Dead People Like Me.

Dead People Like Me.


I’ve been given the gift to move with ease through the worlds, with great heart and spirit…

“Circumvent the tension! Circumvent the pain!“ Marcelline says, but she has nothing to do with all this. I will talk about you later, if you don’t mind.

The thing is, Dead people like me. Dead people have started talking to me. DEAD PEOPLE! The cracks in the veil are just enough so that the things in between shadows catch my eye. Death has been everywhere in my life recently, and the Universe is saying, “You can’t escape it, my dear. Not even in your post-beltaine-hit-it-hit-it-yeah afterglow”. I’m not afraid, just curiously amused. We also have a little bit of clairaudience is all up in this witch’s ears. I’ve heard faint Beatles-esque pop and weird tamboura sounding music faintly playing. It’s not the first time of course, but the frequency and intensity has increased. I was thinking maybe I had tinnitus, but my doctor said nope! My ears are fine.

 Marcelline is a part of it, I suppose. I didn’t think about it before, but she’s a dead person! She’s the first dead person who isn’t one of my grandparents that’s contacted me. This is HUGE stuff, when you consider it in relation to my Persephone path and my craft. Maybe death is my craft… It’s all over me like flies to honey.

 Yet, I’m not afraid. Fear and anxiety was stamped out by Kali-Ma’s blackened and burnt foot. Still, there is nothing to fear. It doesn’t even bother me that much. I have a bit more to learn, but that doesn’t bother me. The foundation is solid, and I’m ready to do the work. It won’t be easy, of course.

The Dead Man’s Party of 2012 is just getting started!

For now, I’ve got a little more time to relax in my current Mundanish phase. I’m enjoying my life as it is, right now. It’s been an amazingly mellow and lovely spring. Just being able to say “Hey, I’m a witch, and that’s okay” has helped me. My sudden catapulting into the priestesshood has humbled me. I can breathe. It’s all okay.

Still, there is work to be done! Spirit is persistent!

Through re-embracing my witchiness, I’ve come back to the sympathetic stuff that works. No occult or ceremonial ambitions here, for me low magick is where it’s at. It’s been a while since I went fireballs out and did some candle magick. I did a month-long working that I sort of botched. I’ve gone back over it, and I know what went wrong. Still, it’s yielded some surprising results.

I am blessed with a foundation of abundance, so I can move with ease through the worlds.

CLEAR VOICE (my sort-of-sometimes guide) informed me, deadpan as ever, that I was given this gift but I was to use it with great heart and spirit.

I move through the worlds with ease, in great heart and deep spirit.

I have a little work to do to figure out what the last part means, but I also have a little time.

A lot of people close to me have had loved ones pass very suddenly, just within the last two weeks. Something tells me that when the time is right, I might be called to help.

With great heart and spirit, I’ll be ready.

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Be Here Now, Witch!

Be Here Now, Witch!


I’ve really gotten back to my roots over the last few months, in a spectacularly wickity-wacky kind of way. A little Lord and Lady never hurt anyone.  While I’m not Wiccan, I’ve been digging back into some of my old favorites over the last few months. There is something there for me in it, at least for this spring.

I’ve only had a few Sarasvati days, where the sun busts through black clouds, making my head pound as she does her work. A little knock or two from Shiva, but other than that nada.

It’s not like my gods to be so quiet, but I’ve figured out why.

This spring is really about Nature than it is about any particular god or goddess. I’m skipping to the dirty parts of Paganism… Nature itself! Not so much in the pantheistic sense. God=Nature=The Universe. The world awakens in Spring. I’m such a damn Persephone that I get really into it. SPRING… FUCK YEAH! Most springs, Nature is the canvas and whatever God or Goddess that drifts into my periphery is the star of the show.

This year? Nature is the star! I’m continuing my Persephone and Hecate work, of course, by focusing on the Lord and Lady in a more general sense has freed my senses up.

