Ritual: Cane Blessing
About three years ago I was headed into Washington, DC to have brunch with a friend. An emergency came up and they had to cancel, so I decided to use that time to explore some of my favorite museums. It was winter so there weren’t a lot of people, and I really enjoy having some of these spaces all to myself. A few hours into my day the pain in my leg was just too much to ignore - like I had been doing for years - so I found a bench at the Freer Gallery and grumpily called my husband.
“I think I need to buy a cane,” I mumbled.
As a child I was always pretty small, and then puberty hit and I grew into a 6’2” beast. Through a mix of genes and tending to an acre and a half in the Florida swamp I was generally a pretty strong guy through high school and college. This was something I took for granted because, as most able-bodied young folk, I imagined myself to be invincible. My early 20’s hit with a series of medical emergencies - shattered limbs and MRSA - that would trigger a long decade of declining mental and physical health.
I never expected to be rocking a cane in my mid-30’s, and yet here I am. I resisted it for a very long time out of a sense of pride, vanity, fear, and guilt. I’m too young! I would look so dumb! I don’t need it all the time, so I would just be faking! I would immediately be “old” and unattractive! But there I was, several long blocks from the nearest metro station, wondering how the hell I was supposed to hobble my way back home.
In the years since, I’ve come to appreciate my cane. I’m just as old as I would have been otherwise. I don’t look dumb, in fact I get compliments and it adds a certain sartorial flourish. And while I do struggle with the internalized ableism of “not needing it” I appreciate how knowing my limits and being proactive about using my cane helps to prevent severe pain and days like the one I spent limping around the museums.
I realized over the holiday break that a lot of my craft centers and celebrates my marginalized identity as a queer person but this was yet another space where I was distancing or ignoring another identity that is increasingly central to my world experiences: being a disabled person.
Below is something I’ve spent the last month thinking on and putting together, a ritual blessing for a cane. I thought a lot about what having a cane means for me and what it does and came up with some central ideas: stability, strength, ability. These are, I hope, reflected in the ritual below. My cane provides me with the ability to walk longer distances, and so I wanted to imbue it with the ability to keep me oriented towards my purpose. Disability is often seen as unnatural in our current society, so I ask for the blessings of the natural world to give strength - not just physical, but the spiritual fortitude to experience this world as a disabled person. Finally, work with Queer Ancestors is very much at the heart of my craft so it didn’t feel right not to include them in this. This ritual also asks for the blessing of these ancestors to provide the strength of one marginalized community to support another (especially two that are often cast to the fringes of society, and have so many intersections.) In the way my cane physically supports me it can also be a reminder of the way the queer community - past and present - can spiritually be a source of support, too.
What you will need:
A cane (yours, or maybe one you plan to gift)
Rose water
Soil or leaves
Feather
Water
Lavender sprigs
Cauldron or small container to hold charcoal and loose incense
Rosemary
Frankincense
Rose petals
White candle (if it is not already contained in a jar then make sure you have something that will catch the wax!)
While anointing the cane in rose water say:
May I never stray from my path, and may I never be lead astray.
While sprinkling the soil or leaves on the cane, passing the feather over it, and sprinkling it with water say:
May I find strength in the spirits of the land, the air, and the water.
While laying lavender sprigs over the cane say:
May I be supported by the Queer Ancestors and my living community.
Place the cauldron on one side of the cane, about midway along it’s length. Opposite it place a white candle.
Light the charcoal in the cauldron and place rosemary, frankincense and rose petals to burn. You may wish to use the feather to waft the smoke over the cane.
Light the white candle, imagining its light suffusing the cane to invigorate it and help seal the blessings you’ve for it. You may wish to pass the candle around the cane. Assuming it is practical and safe to do so, let the candle burn out. Otherwise, sit for a while reflection on what it means for you to bless this item - does this help you find strength or pride in a disability? Do you hope it will lend aid and comfort to a friend or loved one? When you feel called to, extinguish the candle.
