Magick with a “K”

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It seems as if my pens, paper and computer have lain dormant for quite a while.  As I relaxed on the sofa this evening after a day of hiking, I could feel my thoughts bringing the past few weeks together into a blog post.  I peeled back the blanket I had been napping under and made my way to my desk…all under the grimacing face of a little blue chihuahua who had made himself far too comfortable nestled in the crook of my leg.

I made myself a promise at the beginning of 2015.  I vowed that I would spend more time living life…experiencing new things…going on new adventures.  I had started seeing life as too routine…a little too mundane.  I was starting to settle into middle agedom.  It was becoming far too easy just to come home, put on pajama pants and crash mindlessly in front of the television.

My partner and I had planned a trip to Orlando with some of his family.  The planning all came to fruition a couple of weeks ago.  We had made arrangements to go to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios and to the Magic Kingdom at Disney World.  I am a huge Potter nerd, so that part of the trip was for me and me alone.  My partner was so patient as I rattled on about the movies and books.

We got to Universal early that morning.  I practically flew through the park…I had to locate Diagon Alley.  As I rounded one corner, there was the Night Bus.  Stan Shunpike was standing next to it with the shrunken head in the window.  It wasn’t exactly easy finding the entrance to Diagon Alley, so we engaged the young man in conversation.

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He directed us toward the entrance. As I moved through the brick wall, my breath caught in my throat.  It was a sight like I have never seen.  It felt as if I had just come home after a long, long trip.  All around me was whimsy and magic and  all things fantastical.WWoHP-Diagon-Alley1

 

My partner stood back and smiled as he watched me run from store to store…gazing in all the windows.  He told me later that the only thing missing was the broom…otherwise, I was flying on my own.  We went on the Gringott’s ride, we wondered through the shops.  We stepped into the line for Ollivander’s Wand Shop.  Even with the children in line, there seemed to be a type of reverence as we stood there.  We were ushered into the heart of the shop and an older woman was chosen for the wand ceremony.  Her excitement could hardly be contained as the birch wand with the dragon’s heart string chose her.  Then as we were taken into the purchasing area, I chose Sirius Black’s wand…interactive of course.

I made my purchase and my partner and I went to lunch at the Leaky Cauldron.  The traditional English fare and butterbeer had us stuffed to the gills.  As I looked at the stack of cauldrons beside me, Jay announced that he needed to use the facilities.  We walked over toward the restrooms and I wandered into the beastiary.  I walked outside to try my wand with the interactive windows and saw a little girl wildly waving her wand at the window.2015-03-10 12.49.57

 

I watched the little girl as she dropped her arms down by her side and her chin went to her chest.  I heard her say, “I guess I’m just not magical.”  It broke my heart.  I couldn’t stand the thought of someone whose heart was so excited about all the magic around her (whether it is an illusion or real) thinking that there was no magic in her at all.  I knelt down beside her and held her arm and wand toward the window.  I told her that all she needed to do was to picture the magic happening with all she had.  As she made the motion toward the window, the bird stopped singing and toads began to move.  Her eyes lit up and she yelled out, “I do have it!  I do have magic!”  Her mother came up to me a moment later and told me that she really appreciated the kindness I had shown her daughter and that now even she believed there really was magic in the world.2015-03-10 17.42.35

The past few weeks have found me at Hogwart’s, Diagon Alley, and every part of the Magic Kingdom.  I have seen children and adult’s alike excited by the very thought of magic being real.  At the end of the day, I was able to hold on to that excitement because magick encompasses every area of my life.  It swirls around me and within me on a daily basis.  Many people have asked me why I spell magick with a ‘k.’  A friend posted something on Facebook that said it best:magick

 

 Didn’t we all grow up entranced by the illusion?  Isn’t that what first brought us to magick in the first place?  That thought…that hope….that somehow, someway….it all has to be real…isn’t that what motivated us to find our way to the Craft.

To others we may seem odd…eccentric.  After all, we believe in spells and energies and potions and all manner of magickal beings.  So what?  I am who I am.  I am a witch.2015-03-28 22.04.08

 

Last night, I fell asleep in the woods.  I went to the woods after a stressful day at work.  I left my cell phone and anything else that might remind me of the modern world behind.  I wrapped myself in my cloak and made my way to that familiar spot in the woods.  I dug out a hole and surrounded it with stones and built a small fire.  I stared at the sky and felt the cold ground beneath me as I called out to the elements and the goddess to clear my mind and awaken me to the sounds of the earth around me.  I remember starting to count the stars.  I awoke at midnight with the fire completely gone and a chill to my bones….but I was relaxed.  It was as if the earth herself soaked up the stress of the day and pushed her own strength into me.

