Enchantment Learning & Living Blog

Welcome to Enchantment Learning & Living, the inspirational space where I write about the simple pleasures, radical self-care, and everyday magic that make life delicious.

Let’s Get Spooky!

This post originally appeared in my October 2024 newsletter.

As I sit here writing this, it is a cozy fall evening, perhaps one of the first truly chilly nights of the season. The wind whistles and scatters dried red, yellow, and orange leaves, and shadows grow longer under the fading light.

Inside?

Autumn twinkle lights offer a soft glow to write by while old black-and-white horror movies play in the background. Whisigothic decor (and some Halloween decorations too!) fills my home with a sense of magic. The kettle whistles in the kitchen, and a lazy pumpkin-spice cloud wafts from my jack-o-lantern mug. And two sleek black cats snooze nearby.

Readers, we are the picture of spooky autumnal coziness.

That, however, was not the case just a few nights ago when I decided to go to my first haunted house. You see, I had been feeling brave. I’d spent the last few years watching iconic horror movies each October, finding again and again that they were never as scary as I’d imagined them to be. I’d been reading horror books, too, and enjoyed every minute of it. In fact, I found that the idea of these stories was often scarier to me than the actual story. While these terrible tales could be creepy or chilling or even downright terrifying, I always made my way through them all the better for having read or watched them.

All this to say that I felt VERY proud of myself for facing the things that once scared me and realizing that they weren’t all that scary. In fact, I was feeling downright smug about it!

Too smug, as it turned out.

It was with this deep sense of what I now know was overconfidence that I decided to try my first haunted house. I was offered free tickets, after all, and had a sister who was willing to brave the unknown with me.

The Universe was providing me with an opportunity to try something that might have been too much for me Once Upon a Time. I wasn’t such a big old scaredy cat anymore. Sure, the promo images for the event looked chilling, but I’d seen scarier images in some of the movies I’d watched. And I knew it wasn’t real, so…

How bad could it be?

Spoken like the protagonist in a horror movie right before she promises to spend the night in a haunted house. Nothing bad will happen if you stay in an old home that only a bunch of superstitious townsfolk think is haunted, right? The one where a bunch of people fifty years ago disappeared under mysterious circumstances, their bodies never found, right?!?! RIGHT?!?!?!?!

At any rate, I couldn’t back out after I invited my sister and told everyone I was going. I have a goth reputation to uphold, after all. Like any traumatic experience, much of it is now a blur. What I can tell you about that harrowing event was that a certain amount of (liquid) courage was required to enter that haunted house. But enter we did, into the swirling fog, where all manner of things lurked in the shadows.

There were screams (mine). Dark maze-like corridors to navigate. Panic (also mine). Ghosts and ghouls and all sorts of monsters to run from. Believe me when I tell you it was not for the faint of heart!

I learned something about myself that night: I AM STILL A SCAREDY CAT.

But I also can’t help myself. I will always be drawn to the gothic, the unknown, and terrifying things that go bump in the night. And that’s okay. Healthy, even.

After we made it through the terrifying haunted house and ran to the safety of the well-lit street, my sister and I both felt strangely cleansed. Okay, our hearts were still racing, and we were out of breath from dodging monsters and running through torture chambers. But we were also relaxed.

There was the rush of having faced something we’d both built up in our heads (hence the liquid courage), doing the thing that scared us, and coming out the other side (mostly) intact.

We survived!

It was truly a terrible delight to be frightened out of our wits and then leave it all at the door of the haunted house. There, in the moonlight and crisp air, was a fresh start and a clear mind.

That feeling is what makes me venture deeper into the world of horror, even as I am, and always will be, a scaredy cat. There’s something incredibly empowering about looking at the things that scare you—especially the ones that have followed you since childhood—and laying them to rest. They may never stop scaring you, but at least you know, when old ghosts stir in the night, you can face them and be the better for bringing them into the light.

That’s the power of horror stories: They shock us! They terrify us! They make us face our fears so we can put things into perspective, heal what needs to be healed, and exorcise the demons and spirits that have tried to hold us captive.

That’s the beauty of spooky season. It makes us eager to look at the things we normally confine to the shadows of our minds the rest of the year. Now, in the cozy warmth of my home, a large pumpkin on the kitchen table waiting to be carved, I feel brave again. Brave enough to consider going through that haunted house again next year.

Maybe.

As a special treat, in honor of spooky season, I’m offering up free copies of Hungry Business and Weep, Woman, Weep through Dia de Los Muertos. May they bring you chills, thrills, and delightful exorcisms!

Image of a dark and stormy night with a haunted house in the foreground.

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!

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Summer Monsoons & Gothic Romances

This post originally appeared in my July/August 2024 newsletter.

