rich

Yesterday evening I came home from my son’s basketball game to find one of my goddess daughters (I’m rich in goddess daughters!) and her friend up in my ritual room. The ritual room is up in the attic, adjacent to my art studio. It was in the stepping into these rooms some 12 years ago that I knew I had to buy this house. Many psychically attuned cohorts have felt the ritual room to be a magical portal, and I’ve gotten accustomed to my role as some kind of psychic bouncer, having learned the hard way that the room needs to be cleaned and cleared out on a regular basis. Spirits seem to like to party down in the room, and left unchecked, the energy can be quite rave like. Plenty of initiations, both Reclaiming and Feri, have been done in this room, and the last four have been a blend of both, which the spirits seem to be particularly amenable to. If not amenable, they speak up, most notably with fire. This room has taught me a lot about asking permission, and listening to seemingly inanimate objects.

My goddess daughter had come by because both she and her friend had dreamt of the room, and wanted to spend time in it. They’ve decided they want to learn more about witchcraft. They were both here solstice night, and ended up talking late into the night up in the ritual room with the other teenagers. Years ago, my goddess daughter spent an afternoon up in the attic with my coven Triskets doing tarot readings. At six, she was an astute reader. Up until about 12 or so, she was very interested in magic and my gifts to her included things like tarot cards, essential oils for spell work, and every book about fairies suitable for kids. Her mother is one of my oldest friends, and while not a witch, has always encouraged me to mentor her daughter magically. These last few years my goddess daughter has been immersed in hip hop and slam poetry. Her mother and I have wondered if her interest in magic was a phase of childhood, but have also noted that her poetry is magic in itself, potent and powerful.

Last night, stirring the risotto I was making for dinner, I smiled to myself as my goddess daughter and her friend sat at my kitchen table, asking me if they could keep coming over and talking to me about magic. One of the things I’ve been recently mulling about is recognizing and taking stock of the fact that I’m part of the first generation of this culture to break away from monotheism, the first generation of this new religion of Wicca, and how strange and incredible that is. Much of what’s happened has been purely experimental and totally new territory. No wonder so many mistakes have been made! As I stirred the risotto, I felt a deep wonder at being at the start of a possibly long lineage. It’s not about being Feri, or being in Reclaiming. I’m a witch who is passing on to my goddess daughter what I know of magic, cautionary tales and all. Someday she may pass it on too. Friday night, after a poetry reading, she's coming over and wants to hang out in the attic, and talk to me more about magic. Am I blessed, or what?