Easing into the New Year

I’ve been trying something new this year. Instead of trying to be more productive or radically change [fill in the blank], I’m focusing more on FLOW and JOY. I wake up every morning and give myself a few minutes to transition from the world of dreams to the world of yoga stretches and the ritual of dressing for the day ahead. Cat cuddles are involved in the process. So is marinating on the night’s previous dreams as I snuggle in warm blankets. In a few minutes, I’m lured out of bed by the promise of coffee and whatever excites me for the day—time to write, family visits, a new lesson plan, a seed catalog to pour over, or just another morning full of possibility. 

It has taken me time to find my flow again in a post-pandemic world. It is time to feel excited to greet the day and time to get inspired for new adventures and experiences, even if they are just sacred simple pleasures, which are what I’ve been gravitating to more over Big Excitements.

“It is no small thing,” as Tolkien reminds us, “to celebrate a simple life.”

This feels especially true this year as we are grappling with so much politically and socially. It’s easy to get lost in the doom and gloom of the moment, but that doesn’t really do much to help things. Instead, I find hope in the people I collaborate with who make our communities more equitable. I find joy in seeing these same communities thrive despite the issues that might thwart our progress. And I find immense satisfaction in helping people forge connections in this world that so often seems divisive, fraught, and isolationist. That’s just all in a day’s work—and an integral part of magical living. 

Still, I wouldn’t be able to do all that without first filling my own cup. I’m reminded of the Star in the tarot. She is one of the radical self-care cards of the tarot deck. She asks you to nourish yourself first before giving out to others—and to be careful how much you give. I bask in this wisdom as I recover from pandemic-related burnout and the difficulties of working in higher ed, where over-work is glamourized. The Star offers us perspective—a bigger worldview and a reminder that things won’t always be this difficult. In fact, she is the card I drew in 2020 when we went into our first lockdown. Be gentle, be soft, go slow…that is her medicine.

And so I think of her again, now in a much better place than in 2020, and find gratitude in her wisdom. I’m learning how to flow and better listen to myself and my needs. I’m relishing the art of finding joy in the little things—and it is an art, as I literally rewire my default pandemic settings to look for the flaw, the potential problem, or, worse, echoes of past mistakes that I can’t do a thing about. Now? I do what the Star suggests and look at the Big Picture. Nothing’s perfect in the world, but that doesn’t mean life can’t be filled with wonder and connection. 

I even find medicine in the plot twists and setbacks. 

Take the first week of the spring term. My computer stopped working. Then, the office printer. Then my lamps. AND THEN my car died, thanks to record temperature lows. It would be easy to get frustrated at all these setbacks or wonder about Mercury in Retrograde. Instead, I used them as opportunities. I got to know my campus IT person better and had a chance to chat with my favorite colleagues when I moved to another place to print out my class handouts. I also expressed gratitude for the fact that I always prepare my lesson plans in advance just in case anything like this ever happens. Yay, for past Maria! So, really…there was nothing to stress about, and it's better that these issues got resolved now before the term got busier. Energetically?

It cleared out the last of the stagnant energy from the past few years. 

It was also a real gift that my car wouldn’t start on a day when I could work from home. No pressing meetings or in-person classes made it so that a really stressful situation ended up being a cozy day at home, drinking copious amounts of tea and working in my yoga pants until my car was ready for pickup. Now it drives like a dream, even through the snow we’ve been lucky enough to have these past few weeks. Lunch was a warm bowl of mushroom soup, and each completed task was punctuated by belly rubs (my familiars’, not mine). As for my lamps…well, I think I needed to shine a new light on my life. 

It’s all about perspective and I’ve been shifting mine to find the light in these difficult times. 

This is what FLOW is…leaning into daily life, with all its ups and downs, reading the signs and synchronicities, listening to your energy shifts so that you can cultivate a soul-nourishing life. As I finish writing this, I’m sitting in one of my favorite coffee shops, enjoying the cozy light as I watch snow fall outside. This, too, slows me down, and I’m grateful for the gentle hush that washes over our city and the way the world seems to soften against a backdrop of snow.

So this year, why not make FLOW and JOY your focus and see how your life unfolds. As I often say, the more we open ourselves to the magic all around us, the more we find. Isn’t that wonderful?

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational collection of musings touching on life’s simple pleasures, everyday fantasy, and absolutely delectable recipes that will guarantee to stir the kitchen witch in you.  If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is the everyday, subscribe here.

Want even more inspiration to make your dream life a reality?  Follow me on Facebook, Pinterest, and  Instagram.  Thanks for following!

Beltane Spells

On May first, I wove ribbons in my hair and danced in the meadow until the buzzing in my heart matched the buzzing of the bees.  On the sixth, I ate tender strawberries and enjoyed the feel of each tiny seed slipping down my throat. On the twelfth, I planted lemon balm because I am forever in need of soothing and sunshine.  I somehow never quite trust soft gentle things when they pad into my life like a cat ready to luxuriate in my attention—but I’m learning.

Even the tarot gives me sunshine. Again and again, it asks me to let the light in.  I wish it would tell me how because the only way I know is to surround myself with sunflowers and jazz records and radishes so red they look like they could stain my fingers with their exuberance.

Then today I tried to capture the scent of lilacs as they fade and give way to summer—knowing full well I will have to wait until another turn of the wheel to savor their ephemeral perfume fresh from the bud.  But that doesn’t stop me from bottling what I can of their essence so that when I am bottled up I can uncap that violet vial, breath in, and remember that I am a spring evening—full of softness and invitation to those willing to linger in solitude under the moonlight.

I am as wild as a dandelion head, made up of wishes that will fearlessly find their place in the world, not the stiff thoughts that fill my mind when I try to mend the things that keep falling apart—Orpheus was right. Nothing good ever comes from looking back.

Instead, I wash myself in lilac perfume to remember that the world is full of soft and sweet things and that I needn’t always smell of sweat and tears.  I let my bare feet kiss wet grass. And I take the last lilac buds to weave with the ribbons in my hair so that even my dance is a magenta promise of something more.

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

How to Cultivate a Witchy Garden

It’s that time of year when I’m dying to get my hands dirty.  I’ve been collecting seeds all winter and have started prepping my garden space by turning the soil, cleaning up the debris that protected it over the colder months, and thinking about where I’ll put my plants. I’m dizzy with the promise of a summer in my magical garden space where my biggest concern is harvesting and drying my medicinal herbs fast enough—the hard years of pandemic teaching forgotten under the sun’s nurturing gaze and the pliant soil beneath my feet.

This is a feeling that is always with me, even in the winter, warming my soul when it’s too cold to be outside.  You see, I grew up in a magical garden.  My mother was the original kitchen witch who grew so many herbs and plants in our backyard that stepping out there was like entering this secret garden of enchanted things—it still is!  

I remember when I learned that the licorice and lavender and lemon verbena she planted had medicinal properties and that you could steep them to make delicious and healing tisanes. I was obsessed with collecting these plants, brewing with them, and drying them to store in cool jars I’d collected over the years.  Yeah…I think it’s pretty clear that I was always kind of witchy!

Even when I left home, I made it a point to bring a little bit of that garden magic with me wherever I went. Sometimes it was just a few plants on a windowsill in my grad school apartment.  Other times, it was a magnificent patio garden, complete with vermicompost, where I grew all sorts of culinary and medicinal herbs.  Or it was an open space where I could sneak away to plant early spring leeks and onions or the Pinterest board where I pinned everything I wanted in my dream garden, the place I’d cultivate when I lived in my forever home (yes, it will closely resemble the house in the movie, Practical Magic, naturally). 

Plant magic is so much a part of my being, especially as a bruja, that I’ve come to think of my garden as an enchanting space for conjuring.  I have a natural affinity for plants and have often sought solace in their company when the outer world gets to be too much (truly, plants and cats are much more sensible than humans, at least that’s what my familiar says, and I tend to agree with him). 

Sometimes, though, it might seem like a daunting task to create a witchy garden full of medicinal herbs and magical plants.  Where do you start?  How do you maintain it?  What plants do you use?  The most important thing to creating a magical garden is your intention—that desire for a more magical life—and taking enjoyment in learning as you go.  

So, if, like me, you’re looking to be witchier than ever this year, here are a few tips, in no particular order, to cultivating a witchy garden.  It goes without saying, however, that any witchy tips you get here are general guidelines—see what resonates with you and then make your own magic as you develop your relationship to the space you’re working with and the plants that speak to you. 

Don’t get too manictured! I quietly cringe at the perfectly manicured gardens in magazines.  I can practically hear the plants screaming to be free! A garden should be a sanctuary where you let your hair down, walk barefoot, and forget about the world for a bit.  Where you plants can thrive and grow wontonly.  Sure, tend your garden, but don’t turn it into the environmental equivalent of those airbrushed models on a magazine cover—they’re not real and should not be images of beauty we aspire to. Instead, embrace the wild messiness of growing things.  It’s good for the soul.

Remember that all plants are magic. Who didn’t spend afternoons as a child gathering roots and twigs and leaves and stirring them up to make potions and mudpies? It’s as if we all instinctively knew there was something magical to these living breathing things. (If you are one of those rare and strange creatures who never did that…I feel sorry for you.  But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy that kind of fun now—go get your hands dirty and collect plants that call to you!).  As you go about cultivating your garden, learn about the flowers, herbs, and produce your plant. They all have lovely magical, medicinal, and, yes, even mundane histories.  Each of them has stories and there’s something powerful to learn more about them. You’ll be surprised how much of their stories

Talk to your plants…and don’t be surprised if they talk back. Oftentimes, the plants we are most attracted to have the medicine we need.   For example, one year, I was deeply drawn to Juniper, the seeds, the leaves, and the sharp smell of its essential oils.  I later learned that Juniper is a deeply healing plant that is specifically known for taking negative energy and turning it into light.  As it happens, that was the exact magic I needed as I was healing from some toxic situations and learning to find my own happiness again.  And, yeah, you should check on your plants and talk with them as you tend them.  My mornings aren’t complete without a cup of coffee in the garden and a good chat with growing things before I draw the tarot.

