Talking to Oya is easy. It’s just a matter of talking to Her like you would anyone else. But since She definitely likes to be entertained, I’ve provided a brief request incantation you can use in Her honor. It’s always worked for me, and I have no doubt that it will work for you as well.
CEMETERY ENTRANCE INCANTATION
Oh, Oya, I call on You! Please lift Your head
And grant me swift entrance, Oh Queen of the Dead,
Into Your kingdom. I’ve brought You a present—
Nine pennies in red wine—which I think You’ll find pleasant.
I beg of You earnestly, grant me admission;
Let me enter Your realm without terms or condition!
Once you’ve gotten Oya’s permission, enter the cemetery, uncap the bottle and prepare to give Her the gift. But because protocol is important here, the pennies need to jingle together and make noise. The reason is that you’re doing more right now than just giving Oya a present. You’re also alerting the dead that they have company—it’s a little like knocking on a door—and you want them to hear you. So, drop the wine-soaked pennies in the nearest urn or vase, on a plot curb, or in the paved or gravel pathway. If none of those options are available, not to worry. Just dump the coins into your hand, jingle them together, and toss them in front of you. Then go on about your business.
While you certainly don’t require Oya’s permission to leave the cemetery—you can go anytime you want—it’s important to note that there’s also a proper way to exit. Once you’ve finished thanking Oya and Her subjects for their time and for sharing their home with you, be sure to back out of the entrance. There are a couple of theories on why this is important. One school of thought is that the dead are tricksters and that only fools would turn their backs to them. But I think the one that makes more sense really has to do with good manners. Simply put, it’s downright rude to turn your back to anyone. And you certainly don’t want to insult the dead—especially if you want them to help you!
DIGGING UP DIRT
Contrary to popular belief, graveyard dirt isn’t just used to cause someone harm. It can be a wonderful addition to all sorts of magic, especially when you want to pack a real wallop. And that’s the reason that it’s often used in curses.
I’ve always been told that you should obtain this dirt from the grave of one of your ancestors—someone whose blood runs through your veins—since you have an inherent connection to them, and their spirits should be more than willing to help you. It’s a good point and one that I took to heart when I needed to obtain some graveyard dirt to resolve a particularly difficult situation. The problem was that I lived a thousand miles away from my parents’ graves. And to compound matters, the only person who lived in close proximity to their gravesites not only wasn’t a practitioner but would have felt like she was desecrating their graves if I’d asked her to help.
After giving the matter some serious thought, I finally decided on the next best thing. I’d just go out to a local cemetery, form a relationship with one of the spirits there, and then request dirt from his or her site. So to that end, I asked my husband the location of the nearest cemetery.
Now even though my husband isn’t a practitioner, he’s a much more powerful Witch than I’ll ever hope to be. He always seems to know things that he couldn’t possibly know and never fails to deliver whatever information I need just when I need it. This was one of those times.
“Well,” he said, peering at me from over his newspaper, “if you really want old dirt, maybe you should just go out to Ball’s Bluff.”
To be perfectly honest, the age of the dirt hadn’t even entered my mind. But he was definitely right on target on several levels. For one thing, Ball’s Bluff is a Confederate battleground less than fifteen minutes away, and because I’m from the South with ancestors who fought for the Confederacy, it certainly fit the bill. But the age of the dirt was important too. My intention was to make someone leave me alone. And after the fact, I discovered that the oldest graveyard dirt you can find is precisely what’s necessary to accomplish that successfully. So, armed with a plastic bag and an old soup spoon, I headed in that direction.
When I arrived at Ball’s Bluff, though, I was somewhat confused. Oh, I knew where the cemetery was, all right. That wasn’t the problem. It’s just that I’d expected to have a choice of spirits to chat with. But such was not the case, for the only Confederate soldier buried on the whole property—a property which covered acres and acres—was a brave young flag bearer by the name of Sergeant T. Clinton Hatcher. That being the case, I wasted no time in introducing myself to Sergeant Hatcher and striking up a conversation. I explained that I was a true child of the South, who my ancestors were, and how they were connected to him by cause. Then I explained that I needed the dirt from his grave to defend my name, to defend my honor, and to defend my very life.
I was more than prepared to wait for an answer. I was even prepared for no answer at all and the possibility of having to go to another cemetery. But what I wasn’t prepared for was an affirmative answer so quick and so loud that it nearly scared me right out of my skin!
Once I regained my composure, I went to the center of the grave and began to dig. And that’s when things got interesting. I heard a distinct “Not there, ma’am. Come closer. Up by the headstone.”
I looked up to see who’d caught me in the act, since that’s the sort of thing that usually happens to me, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. It was then that I understood that Sergeant Hatcher’s spirit was not only willing to help me but was guiding me as well. It was a damned good thing too, for no sooner had I gotten what I needed and buried the offering coins, several people strolled toward the cemetery. And had I not been immediately directed to the headstone where the ground was softer, I probably would’ve had to explain myself to those folks. Can you imagine?!
