In the midst of all the things, remember you are magick.
Sometimes, I just need a pep talk. So I’m writing this for me.
So I can come back when I feel my motivation waning.
My hope wilting.
My dedication weary.
But also for you.
In the swimmy song of time. In the currents of your life to this point.
I commend you on getting through. Muddling through. Napping through. Snacking through. Binge watching through. Making it through to this moment.
Fear Brings Me Back, Beauty Brings Me Forward
I got an email from Modern Women Projects a while back, and this poem was at the end:
“I take myself back, fear.
You are not my shadow any longer.
I won’t hold you in my hands.
You can’t live in my eyes, my ears, my voice, my belly, or in my heart my heart
my heart my heart
But come here, fear
I am alive and you are so afraid
― Joy Harjo, “I Give You Back”
One of the things I think about when a week turns into so many confusing, upsetting, though not surprising, events is my relationship to fear.
My first response is to deny things are happening. Then I do research to learn all that I can. I look at post after post, as though it will somehow tell me the things I need to know and need to be safe.
But I don’t know what’s going on. The news tells me what they think I want to hear or what they know people will read.
So, I need to challenge my fear in another way.
By letting it be. Letting it pull up a seat and rest for a minute. Let it be just a feeling that is part of me in that moment, a certain influence that I could use to my benefit — or my detriment.
Or if can just be. The racing heart. The sour stomach. Feelings I know in joy and beauty too. Sometimes my heart races when I am so very happy. When I achieve something big. My stomach can roll around and rumble when I’m finally doing the thing that I’ve wanted to do my whole life.
But fear can make me stuck in circles and thoughts that serve only themselves, to propagate themselves into bigger and bigger fears.
So, I stop. I wait. I let fear arrive, but I do not offer it a snack. It can sit beside me, but it’s just for a visit.
Beauty is due to arrive.
And perhaps is already here.
Make room. Open the door.
Delight Magick One, Even Now
Like a spell, like a prayer, like a poem, like a song that just comes from within, you are magick. You are change and you are movement. The energy of cells and the culmination of bodies to bring you here. Into this life. Into this world.
When beauty arrives, it doesn’t travel. It just becomes clearer. Its definition changes. Maybe beauty isn’t about the right colors or the smoothest curves. Maybe today beauty is the way a piece of paper falls to the ground. Or the scent of a freshly-cleaned countertop.
Prepare to open your eyes to it. Take yourself back from fear. Even if it’s just for a moment. Or a minute.
Or a morning.
Make room for beauty to be seen. To be witnessed. To be known. To be held in all of the aching places that still haven’t had a chance to fully heal because this world seems to rip them apart over and over.
Take a breath.
Look around. Or feel the space around you. Or move just one finger.
Get through. Get back to beauty.
Get back to joy, even if that’s a quick visit.
Remember that joy and beauty exist too.
And you are the magick that brings them alive and present.
You are intention. You are sacred space. You are the elements and the godds. You are the spell. And you are the rising up and traveling out.
You are time between time. Above and below. Within and without.
You are the nourishment of the feast. And you are the guest at the table that always has enough to drink and to eat.
You are the long dances into the night or morning.
You are the falling down on the ground because you love the way the earth holds you after you sing to the sky and the trees for hours.
You may not be in the circle. You may not be in the arms of those who make you laugh harder than anything and anyone.
You may not be in the place you want to be.
But you are magick.
Please don’t forget.