Ancient Viking seeresses, called volurs, would travel the land freely, beholden to no one, on the outskirts of society.
They practiced a form of magic which called upon spirit with song and drum. The more sweetly sung the song, the more Great Spirit was pleased.
With their healing magic, they were treated with a mixture of deference and wariness. Their power made others uneasy.
The ancient Minoan priestesses of Crete would drum together in underground sound chambers, entering into trance to receive communication from the Otherworld.
In Ireland, there is the Cailleach, the Veiled One, and her daughters the ‘bean feasa’ who can see beyond the Veil. The women who kept the Old Ways of healing had to go into hiding throughout the centuries, though their magic remained alive.
They went into the forests and gardens and tide pools to seek divinity, they called upon earth, air, fire, and water, and they never forgot.
When I drum and sing and see, I am following in the ancient footsteps of long ago ancestresses. Song heals the land. Spirit hears, and always has.
To those who cast spiritual women as erratic, crazy, delusional:
I pity your close mindedness, because the beauty and Mysticism right under your nose you shall never see through the lens of judgement
To any sisters who ever doubt their natural healing power, I say never again hide your magic. Express it for all. Vulnerability is courage.
We were damned long ago by those who couldn’t understand, so dance in the fire, and hold your shadows close like old lovers.
Claim your rightful role on this Earth with integrity and dignity. No one can take our dignity without our consent.
We are needed now, to pour forth wisdom from a millennia old nautilus shell, like water flowing from a sacred chalice onto a parched land.