PBP: “S” is for Sinister Sorority

I am the eldest in a trio of daughters; after me is G and the baby is J. I am dark-haired and pudgy, G is the tall thin blonde, and J is the strong lean red-head. We are likened to the Powerpuff Girls, if they were cast as the Stygian witches or dancing Fates in a post-apocalyptic landscape. The thing about us growing up, we were closer than most siblings. Sure we fought, and still do... but that happens. After spending time all sharing a bed, or a room several times, they have been the sentinel of protection and comfort as only family can be... we have an unshakable bond that none have dared to break. My sisters are not magickal folk, and actually are quite skeptical in their thinking. Not that the esoteric is completely without rationale but my natural abilities to see the unseen and serve the Dead has certainly been the butt of jokes in our family for years. Being a good sport I can take it, but the need to be understood is sometimes overwhelming enough that I seek reassurance outside my small, comfortable retinue of Goddesses and allied ancestors. For several years I participated in and facilitated many groups for women: moon circles, covens, red tents... all were moments in my life when I could forget the competition and cattiness I otherwise fear from women. These types of gatherings reminded my tomboy spirit that there is a femininity within that is free to come out and play every once in a while. I learned about the roles we all play as women, the various stages our bodies go through and the sacred/profane juxtaposed in our lives. I worked through my past lives as women, and men, as mothers, midwives birthed new miracles, ideas and Be-ings. As the wise witch, the harvested and cleared way brings death, endings. To transform darkly, in that compost of ashen blood is to be reborn again. That is what we are as females... the beginning and the end both consummated in blood.

It is through this blood I am connected to all others, including my spiritual sisters. It is also how I have connected with Hekate, through the blood of pain and shedding... but She is not the only one who can fill this role. A stated before in several other blogs (see Sacrificial Schedules), I do not adhere to the roles of 'archetypes' for my personal ideology, although I am supportive if others wish to use them as tools for understanding the ways of deity. For me, they are separate Be-ings and entities... much as people are; we are all made of celestial 'stuff', it just takes on different forms of matter (and anti-matter sometimes). For example, whilst many Neo-Pagans may experience Hekate as Be-ing Morrígan, or even sometimes Ereshkigal, She is only Her Self with me... I experience these other Deities completely in a different way. I am drawn to many chthonic Gods and Goddesses, and even though they share similar characteristics, no two are exactly the same; nor do I experience them in similar ways either. I consider them part of the same Sorority or Fraternity.... they are like brothers and sisters in their collective roles, but are still very much individuals.

It is with this in mind my path has taken a slight turn, as yet another deity has entered my Left-Handed (or SINISTER) journey. Not long ago, I petitioned the Santa Muerte, or Holy Death, on behalf of a friend who is part hispanic; being in a punk band and a little 'rough around the edges' I thought they're be a perfect match. Since this working, Santisima has become more and more of a presence in my life. I created an altar, researched Her history and folklore. Filtering out relevant and quality information is difficult with such a recent Lady of Bones... in a long line of death Goddess, La Flaka is the new girl on the block. She is sister to Kali in Her removal of obstacles, fierce in Her love like the Morrigan, protective as Hekate of Her children, and regal as Queen Hel. As I take Her boney hand, a nod of approval is given by the other Sorors as I face Her embrace.

Blancha Santa Muerte