Identity Crisis

We miss so much when we go through life needing the approval of others. We grow up learning to please our parents, our teachers, our friends. We learn that pleasing others gives us feedback that gives us pleasure so it becomes circular. The lines blur and we find that we have morphed into those we associate with. Soon we lose our individual identity and then feel the need to ‘discover’ ourselves. Many times the person we find is very different and that person doesn’t really have anything in common with those we had spent so much time with and previously considered to be ‘like us’. In reality we sacrificed our true selves on the alter of conformity.


Walking Their Walk

If you wanna look like you live like that…you’ve gotta live like that. No one gets buff sitting on their duff.

Groaning Pains

I prefer to think of myself as complex, or even complicated. Wearing either label sounds so much more glamorous in a bohemian kind of way than to say that I’m ‘difficult’. A Witch like me will sashay on the cat walk of life with it emblazoned on my chest, doing it all with unforgettable style.

The various complexities that complicate things can cause my logic to be mine and mine alone to the point that no one else can ever see things from my vantage point. Apparently, it seems to be so far out in orbit that the Hubble telescope can’t even find it much less home in on it. That being said, when I do what I feel is ‘sharing’ things, it has come to affectionately get referred to as my ‘rants’ by those that I ‘share’ with. Complex women tend to feel better when they are able to verbalize the things in their minds that others might consider to be space debris. Even if it is, it can’t just circumnavigate the universe without crashing and burning at some point in time so talking about it allows for a softer landing. My husband of almost 28 years is my ‘go to’ person when I need to be ‘grounded’. He puts things in perspective for me and most often keeps me from having to gnaw on my Vera Wang platform pumps when my version of things may prompt me to say what I’ll have to apologize for after the fact.

If you have seen the show, “American Horror Story: Coven” and Jessica Lange’s portrayal of “The Supreme” Witch, you might recognize me. That is why I consider myself so fortunate that there are people in my life who, have come to not only expect me to fly off the broom handle from time to time, they might even love me for it. After all, I keep our Coven interesting and when a Coven lasts as long as MoonShadow has…you need interesting.

Covens are families in every sense of the word and unless your blood is the consistency of water, you stand by each other through good times and the smattering of bad. Some members have known me since it all began in my living room in the early 90’s, but some are more recent. They don’t have the advantage of the certainty that, “she’ll get over it”, the way the founding Witches do. When my logic spins that yarn and knits it into a nasty, scratchy sweater, the urge to tear it off and throw it out has got to be irresistible, but they find it within themselves to just smooth it out and wear it anyway.

The odd, but beautiful thing is, that over time it softens and has the ability to become a favorite. It’s familiar, the color is complementary and it gets comfortable. It shows some signs of wear, but the repairs are done so well that no one can see them anymore and no one remembers how the snags got there or cares. The strands that bind us have been pulled tighter and they glow with a well worn shiny patina.

This Coven, this family, is a vital part of my life. If we just bobbed along the surface of nice, we would never know how to go deep and weather the storms. We’ve been tested many times. Relationships that forced us to learn to be more accepting, personal issues that taught us how to be committed to those not related by blood, things that made not helping someone something we never even considered. Then, there is my predictable propensity to misunderstand the perfectly understandable.

All in all, being part of a Coven makes a person grow in ways that other more mainstream groups don’t and can’t. Being on the fringes of what is considered tolerable, yet unacceptable, puts us on thorny common ground. When Witches are not being abhorred as evil we are being dismissed as flakes who personify roles that run the gamut from ridiculous buffoons to demonic. When the bright light of reality is cast our way, it usually categorizes us as tree hugging hippies who aren’t even organized enough to host a sit in. So, being social outcasts tends to help us form an instant bond, but when that bond is allowed to test its limits the real Magick happens.

I am so grateful that I have found my place among people who are capable of loving me since, as I have indicated, is no easy task. But, as I know so very well, the thing that may set a person apart by displaying traits that are diverse in the most unusual way, is the same thing that allows them to sense things that defy the normal senses. Given the choice, ‘weird’ wins every time.

Never surprised, but always amazed is the state that I find myself in most of the time. You’d think that by now the exclamation of, “OH WOW!!!” would not escape my lips as much as it does. The age and the experience thing has taught me that I’ll never be so old that I don’t want to experience even more. Growing beyond myself is something that I am constantly stretching to do. Thunderin’ tap dancin’ Christ, I love life!!! Even when it hurts.

Catalyst Converter

There comes a time when change is not only desirable, but necessary. Habitual patterns that lead no where or remain the obstacle that prevents us from achieving a goal can damage the ego to the point at which our self-esteem takes a major dive. Falling into that abyss can feel like something there is no climbing out of. But, what choice do we have really? There’s no place else to go but to seek the road that leads to recovery unless we’d rather hunker down and stay there the rest of our lives.