You know you’re a desert woman when you get inordinately excited about thick clouds rolling across the sky on a late summer’s day, promising rain and blessed relief from the blistering heat of the day. Is there anything more exciting than thunder and lightning serenading you to sleep?

We’ve had better monsoons this season than in years past, which fills me (and my garden) with gratitude. I can see the clouds rolling in over the Sandia mountains as I write this. They are dark and heavy, which always means rain—and sometimes rainbows. 

I love the rains, you see, not just because they give the land much-needed moisture and make our desert summers more bearable, but because these storms provide the perfect symphony for one of my favorite pastimes: reading gothic novels late into the night. 

There’s nothing more satisfying than curling up in bed with a gothic romance while the window panes rattle, the thunder rumbles, and lightning flashes. The rain outside mirrors the angst on the page, which is fitting, given how often these pulpy tales rely on the pathetic fallacy to highlight the inner turmoil of their characters.

It’s always been cathartic to read books about darker aspects of human nature and all the difficult things Polite Society does not want to discuss or express. That’s what gothic romances do—they pop out heightened emotions, shine a light on things lurking in the dark corners of our minds and homes, and remind us that for all our belief that we are rational, enlightened beings, we are also ruled by desire, emotions, the mystic, and a myriad of other unseen forces that propel us forward in our lives. Juicy stuff!

I’ve been enjoying diving into Phyllis A. Whitney lately. Often considered the mother of American gothic romance, she actually prefers the term “romantic suspense.” Still, the works I’ve read so far have each had a decidedly supernatural twist in one way or another, so it’s hard not to think of her as a gothic writer. The reading is all the more enjoyable because I’ve collected quite a stash of her older paperbacks. The ones with the lurid covers, naturally. Those covers somehow make the stories better.

As I savor these books while the rain and wind sing their wild song outside my door, I feel a deep connection to humanity, to the parts of us that are always striving, longing, and searching for more. A good gothic novel, ideally read during a dark and stormy night, reminds us that the world is full of strange and wonderful things and that even the most mundane of settings—domesticity—can be full of intrigue and passion.

They serve as a promise that even if our lives seem utterly ordinary, there is always an interesting plot to follow if we tune into the magic all around us. At the very least, the make us appreciate a good storm!

Image of a gathering storm.

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!

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Weep, Woman, Weep eBook Release!

I am beyond excited to share my latest ebook release! Weep, Woman, Weep, available for only $2.99, is the first of many stories set in the mythical town of Sueño, New Mexico, where magic is real and the desert holds more secrets and enchantments than anyone can imagine.

This gothic fairytale, based on the Legend of La Llorona, has a special place in my heart because it not only represents my full transition into writing fiction but also because it deals with the Weeping Woman, a figure who installs fear in the hearts of most Hispanic and Latinx children. (Don’t worry, I haven’t left non-fiction behind—I’m just now more established in fiction as well!) I grew up hearing frightening tales of the woman who drowned her children in a fit of rage and then threw herself into the Rio Grande after them once she realized what a terrible crime she committed. It is said that she now roams the riverbanks weeping and looking for her lost children. Of course, the danger is when she mistakes you for one of her children and takes you down to the bottom of the river with her. Needless to say, she inspired many a sleepless night when I was younger—okay, and sometimes now!

There are so many different versions of the Weeping Woman legend, some dating back to the Aztecs and early colonization of Mexico, which you can read more about here. These are stories about the trauma of colonization, toxic patriarchy, and toxic matriarchy. Some are even about reclaiming our pre-colonized identities by framing La Llorona as a victim trying to make things right in her own way.

As you’ll see in Weep, Woman, Weep, I’ve offered my own spin on the classic urban legend. In my story, La Llorona isn’t quite so sympathetic, even if we can understand the terrible circumstances that lead her to her doom. As Mercy, the heroine of the story says, you can’t always help what happens to you, but you can choose not to pass it on. It’s the passing on of trauma that makes La Llorona a dark archetype. In my experience, there’s a twisted part of this spirit that doesn’t want anyone moving on from the violence of our collective past. She has suffered terribly, so we must suffer, too.

All I’m saying is that the night before I made this book available for preorder, I had a terrible nightmare about La Llorona. She came out of a dark swamp in the middle of a haunted forest and tried to rip me to pieces. It was clear she didn’t want me telling this story and exposing her for the bitter spirit that she is. She clawed and raged and did everything she could to rid this manuscript from my hands. In all honesty, I’m used to dreams like this—she’s been haunting me for some time. And she gets particularly angry whenever I’m doing something that brings me joy and helps me heal my own complicated relationship with my mixed-cultural heritage.

I woke up in a cold sweat but felt strangely good. La Llorona didn’t like that I dragged this dark ancestral secret into the light, so…I must be on the right track. But that’s bruja life for you—so much happing in the dream world, so much of it affecting our day-in, day-out. Just another day of breaking the chains of ancestral trauma.

