I haven’t done any real magic in such a long time.
The last spell I did was enchanting a necklace to bring me luck; it, thus far, seems to not be working out. It was also my first enchanted piece of jewelry. Developing skills takes time, and that’s fine. That’s not why I’m writing this.
Last week, I felt my soul stir again, as it hasn’t in such a long time. I felt something, and I knew that this? This was the time that I had been waiting for, finally able to feel my gods again, finally able to feel my own power again.
I do my best work in energy–I have a knack for manipulating my own, and perhaps other energies should I branch out. In fact, my most effective method of magic, down and dirty sigil-making and charging, produces the most drastic results.
I have a problem, though. I love ceremonial magic.
Or at least magic where there’s a ceremony. And despite my great results with sigils and energy work, my ceremonial magic skills remain…lackluster. Granted, I don’t get a lot of practice; I can’t, living under my parents’ roof where the only time I can perform any type of ceremonial stuff is at night, and very quietly. So I use what I think will be my best chance at achieving results: I ask the gods for assistance.
Those results are still lackluster, despite the occasional or temporary success. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be doing this kind of magic? Or maybe, I thought, maybe it was the way I was going about it. And then I had a thought that really made me afraid: what if I challenged myself to a ritual spell without once calling on the gods for help?
I’ve been having trouble with money lately, so that was a fairly easy choice. I’d been itching to use my catnip. (I even dressed a candle and covered it in herbs for the first time. Neat!) I had a yellow candle, which could stand in for gold. And I would be relatively undisturbed for several hours on Saturday. And as I was walking the dog, a thought wouldn’t leave my head: May my own words and my own power sway the wind of fate to my favor. It didn’t rhyme, but the idea of the Wind of Fate resonated with me the whole walk.
And so I did it how I usually do it: With precious little planning, using the words that came out of my mouth without rehearsal, and feeling the energy work through me to that yellow candle covered in oil and catnip. Once I was sure the smoke from the incense and ash leaf was gone, I felt…good. In touch with my own power, finally, again. I watched the candle burn down and now I think I can get used to this again.