I’ve officially been on sabbatical for two weeks (out of the eight weeks I’m taking), and I can already tell you that time off, while extremely important for self care (and for getting things done, like packing up this house and moving our home elsewhere), is also a valuable learning tool. What could one possibly learn from an unpaid vacation? Read on, Dear Friend….
Lesson #1: Prioritize Your Priorities
The primary purpose of this sabbatical is to pack, move, and then unpack and settle in. So what does one do when one is not actively engaged in packing, moving, or unpacking? Those first few days of my “time off”, I had zero clue what to do with myself! I even went so far as to look at sites on what to do when one retires, all of which had three things in common:
They all suggested taking up a hobby.
They all suggested taking up a sport.
They all suggested getting a part-time job.
Which left me wondering: if you’re so bored now that you’ve retired that you need to develop a hobby, take up a sport, and gain a part-time job, then why the hell did you retire in the first place? This got me thinking a lot about my own priorities, and about priorities in general.
Most people have a list somewhere in the back of their brain (or, perhaps, if they’re lucky, in the front of their brain) of the things that are the most important in their life. Now, these may be things that are truly important–things without which life becomes bland and/or unlivable–or these may be things that are peripherally important–things that are necessary to facilitate the truly important things. My experience of abject boredom during that first week of my sabbatical made me take a long, hard look at my own priorities, and sort through and differentiate the truly important from the peripherally important.
So what is truly important? In the interest of not boring you to tears with the details of “my little life”, let’s answer that question in an “across the board” fashion:
Yes, I know that might sound trite, but I have found it to be an ultimate truth. The hippies in the 1960s got it right: so long as you have peace in your life (a life free of drama llamas, including yourself!), love in your life (whether from a beloved, or from family and friends), and you are happy and fulfilled (able to do things that make you smile and laugh, as well as feed your passions), pretty much anything could happen in “your little life”, and you’d still come out relatively unscathed on the other side of whatever happened!
Boredom, at its deepest core, is a feeling of emptiness: it’s that thing we feel when we’ve lost sight of our priorities, and forget for a moment to simply enjoy the peace, feel the love, and focus on happiness/fulfillment.
Lesson #2: Plenty Is As Plenty Does
We live in a society where the word plenty somehow automatically equates in our minds with monetary wealth, but when it’s all said and done, ultimately, money is one of those priorities which is peripherally important. Money is a thing which may help facilitate those three things that are truly important, but it doesn’t lie at the core of any of them. Plenty, on the other hand, often does.
Plenty is actually defined as “a large or sufficient amount or quantity; more than enough”.
I ached over the need to take this sabbatical, because I was afraid it would interfere with my previous definition of plenty: i.e., plenty of money to pay my bills, help out around the house, and purchase the furniture and things we’re going to need in our new home. What I have found over the course of the past two weeks is that I have exactly the same amount of that particular definition of plenty, whether I’m working my tail off every day or not. Meanwhile, when I’m not working my tail off, the really important plenty has increased three-fold: I may not have plenty of money, but I do have plenty of peace, love, and happiness/fulfillment!
The bottom line is: plenty is as plenty does. When you sit around focusing on money as the definition of plenty, all you ultimately wind up with is realizing precisely how poor, financially, you actually are. In the process, you also end up killing peace, pushing away love, and feeling sad/unfulfilled. However, when you focus on the really important plenty, you find yourself doing plenty: enjoying peace breeds more peace; recognizing love breeds more love; focusing on happiness/fulfillment breeds more happiness/fulfillment!
Lesson #3: Don’t Complain, Explain.
To complain is to explore a situation by focusing on the most dissatisfying or annoying parts of that situation, whereas to explain is to explore that same situation by focusing on the most relevant and meaningful parts of it. Complaining shatters peace (it is the ultimate drama llama bait!), annoys love (it pushes people away), and denies happiness/fulfillment. On the other hand, explaining can actually bring about peace, foster love (as it encourages people to listen and then attempt to meet genuine needs), and lead to happiness/fulfillment.
The entire process of selling a house, packing your belongings, finding a new home, and then moving your stuff and unpacking it into said new home sucks. I’m not talking a little amount of suckage, like “wow, rainy days really suck”, I’m talking major, industrial vacuum cleaner level suckage, like “you stubbed your toe on the couch so hard you’re now bleeding? Man, that sucks!” The whole thing is a bigtime complain vs. explain opportunity.
