The Act of Saying Goodbye.

As tomorrow begins the start of the intercalary days prior to my Kemetic New Year, I knew I had to get this entry written tonight or leave the story without an ending. As someone who always thought of themselves as an author, leaving something so open-ended was tantamount to failure.

There are a lot of things I haven’t mentioned in this year-long work with my ex-husband and all that I have put myself through in an attempt to prevent our traveling this road again. While my writing down every ounce of what happened between us in this current life was important, it was only a small part to the overall work that I had to go through. Much of the work that I put myself through had to do with astral shenanigans as well as reliving our past lives together. A lot of the work was such intense healing work that there are no words to describe what I had to put myself through in order to destroy the tether that bound our two souls. I’m going to finally describe what I did on the astral, minus the past life stuff, so that others who read this will know what NOT to do if they ever end up like me.

After Hekate made it abundantly clear that my ex-husband and I have been bound together, soul to soul, for numerous lives, I began to feel like I had a black, oozing cancer manifesting itself in my soul. This cancer would begin to eat away at every ounce of who I am and destroyed a lot of the connections I had been building over the years. It tended to come out in a physical way with self-destructive impulses, as well as depression, anxiety, and anger. These emotions, while I do experience them on my own, seemed to be multiplied and exacerbated no matter what sort of motions I went through in order to stem the tide. It was almost as if this cancer was trying to destroy me because I was attempting to remove it.

Much of the ooze – there really is no descriptor besides that for what his soul facet within mine was like – had become so integrated into my core soul components that a simple surgery like we would get at the astral doctor was out. I had to do a form of chemotherapy to remove it. With each dose of this form of astral chemo – usually in the form of watching a past life over and over again, trying to see it from clinical eyes instead of emotional eyes – would shrink the cancer a little bit at a time. And with each time I came back from that adventure, I would find myself more disconnected, more disillusioned, more depressed, and questioning my sanity all the more. While the last bit may not have anything to do with the connection I have with my ex-husband, it is something that I began to take note of right along with everything else as I fought back against the cancer eating away at my soul.

Around the time that Hekate began to make motions about leaving, I grew tired of waiting on the chemotherapy. A lot of the tired of waiting was my own fault. I put a lot of this off for longer and longer periods of time. This was, also, I’ve come to diagnose, a side effect of that soul cancer. With each entry I wrote here and each trip into the astral, I ended up coming back from it with less and less desire to work on the problem. I began to truly despair that I would get this done in a timely manner. And with Hekate leaving me in the good hands of Sekhmet to continue the healing process, I really knew that I had a choice here. I could continue down the tried and true path, taking my doses of chemotherapy each night or I could do something drastic.

Here’s a little known fact about me: I am the most impatient sonofabitch you ever did meet.

So, without any anesthetic or any warning, I reached into my soul and yanked the cancer out. I flung the dirty, the vile, the horrific thing away from me. And I fell to the ground.

Don’t worry, this is not recommended and I got my ass handed to me. Hekate decided that I was an idiot and that’s, actually, why she left when she did. Sekhmet cooed over me and yelled at me. I got a lot of yelling as I lay curled on my side for days in the astral. I didn’t go anywhere. I didn’t do anything. For large parts of it, I wasn’t even aware of what was going on in the astral because I hadn’t just ripped out the cancerous ooze that was my ex-husband’s binding to my soul, but I had also managed to rip out a large portion of my soul with it. And of course, since nothing was ever easy either because of myself or because this is my life, those soul pieces were now missing. With three-quarters of a soul, I began to slowly come back to myself. Most of the next few days were entirely devoted to Sekhmet yelling at me, Aset cooing over me and clicking her tongue, and Mut doing her motherly affectation.

I was pretty much in a daze.

I spent the next few months slowly going around and trying to find the piece of my soul that I had ripped out along with the cancer. Aset would send me places and I would begin to find what I needed in order to start piecing the puzzle of my soul back together. I don’t know how or why, but very much like the crystal from InuYasha, my soul pieces ended up all over the fucking place. I managed to gather up many of those pieces and brought them back to Sekhmet to have her bind them up and shove them back into place. The problem here is that not all the pieces were found – the cancer was still attached to some of the soul bits and I couldn’t figure out how to clean it off so I figured it was better to do without – and so that fit wasn’t complete. Sekhmet did… something… and the soul bits have managed to reform with one another. The fit isn’t total; it’s definitely not complete.

I don’t recommend doing this for a lot of reasons – the yelling, the pain, the daze, the stupidity – but above all, the problem is that when you are trying to re-grow soul bits to fit with one another, you end up kind of insane for a while. It’s very much like a broken mosaic that has to be refit together. Sekhmet used bits of herself to fortify what she was doing and got some other bits from some helpful other spirits we know. There were days where I didn’t know who or what I was and what I was supposed to be doing on the astral. Other days, I couldn’t remember how to get back to the astral at all. And in still other days, half of me was in the astral while the other half was living here, doing things and being alive.

Another reason why this was can be so difficult is because you end up with various personalities more at the surface than with other personalities. This is how you get to meet how many soul facets you have within you, but it’s not really a good idea if you have to, you know, like live a life or anything. I found two major personalities in my soul who are polar fucking opposites and there were days where I wanted to rip my head off of my shoulders because I was rapidly cycling from personality to personality. This was pretty much when I was given absolute fucking obvious testimony that I am (A) Sekhmet’s daughter and (B) not as crazy as I always just assumed.

While all of this insanity was going on with my woo life, I ended up doing some very cathartic in-this-life magix to assist in my moving on.

Sometimes, literally cutting cords is the most cathartic thing a person can do.

I went out and bought one of those shitty little rope toys you can purchase for your dog. I was hoping for a pure white one, but ended up with this kind of multicolored ribbon type for $1. I pinned my name to one end and my ex-husband’s to the other. I placed it as an offering upon Sekhmet’s shrine and over three days, I literally cut the cords.

It was during this time that I began to seriously consider what the step for these halves were. I knew that I needed to do something nurturing towards my half, but I wasn’t quite sure what I needed to do with the ex-husband’s half. It was then that I wrote my entry regarding the etiquette of saying goodbye. After a lot of back and forth with myself, I decided that as much as I still want to make him feel badly for what he did to me, it wasn’t worth it. Sometimes, the fact that we can say, “I really dislike what you have done to me and I would very much like you to acknowledge that you screwed me over, I am an adult and I can walk away.” As an adult, I decided I would be kinder to he than he has ever been to me.

This is what my half looked like when I was finished.

With both of our halves in hand, I began to sing to myself as I braided charms into the ends. I placed little amulets for dreams, hope, success, spoons, and other type things on my end. I fed my half with all of the things I was hoping to find in my life without my ex-husband and his soul being bound to mine. Instead of searing the ends as I knew that would hurt terribly, I ended up tying off the ends so that they would “atrophy” and drop off, making it impossible for my half to adequately forge with his again. I added four jingle bells to it so that he would know I was coming if we meet again in the astral or if we meet in another life.

