While I am intimidated by a blank journal page, I am ecstatic about fresh starts. I am grateful with the shifting of the moon and the way there’s a chance to let go, take in, and rest in what is. To look deeply in the mirror.
What I’ve learned is that reflection takes intention. What I know better today is that stopping to consider, to breathe, and to be what is true will get me to a place of knowing far quicker than pushing at an answer.
It takes a mirror to show me what is right in front of me.
As I begin to hear the song of the light returning, I remember.
Practices I’ve Loved and that Have Loved Me
I started a journal at one point this year. While I’ve tried to track progress through apps on my phone, that action didn’t have the same resonance or impact as a check mark on a piece of paper.
(And, true to form, the first page was the toughest.)
I made a checklist each week of what I wanted to accomplish:
- Daily practice
- Daily promise
I’ve talked a lot about daily practice (and I’m sure I’ll talk about it a lot more as it continues to evolve). This is the foundation for me. And even when I skipped a day or two, I knew it was there to welcome me back.
It was always the same. And some days, I went through the motions. Some days, I added in prayers that calmed my heart or that solidified my energy. (Thanks Iron Pentacle!)
I’ve also begun to make promises to myself. Small ones. Ones that are so insignificant I feel it’s a little silly. After all, this one-minute promise can’t possibly help my magick or my center. But ego is loud and wants to keep the status quo.
Inspired by a few books I’ve read and some Instagram accounts, I started to give myself a chance to show up for myself. Maybe it was a promise to do my daily practice. Or maybe it was a promise to avoid sugar for one day.
It adds up, these promises. It adds up to trust and groundedness and knowing that when all else is overwhelming, you are there. You will not abandon yourself.And then the body. The temple. The vessel. Move that body in a way that feels good. Do it with another person. Do it to music. Do it because it feels good for the blood to move a little quicker. For my lungs to work a little harder. Move in the space of this beautiful world, even when it’s not so beautiful.
Water. Always water.
The Mirror of Pleasure & Love
I’m an anxious person. Well, one of my therapists says that’s not true, but I think it is certainly an influencer in my life and my magick. I so easily give of myself for another. I want to offer and offer and offer. I have things to offer.
But that offering can so easily slide into duty. Into necessity. Into a sacrifice that feels unbalanced. And while sacrifice is certainly sacred, I also know I need to give to myself to give of myself.
Fun often looks like moving my body. Or it looks like taking an afternoon in bed to accomplish nothing outside of watching ‘reality’ shows. Or it looks like losing myself in a book.
There is always work to be done. And there is also always play. I have taken more time for fun. For looking at blank journals that hold possibility. For eating that cookie. For laughing with a friend.
Pleasure for pleasure’s sake. Not even for trying to fit it in so I can feel replenished enough to do more…just having fun. Because I’m alive. And even when the world is burning, I can take a few moments to remember to smile. To come back to a moment that is perfectly wondrous.
Looking in the mirror, I see a much more angled face, shadowed by time and experience. But the dimples of my smile are deeper. And proof of learning the depth of magick that isn’t always out loud and Instagrammable.
Sometimes, it’s the inner work. This work of the Witch. This love spell of life.
One blank page at a time. One more lingering glance in the mirror.