Probably best to start with a definition; Talisman; an object, typically an inscribed ring or stone, that is thought to have magic powers and to bring good luck.
I have one of these for my family, it has a name; UrIngFe – and this is how it came to be;
I found it on a street in my neighborhood on a family walk. It did not belong and so it drew my attention. I stopped to pick it up. An unremarkable rock, smooth black, not quite round, fit into the palm of my hand.
I felt like I should hang on to it. Point of Order, this is not a habit of mine. I have done this all of once. I took the rock and began to turn the thought in my mind as I turned the rock in my hand that this rock was somehow special.
That meant nothing more to me at the time that it was a keeper. I even had it for so time before I rubbed a round of runes on it. Thought about it more. Then I fell off the cliff.
I started to bind the rock to me. How so. To hold it. Mark the runes over and over again over then next weeks and months. It has my blood, my spit, my tears, and my sweat.
I dwelt upon it’s nature and pulled 3 runes. URUZ, INGWAZ, and FEHU.
URUZ – the great ox. The forces of nature that we do not fully understand but that have an effect upon our lives nonetheless. INGWAZ, the seed energy, the male energy. A potential just waiting to become kinetic. And FEHU, our material success found by our own labors.
The name is a combination of those 3 runes UR-ING-FE. I also thought it was for more than just me. Over the next weeks I had occasion to add my children’s bodily fluids. Don’t worry, I did not cut them, we waited for naturally occurring wounds. Did not have to wait long in the summer months with 2 active boys. Begrudgingly my wife contributed as well. Even our cats have rubbed up against it in an attempt to slave this stone to my entire family.
I have buried the stone ‘up north’ at our family cottage, outside by the water, over night. I have taken it to common destinations where our family has strong ties and good memories.
I have coated it with the wax of runic candles I made over the course of six long years. Breaking the wax coating off only after a day and a night. It has been buried with our deceased pet and touched both of my in-laws ashes.
By all ways I could think of and several more I am not ready to share here have I bound this stone to my family.
To what purpose? I know not. For now, it waits, it is honored and tended to. I am sure the purpose will avail itself when the time is right, but I feel there is quite some power stored up in it for now. I keep having a notion that upon smashing it to dust I could procure a mighty ask, but for now, that its preservation would guide my family’s luck.