I did the same for his half because, again, I am the adult here.

I buried my half in a pleasant place beside a birch tree. The place that I chose was really no contest. I knew that I wanted to finish my half of the rite in a place where I was comfortable and where I could watch over that portion of myself over the years. Not only did I finish the rite in a place where I am happy and at peace – and honestly, whenever I go there, I feel like I am ‘home’ – but I also had TH assist me with the burial part. This was a symbolic way of showing that not only did TH help me completely in getting away from my ex-husband in this life, but that he has continued, over the years, to help me in contending with the horror and trauma from that time of my life. So, with hands held, we buried my portion of my soul in a pleasant, happy place.

I threw the ex-husband’s half in the trash.

It went to the dump yesterday.

And now, I can say that I am completely free.

A Tale of Two Magix.

And two execrations.

I’m not much of a witch. In fact, I don’t really consider myself a witch at all. I should, in effect, because I practice magical art forms, or spell casting or wanga making. However, I just laugh to myself uproariously when I call myself a witch. “Me,” I said softly, giggling, “a witch? I think not.” So, I’m just me and sometimes, I perform ornate, or not, forms of magic to see my will materialize in a way or five. In this post, we’re going to talk about three separate magical forms: wanga, heka, and cursing.

Dinosaurs are also an excellent fun activity no matter your age group.

About two weeks ago, an integral part of my personal community asked us for some assistance on behalf of her husband. He’s not having a good time, being in the military and being away from her and you know, being not in country at the moment. Everything really sucks and is just shitty. So, the request went out for “SOMETHING NICE AND SOFT AND WARM AND FUZZY AND LACE IT WITH HAPPY JUICE” to those of us who are in that community. Initially, I wanted to be really over the top and silly: I wanted to use dinosaurs like Wash from Firefly. Her husband would choose a dinosaur as the “evil one” and we would both ritually kill it whenever he needed to ritually kill BAD JUJU/SAUCE. It was heka and it was fun! However, apparently, people don’t actually sell small scale dinosaurs in the spring time, so all I could find were big ones. And since I had to ship her a package that she would then ship to her husband, I nixed the idea.

I immediately asked Papa Legba for some assistance here and he, of course, told me I should look to wanga. He said I should make a paket for the occasion. And I figured, well, I was doing spells in jars so it wouldn’t be too hard to bind them up in fabric. However, since the man in question is military, I didn’t want to be too overt or anything. I chose a bandanna (blue) to hold the magical items in. I then added a bunch of herbs together in a bowl, specifically with the intention of calming or healing purposes. I used chamomile, lavender, rosemary, carnations, and various other herbs that I’m running low on. (My curse and healing spell herbs are nearly gone. Gee. What in the world do I focus on.) I also added key charms I saw in passing, blessed by Papa Legba and soaked in Florida water to help open the way for the healing/calming herbs to happen. And finally, I added black tourmaline (protection), amethyst (inner strength/relieving stress), green aventurine (comfort, healing, and harmony), snowflake obsidian (inner calm), and hematite (grounding). Also, as a side note, I don’t know why I chose most of the stones I did until after I had sewn up the paket.

My son showing me what “real magic” is.

I requested that Papa Legba bless the bandana and the keys, while everything else was mixed in a bowl for Aset to look over for twenty-four hours. At this point, my son happened to notice me praying in front of Papa Legba’s altar, on my knees and with my hands waving about. He asked me what I was up to and when I told him I was doing magic, he looked around. He turns to me and says, “Mommy, it’s not magically here.” So I had to have one of the many discussions with him regarding reality and TV-shown magic. He then proceeded to perform the exact same hand gestures and mumbled words akin to my own in front of Papa Legba’s altar. So, technically, the bandana and the key charms are thrice blessed: Papa Legba, myself, and a five-year-old child learning at his mama’s knee.

The final bit was the most difficult part because I had to sew. I looked online for helping videos. I freaked out about it for the full twenty-four hour period the ingredients were busy gettin’ down with my OTHERS™. In the end, I just did what someone on Tumblr suggested, “Stab in one place, push it through, turn the needle around. Repeat.” I’m not going to show a picture of my really shitty sewing job, but it was pretty bad. However, I did it on my own even though TH offering to help since he took home ec and remembers weird things like how to sew. I closed the paket up with blue ribbon, also blessed by Papa Legba, with the thee key charms attached.

I can’t say if he’s enjoying its calming effects or not, but I’m pretty proud of myself on numerous fronts: I sewed. I created my first paket. I sewed. I was able to choose stones based on my gut. I sewed. And did I mention that I sewed?

---

For the last week, I’ve been exceedingly depressed. As I said on Tumblr earlier today, I have been in a habitual “AUBS SMASH” mode since last Saturday. (I’ll get into more specifics about last Saturday with my next section.) Usually, when I’m in this kind of funk, I can get away with doing a mental execration and be done with it. I don’t have to waste any spoons and I don’t have to worry about setting things on fire outside of a bar of busybodies. However, considering how completely prevalent my mood has been and how completely depressed I have been about everything, I knew I had to do a full-fledged rite on this. If not, I could very well end up sinking into as deep a depression as I’ve ever known. I did two specific execrations.

Consciously, I know it’s only a matter of time before Olga kicks it, but anything to stop the constantly frightening sounds/movements that accompany my drive to/from work.

My car is very old. If I’m remembering my insurance paperwork correctly, then she is a 2001. We just hit 180K on her odometer, but I really cannot afford a new one. I have very bad credit and when I made my money spell to get the job I have today, I never took into consideration the type of things that would be required for a car payment. So, until I actually go ahead and start doing magical work to afford a new car, Olga has to last me. It’s the only way we have to get anywhere and as much as I love TH’s mother, I do not want her to “donate” her BMW to us. (It’s shittier than my car. It was in a massive accident and the parts were not BMW parts to fix it. So. It’s not doing well at all.) As you can tell from the list of varying items that are wrong with her and the amount of gremlins I ritually destroyed on the paper, there is a lot wrong with her. Hopefully, I can get some of the stuff fixed cheaply, but in the mean time (A) no new gremlins and (B) the current ones have got to go.

I’m sorry, but you’re not allowed to know the names of people who piss me off. I may be execrating them, but announcing who they are to the world would be kind of rude.

