Sunday Scribblings - Miscellaneous

There are ingredients required for bone singing. The first is bones. Big surprise, huh? The second is 'graveyard dust' which is just a fancy expression for graveyard dirt. The third is darkness. I remember asking Michael why darkness was required, and the answer was typical of Michael. He said "because we are birthed from darkness into light and when we die, we return to the darkness." How very non-helpful. How very confusing. How very mysterious. How very Michael. There are also a lot of other miscellaneous ingredients which are not technically required, but are useful to have around. I like to have a blood relative of the deceased present. I'm not sure exactly why, but it strengthens the magic somehow - possibly because the living bones call to the dead bones through some kind of blood link. It is strongest between children and their parents, as one formed the other. But it works for Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles, that sort of thing. I like to have candles lit. I know from reading the Aveda Necropolis that the ancient Bone Singers would have flaming torches mounted on the wall, but I prefer small pinpoints of light in the darkness, as opposed to great roaring flames. It seems more respectful, like the candles in the darkness are like stars twinkling in the night sky. It comforts me.

The singing itself is hard to describe, and I've tried. No one really understands how it works, or why. Michael reminds me frequently that it doesn't matter why it works, only that it does. But it is in my nature to question "why?" and "how?" so I muse over the process from time to time. The best I've come up with so far is that all living things have their own music - and I don't mean that in a hippie flower power earth hugging sort of way. It isn't music as we know it. It is a sort of universal chord - like "om" splintered into millions of different patters and tunes, and each living thing sings. Our bones have their own song - each unique and different. My gift is to hear how bones sing. "Hear" is a misnomer, though, as I don't use my ears to listen. I use a part of my mind, a centre of stillness in which all I hear is the sound of bones singing.