A Surprise Visit

Over the past 4-5 years, since expanding my personal spiritual practice to include Celtic Shamanism, Witchcraft and Folk Magick, I have noticed something rather interesting. My mediumship abilities have expanded to include certain helpful spirits. Some of the beings who have entered my spiritual practices were never human, but were created as mythological beings for villages and communities to pass along important moral and spiritual lessons through oral tradition. And then there are times I surprisingly meet up with a spirit who actually was a human. Today, I met up with someone new, and I’d love to share my story with you.

Whether you call them deities, angels, or guides…doesn’t really matter. They aren’t beings to be worshipped. They act as allies on our path, revealing new and interesting areas of ourselves to explore and heal. There is usually an interesting coincidence that brings them across our path, and also the meaning of their essence or what they stood for can bring us additional support. When we call up their energy or essence, their support during certain times in our lives can activate our intentions and expedite gifts we are receiving or lessons we are learning. I lean into these supportive energies, and work with several who have come to me gradually including: Cerridwen (Welsh goddess of the cauldron who came to me through a book series), Baba Yaga (Slavic crone who also came to me through a book), Brigid (through a Celtic Shamanism class), Bastet (through a tangle with a couple of cats), Hekate (through being gifted antique skeleton keys) and now the Patron Saint Dymphna.

This morning I was safely cleaning and preparing bones from a beaver skeleton I discovered recently on a hike in the woods of Wisconsin. It was without a doubt a gift from spirit. I had been wanting to work with Osteomancy, the art of bone divination, and so awhile back I sent out an ask to spirit and my ancestors to bring the right ones to me. They were found just 24 hours after the full moon, and by a rolling creek (it’s awfully nice here in the midwest for winter this year). Something was so special about this and so sacred. The waiting was over.

Part of bone reading can include adding charms, dice, keys, seashells and other objects. So I scoured my home determined to locate other objects to add to my bone divination kit. A tin of antique buttons was staring back at me from the shelf in my kitchen buffet, so I pulled it out and started rifling through it. I was initially clever to locate one button in each of the colors of the chakras - thinking that must be why I was randomly drawn to this tin. Something told me I wasn’t done looking, and then suddenly my hand surfaced a delicate silver pendant with the image of what looked like a saint. On the back are the words inscribed, “Saint Dymphna pray for us.” I hadn’t heard of this saint, but was curious enough to research her story.

Dymphna was alive during 7th Century Ireland. At age 14, she took a vow of chastity and consecrated herself to the work of Christ. Soon after this, her mother died. Her father Damon was urged by the King to remarry. Frought with desperation to find someone as beautiful and as kind and loving as Dymphna’s mother, and having no luck - Damon turned his attention towards Dymphna, as she so closely resembled her mother. When Dymphna discovered her father’s intentions, she fled and eventually landed in what is present day Belgium. She took refuge in the town of Gheel. Oral tradition states that Dymphna built a hospice for the poor and sick of the region. Damon was relentless, and sent agents to pursue his daughter. Her hiding place was discovered, and when he attempted to force her to return to Ireland, she refused. In his rage, Damon drew his sword and beheaded her. She was 15 years old.

In 1349, a church in her honor was built in Gheel (now spelled Geel). By 1480, so many were coming to the church from all over the area to seek respite and treatment for psychiatric disorders. Soon this place became renowned as a sanctuary for those with mental illness. This began a tradition for ongoing care of those with psychiatric conditions that has endured for over 500 years.

Dymphna is now revered as the patron saint of mental illness.

Given I was recently diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, the relevance of this story was not lost on me. The coincidence of her entry into my life was more than enough to keep me researching. I have been calling in healing energies allies, and collaborators for some time to continue to assist me in healing generational trauma throughout my family line that includes a wide range of mental illness and memory loss.

After doing a bit more research, I discovered the day that Dymphna was beheaded by her father was May 30. This happens to be my birthday. The utter shock and simultaneous horror at discovering the cause of her death at such a young age, and also the synchronicity of her date of passing washed over me in waves. I took this as a sobering and humbling cue that her energy is worth integrating into my spiritual practices.

I am not a Christian, and so making contact with a Catholic saint felt odd and ironic, yet somehow perfect at the same time. Dymphna’s energy reached out to me through a random tin of buttons I brought home from a flee market this past year. Little did I know that I would be one day digging through it and find her. I have no idea how we will work together, but I do know I look forward to getting to know her…how she would like to collaborate with me…what she might have to teach me. It’s exciting to meet a new member of my growing spirit team, and I’m so grateful to have made this connection. I am open to what I might explore with her, but most importantly, having her energy confirm and reach out to me from beyond - was just the soothing salve for my heart and soul today.

After properly clearing and blessing this pendant, I put her on a chain to wear around my neck. Who knows what doors may open in the coming weeks and months around my own personal healing journey?

Thanks for reading my story, friends.
Peace, Chanda