On top of the car gremlins and that seriously heart attack-inducing situation, I have had a lot of very dark and angsty thoughts in the last week. None of them are a product of what happened on Saturday, but just the fact that I have been affected so spectacularly by what I cursed has allowed my anxiety to get a hold of me. I decided that it was pretty much time to nip that in the bud. I’m a quiet anxious person, not a loud, depressed, and anxious person. No one is supposed to know that I have “failure messages” I leave myself all the time or that I read into situations too often. So, all of that shit just had to go. And on top of that, the people whose names I’ve blocked off have been hurting me in various ways, so I needed to fucking stop that shit. And the best way to do that? Execrate them.

I know I say it a lot to various people, but I’m going to reiterate this right now. If you’re ever feeling low, depressed, angry, or anything, then you need to exercise your right to execrate. It is one of the most liberating and exciting forms of heka I have ever practiced in my life. The fact that I put it off for as long as I did before my first one makes me upset at all of the times I missed out on ritually executing my enemies or ritually destroying the very things that wound me. Seriously. If you are a Kemetic – shit, even if you’re not – you need to try this. If you do it once and don’t like it, well, I’ll think your fucking weird and insane. But, at least you tried it and saw how liberating it can be.

---

All right. The part that may induce some squeamishness in my readers. If you are not a curse kind of person, close out of this blog right now. Here goes.

As anyone who has been reading my blog for any length of time is aware, I was fired from my job in August of 2011. I was actually never given a reason as to why I was fired. As the company changed its story as to why I was fired in the four months I had to fight for unemployment a total of four times, I just assumed I had done something stupid and they didn’t want to say. The “official” reason, as of last count, was that I was that I had “allowed bullying” in my store. This is not true – no one bullied anyone in my presence. And the only bully was the old bitch who manned the counter during the day. She was a bully, but she was well-loved by the company, so it didn’t matter what I said or who I told. After months of soul-searching and deciding that my firing was probably in my best interest, I decided that I had actually been fired for failing to manage the store properly.

That would have been a valid reason, too, as this is an at-will work state, but they wouldn’t have been able to get me denied on my unemployment. (And for those not aware because you are newcomers, I got myself an unemployment lawyer and won my unemployment.) Now, when I was fired, they had also fired my worker, K, who was the supposed bully. K was pregnant at the time and they were probably really firing her because they wouldn’t have to hold her position open for the two months of FMLA provides for pregnant women. She’s in the middle of suing the company because, you know, pregnant and needed the job. But, she’s also got a discrimination card that I don’t: she’s half black.

Now, the woman who fired us was recently fired herself and had contacted my lawyer (who is also K’s lawyer) to get her unemployment. Of course she was denied because GREED, INC (the company) makes up a shit-ton of lies as to why they fire people. So, she contacted him and requested his assistance. He said he would only provide it if she gave a deposition stating implicitly why K was fired. K was able to read this deposition, although she has been asked not to reveal to me what it says because it will come up with I am depositioned by the Massachusetts Labor Board (who is investigating the asshole firing practices of this company for K’s lawsuit). I asked her if I was mentioned in the depo: yes. I asked her if it said why I was fired: no. I asked her if there were inferences as to why I was fire: yes. I asked her if she could tell me anything: technically no. But she inferred that was a casualty. The company wanted to fire K desperately (for reasons I cannot say) and I had to go because they had a ready made story in front of them when that fucking bitchcuntwhore ex-employee made up lies about us bullying her. (She made up the lies because she no called, no showed to her shift, which is an auto-quit in normal land.)

Let me repeat this: I was fired because they wanted to fire someone else.

There is no reason as to why I lost my job. There is no real reason as to why I have spent the last year and a half crying over the loss of income. I was depending on that to send my son to a private school. I was depending on that financial stability to maintain my family. I have lived in poverty and anguish for the last year and a half (prior to getting my new job) because the company wanted to fire a pregnant, half-black woman who was the best employee in the store. I have no legal recourse of action and Papa Legba showed me in a dream this week how futile it would be if I tried. I can only sit and stew and be really fucking angry.

So, I put my anger to good use.

Black paper for the vitriol I felt.

When I do a curse, I start with an execration first. Technically, execrations are curses unto themselves. But I don’t tend to view them that way, personally. The execration I went with here was initially just going to be black paper with black marker used to insinuate my hatred, pain, and desire to see justice done. I decided to make it visible only after the fact, so I had already written a good many things before finding a white colored pencil to finish the rest out. You’ll notice I wrote “LIAR” in three strategic places. These are above the names of the people who specifically had a hand in why I was fired (for no reason). I was going to add a fourth name – an ex-manager who sort of betrayed me when I was fired – but decided against it at the last minute. I think it’s better this way because I can just ignore the fact that the man was a piece of shit instead of the upstart manager he made himself out to be and he can be ignored for all eternity as far as I am concerned.

What I wrote for heka.

This is the actual curse outside of the contents of the jar. I have always utilized heka in my spell, which is then magnified by adding herbs and other bits. I’m going to recreate what I have written here so you can kind of see how very angry I am. “May your illegal business practices be found out by the proper authorities. May you lose customers and their money. May you be sued publicly for all of your racist/ablist/sexist firing practices. May your stores close their doors. May your food rot, your drinks go stale, may your beer go flat, and your cartons of cigarettes stolen. May your employees rise up against you. May you only be able to employ thieves and liars. May you be audited on your taxes. May you all know what it is to suffer in grief and poverty.” You can kind of tell I’m pissed off, maybe?

The final product.

I use jars for most of my magical workings. There’s something to the adage that “witches love jars.” I may not be a witch, but I sure do enjoy filling a jar with various items to help materialize my desires. I wrapped up my heka and attached it to a name tag I found while cleaning out my miscellaneous items drawer a while back. I, then, added a bunch of exciting ingredients to help materialize: urine, spit, blood, cayenne, chili, may apple, screws, nails, and vinegar. I was going to add a stiff bristled brush to “clean up” their business practices, but decided that letting them suffer for being such a shitty company was a better solution.

To top it all off, I drew the vévé of Kalfu on the top of the jar. I then added some black candle wax drippings to seal it all in. Currently, the jar is sitting on Aset’s altar while she “molds” it as Hekate once did for the curse I did a while back. As tomorrow night is supposed to be warmer than tonight, I will hike up the road to bury it properly then.

Update on Witchery.

So, part of my foray into the magical portion of my journey means that, periodically, I was going to take stock in how well the spells came out in a variety of ways. I also wanted to be absolutely sure that these spells were working properly before I considered adding them to the Book of Shadows that Hekate has ordered I create. I wasn’t going to just add a bunch of spells, not knowing if they would work properly to it. It’s better to do the scientific method and test the hypothesis before you write your paper in science circles, so why not in witchy circles as well? Thus far, I can say with 100% certainty that this whole spells-in-jars thing seems to be going well.

