It’s our cap! Take it back!

I wrote this a while ago. I am still working on completing the whole of the working for this book that feels like has been taking forever. I have been told that I need to be careful writing it for my own well being. Not that I am in physical danger for this work, but I need to be emotionally safe and not re-trigger myself as I write it. With Trump wearing a red hat and “making America great again” I have been poked at several times just to post this small portion to “take back our red cap.” So okay….

In many fairy tales, a red cap is worn by fairy creatures of all stripes, including the merrow. It not only identified them as fairy creatures, it was a means of protection for them as they strolled through the human world. As a survivor, you are also vulnerable in manners you have yet to realize and admit to yourself. You feel alone and you are probably questioning who your friends really are. You are wondering is Marjory really my friend or is she reporting to my abuser? Stop it. Your real friends will show themselves. Here is where the fun begins. Go to a thrift shop, a Salvation Army, a Good Will, or even if a friend or sibling who asks you what you need and want include a red cap in things like lawyer, a place to stay, a ride and a friendly ear. People will come out of the woodwork to help you. My sister, bought me my red cap. I wear it almost every time I leave the house, even as the heat is getting turned on out here in the desert, I call upon the protective energies of the fairy cap.

Trust me, it is a potent will and far more effective than just a piece of paper known as an order of protection he can walk though. That order of protection will enable law enforcement to arrest your attacker should he be so bold, so do not neglect that aspect of your protection.


Once you have the red cap in hand focus for a moment on the things he has done to you with it in hand. Do not go too deep, only deep enough to make you mad. You want to infuse the cap with specific energies so those who come to your aid know what to defend you from. While I was focusing on these things with my cap in hand, I was interrupted at this point with a visual of my ancestors, mighty and beloved dead, and fairy folk friends coming to my service. Since you may not, at this point have fairy friends yet, let’s go get you one.


You will need to calm yourself. Yes I know, I just asked you to get mad. Now I am telling you to still yourself. I know this seems paradoxical, but it is part of a process that will help you deal with your toxic sacred king in the future if you must. He will do everything he can to get a reaction from you to hook you in for more abuse. He will be desperate to reassert his control of you through whatever means he can manifest and anger is the first button they like to push right next to guilt. You must be able to go from mad to calm of your own will.


Breathe deeply and slowly from the belly. It will feel awkward at first because when you are abused in the manner you have experienced your breathing becomes shallow from fear and anxiety. Focus on the crown of your head. This is where you and divinity become one. This is where the conversation between you and the Gods first occurs. See this part of you as a flower. Allow it to unfold and slowly spin deosil, clockwise. You will begin to notice that all around you is a bluish mist. Breathe this in. It is the life force as it emanates from the fairy realms. It is all around you all the time from every living corner of the universe. As you breathe this in, allow everything it touches to relax fully. Let this energy come into you, fill you, and relax you until you feel the urge to move forward. You will know this moment. You will get the idea that you know where you are going. Trust that moment and move forward through this thick mist inspite of the fact you cannot see the path or a way through it.


As you move forward you begin to notice that the mist grows thinner with every step and you are walking into an old growth forest. Take note of how the light strikes the forest floor, the plants, the small creatures in the underbrush, but keep moving. As you are walking, you notice that the path splits. One path goes right, another goes left. Go left.


As you walk here, the trees thin and the light grows brighter. The path opens to a grassy meadow of perpetual spring. At its center is a mound and you walk around it. Continue walking around it until you find a door. Knock three times upon this door to announce your presence and go in. It is dark and smells of moist rich earth here. Be still for a moment and allow your eyes to adjust. Notice that there is a staircase going down. Many feet have walked these stone stairs before you.