I’m not gonna lie: I spent most of the period just prior to taking this sabbatical complaining. I complained about the lack of sleep I was getting, due to early call-times by our real estate agent for showings, as well as other issues. I complained about the size of the yard at every home we looked at. I complained about having to put my much-loved stuff in storage. I complained about having to take the cat out of the house in ninety degree heat on short notice. I complained about how the entire business of having to keep the house spotless for showings while also having to pack impacted my work schedule. I complained, and complained, and complained. Consequently, there wasn’t a moment of peace to be had: I officially became a drama llama. I drove my Beloved bugnuts, which had some serious ramifications in the love department. I was constantly unhappy and unfulfilled, and pretty much on a mission to get everybody else on the unhappy/unfulfilled bandwagon.
And then something wonderful happened: I stopped complaining and started explaining. I’m still not getting enough rest, but in two more weeks, we’ll be in our new home, and I can sleep whenever I please (between unpacking and homemaking, of course). The yard at the new house isn’t exactly huge, but you know what? It has an actual tree, and less yard just means less to mow! I am presently staring at blank walls and mountains of boxes, true, but all the stuff that’s already in storage is probably safer for the move than the stuff presently sitting in boxes in my office, so now I wish I had packed it all from the get-go! We may have had to take the cat out of the house on short notice, but guess what? We made new friends! Finally, in keeping the house spotless for showings, I discovered there are more fulfilling forms of work than my work-work: making Suzanne smile is the most rewarding thing in my corner of the universe! Guess what? Now I have peace, and I realize just how deeply I’m surrounded by love, and I’m as happy and fulfilled as the loudly purring cat who is presently asleep in my lap!
Lesson #4: Your Stuff Should Tell A Story
I’ve spent a lot of time over the past two weeks (and the months prior) deciding which things to throw away, and which things to actually wrap lovingly in bubble wrap and put in boxes. As a borderline hoarder (who is in love with a chronic purger), that has been a really tough process for me. As an artist, I have a desperate need to be surrounded by pretty things. That has made putting things in boxes very tough. I also tend to attach memories to things (more on that in a moment), so throwing things out is very hard for me. As the boxes have mounted to fill our entire storage space, and now my office as well, I find myself wishing I had learned the previous three lessons sooner than now….
Because if I had, I would’ve realized: your stuff should tell your story. If it doesn’t actively tell your story, or if it doesn’t help you tell that story, then you don’t actually need it in your life. When I say it should tell your story, I don’t just mean that your stuff should somehow be symbolic of your actual autobiography. What I mean is way deeper than that: it should tell the story of what you wish and want your life to be. It should represent a deep expression of those truly important priorities we talked about in lesson one: peace, love, and happiness/fulfillment.
This theory came into play a lot when I was cleaning out my desk. Obviously, my desk is where I do all of my day-to-day work for Iaconagraphy. It is also where I keep all of my important documents (like Michelle’s birth certificate), my myriad notebooks for online gaming, and all of my snack food. Betwixt and between all of that, there are also a thousand dead lighters, a vast collection of character-shaped erasers, and various other flotsam and jetsam from my life (such as saved movie tickets and things “I might scrap one day”). In short, apart from those important documents, there was a lot of crap in my desk! There were legit six boxes of cookies in my snack drawer! Six boxes!
As I was going through all of that stuff, it occurred to me that the vast majority of it was autobiographical, but patently did not tell the story that I want or wish to tell. It was autobiographical in that yes, I really like cookies, I smoke a lot (I have to, to maintain the necessary intake of coal tar to keep our disabling psoriasis on at least an even keel), I like quirky things, and I really enjoy scrapbooking. But the story that all that stuff told was not the story I want or wish for: instead, it was a story of getting fat, being annoyed (because there are few things more annoying in life than a dead lighter), putting my own quirkiness in a drawer or on a shelf, and never having time to do the things I really enjoy. So the cookies went to that great cookie graveyard in the sky, and the lighters joined them in the trash bag. I kept the erasers as a reminder to stop putting those quirky parts of me in a drawer or on a shelf, and I resolved to actually scrap the things “I might scrap one day” as soon as we’re settled in our new home.
Everything I pack now is weighed against the question: does this tell my story as I wish or want my life to be? I have a feeling this new lease on life is going to lead to a lot of throwing things away during my unpacking process!
So what do I wish or want my life to be? What’s my story? Once upon a time, there was a guy who had to die to learn how to live. He loved the ocean, he loved a beautiful, brilliant woman (who loved him in return), and he also had the love of good friends and extended family. And one day, he realized the ocean wasn’t someplace you go; it’s a feeling. So he decided to surround himself, and the beautiful, brilliant woman he loved, with that feeling every day. He realized the call of the gulls as you lie on the beach is really friends talking to friends, so he decided to be a seagull, and finally embraced his wings. He discovered that cleaning and homemaking and creating beauty all around him gave him the peace he craved, so he decided to do those things all the time, instead of the things he had been doing, which made him perpetually cranky and constantly reminded him that he was financially poor, making him very, very sad. He finally understood just how loved he was, and he basked in that, the way sunbathers bask in the sun. And the dead man who learned how to live and his beautiful, brilliant woman, and his good friends and extended family lived happily ever after, and they were all fulfilled.
