Disclaimer: Everyone’s astral experiences are different. While the astralling community may agree for the most part on the following things, you may still experience and believe different things. And that’s okay! ;D *musical flourish*
Your astral body can be wildly different from your physical body:
Sexual and romantic tastes can differ between astral and physical.
Gender and sex can differ between astral and physical.
Shapeshifting is possible with the astral body.
Even throughout different lives and forms, your being has a core that remains unchanged. This could be known as a “soul”.
There are different kinds of astral bodies/astral experiences:
Some astralling is not permanent; you make a body to astral temporarily and it vanishes/dissolves when you’re done.
Some astralling is semi-permanent; you have an astral self that’s “stored” in your physical body.
Then there’s physical semi-permanent where, on physical realms, you form a physical body but it’s only active when you use it.
there’s permanent-permanent when you’re “tuning into” another
body/consciousness with its own life that does its own thing even when
not in use.
Your astral body and physical body can influence each other:
Injury/sickness in astral can affect physical. For example, many people who have been in astral fights wake up the next morning with pains where they were hurt in battle.
Injury/sickness in the physical can affect the astral, but not as much as the reverse (as limbs can be regrown, the body is very “fluid”, etc.). For example, if you are sick in the physical, parasites may show up in your astral body, it may be harder for you to connect to your astral body, your astral vision may become blurry, etc.
You can get used to being one way in astral and then feel “off” when returning to the physical. You can have wings in the astral and then feel like you’re missing something when you return to your physical body.
If the astral body is killed or destroyed, it can regenerate using the physical body’s energy.
Your astral body can change depending on where you are:
You can remember some things better in the astral (past lives, astral experiences) than in the physical. They may be weakened, lost, or harder to recall when returning to the physical.
This is applicable to specific realms as well. If you have a fae-touched soul, for example, you may recall past lives while travelling to fae realms.
You may also experience shifts in your astral form depending on location. Some fae-touched people’s forms change when they are in their fae homeworlds.
Different astral realms differ in their effects on one’s astral body. Some things may be possible in one realm but not another. This can also be tied to one’s energetic makeup. For example, someone with angelic energies might have a hard time shapeshifting when in Hell.
Thank you to everyone who helped with the information!~
“The 1967 Pulitzer Prize award winning photo called ‘The Kiss of Life’ by Rocco Morobito. "This photo shows two power linemen, Randall Champion and J. D. Thompson, at the top of a utility pole. They had been performing routine maintenance when Champion brushed one of the high voltage lines at the very top. These are the lines that can be heard “singing” with electricity. Over 4000 volts entered Champion’s body and instantly stopped his heart (an electric chair uses about 2000 volts).His safety harness prevented a fall, and Thompson, who had been ascending below him, quickly reached him and performed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. He was unable to perform CPR given the circumstances, but continued breathing into Champion’s lungs until he felt a slight pulse, then unbuckled his harness and descended with him on his shoulder. Thompson and another worker administered CPR on the ground, and Champion was moderately revived by the time paramedics arrived, eventually making a full recovery.”
Bless your heart.
Bless your holy kneecaps,
they are so smart.
You are so full of rain.
There is so much that’s growing.
Hallelujah to your weather veins.
Hallelujah to the ache, to the pull
to the fall, to the pain.
Hallelujah to the grace in the body
In every cell of us all.
Andrea Gibson, from “I Sing the Body Electric Especially When My Power’s Out”
They said “you are not allowed to love her”
Tried to take me by the throat
And teach me I was not a boy
I had to unlearn their prison speak.
I said to the the sun
“Tell me about the big bang”
The sun said
“it hurts to become”
I carry that hurt on the tip of my tongue
And whisper bless your heart every chance I get.
A bruise, blue
in the muscle, you
impinge upon me.
As bone hugs the ache home, so
I’m vexed to love you, your body
the shape of returns, your hair a torso
of light, your heat
I must have, your opening
I’d eat, each moment
of that soft-finned fruit,
inverted fountain in which I don’t see me.
Li-Young Lee, from “The City in Which I Love You”
i work the late shift at the ice cream shop and i don’t leave until it’s dark, almost ten o'clock, but when i do i get on my bike and put in my earphones and ride through the mystery of suburban night, follow hazy streetlights, avoid cracks in the sidewalk, and everything is a little mystical when the sun has gone down and the lawns are all the same in rows upon rows, and you can’t be sure if the fuzzy shape in front of you is a person or a tree, but you swerve anyway, and keep on going, the smooth pavement under your tires whispering away. and i ride and ride.
I Sing The Body Electric
The armies of those I love
And I engirth them.
Wandering the universe
And the leaves.
And the blood.
The art of conceiving
A new life.
