To Love a Witch

I sat on a yellow chair at the dining table, inching ever closer to the window so the bright sunlight could  set my leg to warm tingling for as long as possible as it arched overhead, sipping on my tea that said this.

I was grounding in after a morning of multidimensional work - taking the energetic temperature of what the planet was asking me to broadcast out for this month's Full Moon intentions, doing some manifestation work for friends, and just having finished an Intuitive Healing Reading.

A book sat open before me on the table, my eyes dancing over the pages, nibbling on the easy prose. I love to do heavy duty research and immerse myself in ancient esoteric scripture as well as modern scientific academia, but every now and then, you need a good novel to just be human and enjoy that experience as much as the weightier stuff.

The book I was reading today was all about a natural born "witch" who, among other things, fell in love with someone she met in her ancestral land of Ireland.

The line that this man said about her being a magical person stopped me in my tracks and had me open my computer, log in, and type up this blog entry. What I read was as follows:

"Because it's there. It is. And I'd like to know one single bloody man," he continued with some heat, "who wouldn't give it some considerable thought."

I sat still for a moment, my eyes'  dancing pace down the page stopped cold. I'm a fast reader, and for me, books are more delicious snacks or yummy meals than long undertakings.
But I was stumped. I felt the truth of what he said resonate in my being. And I remembered how often I'd felt this energy come from people who could love me, who perhaps did love me, but who feared me more, because of something I was born with.

Love can't survive a fear like that. Especially not budding, new love. Even when one has been "warned" about the unexplainable nature of happenings around people like us, it is different when sh*t gets weird with you standing there.

And why, I must add, is natural magic anything to be WARNED about in the first place?

Part of being human is being magical, intuitive, empathic, and conscious of energetic lines running through the world around us.

Mothers can hear the slightest sounds their babies make down the hall. A "mother's hearing" is more often intuition than auditory sensitivity.
I'm sure you reading this, no matter whether or not you think of yourself as magical or intuitive, have thought of a long lost friend before only to have her or him call you in the near future.

When people we love hurt, we feel it. When people we love triumph, we feel that too, often before the phone rings.

But when there are people who have a stronger attunement to such things innately, does our culture treat them like natural mathematicians or musical prodigies?

When a child can call up the winds, talk to animals, or even do something more intense like make an object glow or float (yes, I have seen it), what is the response?

Sadly, it is all too often
Fear.

"Don't bring trouble."
"Don't show anyone you can do it."
"That is demonism."
"It can be dangerous."

Well, so can driving a car or wielding a knife for dinner, but the keys and knives aren't all locked in a vault deep in our subconscious minds.

We learn to use those more mundane parts of existence that can be seen as dangerous, not hide and starve them.

Back to the point of this blog entry -
So many times over my life I've had to have the "I'm not like other girls" chat with potential suitors.

Sometimes this freaked them out right in the beginning and that was that.

Sometimes they laughed it off until they saw something odd happen, and then they vanished.

Every now and then someone would act interested and even fall in love with me seemingly because of the refreshing quality of my magic, only to eventually get overwhelmed and see me as something frightening.

I'll never forget the phone call with a college boyfriend who told his roommates about that conversation we'd just had and later said to me,
"They said I'd better be careful not to make you mad, because you're a witch."
We both laughed.
"….you're not a witch, are you?"

What could I say? Clearly when he said the word "witch," this image is what he was picturing.

In my world, being what I am (which I don't ordinarily call "witch," but which does fit the description if the true one is used, not the fear-mongering one left over from mass hysteria driven by patriarchal mob mentality afraid of the power of the female) this is what I see when I think about how to describe the gifts I was born with and have never been able to ignore with much success.

Luckily for all of us, we are coming into a new paradigm of belief where the less scientifically explainable side of life is no longer cause to board up your windows for fear of rocks or stay inside at night for fear of pitchforks or burning effigies.

Nowadays, people are understanding that magic is something that we ALL have. And whether or not we choose to use it can be a similar decision as whether or not we choose to learn to play the piano - pianists are not better than those who can't read music or plunk out tunes.

It is just a different specialization.

When I think about what it must be like for someone who has never thought about magic being actually, literally real to come into a conversation with someone like me who not only believes it, but uses its principles daily to make the world a more amazing place in whatever ways I possibly can, from energy healing to imbuing spaces with sacred symbols for activation and harmonic alignment, I get that it can be scary or daunting.

Everything new is a challenge.
Will we accept that which is different?
Will we be tyrants all over again?

And for those of us who are consciously evolving in this way, will we, in turn, be the tyrants, judging those who do not choose to focus on this specialization as something "lesser?"
Yes, that happens, and no, it isn't okay.

It takes all types to live and love on our beautiful planet.

We are here for the rainbows, after all.

A Walk to the Park

On my second day in Redondo Beach, I decided to go for a walk to a nearby park and the botanical gardens therein.
I LOVE botanical gardens. They make me happy. And now that I'm in the city, I'm realizing how deeply I'd connected to the complex and very wild nature back in the Blue Ridge mountains. I kind of miss it - but I'm learning so much about how to be Awake in the city that I don't really mind. Besides, I have experiences like this one to keep me nice and grounded.