Commercialized Magic: Employing supernatural powers or demonstrating the power to apparently influence the course of events via mysterious or supernatural forces purely for the sake of profit and/or financial gain.
That is not what we do here at Iaconagraphy. It never has been, and it never will be. However it has recently been brought to our attention that some people view any use of spiritual gifts in the creation of a product to sell as precisely that, so we felt the need to blog about it, and clear up any misconceptions or preconceived notions that might be held by others of our followers and folks within our customer base. We’re going to be doing this blog post a wee bit differently from our norm, as Michelle and I are co-writing this one. She has served as a psychic service professional for far longer than I have, with a combined thirty years of Tarot and oracle card reading experience, though only in a paid capacity for the last two. I have personally been “tossing runes” for twenty years, as well as reading oracle cards for myself and friends, also as an un-paid reader, until now. She is ordained; I am not. She is published; I’m not yet. Therefore, I feel that hearing both our perspectives on this issue is not only worthy, but warranted.
Warning: If you are sensitive to certain types of “language”, be forewarned. This post contains some mild profanity.
So what does qualify as commercialized magic?
Connla: As far as I’m concerned, anybody who “hangs out their shingle” as a “psychic service professional” based more on what they can gain than on what they can give is committing an act of commercialized magic. The key word in the phrase “psychic service professional” is service. If the only thing you’re intending to serve is your own damn wallet, then you need to stop muddying the waters for the rest of us who are actually here to perform a service to other people.
Michelle: First of all, I don’t consider “psychic readings” to be a form of magic; I consider magic to be magic. A psychic reading does not actively attempt to “influence the course of events”. We aren’t “making shit happen” by doing a reading for you. We will hopefully be providing you with tools, so that you can “make shit happen” yourself, but no amount of advice “makes shit happen”, psychic or otherwise. Anyone who tells you that a reading they have performed for you is going to “make shit happen” in your life probably also has a bridge over the Marianas Trench they’d like to sell you! That’s “snake oil salesmanship” at its finest. I consider active spellwork to be magic, because that’s precisely what active spellwork is: it is performing an action with the direct intent of “influencing the course of events”. Neither Connla nor I will ever participate in active spellwork for money, for a variety of reasons. First, because that obviously is actively doing magic for money (though that doesn’t necessarily mean that even that falls under the heading of “commercialized magic”, as defined above), but our reasons go much, much deeper than that. Magic always comes at a price, and I’m not talking about money when I say that. Simple physics tells us that “every action has an equal and opposite reaction”: when you perform a spell, there will be some “equal and opposite reaction” incurred. As such, active spellwork is an intensely and necessarily very personal thing. Neither of us are “into” incurring anybody else’s equal and opposite reactions! We create enough of those of our own, on our own. I’m not willing to say that there aren’t people out there who are selfless enough to take those sort of risks for you–the conjure community has been full of precisely those sorts of people going all the way back to ancient Africa–what I am willing to say is that doing readings of the type that we do here at Iaconagraphy is taxing enough, without adding active spellwork to that mix. For the record, not all active spellwork for money is “commercialized magic” as defined above, either: if someone is doing that as a service for others, rather than solely for what they personally financially gain from it, then that’s not commercialized magic; that is simply a different sort of psychic service profession from what we do here at Iaconagraphy.
How is what you do different from commercialized magic?
Connla: First, and quite simply: we’re here to serve others, not to serve ourselves or our own wallets. The financial bottom line is not what I was put here to serve: I was put here to serve the Gods first, and other seekers second. While the old adage of “a gift for a gift” and an active energy exchange are necessary for our very survival in this world, I made a decision months ago to no longer be a slave to our bank account. I don’t serve it; I serve the Gods, and I’m here to serve all of you.
Second, most paradigms of commercialized magic put forth a “here, let me do it all for you” perspective, which makes the person purchasing said “services” wholly dependent upon the person performing said “services”. This is how things like “Tarot addiction” get started. The “Tarot addict” becomes as dependent on the Reader as the alcoholic is on their local bartender, or the drug addict is on their local dealer. That’s how such people keep the money flowing in: they continue to build on that dependence exactly the same way as a drug dealer. “Your life is shitty?” “Here, let me do another reading for you and give you all the answers so it will be guaranteed to be less shitty; that’ll be $200”. We don’t do that. Our readings are designed to be stepping stones; nothing more. They provide advice that could potentially help you improve your life, sure, but they are never put forth as the “be all and end all” answer to all of your problems. We can’t do that; we’re not Gods!
