Posts Tagged With: Loreena McKennitt

Mundane Magick

Mundane Magick

Author:   Soull the University Witch 

There are days in which I find myself feeling as if I have forgotten that I am, indeed, a Witch.

When I walk past the living room, I spare a glance with brown eyes at the small altar my partner Lore and I have crafted together using beautiful objects I have collected over the year of us being together. Our first chalice of red and clear glass, the miniature cast iron cauldron, and the brass lantern I had acquired years ago when I was thirteen. I still had it in my possession, even after over ten years. These objects, as well as many others, sat atop a wooden shelf, alone.

They gathered dust far quicker than the speed in which the days passed.

The daily grind can get to a person. The day passes, and you head to bed. Your head touches the pillows, and underneath the warmth of your secure blankets, you fall asleep. The sun rises. The day comes, and you awaken, pull on your clothes, and head out the door. You work. You eat. You come home. After commencing daily tasks, and wind down, you’re heading back to bed again. You may pass many, many days, allowing them to lapse in the same way over and over again, until you realize…

…Where have they gone?

On that shelf, the dust is still there.

It’s easy to forgot, amidst the glamour of the media and our own personal fantasies… that being a Witch does not necessarily mean living up that name at every opportunity. All of that is a front. Not all of us can remember to toss a prayer or thanks to the God and Goddess when something pleasant comes our way, or thank the patrons when a spell we may have managed to squeeze in a couple of weeks ago finally comes to fruition. That’s all right. The God and Goddess can forgive us for our thoughtlessness once in awhile. There are Sabbats that we may find ourselves forgetting about, or end up not having the time to celebrate it at all, not with all the other “mundane” holidays we may have to prepare for (cramming Thanksgiving in between Samhain and Yule, for example) . Often times, a full moon passes us, and there is no spell casting, nor celebration.

It just passes us by.

…Or does it?

It is during these days in which I sit, my laptop computer warm against my legs as I lean against my floral print couch and stare into my cup of tea that I think… what does it really mean to be a Witch? Or rather… am I really doing all that is needed to call myself a Witch?

Even now, I ask these questions of myself that I thought I had answered years ago.

Doesn’t everybody?

It all boils down to something that magick-users alike perhaps forget. We may hear it often, but there is very little within ourselves that helps to drive it home. No, you do not need to cast spells everyday in order to be called a Witch. No, you’re not required to be in a coven to be a Witch. No, there is no need to throw yourself out into the backyard every full moon and dance under it skyclad in order to call yourself a Witch. That’s just crazy talk.

“But what about the days outlined above?”, you may ask. “The days that pass again and again, and I forget, and forget, and when I look upon my altar, or at my spell books or Book of Shadows, and its not lined with words I have written of my rituals… but with dust?”

I’ve learned, while being a Witch… the days that you are not practicing magick are what truly define you.

Read about the day I had today:

Today, my alarm went off at 9:50am. I had stayed up late the night before, meticulously adjusting the Twitter feed for my blog. I hit the snooze button three times, and cuddled into Lore. I finally rose at 10:05am. I needed to get ready for work. I shuffled out of bed, and checked my email, looking over my bank account. My paycheck had rolled in sometime the previous day. I turned on Loreena McKennitt on iTunes, and slowly got dressed for work in the usual black suit uniform. I skipped on breakfast, and soon, I had to run out the door. I ran back into the bedroom to grab my promise ring—the one I had chosen specifically for the month of November, an orange topaz—and I kissed Lore three times on the cheek. “I love you”, then out the door. I whistled and looked up at the clouds, and I attempted to foresee the rest of the day in them. Cloudy, but calm… a slight breeze. I felt that my air element was at my side. It couldn’t be a bad day, right? When I arrived at work, I was late. I ran into Santa Claus as I sped through Nordstrom to make it to the management office of the large shopping center. He smiled and wished me a “Merry Christmas”; I smiled back and replied, “Have a happy Yule.” I ran up the two escalators to make it to the top floor. I tore through the mall to the other end. I pulled out my keys, smiled to the lone Eye of Horus keychain I kept on it, and escaped into the office. I clocked in, and ran back downstairs, and the workday began. During the day, three children had become lost in the shopping center. I sat with one girl and asked her how her Halloween went. I told her about the tradition of wearing masks to scare away the bad spirits. Her mother came, and I thanked the God and Goddess she hadn’t been left behind. I looked up the Harry Potter Blu-Ray box set I was planning on buying a friend for Yule. I thought about what kind of wand I would have if I were in Harry Potter. I was nudged out of my elaborate daydream of running my own metaphysical shop when my shift ended, and it was time to go home. I bought a tin of Godiva hot chocolate for the home, and matching socks for Lore and I, just because I wanted to buy a small gift. As I waited for the bus to come pick me up, I found a heads up penny. I chimed the usual “good luck” phrase as I tucked it into my pocket. When I arrived home after a pleasant day, I entered the keypad code to our apartment—an intricate star-and-number pattern.

