Today I cleansed myself with an egg.
But before I get into all that, have you signed up for the chance to help me out and become part of The Everyday Lore Project yet? On 1 September I’ll be writing a postcard to five people on a folklore subject of their choosing. To be one of the lucky five, all you need do is subscribe to the blog, fill in a form and cross your fingers. It’ll take 30 seconds, and look I’ve even started painting the postcards:
Yes, I know there are more than five but I’m bound to bugger up a couple. Go on, you know you want to.
Anyhow, back to the egg. Egg cleansing is a traditional way of getting rid of negative energy, the evil eye, and other supernaturally related nasties. And I’m always up for a bit of that. There are two parts to an egg cleanse. The first is rubbing an egg all over your body, the second is then divining what the egg says about you. The second part isn’t necessary as the rubbing does the business, it’s just if you’re nosy about the state of your aura.
As with all these things, everyone has a different way of doing it. So I cribbed off several sources and compiled my own ritual. First I checked if the egg was still good by seeing if it was a floater. It wasn’t, so I weighed it, as it’s said sometimes the egg can be heavier after the ceremony due to all the negativity is sucks up. Next I gathered several sage leaves I had drying on my window sill for moments such as these, and washed the egg.
After lighting the sage, I was supposed to say a prayer. Being of a not-believing-in-anything persuasion, I always find this bit hard. After a think, I basically ended up thanking a list of the elements and various weather conditions. Then passing the egg through the terribly thin sage smoke (as it refused to stay lit) I finished this part of the ritual by asking my egg to cleanse me.
Despite the oddness, the egg felt rather lovely. It was cool, smooth and easy to hold (I took heart that my energy wasn’t so negative as to explode the egg during the process). Using my dominant hand I passed it over everywhere, remembering to hold it in my palms, rub the soles of my feet and touch it to my chakras. Finishing, I blew on it three times. I was quite surprised to find myself a little shaky after, but I’m putting that down to breathing in the sage rather too deeply.
At this stage you can dispose of the egg, although eating it is not advised. Instead I broke it into a jug of water and began to read it. Now, if the egg is to believed, I’m doomed. On the plus side, I wasn’t so riddled with negativity that the yolk had gone fetid. Here’s what I saw:
I found the egg perfectly beautiful in the water. From certain angles it reminded me of the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz. So it was a shame I had to flush it down the toilet and then throw a load of salt and lemon juice in after it. But there you go. Can’t say I feel less fatigued, but I do feel a tad more paranoid that people might not be so pleasantly disposed towards me. As for the weight, before the ritual it was 57 grams. And afterwards it was 56 grams. Have I absorbed a gram of egg? Does this mean from now on every time I have an omelette, I’ll be committing cannibalism?
Anyhow, here are some more photos. And don’t forget to sign up for the postcard ballot!