Go down the stairs to find at the bottom another ancient door. You open the door and the light rushes in. Everything is clear and crisp. There is a meadow of perpetual spring before you and it draws you to its center. Stand tall at the center of this meadow and give your name and tell the beings in hiding that you are in desperate need of help. I assure you, they see you and hear you. Ask politely for a helper and fairy advocate to your cause. Explain your cause then sit patiently for someone to step forward. Do not be surprised by your guide’s appearance. Fairies do not always look like Tinker Bell. Introduce yourself politely and explain your situation. Listen to what the fairy guide has to say. S/He may have a gift for you or not; accept it graciously. Before you leave ask your fairy advocate to bless and charm your red cap for protection for you and those around you. When you are ready, say thank you and leave the way you came all the way back into the mist.


You can return to your fairy meadow anytime you wish, whether it is to ask for advice or to just relax and visit your friend. It is important to remember that you use common sense when dealing with fairies, for their sense of justice is not the same as ours. It is also important to use your finest manners and sense of respect. They can do things we cannot. I like to leave fairy offerings of honey mixed with milk over night outside for them to enjoy. Butter is also a favorite offering and anything boozey. This is not an every night affair only on special nights when the moon is full or when a small victory for me and my children happens. Saying thank you out loud when you feel your fairy friend is near is also a greatly appreciated gesture.


Now that your red cap has been blessed for your safety wear it proudly. I charge mine on occasion when I feel vulnerable by putting energy into it and raising more with a chant:


red cap, fairy cap

hide me from my foes

fairy cap, red cap

bring to me my friends.


I roll this chant softly under my breath until there is a glowing warmth at my center and allow that warmth to travel from my belly, into my arms, and release it into the cap. I have found in my wanderings that the cap becomes a beacon to those who feel the need to keep me safely close. You have to remember that while you are going through these trials your loved ones are going through this trial too and they feel almost as much anxiety about this as you do. Their need to be able to see you to keep you safe is important to them. I have been located many a time by my father simply asking: “ Have you seen a woman wearing a red cap?” Do not make the mistake of thinking that this red cap will point you out to everyone. It has been fairy-blessed and as much as it can point you out to friends, it can act as a blinding shield to your foes.

All the Lying Bitches

I spent most of yesterday afternoon deliberately not paying too much to the news and with good reason. I KNEW it would trigger me pretty hard. When I say trigger I don’t necessarily mean that every triggering event leads to a sobbing, gooey heap of sog. Sometimes it can manifest as deep burning anger, something akin to rage. Sometimes it  manifests as though I have suddenly come down with the Spanish Flu and Ebola at the same time with a side of migraine. I was good until after work when I OD’ed on the news. I opened up the news apps on my phone and began to read. I had the thought to turn down the volume and that helped in the moment. What really threw the switch for me was Kavanagh raging and demanding he was the victim and Lindsey Graham pretty much doing the same.

Thank you Kathleen Borealis for this wonderful chart.

But you know what? Most perpetrators of rape and sexual assault call their accusers lying bitches. . . and when I say most really do mean close to 99% of them. I don’t have the math on that because I don’t think the numbers are recorded in that direction. No one keeps record of all the times that those who were shown to be guilty started off their cases saying nah man. . . that bitch is lying because she blah blah blah, envy hate puke. But they do keep record of how many accusations are false and as Fire Lyte aptly points out, even those numbers are seriously problematic.

It’s hard for me to fully fathom how the actual numbers of real false accusations is so small, but how large the accusations of false reporting is so overwhelmingly bloated. It’s even harder to comprehend why anyone listens to that garbage when the numbers are such as they are. Mind blowing really. Are we so programmed to listen to and believe men blindly and ignore the words women speak??? That’s got to change. Society does not get to blatantly ignore 50% of its population or try to drive them into silence by screaming #HimToo. It may be time for some men to take their own advice: sit down and shut up. Maybe opening your ears to actually hear what is going on would be helpful as well.

I don’t know if anyone remembers this, but in the beginning of his nomination tap there was an incident where the father of one of the Parkland shooting victims in Florida went to shake his hand. Kavanagh looked at the gentleman with disdain and walked away with out so much as a thought. Remember the phrase watch how a man treats the waiter and janitor to tell his caliber??? This applies. If he treats someone as though s/he is beneath him run from this man. . . do not look back or second guess. This in the therapy world is called a Superiority Complex.