The use of Magick is one of those things that a Witch often uses for others, but hesitates to work with on their own behalf. I am not one of those. I wave my wand, twitch my nose, point my finger and stir my cauldron a lot. I see no reason to be the cobbler’s kid who has no shoes when I can conjure up the perfect pair.  Being a martyr never suited me and I find it to be a dismal trait in others. There is nothing self-less about denying ourselves and then talking about how much we do it. In fact, stroking the ego with a huge paw like that in the pretense of not having one to stroke is downright maniacal.

Saving something for special occasions often leads to regrets. Besides, what exactly puts an occasion in that category? I recall when my grandmother on my father’s side crossed over and  my mother was faced with going through her things. She had come to live with us several years prior to her passing and although I was a teenager,  it was fun to go shopping for her. The main item on the list was always a new sweater. After her death, there they were…at least six brand new sweaters with the tags still attached  in her dresser drawer. Meanwhile, the one she wore was always full of holes.

Magick should never be the unworn sweater. The crystal stemware that’s always an heirloom, but has never graced a table. The silver, too tarnished and cold to reflect the celebrations it could have been a part of. Magick is love in action. Directing it toward us is the most beautiful and glorious way to honor ourselves.

So, where is your Toad? Does it need to be driven from your garden or transformed with a Magickal kiss? What change can you bring about with the perfect spell? Would empowerment to make a change be the answer to what has hexed and vexed you for far too long? Set your alter, cast your circle and raise that cone of power and send it forth upon the winds of change. Do it for yourself. It’s the best way to do it for those who love you.


Blindsided By The Light

Perhaps I am just naïve or maybe expecting more from those who claim to promote Spirituality is expecting too much. When I sent an email to a local metaphysical store with a link to the radio show that I co-host, I did so with the best intentions. Our guest on the show that I mentioned is a well known author and Pagan advocate who stated during the interview that she likes to do book signings at the smaller metaphysical stores to show support for locally owned businesses.  The last thing that I expected was a curt, rude response.

I don’t go out of my way to provoke people into being rude to me so when I receive this kind of treatment I am a bit shocked, but also hurt. Every day I strive to be a better person, to be less judgmental and to live a more conscientious  life. It is for this reason that the Spiritual path that I follow called to me in the first place and the primary reason that I responded affirmatively. It seemed to be a perfect connection. My desire to live from my higher-self manifested by leading me to the Craft. That was over 20 years ago and as that connection deepens and becomes more steeped in what I value, the more I find that I love my life.

However, when those that I viewed as ‘kindred spirits’ and ‘of like mind’ treat me in a manner that is far removed from the proclamation of  acceptance and love and light that they frequently make, I have to wonder if we really are on the same vibrational frequency. When a person is  part of a group that is definitely considered to be a minority, the need to ‘network’ is very desperate.  Feelings of isolation are part of the deep sense of loneliness that I warn all of my students about. For some, it becomes too overwhelming and they find that they just aren’t meant for this solitary path. Even when we are part of a group that practices regularly, we are still represented by the miniscule slice on the mainstream pie chart .

I had no idea that reaching out to extend a hand in kinship and camaraderie would result in having it swatted away. This author would have welcomed a visit to their store to do a book signing and a talk as opposed to rejecting it because it was not one of the large chains and not worth her time. You don’t find that very often, so I wanted to make them aware of this as well as the release of her latest book. The link to our blog talk radio show would have allowed them to listen to the interview to get an understanding of her work. During the interview, the author also lists her contact information which would have saved them the hassle of having to look for it.

When I ran a retail business, the last thing I wanted to do was drive away potential customers, much less  someone who had been a patron for years. However, I’m not sure that I can bring myself to support them any more. Not only is it the fact that I don’t want to contribute monetarily, I simply don’t know if I can accept the other bill of goods that they sell.  The aspect of being ‘Spiritual’. Crystals, candles, incense and New Age books promoting the life style and philosophy of all that is kind and loving abound. The word ‘Namaste’ trips off smiling lips. Are these mere ‘trappings’ of the image or is it real?

That question will hang heavily on my mind and make me a bit hesitant to leave my solitary, comfortable den in search of that ray of pure white light that claims to shine in kinship. The klieg light may be bright as it sweeps the black eerie sky, but you can’t hope to walk on it and follow it up to the divine source it claims to originate from. If you do, you’ll find it was just an illusion…and you will fall.


What’s In Your Box?

We self-label and then become what’s in the box. But, we have the power to change the ingredients, put on a different label and become “new and improved”.