Leave those weeds for the birds and the bees. Okay, I know that we don’t want a garden that’s overgrown with weeds but some are seriously important! This goes back to not being too manicured.  The garden is a living ecosystem so leave those dandelions to help our pollinators, just as wildflowers attract birds who help keep pests in line. Some plants that are so aggressive they become like weeds (I’m talking to you, mint!), so do what you have to do to make sure you keep your unwanted plants in check but allow your garden to be a joyful wild ecosystem that isn’t hemmed in by hospital-like tidiness. The wildlife and your mind will thank you!

Embrace composting. There is nothing more magical than taking scraps and other discards and turning them into pure gold.  It’s positively alchemical! Composting is a fairly easy thing to learn how to do and one of the cheapest and most eco-friendly ways to nourish your plants--seriously, ditch the chemical fertilizers and other junk that’s bad for the environment.  I also like to think of all the energetic junk I’m composting for future fertile soil as I feed my vermicompost or turn the heap.  It makes me feel like no experience, piece of writing, or feeling is wasted.  Even if it’s something I have to let go of, it has done its part to help nourish my inner garden.  It’s very cathartic!  

Know your local ecosystem.  I love my local medicinal plants like globemallow and yerba mansa, not to mention the drought-hardy Hollyhocks.  Part of cultivating a witchy garden is knowing the land around you and the plants and animals that thrive there.  When you garden in harmony with the environment around you, you produce better yields, have happier plants and wildlife, and embrace your inner wildflower. 

I suppose if there’s one last bit of advice to give you as you cultivate your witchy garden, it’s to listen to your intuition. Plant the plants that make you happy. Design your space in a way that soothes the soul. Go slow. Enjoy the sacred simple pleasure of time spent with growing things. And always, always make a little time each day to get your hands dirty.

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

Witchier Than Ever...

When I first started this blog, oh, almost ten years ago, I got in the habit of starting each year with a new year’s resolution, something to meditate on for the year. I did everything from slow living, radical self-care, and thinking about living more sustainably.  After a while, many of these things became an integral part of my life. Then the pandemic happened and I felt a decreased desire to focus too hard on another goal, even if it was rooted in my desire for cultivating a more magical life.

There’s nothing wrong with making resolutions—in fact, I rather like the idea of choosing something to gently meditate on throughout the year. It’s like my daily tarot card reading. It’s nice to have something to help you get clarity on what you want to manifest in your life or help you explore your inner world.  Intention setting is one of the most mundane forms of magic-making and all the more powerful for its simplicity. 

That said, when I took a pandemic-inspired step back, I realized that I’d gotten better (despite a few bumps in the road), at integrating things like self-care and energetic awareness into my daily life.  Part of it came from years of practice.  The other part, from writing Practically Pagan ~ An Alternative Guide to Magical Living.  Writing that book helped me return to the fundamentals of magical living, ways of being that are intuitive and seamlessly integrated into our daily lives.  Writing has always been one of the most powerful forms of spell-crafting for me.

In the process, I got rid of the things cluttering up my life: complicated exercise regimes, things that made me feel bad about myself, the constant need to apologize or over-explain things, saying yes to too many demands, self-doubts, and anxieties that lead to bad habits in an effort to self-soothe.  I got rid of people, too. I have no room for pandemic-deniers and performative allies in my life, and joyful hex bigots out of my space.

In their place, I created more space for unexpected magic. I cultivated my relationship to the tarot and to seeds—soul seeds and turnip seeds, aggressively joyful hollyhock seeds and the seeds of dreams I hope to nourish in the coming year.  I gave into my inner kitchen witch and bought a pizza stone—then rigorously tested the best ways to make a pizza (wink wink).  I stopped reading books that bored me and binge-read series that brought me joy.  I trusted my intuition more even when it seemed to go counter to the surface of things.   I lit beeswax candles and made time for cat cuddles at the end of the day.  I learned the gentle art of divine receptivity.

I grew things. I made things. I dreamed about a lot of things.  And I conjured some things, too.  I listened.  At times I spoke.  I let my body—the ripples of pleasure and coils of tension—tell me what I did and didn’t need in my life.  Mostly I embraced my deeply introverted need for solitude and the healing revelations that can only come with time spent in silence. 

In other words, I allowed myself to embrace my full witchiness.  In my own way and via my own path.  The past few years have been hard in so many ways that I’ve had to make a conscious effort not to harden my heart or shut down as I pour all my energy into trying to maintain important boundaries.  Don’t get me wrong, boundaries are essential!  And I do keep my heart safe from the people who would abuse my kindness and empathy.  But my inner-bruja has also helped me remember that I ferociously maintain those boundaries so that I can have the space and safety to nourish joy, Eros energy, and sacred simple pleasures. 

Sometimes the best thing we can do for ourselves is to trust in our ability to keep ourselves safe from the proverbial demons of the world so that we may hold space for the divine.  It is no small thing to allow our energy to flow, welcome in divine receptivity, and make room for unexpected magic. 

So this year? My new year’s resolution is to be witchier than ever. 

What magic are you hoping to conjure this new year?

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

The Bruja's Guide to Everyday Magic

With the publication of Practically Pagan ~ An Alternative Guide to Magical Living, many readers have asked me what I mean when I say I write about and practice ‘everyday magic.’ In fact, a number of people have picked up my new book expecting complex spells and occult practices, only to be disappointed by pages filled with anecdotal stories and tips about energy, intention, and conjuring so subtle it’s part of our daily lives. The irony, of course, is that these simple acts of energetic awareness—what some people call mindfulness or intentional living—are actual magical practices! These daily conjurings might lack some of the sparkle and flash of more elaborate mystic practices, but they are some of the most powerful forms of spell casting and an important foundation for any kind of magical practice.

I’m all about keeping it simple. Our thoughts are spells. Our energy tells us everything we need to know about a specific situation or person, as does their vibe. Our daily habits shape the kind of life we want to live—so we need to be intentional about it. We can also sometimes get a little carried away with the theater of the occult world, so much so that the real magic gets lost under the hocus-pocus. I think of it as burning incense to cleanse your home when the space is dirty and what you really should be doing is giving it a good scrub down. Light those incense, sure, but don’t ignore the important task of tending your sanctuary. It’s not just dust and crumbs on the floor, but stagnant energy that needs to be cleared out through the literal act of cleaning. That’s the thing with magic: the best kind is simple, but also hard work.

Hard work—but worth it. So if you’re just beginning your journey into the mystic world or are a long-time pagan or witchy soul wanting to get a refresher on foundational practices, check out my Bruja’s Guide to Everday Magic below.

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

Divine Receptivity

This summer I did perhaps the most radical and terrifying thing I’ve done in a long time: I gave myself space.  I did less—much less than I’ve been used to doing.  I let my feelings and desires dictate my actions.  If I didn’t like the way something felt, I didn’t do it.  If it brought me joy, I did more of it.  I was strict about this too, being careful to establish boundaries in areas where I’d allowed myself to become boundary-less, resisting the temptation to do more just to maintain the status quo.  Then I let myself explore the world not from the perspective of a professor or writer or even a bruja, but as the Page of Cups in the tarot.

I let go of expectations of what this second pandemic summer should look like or how my life should be unfolding.  Instead, I relearned what it means to look at the world with unblemished wonder and excitement, like the Page of Cups peering into a goblet only to find a little fish—the symbol of soul and inspiration. As the Page of Cups explores her world, she reconnects to self, to soul, to a more creative and regenerative way of being simply by tapping into her innate joyful curiosity about the world around her. I call this exploratory feeling Divine Receptivity or the art of opening yourself to the wonders of the universe.  

To be clear, that’s not the same thing as being open to everything—boundaries are important! This is especially true if you’re always in the habit of trying to feel safe, struggling to maintain healthy boundaries or both. I mean, I’m one of the few BIPOC faculty at two higher learning institutions and am only now coming to terms with the fact that so much of my energy goes into guarding against all manner of things designed to make me feel less-than or that exploit my labor.  And it’s important to establish those boundaries early and often so that I can have a better work-life balance.  But I’m also learning that I've extended that same guarded energy into my day-in, day-out life outside of higher ed, which isn’t all that healthy.

Openness is something I’ve had to relearn. Divine Receptivity is about realizing that you can be receptive to enjoyable things that are just for you and for no other purpose than that they are pleasurable. You don’t have to share them on social media or, terrible as this sounds, include others if it doesn’t bring you joy. I’ve realized, especially in this past year, that I’ve done a lot in my professional life to make others feel comfortable, but that, perhaps, it is not always my job to put people at ease or overextend myself to avoid conflict, particularly when that only enables systemic inequality.

What about my needs? My wellness?  My desire to be a human being outside of my career, much as I enjoy both teaching and writing?  Enter Divine Receptivity in which I allow myself the space and freedom to let go of burdens that are not mine to carry and open my energy to the soft, sweet possibilities of life.  I’ve relearned the fact that I don’t have to be a task-oriented worker-bee all the time.  I’m allowed to flow, I’m allowed to do less, I’m allowed to be open to experiences and things I haven’t been quite able to imagine yet.  I’m allowed to create space for new possibilities and time to simply let my mind wander.