I woke up early this morning to go hiking at Red Top Mountain State Park.  I went with friends and we took a picnic lunch.  There was no agenda….just a need to escape into nature and re-connect.  We walked, we laughed, we absorbed earth, wind, and water energy….we soaked up the fire energy of the sun.  For today…magick rushed around us.  We could all feel it sweep the week away and usher in renewal.  2015-03-28 11.54.30 HDR

 

We got back to the condo and our bodies called for rest.  We each snuggled under blankets and let our minds be captured by dreams.  I dreamed of the magick of the moon…the stars…simple things that hold far more magick than they are credited for.  Sometimes letting ourselves be swept away in the magick of those simple things is some of the most powerful magick around.2015-03-28 22.55.22

 

Blessings my dear friends.  Blessings.

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Though the Sorrow May Last Through the Night…

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I have been hated for many things over the years.  I have been hated for things I have done….things I have said….my belief system….who I am.  Through all of the persecution, I have always tried to be the bigger man.  I have always tried to reason with my brain and respond with compassion and love.

For some reason, though, the events that have bombarded the United States and the world over the past few months have drowned my heart in sorrow.  I am referring to the persecution of homosexuals in Uganda and Russia….also this “Turn the Gay Away” bill that seems to be rearing its ugly head in so many states.men-holding-hands-3CROP

I am a tolerant man.  I try to respect and honor all faiths. I try to respect and honor all races.  I try to embrace the differences that make us all individuals and make this world a more interesting place to live.  I try to surround myself with people who have the same kind of heart.

For those of you who don’t know, I served as a pastor for two mainline denominations for over ten years.  In those ten or more years, I was only met with intolerance once.  In that instance, the pastor of the church told me that he suspected me to be gay.  At the time, I was not out of the closet or quite as sure of who I am as I am now.  He told me that I needed to have an HIV test done and have the results submitted to him and his wife.  I had never been so humiliated.  In that moment, I hated myself for who I was and tried to hide anything about me that would give me away.

Fortunately, after that incident, I was hired into a large church in Charlotte.  I was met at the door with open arms and a love for any uniqueness that made me…me.  In time, I became more confident in who I was and more secure in my sexuality.  I remember one day when I went into my lead pastor’s office.  I had requested a meeting so that I might talk to him about my being gay.  He sat thoughtfully in his chair with his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.  I mustered all of my courage and said, “Pastor, I am gay.”  No reaction.  I said, “Pastor, perhaps you didn’t hear me.  I am gay.”  No reaction.  He picked up his bible and started thumbing slowly through it.  All I could think was that I was about to be blasted with scripture.  Instead, he turned to me and smiled.  He said, “Did you grow an extra head or something?”  I said, “No.”  He looked at me and laughed and said, “You are still one of the best pastors I have been blessed enough to serve with.  Now get back to work.”  With that declaration, he pulled me in for a hug, then put his hand on my shoulder and sent me back to my office….feeling more loved than I ever have.

There was a song we did in that church….the lyrics still come to my mind as I type:

I’m trading my sorrow
I’m trading my shame
I’m laying them down for the joy of the Lord

I’m trading my sickness
I’m trading my pain
I’m laying them down for the joy of the Lord

[Chorus:]
And we say yes Lord yes Lord yes yes Lord
Yes Lord yes Lord yes yes Lord
Yes Lord yes Lord yes yes Lord Amen

I’m pressed but not crushed persecuted not abandoned
Struck down but not destroyed
I’m blessed beyond the curse for his promise will endure
And his joy’s gonna be my strength

Though the sorrow may last for the night
His joy comes with the morning

Thinking of these lyrics today reminded me….it is only in squeezing or crushing the grape, that the sweetness of the juice is released.

