It is all ritual magic.
No matter if it is dressed up as a monetized product, self-care, or the cleansing of self.
It has roots in the mystical.
I woke up tired and had been wallowing in my silk spun cocoon for some time.
Even in this process, that is a place where nothing can soothe, but time, I am in no way about toxic positivity, and find the denial of cycles, very counter-productive, and out of touch.
Today it felt like it was time to emerge, I had felt rage, I had felt anger, then morphing into defeat and the dreaded autopilot. Then I slept, I let my Aries, fire tiger nature settle, I accepted I would not be achieving as much as my self-imposed expectations would normally ask of me… and I slept at 7.30pm every night, I did not read, I did not study, I did not think.
I just slept.
I also dreamed, deep adventures in tilted houses, on ocean edges, with fantastic sea beasts swimming beneath me in the crystal blue wonderland of another world, I re-connected with friends and lovers from another realm, we did everyday things, I asked them why the house was so tilted, what if it could just collapse?, to which they laughed and replied that It was safe, the impossible was possible there, if I could only shift my way of thinking and accept this. We ate together, travelled together, talked about anything and everything.
But I was starting to out wear my welcome.
This morning I jumped out of bed with the sunrise, I cleaned my house, throwing dishes into the soapy water, not even caring if they break, and searched for the plants and tools needed for the day, throwing containers from their well organised corner in the kitchen, in a whirlwind of purpose.
I collected my yarrow, the plant dearest to my heart, the plant that in legend is the master healer and protector, the plant that when sprinkled across doorways and windows, no evil can cross. Crushing it in a stone mortar and pestle into a fine dust, I will let it do its purpose, but not before burning its dried flowers and leaves, in every room, with all the windows wide open, letting the wind rush in, and out of the house, papers and cloth flying over the floor, in the added drama that one can only expect in a transformative time.
I will wash my floors in lemon verbena from the garden, that I have boiled in water, an herb not only beneficial to cleanse the body of sickness and infection, but to amplify and purify any magical purpose that it is used for, throwing the concoction down onto the floor in a fever, watching the steam rise as I did.
I sweep away the dust on every surface, wash the sheets on all the beds, polish my talismans and amulets, while remembering the purpose of their creation, before putting them back on my skin, making sure to wear the ones made from copper, with bells and the darkest gems.
The dark stones drawing in the heaviness like a vacuum, the copper cleansing and energising, and the bells driving away what is not needed and pulling in what is (even the darkness is needed a times, never to be banished forever, but asked to leave when it is not necessary).
Loud noises have been used across cultures the world over since time immemorial, from drums to bells, to jangling metal and shells, moving to a cosmic rhythm for trance states, to draw in the other worldly beings and their energy, and likewise to move them on.
I will also swap out my usual coffee, that cycle of tiredness, over-stimulation, and false motivation, that leaves this cloud of full body tension, that destructive cycle that leaves my whole adrenal system in devastation, for more lemon verbena and river mint brewed into tea, the energy now coming from a more genuine place within.
I will cut the dead weight from my hair with sewing scissors, that is now too long, and holding too many memories that I am ready to hold tenderly, and then let go of.
I will lay down on the ground, that dirty coffee goodness topped up with whiskey, for the spirits I talk about so often, that dwell down low, and bite our ankles, for they deserve something too.
I will not forget to leave something special on my alter for the ancestors before me, who’s voices get so deafening when I want to hear them the least, when truths are like raging rivers I cannot ignore, that my body, so weary and tense, so far away from any cohesion with my mind, has felt from the start.
My body… that has had enough, that is warning of a state of un-wellness, should I not listen to her.
Then after all has been cleansed, after all feels new again… after the awakening has begun.
It is time for seeking out what is new, what is needed, what is desired? The only woman for this will be the empress, the one who knows our desires and what we truly want, so I lay down her card to watch over the biggest living space in my home.
It is also time to start asking for small wins, time to accompany the empress with the eight of pentacles. For me personally, I always feel that aiming for gains on a material level, that are associated with skills, rewarded effort, and achievements, will have a higher success rate than massive windfalls (although I believe in those too!).
Ask for the right things… that is the key.
It is time to put a box of coins under the sunniest east facing window, it is time to burn bee wax candles and cleanse that stagnant air, it is time to emerge smelling of smoke and sandalwood.
It is time to step out of the sleeping world, hug those guides goodbye, and step back into this material plane.
Life is a wheel, and finding myself back on top, under the sun again, always feels the warmest after the darkness.
I would like to give a mention to a certain magus, you know who you are.
Thank you for the consistent truth talk and vision.
