I am often asked about my daily routine. I can only speak for myself and my life most surely varies from anyone else’s in many details; others are familiar by their very humanness. So step through the blue door at TwoTrees in the dim light of a foggy morning…
My husband and I arise early, shower, and get the fire blazing in the wood stove as coffee perfumes the cottage. The cats circle our feet, marking us as family and crying to be fed. We speak of our plans for the day, the grocery list, plans for the weekend. After we share a brief breakfast, my husband leaves to attend to his own sort of magic: the IT support work he provides his clients.
As the cats find their favorite sleeping spots and settle down to nap, I stoke up the stove with good dry wood and make my weekly offerings of fresh water and a wight cake to the husvaettir, the spirit of the house. Our land was once farmed, and so I have chosen this china figure from my childhood to represent the spirit of nurturance and stewardship which enlivens our home. His kitchen shelf is draped with a tea towel from my grandmother and I serve his cake, rich with honey and butter, in one of her teacups.
Then I sit down to do my divination for the day, exploring the energies I will be surrounded by in my life and work. This helps me prepare and, occasionally, make changes in my plans. From there, I respond to correspondence and update the journal I keep, recording my work as a shaman and any events of note.
I have a morning client who is coming for a Soul Map reading, so I head out to my treehouse office, to bump up the heat and to set up the table and chairs we will need. To cleanse the space, I recane with spicy rosemary smoke and I attune the energy of the space using sound before making offerings to my allies: the Gods, Ancestors and spirits who assist me.
When my client arrives, we speak for a bit about what’s going on in her life and how the Soul Map process works before sitting down for the reading. Afterwards, when she has left, I record the information revealed in the reading so that I can provide her with a detailed write-up later.
Another client is struggling: they have been offered a new job that will require relocation across the country, far from their family and support system, and they have asked me to journey on their behalf. I again cleanse myself and the space, light candles, and ask my spirits which head-covering and coat to wear, and which drum to use. Once dressed in the appropriate kit, I begin the slow heartbeat rhythm that leads me into the altered state that eventually carries me to a place of Knowing. Perhaps an hour later, I return to awareness of the space around me and set down my drum. I am shaky and thirsty and famished; it’s good I have tea and cheese sticks cached for such occasions. I reassure my client: make the move.
By then, it is mid-afternoon and golden sunlight pours down sun through the skylights. The gray, foggy morning has turned into a bright winter day. I slip on my jacket and take a brief ramble through the woods around the cottage, hoping to find edible mushrooms flushed by recent rains, then head back into the cottage to stoke up the fire and begin preparing supper. How blesssed is this magical life!
As I chop and stir, I offer thanks: for food and the gifts of the land, for warmth, for shelter, for the wisdom and lore I carry and share, and for the privilege of helping my clients and serving my Holy Powers. Thanks for a full and blessed day.