Kavanagh has been heard stating that it was legal for him to drink while in his senior year of high school. That was not the case:

The age had been raised from 18 to 21. . . and wasn’t he 17??? perpetrators, including my own, will lie and hope that you do not catch on to it when it suits them. And even more fun, later when you catch up to the facts of the situation and call them out, they tell you that you misheard them, misinterpreted them or even more fun than that, they never said any such thing. I’ve not heard any commentary by Kavanagh about the legal drinking age thing. . . not yet anyway.

Another tell of this situation with Kavanagh is that while it may never be actually proven or prosecutable that he sexually assaulted Professor Ford, he sat up in front of the Nation cried and raged about how his life was ruined. perpetrators of sexual assault and even domestic violence play the victim card. It’s an oldie, but a goodie. They will cry crocodile tears, rant and rave, and point the finger at everyone else and everything else as the reason for their demise not once taking accountability for their actions or the damage they caused. How dare you, becomes their favorite mantra right before they spout off all reasons this is your fault and your own doing.

So keeping score here as far as my therapy and experiences with an abuser here are the numbers: 1. Over inflated sense of self, 2. Tells lies to preserve his image, 3. played the victim card. 4. May be denying accountability for actions against Ford and potentially others, 5. exhibits narcissistic rages when confronted with misdeeds how ever large or small.

I think. if anything, if these be” lying bitches”, they have done us all the favor of making Kavanagh’s good man mask fall to the floor on National TV. This enough for me to never want to encounter this particular individual on ANY level for ANY reason. Anyone who has been through domestic violence and sexual abuse/rape would probably recognize these sorts of behavior and flee as fast as they could. Based upon my experience as a survivor and the experiences of my fellow survivors, these are a few of the things that indicate that there may be deeper issues that only his family may understand and certainly reasons for him to not be placed upon the bench in the highest court in this land.

Well. . . as I understand it, the FBI may be tasked very soon to go digging. I think I got witching to do. . . they may need some weird, divine fringe event to help them. Can’t hurt to ask. Witch out!



Thirty days of devotion. . . lessons in silence.

In June the Covenant of Hekate held a month of devotion to Hekate challenge. It was pretty free form leaving most of the details of how to do this up to the individual with the exception of the idea of 10 minutes in the morning and 10 minutes in the evening. It was here that this mediation/ rite, what ever it actually is, came forth. There were also  other invisible fruits to this practice I lived for 30 plus days and still counting. 

This is not a picture of this rite, as none were taken. But it is a picture of one of the initial devotions I performed. Begin with lighting a red and white candle, one at a time. Each candle lighting begins a call to Hekate. It is not a command to appear ( you may find unpleasant surprises if you try to command Her.) It is a stirring, a gentle tap upon the part of the universe She walks within, a luring to the place you call Her shrine ( so you had better have goodies. ie.. an egg, cloves of garlic, red wine, olive oil)

Before Her altar there should be three chime candles for this casting. A white one to represent yourself as a whole and two light blue ones on either side to represent peace.  Sit in silence before Her altar waiting for a signal. You will know it when you feel/ hear/ see it. It will compel you into motion. Light the white candle and say:

This is (X ) s/he stands in the center of every storm and knows peace within her/ his heart and soul and peace within her/ his mind and body. 

Watch the flame. Do not judge it or have any expectation of how it should burn, just watch. Light the blue candle on the right of the white candle and say:

This is the peace within (X). S/he knows peace within her/ his mind and body. Let it encompass and embrace her/ him. 

Breathe deeply though your nose allowing air to fully fill your lungs and observe the candle’s light fill the space. LIght the candle on the left side of the white candle and say:

This is the peace within (X). S/he knows peace within her/ his heart and soul. Let it radiate and pour forth from her/ him.

Watch the light from the blue candle fill its space. Observe how the light of all three candles interact. Make no judgments avoid any expectations. Let your random thoughts just slide by you without any internal commentary. When you feel the pull, extinguish all candles in reverse order being certain to thank and honor Hekate’s presence and attention.

