#13dayofmagic – the one with the story to it, about Yemaya

For those of you curious, #13daysofmagic (goes to Facebook hashtag, for the ah, allergic to Twitter) is actually an endeavor led by Devin Hunter over at Modern Witch.

Since usually during a move my spirituality goes by the wayside first, I saw this as a great opportunity to kick my own practice into gear.  Most of it is routine, but I try to abide by two “be silent/discernment” rules:

  1. 1)no talking about routine protection magic – treat lit like handing out passwords and
  2. 2)no talking about other spells until 24 hours after completion of execution ((final completion is a complicated matter.))

I also have a 3rd personal rule, part of my complex morality:

3)don’t lie to children. Lie to your parents if they’re bad ones, lie to your friends if they aren’t close enough to deserve the truth, but don’t fucking lie to children.

Today I violated (or am about to violate) one and two – and partially 3.

Today, I did this:

lemon magic

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Until now all I’ve done are mostly routine spells that are part of moving in anywhere, or just plain routine spellwork. Some of the workings I will storify later are just as important as reloading the dishwasher and doing the laundry.

What you see above is a trifle less routine: it’s a combination protection, banishing, self-reclaiming spell. I’ve had a lot of crap either sent my way by immediate family, or projected onto me, ((the best manipulators are the ones that manipulate with mostly the truth)) or sent my way for various petty, human reasons that I never got help in mastering at the time those petty things happened.

On the surface, it’s a lemon with pins in it. I had about eight – a few of which I also wrapped in construction paper spider webs. (I may do independent shots of those tomorrow. They’re fun to make, and work great as nightmare/spirit traps.) On a deeper level, it’s bleeding out every piece of cruelty sent into my body and spirit. This Samhain is going to be an act of completion for the rebirth I did last year and this is one step within it. ((For those concerned I hurt the ocean, it’s possible but hopefully very, very minimal. I did make sure that it was nontoxic paints and metal pushpins rather than plastic-head sewing pins.))
Now, for years when I’ve had some astral nasty banging around, I’ve wrapped it up and sent it to Yemaya to be reborn. Why her? I asked who would like them – she answered. I’ve never invoked, out of some cultural assimilation hang-ups. If they come to me, I try to listen, but I don’t have anything to gain trying to co-opt anything.

Today, as I gazed into the Pacific, determined to part with all the pain of the past decades, I invoked Yemaya…and I heard her answer. ((I also realized that while the energy of this spot on the Pacific Ocean is by no means that of Faery, it has the same degree of power, it just doesn’t have a gravitational pull on me the way Faery does. I realized as I felt the pull of the ocean that much like fae, the way to get this magic to work is to put myself in a position where I just might get killed. KIDS DON’T DO THIS AT HOME, OR ANYWHERE ELSE, PERIOD. For me it’s a trust game that so far has panned out – and entities only ever ask me to do it once. Minnehaha Falls did it to me with the infamous “dual working partner” trick. Kauai did it to me, leveraging Mike’s horny honeymoon IQ drop. It’s just how forces of nature introduce themselves to me, with gentle reminders that they could kill me anytime, but don’t. This is often accompanied with visions or even ghosts of people that they have killed, in case I don’t get the message on the first go.)) I then went about the simplistic magic of trying to bury the lemons in the sand where the rolling out tide would take them. Lemons were grabbed, but not easily.

As I did this, a girl about ten years old came upon me. “What are those?”
“Lemons.”
“Can I see?”
“No.” I tried to make her go away. I told her it was a spiritual thing. I lied like a dog to adults about what exactly the spiritual thing was to some adults that inquired. I shooed her. She persisted.
Finally, I gave in. She tossed one lemon and the waves damn near ate it out of her hand.

She kept asking to see all the lemons. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I just want to see them!”

I gave her a look. I wouldn’t let her handle the webbed lemons – that’s new magic, and any kickback belongs on me, not on the unknown child.

Just after we threw the last lemon, (she kept asking if there were any more) an older woman came by to ask if we knew the man swimming. We were standing in the area that has the most ocean drownings in the Bay.

The girl told me the man was her uncle, and that he’s a good swimmer. I sent her over to call him out since the waves had suddenly taken on a wild new life – it didn’t scare me the way Lake Michigan used to scare me, but I got the sense to never, ever turn my back on those waves.

I walked over and introduced myself to the man, after his niece pointed at me and shrieked “She’s a witch!”

I explained up front that a)I had not incited his niece’s participation b)I don’t do the possession type stuff so there’s no worry there and c)that a strange old woman was worried about his safety. He was quite gracious and seemed to appreciate my direct approach.

I then meditated for a few minutes. As I walked out, a couple of old friends ran to each other and hugged. Another older woman walking nearby saw this reunion and smiled, and smiled at me smiling at them as well.
I chatted with her briefly as I emptied my shoes of sand before walking home. She had come over from Ireland to care for her sick sister. She likes it here – less rain.

As I walked home in the peaced-out silence that follows a good ritual, I heard something that translated to Nice to meet you. Of course I came to you as a child.

Since my patron Eros likes to manifest to me as an old man that critiques my fashion choices… why not? I have a friend who went out to meet the gods, and I hope he does. I swear that while he does that, they go out of their way to meet me – probably just because I’m always good for a chat.

You can get a sense of what others are doing here: