#witchy ramble

[thepatchworkcrow]

I'm Back! A Little Update Vlog. I wanted to get back into making videos, so here’s a little update as to what I’ve been up to since I last posted a video.

[thatmalewitch-blog]

Modern-Day Greek Oracle

Google: Oracle of the Internet

[thatmalewitch-blog]

Hmm...

I know a lot of sources say you need focus and a place free of distraction when it comes to making sigils, but I find them different than that, for me and my system they're like a puzzle. There's steps and processes but they're all easy for me to follow. Idk I just feel sigils come easy to me.

[goblinwitch]

does anyone else find the, I don’t know, really language-based nature of a lot of the spells that get passed around difficult?

it’s not that I feel uncomfortable with saying incantations or something, it’s just that a lot of the time it feels to me like it’s an unnecessary filter and it breaks my focus. Sigils appeal to me a lot of the time because they pare the language down to where it’s representational rather than descriptive I guess? but even there I’m more comfortable with sigils that don’t have an alphabetic base.

[serpentandsage]

Sometimes I avoid my tarot cards

Like I hate to be lectured, I know I got things to do. So when my deck won't quit lecturing me I leave it alone for awhile. But the cards it has recently chosen always sticks in my head anyway. Or I see some other sign to remind me! I guess you can't escape divination.

[aint-no-saint-babe]

Fetch

My fetch mate appears to me in dreams. Usually he is an animal of some sort, sometimes he is unseen, but felt. 
Last night he was a dog. A large, wild black dog with a head like an anvil and his white teeth bared. I had to keep him calm, shut up in a small bathroom with grimy tiles and and flickering fluorescent bulbs. I was afraid. Not for myself, and not for him. I was afraid for anyone who may cross the trapped beast’s path. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but I couldn’t watch him always, and there was a chance he could hurt someone else. I’ve dreamt about him like this before: a powerful creature stuck somewhere unequipped to contain it. The first time he was a silverback gorilla, holding me close with massive arms but bellowing at any one else who came near. Most usually he's a raven, with his head tilted in interest and something shiny in his beak.

[aint-no-saint-babe]

Three times down

Three times the earth swallowed me. Three times my spirit slipped beneath the skin of the world and slithered it’s way into the underworld. As a young child I stepped from my body easily, hovering around my house, giggling as I bumped into things and lazily wondering why people didn’t discuss their flying more often. 
Then came school, and bullies, and a realisation that I was different and strange. I lost that part of myself, covered it up, and felt empty for a long time. Moving to the other side of the world at age 10 certainly didn’t help my emptiness. When the novelty of the “new, foreign girl” wore off, the alienation was a million times worse. School became a dreaded place for me, and I turned back to my spirituality for comfort. My soul returned from the underworld with new wisdom, and I was able to fend off the despair until I could change my situation. The next time the distraction was love and heartbreak, like so many others I learnt that losing ones self is never easier than when you're in love, but it's also the most dangerous way to do it. That time I almost didn't come back from the great below. The climb back up was far longer after that fall, years in fact. My healing included discovering the entrance to the path that would lead me best through this life. A crooked path, disguised behind brambles and blackberry bushes, but green and gorgeous when I found it. This time they warned me, this time when they pulled me down they told me that part of me will never come back. Third time down, and this resurrection is like no other. Now "witch" is a name I claim readily, having died thrice for the privilege.

[aint-no-saint-babe]

Come away, oh human child...

I was reading some Fae themed folklore the other day when I was struck with a memory from my childhood. When I was young I spoke to, played with, and was given gifts by some Fae who seemed to have taken a shine to me quite often. One afternoon I was over at a friends and I wanted to show her my wild playmates, so we wandered into the forest behind her home, which was crossed with only by rabbit trails and no true paths. The trees were eerily spaced, we walked for a long time and nothing seemed to change. I had heard no breathy laughter or muttering, I assumed my faery friends did not want to show themselves in front of another. We were going to turn back in defeat when we found the hair. It was long, very coarse, white hair that seemed to have been shed strand by strand, leading us down a straight path through the trees. Being two little girls of around 8, we decided it must be the hair of a unicorn, and followed the trail excitedly deeper into the wood. The further the went, the deeper in I wanted to go, until my friend stopped me short and gave me a fearful look, insisting that she didn't feel good and that we had to run back to her house as fast as we could. I tried to convince her to keep following, promising we'd find the mythical beast if we kept on going, but there was no swaying her. I let her lead me back, not turning back to look at the trail of white dusting the forest floor. Now, knowing what I do about the Fae and their tricky nature, I think I am lucky to have made it home at all. Though I still wonder what might have happened, or what I might have found, if I'd kept following the trail to it's end.