Last year was a whirlwind escalation of my magical practice. There were also a handful of stumbling blocks. Some of it makes for good stories. Some of it does not. Ultimately, I collapsed about mid-October. That, combined with a second covid infection at the beginning of November and the worst Christmas depression that I can immediately recall, and a few sticks in the spokes of my mundane life, culminated in the longest magically fallow period I’ve experienced in some years.
I have, except for my trip to New Orleans, maintained my streak of daily offerings. I have not, however, managed to maintain my tarot practice, my journalling, my work with the Black Book, or the rituals I had picked up from Six Ways. I’ve done a bit of money-magic, trying to get the gods on my side against this shit economy; the utilities haven’t been shut off, so I’m counting those as successful … but only barely. What divination I have done has all come out nonsense. Where, last summer, the gods and my familiar spirits were present to the point of overwhelming, now I can barely sense them at all.
It would be overly dramatic to say that I’m bottoming out. It would also be untrue: I have definitely fallen farther, before. I have had more and crueler hands raised against me. But in this moment, I can’t think of better words to describe the feeling.
This is, of course, by no means the first time my magical practice has fallen off the rails. I have been here, and done this. I know what I need to do.
I need to take a real rest. Dial back my magical ambitions. Dial back my daily ritual to the barest of bones; I may or may not need to let it lapse, completely.
I need to cleanse and purify. Spiritual baths. Banishing rituals. Rites to avert the evil eye. Fumigate the house. Fumigate the yard. Re-assert my claim to the property. Take steps to reinvigorate my protective wards and spirits.
After that, come some choices.
Usually, when I come to a point like this, I find it helpful to do some kind of back-to-basics program. My current three-and-a-half-year streak of daily ritual began with just such a move: thirty days of sigils with concrete goals that metamorphed into work with my familiar spirits and grew into a much larger and more complicated daily practice. If I am to go back to basics, again – and I think that I am, in some sense or another – what is that going to look like, this time?
Beyond that, I have a number of magical projects that I got somewhere north of knee-deep into before hitting a wall. I have, in fact, more than I can reasonably continue with at the same time.
My work with the Hekataeon stalled out again while I was gathering materials for the next series of rites. While I have the goddess’ permission to continue, it seems that it may not be what I really want. Do I continue? If so, how? If not, what then?
My work with my idiosyncratic pantheon produced a handful of rites that I am collectively calling the Satyr’s Grammar. I have shared several of those here. It has been made clear to me that I should perform some (or all) of the rites I have already recieved before I can expect to be shown more.
I have half the parts needed to assemble an altar to the nine muses that I saw in a vision. When and where and how will I complete that work?
I have made astrological images a cornerstone of my magical jewelry business, but I feel like I have reached a point of diminishing returns when it comes to incorporating astrological images and timing into my own magical practice. If I am to continue my experiments in astrological magic, what is the best way to make that work both for me and my customers?
I don’t currently have the answers to any of these questions. As I write this, I am making frantic last-minute preparations for Paganicon, including final edits on the KC Sorcerous Arts Collective’s ritual. By the time this post goes live on the Obsidian Dream Blog, we will be winding down the convention and preparing to return home. Only after that, will I have real time to sort out my own shit.
The magical life is not a choice I made, any more than i chose to be a writer. It’s who I am as a person. The choices I have to make are “how” and “when” and “where” and “why”.
Two things I know for certain: I will continue to do magic, and I will continue to write about it.
I hope you all continue to come along for the ride.