Strangely, I’ve found that it’s a lot of work relearning how to do this. I’ve had to work through the guilt that can crop up when I’m enjoying myself—surely I should be working! Or the unexpected emotions that surface as I clear through blockages. Divine Receptivity is, in part, about allowing ourselves to safely feel what we need to feel, knowing that the universe is watching over us.  Synchronous happenings and signs will guide us to a deeper understanding of ourselves and a more joyous approach to everyday life.

So when I start feeling like should get back on that dizzying merry-go-round of fast living, I take a deep breath, let those thoughts settle, and think about the quiet wonders I’ve been able to enjoy this summer, wonders I haven’t always created space for in the past.  Like last night, I sat on my patio and watched the sun set.  It stained the Sandia mountains a lusty orange and the clouds behind it a blushing pink.  My familiar sat in my lap.  We soaked in the soft hush of the evening and let the desert air wash over us.  

This morning, I watched the birds—finches, doves, sparrows, swallows—flit and swoop and flirt their way through their breakfasts as I weeded my garden.  I let the gentle music of growing things soften my heart and soothe my soul.  In that moment, I was whole.

For the first time in a long time, I’m relearning what truly makes me happy, thanks to Divine Receptivity.  What new ways of being will you open yourself up to?

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational collection of musings touching on life’s simple pleasures, everyday enchantments, and delectable recipes that will guarantee to stir the kitchen witch in you.  If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is the everyday, subscribe here.

Want even more inspiration to make your dream life a reality?  Follow me on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter.  Thanks for following!

Brujeria

So I spend a lot of time talking with fellow witchy folk, pagans, practitioners of nature spirituality, and the plain old curious, about how we define things like witchcraft. I talk to my college students about this too, as we analyze and deconstruct representations of witchcraft in classic literature, pop culture, and other media.
Like being mestiza, being a bruja means different things to many different practitioners.

As with all communities, witches are not a monolith. There are Wiccans and pagans, natural witches and practitioners whose craft developed out of popular culture representations of powerful women. Then there are those who practice culturally specific forms of their spirituality. It takes all types. Some go deep down the rabbit hole of esoteric occultism, other just hoard too many mason jars and acknowledge the divinity in every living being. Likewise, there are those whom mainstream culture would consider witches, but identify more as folk conjurers. I could go on about all the nuances here but for the sake of brevity (this is only a blog post, after all), I’ll keep it focused on what practicing Brujeria means to me.

First, I specifically use the term bruja here and not witch (although I use that too) because I want to make it clear that my cultural identity as mestiza is an important part of my magical practice. I can’t separate one from the other. And while there are many things I do that are in alignment with general witchy practices (like hoarding all those mason jars), there are some aspects of my bruja identity that are singular to the mestiza culture and my relationship to it (again, we’re not a monolith so I’m not speaking for all mestizx or brujx here).

At the end of the day, being a bruja for me is about celebrating my interconnectedness with the earth, the spirit realm, and those who want to live more soulfully. It’s about reclaiming my right to joy and acknowledging that there is more to this life than we can readily see with the naked eye. It’s about healing generational and ancestral trauma and developing narratives beyond systemic oppression. And it’s about recognizing that I have the power—the magic—to shape my own story. I am a writer as well as a bruja, after all, so I know that there is power in words, that stories are healing spells, and that book magic is the most powerful form of conjuring.

Social Justice & Brujeria

I can’t talk about being a bruja without talking about social justice. The term bruja or witch has been used throughout history to suppress marginalized identities. In New Mexico, Spanish colonizers, aided by the Catholic church, applied the term to shamans, curanderas (folk healers), Indigenous people, midwives…the list goes on and on. Basically, if someone represented a threat to the church, meaning they had access to knowledge beyond the scope of the colonizers, then they were villainized. It was a classic case of silencing any and all voices that challenged authority or posed a threat to white Catholic patriarchy. This lead to white-washing history and ongoing cultural erasure, assimilation, and appropriation. Anyone whose family has been in New Mexico long before it was an official state is a product of that history of colonization. We have two choices when it comes to grappling with that history: We can perpetuate the trauma or we can push back against lateral and systemic oppression.

Enter the bruja. She is an archetype that reclaims the once negative term witch and finds power in her otherness. Brujeria is about taking our power back and honoring our divine right to joy, pleasure, hope, happiness. We refuse to perpetuate those histories of trauma and break the cycle by crafting our own healing journeys that go beyond performing our culture or our violent history for mass consumption. We make marginalized identities more visible and pushing back against white supremacy, toxic patriarchy, and anything that tries to limit our joy. We center the mestizx identity. We reclaim what we can of our folk magic roots and mixed-race heritage, and forge ahead with new stories, new ways of being. Integral to those new stories are a celebration of inclusion, sustainability, equity, and radical self-care. How we go about all this might look a little different for every bruja, but it’s something we all do.

Natural Spirituality & Everyday Magic

Here’s where my bruja practice might different from other witchy practitioners. I’m all about what I call divine receptivity. rather than traditional spell-crafting (the kind of stuff you see in witchy pop culture representations), divine receptivity asks you to reconnect with yourself and the universe, listening to the life signs and synchronicities that will guide you throughout your day. So I’m not trying to force a specific outcome, but rather living more in tune with nature and my own natural rhythms. I set intentions and I work hard to manifest them—but I also listen when the universe tells me something is not meant to be mine. I let go of what I think I should have or what my life should look like and trust the signs that always lead me to something even more abundant and daring than I ever could have dreamed up on my own.

And yeah, there’s some spell work in there too, in the form of tea blending, body butter making, and stew stirring. Every mundane act is a form of intentional conjuring to me as I relearn my profound capacity for joy and fulfillment. I practice what I can of curanderismo. I talk long walks in nature. I read by lamplight. I write and deal the tarot. I plant healing herbs in my garden and cook delicious meals. I enjoy good company and nourishing conversations. All that is magic to me.

Natural spirituality is also about respecting my internal life, my autonomy, and my right to privacy. Healing from colonization is, in part, recognizing that I do not have to share culturally-specific parts of my practice with anyone outside of it. I do not have to perform for a white gaze or always make my magic available to those who want in. There are some things you can share with the world, and some things are just for you. Like any good bruja knows, it is essential to protect your magic and not feeling like you have to give it away. Again, this goes back to the social justice aspect of my craft: I am not required to deplete or exploit my natural resources in order to aid those unwilling to do the hard work of healing for themselves.

Pleasure Magic & the Divine Feminine

Here’s where things get really juicy. Once you’ve come to terms with generation trauma and disrupted the cycle, once you’ve opened yourself to divine receptivity, the world of pleasure magic opens up to you. This is all about sex positivity, body positivity, joy positivity. I know joy positivity might sound redundant, but I’ll tell you a little dark secret about experiencing joy as a marginalized identity: it often leads to guilt. Did you earn that doctorate degree you’ve been working night and day for the past few years? Guilt! Did you get offered that highly competitive job at an inclusive and progressive college based on the years you spent developing your CV for just that? The shame! Oh, you wrote a multi-awarding winning book on ordinary magic? Tragedy! Have a hot date with someone who’s awesome and makes you feel good? Slut!

Except all those things are actually quite wonderful. But what happens is that every time you change the narrative about women of color in this case from oppressed and struggling, to successful and empowered, you feel pangs of guilt and shame. It’s called internalized oppression. And it’s a bitch. There’s also quite a bit of social shaming involved here (aka lateral oppression). People might say you’re getting a little too cocky or that god has blessed you or worse, you got where you are because of affirmative action. In all cases, those statements either intentionally or intentionally disempower you and make you feel as if you don’t deserve the accomplishments you’ve worked hard for. Let’s face it, an empowered woman of color is a threat to the social norm. Throw in some lingering Catholic guilt and pretty soon you start finding ways to make yourself suffer.

That’s where pleasure magic and the divine feminine come in. They push back against internalized oppression. Pleasure magic is the daily invocation of all things sensual and joyful, from the sacred simple pleasure of an afternoon cup of tea to the titillating delights of a good romance novel or the profound ecstasies of an intimate relationship. Of course, we look to the goddess within, the divine feminine in all of us, regardless of our gender orientation, for guidance here. She allows us to value our emotions and instincts, to feel what we need to feel for healing and insight.

Invoking the divine feminine about reclaiming our right to joy and rejecting anything that tries to control how we should feel about our bodies, our sexuality, our accomplishments (our external life), or our magical practice (our internal life). Pleasure magic is all about autonomy—joyfully and rigorously asserting your right to explore and express yourself as you choose free from the pressures to perform your culture, perpetuate oppression, or diminish yourself in order to be more socially acceptable.

In claiming the title of bruja, I reclaim my autonomy. I conjure new narratives for myself and my community. I celebrate and advocate for inclusivity in all that I do. I revel in my pleasure magic practice. And I do not apologize for loudly, joyfully taking up space.

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

5 Things I Learned about the Tarot from Tarot Tuesdays

A little over two years ago, I began to study the tarot more seriously. I’d gotten my first deck a few years before in a spark of divine synchronicity. I’d been thinking about purchasing a tarot deck and learning more about it. I hadn’t told anyone about it though. It was more of a fleeting thought. Then, for my birthday a week or so later, I received my first deck from my parents. They said they read about it and it made them think of me—it was a feeling that wouldn’t go away. Clearly, the universe was telling me that studying the tarot was a good idea and was making sure I started on the right foot.

That first deck of mine was the female-POC centric Motherpeace tarot and it remains my favorite deck because it decenters patriarchy and whiteness with rounded cards that explore the Divine Feminine. It’s the one I keep for my personal, private use. A few years later, my older sister got me the Steampunk tarot. It’s the one I use when I need to feel limitless in my imagination and innovation, like any Steampunk heroine worth her salt. And this past winter, my younger sister gifted me a Spanish tarot deck, a lovely acknowledgment of my esoteric studies and our mestisaje roots—oh, and my perpetual desire to get better at my Spanish which sometimes falls by the wayside. I love all these tarot decks, each one speaking to me when and as I need their specific magic.

