Julian, CA
May 19, 2021
When I first moved to Julian three years ago, I had a dream: to create an entire home that would be a sacred space. Although I had a strong calling to come and live in this magical place, it was incredibly daunting in the beginning, filled with many obstacles.
On moving day I was confronted by the immense damage that had been done by previous renters and what they had left behind. My partner, landlords and I spent a weekend cleaning up a pile of trash left behind in the driveway and myriad odds and ends in the garage. A few months later, I discovered a mound of buried trash in the back yard that took weeks to shovel out and clean up. The yard itself also took weeks to clear out all the weeds, dog poo, and fallen branches. It was a project. I was fortunate that I worked from home, and I spent every break throughout my day working on the house and the yard to restore it to the beautiful and serene nature retreat that I knew it could be.
When winter came, we discovered the house itself was terribly drafty, with multiple plumbing and electrical problems that had to be remedied. Our only source of heat — the wood stove — needed repair, and the fireplace was usable, but smoked if the wind shifted. My landlords, who are also my friends, did a ton of work to make it habitable for me and gave me carte blanche to create my vision, but it took months before my new house began to feel like a home.
We also discovered in the course of time that we had a ghost. The woman who lived in the house before me had died, and she was angry that someone else had moved into her space and was messing with things. Things kept breaking, there was sometimes a weird vibe to the house, and in general I often felt like I was walking through molasses. There was no feeling of flow and ease.
Thankfully the place had a powerful protective land spirit, embodied in a very old apple tree in the back yard. This wonderful tree was covered with tiny apples even though she had been neglected and not watered or pruned in years. I decided to ask for her help by sitting beneath her branches to vision and pray. I gave her organic fertilizer and water and asked her to help anchor the land and the house to a lighter, more healing vibration. That autumn I had more apples than I could handle, and I began to slowly feel the energy of the land begin to shift.
Inside the house, I burned sage, scrubbed walls and woodwork with salt water to remove negative energies, and washed the windows. I removed broken blinds and old metal hardware from the walls and windows since metal can hang onto a lot of old energy. My adult son and I both spent a lot of time talking to our “ghost”. Eventually she stopped breaking things and making things hard, and I asked my guides to help her move into the light. After this the energy of the house began to shift as well.
After almost a year here, we were finally ready to choose a name for our refuge. My partner, my son, and I together chose the name “Raven’s Hollow”, in honor of all the jays, crows, and ravens that hung around the place, and that I had a strong connection to.
To build my first altar, I started where I always do — in my bedroom. I like privacy for my morning meditations and small ceremonies. The bedroom altar lets me easily flow into my morning prayer and meditation before I have to face the world, and it’s a place to unburden myself of my day in the evening before sleep.
A basic altar really requires only three things: a table or surface of some kind, a candle, and something that represents Spirit.
I like the table or surface to be at a height where I can sit on the floor to meditate and pray, but you could use a taller table and sit in a chair. The candle can be a flameless LED candle (I once lived in a roommate situation where lit candles were considered too much of a fire hazard and forbidden), a tea light in a holder, or a beautiful scented pillar candle. For Spirit, I use a statue of Aphrodite that is part of a pair of old antique bookends, but you could use anything that feels like your connection to the divine. It can represent a deity or an animal guide, or even the Earth itself.
To “feed” my altar I give it pretty flowers, light the candle often, and burn incense. I also keep a deck of spiritual cards handy for guidance.
In the living room on the mantel I keep a “Holy-Day” altar for the 8 Pagan Holidays. The whole family is welcome to contribute seasonal things from nature, or anything that speaks to them. For Halloween (Samhain to Wiccans) we had fake scary eyeballs that my son and partner brought in, as well as the usual pumpkins and ravens. At Easter (AKA Ostara or Spring Equinox) we had tiny decorative baby chicks and painted wooden eggs. Other shamans I know keep it more simple, just honoring the 4 seasons (or if you live in California, the 3 seasons of Rain, Growth, and Drought).
There’s also a sacred space I created in the old sun porch off the back of the house. It’s become my sacred retreat space containing a futon for shamanic journeys, my handmade shaman drum and rattle, and even a circular rug intended for creating an energetic circle for “big” more formal ceremonies. I love having a haven where I can retreat, shut the door, journey, dream, or just relax and feel the connection to my Goddess.
In the next few weeks I’ll be making some short videos of these altars and sacred spaces and posting to Instagram under SixGatewaysShaman. I hope these can be a guide for you to vision and create your own sacred and magical spaces.
“Because Sustainable Happiness comes from Sustainable Spiritual Connection.”