The Forgotten Magic

September 7, 2022

Part Two

Seeing the soul of things

I had a somewhat paradoxical childhood. Most of the time I did not feel like a child, I knew I was older than my years but in a childs body. If you then speak to the adults most of which I am aware are younger than me, as yourself, they do not like it. So I learnt to act like a child, I don’t think I was very good at this. I decided to keep quiet instead. I quickly learnt that some things you especially keep quiet about.

My mother once asked me what I was looking at one night while sat on the sofa. I was bored with what they were watching on the TV and had become distracted by the coloured orbs dancing about the window.

“I’m watching the coloured lights by the window” I replied “look how beautiful they are”.

“There’s nothing there” she snapped looking at me like I have two heads.

“Maybe we should take you to have your eyes corrected if your seeing things” she warned me.

I wanted to protest and was horrified that my vision could be corrected so I would not be be able to see these things but a voice in my head said keep quiet, I shut up and promised myself to keep quiet in the future.

I would often unfocus my eyes to see what cannot be seen. I’d practice on inanimate objects. The clock on the mantelpiece was a favourite. It had a rotating pendulum with three balls underneath. The trick is to be in a trance state before you start staring. This was a lot easier as a child as my mind was a lot less cluttered as it is today. Once calm look at your chosen object but don’t focus in on it, take in the whole scene, keeping your attention on the object. Eventually your vision will shift, I feel this in my ears as well, they buzz a little or feel like the pop you get when there is a pressure change. I liked using the clock as it’s moving pendulum gave colourful tracers as they moved plus it was just a clock, it had no energy attached to it so made a good practice object. If I used the same technique on my favourite toys they would be more animated, being imbued with energy from the personality I had given them.

Some things do not like to be seen.

I was staring out of the window of my Nanna’s flat one day. I had a strange fascination with one of the windows in a large house opposite my Nanna’s. Nanna lived on the thirteenth floor of a block of flats. There was a large expanse of grass outside with a big oak tree in the middle and a few smaller trees dotted about. On the other side of this open space was a large manor house. When left alone in the livingroom I would look out of this window, I always had an intense feeling that someone was watching me from one particular window in the manor house. It was so far away you couldn’t see if there was or not, but I had a weird sense like when you feel someones magic and it’s challenging you, ‘I see you I know what you are’.

Back then everything was more feeling and emotion than words and in my mind I knew in the room that window belonged to, there was a little boy. He was trying to get my attention because he knew we were the same so I understood. He was asking for help. But I’m just a little girl on the thirteenth floor of a block of flats looking out of the window back at someone I can’t even see! Is he really there?

This always made me feel really sad. I wanted to go up to the house and ask if there was someone in that room and I could I speak to them and help, obviously this was not possible.

On one particular day as I stared intently towards the window in the manor house, the large oak tree was caught in my gaze. It’s aura started to shimmer, the whole tree shone with a magenta hue so bright, I took my eyes off the window and marvelled at the beautiful glow of the oak tree pulsating with energy. I could see its very essence, it’s soul. The second my full attention was on the tree, it sent a shock wave so strong I felt like I’d been physically pushed backwards. It hit my solar plexus breaking my trance instantly.

I knew the tree was not happy to be seen and I’d been put in my place. It certainly gave me a greater respect of trees and an awareness that like people some like to be left alone.

Over the last couple of months I’ve been experimenting with ‘unseeing’, I call it ‘unseeing’ because you have to tell your brain to forget it knows what everything is and cultivate a sense that you are trying to see something else. So far I managed to regain the same sense of sight looking at an ornament in my room and I also still have one of my childhood toys which again had more movement than other inanimate objects.

I was a little more apprehensive about try this on any trees. However I plucked up the courage and tried the technique on the palm tree in my garden. It seems friendly enough. This took longer to engage than the inanimate objects I had used. Eventually I managed to get focused, by this point I felt as if I was floating and my sight goes in and out, like you are looking through a camera and zooming in and out, my sight was closer then further away. Then the palm tree was not just a palm tree put a yellow and blue entity with many heads and eyes. I made it clear that I meant no harm and it seemed ok with letting me observe for a while. Then I said thank you for letting me see you and returned to normal sight, although I could still see some of the eyes for a few days every time I looked at the palm tree, this has now faded, unless I consciously look for them.

As a result of these experiments my hynogogic images have become a lot more vivid especially before sleeping.

As for the boy in the window. I did ask my Nanna about the house and if you could go visit. She told me it was a borstal for boys where all the naughty boys went and that you cannot visit as it’s all locked up.