I can’t tell you that this practice of honoring my gods and goddesses is new to me. It was pretty infused into me during my training as a Feri student and carried through my initiate years. Altering the practice, though, has brought new things. This was a particular exercise in a devotion dedicated to a single goddess, giving Her undivided attention. I won’t really mention too much about the experiences I had during those moments, I don’t want to influence your own experiences or set expectations that may not apply to you. I can promise you there will be results you will be very happy with. Enjoy, and feel free to alter as needed to fit your own sense of the divine. I found interesting lessons in the silences at my altar. I hope you do as well.


Demon Resumes

I am patiently waiting for new moon to trim up my hair. . . my poor split ends have split ends, but I hold out because I am a superstitious sort of woman. I believe that turning your shirt inside out and backward will thwart pursuing, unwanted fae company, throwing spilled salt over your left shoulder will avert bad luck, knocking on wood will keep unwanted ears from interfering with your plans or good luck, and especially in the demon under the bed who will grab your dangling foot and drag you under when it creeps out over the edge . . . EEEEeeek!

I also believe the gods and spirits talk to each other about the things you tell them about your life. They all have relationships with each other and are bound to gab at some point or another. Depending on their relationship with you and each other this can either be very, very good. . . or very, very bad. The thing that brought this close to the forefront of my mind was watching Thor: Ragnarök ( we are not doing get help again. . . . insert flying Loki here.)

I live far from the sea, but it does not stop a spirit whose home is there from dropping in and saying hi. He has shown up several times and considering the method he has chosen to show himself, I would think that when I go looking out for him I should see him easily. Well that’s a big nope. I, at one point in time, kept an eye out for him because I had not heard from him in a while and began to worry . . . yes, I’m one of those. There was literally not a peep from him , not a sign, truck or freight container anywhere to be seen with his picture on it. . . not even a damned seahorse ANYWHERE! Big, fat nope is all I got.

I have been having a certain goetic spirit tapping on my door calling me to go play/ work with him. Actually a couple. After a few weeks of looking them in the eye, and hard at that, I get a visit from none other that my sea spirit friend on the high way. Driving nicely even, escorting me all the way to the exit ramp to my Dr’s office. ( No worries just a check up, promise.)

We all know the reputation of working with those beings, but I suspect something else. . . even the archangels in Solomon’s day were called demon. I’m still digging around for information on the spirit I agreed to start with, but it was pretty amazing when I had a weird panic attack with no discernible source happen I felt pulled to draw on myself with his sigil. . . it wasn’t an immediate effect, but it was steady and lasting. After the sigil went on and after it faded, I saw my familiar sea friend. . . if walking in the right direction is marked with synchronicity, it also makes me wonder what are these beings talking about and why are they in cahoots. . . and yes, I think they are in cahoots.

So, off I go to check out some ” demons” resumes so to speak. I got a job for y’all. . .


Salem Girl’s Bullet Journals

20180405_214620I have PTSD. It’s important to get things out of my head and put them in a form I can see. This is where the bullet journal has been invaluable to me. I tend to do things like forget tasks I can and should be doing because I go round and round in my head like a startled fish in a very small bowl. . . This journal allows me to put down my necessary and desired tasks down on paper in a tangible space and look at it to keep me living a “normal “existence.

Ir’s much more than that. It’s magic. It’s a steady hand, like Baba Yaga’s flying hands: it accomplishes the little minutia of the day and performs the mundane task master schedule.  When my day becomes frantic with obsessive, circular thinking, it’s a map and compass to my life: magical and mundane. It’s also a record of how far I have come, and how much wood to include in my pyre. When those inevitable black days hit, and I know they come, I can pull out my little compass and map of my life so far and see that my anxiety and PTSD are big, fat liars and ride through the moment so much easier. I can hold on to the knowledge that light will indeed hit that horizon again.

