otherworldly beliefs

one of the things i'm very adamant about in my spirituality, is the fact that i don't really believe in "realms" beyond earth and space. one of the things that has never really clicked with me, is this idea that we are always looking for this better place. i just think we have plenty of magic and unknowing in our own existence and earth, that we don't really need to be looking for other places. so the concept of like "heaven" and "hell" and "valhalla" being physical places you go to has always kinda been like ehhhh... and the one thing that connects all those places, is you have to die to even experience them in the first place.

but, that doesn't mean i don't believe in mirrors, portals, or thresholds either. one extent of otherworlds i believe, is that just like a reflection in a mirror, or deep dark pools, there is a mirror of our world, that i like to call "the other side". the second, is sort of a place, but is also a feeling. this is a place i recently (as of writing this) got to experience, and validated my previous belief. this warm, inviting, comforting, safe place, is what i've called "realm of the ancestors". the best part, is it can be found right inside of us. it can be felt in other places, and you probably have those places that evoke this feeling, but one has to simply go inside themselves to experience it.

the other side

you ever walk under an arch of trees, step over a log, walk across a stream, or enter the doorway of an old house and immediately feel a shift in the air? do you suddenly feel like the atmosphere is thicker, maybe colder or hotter? well, that's because you just crossed a threshold! a boundary or portal into what i call the other side. maybe you've seen pictures of places that have this "unreality" feeling to them, liminal spaces. the word liminal itself has a couple definitions...

of, relating to, or situated at the limen, the threshold at which a stimulus begins to produce an effect.

a transitional or intermediate state, stage, or period.

relating to the point (or threshold) beyond which a sensation becomes too faint to be experienced

in short, a liminal space is a boundary point. a line between the actual and the reflection. the physical and the spiritual. you may not see it, but you entered a space where the veil separating you and the mirror is thin. a space where the energy, the spirits of the living and unliving world are more palpable. animals, plants, fungi, earth, wind, the sun. i call it the other side, because when you look in a mirror or a still pool, what do you see? do you see yourself, or is your mirror - your spirit - also looking at itself across the veil?

there's a very interesting idea about cave paintings and what they meant to our paleolithic elders. one in particular is a painting of a mammoth, and it's feet appear huge. giant round stumps, while the body is in proportion. as well as the concept that these paintings were meant to be viewed by the flickering of an oil lamp. this flickering flame would give these paintings the appearance of movement. there's so many other things as well; some of these paintings are located in caves with very low oxygen concentrations. findings of hundreds of animal teeth with drilled holes to allow them to be strung to clothing, with markings indicating a repeated action.

what all of these - and more that i haven't listed here - findings show, is that they were trying to experience this other side. this animated, living world of spirits. the feet of that mammoth are so big, giving the impression they're right on the other side of that cave wall, walking upon it. human handprints meeting their reflection. animals seemingly come alive just beyond this thin veil of cave wall. hypoxia occurs when oxygen concentration is below 18%, symptoms of which include dizziness, euphoria, and an increased release of dopamine.

when we and any other living thing die, our spirit returns here. just like when we're born, our spirit leaves this place. this isn't to say we must die to experience the other side, but we're now a permanent resident. there have been studies showing that the use of psychedelics actually reduces brain activity. and my theory for what this can do is pretty simple. every day your mind is observing, experiencing, and filtering what it sees. making sense of its surroundings, attaching form to context. however, under the use of a psychedelic like psylocibin, that brain activity is quieted. the brain is no longer trying to make sense of its surroundings. the veil between the other side is lifted. which explains the visualizations one experiences, and why these plants are considered such sacred medicine to many indigenous groups.

realm of the ancestors

when it comes to an ancestor, i believe anyone can - in their death - become an ancestor. if that person is remembered, called to, invoked, they are an ancestor. this mesolithic shaman was - and is - an ancestor. 600 years after her burial and people were still leaving marks of rememberance. i'd argue that me talking about her right now is proof of legacy and remembrance.

any place that feels warm; a place that is safe, nurturing, welcoming, are places we can feel our ancestors. of course their homes, places they would frequent, places where you have memories with them. but i think it goes much deeper than this. for people who don't really have good relationships with their familial ancestors, or have questionable ancestry from settler-colonial empires... two things. first, this is your cup to bear. i was told that every ancestor in your family holds a chalice of water. the further down it goes, the dirtier the water gets. the chalice is in our hands now, and it is our duty to empty and refill it with clean water. come to terms with that ancestry, don't shy away from it. learn about it, take the lessons and wisdom you care to take. cleanse the ancestral guilt from yourself, and vow to be better. second, just say fuck it and go further back. before imperialism, before medieval, before the classical. i for one love invoking the wisdom and guidance of our Neandertal and early human ancestors. if you wanna get really crazy, go cambrian.

when i went to buffalo bridge, we did a guided trance meditation to meet our guardians and guides. for context, back in february i lost my great grandmother who practically raised me as a child. it was a bit difficult coming to terms with her death, but this guided meditation really eased my grief. during this meditation, i saw the realm of the ancestors. or at least, how it presented itself to me. it will be different for everyone, but for me it was a large, warm living room. bookshelves, a kitchen, a hearth with a hot, roaring fire. everything was earthen and sculpted, and was very inviting. when i entered, there was a woman with ankle length dark hair in a brown dress, and a burly looking man with a big black beard. i've never seen these people before in my life. while i was there, i asked "is my grandmother here?", and they replied "yes, she's here". and from the left, my great grandmother and my great grandfather who passed in 2017 walk in.

a couple of weeks before my trip to buffalo bridge, i had a dream where i was a child again, and i was with my great grandparents. i had told my great grandmother "i miss you so much, i wish you could be here to see everything i've done". and i remember her saying "we are here". i didn't know what this meant at the time, but now i get it. she was here this whole time, inside of me. the other guardians told me how much they loved me, and how they wished i would come visit more, and that they enjoy my presence. i promised them that as long as they gave me little signs they were there for me, i would visit again.

the trance meditation we did was quite simple and something anyone can do with a good 30 minutes of time. but it doesn't even need to be this complex. having a shrine for ancestors, and leaving offerings as simple as water, flowers, or even just the smell of cooking food will let them know you appreciate them. pouring out some water into the grass and just being like "this is for you" is enough.