Michelle: One would hope that the answer to this question would be self-evident, from my answer to the first question, but just in case it isn’t, let me be overtly honest: a person who was actually offering readings as a form of commercialized magic (especially of the “snake oil salesman” variety that has been implied in this particular situation) would not be as deeply offended as I am right now! I lived in the South for most of my life–forty-two years, to be exact–in an area of the country where any psychic ability was either viewed as being “of the Devil” or “fakery for the sake of money-making”. When I began to read Tarot at the ripe young age of fifteen, for free, as a service to my peers, I received death threats after they proved to be uncannily precise. Meanwhile, the local “psychic reader” in our town, who was a complete charlatan, performing readings purely for the sake of making money, was allowed to practice in peace: no threats of burning crosses in her yard; no threats of “we’ll burn you at the stake in the local churchyard”. That experience taught me at a very young age that if I ever, ever considered making money off of my God-given gifts, someone would actually make good on those death threats! I subsequently did my level best, for the next twenty-seven years, to hide away my psychic gifts as much as was humanly possible. When you’re me, that’s a little bit hard to pull off. I consequently became agoraphobic. I reached a point where I was actually afraid to go out in public and remotely be myself, much less remotely entertain the thought of offering my skills as a service for money. Three years ago, we moved to Massachusetts, and I suddenly found myself living in the “Girdle of the Goddess”, instead of the “Bible Belt”. Here, my gifts are seen as precisely what they are: gifts. Here, there is actually an industry based on people offering such gifts in service to the public. I could finally be wholly myself. Not only that, I could finally be recognized as what I am: a gifted psychic service professional.
How do you personally feel about commercialized magic?
Connla: I feel the same way about commercialized magic that many Heathens feel about the AFA: those people muddy the waters for the rest of us. Those of us who are really into this for the right reasons get lumped together with all the “boardwalk psychics” and “gypsy fortune tellers”, and get the same bad rap, and fall victim to the same levels of disrespect–disrespect which we patently do not deserve. Just because I perform this sort of service for people for money doesn’t make me a con artist or charlatan, anymore than me being a Heathen automatically makes me a racist!
Michelle: My simple two-word answer to this question would be: that depends. Depends on what exactly? Mostly, it depends on whether or not the person in question is actually legit. If a person is legitimately gifted with the ability to perform magic (and “psychic activity”), and is selfless enough to be willing to do that for other people, and then chooses to charge for their services as a way of either avoiding the necessary “equal and opposite reaction” (energy craves energy; “a gift for a gift”), or as a way of maintaining their lives (i.e., simple survival), then I certainly don’t take issue with that. Go them! I just know that isn’t a life for me, or for Connla. We have enough of our ownendemic mental and physical backlash, without courting other people’s. However, if a person is a “snake oil salesman” of the magical variety, they are actively making our lives more difficult by promoting the stereotype of the “boardwalk psychic” and the “gypsy fortune teller”, and that, quite simply, pisses me off. Either a person is actively working in service to the community (services for which they should wholeheartedly get paid), or they’re a con artist and a grifter; they just choose to dress up their con and their grifting in the language and trappings of the supernatural.
What’s the difference between a psychic service professional and a “boardwalk psychic” or “gypsy fortune teller”?
Connla: A psychic service professional does exactly that: they provide counseling services to others, for which they are paid, which rely on their own gifted (psychic) abilities. They attempt to lead you to a point where you can develop your own answers, providing you with potential tools along the way to assist you in doing that. A psychic service professional understands the old saying “you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make them drink.” They’re not there to essentially pour that water down your throat. A “boardwalk psychic” or “gypsy fortune teller”, on the other hand, bases their “services” on either telling the consumer precisely what they want to hear, or the exact opposite (so that they can then provide answers for how to avoid catastrophe), in an effort to keep the money sliding across the table and into their hand.
