Home of the Spirits, the ideology of the Spirit Vessel spans
countless faiths – and rightly so, for it is an “instrument” matched by few in
the witch’s arsenal. The Spirit Vessel exists for a number of reasons: it is a
grounder – a fetish that binds spirit to our physical plane and builds a bridge
between worlds, but – more than that – it is a home, an abode in which the
spirit energy dwells. Some are used to trap and harness the energy of the given
spirit – so that it may be employed to do practitioner’s bidding, but others
exist to house that sacred energy – not with entrapment, but with respect. That
is not to say the former is not respectful, only that voluntary bonds exists as
oath and agreement. It is a symbiotic, mutual source of power – a hearth by
which to draw the force of the arcane. One that bonds both parties. In this
aspect, I refer to the Higher Spirits – Gods, the Messengers, and Liminals,
though vessels can be employed with equal success to the Dead – specifically ancestors,
as a way to draw from the ancestral power – often relying on blood and earth.

Given the vast differences from path to path, I bring a
stripped set of instructions: general principles that can be built upon to
specialize the vessel for your “camino.”

Begin with the Vessel.
What this vessel is depends heavily on both tradition and personal tastes.
Possibilities are endless, though cauldrons, ceramic vases, wide-mouthed jugs
or basins, even jars can all be utilized effectively. For most, I prefer an
opaque, lidded vessel – though for my Spirit Cauldron dedicated to Rosa
Caveira, I used a non-lidded cauldron (go figure). This is in line with her
fiery energy which lends itself well to iron and sulfur – both of which are
present.

One of the most important steps (and one often glossed over)
is to treat the Vessel. For my
cauldron, I bathed it in high proof alcohol and oils and set it alight. Given
its dedication to Rosa Caveira, I did this in her Land – the Cemetery. I also
lined the inside of mine with graveyard dirt, which I mixed with the same
alcohol (along with flammable oils) and sculpted up the walls, then fired again
to create a ceramic-like liner (in part to prevent rust – as iron will readily
do so).

After treatment has commenced, it is time to bless and bond the Vessel – which can
be as simple or as intricate as you wish it to be. While it was still alight
(and since I went heavy handed on the oils, it stayed lit for quite some time)
I danced with it in the graveyard. Spinning this flaming cauldron and singing
joyfully to the spirits and My Keeper. I explained that this home was forged in
her name, gateway between worlds, and a seat for her energy. I drizzled it with
rose oils steeped with Herbs of the Dead and my own blood to “seal the deal.”

If that wasn’t fun enough, the last portion consists of Decoration
– a term I use loosely, as these same “decorations” will undoubtedly serve a
purpose. I filled mine with herbs, sulfur, curios, all of which corresponding
to her. Every now and again, I’ll take some of the permanent items out and set
the offerings alight. As is forged in fire, so must return. After which, I
return the permanent items and place it back beneath my miniature terreiro –
which then constantly draws from its energy.

As aforementioned, this general process can be employed for
any number of spirits and traditions – even those without a vessel-history. In
a sense, it can be equated in part to an altar – as I leave offerings therein
and use it as a source of power to draw from. However, given its nature, it can
be packed around with me for particularly powerful rituals on the go – which is
a particularly useful facet. I’ve also been known to feed any troublesome
spirits or energies to it, wherein they may be devoured and
purified/concentrated. It is very important to “feed” the vessel, for – as I
said – it is a mutual relationship. If you take, it is only right that you
return – lest you be cut off from its power.