The deck I use for my writing and public bruja life, however, is the classic Rider-Waite tarot. I bought the Radiant edition from my local herb store because the bright colors appealed to my senses and my love of bold, loud things. I chose this deck specifically for my #TarotTuesdays project in which I would write a 78-word story based on #synchronicity and one of the cards in the 78-card tarot deck and post it on social media each week-ish. I chose this deck for the project because it is one of the oldest and most iconic of decks, and, historically, the foundation for many other decks.

Each week, I would think about whatever it was I was going through. I’d let my feelings wash over me, allow situations to flit in and out of my mind as they would while I shuffled the deck. When it felt right, I’d pull a card. I’d spend the next few days researching and learning about the card and pairing that knowledge with the personal experiences I was going through along with a heavy dollop of free-association. It was a beautiful journey that allowed me to explore the tarot and my relationship to the mystic world. I’m far from being an expert but, after writing stories inspired by those cards for the past two or so years, I think I have a solid foundation for deepening my knowledge of the tarot.

Here are the major things I learned from my Tarot Tuesdays project:

1. The more you deepen your bond to the cards, the more clarity you have in your readings. The tarot is its own energetic entity, which means you have to get to know it before you can ask it questions. Think of this as relationship building. Spend time with the cards—just shuffling, pursuing them, holding them in your hands. Even letting them sit in a stack on your writing desk is a good way to establish a bond. I know—this might sound a little too woo-woo for some, but you’re reading a witchy blog about tarot, so…talking about relationship building with your tarot deck shouldn’t be entirely unexpected. The big thing is that if you take the time to get to know your deck, the more you’ll get a sense of how you personally read the cards and what wisdom they have to offer you. If you don’t take your time with them, they won’t speak to you or the message will be muddled. Which leads me to my next lesson learned:

2. Each deck has its own energy. Think about how I just described my tarot collection earlier in this post. Each deck has its own kind of magic and its own wisdom to offer. It’s important to know that going in so that you can choose the right deck for the kind of reading you’re looking for. If you aren’t sure what that is, choose the deck that calls to you on an instinctive level—that’s the medicine you need. You also need to have a healthy respect for these divination energies. Don’t be flip when handling your deck or treat tarot reading as a party trick. That’s a good way to piss off the cards and make them stop speaking to you. As with all things mystic or supernatural, it’s a good idea to go in with a healthy respect for the unknown and the unseen. Dabbling or toying with those energies is never a good idea.

3. All cards are designed to help you and offer hope—even the ”bad” cards. The fives are notoriously bad cards, signaling chaos, reversals, and upending the status quo. Similarly, any card in reverse traditionally has more negative connotations—except for the fives reversed, because they are contrary in nature. Here’s the thing, though, reversals, disruptions, and chaos are all part of life and, when embraced and explored, offer hope and healing. Sometimes you need to upend the status quo! Or maybe you’re feeling stuck and these cards point out what it is that is keeping you from moving forward. They aren’t punishments or judgments (and if you feel that way when you get one of these cards, it’s likely you’re still working through toxic puritanical or religious norms…or maybe that’s just me). They’re more like insights and revelations. It’s important to remember that when you go about your tarot reading so that you don’t get stuck in the old superstitious readings of yore which can be a little more doom and gloom with these not-really-so-bad cards. Which reminds me…

4. Sometimes the scariest looking cards have the most hopeful wisdom to offer. We’ve all see the scary movie that shows the damsel in distress pulling the Death card or the Devil card right before things get full-on gothic. Or you have cards like the Ten of Swords, in which a figure is literally impaled by ten swords through the back and lies dead on the ground. It’s hard to think positively about such a brutal image, but, in fact, it’s asking you to face the thing you are most afraid of—the figure turned its back on their problems and tried to run, rather than face what the need to face. These scarier cards are like a good gothic tale. They want you to face the thing in the shadows, confront it so that you can move forward. They just use scary imagery to shake you out of complacency so you can hear their message. I’ve actually come to see them as incredible hopeful cards!

5. Everyone has a unique way of reading the cards. While there are some constants in most tarot readings, like the symbolism behind the major and minor acrana, it’s up to the diviner to interpret the nuances of it. You will develop your own personal way of reading the cards as you get to know the tarot more and nourish your bond with it. Around the first-year mark of my #TarotTuesdays project, I realized I was developing my own voice and my own take on the cards. I would get information from sources like Biddy Tarot, Wildly Tarot, and Modern Tarot and then let their wisdom sit with me. Naturally, my own take involved a dash of hope, a sprinkle of joy, a heaping serving of brujeria, and more than a little everyday magic.

Like I said earlier, I’m still not a tarot expert by any measure, but I think I’ve got a solid foundation to continue my tarot journey. I’d like to learn more about the individual symbolism of each card, the differences between the major and minor arcana, and maybe get to a point where I don’t have to consult my sources when I do a reading. But that, too, is part of the joy of depending your relationship to the tarot…the more time you spend with it, the more you learn, and the more wisdom it reveals to you. It just wants to know you are willing to put in the time.

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

Everyday Magic for Difficult Times: Journey Into Self with Radical Self-Care & Slow Living

I started the year with one goal in mind: to live more slowly. I’d been feeling that I’d been moving too fast, zooming from here to there, and caught in a cycle of overworking. I wanted more space for quiet. More time to reconnect with myself and those I love. Space to detox from my busy addiction. Little did I know that two short months later, I would be practicing social distancing due to the pandemic. It certainly slowed me down!

It was a strange and eerie transition, even without moving my teaching life completely online, educating students about why they should be taking this situation seriously and how to best stay safe and help their community (wash their hands, stay home). Then there was checking in on family in Italy and New York, along with friends in Seattle to make sure they were safe and well. And missing family here that I couldn’t visit regularly, though we live so close to one another. I won’t even get into grocery shopping—once a ritual that was so soothing for me! (Luckily, I can have groceries and local produce delivered to my doorstep, thanks to our incredible farmers.) Between the understandable frenzy of the outside world and my own worries about our changing reality, I found myself, like so many others, adrift in a sea of confusion and uncertainty.

Suffice it to say that when all the dust of the transition settled, I found I needed to get grounded and return to everyday magic. Yes, magic. And it has been no easy task. I quickly realized that I could be just as loud and busy at home as I was in my regular routine. My mind raced. I was constantly plugged into my online classes—when I wasn’t glued to my newsfeed. Clearly, I needed to shift my attention from the craziness out in the world toward nature and the quiet mysticism that has always guided me through difficult times.

Return to Slow Living

My first step back to everyday magic was to let go of things I couldn’t control (the outside world) and be proactive about the things I could (teaching, social distancing, helping my community, my own well-being). Then I took a deep breath and turned off the news. Stepped away from my phone. Didn’t even turn on the TV. Instead, I put on an old Bill Evans record, cooked a simple dinner, and read a book by cozy lamplight while cuddling my familiar, Smoke.

For the first time in ten days, I slept long and deep, and, perhaps more importantly, I dreamed deeply. Those dreams were like a soothing balm on my ragged and tired soul. I’d reconnected to my magic again. This experience taught me that what I needed to do during this time of social distancing (or New Mexico’s new stay at home orders) was to focus on my connection to self, to nature, to the mystic world.

Of course, later I realized that what helped me relax and reconnect with my inner life was slow living. I turned off electronics. I let go of my need to stay busy. I simply enjoyed a quiet night at home and pressed paused on my racing mind. Slow living wasn’t just a soothing luxury then, it was absolutely essential to my overall well-being and mind, body, spirit connection. It is only with that connection that I could remain a grounding, hopeful force. Only then could my magic flow and be a bright and steady light to counter the darkness.

Return to Radical Self-Care

Slowing down also showed me how I’d been neglecting my self-care needs. It’s hard to feel like you can take care of yourself when you’re so fixated on making sure everyone else is okay or worrying about anything and everything. But that’s no way to live, especially in times of crisis. I began to understand that keeping myself healthy was an important part of helping others. It meant my immune system was in top form, which meant I was less likely to get sick and risk passing stuff on to others. It meant I was better at helping my students with the move online and that I was learning how to be more sensitive to myself and my needs.

I started off slowly. I paid attention to my energy levels. If I was tired, I didn’t push past that limit. I stopped expecting myself to keep a normal, action-packed routine. Instead, I settled into a quieter, slower pace. I prioritized yoga, house cleaning, patio gardening, and, when I felt it, walking. Evenings were for enjoying make a healthy dinner and decompressing. Then I made sure to get a full night’s sleep.

I also made a point of searching for good news in the midst of all the bad: communities coming together to support one another. Officials, like the New Mexico governor taking the safety and welfare of her people seriously with decisive action to curb the spread of the virus. The earth healing now that we collectively have had to curb our mindless consumerist habits and fast-paced lifestyle that contributes to climate change. Better still, we see that we can work together to protect mother earth, just like we are working together to deal with our current situation. The land is healing itself and we are healing our relationship to the land.

Reconnecting to radical self-care, then, reminded me that we have so much power and agency when it comes to dealing with this global crisis. Working together (albeit separately in our own homes) we do our part to conjure a solution to our current situation.

Journey Into Self

My energy opened up when I found my way back to slow living and radical self-care. I was calmer, more grounded. I begin to think of this time as an opportunity to turn inward and tend my internal life, something few of us often have a chance to do in the hustle and bustle of daily life. Now, it is as if life is forcing us to take that time—more time with our families, more time with ourselves, more time focusing on what really matters. Even now, I find myself thinking about things that even a month ago I was worrying over that now seem so small and insignificant. I’ve had to come to terms with the energy I’ve wasted on nonsense things!