Michelle: To me, that’s like asking “what’s the difference between a barber in the Old West (who usually also performed the occupations of surgeon, dentist, veterinarian, and mortician) and a modern surgeon”? Or, better yet, “what’s the difference between the Seidhkonas and shamans who served our Ancestors and the old lady downtown with the neon ‘Psychic Reader’ sign in her window who is basically only pedaling bullshit for money because she possesses no psychic ability whatsoever?” In the Old West, if you suffered a gunshot wound, you hoped the barber could fix you up; in our modern world, going to the barber with a gun shot wound is pretty much a guaranteed way to die! (Better hope he’s also a mortician; chances are, he’s not!) In the ancient world, people with actual psychic ability were held in extremely highesteem: we need look no further than the evidence of artifacts within their collections of grave goods to see the truth in this statement. That they might remotely be a fake was not a factor: theirs was seen as a sacred duty, not only by the perpetrator of the action (the shaman, Seidhkona, or other “magickal practitioner”), but also by the people whom they served. I see what I do as a sacred duty in exactly that same way, and so does Connla. The little old lady passing herself off as a psychic while pedaling bullshit for bucks clearly does not! As Connla said above, a psychic service professional does exactly that: they provide a service to others; they are not merely servicing themselves!
Why offer such services for money? Isn’t that a slippery slope?
Connla: Other people in service professions get paid, why the hell shouldn’t we? Service professions are defined as professions which require special training in the arts or sciences in order to serve others, and include accountants, dentists, pharmacists, morticians, hairdressers, barbers, psychiatrists, and social workers. You likely wouldn’t entertain the thought of not paying your hairdresser, right? Why should it be any different when it comes to us?
Insofar as it being a slippery slope, I would ask you: Do you consider paying your hairdresser the first step down a slippery slope? Sure, there are people out there who are out to take your money, and that’s all they care about. That’s been a reality in the Universe since time began. There are also people like us who are out here to do our jobs. When you sit down for a haircut, are you thinking in the back of your mind “well, what if they cut my hair crooked so that they can charge me extra for fixing it?” For most people, the answer to that question is “no, of course not”. That’s because we tend to go to hairdressers we know beforehand we can patently trust. When choosing a psychic service professional, the same rules should apply: pick someone who has proven they can be trusted. Otherwise, caveat emptor: buyer beware. No slippery slope necessary.
Michelle: The Seidhkonas, shamans, and other “magickal practitioners” of ancient times were paid for the services they rendered, why shouldn’t modern people performing the same services likewise get paid? I’ve heard it argued that such people of ancient times amassed all of their wealth because people paid them respect, of which those items were an outward sign. Isn’t money paid to a modern practitioner the exact same thing? Or are we somehow less worthy of respect, simply because we are separated from that time period by a few thousand years? I’m sorry, but that is, quite simply, bullshit! In case I haven’t made this clear enough, I’m sorry, but I’ve been fighting to have my giftsrespected for forty-five years! The primary difference between now and then, insofar as how that respect might be shown, is that back then, part of the respect factor involved not only the giving of gifts in payment, but also bowing down before the person in question as a revered individual. I explicitly chose the title of Ollamh (essentially: “Poet-Teacher”) at the time of my ordination precisely because I don’t believe any person is worthy of the title of “reverend”. People aren’t meant to be revered, only Gods are! So the modern way of showing that respect is by expressing that person’s worth in the form of monetary payment, which mirrors the giving of gifts to the person providing the service as a sign of respect, as has been done since such services have been practiced by humankind.
Insofar as charging for such services creating any sort of “slippery slope”, I would refer you to Connla’s perfectly eloquent response above.
Isn’t marketing such services almost like a form of “spiritual prostitution”?
Connla: Gee, let me think: Is a hairdresser practicing “hair prostitution”? Is an accountant practicing “number prostitution”? Is a dentist practicing “tooth prostitution”? All of these other service professions depend on a person choosing an occupation based on their gifts. Hairdressers become hairdressers because they are gifted with the ability to style hair well. Accountants become accountants because they are gifted with an ability with numbers. Dentists become dentists because they are gifted with an ability to treat people’s teeth, and an interest in doing so. All of these professions require years of study and practice. We don’t look down on them or judge them based on their gifts, nor their active pursuit of said study and practice; we’re just very grateful they had those gifts in the first place, and put in the time to become adept at their professions. Psychic service professionals are exactly the same, our gifts just happen to be of a supernatural variety, and without years of study and practice, we wouldn’t be professionals, we would be little more than dabblers. So why is it that when we use our gifts, after years of study and practice, to actually earn a living, we get accused of “spiritual prostitution”, but your local hairdresser or dentist is seen as a valid service professional? That is, quite simply, unfair.