It was a day like all days. No spell work. No magick. I passed the altar… and it was still dusty.

But when I looked back over my day… I knew for certain, I was a Witch through and through. How?

I had been tired because I had been working on my blog about being a witch. I hit my alarm three times—I always did. Three is a powerful number, and.. third time is the charm. I turned on Loreena McKennitt to listen to the song “All Souls Night”. My promise ring was the birthstone for November, because I had read that a stone’s magick was strongest when worn during the month it had been assigned to… and I always wanted Lore and I’s love to be at its strongest. While walking to the bus stop for work, I attempted to have a hand at nephomancy: the art of divining clouds. I thought about my element when a wind fluttered by. When I met Santa in the make-up section as I breezed through, I hadn’t wished him a “Merry Christmas”, but a “Happy Yule” without a passing thought. My keychain is adorned with the Eye of Horus, so they would always be in sight (though I still lose them, ha ha) . I taught a little girl about Gaelic culture. I thanked my patrons when she was returned safely to her mother. Harry Potter; does more need to be said? I dreamed about future aspirations of being surrounded by magick in a new age shop, thinking of what I would sell, what I would wear, and how I would run it. I still believe heads up pennies are magickal and are capable of bringing good fortune. My home’s keycode was thought out using shapes and numerology.

This is how I know.

When you are a Witch… even when living the life of a mundane…

Magick is everywhere.

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Mundane Magick

Mundane Magick

Author: Soull the University Witch

There are days in which I find myself feeling as if I have forgotten that I am, indeed, a Witch.

When I walk past the living room, I spare a glance with brown eyes at the small altar my partner Lore and I have crafted together using beautiful objects I have collected over the year of us being together. Our first chalice of red and clear glass, the miniature cast iron cauldron, and the brass lantern I had acquired years ago when I was thirteen. I still had it in my possession, even after over ten years. These objects, as well as many others, sat atop a wooden shelf, alone.

They gathered dust far quicker than the speed in which the days passed.

The daily grind can get to a person. The day passes, and you head to bed. Your head touches the pillows, and underneath the warmth of your secure blankets, you fall asleep. The sun rises. The day comes, and you awaken, pull on your clothes, and head out the door. You work. You eat. You come home. After commencing daily tasks, and wind down, you’re heading back to bed again. You may pass many, many days, allowing them to lapse in the same way over and over again, until you realize…

…Where have they gone?

On that shelf, the dust is still there.

It’s easy to forgot, amidst the glamour of the media and our own personal fantasies… that being a Witch does not necessarily mean living up that name at every opportunity. All of that is a front. Not all of us can remember to toss a prayer or thanks to the God and Goddess when something pleasant comes our way, or thank the patrons when a spell we may have managed to squeeze in a couple of weeks ago finally comes to fruition. That’s all right. The God and Goddess can forgive us for our thoughtlessness once in awhile. There are Sabbats that we may find ourselves forgetting about, or end up not having the time to celebrate it at all, not with all the other “mundane” holidays we may have to prepare for (cramming Thanksgiving in between Samhain and Yule, for example) . Often times, a full moon passes us, and there is no spell casting, nor celebration.