But the interesting part didn’t end there. After I got back home, I decided to do a little research on the uses of graveyard dirt. And that’s when I realized two very important things: That dirt should always be gathered from just below the headstone to make someone go away and, of course, that I owed Sergeant Hatcher big time. He’d not only managed to protect me from delivering an unbelievable explanation and possible jail time but had known exactly what he was talking about.
Of course, the full impact of the magic I’d been party to didn’t actually hit me until I ran an internet search on my new friend, the sergeant. It was there that I found copies of some letters he’d written while in the army—letters to a woman with whom he’d fallen in love. That’s when I knew for certain that I’d been drawn to his grave intentionally and that no other graveyard dirt I could have possibly gleaned from the area would have handled the job at hand. For there, within the letters written by this bright, amusing young man, I found my confirmation: Clinton Hatcher’s pet peeve was men who were too cowardly to defend their women. Defense was exactly what I’d asked of him. And defense was exactly what I’d gotten.
There are probably as many theories on how to gather graveyard dirt as there are graves on the planet. And the truth of the matter is that the exact procedure just depends upon who you ask. For that reason, you’ll only find my personal protocol listed in the guidelines below.
Timing: It’s said that for good works, graveyard dirt should be taken within the hour before midnight and, for evil, within the hour after midnight. That’s all well and fine, but it can really pose a problem in today’s world. The reason is that most cemeteries are locked up tighter than a drum at dusk. And unless you want to open yourself up to a trespassing charge—and Gods know what else—you’d best be gathering your dirt during normal “business hours.”
That said, I usually don’t worry about what time of day I’m handling my collection. Instead, I simply tell the spirit precisely why I want the dirt and wait for permission. Yes, sometimes permission is denied, but that’s okay too. When that happens, I just finish my conversation, thank the spirit for chatting with me, and
strike up a conversation with another of the resident dead.
The only exception is when I need to work at cross-purposes with someone else. And for that, I begin my digging at times when the hands of the clock are in direct opposition to each other and in a position to cross-quarter its face if there were four hands instead of two. The exact times are 9:15, 12:30, 2:45, and 6:00.
Protection: Because spirits are not always the peaceable, gentle creatures we assume they are, you’ll occasionally run across one who decides to wreak havoc with your work. For this reason I always wear a necklace that I’ve charged for protection when I enter a cemetery—any sort of amulet or talisman will do if it’s charged properly—and then ask Oya for Her blessing. This keeps any ornery spirits at bay since not even the most mischievous would dare to mess with Her!
Payment: Never enter a cemetery without at least nine dimes in your pocket. There are several reasons for this. For one thing, it’s polite to give something back in payment for the dirt you’re taking, and nine dimes is the acceptable payment. There’s also a theory that dimes cut the connection with harmful spirits, and if the dirt’s paid for in that medium, they won’t attach themselves to you or your property. In any case, I always bury the dimes where I’ve taken the dirt, and I’ve never had the slightest bit of trouble.
One more thing about the dimes: Some folks insist that only Mercury dimes be used for payment, as His likeness appears on the coins and entices Him to aid in communications. While I certainly see the sense in this, these particular dimes are not easy to come by anymore. So, if you want Mercury’s help, a better solution might be to just come right out and ask Him for it.
Tools: While the most acceptable form of gathering dirt is to dig it with your hands, there’s little I abhor more than getting dirt under my nails—and there’s no way to dig by hand and keep that from happening. As a result, I’ve taken to using an old soup spoon. It’s handy, it fits right in my purse, and it’s easily cleaned between diggings with a baby wipe.
Some practitioners also like to use a knife for digging, as they say it cuts any connection to unsavory spirits that may be hanging around.
Storing: Some folks say it’s unlucky to bring graveyard dirt into your home, but I’ve never found that to be true. However, I do keep it sealed in zippered plastic bags, labeled with my intention, the name of its donor, and the related birth and death dates.
Why even worry about the age of the donor? Because depending on the work at hand, age may actually have a bearing on the results—especially if you intend for the related spirit to aid you in your efforts. The dirt from a child’s grave, for example, might work well for cementing a loving friendship but wouldn’t do much good if a scorching melt-you-into-a-puddle romance was at stake. The rule of thumb here is to never use dirt from a donor who could not possibly have experienced your desired result. And proper labeling is one way of avoiding that pitfall.
One more thing. Please remember to check for earthworms before you bag the dirt, and release any that you find. I can’t say for sure that dead earthworms are unlucky, but there’s certainly no point in finding out!
DEALING WITH SPIRITS
While we’ve touched on the subject of gaining a spirit’s permission to obtain and use dirt from its grave, this is something that truly bears further discussion—especially if you want the spirit in question to help you to achieve the desired result. Taking graveyard dirt without permission is much like breaking into someone’s home and stealing their possessions. And if you did that on the physical plane, the only help you’d get from the injured party would be a one-way trip to jail.