The oak trees know something that I don’t, but I’m not in the mood to be overly philosophical. One thing the gods assure me, “You will always have more than enough of what you need.” Ideas, knowledge, and my adventures with the gods are not going anywhere. I have plenty of time to read more. Explore more. Yet for now, I’ve accepted that it’s alright to keep it simple, and enjoy what my path adds to my life instead of letting it consume me.Which it can, depending on what you’re working on…

This is exactly what I asked Amma for. I wanted to balance my MunDanish life with my magickal one.

I have. Right now, my guide says “Be here now, witch”. 🙂

Hecate Shines A Light

Hecate Shines A Light


I’m crying, and I don’t know why.

I should know why. I always know. People don’t always take kindly to this, even though I seldom tell them as much.

I realize when it started

I try to understand where others are coming from, and extend them consideration, kindness, and assistance if I am in a position to provide it.

You never have to ask me. I will anticipate your need, and I will most likely offer, gladly.

But when you can’t extend me some of the same kindness, I’m not going to be nearly as responsive or ready to help. With my family, I’ve been suckered again and again. I don’t suffer fools who are too foolish to learn from their mistakes at least once or twice, family or not. 

I don’t waste sympathy on those who had the means to know better, then chose to ignore the warning signs, reacting out of pride rather than reason, while then having the audacity to whine about it while taking zero personal accountability? Sympathy? Yeah. No. Sympathize my boot meeting your ass.

My clan does a lot of this, on both sides. I’m always working towards better. I can do better, I will do better, and then I figure out how. I admit to my fuckery and failings, and learn from them. I’ll admit when I’m wrong, and where I’ve wronged, and will fight to make it right.

I miss my grandfather. Part of me thinks he’s the only one of them that might have understood. He wasn’t perfect, but he was ethical, reasonable, practical, yet kind. He understood how to act out of pride and humility, without ever risking his integrity. Which he had a lot of. 

I can’t count on my family for anything, and it makes me sad. I’ve had to be more independent because of it. I’m here now because of it. Maybe this is how I’ve come to have integrity as well.

They’re family. I love them anyways, but I’m through investing my emotional well-being in their melodrama and lack of foresight. I’ve died many times over and over on the inside, with little help from them clawing my way out from the grave.

I’m walking with Hecate and Hestia for now. I’ve got a light. Seeing things clearly for what they are is spinefully painful and sharp, like a thumbtack in your pinky toe.

The old woulds bubble up and spill out, and I see them not with fresh eyes but experienced ones.

When you shoot from Maiden, fuck Mother motherfucker, and go straight for the Crone, I guess this is what happens.

I’m so weary, yet alive and on fire. It’s not bad.

In fact, it’s pretty fucking good

Life With Trees, and Trees of Life

Life With Trees, and Trees of Life


an offering to a favorite tree!
an offering to my favorite tree!

My upstairs bathroom window is the best place to meditate.

Our backyard is open with no fences, allowing wildlife to get their wild lives on like Donkey Kong. It’s a good thing. I’ve seen deer, wild turkeys, squirrels, a fox, the haggard calico kitty from next door, and all sorts of birds. My funny little pagan kitten Pinky often joins me. I gaze out the window, I smoke, snuggle with my baby boy, and empty my mind of everything except the trees.

I’ve always loved trees. When I was seven, I devised a scheme to open a café in a treehouse in Old Oakie, the huge oak tree in our front pasture. Nicely trimmed hedges and neatly clipped lawns were for city people or at least the people that lived “in town”. We did not live “in town”. The closest kid my age to play with lived three miles away. If my family would have stayed in the city, I doubt I would have become a pagan. A magician of some kind? Probably. My spidey sense tells me, Hermetics probably. But a witch? The sort of person who likes to touch rocks and trees because they are lovely and part of nature, and for no other reason? Yeah. I just don’t think it would have happened if not for growing up surrounded by groves of oaks, huge rock outcroppings, and cow shit.

