I’ve been a bad witch. No, I’m not hexing, cursing, or infringing on the “free will” (insert sarcastic eye-roll) of others. I’ve been a bad witch because I haven’t been doing the things a witch does. I haven’t been giving offerings, laying wards, chatting with my beloved dead- hell I haven’t even burned a piece of sage in the devil knows how long.
There’s something that has a hold on me and I can’t shake it. It feels like all the power within me is zapped, dead, decaying. Maybe it’s my day job stressing me out, or the current state of the world or maybe it’s because this year has been a hard and sad year for my family as we have lost so many. Or something is going on in the stars. Either way, I feel lethargic, useless, unfocused, and this has spilled over into my witchcraft. I could sit here and make excuse after excuse on my part, but it’s not excusable. I’m a fucking witch, and I should be doing witchcraft, but I’m failing.
My relationships with the spirits of my house and land, the local plant allies, my familiar spirits, my dead, and all of aspects of the unseen is suffering greatly. I know they are still there and are patiently waiting for me to get it together. I recently consulted the help of someone who I trust dearly to do a bone reading for me to see what kind of funk I had managed to find myself in. Once I received the reading, it was right there in plain-view. I know this, and I knew how greatly my funk was affecting my ordinary and my magical life. It helped opened my eyes and shed new light on my current state. No matter how tired I am, or busy, or depressed- I have to practice my craft.
Stripping it all down…
As the dark half of the year approaches it is a time to step back and journey inward to your shadow self. I plan on spending the next few months getting back to the roots of my practice and rebuilding from there. The man in black has been calling to me in both the waking world and the dream world- commanding me to join him. I feel his haunting presence walking behind me, or catching a glimpse of him down a corridor inviting me to follow him, the crows and black cats, and hell hounds watching me from afar as I go about my day. In the dream world he summons me to the top of a barren hill and invites me into his circle- naked of course. Under light of the moon we dance wildly and madly until the climax of ecstasy spreads through our bodies and are left crippled and spent on the hard ground.
I will work more closely with not only my dead, but the spirits that haunt my home, the local dead and the plant allies in my area. Apparently there’s a bushy plant in my area that’s taken a liking to me, so I will extend the hand of friendship with some kind words and sweet offerings. I will work to sharpen my psychic and medium skills and really hone in on them more than just reading Tarot for the odd client now and then. I will start paying closer attention to my dreams and even probably maybe keep a dream journal.
My personal rituals will be scaled back and stripped down so that I may work on building them again on dedication and practice.
It seems I’ve got my work cut our for me.