On Clay, Doors, and Faeries: The Tools I Received Before I Was Ready

Today is kind of a weird day, spiritually speaking. If you know me well, you may be somewhat aware that I've recently rediscovered my one-time interest in divination. Only it's different now that I'm older. 

When I was younger, I would discover interests, sometimes even acquire tools... and then not really do anything about them. Younger Me always felt like she was in some weird holding pattern. Like it wasn't time yet to really dig into a lot of the things that piqued her interest. Part of that had to do with the fact that I was too busy processing trauma to focus on much else. The rest really did just feel like me... waiting for something I couldn't quite identify. 

At my current age, I see things much differently. 

It's taken me most of my 49-year life to reach the same emotional maturity level most people were at by the time they were 30 or 35. So, I fully realize I don't have all the time in the world. I know that if I want to learn something, do something, or dive really deeply into something interesting, I need to do it now.

So, I got back into divination a while back, acquired some new tools, and started reading with them daily in the mornings to help set intentions for my day. I've also made a real effort to really learn the systems I've adopted and integrate them into my daily life, and it's been a game-changer. 

But I also have this treasure box of old divination systems and oracle decks that I acquired way back in the '90s when I was still really young. I hadn't felt much need to open that box at my current age and reintegrate anything in it, as I thought of those items as belonging to someone else –– someone I just wasn't anymore. 

Then last night, I dreamed I opened the box

In the dream, I took out a couple of select items, and I started to use them again. When I woke up, following suit in real life felt like the right way to start my morning, so I did that.

Opening that box and taking things out of it with the intention of loving them and using them again felt so strange. On one level, it really did feel like I was touching someone else's things –– maybe someone who had passed away a long time ago. But on another, I recognized these tools as old friends of mine that I hadn't seen in eons:

• A clay/pottery rune set from the '90s that was my very first divination system. The box was pretty beaten up, as I'd actually used this set a fair amount. And the burlap bag that held the runes had a mysterious stain on it, likely just from age. But the runes and guidebook by Horik Svensson were just as I remembered them and in pristine condition.
• An ancient Egypt-inspired oracle deck called The Book of Doors. I remember being deeply intrigued by this deck, but not using it much, as it was way too complex for me at that age. It is, however, right in line with where I am now.
• An oracle deck called The Faeries' Oracle, inspired by the artwork of Brian Froud, someone who was (and still is) a huge artistic and creative influence on me. It was never officially used, as I acquired it shortly before moving cross-country and leaving it behind.

So I washed the burlap bag by hand, nervous about the stain but unwilling to throw it away. And I did my morning reading with a combination of cards from The Book of Doors and The Faeries' Oracle. It was such a strange feeling, starting my day with these relics from my own past. But it also felt like reconnecting with something valuable that I thought had been lost to time and age.

It felt like a timequake

I don’t know how else to describe it. The experience of opening the box, holding those old tools, and actually using a couple of them created a kind of quiet spiritual tremor in me. A strange awareness that the past hadn’t disappeared after all. It had just been waiting.

Seeing those tools again reminded me of how long ago my youth really was. How many years had passed since I first received these items and considered the possibilities. How the world I found them in no longer exists. These systems are so old, many of them are completely out of print now. Artifacts of a magical landscape that’s changed significantly since.

I wouldn't be able to acquire these same tools today if I were looking for them. Not unless I was willing to track them down on eBay or something. Yet, the fact that they'd been protected in the treasure box meant they were in excellent condition –– almost like new.

I think I received these tools early

Very early. I think I was meant to receive them before I was ready, and I was also meant to leave them largely untouched at the time. That was the only way to get them while they still existed. 

At the time, I didn’t understand them, especially the complex, highly esoteric Book of Doors. But I also didn’t have the spiritual foundation I have today to put them to good use or really benefit from them. I didn’t know how to listen to them. But I was drawn to them, I knew they mattered, and I stored them in a container that was capable of actually protecting them.

That’s what gets me about all this. The recognition. That even at 19, or 21, or 23, I was collecting pieces of a puzzle I wouldn’t know how to assemble for another couple of decades. It helped with the grief I've also been feeling over staying so disconnected from this part of myself for so long. 

This isn't about returning to who I was

It’s about reintegrating the parts of her that were right. The parts that already knew, even if she couldn’t prove it yet. The part who picked up the runes, or held the oracle cards in her hands, and felt the pulse of something ancient. She didn’t miss the mark. She wasn’t being dramatic or lazy. She was just early. And now I can finish what she started.

These tools waited. Quietly. Without resentment. Without demands. They lived in an old wooden treasure box in a house I often feel trapped in. And when the time was right, they stirred. A couple of them showed up in a dream, and I listened. 

Maybe that’s the takeaway –– that something coming from the past doesn’t necessarily mean it belongs to the past. Some things wait for us to grow into them. Some tools are given early because we need time to recognize them for what they are. And some doors don’t open until we come back with the right eyes.