Claw and Waffle

To begin with, I do not (to the best of my knowledge), have a relationship with any Irish or other Celtic deities. I haven’t cultivated any relationship, nor have I sought one, because I didn’t feel any call there. Given my ancestry, I explored in that direction a little when I was much younger, but there didn’t seem to be any connection to build upon.

Yesterday, Kara and I had breakfast with a friend who recently felt called to a closer relationship with The Morrígan. A diviner had confirmed this for her. So, over breakfast I cautioned our friend to be prepared to be pulled out of her comfort zone, as a lot of the material written about Her is from Wiccanates stressing Her empowering faces and minimizing Her terrible aspects.

Our friend assured me that she was expecting that, so we passed on to other topics.

This morning, whilst eating waffles and sausage, for some reason I kept turning The Morrígan’s name over in my mind. I was really just thinking through different ways that I’ve heard the letters pronounced. Long A, short… that sort of thing.

Then I felt the claw.

A somewhat larger than hand-sized set of sharp points pressed in around my right shoulder. I felt fluttering behind.

-Don’t turn around-

This did not come as words, but as awe. The vastness behind me was perceptible, if only by its boundary, the sense of not-quite feathers, not-quite tatters of reality wafting in an unfelt breeze.

-Why haven’t you done the thing yet?-

Again, not words, not even meaning, rather as threads of meaning coming as a jumble of thoughts and images and emotion that took my human mind a seeming eternity to parse.

Then, the fumbling for excuses. I didn’t have a good reason.

First of all, the “thing” in question wasn’t exactly something I knew anything about- I didn’t have any firm guidance or other indication that it was a good idea. It was something that I arrived at by typical human flailing about with reason and imagination.

Second, to the best of my knowledge, it was in the realm of “I should probably go do that at some point, maybe it will help.” Maybe.

Third, it’s not exactly something I want to do, given my history with water and how my (metier? medicine? resonance?) reacts to that of the Powers who control the waters.

Fourth, humans have made it frustratingly difficulty (for a number of reasons, some good) to get the access I need to the place I was planning on doing the thing. For instance, it is currently closed because of the recent rain and elevated bacteria levels.

Yeah, She wasn’t interested in any of that.

So, I’m sitting here in front of a half-eaten breakfast, with a claw on my shoulder thinking, ‘what the hell?’ I’m ashamed to admit that I started to feel a little indignant. First of all, I don’t generally have intense, waking awareness of divine Presence… especially in the middle of breakfast. Plus, I didn’t have any relationship with Her that I’m aware of.

But I had, unwittingly, called out to Her. I’m not used to Them showing up when named, but I had done so.

Furthermore, She is also one of, if not the, foremost experts on the thing, which it appears, I really need to do sooner rather than later.

Upon that realization, the intensity of Her presence faded. Slowly, very slowly. So slowly that even two hours later my shoulder still feels weird.

So, I need to make offerings to The Morrígan and ask Her help (and guidance- I still have no clue what I’m doing) for this. Does anyone have any suggestions?

-In Deos Confidimus

P.S. – On the very rare occasions (like this one) in which I have a conscious experience, I’m reminded how much our spiritworkers have to deal with and what a burden sudden visitation can be.

P.P.S. – I’m calling it “the thing” not to be evasive but because I don’t know the right word for it or even how to describe it. It’s been that fully erased from our culture’s knowledgebase. It’s also a bit embarrassing to discuss because of our culture.