Samedi: The Frog With the Banjo

We have talked before about the importance of keeping quiet when in the midst of a magickal undertaking. Even after the thing is done and finished, whether successfully or not-so-much, the wise root worker keeps it to themselves, perhaps discussing it with a trusted companion or two but nothing more. Rumination on this time honored truth yesterday brought two things to my mind. The first involved the wisdom of this blog and the second involved an old hoodoo story about a reptile playing a stringed instrument.

The story, as I originally heard it, involves a frog with a banjo. Other versions I have sense collected include turtles, lizards and alligators as well as frogs playing banjos, guitars and fiddles. In one unusual case I found a version from Arizona that tells of an armadillo with a guitar, clearly a sign of not just hoodoo influence but Latino as well. Generally speaking, though, the animal is native to the bayous and swamps of the south and the instrument is either a banjo or a guitar. Here is the way I learned it:

A boy was out fishing in the bayou and the sun was going down. Unfortunately he had not been lucky and he wanted to catch something substantial before he headed home. He dipped his hook in the murky water and closed his eyes tight, praying for a healthy fish to take home to Grandpa. After a minute, the boy swore he heard someone strumming a banjo and then he heard singing too. He opened his eyes in surprise because this spot was not usually visited by anyone else.

Imagine the boy’s astonishment when, on a log floating by, he saw a frog playing a tiny banjo and singing in a handsome, tenor voice. The boy stood up, dropped his pole and with his heart thumping in his chest he ran home as quick as he could. He burst in to the little house where he and his grandpa lived.

“Grandpa! Grandpa! You’ll never guess what I saw.”

“Probably not,” Grandpa said without looking up from his paper. “You catch anything?”

“Yes! No! Grandpa, I saw a frog playing a banjo!”

Grandpa looked up this time, his white eyebrows raised and his dark brow furrowed. “You what?”

“I saw a frog playing a banjo down to the bayou, and he was singing too. Come on now. This is something you – ”

For as old as he was, Grandpa moved pretty well and before the boy could finish his sentence Grandpa grabbed him by the arm. The boy got a whipping he would remember all his life for lying, and Grandpa sent him to bed without supper.

The next day, after school was done, the boy managed to talk his grandpa into going fishing with him. He prayed the whole way down to the fishing hole that the frog would float by again, singing in his sweet voice and strumming on that banjo. After a time of silence, the boy started to talk about the frog again. Though Grandpa said he’d hear no more about it, the boy couldn’t help himself. As the sun began to go down, Grandpa was about to give that boy another whipping just for lying twice over.

All of a sudden, the sound of a banjo floated over the water and a handsome, tenor voice was heard singing along with the melody. Grandpa looked and there was that frog just like the boy had said, with a banjo in his little, amphibian hands. And the frog sang: “You all have seen me. Don’t tell all you know. Live happy now.”

The boy and Grandpa went home, and never again did either of them mention that magickal frog. In return, no matter when they went to that fishing hole they always caught enough fish to feed themselves and a few neighbors besides.

Of course the frog is a totem animal, otherworldly and only capable of working his magick if the creatures he looks after keep their mouths shut. The lesson is well taken. If we speak too freely, the ancestors will doubtless give us the beat-down. Faites attention, mes amis ~

Header: Frog Playing a Banjo in Moonlight via AllPosters.com

Jeudi: Root Work

Lucid dreaming, spell work, astral projection, divination, cursing, healing and countless other ways of magick require one thing in common: the mindful and continuous shut down of the active conscious brain. I’m not saying that you have to be “unconscious” to make a mojo bag or read the cards for a friend by any means. That’s just silly. But that irritating, chattering, gerbil-on-a-wheel part of your brain that repeats the annoying commercial jingle while it reminds you to buy bread next time you’re at the store and keeps asking “did you unplug the toaster?” has got to be stopped.

The capacity to shut down that part of your consciousness is, for most of us at least, a life long struggle that requires practice. Well, in all fairness, it requires daily practice. Of course we’ve all read metaphysical authors who speak of “some people” who can “go into trance without thinking about it, as if they were switching off a light” or some other predictable metaphor. The reality is that who these people might be remains unstated and frankly, if they’re out there, only these authors seem to have met them. The fictional Merlin/Samantha/Harry Potter doesn’t exist. No amount of Latin or nose twitching is going to alter Newtonian physics or conquer millennia of evolution. Only dedication will. And the dedicated worker must practice.

So here’s what I do. Every night. Regardless. Climbing into bed becomes a ritual in itself that leads, after a lot of practice, to the ability to be able to overcome the Mom voice in my head. At least long enough to accomplish the occasional working of real, honest, magick.

Lie down on your back. That really is the best position for this meditation; flat on your back. Ladies who are pregnant or those with other medical conditions that prohibit lying in that position should modify the meditation appropriately. I liked to lie on my right side back when. Now close your eyes and take in a few deep breaths. Breathe in and out through your nose; those of you who practice yoga probably already have that exercise down. Try to silence your thoughts completely. Concentrate only on your breathing for a moment.

Now begin to systematically relax the muscles in your body while fighting the urge to consciously think about what you are doing. Start at your feet, work up through your calves, knees and thighs, relax your butt, your pelvis, your abdomen. Work up to your chest and feel your breathing slow down. Now your shoulders, down your arms to your hands and back up to your neck. Sometimes this is the hardest part of all, getting your shoulders and neck to relax; keep breathing and stop thinking. Progress upward and relax your jaw, your tongue, your face, your eyes, your forehead, your scalp. By now your breathing should be deep and slow. Without allowing your “inner voice” to disturb your peace, sink into the mat or mattress beneath you, breath and allow your subconscious to go wherever it wants to go. Try to hang in this space without thought for as long as you can but, once you are thoroughly relaxed, don’t force it. When it’s time to come out of your meditation and go to sleep, do so. You can come back to the exercise tomorrow night.

That’s it. If you are willing to do some version of this exercise consistently, I can guarantee that you will have more success concentrating in all aspects of your life. The mind is a creature of habit. Force it into some good habits and the benefits are surprising. As an aside, this is also a great way to wind up a workout, allowing your body some moments to completely relax once you have finish. Just be sure to keep warm as you may feel a bit chilly during the meditation.

Give it a try. If nothing else, this exercise is a great sleep aid that has no ill effects. And that in itself is a bonus in our hectic, modern world.

Header: Girl Asleep by Johannes Vermeer