Animism - Blog Posts

“Who will listen any more to their long, slow songs; who understands the language of stones? Not these people, for sure. They don't even know that the stones are alive.”― Sharon Blackie

Foxfire, Wolfskin: and Other Stories of Shapeshifting Women

Your body is an ancestor. Your body is an altar to your ancestors. Every one of your cells holds an ancient and anarchic love story. Around 2.7 billion years ago free-living prokaryotes melted into one another to form the mitochondria and organelles of the cells that build our bodies today. All you need to do to honor your ancestors is to roll up like a pill bug, into the innate shape of safety: the fetal position. The curl of your body, then, is an altar not just to the womb that grew you, but to the retroviruses that, 200 million years ago taught mammals how to develop the protein syncytin that creates the synctrophoblast layer of the placenta. Breathe in, slowly, knowing that your breath loops you into the biome of your ecosystem. Every seven to ten years your cells will have turned over, rearticulated by your inhales and exhales, your appetites and proclivity for certain flavors. If you live in a valley, chances are the ancient glacial moraine, the fossils crushed underfoot, the spores from grandmotherly honey fungi, have all entered into and rebuilt the very molecular make up of your bones, your lungs, and even your eyes. Even your lungfuls of exhaust churn you into an ancestor altar for Mesozoic ferns pressurized into the fossil fuels. You are threaded through with fossils. Your microbiome is an ode to bacterial legacies you would not be able to trace with birth certificates and blood lineages. You are the ongoing-ness of the dead. The alembic where they are given breath again. Every decision, every idea, every poem you breathe and live is a resurrection of elements that date back to the birth of this universe itself. Today I realize that due to the miracle of metabolic recycling, it is even possible that my body, somehow, holds the cells of my great-great grandmother. Or your great-great grandmother. Or that I am built from carbon that once intimately orchestrated the flight of a hummingbird or a pterodactyl. Your body is an ecosystem of ancestors. An outcome born not of a single human thread, but a web of relations that ripples outwards into the intimate ocean of deep time.

Your Body is an Ancestor, Sophie Strand

Stop equating animism with anthropomorphism challenge, go!

In my worldview and my understanding of animism, it is more about acknowledging and recognizing that everything on this planet is a part of the planet's whole and that each thing - no matter how big or how small - carries a spark of that whole within its part. That spark does not in any way apply the meaning of "life" as we know it and certainly not human-like intelligence or emotional capacities.

To not appropriate the terms from another culture, the best word for this spark is most likely "spirit" but that is where things get tricky. We often call the remaining presence of a human after death a spirit, but we mean very different things here despite using the same term. When used to describe what resides within all things on this planet, I would say that "spirit" here means something more akin to "life force". But that also gets confusing because by calling it "life force" it can get confused with "living" which is also not really what is meant at all.

If one considers, for a second, that every object inside of your house has one thing in common - to paraphrase Carl Sagan: every bit of it is made of star stuff. More specifically, we exist because of vast volcanic eruptions early in our planet's history so we could say instead (and this is a deeper hint into my personal religious predilections here): it is all made of volcano stuff.

That to me, that space stuff, or that volcano stuff, that is the spark of life - that is the spirit - that is the life force within all things.

That doesn't mean that all things are living (obviously?). That doesn't mean that all things have a big S Spirit or that they have sentience, intelligence, and most certainly it does not mean that they have human-like emotions.

What it does mean is that once upon a time, every object - your plant, your toenail, your cat, your spork - all of them were a part of the primordial fire that created all of this (/crazyhandwaving). That each thing plays its role and has its place. And because it has a role to play and a place - it is deserving of respect.