It just passes us by.

…Or does it?

It is during these days in which I sit, my laptop computer warm against my legs as I lean against my floral print couch and stare into my cup of tea that I think… what does it really mean to be a Witch? Or rather… am I really doing all that is needed to call myself a Witch?

Even now, I ask these questions of myself that I thought I had answered years ago.

Doesn’t everybody?

It all boils down to something that magick-users alike perhaps forget. We may hear it often, but there is very little within ourselves that helps to drive it home. No, you do not need to cast spells everyday in order to be called a Witch. No, you’re not required to be in a coven to be a Witch. No, there is no need to throw yourself out into the backyard every full moon and dance under it skyclad in order to call yourself a Witch. That’s just crazy talk.

“But what about the days outlined above?”, you may ask. “The days that pass again and again, and I forget, and forget, and when I look upon my altar, or at my spell books or Book of Shadows, and its not lined with words I have written of my rituals… but with dust?”

I’ve learned, while being a Witch… the days that you are not practicing magick are what truly define you.

Read about the day I had today:

Today, my alarm went off at 9:50am. I had stayed up late the night before, meticulously adjusting the Twitter feed for my blog. I hit the snooze button three times, and cuddled into Lore. I finally rose at 10:05am. I needed to get ready for work. I shuffled out of bed, and checked my email, looking over my bank account. My paycheck had rolled in sometime the previous day. I turned on Loreena McKennitt on iTunes, and slowly got dressed for work in the usual black suit uniform. I skipped on breakfast, and soon, I had to run out the door. I ran back into the bedroom to grab my promise ring—the one I had chosen specifically for the month of November, an orange topaz—and I kissed Lore three times on the cheek. “I love you”, then out the door. I whistled and looked up at the clouds, and I attempted to foresee the rest of the day in them. Cloudy, but calm… a slight breeze. I felt that my air element was at my side. It couldn’t be a bad day, right? When I arrived at work, I was late. I ran into Santa Claus as I sped through Nordstrom to make it to the management office of the large shopping center. He smiled and wished me a “Merry Christmas”; I smiled back and replied, “Have a happy Yule.” I ran up the two escalators to make it to the top floor. I tore through the mall to the other end. I pulled out my keys, smiled to the lone Eye of Horus keychain I kept on it, and escaped into the office. I clocked in, and ran back downstairs, and the workday began. During the day, three children had become lost in the shopping center. I sat with one girl and asked her how her Halloween went. I told her about the tradition of wearing masks to scare away the bad spirits. Her mother came, and I thanked the God and Goddess she hadn’t been left behind. I looked up the Harry Potter Blu-Ray box set I was planning on buying a friend for Yule. I thought about what kind of wand I would have if I were in Harry Potter. I was nudged out of my elaborate daydream of running my own metaphysical shop when my shift ended, and it was time to go home. I bought a tin of Godiva hot chocolate for the home, and matching socks for Lore and I, just because I wanted to buy a small gift. As I waited for the bus to come pick me up, I found a heads up penny. I chimed the usual “good luck” phrase as I tucked it into my pocket. When I arrived home after a pleasant day, I entered the keypad code to our apartment—an intricate star-and-number pattern.

It was a day like all days. No spell work. No magick. I passed the altar… and it was still dusty.

But when I looked back over my day… I knew for certain, I was a Witch through and through. How?

