I used to regularly perform ritual work that is considered to be a good introductory practice. While writing this post, I discovered that there is now a wikiHow article on how to perform this ritual, which is possibly one of the funniest things I’ve ever read. I used YouTube like a proper heathen!
One day before practice, my cat Amber joined me in the room. I never practiced around animals before, other than some childhood experiments I conducted while my old kitty Starlight observed from the bed.
Amber is more rambunctious, but she remains highly perceptive, as so many cats are. She sat on the desk, contentedly purring away.
The ritual began with the first vibratory intonation. It was barely above a whisper, just enough to feel it in my chest. More volume is encouraged, but I did not have much privacy at the time.
Amber stilled and stared wide-eyed at me. On the second vibration, she rushed under the bed to hide. Usually she only reacts that way during thunderstorms, or when she hears fireworks.
I paused to comfort her and try to coax her out from under the bed.
She soon rushed out from the other side of the bed, pawing at the closed door so she could be let out.
Once she escaped, she ran into another room and hid under a step stool. There she remained utterly still, unblinking, staring into the room I worked in.
I shut the door and resumed working. When I finished and stepped out of the room, Amber stayed in the exact same position under the step stool. I walked over to pet and reassure her.
She did not shy away from me, nor did she acknowledge me. She just kept staring into the other room.
This work involves some angelic names. After intoning these, I requested help for a sick family member. When Amber finally came out from under the step stool, she went and stared in the same way at my family member while they rested in bed.
After about an hour, Amber relaxed and went about her business. In the following days, she refused to step foot in the room I worked in. When she did enter it again, she went cautiously and with some coaxing.
I suppose I can’t be too surprised at her reaction–it is technically a banishing ritual, after all–although I never intended to give her some kind of cosmic middle finger.
I no longer practice this specific work, but if I prepare to do any of my current work, she picks up on it right away and leaves in a hurry!
The next day, my family member recovered. When they came across Amber, she sat staring into a blank space. The first thing they said was, “Aww, do you see angels?”