I have taught three versions of The Magick of Witchcraft 101 in the last three days. I transcend from the mundane space to the magickal space of ritual and education “class time” as differently as the floating pattern Aspen leaves take from branch to earth.
On Wednesday I hosted an AirBnB Experience called The Season of the Witch. I opened the workshop to Eastern Sierra locals and discovered there is a women’s circle group already in Mammoth. As my friend Babsi would say, I “comandeered” my neighbor, Jackie, into being my right arm woman. Babs has a fair point, I only met the woman two weeks ago, and upon finding out she loved crystals and was an organic baker, I asked her to be my assistant!! Morning walks among the Aspens fueled our creativity and created a bond that carried five women through ritual with unique expressions of the Goddess and the aide of our herbal allies.
Yesterday, I posted a picture of me from fourteen years ago at one of my favorite festivals where I would typically sell about 50 copies of my books over a weekend. I was thrilled with those numbers then. There wasn’t a lot of witch authors. I felt myself on the fringes and doing pretty good. I had authored five books in five years and my work environment required me to dress up like a faerie Witch. And when it was slow I would drink Guinness.
I believed more in the world of Faire and fantasy than the mundane world. I yearned to bring my sons into the world with me but I couldn’t imagine how to include them at the festivals and sign books or connect with readers at the same time. I lived a world divided – on one hand I was a bad ass Witchy author in control of my destiny and on the other hand I was the unhappy wife of Bluebeard, locked away from my Wild Self.
Within minutes of posting that picture I felt the SWISH! of Magick. You know how in New Age spiritual personal development work we send love to our child-self? Well this was the reverse. Through a picture, my younger version of myself gave me a shot in the arm of verve and maybe even a little piss and vinegar. Oh, how I can mire in fathomless depths of sadness and how it hung over me for years then kind of dulled my emotions – like how you are before your heart has ever been broken or you’ve seen dreams shattered on the floor. She settled into my bones and fueled my blood, my breath with the knowledge that THE TIME HAD COME.
On my way to the book signing in Bishop, a hick town, I worried that the market is so completely saturated with Witches. I didn’t know how I could help. Then I’d feel another surge of my courage to be a Witch author in the post 911 hostile environment. I know I am truly a living witch and have been for a long time. Ask my kids. There’s nothing to prove.
I know who I am and if I can help you, I am grateful. I may not always be graceful, as my friend Gina points out, but I am so grateful that with my books and my teachings I help others to recognize they are the Divine, co-creating a world with the Divine and Nature.. This was our altar and working space in the one-on-one AirBnB experience with Kristina.