Otherkin – a person whose spirit or essence belongs to a species other than human, to include mythical beasts, elves, and alien races.

Therian – an Otherkin person whose spirit or essence specifically belongs to a non-human species that exists or has existed on Earth

Reasons and theories on why Otherkins and Therians occur:

- Species dismorphia, where one disassociates with one’s true species (human) and associates with another

- Totemism taken too far, where the person over-connects to their totem animal and begins to have unconscious shifts (mental and spiritual) as they occassionally merge

- a Higher Power choses to mix in spirits from other realms and species in order to add new lessons and guidance from those people

- a spirit that has lived recently as an animal is now a human (reincarnation) and the past life is sticking to its essence, making minor mental and spiritual shifts occur

- two spirits (one human and one other) are sharing a body, causing mental and spiritual shifts between the two

- two spirits melded before entering a person’s body, like yin and yang, so occassionally aspects of one or the other will present themselves in shifts

My theory, broken into (hopefully) easily-digested pieces:

The human species is expanding rapidly each year, far beyond any previous popullation numbers. Where do all these new human souls come from? The Divine is infinite, but even with reincarnation you have the problem of there being more humans than the previous number of souls available. The Divine could be making new souls… but!

Meanwhile, in the animal kingdom… many species are endangered or extinct. These souls would be shelved, if they were only allowed to be that one species, because if there are no new bodies to house them, they can’t be reborn.

Many of those species are common among the therian community.

My personal reincarnation belief is that we aren’t reborn as a bug one life, a human the next; I believe we’re generally moving up in awareness, with humans being the most conscious of creatures on this planet. While I agree that animals are smarter and more connected/aware of the Earth and balance than us in many cases, they aren’t at the same level of mental development (most species don’t make art, invent complex things, etc.).

That said, I think the gods have a smart recycling plan. Those spirits that were animals and can’t be reborn as such again are being born human. They have lessons learned as animals that can be taught to mankind.

Maybe enough therian spirits, self-aware or not, can lead to an environmental change through their intense understanding of the need to protect our home, Earth. Maybe there are thousands, or millions, more therians than you find online… maybe they sit around unaware of their unique nature.

I think the therians who do claim their therian side are just more aware. Many of them practice or have practiced some form of self-enlightening spirituality. I believe there are many unaware therians running around, probably many of the people drawn to environmental movements, earth-based spirituality, and the like. And I believe that some species (say, the bee) may not have been aware enough as the animal to carry over shifts or personality quirks from their life as such.

Imagine, though. A bee or an ant, born human. Most bees are worker bees. Most people are worker people, doing the smaller tasks that keep the bigger things running. Example, a night stocker at Walmart restocks the shelves, a truck driver transports those items to the store from a warehouse, a warehouse worker prepares an order for a store, a manager oversees the requisition orders for various stores, and so on.

I got off topic. Overall, though, my theory is that many of us Earth-loving people are being born with spirits who have never lived as a human before. Some of us are more aware than others, through spiritual sensitivity and species; others are less aware, due to lack of sensitivity or to a species that has little mental awareness as individuals with personalities (i.e. bees, ants).

I also believe that all of the other theories are valid. For Otherkin elves and dragons and such, perhaps those spiritual beings are being born human to bring their knowledge and energies into the Earth living experience. Otherkin are more complicated, as a vampire Otherkin isn’t so much a spirit trapped in a different body as a person with non-human needs and abilities.

NOTE: I stumbled onto therianthropy by accident in 2009. I was researching some strange feelings and energies I’d been experiencing off and on; during my searches I found someone describing a mental shift as a therian, and it matched some of what I’d been through. I resisted accepting that, because it was even beyond the average pagan weirdness. Last year, in studying totem animals with my coven, I found myself redrawn to the therian research I’d done. In meditation and random spiritual daydreaming (my favorite way to get “ah ha!” moments), I discovered I’m a snow leopard therian. I’m now wise enough to accept that, weird or not, as a part of my spiritual self. Accepting it has been a beautiful and interesting lesson so far…

…until some strange, 67-year-old woman asked if she could join me.

Dark and wrinkled like a raisin, she smelled like typical grandma-smell does. She looked frumpy and frail as she lowered herself in a chair next to me. Wanting to avoid conversation, I looked around the store as I ate my bagel in silence. Essentially, I pretended she wasn’t there.

Then she started talking.