Michelle: I have heard some professional readers liken the way their services are treated by tourists to a form of psychic prostitution, yes. I have also felt that way myself on more than one occasion, when a client has come back six times with the same damn question, simply because they don’t like the responses they’ve received, and are hoping this time they’ll get what they really want to hear. I’ve also felt that way myself when people expect my services to come for free. (In fact, I’ve even joked, when referring to the latter situation that I am “patently a prostitute, not a whore”!) When readings are treated as nothing more than a form of entertainment, rather than an actual serious service that is being provided by the reader, then, yes, this definitely becomes the equivalent of “psychic prostitution”. But I personally feel that is the case with any Spirit-driven profession. If you are making what is ostensibly votive art, for example, purely for the sake of “what can I put on a t-shirt this week?”, then that is also a form of “psychic prostitution”. During the medieval period, when the Catholic Church offered plenary indulgences in return for money, that was also a form of “psychic prostitution”. For a moment, let me do as Connla so eloquently did above and take the “psychic” part out of the equation. We are all gifted with something that we’re so skilled at doing that it could potentially be the basis of our occupation. That’s simply the way the world is designed to work. Painters, paint (and I don’t just mean the artistic ones; I also mean the ones who paint houses for a living). Those who are gifted at medically taking care of other people become doctors and nurses. Those who are good at arguing points become politicians and lawyers. At what point do any of those professions based on a person’s natural gifts become “pimping your gifts for dollars”? At the moment when that person–or the people employing their services–views that gift and its subsequent off-shoot-profession as nothing more than a money-making activity; at the moment that they or the people employing their services either overvalue or undervalue the part that the individual performing said services personally plays in getting whatever job in question done.
Why seek a reading from a psychic service professional, when I could just “throw my own cards” or “toss my own runes”?
Connla: We are all human, and, as humans, we tend to have our own inborn biases. If you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you can “throw your own cards” or “toss your own runes” without any of those biases entering your mind as you interpret those cards/runes, then you may never need the assistance of a psychic service professional. That assumes that you know how to read cards or toss runes in the first place, which not everybody does. It also assumes that you’ve put in the same level of study and practice as most people who choose to do this for a living, as a professional. Finally, it assumes that you have confidence in yourself as an intuitive/psychic. If the answer to any of those things is a resounding “no”, then a professional reading would be a good investment.
Michelle: If you feel that you can perform the exact same services which we provide for yourself, all by yourself, then by all means, do so. Also, it is very nice to meet someone else who has put as much time and effort into the study of this field as we have, and with similar psychic gifts. We don’t meet many people like you, so please, let’s chat, hang out, or something!
How do you determine what to charge for your services?
Connla: How does any other service professional decide what to charge for their services? We do it exactly the same way! First, we figure our overhead costs. When dealing with a service-based industry, as opposed to an industry that is based on shipping actual crafted products, those overhead costs include all the things that are necessary to stay in business: things like your internet connection, maintaining your website, equipment used to perform the service (in our case, cards, runes, incense, and a computer), room and board (because if you don’t have a roof over your head and food in your belly, chances are, you’re going to be physically unable to do any job in the first place!), marketing and advertising, and any necessary further education/study/necessary certifications. If you’re charging less for your provided service than your overall overhead costs, then you’re doing it wrong. Next, you consider how much labor (work) your service actually requires: how physically or mentally taxing is the service provided? This is commonly referred to as labor cost. Labor cost is why, when you go to a mechanic, you don’t just pay him for the parts! Finally, you weigh things like experience and skill. What is your level of experience and skill worth monetarily? The final price on something is not just a source of income, but also a signal of its worth. This commonly breaks down in the human brain as “cheap cost=shotty service”.
Our overhead costs include everything on that list in my first paragraph. This site isn’t being hosted for free. Our internet access is not free. Our cards and runes did not come cheap, nor did this computer on which I am typing (which we use not only to advertise our services, but also to provide them in the final format of a PDF delivered via email), nor does the incense and other things required to reach an alpha state and perform the readings in the first place. Our room and board expenses should not be dependent solely on the “good graces” of other people–we are not Stewart from Big Bang Theory! Marketing and advertising are neither cheap nor free. Resource materials to improve our skills (such as books and classes) are, for the most part, neither cheap nor free. Any further certifications in our field (and, yes, that’s actually a thing!) cost money.
Our labor costs are determined based not only on what it takes out of us, both mentally and physically, to perform this service, but also on how much time performing this service takes away from performing the duties of the rest of our business and our life in general. Every reading is, on average, a good three to four hours that we cannot be working on writing, art, marketing, or “earning our right to live here” (i.e., helping to maintain the household). When we are done with a shamanic reading (the type of readings we presently offer), we are tapped out. Achieving the alpha state alone is enough to require a good, long nap. Mentally and physically, this involves a whole lot more than just “getting down on the floor with some cards and some runes”. Shamanic readings require a psychic connection with the querent, as well as with those entities, forces, and energies which are coming in, to assist in giving answers in the reading. This service is, therefore, both mentally and physically taxing. Wearing ourselves out like that shouldn’t come for free, anymore than a mechanic wearing himself or herself out under your car, covered in grease and oil, with the potential of that car coming down on them and crushing them (accidents do happen!), should come for free!
