Almost five years ago, the youngest of my cousins beat all medical forecasts. After a promise, a name change, and a medical team that did everything possible to keep her alive, everyone in my family says that this girl is a miracle and that life has a beautiful future in store for her. This is not, however, the first nor the only promise that has been made in my family, and I’m included among those who have made them.
Growing up amid promises
When my cousin was in danger, my mother promised that if she was saved she would make a dinner in her honor and invite the Arab community of the city. My uncle and aunt – her parents – promised that the baby’s first long trip would be to Isnotú, in the Trujillo state, where the Sanctuary of José Gregorio Hernández is located. The spirit of this doctor has been a figure of devotion for many Venezuelans, and he was recently beatified by the Catholic Church, although previously he was a popular saint for the entire country.
Many candles in a darkened space [Pixabay]
When I told her story, I mentioned that one of my uncles promised to walk on his knees around the Umayyad Mosque, also known as the Great Mosque of Damascus, where the head of John the Baptist is located, if the ailments he had disappeared. He had already done several studies to find out what was wrong with him, because he got dizzy, his head ached, his chest hurt, and other discomforts, and he began to worry. Fortunately, he improved a lot after making the promise, which he fulfilled as soon as he made a trip to Syria.
I grew up listening to stories like these, and they always seemed such amazing experiences that I saw them as contemporary legends, distant events that were beyond my reach. While I was a child, they seemed like things that only adults could do, things that only they could understand. What could a child promise? What could I, who was in school, offer that was of value? Things would change over time.
My own promises
My last year of high school was tumultuous. 11 years of abuse and bullying in class were finally taking their toll: I faced an identity crisis, family problems, and invaluable friends turning their backs on me. I was about to miss the school year. I was going through severe depression, anxiety attacks, stress, panic, nightmares, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts; it was just a short time before I finally gave up on living.
I reacted at the last second. I had a crying spell, suddenly aware of what I had been about to do, and in the days that followed I made one of my first promises: If I passed the school year, I would practice traditional Wicca for a year and a day. It was the only thing I could think of – I had been reading about Wicca for a while on the internet, and didn’t ask for specific grades. I just wanted everything to be okay.
I don’t remember many details from that time, or many good ones, to be more exact. Most of that school year was a nonstop nightmare for many reasons, but in the end I was able to graduate. I was always lousy at numbers, and suddenly I had to get the maximum grade to pass physics, chemistry, and math. But I somehow made the bare minimum necessary to graduate.
Years ago I traveled to Colombia for a few months, and the situation in the country was obviously not the best. I was in what we know as carrito por puesto (literally, little car by seat in Spanish), cars in poor conditions with a certain route and that charge a specific rate per passenger. I took one with several Venezuelans on the Colombian border to return home, and we were stranded in the Guajira Peninsula in the middle of the journey.
I remember the scene perfectly. The engine didn’t work anymore. We had to push the car and wait for someone to tow us to a nearby garage. It was a little after midday. My cell phone did not work, and no one had a telephone line. I had eaten very badly during the trip, I had almost no money, and I had no means of communication. The hours passed.
One, two, three, four hours went slowly, and the car did not work. I tried my best not to lose my cool, but there comes a point where despair wins. I remembered the promise I made in high school, and decided to do it one more time. I remember the exact words I thought: “If I come home today, I will not eat anything sweet or sugary for four months from the moment I walk through my door.” Fifteen minutes later, we were on our way to Venezuela. Within an hour, I was with my aunt, and then I returned home.
A single candle in front of a blurred field of lights [Pixabay]
I recently had a not-so-pleasant experience, and I turned to a promise again. My brother convulsed and injured his shoulder. We learned a week later that he had dislocated and fractured it, and needed surgery as soon as possible. It was just him and me, with no one else by our side. I stayed as calm as I could while I was next to him, but I was so nervous that when he didn’t see me he would start crying, wondering what to do. A promise was my best option. “If my brother comes out of the surgery perfectly and without any problem, I will not eat chocolate for a month.”
I have eaten chocolates by mistake, when I’m accompanied by friends or family – but I’m quick to apologize and keep my word as much as I can.
How does it work?
A friend recently asked me how promises are made: do you have to light a candle? Do you have to say something specific?
I explained that it really is very simple. We have to decide two things: what we want to happen, and what we are going to do after it happens (if it does happen, that is – there are no guarantees of anything.)
The idea is to offer something that is not easy to fulfill, something that implies a challenge, because there is the power. It is not necessary to promise impossibles, such as traveling to another country in a certain time, but pick something that is difficult to do. Those who know me know that I’m a lover of sweets, bordering on addiction, and even more so of chocolate.
There is also a formula to follow. For example, “I will not eat apples until I have a job” is a promise based on the idea that it is going to happen, and it will eventually happen, but the point is that we want it to happen soon. It is necessary to reformulate the statement so that it becomes, “if in a month I get a stable job that allows me to live comfortably, I will stop eating apples for a month.” Basically, the statement should follow a format of, “if this happens at this time, I will do/stop doing this for this time.”
Now, the most important question: to whom are these promises made? Whoever we have in mind. I make them to the universe, the cosmos, divine energy, and similar names. I try not to mention specific names because I feel more comfortable that way.
Two hands holding a burning candle [Pixabay]
Obviously I have made more promises than these, and some have been harsh, even painful, and I have broken my word more than once. But I rectify as much as I can, try to be as honest as I can, and I always see results. If I fail once, I add one more day to my promise.
Making these vows all the time is not a good idea either. They are a last resort, an offering or sacrifice for desperate situations, or when a radical change is really needed, when something really needs to happen. And I plan to use them whenever they are needed.
The Wild Hunt always welcomes guest submissions. Please send pitches to eric@wildhunt.org.
The views and opinions expressed by our diverse panel of columnists and guest writers represent the many diverging perspectives held within the global Pagan, Heathen and polytheist communities, but do not necessarily reflect the views of The Wild Hunt Inc. or its management.
The Wild Hunt is not responsible for links to external content.
To join a conversation on this post:
Visit our The Wild Hunt subreddit! Point your favorite browser to https://www.reddit.com/r/The_Wild_Hunt_News/, then click “JOIN”. Make sure to click the bell, too, to be notified of new articles posted to our subreddit.