Yes, there is magic in my bullet journal. I don’t just put in the little, mundane tasks I must accomplish. I put in the things that make me, well , oddly me. GoO gets watered and my magic herbs thrive. Moon  signs and phases, Mercury’s backward dances, Tarot cards of the day, readings and spreads are documented, random madnesses get recorded along with inspirational quotes and sage advice. I randomly doodle and go back to reflect when ugly shows up. I even record chants, spells and varying workings. . . magic indeed. If the Spanish inquisition shows up unexpectedly, and they are never expected, I would be ever so fucked. Go ahead, hang me like your Salem girls and leave my grave unmarked. . .  I left a space for that.

I started this process about 2 years ago. The thing that I have noticed is the more I get the little things out of my head and make a record of the adulting that needs doing the more I find time and space I can actually do things within. I know what needs to be done, when it should be done and I can focus on it because I have planned a space to do it in. . . It’s literally been a practice. Each day has been built and stacked like stones building a foundation, I have found that if I know I have created a space to do a thing I can focus on just that and not stress on what needs to happen next. I have taken a deeper waters sort of approach and actually purchased a dream journal from Dragon Tree. I’m a little overwhelmed but, I am getting over that. I get better at it all the time and find that my bullet journal skills are improving and as it improves. . . so do I.

If that’s not magic, I don’t know what the hexes is. So, here’s to creating prosecutable evidence to my own witches’ pyre. . . at least I can focus on it!

Read for ugly. . .

readingI, on occasion, get a message from a connection on social media about cases of domestic violence in which they need a bit of help with. I check them out not necessarily because I don’t believe them, but more often than not, they are a relative or a friend whom is close to the survivor. I have seen a few cases where the entirety of the story has not been told or the case was exaggerated by the original teller in hopes of revenge. Every case gets looked at carefully and I always pull out the cards. The cards will tell you things that people won’t or cannot.

I posted a reading earlier today that I think bears some discussion and I hope, that in this post, I can be of assistance to readers in what to look for in a reading concerning domestic violence, or even spot it while reading casually for a querent.

So in this particular reading, we see the Page of Cups, or not so much, covered by the Tower. The Page of Cups tends to be a day dreamer with strong emotions. Beneath this Page of Cups is the King of Wands. When I look at this set up I see that this particular person sees himself as a King . . . a ruler of his realm and bringer of law, order and justice, but it seems that the Tower at the heart of the reading is saying that his form of ‘justice’ is devastating and out of balance with the realities of this person’s situations. It is a very strong possibility that this person has emotional and imbalances of perception and is easily angered if you question his authority. The Chariot inverted speaks that this person has already ‘ridden over’ other people for petty affronts to his authority. It also speaks of violence already committed.

The seven of discs is interesting in this position ( in a sort of morbid manner) because it reveals that this person is aware of the fragile nature of his situation. The way the discs sit on each other remind me of a teeter totter. One that could sway in either direction depending on where the weights fall on the platform. The situation has the potential to be truly unjust and tragic for the people he is threatening. This thought is backed up by the two of discs swaying in flux in the near future. All the right things must be done to make sure the survivor prevails and the abuser be held properly accountable.

I think the main advantage here in this reading is that the toxic sacred king, in this case, is not nearly as clever as he thinks he is, as indicated by the three of discs which is  mostly hidden. This card is only revealing a piercing rose thorn from the sky. The discs are hidden from both the viewer and the person. It is possible he is well thought of and generally excused from ‘occasional bad behavior’ by those who surround him. . . ” oh he had a rough childhood” . . . comes to mind. My experience with rose thorns is that they may be sharp and painful when they stick you, but they are easily plucked out. This toxic sacred king is not nearly as difficult to reveal as the covert nature of some.

Disturbingly, the inverted Druid in the relationship position speaks of a person who abuses power in relationships to gain control and self-satisfaction. His authority is the sort of false egoic kind and is easily threatened. He responds with hostility and violence when this authority is questioned even a little. This places the embattled queen in a very disturbing place. She may be in real danger of further violence resulting in very real tragedy. She is disarmed, trapped, and may even lash out at potential rescuers making the situation not only precarious, but very confusing to onlookers, Regardless of whether she stays or goes, she is in dire straits.

