This is my story (v long so have fun)
Has anyone wonder how spiritual journey starts? I sure did. Before I start posting informations/craft ideas, I wanted to talk about my journey—hopefully I can help you if you are struggling with your path of religion. Spirituality always find you, as long as you have an open mind. I grew up in Seoul, Korea. My family believed in several different religions; my grandmother was a Buddhist, my father was a Atheist, and my Aunt was a very very strict Christian (you can already see some drama coming huh?). During my childhood, my grandmother spent majority of her afternoon, while I was in school, with shamans. Her life was heavily influenced by shamanism—one time, she even changed my name because her shaman said so. Crazy, right? But it was very normal in my household, especially since Shamanism is part of Korean culture. During middle-school year, my grandmother decided to move with me to United States to my Aunt’s house for my school. Now everyone in their family has crazy Aunt. Starting from crazy cat Aunt, talkative Aunt, baking Aunt, and so on. My Aunt was just purely crazy. She is so crazy and cruel that Bellatrix doesn’t sound so bad. I lived with her during my childhood for hot minute and wow. Let me tell you, my dad and I moved right back to Korea. So, before my grandmother and I moved to US, my grandmother knew how crazy she was, so she decided to leave all of her religious belongings in Korea—just so you know this means a lot, those were part of her. I didn’t quite understood why she would do such a thing? I knew my Aunt was very religious but I didn’t know what could’ve happened. Living in Christian household (not saying Christians are bad but she was truly evil) my grandmother and I had to become a Christian and be baptized. In my young age, around 5-ish, I was already influenced by my grandmother’s friend (she was this sweetest lady) who was Catholic. She taught me who God was and what he does for us. So I already believed in God but not at that extreme level as my Aunt. Everything that I did was wrong. Everything that I am was wrong. This continued to my high school when I lived with my adopted parents. I was always interested in spirituality, probably because of my grandmother. She didn’t know but now I am thinking, she was a green witch. She loved her plants; she grew every single thing that we ate except meats. She communicated with her plants and taught me how to “talk” to them. Sometimes she would sing to them and they grew and grew. One day during my high-school-rebellious-stage/year, I decided to buy my first tarot card. Crazy right? How dare I buy a “devil’s card” as my adopted mother would say. I played with it in my room, doors locked, and it told me that I will be free soon, all I have to do is wait and it will come to me. My parents found my tarot cards that was hidden under my bed, very deep, and told me that I jeopardized their and their children’s safety. At one point, it got so bad that I decided to leave them, so I guess my tarot reading was correct, all I had to do is follow my heart. I didn’t find my religion right away, I was too scared and too guilty to change my religion after getting brain washed. Not until I met my sister (from another mister). We met through our old job. First time hanging out, she dropped W bomb—witch—and I was so confused. I asked my self, “Wait, do they truly exist? And they don’t worship Satan?” She slowly introduced me to her religion and it was so beautiful that I cried when I got home. I was so confused and blinded by the beauty of being my own self. I started to practice very simple things, such as working with candles, crystals, and herbs. I wanted to honor my grandmother by using herbs and plants first, since she raised me to be comfortable enough to be around them.
I still believed, and still believe in Christian God, and that will never change. I learned that I don’t have to follow rules with spirituality; I don’t have to believe in certain gods or goddesses to call myself a witch, and most importantly, I don’t ever have to feel trapped and view myself as a horrible sinner because someone said so. I am my own self, and I finally found myself through my religion. Of course, that doesn’t mean that I am a perfect human being, I mean, who is? So, be yourself. Be happy. World is not a comfortable place, so at least we should be comfortable with our own religion, don’t you think?