You can’t truly embrace Nature, until you’ve had a semi-warm cow-pie hit you smack in the face. Nice one, bro! I hate my fucking brother. I mean I love him, but really?! Shit in the face, or anywhere else for that matter, humbles you.

CLEAR VOICE SAYS: “Everywhere you turn around, we’ve all got bullshit going down!”

CV, my guide, has a rather wry and droll sense of humor. They would also like to add that they prefer to be called CLEAR VOICE of WISDOM(!!!). I’ll think about it.

Somehow shit was responsible for making Old Oakie grow. The ranch was mostly black oaks, so this tree stood out. It was an almost perfectly shaped white oak, tall as a mall parking garage, with mistletoe hanging from it. This tree made a pagan out of me. What other people (namely my mother) felt in church, I felt sitting outside.

I live in a place now that seems the have the best of both worlds. Just enough nature to keep my spirits up, with a bit of wilderness, within close proximity to a Taco Bell. You know… just in case the Taco Gods need to get their grub on. I can’t sit in my back yard, not yet. It’s very very open, and we need to work on privacy fencing or lattice. The bathroom window is the best place in the house to be with it in the best kind of way. And Pinky hangs out with me! This annoys our big cat, The Brain.

There are five different kinds of trees in our “yard”. Two kinds of pine, and three types of oak.

It was here that I first saw Gaia, inscribed into the bark of a tree near our upstairs deck.

It’s been a while since I’ve had trees that felt like they were mine, or at least trees that were my friends. A tree can’t belong to a person, but a person can belong to a tree. Not everyone knows this, but it’s good information to have.

I’ve never been fond of Digger Pines. They’re sort of scary to me, and I don’t know why. A few weeks ago, The Digger Pine in my backyard told me “Don’t be scared of me. I’m just a tree. Nature made me this way. I can’t help being what I am.” I realized that even the things I’m not fond of are part of something, a part of the Great All This. Shit. Spiders. People who refuse to use their turn signals.

We don’t have to try to be part of something greater than ourselves… We already are.

Everything is interconnected up yin and back through the yang, and up and down the twisty branches of the Tree of Life. Nature is just where I happen to find the deepest and most meaningful connection. I agree with Frank Lloyd  Wright… I too “put a capital N on Nature and call it my church.” It could have been different, but in this lifetime it’s not. I wouldn’t change it. Whatever this is, we’ve hit the gooey caramel center.

So, I look at the trees, and think about nothing. I’m here now. They’re not going anywhere. Neither am I. There is work to do, but there is also time. Plenty of time.

Auntie Eris’ New Adventures In Tarotland

Auntie Eris’ New Adventures In Tarotland


the high priestess from the Phantomwise Tarot © 2004-2012 Erin Morgenstern

I’m going to do something absolutely crazy, fun, scary, and totally straight from the book of right-on…

I’m going semi-pro. I’m going to read at a psychic fair!

Now, it’s just a small local one and I know quite a few of the vendors. The venue is in the beautiful old town I still consider my home, even though I don’t physically live there anymore. While the town is magical and magickal to me, the venue itself is too. It’s the first place I ever really got truly memorably drunk. It was memorable for everyone else… I don’t remember a thing.

It’s a huuuuuge step for me, but I think it will be fun. The experience of it is enough for me. I’m not doing this to make money… I’m working for ridiculously cheap! I’ll probably make a little extra pocket money, which I’m sure I’ll spend with some of the vendors there. It’s also a chance to redeem myself. I still feel ashamed for leaving my design career behind, but I realize now there was no other way. Physically, that’s not how things can work with me. FUBARmyalgia and slutty-rib syndrome, yo! Respect! The job I have does work, and doing tarot work is actually preferable to squabbling over the details of a shitty t-shirt design with a client who believes they know good design better than you do. If I talk and move, I am in less pain. If I begin the design process, I have a good chance to obsess over details, go into OCD mode until everything is PERFECT IT MUST BE PERFECT, ignore my needs, crash and I am not productive in much of anything other than maybe eating junk food.