I had been tired because I had been working on my blog about being a witch. I hit my alarm three times—I always did. Three is a powerful number, and.. third time is the charm. I turned on Loreena McKennitt to listen to the song “All Souls Night”. My promise ring was the birthstone for November, because I had read that a stone’s magick was strongest when worn during the month it had been assigned to… and I always wanted Lore and I’s love to be at its strongest. While walking to the bus stop for work, I attempted to have a hand at nephomancy: the art of divining clouds. I thought about my element when a wind fluttered by. When I met Santa in the make-up section as I breezed through, I hadn’t wished him a “Merry Christmas”, but a “Happy Yule” without a passing thought. My keychain is adorned with the Eye of Horus, so they would always be in sight (though I still lose them, ha ha) . I taught a little girl about Gaelic culture. I thanked my patrons when she was returned safely to her mother. Harry Potter; does more need to be said? I dreamed about future aspirations of being surrounded by magick in a new age shop, thinking of what I would sell, what I would wear, and how I would run it. I still believe heads up pennies are magickal and are capable of bringing good fortune. My home’s keycode was thought out using shapes and numerology.

This is how I know.

When you are a Witch… even when living the life of a mundane…

Magick is everywhere.

Categories: Articles | Tags: , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

When Walking The Path, Wear Shoes

When Walking The Path, Wear Shoes

Author: Charmed Boy

I have often asked myself, “Are there others like me?” I am what I like to call a “non- magical” Pagan. I don’t do spell work or ritual. I am just a humble servant of the Goddess. I have tried to cast spells and perform rituals but it never seems to work. I have come to the realization that there are many different types of Pagans out there. There are those of use who cast circles and spells and perform rituals. There are also those like myself who are contented to just be of service.

I began my journey in my sophomore year of high school. I had always known there was something or someone watching over me, I just hadn’t figured what that was yet. I began studying various religions such as Buddhism and Quabalah, which I am still interested in after all these years.

One day I was at the library with my father when I came across the New Age section. I looked at some of the titles and when I found a book on Wicca, I picked it up and started reading.

A friend from high school was also into Wicca. We started wearing black clothing and pentacles. My high school had its various groups. The jocks, the preps, the goths. We were the Witches. Or so we thought. We would meet at a friend’s house and try and cast spells. There is a line from one of my favorite “witchy” movies Practical Magic that applies here: “You can’t practice Witchcraft while looking down your nose at it.” That is, in a sense, what we were doing. We were teenagers. We didn’t know any better.

Later, I discovered Gaia. I was reading a book about various Greek Gods and Goddesses and when I came to the part about Gaia something inside me clicked. For those who don’t know (and I am sure there aren’t very many) , Gaia is the Greek Goddess of Earth. She is the creator of everything that exists in nature. The birds and the winds and the oceans. That is why she is called “Mother Earth”. I felt like I had found what I had been looking for.

I had been hearing a gentle voice in my head comforting me when things went wrong. No, I wasn’t turning into Norman Bates! I had no desire to run a motel or dress in woman’s clothes and chase anyone around with sharp butcher knives. I knew this loving, caring voice could be none other than the Goddess speaking to me.

After High School, I moved from Illinois to Arkansas with my parents. I was bummed because I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know if there were any Pagans and Wiccans. I was entering part of the “Bible Belt”. To my amazement, I came across WitchVox.com. I noticed that an event called Pagan Pride Day was going on in Little Rock. I asked my dad if we could go. My father has been supportive of my choice of religion since I first talked with him about it.

On the day we went, I popped a Loreena McKennitt cd in the car’s cd player to get us in the mood. I had never been to an event like PPD and I didn’t know what to expect. The event was being held at a place called Burns Park. We didn’t know where to go, so we stopped at the visitors’ center to ask. The man behind the desk looked up at me when I asked him where the event was and said, “Are you one of them Witch people?” I laughed and said I was. He was smiling when he asked me so I knew he meant no harm.

We followed the directions until we came to a group of tents. We parked and walked across to the entrance. At this point, I was buzzing with excitement. There was the scent of patchouli in the air. We paid the entrance fee and looked around us. There were tents arranged in a circle. We walked around and looked at all the things people were selling. One woman was doing henna tattoos. My dad bought me my first pentacle. We came to a tent where two women were selling homemade perfume and body spray. This was where the patchouli scent was coming from.

