Throwing the bones isn’t some parlor trick you pick up from a trendy book or a quick scroll through the internet. It’s heavy, it’s grounded, and it’s a craft that breathes. I learned it the old-school way—studying under my Baba, watching him walk the lines between Hoodoo, Ifa-Isese, and the shadow of Santa Muerte.
Because he’s based in New York, our entire journey of education and training has been conducted online. Distance didn’t make it any less challenging; if anything, you have to focus twice as hard when you’re learning an oral tradition through a screen. For a long time, people have asked me about the history of this craft, how a basket is built, and what it actually takes to communicate with the other side. This is how I explain it.
A Universal Language Written in Calcium
Before you look at my basket, you have to understand the miles on this practice. Long before osteomancy (the formal word for bone reading) ever touched the Americas, people all over the planet were looking at skeletal remains to figure out the path ahead. It is one of humanity’s oldest ways of talking to the divine, and it popped up independently across almost every continent.
In ancient China, diviners read the heat-cracked lines on ox shoulder blades. Across the Eurasian steppes, nomadic warriors cast the ankle bones of sheep to predict the outcomes of battles. In the British Isles, Celtic seers threw small animal bones and twigs to read the seasons. And across the African continent, casting systems using bones, shells, and seeds have been the literal mouthpiece of the spirits and ancestors for thousands of years.
But why bones? Why did entirely different cultures across thousands of years all land on skeletal remains as their spiritual telephone line?
Historically, it comes down to three things: permanence, sacrifice, and ancestral memory.
Flesh rots and disappears, but bones survive longer. To the ancients, the skeleton was the ultimate symbol of what endures—the core architecture of life that outlasts death. Because bones outlived the individual, they were viewed as the literal anchors of the ancestors. Furthermore, in early hunting and agrarian societies, animal bones were the leftovers of sustenance and sacred sacrifice. By casting the bones of an animal that gave its life to feed the tribe, or an animal that possessed a specific primal spirit (like a predator’s tooth or a swift bird’s wing), diviners were tapping directly into the spiritual essence, life force, and residual energy left behind in the calcium
Bone reading is a universal human instinct. Think of it like martial arts—every culture discovered how to punch and kick, but they all built different styles based on their terrain.
The Bloodline and the Basket
There is a massive misconception out there that you need to be dragged into a secret room and initiated into a formal society just to touch the bones. Let’s clear that up right now. In the style I was taught, initiation isn’t the key—”lineage, education, and hard training are.”
For my Baba, it’s about inheritance and sweat equity. You need that ancestral green light, the DNA connection, or the spiritual lineage passed down from someone who actually knows the terrain. But having the lineage just means you have the map; you still have to learn how to drive.
Even with Baba miles away, the training was relentless. It took hours upon hours of digital sessions, holding pieces up to the camera, studying how the layouts fell on the cloth, understanding the weight of the spirits we are dealing with, and training my mind to listen. There are no shortcuts. It’s a craft of education and discipline, not just a title.
The Starter Set: Bones and Curios as the Pillars of Life
I didn’t start out throwing a massive basket of fifty distinct items. You’d confuse yourself, and frankly, you haven’t earned their stories yet. I started exactly where my Baba told me to start: with a foundation set of essential pieces that map out the concrete pillars of the human experience. Each lineage has a distinct foundation set.
This means your initial tools are spiritually and historically calibrated to the specific ancestral agreements and currents of your house. It acts like an encrypted spiritual fingerprint—ensuring that only those who put in the actual training know how the pieces truly talk to one another, and ensuring the spirits of that specific line instantly recognize the worker on the cloth.
When I look at my specific lineage’s framework, the actual animal bones carry the heaviest structure, while the surrounding curios provide the context:
* Foundation, Labor & Action (Pig Feet Toe Bones / Chicken Wing Bones): These skeletal remains are the literal backbone of a man’s material life. The pig toes show your physical footing, stability, and the pure sweat equity you pour into building your world. The chicken wing bones show your momentum, reach, ambition, and whether your current projects are taking flight or running on fumes.