At first, she asked simple questions. How about this heat? Do you think they have any blueberry bagels left? I made noncommittal noises and tried to politely be left alone, but then she started to tell me about her day. About her visit to the old folks’ home to see some friends. About her recent hospital trip and a new spot on her lungs and heart. About her eleven children, the youngest as old as my mother. About her job as a substitute teacher, and her fears about retirement. As her story unfolded, I found myself turning to face her, my interest sincerely peaked by her ramblings.

I could feel what she felt. Her joy at being a great grandmother, many times over. Her frustration with the youth of today, and their parents. Her fear about not being able to pay her rent, especially if she retired. We shared. I told her about my experiences working at Hastings, about my hopes for my future children, about appreciating the opportunities I had from being an Armybrat while disliking the moves (just like her children). As we sat and talked, our conversation spun over a vast range of topics. Mostly, I let an old woman use my ear to ease a little of the loneliness she feels when she goes home to watch old westerns by herself.

Two hours passed unnoticed.

She’s older than my grandmother, black, Christian in a way that warms the heart, and deeply southern. I’m a young white girl from the West coast who dances under the full moon each month. When she left, I realized that we never exchanged names. We shared laughter and fears, hopes and angers. In a way, we both had an unvoiced need for a kind ear… and we ended up answering each other’s need at that little, rickety cafe table. I find myself both awed and humbled by the connection I found with a woman who I could be no different from unless she were born on Mars. I thank the Gods for the opportunity to Listen, fully and truly.

Vampirism. There are vampires that drink blood, who claim to have a physical need for the energies found in it. There are some that drink blood and take those energies for rituals of worship and empowerment. There are psychic vampires, both those that accidentally take energy and those who intentionally do so (with and without permission). Look up vampirism, dig under Anne Rice and Twilight, and there are infinite layers to the onion.

What intrigues me is the idea of psychic vampirism out of necessity. It’s said that some people fail to produce or procure the natural levels of energy most are able to each day. To compensate, these people absorb energy from people (and things) around them, filling in the empty space of their energy meters. Most of the stories I’ve heard of psychic vampires involve that “friend” that just brings you do and wears you out every time you talk; it’s never something nice.

That said, I find myself examining, er, myself. Even as a horribly shy little girl, I needed to be around people. I didn’t need to interact; I just needed to “feel” that someone was around. I had no security issues, as my mom was always home and my brother close enough in age to be my regular playmate. But as I’ve grown, I’ve found that I recognize distinct changes to my being when I’m completely alone.

When I’m alone: I have trouble sleeping, I get frazzled easily, I get listless and feel dull and lifeless, I can’t focus as well on things I normally excel at, I feel hollow, I’m prone to mood swings more easily, and so on.

When I’m around strangers or friends, this changes. If someone is within, say, 100 feet of me, it all balances out. I sleep just fine alone, if someone is in the house with me; I don’t have to hear them or see them at all, they just have to be around. Sitting in a room of strangers is soothing, the noisier, the better. I find focus and drive when someone’s within the same room, regardless of the task I’m using said focus/drive on. With my closest friends and family, I feel filled to the brim and soothed at the same time. I feel snuggly and soft and warm. And I can listen to my inner voice best when there are distractions, believe it or not.

Now, part of me recognizes that all of this can be associated with a neediness or dependency upon others. Maybe seeing a shrink would be your first suggestion. But I’m not sure if I’m getting the feelings across: I don’t feel lonely. It’s not “oh, I’m alone and sad now”. These feelings come and go without triggers or conscious recognition of my aloneness. That’s the fact that makes me go hmmmmmmm…

I’ve been researching vampirism (as a religion and spiritual practice) for another comparative theology blog. And as I read about psychic vampires and some reasons/methods out there… I just wonder, a little bit. Do I absorb something from being in a crowd that fills those holes? Is it something to do with my personal energy levels and imbalances? This is a thought exercise, not a proclamation of “I am a vampire, muuahaha!” It’s something to look at in the next couple weeks, paying attention to mood changes alone and with others, noticing what does and doesn’t shift. I’m really weird enough without adding Psychic Vampire to the list of quirks.

What are your thoughts on vampirism? As a spirituality? As a condition?

EDIT: After finding several branches of spiritual and conditional vampirism, I’ve come to believe that anyone and everyone could be considered vampiric at some level. We may not require energy from others, but we are all affected (at least subconsciously) by the energies of those around us. And when we’re down, maybe we do bring in some of the topical energy from those who improve our moods. Hmm…

That said, I think it’s far too easy to fall into the same trap with your own judgments.

Christians are judgmental. They base their entire moral structure on ancient (and often interpreted-as-needed) scriptures, then proceed to force it down everyone else’s throats as The Way to Be. They take no personal responsibility for any of their actions; either the Devil made them do it, or they confess and ask for forgiveness to make all well again. They are often hypocrites, saying one thing and doing another.