Finally, our worth is high: we have a combined fifty years of experience (thirty on her side of the equation; twenty on mine) with psychic ability and performing readings (runes, Tarot, and oracle cards); she has proven psychic ability, and I’m a “dead guy” and a practicing vitki (which I didn’t become overnight, on a whim). That’s a level of experience, and those are skills, that you don’t run across every day. That is worth something! I’m sure you probably have your own distinctive personal skills and experiences which you offer in your own field of work. What if your employer suddenly told you those weren’t worth anything?
Michelle: When I first began doing readings for money, I significantly not only undervalued my abilities (because I had been led to believe my entire life that what I can do was not only worthless, but also dangerous), I also severely underestimated the toll doing this for a living would take on me, mentally and physically. I neither considered the effects it would have on the time constraints of the other parts of this business (writing and art), nor did I consider the effect it would have on the people around me (friends and family members who also require my time and who patently do not like constantly being told not to disturb me). I subsequently wound up in situations where I would perform a reading which took me six hours from start to finish and then making $20. That’s not even including subsequent personal counseling sessions. In the end, I was averaging making $1.00 or less per hour of my time. That’s way less than minimum wage, in payment for a distinctly skilled labor service profession! Thankfully, I have Connla, who worked out all of the stuff he talked about above. What we can do is worth more than $1.00 or less per hour! I am worth more than $1.00 or less per hour, and so is he!
We hope that this blog post and mini-interview clears up any misconceptions or preconceived notions that people might have about exactly what it is that we are doing here at Iaconagraphy, when it comes to offering paid-for psychic services. Above and beyond anything else, at the end of the day, we are here to serve you: whether that be as writers, artists, or psychic service professionals. Everything that we do is in the nature of that service: service to all of you, who have supported us on this journey, and service to the Gods, for all of the gifts which They constantly pour into our lives. Anything less than that, and we would not be living to the full potential of who we have been created to be. We would not only be performing a disservice to the community, but to ourselves, and to the Gods. When all is said and done, this is about far more than money; this is about living true. And that, my friends, is priceless.
If you are interested in employing Connla’s services as a psychic service professional, please click here. We would be delighted to serve you!
Most of the people I know who are dedicants of Freyja at some point, sooner or later, wind up working with the other members of Her family, including Her brother, Freyr, and I am no different. My first offering to Him was actually a piece of votive art, which seemed only natural, coming from a working artist, given His position as a God of “good seasons” who is often associated with financial gain. His link to other sorts of fertility, hallmarked by ancient depictions of Him as a god with an enormous, erect phallus, led some of my friends to joke about being “careful what I ask for from Freyr”. All chuckling aside, however, I have found my relationship with Freyr to be more brotherly than titillating.
To my non-Heathen (and especially my Christian) friends, I often compare Freyr to St. Matthew. For those unfamiliar with that particular Apostle of Christ, St. Matthew was a tax collector, which was a hated profession among the people of that time, making him “one more misfit among a crew of misfits”, in the company of Jesus’ companions. One of the Gospels of the New Testament is attributed to him—in fact, it’s the first of the Four—and in the Catholic Church, he is considered the patron saint of bankers, providing a link to financial gain, not unlike Freyr. In artistic depictions, St. Matthew is often accompanied by a winged man—what moderns would immediately recognize as an angel—which I view as a second link to Freyr, as Lord of Alfheim. Some might find drawing a cognate between these two blasphemous, but Freyr Himself doesn’t seem to mind, and as far as I can tell, neither does Saint Matthew, and that’s good enough for me! Besides, sometimes we find ourselves in places and situations where it is far safer to tell someone that you are making an offering to a saint they readily recognize, rather than to a Norse god whom they don’t.
I will readily admit that I first came to Freyr because of frequent feelings of financial destitution: much the same reason that I initially arrived at the feet of His father, Njordr. Running one’s own business is incredibly hard. Running a business based on the arts and actually ever breaking even is apparently well-nigh impossible. Seeing my constant state of depressed desperation, it was Freyja who suggested that I speak with Her brother during one of my Friday blots. As usual, I did as I was told, and I found myself standing out at my ve, cup in hand, pouring out a whole lot more than the red wine blend it contained. My first meeting with Freyr was tear-filled and entreating, and in response I received a gentle breeze, the feel of a steadying hand upon my shoulder, and the resounding message in my mind of “It’s going to be okay; I’ve got you”.
