The Tar of Darkness
Tar oozes slowly, a thick substance that clings to everything it touches.
I’ve always described black/dark magic as the consistency of tar as it clings to everything it touches. The smell of death and rotten meat, mixed in to heat up like laid asphalt on a hot summer day.
Not something most people would want to walk towards or in, but your girl does. Or that’s how I had to categorize my life to make some sense out of it.
Somehow, along this way of life, I’ve found myself attracting the darkest and deepest attachments of demonic beings to leaders. Dark leaders older than Jesus himself with legions of followers.
The kind that infiltrates your lives through the invisible walls of our human existence. I write this as I am coming out of a dark hole, once again, back into my human body. To tell a story of a dark leader from the depths of hell in Haiti.
To meet something or someone of this nature requires skill and courage. A sense of respect for each other’s roles because there are some entities and attachments I would have to go in with guns blazing. Yet, this meeting was different. In the last ten years, I’ve only had a handful of encounters similar to this.
From magia nero, black magic in Southern Italy, to Magji e zezë, black magic in Kosovo, my feet have sunk into the rich roots of practices associated with malevolent supernatural forces to walk through the thickness of life. And made it through.
— — — —
She came to me through a window, sunken behind a glass screen. Letting people in emotionally seemed easy enough, though we all had to take a number. This time though, she took a number from my desk.
As we introduced ourselves, I couldn’t help but feel the tension in my body as the visions I had of her picked up. One of two things were happening, either she was one of those people who wanted to send me harm or something was hurting her.
I took the chance because the worst thing that could have happened was that I would close our call and refund her money back.
She was older than my mother, graceful, alive, and smiling. I immediately dove in as she spoke, swimming through the black tar of her existence. “I realized that no matter how much effort I put into transforming it for the better, there was a level of success I could never reach in areas such as health, finances, and creativity,” she said.
The screams echoed as she spoke. A banshee scream. Visions of blood and darkness flooded me as I told her what I saw. She quietly agreed as the resonance of my words penetrated her lineage. It wasn’t her who wanted to harm me, but the darkness flowing through her veins.
“It will take me three sessions,” I told her. “For what?” she asked.
“To free you from the chains that bound you. Five thousand years of dark magic, familial ties, broken in three sessions,” I responded.
Question was, could I do it?
Swimming through black magic tar would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, but in that moment for her, a woman older than my mother, I became one with the tar. Yes, if anyone could do it, it would be me, I told myself as my elegant movements defied the very nature of the substance. One month of continuous fluidity was agreed upon, three face-to-face shamanic ceremonial sessions.
Tar, usually resistant, became light and airy as I glided through, a medium of grace transformed by my touch. Through this darkness, through this strength, I came face-to-face with the root.
— — -
There comes a time when a person feels reborn from the death of parts of themselves. Through the journey we call life, there are parts of us that spiritually die to make space and room for the newer, fulfilled parts of us. This is what happened with this elder client.
It’s taken me four days to come back into my body after our third and final session. So that I can clear space within to mentally and emotionally function well again. Sessions like these require a professional as your mental, emotional, and spiritual bodies should be handled with care.
Swimming through any type of sticky substance, let alone black magic tar, without prior knowledge or experience would result in significant health and safety risks for all parties involved. It’s important to note that Haitian voodoo, with its rich history and potent rituals, is exceptionally strong and heavy. Confronting such powerful spiritual forces is dangerous and should only be undertaken by a seasoned professional with extensive experience.
But with every challenge comes a profound transformation. My client, once bound by dark forces that riddled her for generations, now radiates with newfound light and freedom. She has emerged stronger, with a renewed sense of purpose and clarity.
Her story is a testament to the possibility of healing and the remarkable changes that can occur when one seeks the right help. It reminds us all that, no matter how thick the tar, there is always a path to light and renewal.
The experiences and insights shared in this article are based on Shaman Dao’s personal and professional experiences, as they should not be interpreted as professional medical or psychological advice. If you are dealing with issues related to mental health, emotional well-being, or spiritual concerns, it is crucial to seek help from a qualified professional. Always consult with a licensed healthcare provider or therapist for accurate diagnosis and treatment of any medical or psychological conditions.