Whether there was someone in that room looking out the window or not I will never know for certain but this is one memory that has stayed with me throughout my life.

Years later I learnt to use the same technique the oak tree had used on me to defend myself from unwanted attention but that’s another story.

Taroting Depression with the Death Card

July 11, 2022

Probably the most misunderstood card in the deck, Death does not foretell your or anyone else’s demise. Death is about cycles ending.

In order to have the new beginning that we humans often yearn for, something needs to end. So that we can make room for the new.

A short (I’ll try to keep it short) but necessary sidebar)

We can’t have a discussion about Depression and the Death card without mentioning suicide. Many of us, if not all of us, who have Depression have considered our own deaths in one form or another.

We may have made a plan, we may have just wished we’d die, we may have engaged in risky behaviors in what they’re now calling “passively suicidal.”

And when we’re at the bottom of the abyss, death seems so peaceful. A way out of all the pain, particularly if you have spiritual or religious beliefs that mean you’ll go somewhere lovely after death.

However, when you’re well, you know that the cost of Death by Depression is far worse than any benefits. And if, like me, you believe in reincarnation, there’s a very good chance you’d only have to come back and go through it all again.

It’s a much better idea to get it sorted this time around.

In my opinion, nobody should believe that their best option is to be dead. Nobody. (Not talking about euthanasia here, that’s a whole different ballgame).

And the only way we’re going to stop suicide in this world is if we create a society where we actively talk about how we feel. Even if we think those feelings will be considered to be weird, stupid, or attention-seeking.

We also have a responsibility to treat other people’s feelings as important as our own. Nobody matters more than anyone else, nobody is better, smarter, or more entitled to…whatever…than anyone else.

Nobody has their shit together all the time. And it’s time we started to acknowledge that. Nobody thinks in exactly the same way as anyone else. And nobody should be alone.

We need to build a world where being “different” in any way, is celebrated, not scorned.

Okay…Alright…Back to the Topic at Hand

The Death Card. Think of it as a bridge. It’s where you go from one place to another. When it appears in a spread, it brings the message that something is about to end so that something new can start.

When we have Depression, endings can be frightening. Beginnings can be frightening too. The Death card can remind us that we are not alone. We have help as we transition, there are others who have walked before us and many who will walk the same route behind us.

Here’s a very simple exercise to help you get a grip on how the Death card can help you manage your Depression.

Grab your journal or a pen and paper
Place the Death card in front of you and spend some time gazing at it, until you feel your eyes glaze over slightly
Then gaze at the card just a few moments more
Answer the following questions:

What new beginning do I want to manifest?

What will have to end for this to occur?

What else might happen when this ends?

By this time, you know the drill. Just let your hand flow and see what comes to you.

Once you’ve finished writing? Write some more. There’s always room to go deeper and it’s usually in those extra minutes when the real insights come to you.

Fiona Tate, AKA the Depression Muse, is a Lilithian Witch, Writer, and Mental Health Mentor. She’s on a mission to reduce the global suicide rate to zero through her Mental Health Membership Site: Black Orchid Alchemy. Follow this link to receive a free copy of her book Depression Sucks, and this link to receive new installments of her online vampire novel: The Childless Mother.

Walking with the Morrigan in Twilight Groves

February 12, 2022

Freepik

I have awoken to the cawing of Crows again, against the barely lit white-washed walls that slump inward unto themselves.
The world shudders with an ice in its heart, and the crows are all stirred up, for the spiritual ecosystem is charged as a broken system lets out its death throes.
Archaic old dictators vie for control, but it slips under their fingernails as the ashes kiss the wind, and I hear Her, ushering in change, tempestuous and unyielding, stalking the grounds like a phantom seeking blood.
Every mirror reflects these cracks, the old and wearied that clings and breaks, the brittle notion of conformity.
The Dark Goddess rises.
The Morrigan rises from deep in the Earth, splitting it twain with a revelation of quaking, emerging beautiful and terrible, her blade slipping from its sheath to deliver the final blow.
I see Her, glorious, those dark raven eyes peering into the bones of my soul, knowing who I am, who I have been, and who I am becoming.
I follow the long shadow of her cape that scatters ink soot feathers across the dirt-trod path, weaving in and out of the liminal spaces between trees and Earth.
Shifting, ever shifting, I follow the path of my Goddess, my Mother, She who saved my life and gave it back to me, over and over.
The Morrigan who has split me in twain and sewn me up, over, and over again, who knows my breaking, my bleeding.
But above all my rising.
My consciousness flits in and out with every breath, visible in the cold that pierces my skin, as we journey ever on.
The chorus of the Corvids peaks, a chatter that drowns out all others, as we reach the threshold once more.

