Posts Tagged ‘Mystical Fauna’

Let’s talk about bugs again. This time it wont be mosquitoes though, I promise. And heads up, there is some santería related stuff in here, and I would LOVE to receive comments from those of you who are more learned than me in that particular religion.

I just read this blog post over at Mystical bewilderment, which was about spirit bugs or bugs being used as spiritual warnings, which made me think about something that my mom experienced a couple of years ago.

Me and my mom wre on Cuba, experiencing the not-so-touristic sides of Havana. We were there as a part of a cultural exchange project, focused on dance. For years I had practiced afro-cuban dance and this was a way for my dance group to get over there and learn more, dancing with one of the local dance companies. Since the dancing revolved around Santería it also came natural to learn more about the religion, and one of the favourite moments of the trip was when we attended a “birthday celebration” in which there was lots of food, lots of dancing, lots of sacred drumming and people going in and out of trances. Crazy cool.

On the last day in Havana, my mom took a short walk through the local market. An old man suddenly came up to her. The man held up a wooden staff in front of mom, and said that she was going to buy it from him. Now mom isn’t easily fooled by street merchants , but as she described it afterwards this old man seemed so very… weird. He was so serious . It seemed important. So she gave the man some money and received the staff.

Later that day we were moving out and going back to the airport. The leader of our group, our teacher and choreographer who is also a santera, caught sight of the wooden staff in mom’s hand. She froze, staring at the staff and looking slightly shocked. She asked mom where she’d gotten it, and shook her head in disbelief.

The staff is about the size of a walking cane, but thicker and shaped a bit differently with a bug knob at the top. It’s painted all over in bright colours, and at the top knob there is an eye. My dance teacher explained that this kind of staff is used in specific rituals, very dark and dangerous rituals about death. Such a staff would NEVER be sold to a tourist just like that, which was why it made her so shocked to see it in mom’s hand.

So what about the bug? Well, we came home. The staff was placed in the living room. It made mom feel uncomfortable, and it had the same effect on me though not as strong. But it felt scary. So we didn’t touch it much, it just needed to be there. Then all hell broke loose in our lives as my grandpa died and our family broke apart. It was a time of heightened emotions as well as spiritual experiences, as both me and mom seemed to be going through a sensitive period.

One night when I wasn’t at home, mom was woken up by her two cats making an unusual amount of noise. She went out to the living room and found both cats intently watching the wooden staff. Mom took a closer look.

On top of the knob there was a huge bug. An unusually big and veeery colourful beetle. It had the same colours as the staff it was sitting on. As mom looked at it, it flew up and crossed to room, eventually landing on top of an old cupboard (almost 100 years old, that used to belong to my mom’s grandparents).

Mom told me about what had happened as soon as I came home the next day. We went looking for it, but it was nowhere to be seen, though I could see traces of it in the dust on top of the cupboard. We went on to look up every kind of beetle known to exist in Sweden, and found nothing even remotely close to what mom had seen. Too many colours, too big. It just shouldn’t have been there.

Mom is still convinced that the bug was physically there, but that it had to have something to do with the creepy magical staff. I tend to agree. Not sure how it all connects though, and what it means. Most of all, I would love to learn more about what that staff really IS. Ever heard of anything like it? As I wrote in the start, we were told it was the kind used in rare and dangerous rituals of death.  Does it ring a bell to any of you?

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Two weeks ago, as me and hubby were out working on our little patch of land, we lost our camera. Oh nooo! I politely asked the land spirits to help me find it again. And, I added, I need to find it right away. After all, if the camera was left outside for too long it wouldn’t actually work any more…

As I paced around the land looking for the camera, I got the feeling some kind of land spirit or mischievous gnome or something was playing tricks on us, and had taken the camera just for fun.

I asked politely to get the camera back right away and promised to bring offerings if I found it.

I didn’t find the camera. Not that day. No, we found it yesterday.

It had laid outside in the mud for two weeks. There had been warm and sunny, then rainy and windy, then snowy and really cold. And guess what… the camera is all right. We could turn it on immediately and once it had dried up a bit everything looked fine, pics look great and it’s just as it was before we lost it.

Huh. Amazing! So much for me telling the land spirits I needed to find the camera right away or it wouldn’t survive!

Methinks I should bring a little offering next time we go out there and say thank you for returning our camera INTACT and fully functional (but please don’t do it again, please?)!

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Yesterday it happened again; I got a little visit from a spirit cat.

We were in the kitchen, both me and hubby. Our two cats where also there, asking for food (duh, of course they were!). I crouched down to look into the great big bottle of mead, fermenting like crazy.

A cat brushed up against my lower back, I could feel the oh so soft and silky fur against the exposed skin between the skirt and sweater.

My reaction was to make one of those cute noises that humans usually do when around babies or animals, while stretching out my left arm to pet the cat yet still keeping my eyes on the mead. When my hand couldn’t actually find anything I turned around.

