I’ve never been able to figure out if it’s the artist in me, or the analytical scientist (that darn Sagittarian dualism!), but I’ve always had a keen eye for patterns. Common elements, no matter how subtle, seem to catch my eye, whether the items being compared are musical pieces, financial analyses, or human personalities. It’s a trait which helps fuel my interest in Voodoo; being a religion that tends to recognize parallels in other faiths and adopt or absorb them, rather than opposing them or trying to explain them away, this path has proven a perfect fit for someone like me. Further, my eye for equivalence has made it easy for me to incorporate Voodoo into my daily life.
The major component of the Voodoo religion is honoring one’s Ancestors and Les Lois. There are ceremonies, feasts, and offerings appropriate for each, and times which are most suitable for these activities. In rituals, each is honored at the proper time, and generally alone (one particular Loa at a time, the Ancestors collectively with their own altar and ceremony separate from that of Les Lois). However, as one learns more about these spirits and deepens one’s relationship with them, one starts to find ways to honor both categories of spirits in everyday life. Here, outside the confines of formal ceremony, the restrictions are much looser… whoever you choose to honor, and however you choose to honor them, what matters most is that whatever one does comes from the heart. It’s here, in the little things I do here and there to honor my Ancestors and Lois, that my eye for similarities becomes useful.
My father served in the U.S. Navy during World War II and witnessed many important battles in the Pacific. Although he chose not to continue his military career after the war, he used to share stories, photos, and souvenirs from that time with me. I always found it fascinating, especially since I had come along much later than my siblings and this was distant history to me. When Dad passed away in 2001, he was interred in a mausoleum in the veterans' section of the cemetery, among other soldiers and sailors of his and other generations.
It wasn't until years after Dad's passing that I discovered the Voodoo religion. Some of my first experiences with Les Lois, after my introduction to Papa Legba, involved the great warrior Ogoun, and some of the first signs I received were from this spirit. As my involvement with Voodoo deepened, I began to reflect upon what my late father would have thought about this path and Les Lois. Dad found other cultures interesting, and was pretty open-minded about religion, so I feel that he would have found these spirits fascinating. And with my tendency to notice common themes and elements, I began to realize that in the world of Les Invisibles, Dad and Ogoun are probably good friends who are watching over me together.
Like Ogoun, Dad was unafraid of war: he was barely out of high school when the bombing of Pearl Harbor prompted him to enlist in the Navy, and he realistically faced the fact that he might not return. Like Ogoun, Dad was a strategist: after the capture of the Tachibana Maru (a Japanese hospital ship which was attempting to smuggle weapons and troops across the Pacific), he noticed that the captured Japanese soldiers were riveted with fear, having been instilled with the belief that Americans were brutal monsters who would torture them; suspecting that one of the soldiers understood some English, he arranged for this soldier to visit an injured fellow captive being cared for in the hospital to see that the “brutal monsters” they’d been taught to fight were actually compassionate humans. And – even though Dad didn’t drink after being diagnosed with diabetes in his mid-40s – like Ogoun, Dad liked rum: card parties with my aunts and uncles usually involved delicious frozen lime daiquiris, and our family has a funny story about one night when some half-empty glasses were unintentionally left within reach of little three-year-old me! Naturally, these parallels have made it easy for me to honor both Dad and Ogoun in my everyday life. My father’s bayonet hangs on the wall of the room where I perform many of my rituals, a means of honoring them both – even when I am just watching television in that room, I can gaze at the wall and know that both of them are guiding and guarding me.
Since the cemetery in which my father was laid to rest is very close to my home, I am able to visit whenever I wish, changing the floral arrangements in his vase to fit the holidays and seasons. And because of common elements which I have noticed and recorded in my mental files, I often use these visits as an opportunity to not just attend to Dad’s grave and honor him, but also to honor some of the Lois as well. I may take along some coins to place at the gate for Baron Samedi… after all, it’s his house that I am entering! On occasion, when I stop along the way to purchase flowers, I pick up a cup of good strong coffee for Maman Brigitte, the Baron’s bride (with whom I also have a special relationship)… after my visit with Dad, I stop at a peaceful group of trees and pour out the coffee against a tree trunk for Maman. As I stroll among the graves of the veterans, I have a chat with Ogoun, remembering some of Dad’s war stories and imagining how he must enjoy sharing them with Ogoun. The flowers I place in Dad’s vase, whether real or silk, usually contain both red and purple – purple is my favorite color, and Dad knew this well and joked about it with me; red was the color of the dress my mother was wearing when my parents first met. Besides honoring my father, though, these colors also offer a tip of the hat to the Baron and Brigitte (purple) and Ogoun (red). And, since all these spirits like rum, I sometimes bring a flask along, pouring out a drink for each before I depart!
So, you see, Voodoo is not simply composed of elaborate rituals for which you must find – or make – the time… it’s also made up of little things you can do here and there to honor your Ancestors and the Lois. Looking for little parallels and patterns can help you turn a simple errand or task, such as shopping or gardening or freshening the flowers on a parent’s grave, into an act of love and respect for these wise and noble spirits. Did your grandmother share Erzulie Freda’s love of flowers? You could reflect on this and talk to both while tending your rose bushes… do a little digging to plant some new ones, and you could honor Azacca as well. Do you have fond memories of your father taking you to the beach when you were a child? Then your next trip to the seashore can also be an opportunity to honor Agwe and La Sirene (as it certainly will be for me – can’t forget that Navy link!). To me, just noticing and pondering these little connections helps me to feel closer to both my Ancestors and Les Lois… and the closer you feel to your spirits, the more open you are to the valuable help and guidance they offer.
Ayibobo!
Khouzhan Phoenix ♥
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