The Morrigan in sacred places.
In time worn groves long forgotten, set to the torch or knife by man, a forest now only of ghosts and memory. Their ancient wisdom held in this place, a testament to when the world was wilder, before this vicious cycle had taken full root and plagued the Earth.

She sits, perched in the centre against a stump covered in moss, and the light bends around Her, defusing through the thick branches that gnarl around one another in greeting.
The very trees speak; a rustle of leaves, a groaning of bark. What secrets they held and hold still, here in the most sacred of places.
Long talons tap against Her blade, screeching in the most uncomfortable of ways, beckoning approach or else retreat.
Knowing this dance, how could I ever call myself Hers if I fled? Never once have I ran from Her, nor denied Her.
I have screamed in rage, in pain, in desperation as Her lessons have broken my spine and stretched my ragged breath thin – but I have never deserted.
Which is why I am here.
Again.
It is time for the last breath of this cycle, a rebirthing, a cleansing from the stagnancy of the outdated, and so, surrounded by feathers and roots, I walk forth, to the waiting eyes of The Morrigan.

Would the talons rake my skin again, I wondered, how deeply would the lesson splinter?
“The world is changing,” She croaks, in that voice outside of time, it mists in and outside of my head, “There is death all around, and the drums are howling, men will try to devastate this Earth once more.”

I cannot deny it has been in my waking thoughts, wondering about the shape of things to come. Knowing that we have all been staring out into the unknown abyss for some time, scuttling for safety like rats on a sinking ship. Chaos has been reigning, and it is not done yet.
The Morrigan simply shifts Her shape within the red mist, collecting the broken, ciphering souls to the Otherworld and on.
Holding the memories within Her, always. Honouring the Dead.

Her hand is on my head, and She weaves Her fingers across my body, forming a sort of armour, all gold and shifting, parts blacker than volcanic soil, glinting with a temporal shift. “There is much to come. Much to do. Much to defend,” She croaks, and I wonder at that.

As the world falls apart and reknits itself, as ever it has done, I wonder about the guiding hand of The Morrigan, and She smiles in that way I know, all red lipped and fanged, where Her Will is undeniable.
None can withstand it. She will come in ferocious as a tide of change, and all will be scattered to the wind.

When it is not safe, who will love me still?” She asks.
My heart aches at that, a single tear falls, for I will.
And to that I shall always hold – and She knows.

In the deepest recesses of those eyes that shimmer with deathlessness, She Knows.

Fashion woman posing near the sea. Dark Queen.

There are so many arguments swirling around as to who deserves to discuss the Morrigan, so many would-be dictators that attack as soon as they feel power slipping from their grasp.
Mirroring the world at large by seeking to dominate, and crush others under their heel, in the name of a Goddess who was never about cruelty.
Only the Christianizing hand sought to paint her thus.
For Morrigan is ancient, primal, powerful – the ever-shifting shape of Sovereignty and Evolution.
You cannot control change, for it seeps in at the corners when you’re dreaming and before you know it takes root in the ground.
The Crow wings bring gusts together and the old system falls, the new Sovereign is crowned, and only the Land remembers.
Humans forget quickly, and with purpose, but the Spiritual Ecosystem holds every truth that ever was, reflecting the course of human memory.
A thousand people believing that they were the one to whom power belonged, and the shadows grew under each of their eyes as they poisoned themselves inside out.
You cannot hold onto power, for that is merely borrowed, and the day comes when it will be returned.
All things fall.
Power instead lies in the resolute conquering only of oneself, to embody the Sacred grove within your soul, and know that to all things there is a cycle. We are nature reflected unto itself, and that makes the disconnect from it all the more painful.
The need to control the narrative is born from a complete lack of understanding that we are all the narrative, memory, and the stories we weave, are all sacred in the Spirit realm.
The Morrigan holds them in her throat, and utters forth prophecy and regales battle worn spirits with tales remembered.
She is in the Land, and the Sea, and the Sky. She walks between all the realms of existence, and ushers in change at every meeting.

You can no more control Her than the shifting wind, or the depths of the Ocean.
It is folly to try.