I know that there are those out there who would call themselves Christian who would rather spew out hate and vitriol than take the teachings of the biblical Christ to heart.  My days in the church were not spent studying a Christ who belittled and hated.  I spent hours in my office composing sermons of a Christ who sat and ate and drank with tax collectors and prostitutes (the vilest of the vile in his day).  I became acquainted with a Christ who, when told that a woman was caught in an act of sin and should be stoned, looked down at the ground and said, “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.”  He then looked at the woman with compassion and asked, “Where are your accusers?” She said, “There are none.” “Neither do I condemn you…go and sin no more.”004-jesus-washes-feet

My fondest memory of this Christ who receives the blame for so much of the hatred that spews from man….is the Christ who spent the night before his death washing the feet of his disciples.  He knew that one of them would betray him that very night….but he chose to take on the role of servant.  And again, I studied of this Christ….the one whom people blame for their right to picket soldiers funerals, and burn the sin out of people…this Christ returned from the grave to offer those who had denied him and spat on him and killed him, another chance for redemption.

So, if I have all of these wonderful memories of the church…all these wonderful remnants of who Christ was, buried inside me, why did I become a witch?  Because Christianity, to me, was limiting.  Why limit myself to one god….even if he was a three in one.  Gods and Goddesses encompass so much more than we are willing to give them credit for.  Humanity has always wanted to keep that which we don’t understand confined….if you don’t believe this, go to a zoo.

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My trip to the woods this morning was a heavy-hearted trip.  As Friz and I settled in, Friz could tell there was something different about my spirit.  He quietly licked my face. He nuzzled me…he stayed close by.  I called on the elements, the directions…and this time I did not stop at the Lord and Lady I normally call upon.  I called upon the Christ that I had been acquainted with years ago.  We chatted about those who are using his name to hurt and harm and hate.  We also chatted about those followers of his who actually “get it.”

It doesn’t matter what faith you pursue or what you believe….there is never a place for hatred.  Hatred only destroys.  It turns the hater into a predator whose thirst for blood can never be sated.  It turns those who are hated into prey…constantly pursued and never able to rest.

As I lay back onto the earth this morning, I saw Mama Crow perched in the trees above.  She has only ever asked one thing of me….”Be true to myself.”  I have not been able to hide who I am in years, and I do not intend to start now.

I will stand tall with my sword at the ready…not fighting for the sake of the fight, but so that change may actually be affected.  I will love stronger than I have ever loved, and with every swing of the sword, I shall breathe compassion and healing over any who become part of the battle.  I will never go back into hiding. Witch or gay, my true self will always shine through.

As I lay there this morning, feeling Mother Earth pouring her magick into me and the Wild Man of the Woods pouring his stamina into  me,  I looked to my side to see a grouping of daffodils…not yet bloomed, but the color of yellow just barely peeking through.2014-02-22 15.13.15

Though the sorrow may last for the night
Joy comes with the morning!

Blessed Be!

A Summer of Frybread and Indian Tacos

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This week, my mind has been racing back fifteen years or so.  I was still involved in the mainline church and a bit thinner then.  The church I was working with decided to do a building mission trip to the Standing Rock Indian Reservation.  The reservation is located in North and South Dakota, but our trip was to be in the South Dakota part of it.  My church, at the time was a little unusual.  This trip was not about “winning souls” or “converting the indians” as I have heard many say.  When I say that we went out as a building team….I mean we went out as a building team…to make repairs to the local church and to  build sheds.

We knew a couple of families on the reservation prior to our trip, so we had some familiarity, but at that time, racial tensions were a bit high.    The families that we knew also knew of my heritage and knew that my grandma was full Cherokee.  I didn’t realize how much that would help me until later.   I had experienced reservation life on the North Carolina Cherokee reservation…but I wasn’t quite sure I was prepared for what awaited me.  I was taken on this trip solely for my experience with troubled youth.  I had worked as a Crisis Intervention Director with an alternative school years earlier.  My area of “expertise” in the church was also trouble teens and working with kids with learning disabilities.  I was also on the praise team….where the singing was going to help, I had no clue.

We flew into Minneapolis on a dry summer morning.  I had no clue that we would be driving most of the day in a large white van to reach our destination.  The majority of the team would be staying at a motel just outside the reservation.  Some of us were allowed to stay in homes.  I remember looking at the landscape around me…. so flat and dry compared to the lush green mountains of North Carolina.  As I looked out the windows of the van, I could see fields of sunflowers.  To this day, they remain my favorite.  I looked to the right of us and see a buffalo ranch.  I am in awe of these magnificent beasts.  Giant, powerful beasts….they represented the heart of the Lakota people…once wild and free and now confined behind fences and boundaries.