Taking Stock: Emotional
Prior to my current spells-in-jars thing that I have been doing, I followed the magical backgrounds that had been encoded into my practice when I was still eclectic by both the Sister and the EM. This meant writing a spell, adding herbal ingredients to seeing it through, and burning it into my cauldron. I recall quite frequently in those moments freaking out a lot about not having the “correct” ingredients. This induced a good deal of anxiety in me prior to spell crafting and I’m pretty sure, from what I’ve read and how I feel at the moment, that my anxieties regarding not being “properly prepared” was a large reason in why most of those spells have failed. I can’t say that is the definite reason for it, however, it seems to run in line with what I’ve read from more experienced magical practitioners and, you know, what my gut was always trying to say, which was, don’t do this spell because it won’t work because you’re freaking the fuck out.

Emotionally speaking, I was much more calm, cool, and collected about the spells I did. I think a part of this was because I had a framework that seemed to make more sense to me than the burning and throwing away ashes later method. Since I had the option to place these spells into jars that I had lying around, it made it feel, to me, more real and more magical all in one. I like being able to see and feel things – this is why I will refer to myself as an idolator a lot – and by not having the physical remnants of the spells at my disposal, I often would forget that they had taken place. So, if I was doing a money spell and burnt it all up, I would be less likely to go out and do the legwork – sending out resumes, filling out applications, etc – to make the money spell work. However, with the physical remnant left behind, I was more likely to focus my intentions on sending out the resumes, filling out the applications, and praying that it would be so.

(Just because you do a spell doesn’t mean you can’t break down in front of your altars, sobbing at your gods for making you suffer without money.)

I also didn’t worry as much about the “proper ingredients” in these two spells that I had crafted for myself. I think a part of this is age. When you’re first starting out, you tend very much to want to have “ALL THE THINGS” that you may need for spells, for altars, and you want all the very best. However, I think another part of this was because in my forays into Vodou, I’ve come to realize that sometimes, you just don’t have the fucking money. So, I have to say that a certain element of calming was some of the research I’ve done on a religion that has one of the poorest populations affixed to it. Another aspect that helped to calm me was my occasional looks into hoodoo, which is very practical on “using what you have to hand.”

All in all, on an emotional level, I was neither anxious, upset, or worried while performing either of these spells. I was much more calm, cool, and collected as I thought about what I wanted the spell craft to say. I was much more focused on seeing that it was completed because I had the physical reminder, which was also very soothing. I have to say, emotionally speaking, I succeeded admirably.

Taking Stock: Mental
Since I was planning these spells for a bit longer than a day or two before hand, my mental state was very much attuned to what I was doing. In previous magical forays, I tended to just fly by the seat of my pants when it came time to write the spells. However, in these past two cases, I had been plotting and planning prior to the actual magical endeavor itself for at least three days to a week beforehand. I think by having a general feel that I was going to be doing some magic in these two subjects, then it made life easier for me to have a calm head long enough to know exactly what aspects I felt needed to be execrated prior to the spell casting as well as knowing clearly what I wanted the actual spell to say.

Another aspect to this was my clear decision to jettison the rhyming thing. I’m very good at rhyming and whatnot, but this seemed very, uh, childish to me over the years. It also made spells appear more flowery and with less intent, in my eyes. With a feeling of just wanting a definite X, Y, Z to happen that is precisely what I wrote in my spells. I was very logical in regarding to what I wrote, as well, which is partially due to thinking about it for so much beforehand. I think another aspect to rhyming spells is that logistics don’t quite enter into it.

In a lot of magical practices, people will discuss getting into a “mental mindset.” If you’re feeling too woogaboo about things, then it’s recommended that you not do it. However, since I had been prepping myself for a few days to a week before hand, it made things easier. Instead of being tossed into a suddenly magical environment as could (and did) happen in my earliest pagan days, I was able to process that I would be making magic, that I had to continue in a mindset that worked for the magical endeavor I was taking on, and I think that really helped me out very well.

Taking Stock: Physical
I had heard numerous times that doing magical things could take it out of you in a physical way. One of my friends recently did some major magical undertaking and she ended up feeling a physical kind of pain in her third eye region. I’ve felt this in some instances in previous magical workings, such as after coming home from a “coven meet,” I would end up feeling very exhausted and wrung out. Sometimes, if the energy raised was high enough, it could even last into the next day or the day after.

However, in these two instances, I actually felt pretty keyed up after the actual undertakings. This was new to me; I had never felt these kind of energy explosion. In my Wiccish days, I had been told that things like Drawing Down the Moon would end up with me having a sudden caffeine like high, but I never experienced this previously. All in all, I ended up feeling wrung out and exhausted after the fact. While after my initial magical high did fade and I did feel like I needed to go to bed thereafter, I was still able to complete the magical endeavors (candle burning, mostly). I didn’t feel magically hungover the next day as I had on previous occasions. I’m not sure if this is because I had been preparing myself for some days before hand or if it’s due to a change in mental synapses or what, but it happened well.

I think part of the reason why I did not have any major physical backlash on these may also be because the endeavors were very focused and that they were focused intently on the object in question, in both cases a jar. However, I really cannot comment. I haven’t done any magical reading, nor do I intend to, on this particular instance. I do wonder, though, if a part of it also has to do with the fact that not only was I intent on what I was doing for days before hand, but also that I was working with gods and lwa during both instances. Could it be that because they were there to oversee what I was doing and in one case, aiding me, that the physical backlash wasn’t as intense?

Taking Stock: Results
A Curse.
The first spell I did was a curse. I’ve mentioned that results have actually happened, although they were not what I thought they would be. However, the results that I did actually want have come to pass. Specifically, when I wrote my spell, I wrote that I wanted the Sister’s mentally and emotionally abusive “roommates,” Eric and Sarah, to know nothing but suffering. As far as I have heard from the Sister, everything in their lives do seem to be pointing in this direction. All the two of them do is fight extensively between themselves about how Sarah “can’t do anything” because she “suffers from postpartum depression.” However, when things are done to aid her in getting passed this, she always goes on about how it’s “not so bad.” Even though they cannot clean themselves, they have not done laundry, they do not eat properly, etc etc etc, she claims that it isn’t so bad. As time passes with them in the Sister’s house, they do nothing but wallow in their own misery.

I call that a flaming success.

The one thing that I had thought may happen, but didn’t was that they would remove themselves from the Sister’s premises. As they are illegal house guests, they do not belong there. However, I did not write this into my spell at all. I was thinking more of visiting upon them the very horrors that they have done to the Sister – case in point, threatening to have her committed during a manic phase when that’s the least likely time she would hurt herself or others. (I see the constant arguments between Sarah and Eric regarding her mental health as “just desserts” here.) This made me aware of how very detailed and specific I need to be in future.