Now, my focus is on a healthy and safe family, gratitude for my communities working together to help one another through this time, and the slow and steady conjuring of everyday magic. So if you find yourself struggling during this difficult time, as so many of us are for so many reasons, take heart and find your way back to the grounding power of the everyday mysticism with these simple tips:

Be gentle with yourself and others. So your first attempt at slow living didn’t go so well or you’re struggling to practice radical self-care. That’s okay. It’s a journey with many ups and downs. Go easy on yourself. You’re doing your best. And be gentle to those around you, too. We’re all in this together.

Feel what you need to feel…then let it go. Everyday magic isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s about creating space to safely feel what you need to feel, process what you need to process, and then allow yourself to move on. Don’t hold onto every hard emotion or passing anxiety. Take a deep breath. Let it go. Remember that you are allowed to feel joy at this time and seek refuge in your sacred simple pleasures.

Give yourself permission to be unproductive. I find myself writing a lot during this time but that’s because writing is a huge part of my self-care practice, helping me to stay grounded. I find refuge in cooking and cleaning to experience the catharsis of a good cleansing spell. Hope in gardening and crafting. But that doesn’t mean I’m working all the time! And if these things don’t soothe you, don’t do them. It’s easy to bring our addiction to busy home with us and use to avoid feeling what we need to feel. Don’t do that. Just create space to breathe. This is doubly true for those of you working from home and taking care of children. You’re doing so much already! It doesn’t all have to be perfect or insanely productive. What matters is that you and your family are home and safe. Enjoy your time together.

Remember that social distancing doesn’t mean social isolation. We are social creatures. Don’t deny yourself the comfort of connecting with others. As hermetic as my life seems now (okay, always!) I’ve found that in reality, I have so many relationships I’m grateful for. My family, first and foremost, but also my teaching community and students, who have all done an incredible job to help one another get through the term online. My writing and reading groups have been a huge part of my self-care practice as we discuss the magic of stories and check in on one another regularly. Then there’s my witchy community that is working to conjure a little more joy and calm in the world (more on that soon). In short, for a seemingly anti-social introvert, I’ve found that I’ve got an awful lot of love in my life. I appreciate being able to stay connected with these people thanks to the wonderful world of the internet. Take advantage of modern technology to connect with your tribe.

Be informed—but step away! I check the news once in the morning and then that’s it. Any more than that and I go down a rabbit hole of negative news and anxiety that’s not helping anyone or anything. I want to stay informed but then I focus on what needs immediate tending: my family, my home, my teaching, my writing. I’m also fond of taking social media breaks and screen-free time. Staying connected is good, but not so much that you begin to mindlessly scroll. Give yourself permission to stop following posts that are feeding into hysteria and follow only those with credible news, helpful information, and good vibes.

Treat this as an opportunity to turn inward. How often do we get the chance to work on our emotional and spiritual health? How often do we keep going when what we really need to do is reconnect with ourselves on a deeper level? This is a great time to reevaluate what really matters in our lives and let go of old patterns of living. Sink into your sanctuary. Allow yourself to unapologetically take care of yourself and your loved ones. Subtle but profound wisdom will come from small synchronicities and natural magic conjured from a quiter routine.

Reconnect with Nature. During all of this, spring has quietly swept through my city. Trees are blossoming. The morning birds sing me awake. My herb garden gets more fragrant with each passing day. Take all this in and celebrate the hope it inspires. Spring comes even after the hardest winter.

When all this is in the past, I won’t return to what Normal Life was before. I don’t think any of us will—or can. Instead, let’s make it better: slower, more thoughtful, kinder. Filled with love. And with more than a little everyday magic.

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

A Year of Slow Living

Last year, I committed to a year of sacred simple pleasures. I cultivated joy. I indulged in the little things that delighted me. I embraced the sacredness of pleasure. During my year of buying, using, and wasting less, I did just what it sounds like: I became ultra-mindful of my consumerist habits and focused on cultivating a greener lifestyle. If these past two years committing to both these things—consuming less and enjoying sacred simple pleasures—have taught me anything, it’s that the only way I can make meaningful changes in my life is if I slow down.

So much of my bad consumerist habits stemmed from being overworked, overscheduled, and in need of major soothing. I turned to retail therapy and stress shopping in an attempt to heal myself when what I really needed was to be more proactive about cutting stress and toxicity out of my life. The same goes for opening up to pleasure in all its forms. I had to create time and space to allow my capacity for enjoyment to strengthen and grow. I simply couldn’t explore what sacred simple pleasures were to me when I was too busy to have the energy to playfully explore my relationship to pleasure.

Both these experiences made me decide to commit to a year of slow living in order to continue cultivating a balanced life in harmony with self and nature. Slow living can mean a lot of things but, in essence, it’s about cutting out unnecessary things that clutter up your life and doing activities with purpose and pleasure. Rather than rushing around from commitment to commitment, you focus on the handful that you need or want to do. You take time for yourself and make every routine a ritual. So basically what I already do, with extra attention to examining and letting go of old habits that have me falling back into unnecessarily over-committing my time and energy to people, places, and things. I want to create space, in essence, for more everyday magic.

I have a few guidelines to help me focus on slow living (I won’t say rules because, well, that feels a little too restrictive for me!). They’re pretty simple but, as I’ve found over the past two years, pretty reliable ways of making sure I’m not moving too fast.

1. Enjoy more quiet time. It sounds funny, but towards the end of last year, I found myself fantasizing about quiet time. No music. No news. No loud conversations. Just me and my cat and the soft hum of our daily routine. The whistling kettle. The gentle clack of knitting needles making a blanket out of nothing but a strand of yarn and a few simple loops. The soft woosh of beeswax candles being lit. This intense desire for quiet made me realize how much noise I surrounded myself with each day and how important it was to unplug from it. I needed this quiet, in short, in order to hear myself.

2. Make more homemade meals. It’s no secret that I love cooking. And while I’ve lately come to enjoy the pleasures of the occasional take out meal, I find that slowing down for long enough to cook dinner during the week goes a long way to help me decompress and get grounded. I also get super excited at the grocery store thinking about what delicious, simple things I can make from the seasonal produce.

3. Carve out more unstructured time to play. In the past when I wanted to get out or doing something outside of my teaching life, I’d commit to a bunch of activities each week and pencil in all sorts of extracurriculars. It was fun at first….and then I’d inevitably get burned out on extroverted fun, usually mid-semester when my workload increased. I finally realized that part of the burnout was because I wasn’t always listening to what I felt like doing in the moment. Now, I’m learning to see what the day brings. I might have a few ideas of what I’d like to do over the week, but I don’t commit to anything unless I feel really excited about it. This has created such a relaxed, flexible way for me to explore my “playtime” without a strict structure that takes the fun out of things.

4. Prioritize reading time… I’ve seriously gotten into audiobooks over the past few years thanks to a friend (you know who you are!), and I absolutely love them. They are integral to my self-care and relaxation, especially during the heavy grading periods when my eyes hurt from too much computer time, but I need the comfort of a good book. Still, I miss the joys of an old fashioned paperback or ebook to sink into. There’s a magic to see the words on the page and slowly disappearing into a new world. Thanks to my HEAs All Day Books Club and my Occult Detective Book Club on Goodreads, I think I’ll be able to commit more time to reading. I’m shooting for 30 minutes each night before bed and am reworking my nightly routine so I can do it without falling asleep five minutes after I open my book, ha!

5. …and time in nature. It might be an urban hike, an afternoon reading in the park, or simply tending my potted herb garden, but I need time outdoors. I am a better person when I’ve had time to listen to the whispering of the trees and the idle chatter of birds. I’m even better when I’ve got dirt-stained hands and rosemary-perfumed skin. It reminds me that I am more than my accomplishments or the next thing on my to-do list.

6. Tune into my breath. It’s a funny thing, breathing. We do it unconsciously. Without thought or connection to our bodies. But I’ve found that when I stop and tune into my breathing patterns, I become more aware of the tension or feelings I might be holding onto. Sometimes in an effort to get through a packed day, for example, I find myself breathing short, shallow breathes which isn’t good for our nervous system or overall well-being. Pausing to slow our breathing—I’m talking deep belly breaths—helps soothe the sympathetic nervous system (that thing in control of our fight-or-flight responses). I also find that it has helped me stay better connected to myself and let of things that might be causing energetic stagnation or stressing my body.

What ways do plan to slow down and enjoy life?

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

Cultivating Routines as Rituals

I write a lot about the power of routine as ritual, or taking our day-in, day-out practices and turning them into meaningful, intentional activities that enhance the overall quality of our lives. But what does that really mean? And how to we turn these rote activities into sacred practices? First, we have to understand the difference between routine and ritual.

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, routine is defined as “a sequence of actions regularly followed.”  Pretty straight forward.  It’s the stuff we do regularly without fail, whether they are good for us (waking up early to exercise before work) or bad (always hitting the vending machine at three in the afternoon).  Some are more mundane: pay the rent at the first of the month, take your six-month visit to the dentist, get an oil and lube for your car. 

We are so used to these things as basic parts of adult life that we never really think too hard about them, unless something is out of joint (not sure how you will pay your rent, a sketchy dentists, weird nosies coming from your car’s engine).  Hell, our routines are so ingrained, we often zone out while caring from them.  Have you ever driven home from work via the same rout you take every day and have no memory of the drive?  That’s you on autopilot.  Your routine is so second-nature you disconnect from the actual activity you’re doing.