To my surprise, there was no cat there. C was sitting on the kitchen table looking at me with sparkling eyes, and B wasn’t even in the room any more.

About 2 seconds passed between the cat brushing against me, and me turning around to look. No way either C or B could have moved away that quickly without making a sound. And hubby was on the opposite side of the kitchen table, no way it could have been him. Besides, he’s not that furry… 😛

I’m pretty sure this was a spirit cat. Perhaps my dear old friend Ronja, who died just a couple of years ago. Since she died there have been a couple of these instances, when I seem to get visited by a non-physical cat. Since I never got those types of visits before she died, I’m guessing the visitor is actually her. Dear Ronja, coming to check up on my now or then?





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So I just came back from the doctor’s appointment. Three more weeks of no work coming up.

The doctor also thought it best to send me to a eating disorder specialists. Not sure he understood what I was trying to describe, but at least he took it seriously.

What I didn’t tell him was just how intense the voice of addiction is within me, scared that he might think I’m schizofrenic or something. It’s just that as soon as I overeat or eat sweets or snacks I turn into someone else. Or rather, now that I am fighting it it almost feels like a completely different entity living within me, that pushes me aside and takes over.

Sometimes I even wonder if it could actually be an entity, a demon of sorts, that I let in.  I’ve heard alcoholics and drug users sometimes referr to addiction as a demon, especially christians who “blame” the addiction on satan or some kind of demonic posession… I understand now just why they would describe it like that.

As long as I don’t fight the urges, it all seems to make sense, it feels like I am the one in charge and the one making the decisions. But when I refuse the urges the voice of Addiction becomes horribly tangible, and I feel my real self being bullied into submission. First it sweet talks me, tries to seduce me into giving in. Then it taunts me, tells me I’m worthless so I might as well just give in. Then it comforts me and tells me it will all feel so much better afterwards, if I just eat. Then if I still refuse, it yells at me, raging and tries to force me. At this point, if I don’t give in, I end up a shivering and sobbing mess.

Addiction. I wonder if it really is a demon. A demon that feeds off the submission of its victims. Whether it’s about alcohol, or drugs, or sex, or shopping, or food… it’s always about submitting, relinquishment of the self. Addictions talks to you from the inside, so it’s so very hard to identify, it blends in with your own thoughts and feelings. Like a parasite, tricking you into thinking it’s a part of you.

I have found it physically hard to talk about this. My mouth doesn’t want to open, my throat wants to stay quiet. Addiction doesn’t want to be exposed. It’s making it hard for me, the real me, to express what’s going on. It’s suddenly hard to even write properly, it’s like I suddenly can’t remember how to spell simple words. Thanks the gods for the computer’s spell check.

I am scared, yes. And I am sad that this is putting such strain on my husband, who feels like he has to carry all the responsibility. Yet this is a fight I have to face, I can’t turn back now and give in, no matter how the Addiction laughs me in the face and proclaims that it’s a fight I cannot win.

But I will win. I must.

Love and light


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I think I might have been visited by a spirit cat yesterday. Or, if not a cat, then at least something with a similar form.

First I saw a cat-like shadowy thing run by fairly quickly in the living room, right where I usually meditate and stuff. At first I thought it was one of my two real cats, but as I turned around I saw them in the hallway, so it couldn’t have been them. Then later at night, as I sat down in meditation, one of my little darlings got very much aware that there was something unusual present.

As I sat down on the floor in front of my candle (the one I’ve dedicated to Mother) my darling kitty cat got all tense. He more or less climbed onto the window to see what was out there, staring down on the ground. I got curious and had a look, but couldn’t see anything there. I sat down again and figured it was probably a small animal that I just missed. But Caspar kept looking, getting more and more agitated. I could tell it wasn’t a bird that he was seeing, because he makes specific noises if he sees birds, and it clearly wasn’t something that scared him like a dog. No, he reacted more like he does when he sees a cat. I went up to the window probably five or six times and stared out at the spot my cat was staring at, but there really wasn’t anything there that I could see.

Still, I figured it was just a cat or whatever… But then Caspar got even more startled, and reacted as if the thing had moved and come inside. He was at the time up in a piece of cat furniture thingy, and he certainly didn’t want to come down at that point. Judging from where he looked, the “thing” had moved from just outside the window, to just inside the window and was now hiding amongst my flower pots. Slooooowly, poor Caspar turned around on his little platform and tried to keep an eye on things, his tail wagging like crazy and his eyes very focused indeed. Then suddenly he spotted it outside the window again, and I once again ran up to see. Still nothing visible there.

Caspar kept watching this invisible presence for probably twenty minutes or so. All throughout this, I kept watching him and constantly looking out for anything physical that could have caught his attention. At the same time I was still partially in a meditative state, and I only felt calm. In the end, when it seemed like Caspar could keep watching and worrying forever, I picked him up very gently.