Some Money Magix.
The second spell was about bringing money into my home. The results to this one are one hundred percent in and I can say that the spell worked out perfectly. The spell itself was very detailed and specific. I was intent on making this spell about me going back to work, even though I could have done a dual spell or even two separate spells since TH is out of work as well. However, knowing the job industry that he works, I knew that I was more likely to procure a job so I made sure the spell was tailored specifically to me. And it very much works since I started my new job this past Wednesday, after being offered the job in question about a week after I did the spell.

Now, before anyone goes on about how awesome my magical skills are, let me just say this. Prior to doing the spell in question, I had been job hunting very seriously for about six months before I turned to magical endeavors to aid me with my job hunting. So let me just say to anyone new who wants to do magic: you can turn to this as an aid to getting what you desire, but you really need to do the work yourself in instances such as this. In arenas like money, love, career, and all of those fun things… you can’t just hope that magic will fix it all with a wave of a magical wand and some bippity-boppity-boo. As much fun as that sounds, we can’t rely on the Universe to fix everything for us because we command it in a very specific way. We still have to do the leg work.

While thinking about this particular aspect of taking stock, I realized that the spell I cast was very specific and that being very specific helped me out in the long run. I had been very intent on a drawing a specific amount of money into my home – $1200 a month – so that I could cover all household costs without worrying about whether or not TH was bringing in an income. The job that I am currently working has a pay rate that is almost exactly what I requested. Considering the fact that the job I really wanted to work was less than that and this job, which seemed interesting and I was capable of doing but I wasn’t as desirous of it as the one I just mentioned, I have to say that my spell did work. Even though I wanted to work at a yoga studio as a receptionist, something that I said or a gut instinct on behalf of that interviewer made it so that I did not get that job and so, the job that I got was the one that would cover the household expenses without any financial assistance from TH.

End Notes
All in all, I think I am getting the hang of this magical working thing. I believe that this is a clear indicator that whatever blockades I have had because of past life experiences and pre-shadow working endeavors are indeed working. I think this means that I am doing well with Hekate and that our work together is definitely showing results. I also believe that this whole witchy thing that I had been very leery of beforehand due to youthful mistakes is fading since I’ve done two spells in two months, which is a real fucking record around here after years of not bothering. I also think that by taking so much time in between each spell (about a month a piece), I’m able to reset any inner workings that may need to be reset prior to the new magical undertaking. I’m also able to see that results are being given in regards to my magical endeavors in between each undertaking as well. And I’m also able to shake off the mistaken urge that requires “proper ingredients,” transforming it into “proper words.”

All in all, considering the spells I’ve done, I think I am doing well and I think they are doing beautifully.

Some Money Magix.

I’ve always figured that once I got out of my magic-fixes-everything phase that I’d never end up going back. I always wanted to go back. I remember looking back at blogs and practitioners who could whip out some magix like it was going out of style and being incredibly jealous about it. I figured that as a recon practitioner, magix probably wouldn’t have too much to do with my practice. The Egyptian form of magix and the current form of magix didn’t seem like they would ever be able to meet comfortably at any point, either in the middle or on one heavier end of the spectrum. I’ll tell you this: I was wrong. And I’ll also add this: I’m just about ready to stop saying that I’m not a witchy or magical person. Almost. I guess we can thank both Aset and Hekate for that.

A little before I blew up at Papa Legba and Hekate for failing to take care of me, I heard both Aset and Hekate murmuring to me about how I should do some money magix. I was sorely skeptical that I didn’t dignify with an answer at first. What’s the point if everything fails? I asked whomever was listening. I was thinking, specifically, of the spell/curse I had done on behalf of the Sister. The two abusers are still very much living in her home and she doesn’t have much legal recourse unless that means her telling her landlord. (She seems to believe he will evict her along with them.) I pointed out how the spell I did has yet to show any results when I was forced to look, clearly, at the lives those two people are leading.

And… yes… I would have to say misery and suffering is definitely going on all over the place in their little home of three. All they do is argue, if what the Sister says is correct. And the arguments on cyclical, unending, and invariably end with the same result, her crying and telling him to shut up and his exasperation inevitably growing. And as Hekate pointed out to me in a twilight state, I never demanded that they leave the premises of the Sister. I only asked that they suffer as much as they’ve made her suffer, and then more than they can possibly bear.

Hm… This has taught me that I need to be a bit more careful and specific when it comes to magical things. I should probably be as clear as possible when doing spell craft. With that in mind, on the night of Yule, I decided to go ahead and do some of my own little money magix. I can’t recall the last time I did some, except that I’m sure it failed in some way or another. (I have various theories about that and I’ll get into it [again] at some future point since I have better theories than my last few.) I figured Yule was a good idea because there are lots of energies going into the Winter Solstice and Yule celebrations, as well as the fact that Fridays are my night with Hekate. It was like a double whammy of super awesomeness. I couldn’t ignore it.

All of the supplies I felt were necessary.

I will admit that when it comes to magical endeavors, I take what I gleaned from all of my years as an obsessive-compulsive asshole and put it into practice. Before I go about doing anything, I make sure I have all of the supplies I think are necessary. This includes anything off-the-cuff in my last-ditch efforts of wracking my brain for additions. I’m organized, but only so much. When it comes to magical endeavors, I very much enjoy not having a clear plan of action. I do not edit these into a BoS or anything (that may come later). I do not think about anything more intently than whatever heka I work into spell form on whatever I am thinking of. That’s the extent of my planning and plotting besides deciding to do some magix and deciding what happens to the jar after the fact.

I feel it is very freeing.

This is my execration for the job situation.

I was told by a few people that I have some blocks up and that’s part of the reason why I am having trouble with the job thing. I don’t know what those particular blocks are, however. I have ideas, but there are so many possibilities besides my own head and issues that I decided to draw a faux brick wall for the execration I utilized prior to the jar spell. Around the image, I wrote words that I felt helped to continue my own blocks, such as doubt, fear, and unqualified. These are things I have to swallow back whenever I apply for a job, thinking that I won’t get it because I didn’t graduate from college even though the experiences and work history I have clearly denote me as adequately able to perform the tasks necessary. Across the top of the brick wall, I wrote unknown blockages and then I coated the hell out of the Clear Away Evil oil that SilverShadow from The Pagan Rapport created for me.

The smell of the oil was wonderful, by the way. I recommend it.

Do you see that wicked blade? It’s best for stabbing things.

It burned so hot, there was very little ash left over.

I did the usual working one does with execrations. I stomped on the blocks. I spat at them. I crumbled it all into a ball. And then I stabbed the ever-loving shit out of it. I felt like I was pulling that damn wall down, brick by brick, with each passing swipe of my hands or feet or spittle. And then, I took that bad boy outside to burn. It burned for all of five minutes and it was entirely gone by the time I brought the whole thing back inside to add to my jar. I actually had to use a small brush to get as much of the ash into the jar as I could. There was very little clean up, which was exciting. It made me feel like I was going the right track.