Yes, this was a real reading confirming a case.

Now we get to what to look for in your own work. This is a pretty darn good start:

abuse cards

These cards by themselves are not indicators of domestic violence. In cases of Domestic Violence, these cards stack upon each other pretty heavily though. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.  There are also cards that tell a deeper story next to these cards. . . for example the King of Swords inverted with the three of swords near by may inflict pain and sorrow as a means of manipulation, He may even play victim. The inverted Magician abuses power to gain compliance and may even be a gas-lighter. The inverted King of Discs may be withholding resources to trap his prey for continued abuse. This may be confirmed with the possibility of  the 5 of pentacles nearby. The Inverted King of Swords with the inverted seven of  discs is a crafty and covert sort. He is dangerous. He is the sort that lies and can make people believe him. If he is near a seven of cups, he is operating from a place of fear and is also very dangerous. If you see surrounding court cards that do not represent the embattled queen,  be very aware that this person is using others to assist him in his abuse.

As a reader, there may not be a whole lot you can directly do to change the situation for the querent or the situation. You can ask gentle questions to see where the embattled party is coming from and that will give you clues to the levels of awareness and the level of support that can be offered. If you are reading to figure out the situation from a working witch level, you will have the tools and answers within the reading on what if anything should be done. If you are working on this level. . . NEVER FAIL TO READ for ugly before stirring the pot. AND NEVER GO IN ALONE. . . .

Hecate comes to mind. . .



Off You Go. . .

So, you step foot out your door, let the world move you and soon you find yourself on an adventure. My Dad says they are good for your soul. . . and of course, he’s right! You find yourself out of your box trying and seeing new things and walking far more than you intended. You let go of expectation and allow the wonder to set in. It’s the wonder part that I think is the most satisfying and healing part of this thing. It’s wonder that brings magic alive and nudges the mind into new shapes. A world without wonder breaks the soul.

Magic and witchcraft requires wonder and awe to come alive. . . okay let’s be honest, some magic requires seething rage, but that’s another story. This story is about choosing love. I’m not necessarily talking about love in the partner, people sense. It’s about choosing love over fear. Choosing to allow life in through all the cracks and experience a happiness that is self-contained even if you are in the company of good traveling fellows. . . allowing Life and the Universe to put a smile on your face.

Yes. . . Bebe, it’s a choice.

For Yule, my spicy, little Niece ( ok she’s not so little anymore, but I’m oldly like and I get to call her little if I wanna) gave me a couple of beautiful gifts. The first, a pair of socks that say ” I’m a delicate fucking flower!” and the second, a gift card for a local, little bookstore that I adore on 4th Ave.

The socks were a reminder that it’s okay to be vulnerable and delicate. You don’t have to be hard or hard on yourself in order to functionally adult. There is something empowering about embracing your vulnerable and delicate parts. Life flows better if you stop grasping at it and allow it to pool in the softer parts of your psyche. It promotes unexpected growth for unexpected blossoms.

The gift card found me a book that took me back to a place I remember being in my life. It sprinkled water on the of my being that listened to my gut, trusted the sign posts put up by the Universe, and surrendered expectations to allow a thing to unfold as it was supposed to unfold. I felt like a Rose of Jericho plant awakening from a long hibernation as I reached out and began to read its back. There was this ringing gong of an: “Oh, I remember that person. I liked her.”  ( Ok, I guess I should mention its title: Outrageous Openness, by Tohsa Silver.) I read it bit by bit and smile as I have my own similar experiences that validate what she is saying in the book. . . Those experiences never stopped. I just stopped taking note of them after a certain toxic person went into full poisoner mode.