* Desire, Destiny & Choices (Chicken Wish Bone / A Dice): The chicken wish bone carries heavy folklore about a fork in the road—the diverging paths of a critical choice. When it lands near a die (the ultimate symbol of chance, risk, and unpredictable fate), they tell you if you are actively pulling your destiny toward you, or if you’re gambling with a situation where the odds are stacked heavily against you.
* Currents, Health & Flow (Fish Bone or Rib / Small Clear Quartz): A fish bone or rib represents your inner framework and hidden structure. Because fish navigate deep, unseen waters, it speaks to physical health conditions or emotional currents running underneath a problem. A small clear quartz crystal acts as the battery here, magnifying and bringing intense clarity to whatever inner truths those bones are exposing.
* Ancestral Spaces & Guideposts (Light and Dark Cowries / Skull Beads): This is where the spiritual court speaks. Light, open cowries connect directly to West African foundations like Ifá; landing open-face up means the ancestors are giving you a clear green light. Dark or large cowries introduce gravity, marking hidden shadows or protection from unseen eyes. Skull beads anchor the death work, showing whether your spiritual guides are backing your play or demanding your attention because you’re slipping up.
* Pathways, Direction & Strategy (Keys / Long Pointy Shells / Twigs): Keys are essential crossroads tools showing if a road is open or locked down tight. Long pointy shells act as arrows directing the energy, pointing out exactly where a situation is aiming, while a tree twig ties that direction back to your family tree and growth.
Why the Basket Holds More Than Just Bones
A common question I get is: If it’s called bone reading, why are there coins, keys, and stones in the basket?
To understand that, you have to look at the history and cultural background of how this craft survived. When West African casting traditions crossed the Atlantic, our ancestors couldn’t just openly carry their sacred items. They had to adapt. In the development of Hoodoo and diaspora folk magic, readers used a concept called magical substitution and material sympathy. They looked at the natural and manufactured world around them and selected items that inherently possessed the “spirit” or function of what they needed to represent.
Non-bone curios aren’t just fillers; they are the adjectives, adverbs, and punctuation that give the skeletal pieces their meaning. For example: copper pennies symbolize everyday wealth, financial stress, and paying the spirits for safe passage; broken china indicates domestic upheaval, fractured homes, or sudden family drama; and a small red stone like volcanic rock adds elemental fire, raw aggression, or explosive conflict to the layout.
The Wild Hunt: How the Collection Grows
Once you actually start practicing, the bones start calling to you. You don’t just buy a complete set online and call it a day. As my Baba always reminded me, once you start working, the collection of natural curios grows organically.
The system is designed to adapt. Once the spirits recognize you’re listening, you start noticing small pieces you feel naturally drawn to—things like extra teeth, nuts, unique shells, or distinctive bones you find. Like in my case, I have monkey tooth, a buckeye nut, a cat’s eye shell, a raccoon penis bone, and even a human finger bone I discovered in a local graveyard added in my set.
I’ll be walking in the woods and find a unique piece of lightning-struck wood that screams raw power. A specific stone, root, or a rusted coffin nail will practically jump into my pocket. Over time, that neat little starter set transforms into a rugged, sprawling ecosystem of curios. Each new piece adds a new layer to the language.
The Power of the Crossroads Style
What makes the style I carry so distinct is that it operates as a masterclass in synthesis. Instead of sticking to just one regional style, my practice sits directly at the crossroads of three powerful currents that my Baba mastered:
* Hoodoo: Gives me that practical, down-to-earth rootwork grit. It’s about solving everyday problems, protection, and honoring the ancestors of the soil using whatever nature provides.
* Ifa-Isese: Infuses my system with deep cosmic order, respect for ancestral destiny, and the ancient structures of West African divination.
* Santa Muerte: Brings the ultimate truth. The Skinny Lady doesn’t lie, and she doesn’t mince words. She reminds me that life is fleeting, so the advice from the bones better be sharp and actionable.