I picked up a bottle and smelled it. It smelled like mint and patchouli. One of the women saw me holding the bottle and struck up a conversation with me. Little did I know she would become one of my best friends. She told me her name was Fran and she was the High Priestess of a coven. She held rituals and celebrated the holidays from the circle she had built in the back yard of her trailer. She invited me to attend the next holiday, which was Samhain. We e-mailed each other and on Samhain I went to her house with another friend. When I got there and saw the Circle she had built I was blown away. It was beautiful. The moment I took off my shoes and stepped inside the circle I felt its power and was at peace.

My friend was not Pagan and opted to observe. I had a lot of fun that night. I tasted mead for the first time. It is very good but very strong. Fran and I kept in touch through e-mail and by phone. I was able to attend the next PPD. When I got there Fran was talking with a friend of hers. She ran a tent with friends. When I went up to her to say hello, she didn’t recognize me at first. When I told her who I was she hugged me. We spent most of the day together. She made my father feel welcome. There was entertainment and belly dancing. After it was over and everyone began packing, I was walking to the car with my father when Fran called to me. She gave me a homemade besom her friend had made. A besom is a broom used to clear any negative energy from a room. I will never forget the gift she gave me as long as I live.

The last time I saw Fran was at the last PPD I went to. She was hosting a seminar on Egyptian Gods and Goddesses and history. After that, Fran and I lost touch. One day I decided to e-mail her just to see how she was. We hadn’t spoken for a while, but not because of any hostility between us; we were just busy. I received an e-mail from her husband informing me Fran had passed away. I was heartbroken.

I miss Fran a lot. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about her. She was a wonderful, courageous woman who loved to laugh and enjoyed the occasional dirty joke. I thank the Goddess every day for the privilege of having known her. One thing I took away from attending the rituals at Fran’s was the realization that spells casting and ritual isn’t for me. I am content with just serving the Goddess to the best of my abilities.

What do I hope you take from this article? Be content in your own skin. So you don’t cast spells. So you don’t do ritual. You are serving the God and or Goddess by praying and making offerings. They are spiritual Parents and They love us whether we choose to perform an elaborate ritual… or just to say a prayer and make an offering.

Also, cherish the time you have with your friends. You never know when they might not be there anymore.

Cast your eyes to the ocean. Cast your soul to the sea. When the dark night seems endless, please remember me.” — Loreena McKennitt

Categories: Articles | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

When Walking The Path, Wear Shoes

When Walking The Path, Wear Shoes

Author: Charmed Boy

I have often asked myself, “Are there others like me?” I am what I like to call a “non- magical” Pagan. I don’t do spell work or ritual. I am just a humble servant of the Goddess. I have tried to cast spells and perform rituals but it never seems to work. I have come to the realization that there are many different types of Pagans out there. There are those of use who cast circles and spells and perform rituals. There are also those like myself who are contented to just be of service.

I began my journey in my sophomore year of high school. I had always known there was something or someone watching over me, I just hadn’t figured what that was yet. I began studying various religions such as Buddhism and Quabalah, which I am still interested in after all these years.

One day I was at the library with my father when I came across the New Age section. I looked at some of the titles and when I found a book on Wicca, I picked it up and started reading.

A friend from high school was also into Wicca. We started wearing black clothing and pentacles. My high school had its various groups. The jocks, the preps, the goths. We were the Witches. Or so we thought. We would meet at a friend’s house and try and cast spells. There is a line from one of my favorite “witchy” movies Practical Magic that applies here: “You can’t practice Witchcraft while looking down your nose at it.” That is, in a sense, what we were doing. We were teenagers. We didn’t know any better.

Later, I discovered Gaia. I was reading a book about various Greek Gods and Goddesses and when I came to the part about Gaia something inside me clicked. For those who don’t know (and I am sure there aren’t very many) , Gaia is the Greek Goddess of Earth. She is the creator of everything that exists in nature. The birds and the winds and the oceans. That is why she is called “Mother Earth”. I felt like I had found what I had been looking for.