Standing Rock Indian Reservation North Dakota USA

We pulled into the church parking lot and were told by the locals that it would be best if everyone would just stay inside the church.  I was told that I could go out with the local family members because I had the blood of the people in me.  We walked through the reservation….along dirt roads and over hills.  The first person we came across was a young girl of eight or so.  She was playing with a litter of pups.  She looked at me and spat out, “Why is he with you?”  The young lady who was accompanying me replied, “How dare you treat him like that!  He has our blood!”  The little girls attitude toward me took on a total transformation.  All of a sudden, it was as if she was my shadow.  In all honesty, I am the whitest looking native you have every seen.  I got every bit of my grandfather’s darker Irish looks and freckles…..the only thing that seems to have been given to me by my grandma is my dark skin in the summer.

I loved being able to visit the houses of the grandmothers and grandfathers and being given the honor of listening to so many stories….stories about when they were children….stories of accomplishment, but never told in a way that might be mistaken for bragging.  My grandmother had told me before I left to always be gracious and honor each person I met.  I was overwhelmed by the honor and graciousness which was shown to me. With each meeting there was always an abundance of laughter, strength and plenty of frybread.   I love frybread with a passion.  I finally had to learn to make the Lakota recipe. Nowadays whenever I feel the need for a bit of “home,” I make frybread. 

The grandmothers and grandfathers loved to hear me sing.  They told me that it soothed them.  There were many times when I would just sit and hum as we worked.  I would look over at one of the grandmothers and see her head tilted to the side with her eyes closed listening to me.  It was then that I was made aware of the magick in music.  I was told constantly that I had a gift…when I opened my mouth and music came forth, it was a calming, soothing sound that spoke to the heart. The last time I was on the phone with my grandma before she died, she asked me to sing her a song. I did.  My hope is that it spoke to her heart that day.

I was introduced early in the summer to one of the grandfathers who was said to have strong medicine.  My grandma told me later that he would have been considered a ‘medicine man’ or spiritual leader.  On our first meeting, he told me that he actually saw very strong medicine in me.  I was very much his shadow for the rest of the summer.  We would climb buttes and roam the prairies….it was very much an awakening of my own spirit.  I was allowed to experience things that I can only describe as a beautiful part of the Great Mystery or Wakan Tanka.  I was shown a people who were still very much an indigenous group…people in whom the wild heart still danced. 

My friend told me many times to be watchful of all things around me…to be watchful like the crow…that may be part of the reason I feel such a kinship with the crow…and also seem to draw crow to myself.  He would spend many hours telling me about the personalities and characteristics of the animals.  Through these stories I fell in love with buffalo, wolf, crow and eagle…..and was shown the cunning of the trickster, coyote.

It was also in this time that I was truly introduced to the medicine of those who had been before me.  We would call this ‘ancestral magic’ now.  I was shown how to pay tribute and honor to those who had gone before…to those whose footprints I walked in.  I was taken to the burial site of Sitting Bull.  I felt unnerved standing so close to history.  I felt humbled knowing what he stood for.  I still try to stop every day to give thanks to my ancestors and those who have walked the road before me.

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My heart is full as I write these words.  Memories overtake me.  I am just as much standing in front of the buffalo that I was allowed to get close to now as I was fifteen years ago.  I can still smell the smell of the reservation around me.  I can still taste the frybread on the back of my tongue.  I can still see the beautiful, beautiful lines in the faces of the grandmothers and grandfathers.  Whenever I hunger too much for those times, I bring out gifts that were given to me….a drum, a pipe, and a flute.  In using those gifts, I am there again…lost in the stories and teachings of one who had strong medicine. 

I try every day to walk ‘the Good Red Road.’  Sometimes I am successful.  Sometimes I fail.  It is in those failures that I have to rely on that strong medicine inside of me.  It is in those moments that I have to separate from the harshness of the city and escape back to where I came from.  It is in those moments that I call on Great Grandfather Spirit and Mother Earth.  It is in those moments that my medicine is strongest.  When I commune with the animal spirits….when I dance in the open with reckless abandon….when I sing to the wind…..That is when I am the most free.

Blessed Be!

‘An Harm None…..

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When I was a kid, I remember mama always telling me, “Now you be sure you play nice.”  Every time I walked out the door to play with the other kids in the area, to go fishing, to romp with the animals….I always got that same mantra.  “Now you be sure you play nice.” 