Generalizations S-U-C-K. Quit nodding. You’re about to feel bad for agreeing with any of that.

Christians are as varied in belief and practice as pagans are, if you take even a moment to look and even ask. This is where it helps to not just consider that conversation you had with the man who said you were going to hell because he saw your pentacle necklace; I’d like you to think of the non-confrontational examples of Christians you’ve met. If you don’t have any, find some! Many of them try to follow some pretty awesome teachings: do unto others as you would have done unto yourself, let he who is without sin cast the first stone, turn the other cheek, thou shalt not kill, love thy brother (actually, I happen to love the quote “love is gently, love is kind” from the Bible). Christianity is actually a beautiful religion, in many MANY ways. Most Christians aren’t religious enough to feel a need to even discuss their religion with others, unless the topic is brought up; they don’t often preach at anyone. Society teaches us (unfortunately) that someone else is always to blame; this isn’t a failing of Christian teachings, but a failing of the society as a whole. And hypocrisy is EVERYWHERE, even in pagan circles. *gasp*

I’ve watched pagans be judgmental. Not just of Christians, but of each other! They have their path, tradition, or branch of paganism, and anyone who dares approach it without invitation is scoffed at. For example, some traditional Wiccans (i.e. those in branches of the path that trace themselves back to its start with Gerald Gardner) will slap a pagan silly for even thinking of themselves and the word “Wiccan” in the same sentence. Or a Druid might snear at a circle that’s calling deities from their base culture.

It’s sad. Many pagans are willing to accept personal responsibility for their magickal actions, but their mundane lives stand as a separate entity. Harming none only applies to hexes, not to treating your neighbors with kindness while their dogs keep shitting in your yard. We are sometimes hypocrites, too.

This whole thought-train came from watching my circle discuss ethics. Our tradition embraces “Equal Truths, Equal Magicks”, that there is validity in EVERY path, not just the ones we like. And yet I watched us, new and old alike, talk about how Christian morality is inferior compared to pagan ethics. I listened to a discussion of morality and ethics (neither of which necessarily belonging to ANY spirituality) fall apart into a chorus of comments on the failures of Christianity and the intelligence of pagans for taking responsibility for their actions.

I’d like to say that maybe we should all take responsbility for failing our own tradition’s guidelines. I take personal responsibility for not speaking up, even as I sat there and listened and disagreed.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this: there is beauty and simplicity in following a structure of moral behavior, just as there is a striking freedom and joy in following a path of personal ethics. No one path is good for everyone, and that applies to understanding right/wrong decisions as well. We aren’t all built to handle the pressure of being held accountable for every thought, word, and deed; some would break under the strain. Some of us are wired to a natural tendency to refuse to follow a rule without an explanation as to why it is so. Others are born with a need for security and structure, for rules and regulations to help guide the way. Neither is better. Remember that.

Now the fun part. Imagine that someone, years from now, were to find our covenstead and records of what we did today, but no descriptions as to why…

This tribe of Texans had a complex social structure. They would gather beneath a large tepee, finding repose in cloth seats of multiple hues. The tribal people would pour themselves a mint-based infusion; we are unsure of the tea’s purpose, as no hallucinogenic properties have been found. What has been most fascinating about the study of this tribe is their use of ground bark from a cinnamon tree. While not native to the Texas region, the cinnamon was a common spice in the American food culture. We postulate that it was associated with the constant heat of Texas. The peoples of this area often applied the powdered bark to their feet and meeting places, leading to the common nickname of the “Bark-footed Tribe”. It is said that the purpose may have been to appease the “fire spirits” that caused the hot temperatures. Other scholars believe the Bark-footed were attempting to show, though symbolism, their tribal connectivity and willingness to “walk through fire” for one another (this fire symbolized, again, just the spiciness of the bark and its essential oils). The site in what was once called Killeen contains the most complete picture of the Bark-footed culture.

Now doesn’t that make you think of the anthropological inferences found in our history books? We often assume a lot into the meanings of what we find in locations where tribes or other cultures once lived and traveled. We see what we want to see. Pagans do this often, as do other groups. We look at a cave painting of a curvy woman or a craving of a pregnant female… and we assume goddess worship. What’s to say that some fool didn’t have a pregnant mate? Maybe he got creatively inspired and wanted an image of her. Or maybe it was a rite of passage image, made by the women of a tribe to commiserate a female’s first pregnancy. Maybe somebody had a fat-girl fetish, in a time when life was far too tough for anyone to really get fat from overeating; perhaps seeing a pregnant girl tickled someone’s fancy, and the carvings and pictures were simply prehistoric porn. Who are we to say what the original people really meant to do? We weren’t there.