I had been hearing a gentle voice in my head comforting me when things went wrong. No, I wasn’t turning into Norman Bates! I had no desire to run a motel or dress in woman’s clothes and chase anyone around with sharp butcher knives. I knew this loving, caring voice could be none other than the Goddess speaking to me.

After High School, I moved from Illinois to Arkansas with my parents. I was bummed because I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know if there were any Pagans and Wiccans. I was entering part of the “Bible Belt”. To my amazement, I came across WitchVox.com. I noticed that an event called Pagan Pride Day was going on in Little Rock. I asked my dad if we could go. My father has been supportive of my choice of religion since I first talked with him about it.

On the day we went, I popped a Loreena McKennitt cd in the car’s cd player to get us in the mood. I had never been to an event like PPD and I didn’t know what to expect. The event was being held at a place called Burns Park. We didn’t know where to go, so we stopped at the visitors’ center to ask. The man behind the desk looked up at me when I asked him where the event was and said, “Are you one of them Witch people?” I laughed and said I was. He was smiling when he asked me so I knew he meant no harm.

We followed the directions until we came to a group of tents. We parked and walked across to the entrance. At this point, I was buzzing with excitement. There was the scent of patchouli in the air. We paid the entrance fee and looked around us. There were tents arranged in a circle. We walked around and looked at all the things people were selling. One woman was doing henna tattoos. My dad bought me my first pentacle. We came to a tent where two women were selling homemade perfume and body spray. This was where the patchouli scent was coming from.

I picked up a bottle and smelled it. It smelled like mint and patchouli. One of the women saw me holding the bottle and struck up a conversation with me. Little did I know she would become one of my best friends. She told me her name was Fran and she was the High Priestess of a coven. She held rituals and celebrated the holidays from the circle she had built in the back yard of her trailer. She invited me to attend the next holiday, which was Samhain. We e-mailed each other and on Samhain I went to her house with another friend. When I got there and saw the Circle she had built I was blown away. It was beautiful. The moment I took off my shoes and stepped inside the circle I felt its power and was at peace.

My friend was not Pagan and opted to observe. I had a lot of fun that night. I tasted mead for the first time. It is very good but very strong. Fran and I kept in touch through e-mail and by phone. I was able to attend the next PPD. When I got there Fran was talking with a friend of hers. She ran a tent with friends. When I went up to her to say hello, she didn’t recognize me at first. When I told her who I was she hugged me. We spent most of the day together. She made my father feel welcome. There was entertainment and belly dancing. After it was over and everyone began packing, I was walking to the car with my father when Fran called to me. She gave me a homemade besom her friend had made. A besom is a broom used to clear any negative energy from a room. I will never forget the gift she gave me as long as I live.

The last time I saw Fran was at the last PPD I went to. She was hosting a seminar on Egyptian Gods and Goddesses and history. After that, Fran and I lost touch. One day I decided to e-mail her just to see how she was. We hadn’t spoken for a while, but not because of any hostility between us; we were just busy. I received an e-mail from her husband informing me Fran had passed away. I was heartbroken.

I miss Fran a lot. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about her. She was a wonderful, courageous woman who loved to laugh and enjoyed the occasional dirty joke. I thank the Goddess every day for the privilege of having known her. One thing I took away from attending the rituals at Fran’s was the realization that spells casting and ritual isn’t for me. I am content with just serving the Goddess to the best of my abilities.

What do I hope you take from this article? Be content in your own skin. So you don’t cast spells. So you don’t do ritual. You are serving the God and or Goddess by praying and making offerings. They are spiritual Parents and They love us whether we choose to perform an elaborate ritual… or just to say a prayer and make an offering.

Also, cherish the time you have with your friends. You never know when they might not be there anymore.

Cast your eyes to the ocean. Cast your soul to the sea. When the dark night seems endless, please remember me.” — Loreena McKennitt

Categories: Articles | Tags: , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

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