“So Taborlin fell, but he did not despair. For he knew the name of the wind, and so the wind obeyed him. He spoke to the wind and it cradled and caressed him.”
It was no coincidence that I read Patrick Rothfuss’ The Name of the Wind shortly before I met the Professor who told me they could control the weather.
The words of the book landed in me like they’d kicked down a door to memories I didn’t know I had. This was fiction, fantasy even, but it made sense to me like fact. It’s a longstanding theme that knowing the name of something allows you to control it, so something I probably should have brushed past, set a few embers simmering.
I’d spent a childhood steeped in as much magic as possible. I was rubbing 50p’s like in The Queen’s Nose, wiggling my nose like Matilda, writing spells and making potions. I walked, nose in book like Belle, down streets not too far from where Tolkien was a child. The pages of The Hobbit, Terry Pratchett and Sexing the Cherry filled my imagination with magical ideas, and the ability to find the magic in everyday. And, eventually, like all children, at some point these magical stories stopped leaping from the page and infusing my every day, and they became just that: stories.
When I started exploring African Traditional Religions as a young adult, the embers of all this magical interest popped a flame. I’d decided to explore how I would define myself, if Black British didn’t suffice, and this led me down a rabbit hole of discovery - who were my ancestors and what did they believe prior to colonialism and Christianity?
I characterise my specific area of interest as “African Traditional Religions”, not because it’s a good word for it, but as a holdover from the academic sphere which never fails to find one simple word for a wild and diverse experience, especially when the experience is a global majority one. The particular religions of the African continent relevant to my ancestry are also often categorised as “African Diasporic Religions” - more accurate in the sense that practice across the diaspora versus on the continent can be very different, but perhaps missing the point in that these traditions are largely more open to evolving with the lay of the land, or the times. When I think of the odu, the religious scripture of the Yoruba Ifa faith, it comes to mind that there are people who will have forgotten more of it than I may ever learn in my lifetime. So what how do I help people get a handle on my beliefs who may never have encountered them before?
First of all, I try to remain clear that I practice the religions of my lineage - so although I’ll say African Traditional Religions in passing, there are specific Caribbean, West African and American South traditions that I practice (among others). I spent a long time getting that straight in my head, as a pretty diasporic kid, there are multiple threads that interweave - converging and diverging on separate areas.
Second, I try to stick to a few areas of convergence. In running Ritual Excel, a 6-part series for Afro/Diasporic people to get coaching and therapeutic style support in a group setting with Black ancestral practices infused, we centred much work on the dikenga or Congo (Kongo) Cosmogram, which offers a 5D cyclical conception of life and time - rather than a western linear one - among other things.
Third, I emphasise that these religions are nature based. “If in doubt, look to nature” I was told by an esteemed elder as I asked how to navigate finding community in these (sometimes ghetto) online streets. Like any place where people can take power, there are plenty of scammers online fronting as priests who can do something special, or DMing people offering readings, or other such heistery. Even harder to spot for the unsuspecting are those following their ego, as they will work hard to build a reputation that can fool even the most discerning because that’s what their ego likes.
“If in doubt, look to nature” was a reminder to always check in with the data that the universe has actually provided for you to see. Nature is all around us. It’s also a reminder not to let too much of your own power get away from you. Whilst their is order, structure and eldership, definite ways you pay your dues, none of this negates your direct connection to divinity, within and without you, and that before you go paying for divinations or ceremonies, it worth going to nature to talk through a few things.
“If in doubt, look to nature” also reminds us that, the orisa for example, beings something like deities in the Yoruba tradition (there is one god, but different manifestations of that God) are closely linked with much natural phenomenon. Sango lighting, Oya hurricanes and high winds, Olokun the deepest reaches of the ocean etc…
And so, it came as little surprise when the Professor told me they told me they could control the rain. Between the book priming me, and the matter of fact look on her face, I couldn’t receive this information as anything less than obvious. Spiritual and intuitive gifts are developed fastest through necessity. I learnt how to read palms (and how to divine in other ways more widely) because I needed extra context to navigate the lack of congruence between how people acted and who they said they were and what they said they wanted. Rain being a crucial lifeline for agricultural societies it makes sense that someone would have figured out how to not let everyone starve for want of a little rain. I recently watched the Amazon Prime documentary Rainmakers which follows a team across Nigeria and Benin as they test people for such a skill. The team have questionable motives, and the outcomes are questionable but you can see when it works and understand the mechanics required to do so.
I realise, if you are used to pulling out a brolly, or getting soaked in a downpour the idea you could tell it to stop seems farcical (and I’ve yet to see something that spontaneously reactive). From what I’ve seen, there’s no denying the way it never seems to wash out certain events until the last stallholder has packed away, but what I’ve seen, before anyone has tried to control it, they’ve built a deep relationship with it. It seemed like magic to me when a friend I was out camping with told me it was going to rain shortly before it did. That wasn’t magic, she could just feel the change in air pressure. When I figured out the same, it seemed like magic to the uninitiated too. “Of course you can predict the weather” a friend chuckled sarcastically.
I’ve seen comments and heard anecdotally of more impressive stuff. Of the way the weather seems to move or change during specific prayers, after certain movements etc. If you’re within the community, or another tradition with a significant link to nature, you will have heard and seen your own things. I don’t intend to spill any secrets.
If you are wondering where to get started in a more mystical relationship with nature, I can say that everyone I know started with more observation. In a world that prioritises control, transaction and negotiation - simply being with nature is the way to open doors.