How does this idea of respect for everything play out in my life? I think about what I consume. I try not to throw things away unnecessarily. I care for the objects in my life by cleaning them, using them as intended, storing them properly, etc. It means that I don't value humans over the other creatures on this planet (we are all made of the same volcano stuff and this is the home to all of it). It means that I don't value the life of animals over the life of plants (sorry vegans - you keep doing you but that doesn't work for me). But that doesn't mean sentience. My knife isn't out to get me and won't get mad if I use another knife because it is an object. It has a simple existence: it is made for cutting. Do I think that you can imbue an object with something more than that? Yes, but I don't believe that it is a simple matter to do so and I don't think that it just happens. I strongly suspect that even knives that have been used to inflict great harm are still most likely just knives. Perhaps it is best to understand that in order for anything to experience the world in the way that we, as humans, experience the world, it would have to be quite close to human. Yes, your cat may experience some level of jealousy if you pet your other animals - or get mad at you when you go away from two weeks; but watch how quickly those emotions leave your animal. Compare that to the way that a human acts and how long emotions remain. Then consider, in the relative scheme of things, how close your cat is to a human.

Your plant doesn't get mad at you if you don't water it. Your house doesn't get resentful if you fall into a depression and can't sweep the floors. In my worldview, even the gods aren't as rageful as we've been led to believe - most of that is just made-up human shit.

And honestly, that makes me feel better about my life, and it makes me feel connected, which is why I keep believing in it.

Some of you may have already come upon this one, but I’ve found that when it comes to objects I want to imbue with magic or bring to “life” (in an animist sense), simply just breathing on them goes a long way. Like a rock can be “dead” and then you can just breathe on it and the little fella just wakes up. Of course you can do this on anything you want, like stuffed animals and figurines and all of your tools. You could even do it on a snowman if ya want. So yeah. :D ETA: Breathing on things can also be fine for quick cleansings. Just blow on ‘em like you’re blowing off dust or whatever.

For the witchy asks: 🌹🦄

witchy asks

8. (🌹) - what's something that isn't talked about enough in the witchcraft community?

I don't know if it's not talked about "enough," but I find it very curious how many witches who are also animists totally ignore inherent correspondences within nature.

Arguments about where correspondences come from and what they mean very often seem to focus totally on human decisions and desires.

I've always been under the impression that the fact that correspondences for a single thing often vary from culture to culture causes people to assume that humans make them all up.

There rarely ever seems to be an idea that oak trees in England are different fellows from oak trees in Ohio (pretending that the couple hundred of species of oak don't exist and it's all just One Guy), and that authentic connection to the tree will validly produce different correspondences in each area.

Or that spirits are as multifaceted as humans. As an individual, to some people I bring pain and injury, and to others I extend deep love and protection. But if an animal spirit does so, that means those two "correspondences" are incompatible, and therefore the human made them up and projected them.

Or that as humans, two of us may see the same facet of a spirit and we ourselves respond to it differently - so of course, there is nothing inherent in the herb, all that matters are our own reactions, and there is no meaning within the plant beyond our attitudes towards it.

Or that the individual spirit of a single plant is an individual, and is not a nameless hivemind pouring fourth an unwavering, set pattern of meaning and power.

Of course not everyone works with spirits, or is an animist. But for spirit-working witches who are animists, I often question why they speak of natural things as being meaningless until a human ascribes the meaning.

9. (🦄) - what's something that's talked about too much in the witchcraft community?

I'm not sure I can say. I haven't been back in a "big" community long enough to comment on it.

But you know what, let's go ahead with TikTok.

People talk about TikTok too much.

In modern Heathenry there is a concept of spirits known as the Disir (singular Dis). While there is some debate on the true origins of these spirits, it’s a common belief among todays Heathens that these are female ancestral guardians. I personally equate these spirits with The Mothers in Fayerie Traditionalism, those femme spirits that serve The Great Mother.

There are two modern festival/feast days associated with them: Mother’s Night, and Disablot.

But why not today? Why not Mothers Day? Today is a day that we celebrate the mothers of our respective families (blood and chosen) Today is a modern festival to venerate those enfleshed Matriarchs that we love and hold dear. To me it would make sense to extend that love and devotion to the Mothers that walk with us in the Unseen. Just sort of wondering out loud I suppose. I think in the future I might set aside time to honour all the Mothers in my life, Seen and Unseen.