I cannot express this enough: Doing an execration against the things that bother you, hurt you, or need to be removed is really the best magix. This is why I start my spells with execrations and why I add the ashes to the jar. It’s all about symbolism. I’m destroying whatever the fuck is in the way and I’m putting that destruction into the jar to help the intent manifest by showing the intention that whatever was causing the blockage is gone now.

Is that logic? Oh, yeah, man. Logic has its place in this magical scene, too, you know.

For two dollars, I have a half-inch stack of fake money.

A day or two before I did my magix, I had gone out to find some cheap ass votive candles so that I could use them in any future magical workings. I knew that this was a turning point: by doing a money magix jar, I was openly stating to Hekate and Aset (the two who need to hear it and want to hear it) that there would be future endeavors of this nature. At iParty, I found that they sell votives for fifty cents each. They only had one green votive, so it was like fate. While I was there, I also picked up a pack of fake money since I was doing a working for money. Again, it comes down to symbolism. Utilizing my heka, I carefully wrote in green ink across the million dollar bill, to bring steady income ($1200/month) to my life and home.

I was very careful about placing an exact amount in there. I could survive easily on less, but I wanted to place that much in there in case TH isn’t able to get unemployment and the things he is working on with his father don’t pan out properly. I figure, this way, I’m making sure that I can make our lives without any other type of financial resources.

I added personal items of mine: hair and fingers nails.

I also added gold coins to sink the point home.

I read somewhere that if you want to make a homing device for spells to work, you need to add portions that represent you. There is nothing that represents a person better than their hair and fingernail clippings. It seemed like the best way to get this hunter-seeker spell going. After that, I also added two chocolate, gold coins. This was to reinforce the point that I need money and I need it pretty badly, but to also sweeten the deal. There’s something about the reek of desperation, but you know, chocolate always makes things better.

Herbs, yo.

I added herbs because I have a shit ton of them and it seems like a waste to just keep them in my cabinets, looking all useless. But in all honesty, I really enjoy herbal magic. I like to make little sachets for specific purposes. If I had an unlimited supply of lavender, for example, I would always have a lavender sachet around me because I love the scent and its very calming (and I am actually not very much of a calm person). For the herbs in this particular spell, I chose may apple, alfalfa, allspice, patchouli, clove, and tea. Some of the associations for the herbs I chose are from a Cunningham book while others stem from a more hoodoo-like perspective.

The candle, burning bright for the next fifteen hours.

When I felt that I had all that I needed in there, I added a few drops of Crown of Success oil from SilverShadow. I then capped the whole shebang and placed it on Hekate’s altar. I anointed the green candle I had bought for this phase with the same oil and watched it burn for the next few hours. It was halfway done when I snuffed it for the night. The next day, it was only a matter of time before it melted down. Unfortunately, as much as I wanted to bury it, it snowed and then I had a crazy couple of days.

I did end up burying the jar in the backyard so that it will take root. I’m lucky I chose when I did because a few hours later, a bunch of snow was dumped on us.

Can you guess where my spell is? I know.

A last little tidbit. I know that I’ll be moving, probably, within the next couple of months. (And not for the reasons that people may think.) With that in mind, I couldn’t help but wonder what I was supposed to do with the jar itself. I knew I didn’t want to leave it behind – kind of like how I am loathe to leave the land spirit behind. So, I asked a witchy friend of mine on Tumblr, Witchling, what the hell I was supposed to do with the damn thing if/when I moved. I’m reproducing her entire response for anyone who ends up in a similar boat as me.

If you’re burying it in the yard so it will draw money to the property, you should dig it up and rebury it wherever you move to. But allow us to indulge an urban witch’s tendency to think through the symbology of a thing for a moment.

You’re burying the jar so that it will bring something to you, essentially “planting” it. Thus, should you move and simply dig it up, you could kill it in the “transplanting” of it. A “dead” money jar might simply not do its job, or it might actively repel money.

Thus, whatever the jar “takes root” in needs to come as well, so that the jar can be “transplanted” properly. This might involve anything from simply digging up the dirt around the jar as well, to wrapping it in something you consider insulating to keep it “alive” and then blessing it or renewing the magic on it when you replant it so it will “grow” as before.

A Curse.

I’m not a very witchy person. I want to be, but I find it difficult to let myself go long enough to do adequate spellcraft. Also, since people make fun of my spells for rhyming (I can’t help it; I am as much a poet as a novelist) I don’t tend to do things in a public venue. This is part of the reason why I’ve been working with Hekate. Past-self was witchy. Past-self was down with intuition and spells. I wanted to work with Hekate to get out of this rut to, at least, be amenable to utilizing spells if the need should arise. This is why I’ve been writing my Magical Cure series: my past traumas have been doing a good job of holding me back (amongst other things).

This week, I got sick to death of the Sister’s living situation. I’ll give some back story here since I don’t really discuss real life events too much. In March, she willingly allowed a couple and their newborn to move into her apartment for three months. The verbal agreement was specific: they could live on her dime for those three months, as they were facing homelessness. They had three months to find a living situation that wasn’t taking over the Sister’s living room and home. They still live here, nine months later. She has been slowly going insane at the hands of these manipulative, disgusting, filthy assholes who are abusing her generosity and kindness. They have sent her to the hospital once. They threatened to have her Backer Acted during a manic phase because they were “worried” she “would hurt” herself or someone. (Of all the times to be worried about that, a manic phase is not one of them.) Over the months they have driven her slowly insane and abused her mentally and emotionally.

Now a month ago, this was supposed to be over. She had given them a letter in September or October, stating implicitly that they had to be out November 1. This letter was to get housing and welfare to aid them. However, these abusive fucktards told their case workers that they had a legal lease with the Sister’s landlord and so, the letter was ignored by the case worker. I believe that the case worker said something like, “This isn’t a letter from your landlord so it is a moot point.” They believe that they have the law on their side. However, they have no legal lease, are house guests that have overstayed their welcome. And as I’ve said, they have abused her mentally and emotionally. So, the Sister gave them until December 1 and then, she unleashes her two best friends (myself and someone else) onto these two. The Sister has been purposely holding the two of us back, knowing we will throw out their things and possibly be arrested. Neither one of us give a shit. Those assholes need to go.

After the Sister’s break down last Friday, I decided that I was done. I am unable to do anything to these people physically, mentally, verbally, or emotionally because the Sister has given them their stay of execution. However, that doesn’t mean that I can’t do things magically. After I watched the look on the male house guest’s face when I came over to fix whatever he did to her last Friday, I was done. MOTHERFUCKING DONE. As people seemed interested to see what I came up with, here’s my post regarding the curse I performed on the two people who are MENTALLY AND EMOTIONALLY ABUSING SOMEONE WITH BIPOLAR DISORDER because they can.

