“What is this site, Edgealia?”
This blog expands the musings, notes and footnotes from THE USHERS, a novel about a psychopomp processing medical trauma while navigating corrupt systems in the mortal realm. Each essay within explores topics that Grace (our protagonist) touches on in her marginal commentary, her other notes that don’t quite fit in the margins of THE USHERS and random musings related to the mortal toil of life.
Notes from the psychopomp’s threshold…
…all the observations, rage, pattern-recognition that doesn’t fit neatly into narrative but demands to be documented, filed for further reference and noted, by someone.
If you’re reading this – you’re that someone. Welcome to the edge.
Grace is the protagonist and “author” of Edgealia
THE USHERS is the novel I am creating which centers around fictional character – Grażyna Stanisława Skłodowska Perkins. Aka: Grace. This is her blog.
Grace is a lot like me because some of her story is actually my story. Except the really fictionalized parts – there’s a lot of that.
Grace is a former ICU/hospice nurse turned professional photographer (like me). She’s also the protagonist of my in-the-works novel: THE USHERS, a semi-autobiographical work that touches upon life, loss, the in-between states and the humor and cosmic ridiculousness of it all.
In The Ushers, Grace discovers she’s a psychopomp while navigating complex post-medical trauma and documenting the corrupt systems designed to kill her (and others).
This collection of essays within this site, Edgealia, will explore a range of topics and rants and observations. From systemic corruption: how systems lie to medical trauma and obstetric violence to Polish folklore to manifestation culture and rounding the bend to threshold consciousness. It explores the cost of surviving systems that profit from your suffering and the price we all pay.
Whatever else reveals itself at the edge of consciousness and knowing will be shown.
This site serves as testimony. This site explores my notes from the threshold. I am Grace, not all her thoughts are mine, most of this is fiction based on snippets of fact. Buyer beware. Reader be aware.
xoxo, Mare
About Edgealia (Defining the Word):
“What Is Edgealia?”
So yeah, I made up a word.
Edgealia (edge-AY-lee-uh): Notes from the edge. Things related to thresholds, boundaries, and liminal spaces.
Like “marginalia” – notes in the margins – Edgealia represents my (and occasionally guest) commentary from the EDGE: The threshold where life meets death, where text meets void and where sense and nonsense meet.
All of a psychopomp’s work.
“What is a psychopomp?”
From the Greek word ψυχοπομπός, psychopompós. Psychopomp literally means the ‘guide of souls’. The role of the psychopomp is not to judge the deceased but to simply guide them to the next place.
Psychopomps appear across cultures: Ancient Egyptian Anubis; Greek Hermes and Charon; Norse Valkyries; Irish Banshees; the angelic Azrael in Abrahamic religions.
And then there’s the most sartorially dressed of them all: Baron Samedi.
The Baron is a powerful Loa in Haitian Vodou – the Grand Master, a 32º initiated Mason of Vodou Spirits in the spiritual realm.
One invokes Baron to contact and communicate with the mortal dead, determining whether spirits can visit or must linger in limbo until ready for navigation to the next world. But he serves as something more to our protagonist, Grace.
While he’s quite famous for his debauchery, obscenities, vulgarity, and trickster nature – he has a heart and many lessons to impart. You see, Death never judges, you have been already judged before coming before Death.
The Baron has a penchant for tobacco and rum – and some have petitioned him with such to remove unwanted entities or even ward off death itself. He functions as a miracle worker of sorts, capable of curing infections or wounds if he believes it worth his time. He’s also the Loa of resurrection.
Some call him Baron Saturday – not because he serves Saturn (Kronos), but because Saturday is death’s day: the only day Jesus was dead before resurrection – the liminal pause between crucifixion and rising. Holy Saturday. Black Saturday. The threshold. The day Christ descended to the dead, walked the space between worlds, neither living nor resurrected, liminally paused.
That’s Baron’s domain. Death’s day. The pause before return. So the Roman Catholic Church tells us, anyway.
You’ll see The Baron again, soon. For now, patrz, pamiętaj[1].
Look, remember…and welcome to the edge.
[1] Pronounced PAH-tsh pah-MYEN-tai. Polish phrase inherited from my mamusia (mom) - it nods to the wisdom of women who witness, document, and remember what others would rather forget. She often would use it as an underscore to remember something of value she wished to impart upon me. "Patrz, pamiętaj, Grażyna.Żadna praca nie hańbi." Meaning no job is dishonorable, everybody who works deserves your respect, a nice way of saying "don't look down on others."