So, I stepped my foot out the door, let life move me with an excellent traveling companion and had an adventure! I met a rose-tree well over 100 years old and brought home one of her babies to put in the Garden of Odd. I stepped into a world steeped in its own legend and legendary ghosts. I visited with the dead and thanked them for the protection they provided during one of the most turbulent and dangerous periods in my life. I satisfied my craving for a bleeding chunk of steak ( Yes, it probably mooed on the way to my plate.) All of this and an affirmation from the  Universe that I was in the right place, at the right time, in the right company! And oh yes. . . I found a copper coin. . . Nope not a penny, a dollar sized copper coin. I guess penny magic will have to be resurrected.

Proof that my Dad was right about adventures and good for the soul. . .??? I went to work with a smile on my face plotting my next adventure. . . of course good company is up for the journey. So off you go now ( choose your company wisely) . . . don’t plan too much, it’s not a script. . . it’s an allowing. . . Adventure away and if you walk away with cemetery dust on your boots, that’s okay, you’re a witch and probably know just what to do with it.

Of course the witches are still here. . . there are still men of evil!

Witchcraft is the recourse of the dispossessed, the powerless , the hungry and the abused. . . It turns on a civilization that knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.” Peter Grey: Apocalyptic Witchcraft 2013

“In those days there were on earth many rich and many poor.
The rich made slaves of all the poor.
In those days there were many slaves who were cruelly treated; in every palace tortures, in every castle prisoners.” Charles Leland: Aradia Gospel of the Witches 1899

What we have in the above is a constant in witchcraft. A thing that tells us that human nature in the course from 1899-2013, has not changed. Not one little bit. This is just a very small snap shot.

In the confessions of Isobel Gowdie, she freely confesses to killing people with “elf arrows” provided to her by the devil (hrm. . . we’ll get to this later. . . promise.) What we see in record of her confessions is someone who had a blended view of witchcraft: fairy folk magic and the kind most feared at the time, that of the devil.

What we don’t see in record is what the people she inflicted with malefic magic did against her and her own to warrant such reprisal. Most seasoned witches who can actually launch a curse I know of do not and have never launched a curse without just cause. They have far better things to spend their energy on than petty causes.

It’s not surprising, actually, to see a lack of admission of any wrong doing from the targets of her bane. What we also see in record, is that she did not only perform malefic magic, she may have had a greater practice of benevolent magic. This brings some very large question marks to the top of my head: what the hexes did these people do to earn such ire??! Some of the targets mentioned were powerful figures: a laird and a pastor come to the front of my mind. These would be people who had the authority to either mete out justice or to inflict great misery.

What I know about those who think they hold power, is they like to think they are free to do what ever they want without reprisal and that they are infallible. They will, in fact, go to great lengths to justify their behavior to themselves. If any one has the nerve to call them out on their poor show of humanity, they actively deny culpability and discredit the accuser as stark raving mad, bitter and or angry shrews  ( for no apparent reason or they didn’t get their way), gold-digging harpies, or ( my personal favorite) drug/ alcohol addled. The accused doesn’t usually stop at discrediting the accuser in these cases. The accused generally indulges in a narcissistic rage sort of mind-set and goes further in attempts to destroy and set an example for any other potential accuser.

If we observe the quotes at the beginning of this blog as being very similar, it’s because we have not changed very much in about 200 years. From here, we can also extrapolate the behavior we are seeing in current affairs involving what Time is calling the Silence Breakers, is not new. In fact, it most likely is a reflection of what carried true in Isobel’s day when she shot her first arrow. It may have been even worse in those times as there were even fewer checks and balances.

We have heard almost every single one of the accused deny allegations. Some have apologized for their poor behavior, but I am more prone to suspect they are sorry they got called out than anything else. For me, the most alarming part of this whole phenomenon is the span of time this behavior reigned without any real consequences for the offending parties until recently.

It’s offensive that for so long so many people knew these things were going on and covered it up and assisted in the destruction of other people’s lives and livelihoods to cover up these crimes. It’s offensive that law enforcement turns a blind eye or worse, blames the survivor. The fault here lies in many places: the judges in the court, the lawyers who benefit monetarily for defending ( and excusing) said behavior, the investigating police officers, peers and associates of the perpetrator and most certainly and most centrally the fault goes on the perpetrator.

