Cosmic Reminder Re: Attachment

I am a witch. At this point, I am old and bold enough that I don’t care how it sounds. Lots of people don’t like it, or they think it sounds crazy. Sure. Whatever. Believe what makes you happy. I will continue to do the same. 🙂

Being a witch is a defining part of who I am. Not everyone knows that, of course. Because of this, I have had friends tell me that I should be more out about it, or that they hardly knew about that side of me. That said, there has always been a contingent of others who could smell it a mile away. It’s funny how some people are attuned to it.

I have a confession to make. As a witch, I love the stuff. I am big on candles and incense. I adore the ambience they create. I believe in making a magickal space before any action takes place. Why not? It helps, and it feels lovely!

As you know, I am all about ways of deepening happiness, and this is one thing that just works for me. Soothing music, the dim light of candles and the waft of a little incense smoke…they certainly don’t hurt to get the stink of the mundane off you.

But yeah, it’s easy to get hung up on the stuff. Crystals and dramatic candle holders are great, but they don’t create the magick within.

That’s been an important reminder for me today, although it’s taken me a long time to finally get there.

Remember how thrilled I was about us donating a bunch of stuff? (See my last post with a picture of me taken leaning against blue bags of stuff to donate.) Well, in the tornado of movement from one house to another, something special that I had set aside got moved into the donation pile.

And then it got picked up.

That something was my little case of Wiccan paraphernalia.

Candles. A chalice. My favourite tarot cards…this wasn’t news I took well. The thought of losing all of those deeply personal things felt a bit like hearing, “oopsie, we’ve donated your journal.”

So, with shaking hands and my heart beating a mile a minute, I started dialing numbers. I would up having to explain what I was looking for thrice, which was super-fun, as you know how everyone is totally knowledgeable about neopagans and their various practices. (AKA I got to sound crazy three times in a row.)

Eventually I made contact with someone who could get in contact with the driver. I got a call back within about 20 minutes. The driver has my little mini-trunk now, and I can pick it up this afternoon. Ok.

Not as good as having it back in my hands right-the-fuck-now, but much better than it being missing-in-a-donation-pile.

This has been a big reminder about stuff. Yes, it sucks, but if all of my pretty things go missing, I am no less a witch. I am just a less-encumbered witch. Something I wish I had remembered in the heat of the moment.

Truthfully, I am also amused at the thought of my trunk rocking someone’s world at the receiving depot. Maybe even making someone a little curious about all those collected bits and bobs? Who knows! Folks have started down this path on lesser inspiration than that.

Still, cosmic lesson or not, I will be pleased to have it back again!

Don’t be dumb like I was and leave your important stuff next to the donation pile!

Your in witchiness, even without my accoutrements,


P.S. I am at the new house right now waiting for heat. The oil technician is on their way to help us out. It’s been 13° here all day!! Brrr!!!

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Writer, ranter, singer, weirdo. Enthusiastic about life in general and grammar specifically.

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