Friday, September 25, 2015

Witches & Magick- How the Bathroom Became a Magickal Place

This is a sort of Part 2 to yesterday's post about how I became a practicing Witch. I'll ramble a bit. The more I try to define my current practice, the more evidence I see of Crow- walking wherever, bobbing his head, stealing/borrowing bits of this and that, and no real logic to any of it as he does what he wants to do.

Being a single woman and a Witch is fairly easy. There's no one to question what I'm doing or why I collect certain items or why things are the way they are. Candles can burn nearly round the clock. Bottles aren't opened. No one reads your private journal.

Being a mother and a Witch is an entirely different matter. A frustrating matter. Actually, it's more a matter of what-the-fuck-is-a-matter-with-this-family situation.

I have four step-sons. The oldest two are grown. This does not mean that they need less. It merely means they are bigger than the youngest two. The youngest two have lots of problems. I've spent most of the time I've known them trying to set boundaries and rules and well, I've pretty much been a mother to them since we've met because they were in dire need of one. And they didn't just need a mom, they needed both parents. Yes, my husband was there, but in a limited way because during the first part of their lives he was working out of town. This means when he came come on weekends he didn't really want to be the 'mean' parent who enforced the rules. He really wanted to spoil his children. He wanted to make up for the five days when he was away. My biggest problem in the beginning was convincing my husband that the boys weren't babies anymore and it was okay to let them grow up and even better, it was okay to encourage them to do for themselves.

Once I moved in, the boys were finally able to dress themselves and tie their shoes (they were in first grade at the time). Then they were able to put toys away and put dirty clothes in laundry baskets. Next they started washing dishes. Then they learned to cook. Now we're trying to learn to think but as the older boys (20 & 19) haven't mastered thinking I'm pretty sure I'm fighting a losing battle. But I keep going because what else can I do?

The biggest problem I had with the boys was that they love to mess with things. I cannot tell you how many times they've turned off my alarm clock or reset the time. I didn't get any calls about my father being in the hospital because they played with my phone and turned the volume off. They played with the sewing machine, put the bobbin in upside down, and I was completely baffled as to why the machine wasn't sewing properly. I'm afraid to have live flame candles in this house so I hid all the lighters. We've had issues with the boys stealing, breaking things, and all sorts of things just 'disappearing'. This has been everything from money to car parts to bills to earrings. NOTHING can be left unattended.

The only thing I could really do was not allow the boys in some parts of the house. Our bedroom is strictly off limits unless a parent is present to supervise. This does not mean that items in the bedroom are safe. It means there has been a decrease in what disappears.

My mother-in-law says when the boys were crawling babies and they started to explore, she would watch them carefully when they were at her house. If one reached for something they shouldn't, she'd tell them no. If they kept reaching for it, she'd say 'no' louder. If they still went for it, she'd smack their hands and take the item away. The boys' mother thought this was a cruel thing to do and she was aghast that my mother-in-law smacked the baby's hand. I don't think the boys' biological mother was so much horrified by the smacking as she just didn't want to watch them. My mother-in-law stopped sewing when the boys were small because she got tired of the tension on her sewing machine being constantly adjusted. And then there were all the pins she kept finding on the floor. And she kept catching one child or the other with her sharp sewing scissors...

In this house, I can't leave a ritual circle set up for any length of time. The altar moved up to the top most part of the kitchen, as did the storage area for spell components. I need a step ladder to access either. This means I don't do much magick on weekends or in the evenings. My magickal time is between 7am and 3pm when the boys are in school. There aren't any workings for sunrise or sunset or midnight.

I go through the bedroom to get to the master bathroom. And inside the master bath is the master closet. You know, that's three- bedroom, bathroom, closet.

The closet is the secret ritual room. It's a big walk-in closet. I store my Tarot cards in my suitcase. I store the ritual cloth I use for meditating with my scarves. Before a working, I usually spend some time in the bathroom where I take a ritual bath, or at least wash my hands with lavender scented soap. When I use the breast pump, I sit in the bathroom because that's the only private place I have. I take my journal with me so I can reflect and consider various matters and usually I work out upcoming spells. It's much easier to cast a spell when I've already figured out what I'm going to do.

This means that my magick has become very, very simple. I'm mostly concerned with intent, placement, or the melding of magick with mundane. I don't carry spell pouches anymore, I enchant the spices I cook with. My family consumes the spell, I know they are affected almost immediately, and there is nothing left over to dispose of. It's a very efficient system.

Tomorrow- stitch witchery. Then I'll get into types of Witches, starting with Hedge Witches.

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