The second definition  of routine is equally telling.  It defines it as “a set sequence in a performance such as a dance or comedy act.”  So routine is not just a basic repetitive schedule, but something we perform, consciously or unconsciously.  It’s all about how important we want people to see us.  Running from one thing to the next practically shouts that we are so busy, so interesting, so important!  It also broadcasts our values.  Do you value squeezing in one more thing at work over finishing a few minutes early and leisurely heading home to enjoy some self-care?  To you pack your weekends with activities and experiences, or do you create time to dally?  Each decision shapes how we see ourselves and how others see us. 

But these definitions of routine only take is so far.  Only far enough to get us thinking about how we see ourselves and how we want others to see us, in fact.  But what about what we want to feel, experience, and enjoy?

That’s where ritual comes it. 

Ritual is about consciously, mindfully tending to our daily tasks, taking comfort in the familiarity and pleasure in how they ground and nurture us.  We welcome in the healthy and the good and actively eliminate the life-diminishing and bad.  

In order to do that, however, we have to change how we look at our day-in, day-out.  It’s not a place we need to escape from (who hasn’t fantasized about running away to a distant land when life gets complicated or dreary?).  It’s not a collection of minutes that fills our head until the real fun—a weekend, celebration, or happy event—can happen.  It’s about finding joy in the life we create for ourselves one small, deliberate act at a time.  I’m reminded of the Ten of Cups in the tarot here—the homey gratitude card that asks you to step back and appreciate all the simple magic of your life that you’ve worked hard to create. 

The first step to unplugging from rote activities—aka mindless routine—is to find enjoyment in the things we often perceive as One More Thing To Do.  Celebrate chores, rather than dread them by turning them into rituals that help you unplug from your workday and reconnect with yourself.  So I have to turn my compost—good.  Dirt in my fingernails grounds me and feeding the worms connects me to nature.  So I don't know what to cook for dinner—I 'll start with sautéing an onion and let my farm fresh ingredients speak to me.  Taking the extra time to cook a healthy meal allows me to nourish my whole being and enjoy the sensuousness of sautéing vegetables.  It allows me to slow down and reconnect to the deliciousness that is life.  Throw in a jazz record and a glass of wine, and you've got the makings of a divine evening.  

Now, doesn’t that sound lovely?

Each and every task becomes a devotional act to the energy I want to welcome into my life and an expression for gratitude for the abundance I have painstakingly cultivated.  A celebration of my hard work and a deliberate conjuring of more good energy. 

What routines will you transform into sacred rituals?

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

Cultivating the Joy of Sacred Simple Pleasures

This year's resolution was to indulge in more sacred simple pleasures, those things that make every day magical and remind us that pleasure is an integral part of life, love, and happiness.  Why? Because pleasure is significantly undervalued in our society. Because pleasure tells us a lot about ourselves--our values and priorities. Because it is okay to let go of toxic things in favor of radical joy.

Sounds delicious, right? And it is…when I have been able to celebrate this hedonism without censure or guilt. Or better still, when I can know what actually is pleasurable versus what I think should be pleasurable. Let’s just say I’ve learned a thing or two about my relationship to pleasure now that I’m roughly halfway through my year of focusing on it. You might think that because I write about everyday magic that I’ve got things all figured out. Well, I don’t! In fact never have I realized this more than in my efforts to cultivate sacred simple pleasures.

When I first started this exploration of sacred simple pleasure in January, I was coming off of a big year for me: my first book was published and had won the first of what would become many awards. I had won a major teaching award, too, and accomplished many other wonderful things in my career. All good things, but I found myself looking for balanced come the new year. All those accomplishments took serious fire energy, years of conjuring and concentration, before they came to fruition. I now needed to turn my time and attention to the gentler things in life: unstructured time, everyday joys, more passive experiences. In short, I needed to create space for possibility in my life.

It was hard at first. For as much as I write about the divine feminine and the softer energies in our lives, I realized just how much masculine energy I had. I was used to being assertive, aggressive in my pursuit of what I wanted. But the cultivation of sacred simple pleasures was entirely different. For one thing, the energy was much more passive than I was used too. I had to cultivate openness, receptivity which in itself felt intensely vulnerable. I was a novice in many respects here when I was used to being an expert. For another, I learned quickly that more people, more activities, more out-there energy didn’t necessarily invoke the sacredness of simple pleasures. In fact, it was the opposite: I was tired, anxious, and in need of some serious quiet time.

Through these two misconceptions about simple pleasures—that they are loud, performative things and that I can access with the same masculine energy I applied to my professional life—I quickly learned that I had to change my relationship to pleasure. Simple pleasures, for me, were found in quiet innocuous things: morning walks, sipping iced tea on my patio, a schedule-free Sunday, the magic of a good book.

They didn’t cost money or company to bring me pleasure.

A lot of different emotions have come up in the process—not all of them pleasant—as I come to terms with the fact that I have denied myself certain pleasures or suppressed parts of myself in order to fit into mainstream extroverted culture. There is joy in these epiphanies too, however bittersweet. They allow me to acknowledge past limitations so I can move forward unshackled.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that phrase too: to allow. It’s been popping up all over the place. What am I allowed energetically, emotionally, physically? Or put more accurately, what have I allowed myself to enjoy? The painful epiphany that emerged from these questions was that I haven’t allowed myself to enjoy certain things without even realizing that I’ve drawn a line in the sand. It’s a subtle thing—telling yourself you have to work instead of watching the sunset, letting stress taint your thoughts because you can’t possibly be this happy, being stingy with your fun because there’s so many other things you should be doing. Hell, I didn’t even know I was doing it half the time until I started making a conscious effort to create space for non-goal oriented pleasure this year.

Much of this comes from the cultural shame surrounding pleasure. If it feels good, mainstream religion tells us, it must be bad. Or think of the Puritanical roots of white American. If it’s enjoyable, it’s certainly the sowing seeds of sin. Worst of all, I’ve realized that the fear of pleasure is a fear of happiness. We spend so much time worrying about wether or not we will get our HEA (Happily Ever After) or finally Arrive that we never stop to think about how much those things terrify us. We wonder, secretly, if we are capable of holding so much joy.

So how do we tap into sacred simple pleasures with the myriad of feelings they unleash? Simple. Dive in. Without thought or questions. Unfettered by the fear of our own infinite potential for happiness. Be sinful. Shamelessly enjoy the small pleasures you have denied yourself in your own unconscious attempt to put a limit on happiness. Welcome in bigger pleasures too.

We’re allowed infinite pleasures, infinite happiness.

Find just one little thing you enjoy and revel in it. The magic will follow.

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you.  If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter for regular doses of enchantment.  Want even more inspiration?  Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter.  Here’s to a magical life! 

A Year of Sacred Simple Pleasures

Last summer, I wrote about the importance of sacred simple pleasures, those ephemeral soul-filling things that make life delicious. What followed was a season spent nourishing and prioritizing the daily joys that rejuvenated and refreshed.  I returned to teaching that fall excited and enthusiastic.  The experience made me realize how important it is to cultivate a wellness practice that emphasizes simple pleasures.

It also renewed my belief that simple pleasures are integral to conjuring everyday magic.  They are, in fact, sacred. Pleasure is significantly undervalued in our society.  If it feels good, it must not be important.  If it brings you joy, it’s not to be taken seriously…how many times have you heard or seen these ideas reinforced?  The way people turn their noses up at romance novels is  good example of this.  These books have sexytimes! All the feels! People having multiple orgasms! And a Happily Ever After! So…why are these bad things?

I blame this fear of pleasure on religion and a society that is still afraid of the sacred feminine.  Instead of nurturing this Eros energy as an important part of our day-to-day lives, we treat is transgressive, a deviant pursuit stuffed into weekends, vacations, and any place else that doesn’t fall into the seriously business of our daily routine. It’s kind of like Dry January: people binge drink on December and then repent with virtuous abstinence come January. Why not just enjoy moderate drinking year round? Even worse, we often ignore the simple pleasures right in front of us, and thus, an important part of enjoying our day: the morning sunrise, the unexpected blood oranges at the market, the delicious cup of oolong. When we deny ourselves these simple pleasures, we deny an important part of our identity.

In reality, pleasure tells us a lot about ourselves. It’s easy to identify a toxic situation because they make us feel so bad.  But once we address negative issues, how do we then cultivate joy?  It takes a lot to conjure and maintain happiness.  We have to get used to what pleasure feels like and perhaps more time to unabashedly court its presence in our lives. Like any good reader of romance knows, the iconic Happily Ever After takes a lot of grit and hard work to achieve.  We have to ask ourselves hard questions: What makes me happy? What do I want in my life? What doesn’t bring me pleasures? Seemingly simple questions, sure, but how often are we honest with ourselves about what we enjoy versus what society tells us we should be doing?

I also found that prioritizing simple pleasures allows me let go of the things that complicate or otherwise being negative energy to my life. During my year of buying, using, and wasting less, I found a direct correlation between moving too fast and being less mindful, less eco-conscious, less in-tune with myself. When I paused to indulge in simple pleasures, I was able to unplug from the frantic energy of our fast paced world. Same goes for toxic people situations. Learning what brings me joy helped me better understand what throws me out of whack.

Recently, I found myself in a social situation that I committed to not because I necessarily wanted to but because I thought I should be doing it. It seemed like a good idea, but my gut feeling was telling me it wasn’t my vibe. The energy was too groupie, too demanding on my time, and too draining. In the space of a week, I went from being happy and full of life, to tired, anxious, and without inspiration for my writing. Those feelings told me a lot. And in talking with loved ones, I was finally able to trace these feeling back to stepping into a zone that wasn’t right for me. Once I had that revelation, my energy returned. I felt happy again—albeit tired from this strange emotional journey. I could write again. I looked forward to my work day. And I felt joy in the littlest things. The energetic shift was shocking and made me realized how much I took my inner joy for granted. In reality, I had been so happy because I nourished the sacred art of pleasure and eschewed anything that didn’t enhance the quality of my life. It made me feel like I could do anything and everything—until I stepped into that dead zone and realized that wasn’t the case. My energy had been abundant because I cultivated abundance—and ruthlessly cut out anything from my life that didn’t enhance my overall wellness.