When these three forces converge in my hands, the readings stop being vague predictions and start becoming strategic blueprints for life.
Respecting the Craft
At the end of the day, shaking that leather cup or pouch is a heavy responsibility. I’m asking the dead, the spirits, and the cosmos to speak through a pile of curios dropped onto a cloth.
It’s a gentleman’s game of respect, discipline, and constant learning. Whether your teacher is sitting across the table from you or guiding you from a screen states away, the standard doesn’t change. I keep my pieces clean, I feed my spirits, and I never stop studying the way the bones fall. Because the moment you think you know everything they have to say is the exact moment they’ll throw you a curveball.
Not all that glitters is gold, but I’m going to take it just to be sure.
Sorry for double posting. I just wanted to share some photos of my bone reading set with my Hoodoo tarot deck and some animal skulls I use for shapeshifting.
If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask.
Not all that glitters is gold, but I’m going to take it just to be sure.
Hey, I really enjoyed your post. There’s a calm wisdom in how you describe the way your collection and practice grow naturally over time.
It’s kind of like how, in Buddhism, we talk about the importance of mindfulness and allowing things to unfold organically rather than forcing them. Your approach to working with curios and spirits seems to embody that sense of patience and respect.
I’m curious, what led you to blend Hoodoo, Ifa-Isese, and Santa Muerte?
Was there a particular experience that opened your eyes to their connection, or did it happen gradually?
And when working with these different traditions, how do you navigate the different protocols and philosophies without losing your balance?
Your mention of the curios growing “organically” really resonates. Do you have a way of discerning which pieces truly feel aligned with your practice versus those that might be less suited?
I imagine intuition plays a big role, but I’d be interested to hear how you maintain that balance between listening to your inner voice and respecting the traditions you work with.
Also, I’d love to hear more about your relationships with the spirits behind these curios.
Are there certain spirits that have been particularly helpful or challenging?
How do you stay connected and respectful to them over time?
Thanks for sharing this. It’s inspiring to see someone approaching the craft with such discipline and reverence, almost like a meditation practice in itself.
Hey, I really dig what you wrote. There’s something about how you describe your practice that feels so authentic and grounded. It’s like it’s growing organically, piece by piece, over time. That’s pretty much how I see a lot of real magick too, not about forcing things, but about staying present and letting the work unfold naturally.
I really appreciate how you blend Hoodoo, Ifa-Isese, and Santa Muerte. That’s a powerful combo, and I can see how each one brings something unique to the table. Do you find they play off each other pretty smoothly, or have you had to put in extra effort to keep everything balanced?
With so many traditions involved, I imagine it takes a lot of respect and awareness to honor each one properly. It’s a delicate dance, but when done right, I bet it creates a really rich practice.
Your idea of curios turning into an ecosystem really hits home. It’s like building a living part of your practice. How do you decide which pieces are truly right for you, especially when they come from different places or sources? Do you mostly trust your intuition, or do you have specific rituals or checks to make sure they’re aligned?
And I couldn’t agree more about the importance of respect and discipline. Those are what keep everything grounded. Over the years, I’ve learned that staying humble and attentive is key. Sometimes, the spirits surprise us, and that’s when you really learn to listen and adapt.
Would love to hear more about some of the spirits or energies you work with regularly. Are there certain ones that feel like close allies? How do you keep those relationships strong over time?
Great post and subject. Looking forward to seeing how your practice continues to grow and evolve.
Thanks for locking in and reading the post, man. I appreciate the respect. It’s funny you mention Buddhism and mindfulness, because you’re right—shaking that basket and laying out the cloth or plate requires you to clear your mind and just be completely present. If you bring your own noise or ego to the table, the bones will shut right up. It’s definitely a form of meditation in discipline.