Design classes absorbed all of the energy that once went into tarot, and I now realize I have a chance to bring them both together in a small sort of way. I know how to pimp it, more or less. I haven’t done design work in a while, and I’m careful not to throw myself into a project too often. Preparing for the show is a chance to use that skill for myself for once. I want to have fun doing this without triggering the negative side of that. I need to keep it simple, yet flexible…

From my business cards to my table display, I have an idea. It’s important to me to be honest about what I’m about. It’s not fairies or unicorns. I’m a friendly ear with a powerful tool whose goal is to help. Still… I can’t help but want to make the display convey that too. I want it to be approachable, subtly mystical, yet bold. I’m selling me as a reader, but I’ve also got to draw you in. I’m confident that I can do that, or at least stand out.

Morgan’s Tarot is part of it, and I’m also looking for a Rider-Waite based deck in black and white to use as well. Yes, only I would choose a brand new (to me) deck to use for my first my first display of public psychic fuckery. The Hermetic deck is not quite what I want. The BOTA color-it-yourself deck is too blah.

I’m getting the Light & Shadow deck, and the Fan Tod pack!

I also discovered the out-of-print yet also not-quite-completely-in-print Phantomwise Tarot by Erin Morganstern. I’m delighted, and mesmerized. I want to slowly tip toe behind the fool, and watch how her journey unveils. I’m usually such a color whore, but not for this one. The black, white, and grey is so lovely. I’m in love! Please someone publish this deck! Before my psychic fair, preferably.

I need something… THIS!

Another delightful thing? Morganstern is also the author of The Night Circus, a book I’ve been wanting to read.

So, it’s a project. I’m taking my time, and doing it for the right reasons. I’m not going to have sleepless nights slaving over a hot photoshop with my fascia stinging like a wasps nest made of pins to make it happen. I will do the work, but simple. Gentle.

Softly through the void!

I Got 99 Problems and A Witch Ain’t One!

I Got 99 Problems and A Witch Ain’t One!


Shit just got real.

I’m no longer a student. I’ve officially skipped a grade or two and am officially deserving of the title the High Priestess in more ways than just the weed related way.

I’d say I mean that ironically, but who am I kidding? I’m as high as a mother-fuhhhhgheddtaboutit right now, son!

Great Universal Mother of All Fuckers… I’m official. Kali-Ma-MA-GAGA-OOH-LA-LA has left the building, paring me down to my core. Hades and Persephone coaxed me back into life with the comforting familiarity of the Underworld. How can I ever fear death when it is inevitable, and the possible outcomes aren’t that bad? What? Wait for another life? I improve with age, and I’d like to think I wise up a bit each go-round on the Great Wheel. I like the Underworld. You know when you go there. He is the Fire of Earth. It’s warm but dense. Being grounded by Hades has been good. I’m back in balance on all accounts. Not much action like Shiva, but when he’s particularly pleased I always smell garlic and cooking meat!

There is a light that never goes out. I’ve always known that, and They tried to tell me. I just lacked the maturity and the ability to listen. It’s amazing what having your own bullshit smack you in the face in front of the LIVING embodiment of your self-proclaimed PATRON GODDESS can do.

No matter where you look around, we all have bullshit going down.

Do what thou wilt, but don’t be a dick (unless absolutely necessary).

It’s really that simple for me. If I’m kind to others, I get it back. There are so many good things that I don’t even know where to begin! I’m excited to write again and excited for what comes next.

Too late to turn back now, but I like where I’m headed. The strange coincidences are sacred occurrences. I live in a world both magic(k)al and real in ways that sometimes break my heart. I’ve always lived this way. I just never realized that it was always my religion, it just had no name.

I pull a tarot card at the beginning of each year. This year, I pulled the Hermit. I knew it was Hekate without question.

This should be a very interesting year.

I’m re-witched, reborn, and ready.

When Hekate is rockin’, you witches best be knockin’. Rock and roll.