Lesson learned. Pleasure is an integral part of my day-to-day. It helps me understand why certain things make me anxious and unhappy—and that it is okay to let those things go in favor of radical joy. Now, I feel like I have to say that this isn’t about never having stereotypically “negative” feelings or never allowing yourself to engage with things that make you uncomfortable. Rather, this is about meaningfully allowing yourself to feel what you need to feel and listen to what those feelings are telling you. We find out a lot about ourselves from painful situations, true. But it is equally important to listen to what our pleasurable experiences have to teach us.

So how will I go about this year long exploration of sacred simple pleasures? I don’t have a set of rules to gauge how I indulge in this, mostly because I absolutely adore unstructured time and a lack of schedules when I’m not teaching. You could say it’s my number one sacred simple pleasure. I want to be open to synchronicity and spontaneity. Cooking and dreaming. Knitting and lolly-gagging.  Adventuring and magic-making.  I’ll only measure it by how nourished by soul feels. How balanced my life is.  How much magic I feel in the everyday. I’ll examine how slowly—intentionally—I’m living. How often I’m comfortable in asserting my needs and desires. How delicious each day tastes.

What simple pleasures are sacred to you? Why? Here’s to a year of cultivating pleasure! 

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

Magic is a Hard, Gritty Thing (Part II)

I asked for a new life. In return, I had to bury my seed so deep in the earth it kissed Hell.  It was important that this black disk holding the heart of a hollyhock be warmed by morningstars and forced to carve its way out of the darkness.  This, so that I could know the value of my transformation.

Now, I am uncomfortable with tight spaces and have trouble breathing in the dark, damp underground.  That is the price I paid for freedom.

I dreamed of a book once, too.  One with my name on it and my thoughts in it.  All the Universe expected in return was blood and heartache, time and tears, and that long stretch of purgatory where no one knew what I was doing--or cared--except for the emerging words on the page.  They knew.  They understood.  Felt the relief of stories so long contained finally spilling across naked sheets.

I'm about a pint of blood short now and so have less energy for things that don't understand that my heart is buried inside an herb garden, in a constant state of becoming. I get tired if I'm away from my stories for too long, worn out when I'm asked to ignore the poetry of a Monday or the grace of a slammed door. 

That was what the magic required of me to see my hope eternally bloom.  And I paid the price willingly.  That garden?  It has rosemary and words and ink and lavender in it--but no weeds and no room for nonsense.  I worked hard to make it so.  

I picked out each and every weed and each and every shade with my own hands until my fingernails were cracked and rimmed with black dirt and my hands were bloody from the nicks and scratches of angry ghosts that didn't want to leave such a cozy home.  I have a few crooked fingers now and a predisposition toward dry hands.  But no weeds.  No shades secretly living inside the sunflower's underbelly.  Just an abundant harvest to look forward to.

Magic is a hard thing and doesn't take wishes lightly.  This I know, which is why I hold up deleted pages and crossed-out passages like offerings for another manuscript, another birthing. These tattered narratives will never see the light of day.  They are the willing sacrifices for a better story.  I bind them up and surround them with twigs for kindling.  I press flame to their feet and watch the fire gobble them up because that is what the magic needs if I am to write something that is honest and potent.

Magic is a gritty thing, asking for you to give until it hurts.  That's the only way it knows you're serious and not just looking for a topical solution to soul sickness.  That kind of healing requires long journeys down dark roads and through the caves of memory until all your pains are excorcised and your hair smells vaguely of brimstone and forgetting. 

After all that, it lets you taste the first ripe peach of summer, speckled with morning dew.  Your tongue is coated in sunshine and hard-earned deliciousness.  Juice dribbles down your chin.  Your fingers are sticky with fuzz and nectar.  And in your hand is another hard seed waiting to be kissed by morningstars.

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

Magic Is a Hard, Gritty Thing (Part I)

With my book coming out in just a few short months, I’ve decided to write a few blog posts exploring the heart and soul of Everyday Enchantments, my writing life, and my life life: Everyday Magic. This is the term I use to explore the mysticism inherent in our daily lives, the sacred simple pleasures that heal the soul, and the radical self-care that keeps us vital.  

Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?

And it is.  But magic is also a hard, gritty thing.  It takes its own time and works in its own way.  You ask the Universe for something and it waits and watches and looks to see if you are, in fact, doing your part to make that desire come to fruition.  It asks for blood and sweat, time and tears, focus and energy.  So that when you ask for your Heart's Desire, the Universe first considers whether it is a wise wishing or an unhealthy infatuation.  In time, if it's the right thing for you, then the wish whispered on a dandelion head will make its way back to you.  Just as soon as it pleases and no sooner.

Let's face it, if magic were easy, more people would be doing it.

The hardest part about magic is that you have to let go of any notion that you can control all the variables in your life.  Surrender.  Listen to the Universe and your heart of hearts.  They will tell you where you need to go--and it's often not where you think you should be headed.  Magic is tricky that way.  Revealing its wisdom only when you're committed not to a specific outcome but to the art of learning yourself and the cosmic world around you.

It works kind of like this:  When you ask for light, you might expect fireworks to go off in the night sky immediately.  In reality, after hard labor, constant focus, and everyday conjuring, you get a small spark which you then nourish into a healthy fire to warm your home.  Still, you get the light, but in order not to take that conjuring for granted, you have to continue to work to keep it alive. 

Magic is a lot like self-care in that way.  When we taking about taking care of ourselves it’s often about pampering—lighting scented candles, sinking into bubble baths, taking afternoon naps.  Rarely do we talk about the hard work that goes into actual self-care, like waking up before sunrise to workout because that’s the only time you know you can realistically get it in, or swearing off processed sugar because you know that as good as it might taste, it’s no good for you.  Self-care is letting go of toxic situations and people regardless of what outsiders might think of your actions so that you can feel at peace.  It asks you to prioritize yourself without guilt in a world that sees that as a selfish act.  In short, self-care requires some serious adulting! 

As does magic.  You walk the fine line between infinite belief and hard labor.  As the common saying with writing goes, inspiration will never find you unless you're working.   Neither does magic.  It doesn't give anything away for free or shower you with unearned gifts.  There's always a price and the best magic, your own conjured magic, tastes all the better because it was birthed from your own sweat. 

So you plant your soul seeds and you tend them without rigid expectations.  Then one day those seeds sprout, blossom, ripen into delicious fruit if that is what is meant to happen.  Those that don't, find their purpose in feeding the worms in your compost bin.  But the fruit you do harvest is nothing short of divinity.  It tastes of your backyard, kissed by your sunlight.  Fed by your dirt and watered by your sweat.  It is summer in your mouth, the promise of eternal sweetness.

You get the idea. 

Magic is a hard, gritty, beautiful thing. 

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

Join Me for #TarotTuesdays

This time last year, I was finishing the final manuscript (minus several rounds of edits) of Everyday Enchantments. It marked the beginning fo the end of what had become a six-year project. What followed was a year of editing, blogging, and dreaming about my next writing projects. I could finally return to fiction, my first love, and explore everyday magic in a whole new way. I could also experiment with new writing forms, like the 55-word story format that I'm using for my new EcoErotica series on Instagram, which I kicked off with the piece Seeds. 

My next project came to me at the end of the school year in a synchronous flash involving the tarot, 55-word stories, and a conversation with the universe.  I love the tarot and have often wanted to learn more about it. My own tarot practice is fairly simple--a basic question, a shuffle of the deck, and a card chosen from the pack. I don't do the elaborate readings or the layouts. As much as I appreciated them, I'd rather leave them to the professional mystics. 

Much of the work I do, on the other hand, is dependent on synchronicity--those meaningful coincidences--and the daily routine that speaks to me through the deck. I have to keep it simple, otherwise, the cards won't speak to me.  Not even my magic will speak to me if I make life too complicated. Believe me, it's an ongoing, ever-evolving art-form for me to learn how to keep things simple!

Another integral part of tarot to me is storytelling...which leads me to the second synchronous event that me to my latest writing project: #TarotTeuesdays on Instagram. I was at my favorite herb store, thinking about how much I wanted to learn more about the most famous tarot deck, the Rider-Waite, and remembering the centuries-old tarot cards I saw at the Morgan Library a few years back when I visited New York. Then I saw it: A Radiant Rider-Waite tarot deck sitting almost out of eyesight on the top of the bookshelf I was perusing. 

It was a sign. Time to learn more about the tarot.  I bought the deck, saged it when I got home and spent the next week getting to know it by repeatedly shuffling through it and examining each card. I decided that I would develop my emerging love of the 55-word story, a fun exercise I often work on with my creative writing students, into a 78-word story for each of the cards in the tarot deck. 78 words for the 78 cards that make up the tarot.

My plan is to draw a new card every Tuesday and write a 78-word story based on its meaning and the synchronicity inherent in each draw of a card.  Although there is no official tarot deck, I'm using the Rider-Waite edition because it is considered one of the oldest and most popular decks. I use another type for my own personal use, which I automatically knew I didn't want to use for this writing project because they are so sacred to me. So I needed a new deck just for the purposes of writing and exploring.  I love that this is the radiant edition because, well, so much of what I write about is bringing light to dark places and nourishing the synchronicities that illuminate our path. This is a cheerful deck, a hopeful collection of cards perfectly in line with the type of magic I seek to conjure.

In short, I'll be writing weekly 78-word stories based on the tarot. I draw a new card every week and let it tell me its story. Look for #TarotTuesdays on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter to read them as they are posted each week.