To answer your questions about the paths and the balance:
I can’t take credit for the blueprint of blending Hoodoo, Isese, and Santa Muerte. This is the specific lineage passed down to me by my teacher, my Baba, who trains me out of New York. For me, it wasn’t a gradual hobby choice; it was an inheritance and a massive blessing. These three paths might seem different on the surface, but at the crossroads, they click together perfectly. Hoodoo gives you that practical, everyday survival grit on the ground; Ifa provides the deep cosmic order and ancestral alignment; and Santa Muerte brings the absolute, unvarnished truth. They don’t fight each other because they all respect the laws of the dead and the ancestors.
Navigating the different philosophies without losing my footing comes down to one word: education. Because my training with Baba Ifatobi is entirely online through intense digital sessions, I have to be twice as sharp. You learn that every spirit has its own door, its own language, and its own boundary. You don’t feed Santa Muerte at the Ifa shrine, and you don’t bring the wild rootwork of Hoodoo into spaces where strict cosmic protocol rules. You maintain balance by treating each force with absolute, compartmentalized reverence. This is why I have different altars for each spiritual path or lineage I’m practicing. You learn the rules like a professional, so you know exactly how to stand at the center of the crossroads without getting knocked over.
When it comes to the basket growing organically, intuition is definitely the compass, but tradition is the anchor. If I’m out in the woods or walking a path and a piece catches my eye—like a specific bone, a twig, a strange stone, or even a toy like dominoes, a miniature doll, etc.—I don’t just throw it in the basket right away. I hold it, feel its weight, and test its spirit. But the ultimate filter goes back to my training. Each lineage has a distinct foundation set that acts as a spiritual fingerprint. If a new curiosity doesn’t naturally serve as an “adjective” or “punctuation mark” to support that foundation, it doesn’t make the cut. It’s a mix of gut feeling and strict vetting.
When it comes to relationships, it’s all about consistency and sweat equity. I keep my pieces clean, I feed the lines through offerings, and stick to my word. The ancestors are always the most helpful because they have skin in the game—they want to see the bloodline succeed. The hardest part is always Santa Muerte, simply because she demands complete honesty. She forces you to confront your own flaws before judging others, and she doesn’t hold back.
Thanks again for the thoughtful questions and the solid vibe. Keep keeping your mind sharp.
Not all that glitters is gold, but I’m going to take it just to be sure.
Thanks for the words,. I really appreciate you recognizing the grounding it takes to do this work. You’re dead on—real magic isn’t a sprint; it’s a slow, steady burn. If you try to force it or rush the basket, you just end up with a pile of quiet junk.
Regarding your question about whether maintaining the smoothness of the combo requires extra effort to keep Hoodoo, Isese, and Santa Muerte balanced: absolutely. However, they don’t clash because I prevent them from bleeding into each other blindly. Think of it like managing a tight crew—everyone has their specific role, their own lane, and boundaries. Since I trained under a teacher, the protocols were ingrained in me early on. As long as you respect the individual doors and strict protocols of each tradition, they work together like a well-oiled machine.
When a piece calls to you in the world, intuition is the spark that prompts you to pick it up, but it’s not the only test. Like I mentioned, each lineage has a distinct foundation. That foundation is an encrypted spiritual fingerprint. When I find a new piece—whether it’s a tooth, a stone, or a root—it must undergo a strict vetting process to ensure it aligns with the language of that foundation. Once a piece passes the test, traditional protocol dictates that I formally introduce it to the ancestors. I present the piece to the ancestors, state its purpose, and define exactly what it represents on the cloth. If it doesn’t naturally serve as a sharp adjective or punctuation mark to support the core lines passed down by my Baba, it stays out of the basket. My intuition opens the door, but the lineage rules the house.
When you ask about keeping those relationships strong, it’s not a mystery—it’s just consistency. I feed the spirits regularly, keep my pieces clean and well-fed too, and I never give my word to a spirit unless I intend to bleed to keep it. The ancestors are the ultimate allies. But standing at this specific crossroads means you have to stay humble. The moments the spirits surprise you or throw you a curveball are the exact moments you realize you’re a student for life.
Thanks for bringing that solid, attentive energy to the post, brother. Maintain your footing solid out there.
Not all that glitters is gold, but I’m going to take it just to be sure.