When my new living arrangements made it very clear that I was not going to be able to share my magic the way I was used to, I… got depressed.
I began to have nightmares. My writing suffered. I was tired all the time. And the stubbornness of my heart and mind refused to let me do anything but brood. Then I saw what my tenacity was doing to my Piano Man—our moods feed off each other, so he was miserable—and I felt like a sack of dung.
The thing about my misery, my Wicked Darlings, is that it doesn’t always like company. I started thinking about ways to change things around. Wait a second… I just noticed I haven’t told you why, and how, my witchy practices changed to the point that I fell into a nasty funk. Well, as many of you already know, I practice sex and dark moon magic. I’ve lived on my own—or have had a private room for my witchery—for a long time. I have been able to leave my spells to charge, in a safe place, for as long as it was required (Dear non magic users, some spells can withstand outside disturbances, but sex and dark moon magic are so wild that certain types of energies can render the them useless). My Piano Man and I share our lives with a 5-year-old inquisitive Princess who—like every child her age—knows the world belongs to her alone, everything in her environment wants to be played with, and shiny things, especially if arranged in a specific order, are “sooo pretty!”
A few weeks ago, I walked inside our apartment, and the Princess grabbed my hand and nearly dragged me to my bedroom. Her face was bright with a suppressed giggle. She pushed my bedroom door, and squealed as she pointed at my altar.
I think I whimpered at the sight.
She probably thought I was rejoicing because she said, “I know! It’s sooo pretty!”
My luvs, I was working on a bunch of spells, some to be delivered by Midsummer and a few due before The First Harvest. One of the spells was a Dark Moon Shield (a protection spell) for a Wiccaning. It was due in three days. I could not replace it in time, for it needed to be charged for 3 dark moons. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t. I just glanced at The Horned God and The Mother, smiled at the fact that the Princess had them facing each other, with The Maiden in the middle posing as their baby (I think)… and then I giggled a strange sound and told her “Yes sweetie, it is sooo pretty!”
I was happy my Piano Man’s parents were visiting, and could stay with the Princess while I went out for a walk. I needed time to come up with the best way to tell an excited mom that the formal ritual to present her child to Nature would not go exactly as she had planned. I was in trouble…
But I’m a very lucky Witch. The mom in question had been trying to get a hold of me for hours prior to the incident. She wanted to make some changes to the spell work. That scare was resolved, but the issues practicing my kind of magic at home had just begun.
In a few days, I’ll share Magaly’s Word Preserves: Can’t Quit Witching, Part II, the details of how I’ve been twisting my magical practices in order to help them fit my witchy needs.
How do you deal with changes, my luvs? And what is the one thing you feel you wouldn’t be able to quit, no matter how hard you tried?