I have heard it said more than once lately that most witchcraft has become nothing more than fluff. I think this school of thought comes about because there are some out there who aren’t willing to see past their own noses. The Craft comes in all shapes and sizes. I have come to realize, through my journey, that there are as many types of witchcraft or paganism as there are dialects…nationalities. Are any of them 100% right? Completely and not at all. What may be the right path for one person, may be completely wrong for someone else. Out of all of my friends, none of us practice our Craft exactly the same.
Now I have friends who practice “Love and Light.” I also have friends who practice shamanism…others who practice Voudou…others who practice chaos magick. Do I understand all of these areas of the Craft? No…I don’t even pretend to….but I don’t discount the power in any of the methods. To me, magick is like a recipe. Everyone and their brother is going to have a different way of making a recipe. They are all going to taste different and look different…but you still call a cake, a cake. As long as the work is put in, there will be results.
As I have said before, I tend to be my own worst enemy. My body or thoughts or something is going to try to get in my way. I tend to be that person who will walk, but constantly look behind. As I told someone today, constantly looking behind us only causes us to stumble over ourselves. This week, I have been having a time with the things that tend to come with getting old. Things like this always seem to happen when something new surfaces in my life. I am in the midst of a new position at work and also in preparation for the possibility of moving to London in a couple of years to start a new office. My knees have taken the wonderful opportunity in the past two weeks to feel as though they are crumbling. I know that it is more than likely some arthritis kicking in, but they still hurt.
My first thought was to sit and complain and to focus on the pain, but the golden tongue of Maluna kept resonating in the back of my head. I went out on Thursday night, bought a knee brace and some Aleve and have been plugging on. I have found that plugging on keeps your brain from being pre-occupied with how it feels…and once I am engaged in other things, the pain isn’t as bad. Am I hard-headed? Yes, but there is too much to accomplish. I don’t have the time or the energy to sit and whine….and yes I know there are many witches out there that are the exact same way. I have friends who deal with fibromyalgia, depression…etc. Do you think any of that slows them down? Not in the least. Witches are a strong-willed bunch.
Last night, our air conditioning broke. Now for late July in Georgia, that is not a good thing. As I lay in bed perspiring with the fan pointed toward the dogs and cats and my partner, I wanted to whine. Being a child of Lughnassadh (meaning I was born on August 1st), one would think that I would be a child of the sun….relishing the warmth that it brings through that harvest. Not on your life. I do not like to feel hot….can’t stand that nasty wet feeling of humidity. That is why I retreat to the woods….so that I am covered by a canopy of leaves…can feel the coolness of the leaf strewn ground. I happened to have only gotten an hours worth of sleep last night in that glorious sweat inducing room, so I lay there and tried to ponder magickal things.
My mind went to different potions I could make….different spells to write and try…my mind even pondered shape shifting. By 5am, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I woke Friz up and we went for an early trek to the woods. This morning, however, I had to grab my staff. My knee was acting up like nobody’s business. I had to laugh. Now as we walked, Friz was the one walking normally and I was the one gimping along. I told him that we were just like the old wizard and his wolf walking the path of the ancients. I heard my grandma laugh in my ear, “Anybody else would have gone to the doctor. You are one hard-headed something!” I have lived most of my life with most of my family and those close to me thinking I was hard-headed. Everyone around me knew better than to ever tell me that I couldn’t do something….I would die trying. My granny told me that she knew when I was little and asked her about flying…the minute she told me I couldn’t that I would be right on top of that barn. I think back now and it is an absolute miracle that I have made it to be as old as I am.
Once we made to the woods, I sat down and breathed in the smell of the air around me. The woods never smell stale or stagnant to me….there is always movement and newness there. I came needing communion this morning. I needed nature more than I had ever needed it before. Once you find yourself drowning in technology, sometimes you have to be submerged even deeper into those things natural to combat what residuals are left behind by the modern world. I hate what so much technology has done to us. We keep our noses buried so deeply in our phones now that we ignore the people around us.
I always take my shoes off when we get into the woods and I noticed Friz was licking at one of the callouses on the ball of my foot. My granny had those same type of callouses. She always told me that it came from a love affair with the Earth. She told me that only those who were intimately acquainted with her had those callouses. “You can always tell a person who is intimate with the Earth Mother. They are the ones with hands and feet made rough from contact.” I rubbed the pads of Friz’s feet. I noticed the same rough feel…and he always smells like the outdoors. Even my little blue chihuahua has his own magickal path.
My roommate has been baking tonight. The smell of cake is wafting through the house. He made my partner a “Poke Cake” for his birthday. He didn’t use the recipe that I have used all these years, but once you bite down into it, I am sure it is going to be just as moist and just as flavorful. My partner likes strawberry…I prefer orange. That doesn’t make it any less of a cake or any less delicious.