Early in the morning, after my workout and before my smoothie, I was meditating. My meditation starts with a balancing of all my chakras, followed by a clearing and smoothing of my energy field and a few moments dedicated to whatever I'm trying to bring forth in my life. After that, I talk to all my buddies in the different realms. To be specific, first I go check in with a large overarching group where lots of my guides come to speak to me at once - that said, they're mostly ETs at that point. Then I chat with my main ET guide (who I call my Rhythm Teacher - it's a long story,) and then with the Angelic realm representatives who hang out with me. After that I talk to some devic spirits (a.k.a. fairies) and finally, with Gaia overall - lately, by the way, she's been saying that she's nearly all good - that we just have to come where she is in our resonant state to see it.

But anyway, the devas had been large and in charge in the mountains, which was what made me aware of them in the first place. I hadn't believed in fairies since I was a little girl, and even then I didn't claim to consciously believe in them (rather choosing to draw pictures of them all the time and even build little things for them outdoors, thinking I was "just playing"...) but when something is floating in front of your face, literally and figuratively, it's really hard to not believe it. That, in fact, is insanity. I'm not typing on a computer right now. No way. Imaginary.

See?

Moving on.

So on that morning, the fairies told me that they'd be with me as I went out and about that day. Then they told me to "look for the flowers."

Ok, that seemed like an easy task.

I left my sister's apartment and began to walk up a nearby street. Driving down it many times, I'd never noticed how many flowers there were! Every other tiny yard was beautifully manicured, with flowers spilling over fences and peeking up from tiny, intricate, lacy layers of ground cover.

Before I was a block in, I noticed some beautiful blue flowers hanging over the sidewalk. One bunch of them had been somehow severed from its partners and was there delicately sitting on the sidewalk.

Yes!
One of the main (and very random) things that I couldn't help from doing this past year was wearing fresh foliage in my hair. Since much of my time spent back East was during the cold season, I pretty much constantly wore dark green Juniper leaves either braided into my hair or tucked into a ponytail. Somehow this grounded me and made me feel more connected. I think adding that harmonic life force to the part of us most often disconnected - our heads - does more than just add cosmetic value.  And wearing artificial stuff obviously just isn't the same...

I'd thought about doing the same out here, but I don't like cutting flowers. It's not like there's a tree with a zillion leaves who drops fresh ones every morning and I can go outside when the grass is still wet with dew and gather a handful to choose from, or like my nonexistent yard is filled with wild flowers, some of which volunteer to be picked and worn as I bend over each bunch, asking with my Heart who wants to come and hang out with me.

In the city, it's different.

Except when a beautiful cut flower (that matches your outfit, no less) just shows up where you're walking.

So I did what anyone would do, I put a sprig in my hair and carried the rest of the bunch until I found a pretty place to leave it, coating the flowery branch with my intentions that it brighten someone else's day the way it had brightened mine.

The walk continued, and about a block later, there was an empty and clean plastic grocery bag on the sidewalk in front of me.

Whew, that was close...

I've often read advice by other interdimensional ambassador types that say to always bring a plastic bag with you when you take a walk in order to gather litter as you go. It always sounds like a good idea, and I always forget. So this day, I was gifted with one. With only a moment's hesitation due to my self consciousness about how odd I must look bending down to pick up trash off the sidewalk, I gathered up that bag and went on.

Of course there were lots of little things to pick up along the way. Because I was still in morning traffic hours, there were a good amount of cars cruising by and every time I bent to pick up a wrapper or random piece of something man made and trashy, I felt a little weird. It's funny how social norms often curb us from doing what is right. And the likelihood is that no one would have even noticed me at all, much less looked at me askance for collecting litter.

The main part of this walk, however, was the beautiful city. I was in the suburbs, and there's lots of really adorable and creative architecture around here. More than anything though, I noticed how many plants and trees and flowers there are. I was as guilty of the next of thinking of suburbia, and especially SoCal suburbia, of being a concrete and asphalt wasteland where nothing grew and certainly where no fairies could survive.
Not so, as it turns out!

Fabulous.

And besides, I got to pass some really interesting things, like a couple of Dr. Seussy trees. Here's the first one which reminds me of the Lorax...

And a beautiful magnolia pruned to where it's not the normal thick, green, glossy magnolia of the South that I'm used to, but beautiful all the same.

A palm tree against the sky just clearing itself of the June gloom marine layer for the first time that day...

Eventually, I made it over to the park (taking a massive detour and getting a bit lost, but not minding a bit) and hung out with the trees.

A beautiful pine,

And then I meditated under this second Dr. Seussy tree.

There were some very zenned out (and slightly overweight) seagulls hanging out on the shores of the park's man made lake. I snapped a pic of this one. He wasn't sure whether or not he would fly off, so I crooned to him as I took shot after shot, finally ending up with this one of him looking at my camera. Seagulls are so unique and funny among birds - they have an interesting type of intelligence that we normally miss because we don't hang out with them much, I think.

All in all, it was a fabulous day. And now I have some lovely blue flowers to press in my journal to prove it.

Have a beautiful weekend!