I have already told y’all that I was a mischievous child….not mean, just mischievous.  I loved to put baby green snakes where they shouldn’t be…or put a ‘hoppy toad’ down the back of my cousin’s dress…I even switched out all the eggs in the henhouse and put em all under different mamas.  I never did anything out of maliciousness as a little one.  I just liked things that would make me laugh….but I could always hear mama’s voice ringing in the back of my head….still do today.  “Now you be sure you play nice.”

This week, in the midst of the busy-ness of work and home and everything in between, Goddess gave my ear a tweak.  First off, I am a witch.  I don’t keep up with all the different traditions that are followed.  I am not really Wiccan….not Gardenerian…I am a plain old solitary witch.  I honor the Sabbats, follow the wheel of the year, can call the directions as well as anyone, cast a circle fantastically (well, in my mind) and do wonderful magickal spells.  I have always followed a particular part of the Wiccan Rede, though.  I have always abided by, “An it harm none, do what thou wilt.”  I think it all just stemmed back to my mama.  I just needed to play nice. 

This week, several times as a matter of fact, I was made madder than an old wet hen.  My boss pissed me off several times.  I had to deal with some local delinquents who had no respect for others.  I also had to deal with a client or two that just ripped me a new one because of someone else’s mistake.  By Thursday, ‘An harm none’ was about as far from my mind as it could get.  I was angry, tired, and quite literally fed up.  I had determined that I was going to let everybody have it……Open up a can of whoop-ass.

As I reached the point of no return, a client came up to me at work.  His bill had exceeded what he thought that it should be and he proceeded to chew on what little nerve I had left.  He started spitting out cuss words and his arms flailed harshly as if he might hit me at any time.  The veins in his forehead started pulsing….and he screamed.  Loudly.  I could feel it welling up inside me.  The anger that had been festering all week long was going to come to surface whether I liked it or not.  It was going to come out in one big ‘KABOOM’ and no one was going to be left standing.

Just as I breathed in enough air to spew every ounce of venom that I just knew was coming.  I opened my mouth and the word “Sir” came out.  With that one word, the man in front of me put his hands to his face and began to sob uncontrollably.  His body wretched and shook with every tear.  I watched in a matter of seconds as the tough exterior shattered and gave way to the man underneath.  It turned out he had  lost his job and then his dog got sick and this bill was a large chunk of what he had left in the bank.  I could feel the hand of the Goddess gently grab the upward corner of my ear and pointedly say, “You play nice!” man-crying

Last night I went back to that familiar phrase, “An it harm none, do what thou wilt.”  I meditated on it….I rolled it back and forth around my brain and my heart.  I went into the courtyard under the moon and talked back and forth with Lady Luna.  Well, let’s just say that I pissed and moaned and she listened for a bit.  “Sometimes I just want to make somebody feel as bad as they made me feel.  Sometimes people deserve it.”  As I said, she listened for a bit…then I began to feel her end of the conversation. 

She took me back to a time when I hurt many people.  I deserved to be burnt to a cinder.  I had been careless and thoughtless and many, many people were left in the rubble.  If anyone deserved to be ‘hexed’ or punished, it was me.  Instead, those around me, determined within themselves to pick up the pieces that were left of me and help me rebuild myself.  It was a hard road and I am sure there were times that they wanted to forsake the journey….but they stayed right beside me.

At this point, I could hear Goddess whispering in my ear.  “There is no need to harm anyone.  There is no need to ‘get even.’  You see, people do more harm to themselves.”  “You want to see the person who is constantly bragging about their accomplishments, which are mostly lies, come to justice, but they are living in a cage that they have created.  The lies and false accomplishments have become their bars.  They can never let their guard down for fear of showing the true self underneath.” “The boss who makes your life a living hell during the day goes home to a house with no good emotion.  A wife who lost her love for him long ago….and he drinks the night away to help him forget.” “The teenager who craves attention that they don’t get at home.  They are constantly told that they are stupid or useless.  Negative attention is better than none at all, in their mind.”

I sat there stunned.  I had been so wrapped up in my own anger this week that I had completely blinded myself to seeing past the outer shell of people.  I had studied Psychology in college until there were no more courses to take….I should have realized this.

People are not so unlike animals.  I deal with both types of creatures everyday.  When they are afraid, they frantically do whatever they can to survive.  They yell and growl to make you back away.  It is only when you approach them on their level…where they hurt the most that the healing can start. 

I am reminded of a few more words….”In perfect love and perfect trust…”  If my motives are always filtered through love, then I have created the most powerful magick possible.  Yes, I can still be hurt, but I can also offer someone or something an opportunity to fly….to experience healing.