It’s fun to speculate, though, isn’t it?

…but the only variable you have control over it yourself. All those other people involved, from your closest friends and family to the strangers you meet along the way…

…they all have the potential to ruin even the best-laid plans. It’s a heavy weight sometimes, making plans. I can think of things I’d like to have, or do, or be…

…but they require someone else’s cooperation. I’m not sure of myself most of the time, no matter what front I display to the world. It’s hard to get the gumption to actually make an offer, or to ask for assistance that I can never repay. And the wait for a decision, a yes or no to my request, is excruciating.

Then there’s the handful of times I find myself standing on someone else’s path, on their way from point A to point B. The way is clear to both of us, but for some reason my opinion matters. I become an accidental fork-in-the-road, unwittingly transforming into a reason to do (or not do) something. It’s terrifying, to find yourself in that kind of position…

…to know that, for one small moment, you have more influence on that person’s life than they do. Or at least an equal amount of influence.

I’ve found myself facing a lot of uncomfortable thoughts these days. Keep in mind that “uncomfortable” doesn’t necessarily equate with “bad”…

…they’re simply things I would rather avoid, or plans I can’t imagine working out smoothly. Human nature, and our interconnected lives, prevent anything from occurring in the “most logical” way. Call it cowardice, but I’d much rather live in the moment…

…than speak of my hopes and dreams for the future. In the moment, I can make decisions as though riding though rapids, steering myself around boulders and over rough waters as they come.

For now, I think that’s what I need. Tomorrow will just have to wait and see.

Learning about being a Lover

• Step One: The Universe, in its infinite wisdom, places you with a perfect match. This is the person who you instinctively recognize as necessary in your life, like air for breathing.
• Step Two: The Universe, determined to coax personal growth from you, has you fall in love with your same-sex best friend. While this may seem like a cosmic joke, it’s a sincere attempt to open your eyes to new facts about yourself.
• Step Three: You research polyamory, sacred sexuality, and similar topics in an effort to understand your new outlook. Your partner from Step One remains open and supportive in this process.
• Step Three: As you settle into this new understanding of your sexuality, the Universe sees another opportunity for self-improvement. Thus, a second opposite-sex partner comes into the picture. This is a hard sell, as it goes most directly against your upbringing. Again, your Step One partner provides the support and unconditional love needed for you to explore this new development.
• Step Four: You learn to appreciate the humor in the Universe’s lessons and teaching methods. You accept that sometimes “going with the flow” is all you can do. And you love, deeply.

This has been my life, for the past six months. I’ve gone from being the straight, monogamous little girl everyone is raised to be… to being a bisexual, polyamorous woman learning to appreciate love in all its forms. The Universe has challenged me, pushing and prodding me with each step. And I have to admit, I’m grateful. The amount of positive change and growth has SO outweighed the cost that I find it impossibly hard to believe the Universe waited so long… but at the same time, I believe that things happen in their own time, at their own pace, for their own reasons.

I am blessed with Love. May you also be blessed.

With “Dark-Hearted”, I picked through a couple hundred poems for the ones I felt held the most, well, darkness. And they were all wrung from me tirelessly by my muse (thanks, hun) over time. But having been there and done that, there weren’t any ties left to those poems. I can read “Tainted Angel” without the anguish I had when I wrote it, or “Whore” without the self-hate that was there at the time. While I can remember the feelings, they’re just that: memories.

But with current poems, I’ve come to realize that the strings connecting them to me are still there, uncut. From silly or sappy to hot or heavy, all of the current snippets I’ve written are still fresh and new in my mind/heart/soul. Unlike my “Dark-Hearted” poems, these are preciously and precariously tied to me, protected because they represent current wounds and wants and needs.

It’s much harder to give someone a poem that’s still fresh. With the old ones, if I don’t have an explanation to give, I can shrug them off as “teen angst” or “a phase”. But with the newest ones… the emotions they represent and the muse that proded me into writing them are still very much alive and a part of me. So if someone reads these new poems and says “WTF?”, not having an answer isn’t as simple to blow off.

Then there’s the poet vs muse dynamic.

Share it.
I don’t want to.
Do it anyway, it’ll be good for you.
People will look at me weird.
They already do, so what?
It could make things awkward.
And that’s new how?
God, you’re so pushy!
And you love me for it!

Friggin’ muse. She’s laughing at me. Gotta go write another poem. Sheesh.