I’ve been reading a book called “The Good House” by Tananarive Due recently that is a fictional story about a Baka Loa (not 100% sure I’m saying that right) that took offense to a bokor (voodoo witch) woman’s pride and decided to snuff out her whole lineage. What struck me is the quote on page 419 that I’ve included below.

“When you have reached a place of spirits, your bones know it. You feel their company in the gentle call of the wind, in the laughter of the creek, in the silent conversations between the trees. I have been to many such places. Grandmère took me to bayou a few miles from our home as a child that was thick with spirits, harboring one in each water moccasin, in each dragonfly, in the fissured trunks of the saltbrush trees, in each lick of the marshy water, even in the whining mosquitoes. There, she introduced me to my forebears, calling their name, one by one, and although I could never see them, I knew they were embracing me.”

“The Good House” by Tananarive Due

I found this really interesting, as the way that she describes the spirits in her faith is very much the same experience that I have with the Fae. There are places in the forests that are just like this. The creatures and plants and topography is different, but the essence is the same as what is described above. This sense of rightness in the bones and touch of life in the air upon flesh are how I feel out where the liminal spaces are. And those spaces are the playground upon which I spend the large majority of my time with the Fae.

It was so uncanny to hear this described through the view of Voodoo and the Loa, and it made me wonder if there isn’t some sort of connection here. Perhaps a different language for the same thing… or a similarity that has gone unrealized.

I don’t have the answers in this, as I have very little knowledge of Voodoo and the Loa. But, it did raise some interesting questions to muse about.