Move well through the Otherworlds, Starlets
Joey Morris

LESSONS IN MAGICK: The Kali Principle

June 27, 2018

Kali

Image Source: Rajesh Kumar Singh/AP

“Time, for example, is intimately connected with the goddess Kali, which partly accounts for her destructive nature. Energy – in Einstein’s equation, E=MC2 – is personified in India as Shakti in her various guises.”

Roger Housden

It has been nearly 6 years since Shiva and his dance of destruction entered my life leaving the scattered remains of what was in His wake.

One strange, madness filled summer evening I heard his call and felt his presence; it was undeniable and intoxicating. He appeared at a time when I only related to or saw myself in Masculine or Daemonic deities/energies/archetypes.

For some reason, how I viewed myself (rage filled, rebellious and dark) was synonymous with Masculine (Yang) energy.

Eastern Philosophy has always, always been my main source of study (Yes. I mean all of it; I devour as much as I can.)

Throughout my studying Hinduism, oddly more so than Buddhism (which would seem more in line with the LHP) has become a passion of mine, and a Pantheon (and culture) that have become cornerstones of my personal Philosophy and practice as a Witch.

Lord Ganesha, Shiva’s elephant headed son and the remover of obstacles had been present and active in my life a few years beforehand and even still today; in hindsight He was preparing the path for Shiva.

Shiva was preparing the path for Kali.

Though, she needs no help in that department.

Asteroid

I had known Feminine energy because of Hekate and Lilith, but again, when I thought of myself, my rage, my aggression, my fiery passion, and quick temper, it all seemed to be the antithesis of what it meant to be Feminine.

At the time I didn’t see myself as being a balanced, or even fluid individual; I was all rage.

My most natural emotion.

For clarity sake, I am not referring to gender identity. I have always identified as a Woman, but the images society portrayed were nothing like myself; I know many, many Women (and people) can relate to this.

I was one of those “too much” Women.

Which is crazy to think about because I struggled for a long time to take up space, until one day I realized I take up space in this world without trying.

And, so many of my Sisters do too, and they don’t even realize it.

They are all too much Women, as well.

They, like myself, have been told to water themselves down, be less opinionated, be less emotional; don’t be too loud, don’t be too independent, don’t enjoy sex too much.

Don’t be too much.

Too much. Too much. Too much.

It echoes in our heads and hearts.

So, we shrink ourselves.

Our bodies.

Our voices.

Our thoughts.

Our dreams.

We don’t want to be the girl who is too much.

That’s where Kali comes in.

She is the embodiment of the too much Woman.

She is destruction embodied (think of Her as the Tower Card).

She is time.

She is death.

She is justified rage.

She is the void known as the Cosmic Womb.

Womb

The world is in a dark time, I mean there really hasn’t been a time in modern history (or history at all) where it wasn’t dark, but in an age of information and technology the darkness, turmoil, chaos, and divisive tactics surround us.

They are delivered to us through the device you’re holding in your hand right now.

Because of the ability to receive information so quickly we can see in real time what is going on around the world, and close to home; this is a rude awakening for a lot of people who otherwise are blind to the suffering of others.

I see more and more people diverting their path away from religion and back to more earth-based beliefs and practices.

There is a rise in natural, more holistic approaches to health. People in large numbers are going vegetarian and being mindful of their eating habits and the impact they have on the planet. Cities across the world are voting to do away with single use plastic in order to save our planet and oceans.

All of this is happening because Kali’s energy has spread, almost like a virus, throughout the world and the collective at large.

She is doing what she does best: destroying illusions, and deconstructing reality.

People like to romanticize Kali like they do Lilith, but there is nothing romantic about Kali.

She will quite literally, destroy you.

And your life.

Then demand that you rebuild it.

No time for tears.

She teaches discipline and grants us permission to be nothing but authentic.

And, live nothing but authentic lives.

Through Kali I have learned to accept and embrace my rage, as I know now it serves a purpose and has its place.

She taught me that my creativity is my weapon, and I am to use it excessively.

She allowed me to break down the illusions I had built up around me and see the world for what it really is; not through the rose-colored glasses I unknowingly wore.

She taught me that ego is not to be feared but to be accepted and incorporated into our whole.

We are living in a time where the Dark Goddesses rule, and they are teaching us that darkness is energy to be honed and used like all other.

They are teaching us that where we see fault in ourselves lies power.

They are reminding us that darkness is where we come from, and where we shall return.

They are demanding that we re-wild, resist, and rebel.

For this I am grateful.

Jai Maa!