Since then, I have begun honoring Freyr every Friday, alongside His sister, Freyja, and while my finances still aren’t stellar, I find myself crying about them a whole lot less. I’ve also found myself inexplicably attracted to something that could not be further from my personal norm: gardening. Freyr is slowly changing my focus from the “green stuff” (money) to actual green stuff (plants). Anyone who has ever known me can tell you that this is way outside my wheelhouse! I’m also finding myself wanting to spend a lot more time “in the green-world”, out in the woods, and in nature in general. Now, most folks know my obsession with bird-watching, so me wanting to spend time outdoors might not seem like that huge of a leap, but I’m finding myself wanting to “go Thoreau”, and seek out some quiet place in the wilderness where I can “live deliberately”, and that couldn’t be further from my norm. As the guy who is known for the quote “bears may shit in the woods, but that doesn’t mean Connla does”, wishing I could go spend time in a cabin somewhere is a completely alien desire.
I am slowly beginning to see Freyr’s point in making me want these things, however: He is trying to show me what is really important in life; what really matters. The “green stuff” with which I line my wallet isn’t that. Money comes and money goes just as easily; the green-world has been with us forever, and hopefully will be with us for a very long time to come. There are different sorts of being rich, and the most important sort is when you look around and realize the wealth you already have. That’s what being in nature teaches me. I am already rich. What need is there for monetary wealth when I have air in my lungs again, and a wife who loves me? Sure, there was a time in my life-before-this-afterlife when I was pretty financially well-taken-care-of. I had a great support system of family and friends, but back then, I couldn’t maintain a romantic relationship if my life depended on it. I didn’t have what I have now, with her. I didn’t have to worry about how I was going to pay my bills, but I also had little time to truly feed my passions of art and writing. In fact, I was too afraid to even attempt the latter, yet look at me now! Nature was that thing I passed through on the way to my next appointment—so that I could keep not having to worry about paying my bills. And then I died, and that could’ve been game over, but it wasn’t. Here I am, and there are still plants to plant, and leaves to brush against, and birds to watch, and art to make. And I actually have time for all of those things, when I never did before. I actually have time to live deliberately. That, my friends, is true wealth.
Freyr has also taught me a lot about manifestation. Sometimes those lessons have come in the form of “holy wow, thank you, Freyr!”, and sometimes those lessons have come as a slap on the hand, as when telling a little child “hey, that’s not for you.” It has been very hard for me to come to value the latter, I’ll readily admit. But even when the lesson has included a slap, there has been that constant brotherly hand on my shoulder with the words “It’s going to be okay; I’ve got you”. Thing is, when you combine Freyr’s lessons with the lessons of His sister, Freyja, that “I’ve got you” eventually becomes “and you’ve got you, too”. I’ve come to understand that all of those depictions of “Freyr with His gigantic phallus” are about far more than sexual fertility: they’re also about self-esteem. He is Freyja’s brother, after all, and one of the ultimate lessons of The Lady is to love ourselves unconditionally. He just teaches that lesson in a slightly more “man-up” sort of way, which it turns out is precisely what I needed, as a man who lives his afterlife within a woman’s skin.
Both the Ynglinga Saga and Saxo Grammaticus’ accounts of Freyr suggest Him as a “God of the Mound”; a god of the Dead, but also of the cycle of the seasons and the fertility of the crops, not dissimilar from Dionysus. We are told in Grimnismal that Alfheim was given to Freyr as a “tooth-gift”–a gift given to an infant upon the cutting of their first tooth—making him the “Lord of Alfheim”, or specifically, “Lord of the Ljosalfar”. So, Freyr, “Lord of the Mound”, is also Freyr, “Lord of Alfheim”, making Freyr not only a god of the wealth of life, but also of the legacy of death. As such, He has been a huge help in my coming to grips with being literally the Chosen of Freyja in the darkest sense of those words. Through my relationship with Freyr, I have finally come to understand that Death itself is a cycle, as full of seasons and fertility as any Life. There is no need for me to mourn what has gone before—my old life, “back when”–but instead there is a very distinct and maybe even desperate need for me to celebrate this life-in-death which I have right now.
He is called “Light-Bringer”, and I can honestly say that since He came into my life, that life has become brighter in ways which I could never even have imagined, if left to my own devices. Freyr does bring light with Him when He comes: the light of realization; the light of hope; the light of dawn after the darkest of nights. I light a candle for Him now, when things grow bleary here in my little world, and I invite in that Light, and in return, I am left shining as well.
Come shine alongside me and Freyr! Let’s Get Wyrd! Openings for readings with me are currently available here; book yours today before they fill up!
The above selection is an excerpt from my upcoming book, Wanderer: Romantic Heathenry for the Rest of Us, available soon!