Here's to new writing projects and the meaningful coniencedences that led me to them!

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

Sustainability as Spiritual Practice

This year, I’m focusing on building a more sustainable lifestyle by using, wasting, and buying less.  That said, I’ve actually been working on a more eco-friendly path over the past few years and have had a few revelations in the process. As someone who practices a nature-based spirituality, in particular, a cultivation of the divine feminine in all of us, I’ve found that actively become more sustainable is essential to healing the relationship between mother nature and human beings—and our relationship to ourselves.

Think about it: if it’s bad for nature, it’s bad for us.  I’ve come to think of mindless consumption and waste as akin to eating fast food, a substance of little to no nutritional value and made from low quality, dubious ingredients (I’m looking at you, pink slime!). Why would we put something like this into our bodies? It certainly doesn’t nourish us. And if it doesn’t nourish our bodies, it certainly won’t fuel or minds or spirits, all of which are interconnected.  There’s no soul to the food, just like there is no soul to thoughtless waste.

I’ve also found that when I’m most disconnected from myself—overworked, stressed, or around toxic people—I’m equally disconnected from nature and my own natural rhythms. Numbness sets in.  I forget to be mindful. I look to external things for soothing and replenishment, rather than inward.  I spend more money on things I don’t need. I consume more unnecessary products or ignore the wasteful packaging on others because I “really” need something, like takeout or a one-use beauty product, to sooth.

In reality, what I need is to disconnect from the soulless fast-paced lifestyle I’d inadvertently plugged into and reconnect with myself.  When I slow down, I’m better able to care for myself, mind, body, soul—and earth. I can tend my garden and turn my compost. I can relish shopping at my local co-op or farmers market. I can enjoy a healthy home-cooked meal. I can see how my yoga practices return my natural vibrancy better than any store-bought beauty product.  I can dream and hear my own voice. I can speak to the earth and listen to her stories. 

I feel full. Abundant. At one with myself. At one with nature. The deeper I go on this path, the more I remember that the mother nature is infinite in her wisdom. She reminds us not to deplete our valuable resources, both of the land and of the spirit, to cultivate what is healthy, omit what is destructive, and to listen to the natural cycle of our daily lives. 

In short, I’ve found that being eco-conscious is about being conscious. Period.

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

The Haunting

There was the wishing vessel.  Bold as the dawn, solid as earth.

Strange.  Its home was on your left side nightstand; its height measured out in the stack of paperbacks behind it; its radiance mirrored in the collection of raw stones and gems circling it.  Instead, you found it on the right-hand nightstand where your water glass should have been. You took this vessel in your hand--this vessel, hewn by your mother's hands, baked with the power of hope and sealed with a sea-blue glaze marbled with pebble brown streaks.

Stranger still: it felt heavier than it should as if weighed down by your bottled wishes. You held it in your hand a moment longer, wondering what occurred in those eternal moments between closing your eyes and waking.

Then that evening as you chopped vegetables for roasting, thinking about things that belong in other lifetimes (half-remembered thorns that only nip at your heels when you are tired), the lights flickered in and out of consciousness.  Of course, that would have meant nothing if it weren't for the misplaced wishing vessel and your keys, now no longer in the drawer where you know you'd left them.  Or the sudden chill that swept through your home, easy enough to blame on the draft forgotten after months under the gaze of the summer sun.

It wasn't until you drifted off to sleep, in fact, that you knew the truth of the situation: you were no longer alone in your own home.  You felt the ghost brush cool, soft fingers along your naked back and settle in next to you as you hovered between dream and wakefulness.  Then there was your whispered name the next day as you tended your garden, sounding nothing so much as dried leaves rustling in the wind.  And the wishing vessel again misplaced, perching precariously on your bookshelf, so much heavier this time as you carried it back to its rightful post. The faint scent of memory and wet dirt began to permeate your home. Yes, you had a ghost, a living, breathing ghost contained within your walls.

Each day the specter became more and more distinct, once a faint shadow hovering just beyond sight, now a thick presence that didn't feel the need to hide any longer.  It patched a form together from stray bits of thread, used tea leaves, and lint from the bottom of your laundry basket.  The smell of mulched garden debris and damp earth became stronger each day, strongest of all at night when the darkness could feed it.

But you grew tired of its presence. You grew tired of never finding your keys where you always put them.  Tired of hands, now with the feel of knobby sticks for fingers, pressed against your back before sleep took you.  Tired of never knowing where your wishing vessel might turn up--and when you found it half buried next to your rosemary, as if a seed waiting to sprout the hopes buried inside it, you reached your limit. 

It took so long to dig out that heavy, heavy vessel.  Longer still to drag it in from the rain.  The ghost was no help; it merely watched you puff and pant and try to set things right.  This had to stop.  You wanted your home to be yours again.

So you did the only thing you could: you brought another spirit into the conversation--one holier, more honest even, than you or your spectral companion: whiskey.  You poured a glass for you and your phantom guest, now bearing the faint outline of a person, smelling of moss and old books and the inside of a wishing vessel.

"So how is it you found me?" You asked the specter sitting across from you at the kitchen table.

"I found a blossom of indecision, a wrinkle of silence and traveled down the puckered road of an old scar."  Its voice was like crackling leaves and smoke. 

A gulp of whiskey was your response.  You drank in companionable silence for some time as you mulled over its words.  The rain beat out a tattoo on the window pane.  The shadows in the room grew longer in time with the setting day.

"And where did you find this blossom, this wrinkle, this scar?"

It gestured to your curled up palm.  You opened it and saw several little half-moons carved into its surface.  What had you been holding on to so hard? So tightly? 

As if in answer to your soundless question, the wishing vessel now sat between you on the table, still caked in dirt.  The table creaked under its weight.  There was your collection of unspoken wishes, your barely-acknowledged hopes like lead dandelion puffs.

"It's the voice that does it," your specter explained. "Just the sound of your lips and tongue wrapped around one of those dandelion heads." 

What would it hurt, you thought, to give voice to all those dreams you'd stashed away for so long? What would it take to breathe life into the many roots and veins you'd allowed to go dormant? What would it cost you to loosen your grip on those fragile seeds you have guarded and protected and stashed away for a rainy day, much like this one?

"They are stronger than you think," the ghost again replied to your unvoiced thoughts.

You brushed the dirt from the vessel and dragged it toward you.  You held it between your hands--gently this time--as if it were a butterfly flitting through your laced fingers.

Perhaps just one.  There is no harm in allowing one stray seed to breathe and bloom.  You named it, this wish, to yourself. To your ghost. To this vessel that had held it for so long. You felt it being released into the air around you like a cloud of sandalwood perfume or the flap of wings.  Your skin tingled with this unblemished possibility permeating the air around you, and you closed your eyes to savor this new-found lightness.

When you opened them, the ghost was gone, and with it the smell of dead things.  There were only the two whiskey glasses and the vessel (so much lighter now) left, along with a stray blue thread that once held the specter together.  The other wishes slipped more easily from your lips after that, the hopes too.  You felt only sweet release, the joy of freeing these pods into a life you dared to think possible. 

Your home was your home again. Your wishing vessel was once more what it should be: a womb, not a stopped bottle, fertilized by syllables slipping from your vocal chords.  And the air was thick with dandelion seeds.

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

On Living Your Creed

It is not always enough to believe--you must live it every day.

You must find your home in its embrace; however strange it may seem to others, however difficult it may be, you must turn away from other outstretched arms, seductive folds that would gather you into the temporary ease of all-inclusiveness.  Yes, this collective energy can momentarily assuage the wear and tear of walking your own path but ultimately stifles you with the price you must pay for this comfort: silence.  Only your voice, that seed of sound and breath, the song of who you are, the breeze that allows your wings to unfurl.

But you cannot turn your back on your creed.  The one made up of lessons learned the hard way and a future paved by dreams and flashes of inspiration and--sometimes--past lives, those tatters of ghostly tendrils that snake their way through the cracks in the earth beneath your feet.  It is yours and yours alone.

If you know each seed you plant will blossom, you must sow wisely.  If you know each thought is a thread coloring the tapestry of your life, you must think carefully.  If you know that your lungs need fresh air and open space to fill them up, you must find a land without fences in which to breathe deeply.  If you know that only you can create your future, you must wake every morning to pave the next row of stones that carve out your path.  If you know your life is made up of conversations with the universe, you must speak with the cosmos often, shout out to it, sing to it, and listen to its response even if no one else can understand or hear the exchange.  They see only dust, where you see stars.

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!

On Dia de Los Muertos

The boundaries between worlds have thinned at this halfway point between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice.  It is as if a small door has opened and allowed spirits and old ghosts and mischief makers full access to our neighborhood.

You leave out offerings, a welcome treat to your ancestors, whose guidance you are grateful for; and gifts to pacify the demons and fairies so that you won't bear the brunt of their trouble making.  You leave out candles to welcome old souls searching for their home--family maybe, or lost pieces of yourself you seek to reclaim and call to you once again.

You celebrate this connection to the spirit world with sugar skulls and marigolds, unafraid of the night and the creatures it hides; they are a part of us, a part of you. You honor the Aztec goddess of the underworld, paying homage to her strength that allows her to watch over the bones and souls of the dead. 

You offer up your flowers, your food, your drink, to thank her for gathering up the pieces of yourself that you no longer need, taking them with her back to the underworld; you thank her too for restoring the parts of you that still live on, though you hadn't known it until this day.  You celebrate the dead to honor the power of life.

Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational blog celebrating life’s simple pleasures, everyday mysticism, and delectable recipes that are guaranteed to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe to my newsletter below for regular doses of enchantment. Want even more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. Here’s to a magical life!