To read about Kali:

Click here

MIGHTY HEKATE: Keyholder of the World!

November 12, 2016

bill

Image: Bill Crisafi

“By Hecate, the goddess I worship more than all the others, the one I choose to help me in this work, who lives with me deep inside my home, these people won’t bring pain into my heart and laugh about it.”

Euripides

There are few deities who seem to have a strong appeal to Witches and Mystics across all paths, one of these deities is Hekate. She is the Greek Goddess of Witchcraft (among other things) and has rule over Heaven, Earth and Sea; a gift she can thank her parents Perses and Asteria for bestowing her with.

The story of Hekate among each path seems to differ slightly; some only consider her to be a Moon Goddess, or part of the Triple Goddess—Persephone and Demeter being the other two but, this is most likely a mistranslation of the myth (in my opinion). Hekate guided Demeter with her torch down into the Underworld to find Persephone; Hekate is, or could be known as a Priestess of Hades, not that she followed his rule or bowed to him, no, no; more like she had domain on his turf.

Talk about girl power.

There are so many layers to this Goddess of the Shadows and folklore surrounding her that it is no surprise she calls out to a wide variety of practitioners.

First let us try to get a basic understanding of who Hekate is.

As mentioned above she is considered by some to be part of the Triple Goddess; Persephone the Maiden, Demeter the Mother and Hekate (Hecate) the Crone.

The most common depiction of Hekate was (obviously) from the Greeks who believed her to be a Goddess of the Three Paths (Triple Roads): Guardian of Hearth and Home, Protector of the newly born, and the Goddess of Witchcraft and Magick.

Other myths go deeper and consider her to be the Goddess of Night, Ghosts, Necromancy, Key Bearer of the World, and Light bringer.

I know a lot of you who are familiar with her energy are probably confused or shocked that she is considered a light bearer when she herself dwells so deep in the shadows but, she carries her torch for a reason.

When we are amid life’s most perilous journey’s this Goddess appears, and helps to guide us through; her tests are not easy, and they are like no other deity I have ever worked with but, her blessings are infinite. She teaches us that with death comes life, and the world we live in is not black and white; it is gray as we are gray, it is neutral as nature is neutral and we are nature.

She teaches us wisdom by forcing us to find the light in the dark; by forcing us to become the light in the dark.

Hekate is known as a Triple Goddess on her own, as well; having the ability to see in all directions always. A trident being one of her symbols, it is clear to see that the number three follows her. So, it is no surprise that she is depicted in art and myth as having ownership of Cerebrus, a three headed Hell Hound.

She has connections to other Goddesses but her Triple figure appears as a three-headed Woman: Dog, Snake (sometimes a Cobra as seen below) and Horse with her famous torch, dagger and skeleton key in hand (again three).

hecate-redux-by-artemisia-synchroma

Image: Artemisia Synchroma

While other depictions have Hekate wearing a Snake, Horse and Boar head. Much like Artemis, animals are Sacred to Hekate.

Hekate is a Goddess for everyone and of everything; she is, in fact, an all-encompassing Goddess who knows when to appear to us as the harsh Old Hag lurking in the Shadows forcing us to make a choice, and change, or the guiding light when we are lost in the dark.

Hekate opens new doorways to us, and as a Goddess of death and the underworld she can walk us through the journey as we cast our skin, go deep into the Earth and come out reborn.

She is both Mother, and Crone, both shadow and light.

She was the first Goddess to ever come to me and the lessons I have learned from her along the way cannot be quantified. She has taught me to accept death and with this acceptance I could release my fear. She has taught me that only through darkness can light be found. And, she has taught me that there is always more than one path; no matter how stuck, lost or confused I am, there is always a choice, there is always a crossroad.

Hekate is a Goddess for both the living and dead, she is a Goddess who is unapologetic and forces us to evaluate ourselves; the Crone wisdom of going within.

She is the Goddess of Witches and without her I would not know my own power.

Hail to Hekate, Keyholder of the World!

Resources for further, deeper reading into this Goddess along with a link to the story of Hekate Enodia:

http://www.theoi.com/Khthonios/Hekate.html

http://www.goddessgift.com/goddess-myths/greek_goddess_Hecate.htm

http://hekatecovenant.com/resources/about-hekate/hekate-goddess-of-magic-sorita-deste/

http://www.hecateslantern.com/2015/04/26/hecate-enodia-before-the-gates/

http://awitchalone.com/crossroads/index.php?post/2016/09/27/Ancient-Necromantic-Practices-in-Averno