When I cook, I can tend to over-salt.  I got this, too, from my mama.  One trick she taught me was that when there is too much salt, add a potato to soak up some of that salty taste.  Same way with people….sometimes they just need someone to help take away some of the hurt so that they can see long enough to start walking toward a path of healing.

That’s the way it was with me so many years ago.  Had someone not been willing to ‘harm none’ and walk me through in ‘perfect love and perfect trust,’  then I wouldn’t be the person I am today…..and thankfully I am still changing every day of my life.

Blessed Be!Children-and-Peaceful-Place1-300x200

I Have Loved the Stars…

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I went walking tonight by myself in the dark.   It was about ten o’clock and the dogs were asleep on the bed with their other daddy, the roomie was napping in his bedroom….I found my brain overcrowded.  So many things have happened this week.

I had a strange call from my mom on Tuesday at lunchtime.  She told me that my niece (who I raised) was robbed at gunpoint on Monday night.  She was on her way to her car after work and a strange guy came up behind her.  He forced her into his truck and took her phone, bank card, identification cards…everything in her purse.  He told her that if she told anyone, that he had her information and would come and kill her family.  There was good surveillance footage of the guy and he was caught just a couple of days later.  He is currently in the hospital…..what he did was part of a gang initiation and he was supposed to kill her.  Bless Goddess, that did not happen.

Friday, I heard the news that all those babies and their teachers were killed at Sandy Hook Elementary school in Newtown Connecticut.  Such a tragedy as this should not befall anyone.  Innocence was shattered as horror overtook it from the barrel of a gun.

I have been haunted by a particular quote all week long.  It has drifted in and out of my mind like a beautiful haunting melody.

I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

My niece said it best the other night when I talked to her about what had happened.  She said, “I have always loved people.  I cannot allow this to change that.  I cannot let my fear of what happened take away a large part of what makes me, me.”   My mother told me today that she admires her so.  She said that she is making herself push through…..her hands shake constantly and she moves more calculatedly…but she is showing that she is more powerful than the criminal could ever be.  No survivor of any crime is a victim…no matter what, they are exactly what their strength and power shows….survivors and victors.

If you think about it, we sometimes tend to see ourselves as weak.  We don’t see ourselves as strong as we truly are.  I have to admit, with everything that has happened this week….it would have been very easy to let fear creep into my heart.  It is far to easy to see evil shadows lurking around every corner.  It is important for me to remember, though, that most of the time, those are the shadows of people who are just as afraid as I am. 

I have to admit, tonight was my first venture past my courtyard under the night skies in a week.  It was hard walking past the eyes of neighbors I did not know…wondering what was going on in their minds.  I walked into the wooded area at the edge of the complex…..where I have been so many times before…..I felt the darkness looking menacingly over my shoulder.  I heard a rustling in the leaves and my breath caught in my chest.  I laughed in relief when I realized it was black and white cat.  My guess is that he smelled the sardines in my jacket pocket.  I looked up through the clearing in the trees and got a good look at the stars and the moon.  All I could think about was how many times I have been guided by them.  I remembered the quote again….I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

I began to meditate on the attributes of the Lord and Lady.  How many times they have experienced death and rebirth…..change, cycles.  I have lived my life imbued with the power that they have…..no one can take that power from me.  It doesn’t mean that I act stupidly or throw all common sense to the wind…..but they have given me a power to overcome, to walk in power, to fly above….they have given me magick.  It is that magick that has always been a source of comfort to me.

I took some candles with me into the woods tonight.  I lit one candle for healing, one for peace, one for protection, and one for love.  I prayed to the Lord and Lady to send all of these things to the people of Newtown and to my niece.  As I sat with a purring black and white fae cat in my lap, I listened to the whispers of the wind and felt the glow of the moon and stars radiating against my skin.  I knew the Lord and Lady heard me.  I can feel the magick welling up inside of me.

The events of this week tried to stir fear, confusion…..but the Lord and Lady turned it into a week of power, strength and some of the most amazing magick.

Healing stir, protection, power

I call on you in this magick hour.

Light inside the darkest places

Fear is gone and will leave no traces.

In perfect love and perfect peace

Nightmares and terror now will cease.

By Water, Earth, Air and Fire

God and Goddess hear my heart’s desire.

By all that’s good, go forth from me

As I will, so mote it be!

Blessed Be, y’all!magick