I have no desire to espouse the platitudinous power of prayer, or to suggest that good vibes are enough to end a war. But creative spiritual practice can help us move out of paralysis and into the space of miracles. It can put us in the solution, or at least make us available, for when it’s our time to be called. Look, it’s something.
We did experience a miracle, just a week ago, with the trade of captives for detainees, and a temporary ceasefire. Then it all fell to shit again. But in the spirit of Sagittarius season and its impossible, impractical optimism, I’m choosing to believe in magic, and will be sharing some spiritual resources to open up a better way forward. It’s recommended that you take this as a launching point for your own directed action and intention. Make it your own.
BEGINNER’S GUIDE TO PRAYER/INTENTION
To begin: My beloved NYLON editor, Layla Halabian, has lately been encouraging me to share on my spiritual practices, which has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my career. Please use Astrology, Planetary Altars and the Power of Devotion as a primer (and while you’re at it, check out my piece on how Avatar: The Last Airbender turned me into an astrologer).
Off the bat, it’s probably my job to remind you that you can, at all times, call on your long and rich ancestry, your future self, your inner parts, your loved ones (living and dead), gods of every faith, angels, masters and the never-failing higher power.
You can pray for anything: insight, clarity, direction and the means to be of service; for compassion and intelligence to reach people in power; justice and peace for the dead; relief and care for the living.
I just interviewed astrological master and pro-democracy activist Caroline Casey. She’s all about getting playful and creative. Use your preferred art practice. Use food. Sing. I make collages. Do anything to get your juices flowing, and to get the higher ups to pay attention. Maybe they’ll reveal to you something tangible you can do to change this thing, to get us out of this mess.
SOME GODDESSES TO HIT UP:
I will be sharing hymns from the Athanassakis translation of the Orphic Hymns, which is probably not legal. I read from these hymns every single day, and I highly recommend you use this translation for the maximum oomf power.
PERSEPHONE
The tea: she’s my supreme queen, born as a maiden of the flowers and plunged into the bowels of hell; she bridges life and death, summer and winter, truth and beauty. Persephone is the queen of the underworld, and in many tellings was originally taken there as a captive. Considering the literal underworld of tunnels Hamas has constructed, where weapons are stored and captives are held…I found her, as always, to be a relevant deity for the moment.
As a morning star, Venus disappears from our view for long parts of the year, completing her underworld initiation, descent, rebirth and resurrection. Persephone views destruction and death as necessary to rebirth; she is at once both comfortable in her dark domain and in her springtime gardens. Though the cycles of nature are ambivalent, I am not, and am so pleading anyway for the safe release of captives and the restoration of those men who hold them hostage, who have been led to live in tunnels; maybe there is some way she can life them all up to the sunlight, in a new paradigm of peace?
Offerings to Persephone: Crack open a fresh pomegranate and lay the seeds out in a fancy presentation. Fresh flowers. Obsidian is good too. It should be stated that Persephone is queen of the dead, and, as the dead also reside under the earth, they can and should be invoked in all of these proceedings (they like spring water and home cooked food). Invite your ancestors and loved ones over for a meal, and you’ll be shocked by how much insight they have to offer. For altar basics and how to organize offerings, see my guide here.
The hymn to Persephone:
Persephone, blessed daughter of great Zeus, sole offspring of Demeter,
come and accept this gracious sacrifice.
Much-honoured spouse of Plouton, discreet and life-giving, you command the gates of Hades in the bowels of the earth, lovely-tressed Praxidike, pure bloom of Deo, mother of the Erinyes,
Queen of the nether world, secretly sired by Zeus in clandestine union.
Mother of loud-roaring, many-shaped Eubouleus, radiant and luminous, playmate of the sesaons, revered and almight, maiden rich in ruits, brilliant and horned, only-beloved of mortals,
In spring you take your joy, in the mead of breezes, you show your holy figure in branches teeming with grass-green fruits,
In autumn you were made a kidnapper’s bride. YOu alone are life and death to toiling mortals.
O Persephone, you ourish all, always and kill them, too.
Hearken O Blessed Goddess, send forth the fruits of the earth as you blossom in peace,
and in gentle-handed health, bring a blessed life and a splendid old age to him who is sailing to your realm, O queen, and to mighty Plouton’s kingdom.
HEKATE
The tea: The three-faced titaness who predates the Greek gods, Hekate rules over liminal spaces — the sort of places where gay men love to have sex! — crossroads, transitions and ambiguities. As my cousin Moish has said to me, regarding this conflict: “no one knows what’s going to happen.” We really don’t. Hekate also seems relevant here, as over 125,000 Israelis and over a million Gazans have been exiled from their homes, wandering into an uncertain horizon. It’s twilight.
Offerings to Hekate: The usual, involving bread and sweet pastries, is always good. Hekate’s time is the new moon (next one is December 12), where you are advised to clean your apartment and leave all that you don’t want (clothes, food, etc) at a crossroads. Or you can just give money to someone in need, or donate it to a cause — the idea is that you’re putting what’s yours in the hands of the unknown stranger.
The Hymn to Hekate:
Lovely Hecate of the roads and crossroads I invoke;
In heaven, on earth, and in the sea, saffron-cloaked,
Tomb spirit, reveling in the souls of the dead,
Daughter of Perses, haunting deserted places, delighting in dear,
Nocturnal, dog-loving, monstrous queen,
Devouring wild beasts, ungirt, of repelling countenance.
You, herder of bulls, queen and mistress of the whole world,
Leader, nymph, mountain-roaming nurturer of youth, maiden,
I beseech you to come to these holy rites,
Ever with joyous heart and ever favoring the oxherd.
Beyond these two, you have infinite options. Mars, god of war? Mercury, master of communications? Michael, the angel of battle, or perhaps his strategic brother Raphael? And there’s always the interfaith Mother’s Prayer for Peace. You tell me: I’m all ears for a solution here.
It ain’t over ‘til it’s over. I choose to believe that this can improve.
More from me:
December horoscopes, via NYLON
Readings and gift cards, available to book here.
Love,
David Odyssey
This was so gorgeous! Sending you love and hugs 💋