The same is true of the spiritual realm. Yeah, I know that spirits don’t necessarily live in the dirt in the cemetery. However, that dirt comprises the final resting place of the body it left behind. That means that its energy is in that dirt. And to take that without permission is to take the only possession it has left. Go that route and one thing’s for sure: Jail time is going to be the least of your worries.
You also need to remember that asking permission is not enough. Some sort of relationship must be formed with the spirit before proceeding. And depending upon the spirit and your individual needs, this could take a few minutes or several days. You also need to be prepared for the possibility that you’re not going to be able to form a relationship at all. The reasons for this are many—personality clash, little or no common ground, or an objection to your desires, just to name a few—but in this case, none of that really matters. What does matter is that you don’t push the issue. Just thank the spirit for its time, and continue with your search.
Once you do find a spirit that’s willing to help you (and you will), payment for the dirt is not enough. Mind your manners, be polite, and thank it for its assistance. Bring it an extra token of appreciation. You never know when you might need its help again, and no one—living, dead, or otherwise—is going to be willing to offer support of any kind if you can’t even be bothered with common courtesy.
Of course, if a spirit really likes you—if you’ve been kind and courteous and gone the extra mile—it may decide to hang around with you, whether you want it to or not. To avoid this, offer it a piece of black onyx as a parting gift once your goal is achieved. (It’s the stone of separation and will sever your connections peaceably.) And if you need the spirit’s assistance again? Not a problem. Just go back to visit, and be assured that it will remember you.
GETTING DOWN TO THE NITTY GRITTY
The old woman rubbed the back of her neck and stretched in her chair then cast her eyes back toward the assortment of stones and bones in front of her. After studying them for a couple of seconds, she pushed her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose and looked at me directly. “You want that magic to work, baby?”
“Of course, I do,” I countered. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t even be considering it.”
“Well,” she said matter of factly, “you’re gonna have to get dirt from an open grave. You’re gonna have to...”
“An open grave?!” I screeched. “I’m not going to do that. I wouldn’t even dream of going there. I...”
“Uh-hunh.” She eyed me with such disgust that I wished I could disappear into thin air. I knew she thought I was nothing but a wuss and that the very idea made my blood run cold. She was right on both counts. But not for the reasons she imagined.
I leaned right into her personal space bubble, lifted my chin, and looked right into her eyes. “I don’t care what you think,” I said with equal disgust. “I know perfectly well what’ll happen if I try something like that. There I’ll be on my hands and knees, leaning over that grave, when suddenly, without any provocation whatsoever, I’ll lose my balance and fall. And nothing—not love nor magic nor the Gods, Themselves—can make me put myself in that position.”
“Figured as much,” she said with a shrug, her voice softening, “but ain’t nothin’ stronger. Ain’t nothin’ gonna do the job any quicker. Ain’t nothin’...”
“That may be. But I won’t do it. I’ll never claw my way out of that hole if I fall. I’ll never...”
A wave of her hand stopped me in mid-sentence. “’Course you can always get dirt from the murdered or hanged and hope for the best, but if I was you, baby, I’d...” Her voice trailed off, and she turned her attention back to the objects in front of her.
“You’d what?”
“Nothin’, baby. Nothin’ at all. I’m just sayin’ it’s the best there is. No matter what it is that’s ailin’ you.”
What sort of dirt you gather—and from which graves or establishments you gather it—depends solely on your intention and what you’re comfortable with. Suffice it to say that I’ve never gleaned dirt from an open grave, no matter how strong it was or who thought I should. For one thing, I’m still way too clumsy for that sort of operation. And I’m not quite ready for that intimate of a relationship with the resident dead.
For another though, unless you’re dealing with a privately owned family cemetery, t
here simply isn’t time to gather the dirt in question. Interment begins about twenty minutes after the service or just as soon as everybody’s been shooed from the property, with fill-in commencing immediately after. So, unless you’re related to the deceased—and don’t care what the rest of your family thinks as you pull back the funeral carpet and reach under the casket with your baggie—it’s a little more difficult to obtain this sort of dirt now than it was in years past.
Still, I’m not discounting its power. The old woman who first suggested I use it had years of experience in the field. And if I hadn’t been so worried back then that I’d slip and fall into that hole myself, I might be able to give you a first-hand accounting. What I can tell you, though, is this. She was absolutely right about dirt taken from the murdered and executed. It’s very powerful stuff. And I’ve never had it fail me. The same is true of old dirt, and when seeking a collection source, I find that the older the grave is, the better.
But what about dirt from other graves? Does it work well too? Absolutely! And for your convenience, a brief listing of the types I’ve found helpful and the purposes for which I think they’re most useful follows below. Please note that this list is not in any way complete and is meant to be used as a guideline only. As you work with graveyard dirt, follow your own instincts, and you can’t go wrong.
Utterly Wicked: Curses, Hexes & Other Unsavory Notions Page 4