Even in the recent past we have seen those with financial and social power put on trial and be freed from real consequence for their criminal behavior. To name a few: OJ Simpson, Bill Cosby ( okay he has another trial coming), Brock Turner ( who is appealing his conviction because he couldn’t have associates testify how he was great of academic and athletic prowess). . . I am sure there are many more who do not come to the forefront of my mind.

It is no wonder in all this time, from Isobel to the Silence Breakers, that witches still roam the earth? NOPE. Not at all, it’s just as Diana spoke to Aradia: “For I have come to sweep away the bad, the men of evil, all will I destroy!” Aradia then spoke to her students about her teachings: ” This shall last until the last of your oppressors are dead.” Yes, harsh, but seeing the inadequacies of our society to properly handle these powerful perpetrators of abuse, I can see the reasoning behind those words spoken in a society so far removed in time from ours. Seeing as how the powerful are still abusing everyone around them with very little recourse for their prey, it’s no surprise at all that we, the witches, are still around. I don’t think we are going anywhere, or that our philosophy will change much.

If in fact, you are in league with the King and Queen of Elphame, much like Isobel Gowdie was, you may have been handed arrows by the King. I doubt very much that the devil ( a thing of Christian belief) is handing out fairy tools. If that is the case, you were assigned a task and expected to fulfill it. ( I know you are out there.) And when the powerful show to be above the law, let fly those arrows upon the abusers and upon all who enabled their reign of abuse. ( Horse and hattock . . . get on it!) I am starting to see Isobel Gowdie’s uncoerced confessions as more of an explanation of consequences for the abuses she and hers suffered than a confession at all.

I leave all those people who abuse their power and the people who enable them with the words of Mercutio: A plague o’ both your houses! “

Crossroads and Whispers.

crossroadThe season is finally shifting here. I can feel it in the breeze. The fire is gone and the sun has changed from something to shun to a thing to soak in. With the changing season, I started to take stock in what has been shifting in my practice. The largest shift is the fact that I now do a whole lot of whispering. I speak softly to the Gods, the spirits I am connected to, my ancestors. At first I thought maybe it was a fear reaction. That didn’t feel right. It took me a a bit of reflection to dig it up.

I have been spending much time practicing silence. Not secret keeping silence. Not silence born of the concern of rightful anger being weaponized such as I have experienced in the past. This silence was something I practiced out of a need to hear myself, find out where I had gone, follow the tracks of the beast to find its home and learn its habits. The beast I found spoke so softly that silence was the only way to hear, and whispering was the only way it would listen.

I remember learning somewhere in my kundalini yoga practice, even though I have gone to the one reading source I have available to me right now and cannot find it (of course,) that one of the three voices used was whispering. Whispering your mantra was considered a very intimate thing. A private conversation between you and your lover intimate. A verbal exchange between you and one you adore. I adore my spirits and ancestors and Gods; why do I need to shout? I decided I didn’t.

The world is so loud. Everything screams and clamors for your attention. Most of those screaming attention hogs have about as much worth as a three dollar bill. The only answer is to fall inside oneself and listen hard. When that became a habit, I noticed that certain shifts came with it. I listen deeper to hear the real voice. The voice that walks you to the place between what is said and what is truly meant. . . that verbal crossroad, if you will.

I have yet to find a place for my crossroad workings. I have worked crossroad magic using only a crossroad I visited in trance before, but having a physical crossroad to actually go to was ever so nice. I had previously created some solar crosses, I gave some away, kept one for myself, and others have yet to find homes.  They were made on the auspicious hours and days, blessed with oils and faerie folk alike. . . never did I, in the moment of creating them, understand the path that was being carved. I thought I was creating a piece of protection. And I was, as my intent would have it. But, magic and spirits are sneaky little beasties with wills and plans of their own.

Laying on my altar, my kept solar cross waited for me to become more clever. The crossroad I was looking for was right in front of me. Listening to me whisper the entire time. Maybe, when the time is right, Tucson will show me a crossroad that is perfect for my needs. But, for now, I have one. . .