The title says it all. For the past two weeks, all I have seen when I scry are clouds. Rather like the clouds you can see swirling gently in the background.
Big, white, fluffy, and f r u s t r a t i n g for me.
OK. This is an improvement to the images of death and destruction that I was seeing a few weeks ago, back when I was using a shaving mirror instead of a black obsidian mirror for scrying.
I’ve been meaning to ask V. , and so today as the morning was quiet did:
“V. We both know I’m not your apprentice. But I’d be really grateful and happy if you can tell me why I’m seeing clouds”
V. leaned forward, finger nails, painted jet black, varnished and tapping on the desk, a sure sign that she is either thinking or about to kick off.
“There are normally two reasons for seeing clouds when you scry ...” and then a pause - full of meaning.
“You know this may take a while. I think we need coffee, and none of that instant muck that I’ve seen you give to some of our less discerning clients”.
This was followed by a theatrical/witchy shudder, and by me making the coffee. Finest beans of such a dark brown that they were almost black. Grind. Inhale. Place in coffee pot. Induction if you want to know. Listen to the sounds of coffee percolating. Wait. Enjoy the aroma.
After some considerable time, instant coffee is called instant for a reason, and er real coffee, real coffee for a reason, V. poured the coffee not trusting me for such sensitive work. No milk for either of us.
We both took our first taste. Me, looking like someone you would cross the road to avoid (I’ve reverted to type after leaving the bank), and V. with an ornate table lamp behind, her features in silhouette mysterious, enigmatic even.
The coffee was perfect. Smoky. Evocative of tents, plains, steppes. Snow. Wolves. What? What was that? What was I thinking?
“Not my apprentice then” whispered V. as I started.
“Now let me tell you about scrying and why you are seeing clouds”.
Scrying is one of two things, and your interpretation will depend on your worldview, and is either visions and omens from the others or a manifestation of your thoughts as you project your minds eye on the mirror.
I have recently hidden several witch bottles around my flat. One in the hearth (and that wasn’t straightforward) and one in the garden. This meant, in my case, that the clouds were unlikely to be external, and were more likely to be a manifestation of my subconscious.
By the way, V. explains very thoroughly and in great depth where she considers it important, and in far more detail than I ever note down in these pages, and mistakes are due to my lack of understanding.
“Many people consider scrying to be no more than external manifestations, which is a mistake, as the subconscious is equally mysterious”.
I have condensed a half hour explanation into a few lines.
“Let us consider your situation”.
V. paused and we both considered my situation.
“Not too bad” I said.
I’ve got a job, a stake (small) in a few of V’s online business ventures, a relationship, a black cat (ironic and not by choice), friends with normal jobs (and don’t know about these pages). I even have hobbies (again outside these pages). No need to over-share?
V's assessment was more nuanced.
“You are in two minds about your situation, and this is literally and figuratively clouding your judgement”.
“It is clear to me that the reason that you see clouds when you scry is that you haven’t yet internalised your change of life”
“You have consciously come to terms with your loss of traditional employment, prospects, status, Cassandra and that particular future. But as yet you have not subconsciously accepted the loss of these things and managed to feel at peace with this realisation ”.
“Over time as both your conscious and unconscious accept your life as it is your scrying will improve”.
I could see the logic in this. I still sometimes wake from dreams where I am either working in the bank (all opulence and business lunches) or in the process of being ‘let go’ from the bank (being marched out of the office).
“The sooner you let go off your old life, the quicker your scrying will become more effective.” V pretended to slit her throat for emphasis and repeated "Just let it go".
Easier said than done. One day you have your life, career and pleasant home counties existence mapped out (a partridge with every cartridge anyone), and then you are working for a witch with your previous existence nothing but fading memories.
“Outside of this, there are other things which I suspect are clouding your judgment”.
We had now moved outside the realms of scrying.
“Relationships. Where do I start? And your cat!”
My cat? Relationships?
“A black cat has moved into your house, and you haven’t asked him what he is called. And seeing a barmaid every now and then doesn’t qualify as a serious relationship.”
“You would never have lasted in the banking world. You are too normal”.
This comment coming from V. whose daily life involves magic, fortune telling and reading, psychics, spirits along with a gaggle of oddballs drifting into our office periodically is bittersweet. I always wanted to be part of the straight world, the establishment, but have drifted further and further into ...
“Let it go. Just move on. We have more important matters to contend with. It’s almost full-moon.”
I’ve got so used to V. seeming to know what I think that it barely registered. But the full moon, that rung a bell ...
... OMG I’d completely forgotten. The full moon. Wear wolves. Vampires. Monsters. Worse. Much worse.
“We had better prepare” said V.
“I’ll call Malintzin” I replied.