The art of conceiving again
A new life.
The commonality of suffering
Yet an ever burning desire
To not trust a soul.
The wandering eyes wanting
What they do not have
And not wanting
What they already have.
The exquisite realization
And the universe’s gravity
Holding the entire solar system
By a string.
A string so thin
A string so strong
It is simultaneously
And ever not.
The exquisite realization
The swaying of the eyes
And of the hips
And of the lips
And of the hands
And the waving of the hair
And the souls beneath your feet
And the soul within your being.
The rotation of clocks
The circling rounds
Between the times
The circling rivers
And within me.
And the ligaments
The air and the blood
Inside of the lungs
And breathing it in
And breathing it out.
The pure sensation of a youthful breathe
The actuality of imaginary thoughts
Feeling those images
With the nerves on the tips
Of your fingers.
And the articulation of the back
The spinal cord
Sensation under your arms
The sclera of your eyes
The tip of your nose.
The leaves on the trees
The wind flowing through you
And flowing through it.
The ecosystems within
The whistling of the winds
Crashing into the crevices
Of the leaves
And that of the branches.
And the marrow in the bones.
The restless vibrations
Parading through the ground
The light of the sun
And the light of the moon.
The exquisite physical sensation
Of pure human compassion.
The humility in poetry.
Inspired by the Poem, “I Sing The Body Electric” written by Walt Whitman.
My Feast of Fortuna gift for @patroklosandachilles! This took me forever to finish and post, I’m so sorry! I based it off the song “The Changing of the Seasons” by Two Door Cinema Club, I hope you like it!
It was June. Will found himself at the counter of the Earl Club, sitting alone on a slow Thursday evening. The poignant scent of whiskey and wood polish overwhelmed his senses, dulling the warm summer twilight into a sluggish blur. Foggy memories of auburn hair and sickly sweet lips drifted through his mind as he downed another glass.
He barely registered the sound of the door bursting open, and the loud thudding of footsteps that followed. A familiar voice pierced through his addled state, “Will? Will, it’s me, Nico, are you alright?”
Will shifted his gaze to Nico. He could make out the angular plains of his face and loose strands of dark hair falling into his eyes. Despite his dismal predicament, warmth filled Will’s chest. “Nothin’ to worry about,” Will slurred. He forced a smile, “I’m doin’ just fine.”
Nico glared at him. “Solace, you aren’t fine. Piper said you broke up with Mitchell and then the next thing I know you’re here and you’ve already drank an entire bottle.”
“More like half a bottle,” Will said.
Nico rolled his eyes and pushed the glass out of Will’s reach. “We’re going home.” His tone indicated the issue was not up for debate. He slung Will’s arm around his thin shoulders and pulled him upwards. Will was unsteady on his feet, swaying dangerously as Nico assisted him out the door. He dragged him down the street, past flickering neon signs and mobs of people bubbling up from the subway.
They managed to make it around the block to Nico’s apartment, and several flights of stairs later, Will was deposited on the couch while Nico disappeared into the kitchen. Spots danced across Will’s vision, and scraps of 18th century poetry about love and lies pounded in his head.
Nico returned several moments later, carrying a blanket and a glass of water. He placed the cup on the coffee table and draped the blanket over Will’s body. “Mitchell isn’t worth this kind of pain, Will,” Nico said, seating himself on the edge of the couch, beside Will’s legs.
Will focused his bleary eyes on him. “I loved him, Nico. I loved him so much.”
Nico sighed and scooted closer. “What exactly happened between you two?”
“He cheated on me,” Will replied. He worried the hem of the blanket between his fingers, “A couple days ago, I came home from the library a couple hours early. I figured studying could wait a day, and I could do something nice for Mitchell. When I got to the apartment, he was making out with another guy in the kitchen.” By the time Will finished, the threads of the blanket were unraveled and frayed, and his face shined with tears.
Nico placed his hand on Will’s thigh. “You know, if he can’t see how special you are then that’s his loss.”
“But I saw how special he was, and I loved him for it. How am I supposed to move past that?” Will said in a quavering voice.
“There are lots of other people out there who you will love,” Nico answered. A fond smile crossed his face, “And they will love you a whole lot more than Mitchell loved you.”
It was October. A crisp autumn breeze laced with tidings of winter whipped through the open window of Will’s apartment. The downy texture of the shag rug he laid on cushioned his body. He turned his head to look at Nico, whose dark hair spread around his face like a smear of ink against the clean, white material. The air was acrid with the sharp scent of spices rising from the burning candles on the nightstand.
“I can’t believe you actually think those things smell good,” Nico said, wrinkling his nose.
Will rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his arm. “If you don’t like them, why do you always come over here?”
