Make Magic with Me

Right now, I’m living with Holy Terror. So much of it is ineffable that even trying to speak of it is pointless, and yet here I am. Much will be meaningless to the observer, but I find some meaning, some measure of better understanding, in articulation, and thus, here I am. A point of no return was reached, over the summer, an epiphany that changed much for the better, that brought me deeper in my devotion and has revealed to me a source of untapped strength and conviction. In the beginning there was trust and love, after the initial doubts and fears. There was a few years that would be, to borrow a phrase from St. John, my own Dark Night, and then there would be a struggling to get back to that place of trust and love, of building new trust. This I did, and I was successful. And now, there is this place I’m at now, which is a place of greater trust and greater love, of greater devotion, than I had previously been.

I’ve been tightening the focus of my life, of my living, of where my attention goes. It waivers, of course. It’s a progress, like anything else, but the intent is to nourish as well as be nourished, rather than to be sucked into cycles of reacting and being caught up in things that cannot be changed. There will always be people who disagree with me, with my choices, with any number of things. It’s useless to decide that I’m going to prove them all wrong. Pointless. It is not being the change I want to see in the world, it’s just a continuation of what’s already there.

Poseidon has reminded me of my points of origin, of the first few things that stirred passion within me, that put me on the path that would lead me to Him. I’ve been reminded of the wonderful people who touch my life and make it better, who remind me that love transcends much. I’ve come into contact with new people who challenge the patterns of my thinking and nourish me in that manner. I’ve been reminded of the generosity in people. I’ve been reminded of the good.

In a way, it’s the same cycle I’ve tread with Poseidon since the beginning, only we’re spiraling deeper and deeper down.

I’m writing a thing He’s asked me to write, and I’m doing it, and it’s by turns delightful and horrible. I’m seriously contemplating another project which He’s requested. “You’ve done all this work, now turn it in this direction.” and I’m still tempted to go running for the hills, but I know I won’t. I know that my fears and doubts will shatter like so many ships upon the rocks, that I will either succeed, driven on by the force of His tide, or I too shall shatter upon the rocks, and sink, and truly, is there in that any outcome I wouldn’t welcome? I will still gain, from trying and floundering. It doesn’t matter that I am not nearly competent enough for the task He’s requested. It doesn’t matter at all that I only have an end goal in mind and no ideas of how to implement it. It doesn’t matter at all that, should I succeed, it will take a life of its own and morph, as these things do. All that matters is He requested it.

We’ve turned our attention back to Witchcraft, and it’s been like a homecoming. We’re studying different paths, different people, different ways, and I’m wondering again why I decided to squish myself into one or two compartments. I’ve experimented with circle casting, and parts within me have shifted, to better understand the reality of a multiverse contained around us. I know, on a visceral level, more than I had previously, that words have power, that symbols have power, that will and intent have power. He has urged that I pick up spellwork again, that I study energy work, that I explore more than I have been. Ages ago, it seems, He said, “You’ve locked Me too firmly into the historical and cultural trappings of the past. Let’s move outside of Hellas, shall we? Let us explore the myths and histories and cultures of other places around that glorious Sea.” I balk, of course, not because I want to contain Him within any one place and time, but rather because I do not want to have to have to tackle yet more ancient cultures and histories, especially when many of them are so very complex and far reaching, especially when many of them do not give us the amount of material that Hellas was kind enough to provide.

The other day, coming home, after having listened to this vlog by Anni, my mind was back on the things He’s requested (once it’s better articulated, I’ll be posting about it, but right now it’s still “uuuuugghhh??”) and of dedicating oneself to one’s gods, and holding onto the awe that the divine ones inspire. I suppose I was in a nicely humble frame of mind. Poseidon slide into the seat in front of me, sprawling, more vividly visual than I generally experience, gave me a grin the likes of which I am a sucker for, and said, “Make magick with Me?” He very nearly waggled His divine eyebrows.

There are worlds of nuances in that request, and I’m still reeling. But, I’m still writing this thing that is wonderful and terrible, and I’m still trying to articulate the other request, and I’m reminded again that there are things that I set down that I need to pick up again.

Much will wait until after November is over. But in the meantime, my thoughts are there, stuck on this wonderful One who has given me so much throughout my life. . . .

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3 thoughts on “Make Magic with Me

  1. I’m not sure why either of us decided we needed to wedge ourselves into one or two little categories. I’ve been surprised at my attraction to traditional Wicca, as expressed through Anni’s videos, and I’m not sure why the surprise, since that’s more or less where I started.

  2. Pingback: Craft fairs, NaNoWriMo, Wicca, and The Hunt: Reflections on November | Wytch of the North

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