my eyes, after walking backwards about 50 feet. There was the dorm. When I went in, one of the dorm mothers, an elderly Pueblo Indian lady, told me, "We told you that you shouldn't go out there."