Nico rolled his eyes. “Because you’re lonely and have no one else to keep you company. Speaking of which, you aren’t still pining over Mitchell, are you?”
Will sighed and shook his head. “No, but I haven’t exactly made progress in my more recent romantic endeavors either.”
Nico sat up. “What about that girl in your anatomy class? Or the boy you met at the coffee shop?”
“The girl has a boyfriend and the boy turned out to be an asshole,” Will replied.
“Their loss then.” Nico scooted closer to Will.
Will laughed and smiled. “You always know exactly what to say in these situations, don’t you, di Angelo?”
Nico flushed. “You’re my best friend, I’m just trying to help you. If it’s any consolation, I haven’t had sex in a year, and the last time I tried going on a date the guy turned out to be a drug dealer.”
“I’m hoping these two incidents aren’t related,” said Will.
“You’re an idiot.” Nico rolled his eyes and punched his arm playfully.
Will stared at him with softness in his gaze. “Do you remember what you told me about how there will be a lot of other people who love me?”
Nico’s muscles tensed. “What about it?”
Will hesitated. His eyes remained fixed on Nico, taking in the sharpness of his cheekbones, the warm brown of his eyes, his lean, pale figure. Will’s heart pounded in his chest. Every nerve in his body felt like it was singing with electricity.
“Will?” Nico raised an eyebrow.
Will snapped out of his stupor. He shook his head, “N-nevermind, it was nothing.”
Nico’s eyes lingered on Will for a moment before he flopped onto the carpet and continued to rant about the scent of the candles.
It was February. Will was once again dumped across Nico’s couch, surrounded by half-eaten boxes of discount chocolate and crushed bouquets of wilting roses. Snow blew past the window in a horizontal blur. The room was silent except for the crackling of logs in the fire and the sound of paper crinkling.
Will turned his head to look a Nico, who was laying in a pile of discarded candy wrappers and ribbons at Will’s feet. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”
“Yes I did, you’re my best friend. It’s my job to comfort your lonely ass on Valentine’s Day,” Nico said.
“Technically it’s the day after Valentine’s Day,” Will reminded him.
Nico glared at him. “Smart-ass.”
Will laughed and slid off the couch to join Nico on the floor. “Thank you.”
Nico flushed. “Don’t thank me, I already told you this was obligatory,” he said.
“So you do have a heart.” Will grinned and scooted closer to Nico so that their shoulders were touching.
Nico rolled his eyes. “If anyone here is heartless, it’s you, Solace.”
“How dare you make such an accusation!” Will exclaimed. He pressed a hand to his chest, taking mock offense.
“Hey, I’m not the one who ruthlessly murdered a spider in my apartment,” said Nico, smirking.
Will threw his hands up defensively. “Nico, it was a spider! It was kill or be killed!”
Nico laughed and rested his head on Will’s shoulder. “I would’ve never pegged you for a killer, what with your colorful clothes, dimples, and perpetual optimism.”
Will smiled and closed his eyes. “The best killers are often the ones you’d never expect.” Nico hummed in response and they fell into a comfortable silence.
“Will?” asked Nico, breaking the quiet.
“Hm?” Will answered.
Nico peered at Will’s face. His eyes were still closed and his dark lashes casted shadows across his freckled cheeks. His tousled golden curls contrasted sharply against the gray New York City winter.
“You haven’t pursued anyone since you broke up with Mitchell, right?” Nico bit his lip.
Will opened his eyes and stared at Nico, confused. “No?”
Nico sat up and moved so that he was sitting across from Will. “D-do you mind if I try something?” His tone was tentative.
Will’s heart rate sped up tenfold. “S-sure.”
Nico’s eyes fluttered closed and he leaned forward. As if pulled by an invisible force, Will followed suit, and pressed his lips to Nico’s.
Their first kiss wasn’t as earth-shattering as it was in Will’s fantasies. There weren’t fireworks or dramatic flourishes of horns and strings, but it was everything a kiss should be: brief and tender, and composed of a thousand what-ifs.
They pulled apart, faces as red as tomatoes and hearts pounding erratically in their chests.
“You kissed me,” Will said.
Nico huffed. “Way to state the obvious, Solace.”
“No, wait,” Will pressed his fingers to his temples, “That’s not what I meant to say.”
“Still stating the obvious,” Nico pointed out.
Will exhaled and dropped his hands to his sides. “Please just kiss me again.”
The corners of Nico’s mouth lifted into a smirk. “I’d be happy to oblige.”
Their lips connected once more, this time creating a kiss that felt like the first blossoms of April awakening to a rejuvenated earth after a difficult winter. Will smiled against Nico’s mouth; spring had come.