First, I started with a general execration rite. Normally, I don’t do physical execrations unless I’m celebrating the New Year (Wep Ronpet) or I’m in a pretty dire situation. Most of my execration rituals end up being visualizations in my head. As much as I’ve done that regarding these two assholes, I knew that I couldn’t just leave it as it was. I had to do something physically to focus my rage and anger. Too often when I’m thinking about these people, I get so hopping mad that I start ranting and raving. So, I needed to focus that fuel to add to my curse. The following pictures are the execration, itself.

I took a red crayon and scribbled their names on it. I then placed all the things I think of when I think of them, such as “filthy,” “liars,” “abusers,” etc. I then scribbled the fuck out of all of that with glittery crayons.

I then stomped on the paper with both feet, as well as jumped on it. I let my son do this as well since he thought it was a game. I envisioned stomping on their faces while I did this.

I will admit that when I do execrations, the amount of release are completely palpable. I don’t do them as often as I think I should, but this is because I never really know exactly how I want things to flow when I do them. Also, honestly, doing them in my head isn’t nearly as stress-relieving as physical representations. It’s really no wonder that the ancient Egyptians did this. If you ever, ever have a moment where you are so stressed out and angry, then I highly recommend doing this. If for no other reason than for the next two images, below.

After stomping, I crumbled it up into a ball, grabbed my butcher knife, and stabbed away. I made sure the knife went through their names the most. After stabbing, I cut and slit into the paper with much glee.

Afterwards, I set the thing on fire. It went up in flames within two minutes. This was all that was left of my execration.

People think about hitting things or punching pillows or screaming along to loud music to make themselves feel better. I’ll admit that I do this stuff, too. After a long hard day at work, I’ll blast some really angry, loud music and just let it fill up my angry soul. The thing is that sometimes, you just need to do the physical. Sometimes, you just need to have a representation of what is bothering you. A friend of mine told me that she was getting pissed off with the area that she lives in and so, execrated the fuck out of a map of her town. I mean, yeah, it doesn’t fix the problem at large. However, it sure as fuck relieves some stress.

Since I was doing more than just execrating, my next step was to make some representations. I was putting all of this stuff in a canning jar I had lying around for just such a purpose. (You will never know how often I debate cursing something or someone and never actually bother to do it.) I drew a really awful set of people pictures. I mean, it’s really no wonder I’m not an artist as you can tell by the picture. On top of coloring in their hair color appropriately and writing their names on their chests, I also wrote out what I wanted to see happen to them. In this aspect, I worked with heka. I was very mindful of my words and how much rage I had inside of me. Shunting that rage into my marker, I wrote out exactly what I wanted to see happen to them. Oh, and by the way? Normally, if I take pictures of my execrations, I will blur out the names I may be execrating. In this case, I am not because I don’t care if anyone knows that these two people are ABUSIVE TOWARDS PEOPLE WITH MENTAL HEALTH DISORDERS. So, curse away if you see fit.

That reads, “May your lives be ruined. May you only feel the pain you cause others. May you know the abuse you have thrown out by 3, by 6, and by 9. MAY YOUR LIVES BE SUFFERING.” I chose 3, 6, and 9 at Papa Legba’s behest.

I tucked those little beauties into the jar I had designated. Then, I set about pulling out some very important ingredients.

The ingredients were chili pepper, cayenne pepper, nails, may apple, table pepper, screws, spit, urine, vinegar, scratched up money, hot sauce, graveyard dirt, and sour/rotting grapes.

With each aspect of the ingredients I chose, I went with symbolism. Part of heka in ancient Egyptian practices is symbolism, but a lot of it is also intent. With each aspect that I tossed in there, I thought of what it would represent. I chose my urine and spit because these are things I would like to be able to do to these people. They are less than, to me. I threw nails and screws in there, two-fold. I want them to be “screwed,” but I also want them to know nothing but pain until they atone for their sins against my best friend. This will probably never happen as they believe that they are “right” to be abusive. So the sharp implements were to feeling the prickings of the pain that they will get back to them. I added may apple because I read somewhere that it gives power in poppets and representations. I chose table pepper, chili pepper, cayenne pepper, and hot sauce because I want them to be in constant discomfort. I want their lives to be painful in the extreme, not just in the physical sense, but in the mental sense as well. I chose vinegar because I want their lives to sour. I scratched up a coin and threw it in there because I want them to suffer monetarily, as well. The grapes were a last minute touch that I added so that all their food tastes rotten in their mouths, that it always goes bad, and so that they are always singing praises to their sour grapes. Finally, I added graveyard dirt from both the Bawon and Manman’s graves to seal the deal.

This is what it looked like before I sealed the jar. It was pretty fucking disgusting: everything I want their lives to be.

I placed the jar on Hekate’s altar since, you know, that’s her thing. I placed black tourmaline on either side to keep the negativity in the jar. I also added hematite. (Dunno why.) I started burning a black candle on top to seal the shit in there.

So the black candle I chose to seal in the curse was actually a waxless candle. I had to actually hold the thing above the jar until it was covered to my satisfaction.

I had a hard time deciding what to do with it. Initially, I had figured I would bury it at a crossroads. Papa Legba was urging me, but I kind of dithered. While I’m not normally a very intuitive person about this kind of thing that’s where the crossroads idea came from. When I asked on Tumblr to see what others did with curse jars/bottles, no one responded. I figured the Universe (Papa Legba and Hekate, as well) were trying to tell me that my first feeling was the best way to go about it. However, after a quick doubt, I ended up looking up hoodoo ideas for some of the darker workings a conjure person can or will do. Most of the suggestions didn’t resonate with me: they were all about throwing the jar away from you. While I would have preferred to bury this bad boy beneath these assholes’ front steps, per hoodoo, they’re soon to be homeless, so… That’s not feasible. I had to figure something else out.

Nearly finished product.

After talking with Devo about it, I realized that my first instinct was pretty fucking spot-on. She asked me if I wanted it to be a double whammy all at once or a long drawn out curse. I told her that long and drawn out was the way to go, which is why I ended up going with the burial. Think of it in terms of symbolism: you throw a grenade to get a sudden, quick effect. You bury a land mine to take out as many as possible and be quiet about it. I didn’t want a sudden, quick and vicious attack on these two abusive fuckers. I want it long, drawn out, and utterly fucking painful. The Sister can demand emotional currency from them with her curses; I will take everything else on her behalf.

I don’t think you can see it so well, but there’s a veve in there.

Mait’ Carrefour, payment.

