Charged by the Goddess
Whether I’ve been facilitating or working magick, I’ve noticed the way my mouth and mind have wrapped around wondering and wandering.
Wide open words that invite in the realm of possibility and potential, the noticing of what’s here right now. Maybe it’s the stillness of this timeline or the repetition of waking up, working, talking, connecting, and then moving into slowing down before sleep.
I notice the pauses these days. I recognize the patterns. I can feel the different texture of magick that is ongoing, revealing, and arising in different ways.
It is not the practice of steps or correspondences. It is not the study of this goes before that. It is the study of falling in love with the world as it is.
Because that cultivates hope.
That invites resolve and resilience.
That loosens me when I’ve too firmly planted my feet in a particular spot.
Maybe all the wondering and wandering is how I track the loss and the rediscovery of awe.
Stepping into Unknown Delights
Awe is the feeling of reverential respect mixed with fear or wonder, according to Oxford.
I can’t think of a better word for the first moment I met magick. Felt it on my skin. Had no idea what was going to happen next. Didn’t want to know. Didn’t care to know. I just wanted more.
Years into my practice. Years into finding the Witch I am and the one I thought I would become, there is a sense of jadedness. Anticipation into steady expectations. The ritual of ritual. The understanding of what happens when I move this way. Or forget to tend to my altars.
It’s not about knowing. It’s about closing to any other experience. It’s about believing there is only this — and nothing more. There is only what I know.
It is the sharp surrender into complacency.
At first, it tasted like relief. It smelled of comfort because anything out of the ordinary was a mistake I made. Or a moment I misinterpreted. Or that I had someone failed the godds.
That’s trauma talking. That’s experience and doing what I’m supposed to do versus what calls me next. What calls me forward. What asks boldness of me.
What asks for trust.
Returning to the Shores of Magick
This is not to say that my magick isn’t real or that I don’t show up or that I am faking my way through.
But I wonder if this is what happens when I settle because I think that’s all I deserve. Or it’s all I could handle or want.
What does this mean to magick? What might this mean for you? I think of a heavy-handed landing page on a site that wants you to buy the latest gadget.
Are you feeling lost?
Are you feeling disconnected?
Are you left wondering if this is all there is?
Sure, sometimes. More often lately.
Where did I put that awe? That delicious space of fear and down-on-my-knees delight? When did I forget that I am a very small being in a very large experience?
When did I forget the ocean?
When did I stop having vertigo on a mountain or a queasiness when looking deep into a canyon?
How can I bring that back? How can I remember?
If You are Feeling Lost…
It’s the telling of La Loba that comes into my mind. The story of Bone Woman who seeks out the bones and arranges them and sings them back to life until they become a wolf and then a woman who runs free to the horizon.
My favorite part is the end of the telling I know.
Go to the places where you can become a little lost.
Go to the wide places to find yourself smaller. Recognize yourself in the place you are.
Go to the smaller places of flower petals and a spiderweb that fits between two blades of grass.
Look up at the stars. The clouds. The coming rain.
Look down at the impressions of your feet or the boots of another.
Travel to the unfamiliar, even if it’s just your brain or lay on the cold floor until your bones are chilled.
Fall in love with the moment. Again and again and again.
Tap into the spell that you already are. The one that continues to unfold. Mysterious. Scary.
True.
And rest in the feeling of awe. Of not knowing and still knowing.
Go to the center of your wonder.
You will find yourself again.
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