He sat in my arms just the same way that he does when we’re outside and some stranger comes by. He was so tense and a bit scared, and kept watching the floor but still felt pretty safe up in my arms. I took him upstairs and put him on my bed. He took a moment to look around in bed to make sure that the “thing” wasn’t there as well, and as soon as he realized we were alone he relaxed and started purring. I kept whispering to him and stroking him gently until he seemed completely relaxed.

It wasn’t until today that I put the two instances together. I am now wondering if the cat-like shadow I saw and the presence Caspar noticed might have been the same thing. After all, it was in the same space (about a meter apart), during the same day, and while I thought I saw a cat Caspar reacted the same way that he does when he sees an unfamiliar cat for real. Only the reaction contunued far longer than it normally does when he sees a real cat, it was as if this was something special. And since he seemed to be seeing something that moved through our outer wall, and it was invisible to me, then I can’t help think it was a spirit. A spirit cat. Or what do you think?

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Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about extraterrestrials. No, I was thinking of entities are neither gods nor ghosts, and depending on how you define the word I might even hesitate to call spirits. But now this is just starting to sound confused, maybe I just started in the wrong end. Perhaps an example would be better?

When I was a young girl, still living with my mom in a perfectly regular apartment on the outskirts of town, I had a rather strange encounter one night. I woke up in the middle of the night, startled.

There was something floating just below the ceiling. I blinked, immediately thinking that I was asleep. The thing wouldn’t go away. It was a…. blob. Brownish, about a meter, and had what looked like roots hanging down from it, all over. It had the look of something slightly rotten and unhealthy.

It floated in the air, completely still. At first, when I thought I was just dreaming, I was rather fascinated and stared at the weird protuding root-like thingies hanging down from it, and thinking about how I would describe it in my dream journal once I woke up. But slowly, I realized something that made me chill to the bone. I was awake.

My fingers ran up to touch my face, and I could verify that my eyes were indeed open. I blinked once, twice, many times. Started to get a bit worried and kept staring on that big brownish blob, memorizing how it looked and wondering what it was. And then, slowly, it started to fade away. When it was finally gone I laid back and tried to relax, telling myself that perhaps this was some kind of weird dream after all. But no really, I was wide awake.

Not being able to relax at all and constantly looking around to make sure the thing hadn’t reappeared, in the end I gave up and went over to my mom’s room. I quietly awoke her and whispered that I couldn’t stay in my room, I really had to get out, and could she please switch beds with me?

Halfway asleep my mom kindly agreed, and as I slipped into her bed she went over to my room instead. And I could finally get some sleep.

Then in the morning as I went up for breakfast, I was still pondering what had happened that night. Then I noticed some scribbles mom had just made on a scrap of paper or a magazine or something. She had the habit of writing notes on her dreams a bit now and then, and I got a bit curious if she’d been able to sleep well in my room. Guess what she had written?

Slept in my daughter’s bed. Something floating in the air. “Roots” hanging down from it.

With my jaw dropping down to my chest, I turned to my mom and just had to ask, but couldn’t really find the words so I just pointed at what she’d written. She looked a bit puzzled and said that the whole thing was a bit strange, she’d written the note just after waking and she couldn’t really remember much of it any more. But she was sure there was something about a strange blob-like-thingy with roots hanging in the air in my room.

Now I know I hadn’t told her anything about what I had seen in my room, and to be honest she wasn’t really awake when we switched beds either. But there is just no way this was a coincidence, she must have seen the same thing as me!

This is one example of what I call an un-known entity. Though it looked like a thing rather than a someone, it really felt like a being. But I wouldn’t really wanna call it a spirit either, but I don’t really know why that is. Perhaps “creature” would be a more appropriate word? Even if it scared me and the whole thing felt creepy, I wouldn’t say it felt evil. Nor did it feel good, though. Just plain weird. So in the mystical fauna I guess I would name it the Floating Blob.

If you have a better suggestion then please, write a comment! 😀

You can easily find people in the wiccan/pagan/heathen/druid blogosphere talk about gods and goddesses, fairies and landspirits, angels and demons. But what about floating blobs? Have you ever encountered one? I know that you might think that “oh well, it’s was probably a spirit just manifesting in that particular shape…” But it really really really felt like that was it’s true form. I kinda got the impression that it was it being there was more or less coincidence, like when you happen to come across a badger in the woods or a fly happens to fly in through your window.

Even if you haven’t seen this particular kind of creature, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this! I’ve never encountered another one and I doubt I ever will, it seems like a one-in-a-lifetime experience. But seeing it has made me think that there might be a whole unknown mystical fauna out there, with being that we normally can’t detect. And I’m not just talking about wise spirit guides or anything. Just the non-physical counterpart of beetles, or flies, or rats or… well, you get the point. Or… ehm, do you? Or am I making no sense?

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