Before I left to carry out the burial, Kalfu showed up in my head. Now, I’ve had workings with Mait’ Carrefour before. He is the Petro aspect of Papa Legba. He is also the “grand master” of charms and sorceries. In voodoo, a hungan who travaillant des deux mains (“working with both hands”) is pretty much frowned upon. Sorcery in this way isn’t very well received, although it is practiced. It’s probably a good thing I’m not a hungan or mambo because I have no problems cursing people. Since Kalfu works with “evil loa,” if he shows up, you better fucking listen. And I knew that, with what I was doing, it was his domain that I was encroaching in, not Papa Legba. This was sorcery, plain and simple. This was me, travaillant des deux mains, plain and simple. And I was fine with that.

You see, I’ve worked with this lwa before. He’s as much admitted that it was he who ruined my job last year because Papa Legba was “too patient.” While I didn’t appreciate what he came in and did, it was necessary. There was absolutely nothing I would have done to do what either aspect of Legba wanted. So, Carrefour took care of it for the both of us. We’ve discussed this and he leaves me be. As long as I honor him now and again, with little bits and pieces, he’s fine. He demanded payment for last night’s late night burial. He wanted a shot of rum. He understood gunpowder was out of the question (Kalfu is saluted with rum laced with gunpowder), so he took the Kraken rum instead.

So, endeth my cursing spree.

Curses.

Have you ever had a moment in your life where all the shit gets rolling down hill and you begin to wonder if you’ve been cursed? I’m going through a phase like this right now. I don’t, you know, legitimately feel like I merit high enough on anyone’s radar to be cursed. Honestly, in the cases of curses or negative wanga or what have you, I think it mostly ends up being someone’s hurbis talking as opposed to someone actually sitting down to do some real work on you. I don’t know. I guess… I just feel like… well, I just feel as though I’m living in this quote from, The Mummy Returns.

Jacques: This place… is cursed.
Red: What is it with you and curses?
Spivey: He ain’t happy without a good curse. This is cursed. That is cursed.

You ever just feel that way?

Coincidences Mark My Life, Or Magic PT2.

Just prior to my last post, I decided I needed to some serious work on myself. I am a fucked up individual in various arenas and these are things that have been holding me back in my spiritual life, as well as my waking life. It’s at the point where I know I need to do more than putting one foot in front of the other. The advice works, to a degree. I’m at the point where just living is no longer what I desire or need. I need more than just the ability to wake up every morning, alive, and go to sleep every night, still alive. I need to do more than just simply survive, in effect. I’ve known this for a while, but I’ve always managed to push back on the whole process. “Well, I’m busy raising my kid right now,” or “I can’t work on this because my spiritual practice is more important right now.” I have all manner of excuses. This is part of the whole “magic is a no-no” thing I mentioned in my previous post. I don’t need to work on it if I’m not good at it because I have serious fucked up issues that hold me back. The thing is, though, that I said I’d start working on that a few months ago. And look how far I’ve gotten?

Nowhere.

So, during all of this finding stuff going on about myself, Sky offered some oracular sessions on behalf of Hekate to anyone who was interested. It seemed kind of coincidental that she would be offering this when I was already wondering if my self-esteem issues were as intrinsically tied to me lack of witchy stuff or not. And she was offering them for free! I’m a big believer in free things and so, told her that I was up for it even though I’ve had absolutely no connection with her goddess, ever. She sent me an E-mail and I asked her, “I’m wondering if it should be my working on my self-esteem and repressed issues that would lead me back towards witchcraft OR, if it’s the practicing of witchcraft that will lead to my fixing my repressed issues.” This was about as easy to think up as an entirely new idea for my book has been (yes, I’m re-thinking my book past all the suggestions people have given me). But it was the best I could come up without coming right out and saying, “Hey. I’m fucked up. How is this keeping me back? How do I fix it?” I didn’t want to have to say to a goddess the same as I’ve been saying to all of my online friends: HOOOOOOOOW?!?!?!?

Besides, I figured based on the answer, I might figure that part out on my own.

So, after the Sister told me, last night, about doing the magical solidarity thing, I pretty much was just like, “Well, fuck.” And I told her about the oracular session I as having with Hekate via Sky. She said that was pretty damn fortuitous and good timing, more or less. Yeah, yeah. I put my phone away after our conversation and just stared at the ceiling until I finally fell asleep last night. When I woke up, I had my response from Hekate/Sky.

Two questions are entwined, unescapable. She wanders at crossroads, stumbling into stones that are My domain. Looking at herself she sees the good and the bad, but only on the surface, never looking at where both take root. She doesn’t see the core, the potential fate and fortune have shaped and will shape, what gods’ eyes see when They look into her. Until this is true, she will always listen at her shadow more than she listens to everything else, even her sun.
In witchcraft, she needs to look into the ways of the wisewoman, this is where her talent can be discovered and nurtured, not in places where she is already uncomfortable.
I am not her mother, but I can lead her to the Path if for one complete lunar month and one day, every day she will give me her consent to. Because prayer is consent and consent opens the door. The heart is starved and full with rage – it needs to be settled before impasses can break.

Well. Well. Well. Fuck.

I’m not quite sure what all of it means, but I do understand the last part about the rage. I remember a long time back when I was working on myself, back when the Sister, EM, and I were all a part of a coven. I remember working deeply on myself after the EM said that I was “full of rage.” (Can you tell why they didn’t want me associating with Sekhmet or anything?) She said it was consuming me and that if I didn’t try to get rid of it, somehow, I would be completely consumed in a few years. I’d like to think that the starter I did back then as managed to keep the consumption of rage at bay. I’d like to also think that, at this stage, with the ability and willingness to see that I need more than what’s been sustaining me that I am also doing what I can to keep it from raging (no pun intended) out of control.

The parts that I’m not sure about are the (a) listening to the shadow versus the sun, (b) who my ‘mother’ is, and (c) whether I want to dedicate for a month. How would I even do that? Do I even want to do that? And to answer that… yes, in part at least. This is something that has been coming for a while and I know that I need to work on these things, and that they are, as Hekate makes it seem, tied together in some way or another. In giving her a month and a day, I could probably make further strides than I would if doing it alone. But, is prayer enough? Is thinking about her enough? What else do you do to dedicate to a goddess who you know little to nothing about for a month and a day? And when do I start that? The new moon? And and and.

Questions. Questions.

I’m not very good at reading signs, honestly. If that were the case, I probably wouldn’t have just scrapped all of my last sets of Tarot readings. They were all confused and mishmash, multi-responses to various aspects of my life. It left me more than confused, but hostile towards my cards and under the impression that divination, presently, isn’t something I should be doing. If I had been paying more attention to myself, I probably would have pulled out the Well Worn Path cards I own and worked with those… as I felt the need to do so this morning when I woke up, prior to receiving my E-mailed response.

The Master Weaver is working in this direction with aids from gods I’ve only heard about in passing. What is he up to? And how is this supposed to fix me?

Relevant Posts

1. Part One.
2. Witchy Path Forging.