LESSONS IN MAGICK: Mirror of Consequence Ritual

August 12, 2026

On the Dark Moon, or on a night when your anger burns clean and bright, place a black candle upon your Altar. Set a mirror behind it (clear or black) and a glass bowl of clean water before it.

Light the black candle and stand before the flame.

Place both hands over your heart and say:

“Ancient Ones,
Guardians of the Crossroads,
Spirits of Justice and Right Order,
Bear witness.
I stand before you not as victim,
but as one who survived.
I stand before you not in weakness,
but in Sovereignty.”

Take a breath and gaze into the mirror.

Then speak:

“The harm was theirs.
The choice was theirs.
The consequence is theirs.
I refuse to carry another’s debt upon my back.”

Pass your hands over your body from head to foot as though gathering and collecting unseen burdens.

Cast them toward the mirror.

Then say:

“I return the shame.
I return the guilt.
I return the silence.
I return the weight that was never mine to bear.
As the river returns to the sea,
as smoke returns to the sky,
so too shall every deed return unto its source.”

Raise your hands and continue:

“I call upon the Powers that govern balance.
I call upon the Spirits who witness truth.
I call upon the Ancient Laws that bind deed to consequence.
May what is hidden be revealed.
May what is false be unveiled.
May every mask crack beneath the weight of truth.
May every action find its rightful harvest.
Not through my hand,
but through the turning of the Wheel.
Through Fate.
Through Conscience.
Through the ancient law of return.”

Touch the surface of the water.

See the ripples.

See your reflection there.

Then say:

“I release the burden of vengeance.
I claim the power of justice.
I release the burden of carrying their darkness.
I claim the power of carrying my own light.
I release their fate to the Gods,
to the Spirits,
to the Ancestors,
and to the turning Wheel.”

Sprinkle a few drops of water upon your brow, heart, and hands.

Anoint thyself.

Then speak these final words:

“What was sent returns.
What was hidden is revealed.
What was broken is restored.
I call my power home.
I call my Spirit home.
I call my life home.
So it is spoken.
So it is woven.
So it is.
So it was.
So it shall be.”

Allow the candle to burn for a time, then extinguish it.

Cover the mirror until dawn, or until you feel is appropriate. When you uncover it, a new light will shine.

Walk away knowing that justice no longer rests upon your shoulders alone.

You are supported.

You are free.

Lux in Tenebris Lucet

To The Woman Who Survived

July 16, 2026

Beloved,

I know there are days when the ghosts return.

Days when memory arrives uninvited,
dragging shadows behind it.

Days when your body remembers
what your mind had long since tucked away
inside Sacred vaults of survival.

And on those days,
I hope you remember this:
You were never the violence.

Not then.
Not now.
Not ever.

What happened to you
passed through your life like a storm,
but it did not become your Soul.

There are those who would measure you
by what was taken.

I measure you
by what remained.

And what remained
was extraordinary.

Is extraordinary.

You remained.

The heart still beating.
The lungs still drawing breath.
The Spirit still refusing to surrender its song.

You do not need to earn your healing.
You do not need to justify your grief.
You do not need to explain why some wounds ache louder than others.

You are allowed to be tender.
You are allowed to be angry.
You are allowed to be both in the same holy breath.

The world may call your scars damage.

I call them evidence.

Evidence that you walked through fire
and somehow carried the flame home.
Evidence that darkness met you
and failed to make you its own.
Evidence that even shattered things
can become Sacred.

So when the memories come,
when sorrow presses its hand against your chest,
when the old ache whispers its familiar lies,
place your hand over your heart.

Feel the rhythm beneath your palm.

Thump, thump
Thump, thump

That is not weakness.
That is not brokenness.
That is your life.

Still choosing itself.
Still choosing itself.
Still choosing itself.

Thump, thump
Thump, thump

And that,
dear Woman,
is a miracle.

You are a miracle.

Jaclyn Cherie

The Nephilim Rising
Girl God Books

All Rights Reserved.

My poem from the upcoming release, Spells for Survivors: Returning to the Holy Her

Pre-order at:

https://www.thegirlgod.com/spells_for_survivors.php

WAR CRY OF THE SURVIVOR

July 16, 2026

They told me to heal quietly.
To make my pain palatable.
To speak in soft tones and careful language.
To forgive before the wound had stopped bleeding.

To be gracious.
To be grateful.
To be anything but angry.

But anger was the first honest thing I had felt.
It arrived like a wildfire through dead timber.
Like a Goddess with blood on Her hands and justice in Her eyes.
Like a howl clawing its way from the deepest part of me.

You called me victim.
I became witness.
You called me broken.
I became weapon.
You called me ruined.
I became revelation.

What happened to me was real.
The terror was real.
The violation was real.
The grief was real.

And so is my rage.

My rage is not a flaw.
It is the part of me that knows I deserved better.

The part that refused to die.
The part that stood guard over the ashes and
whispered:

“No more.”

No more silence.
No more shrinking.
No more carrying shame that was never mine.

I return every ounce of it.
Every lie.
Every burden.
Every poisoned seed.

Take it back.
It belongs to you.

I am done carrying the weight of another’s violence.
I am done apologizing for surviving.
I am done making myself smaller so others can remain comfortable.

I am not what was done to me.

I am what survived.
I am the fire that remained.
The blade that did not break.

The voice that rose from the wreckage.

And when I speak now,

it is not with trembling.

It is with thunder.

Jaclyn Cherie

The Nephilim Rising
Girl God Books

All Rights Reserved.

My second poem from the upcoming release, Spells for Survivors: Returning to the Holy Her

Pre-order at:

https://www.thegirlgod.com/spells_for_survivors.php