Weep, Woman, Weep is particularly unique because it centers on the New Mexican mestiza experience of ancestral hauntings and the working through of toxic cultural histories. In my experience, if we don’t directly confront the traumas of our ancestral past, then we end up perpetuating those same traumas on ourselves and our communities, sometimes in ways so subtle that we are barely even aware that we are doing it. But, since this is a gothic tale, these horrors aren't so subtle.

If you are interested in learning more about ancestral hauntings and breaking the chains of generational trauma, check out my conversation with That Witch Life. And if you’re wanting to know more about my other fiction, as well as my creative process when it comes to writing stories about the ordinary gothic, check out my interview with C.M. Rosens on the Eldritch Girl podcast earlier in the year.

In the meantime, pour yourself a cup of tea, snuggle under your favorite knit blanket, and get ready to enter a world of everyday magic and the ordinary gothic. Just make sure to keep the lights on.

Advance Praise

"This is a beautifully written, affirming and emotionally rich sort of story...There’s a lot of emotional truth here, and I think anyone who has ever struggled to find their place in the world will find it a resonant read."

~ Nimue Brown (read the full review here)

“If like me you’re a fan of the unusual or gothic and haunting reads this is one to try. With a strong voice, atmospheric creepiness and powerful storytelling, it’s one to enjoy as the nights draw in and we head towards my one of my favourite times of year, Halloween.”

~ Kate Kenzie Writes (read the full review here)

Read more reviews on Goodreads and Amazon!

From the Back Cover

A compelling gothic fairytale by bruja and award-winning writer Maria DeBlassie.

The women of Sueño, New Mexico don’t know how to live a life without sorrows. That’s La Llorona’s doing. She roams the waterways looking for the next generation of girls to baptize, filling them with more tears than any woman should have to hold. And there’s not much they can do about the Weeping Woman except to avoid walking along the riverbank at night and to try to keep their sadness in check. That’s what attracts her to them: the pain and heartache that gets passed down from one generation of women to the next.

Mercy knows this, probably better than anyone. She lost her best friend to La Llorona and almost found a watery grave herself. But she survived. Only she didn’t come back quite right and she knows La Llorona won’t be satisfied until she drags the one soul that got away back to the bottom of the river.

In a battle for her life, Mercy fights to break the chains of generational trauma and reclaim her soul free from ancestral hauntings by turning to the only things that she knows can save her: plant medicine, pulp books, and the promise of a love so strong not even La Llorona can stop it from happening. What unfolds is a stunning tale of one woman’s journey into magic, healing, and rebirth.

CW: assault, domestic violence, racism, colorism

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!

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Reading Holiday Ghost Stories...with a Christmas Spirit Chaser

Okay, okay, so November is usually the month I celebrate the sacred simple pleasure of reading and all-around cozy living with food and drink pairings to accompany of few hours spent with books….but then the month got away from me, so this year’s musings are a teensy bit later than usual. But that’s what happens when you’re enjoying life and readings so many wonderful books!

I might be a month late on this post, but the contents are in perfect accord with the spirit of the season! This year, I’m writing about ghost stories and scary tales that help us face our fears and confront the dark side of humanity. Why? We can’t have light without facing the darkness. That’s the price of magic.

The Tradition of Reading Ghost Stories at Christmas

Last year, I read about the old tradition of tellings ghost stories on Christmas Eve and, in fact, all Christmas season. I love the idea, especially since my heart always longs for the chills and thrills that only seem acceptable to celebrate during Halloween season, which, in all honesty, I try to stretch out as long as possible. You’ve heard of Christmas in July? Well, for me, Gothic season is September through November. Now, thanks to learning about this old storytelling tradition, I can celebrate all things spooky through December too.

To me, the nights of Autumn Equinox that then ripen into the Winter Solstice are prime times to sink into the magic and catharsis of the darker side of life. Seriously, is there anything cozier than immersing yourself in a spooky story on a cold, dark night with only the firelight to keep you warm and hold the darkness at bay? Be still my pagan heart! And yeah, full disclosure, I also spend a good part of spring and summer reading spooky stories because that’s just who I am. Give me a good summer monsoon with thunder and lightning to read Gothic romances by and I am a happy woman. All the same, there’s still something deliciously cozy about reading supernatural tales in the heart of winter.

Ghost Stories to Read by Firelight—& Twinkle Lights

When the semester is done and my home is bursting with twinkle lights and a festive tree that can only be described as “Christmas explosion,” I enjoy taking an afternoon to read by twinkle lights or firelight—or both! I put on a pot of tea, snuggle under one of my knit blankets on the couch, and sink into the healing power of stories.

Prior to learning about the Christmas tradition of reading ghost stories, I’d come to save my subscription of Occult Detective Quarterly for a quiet winter’s day when I could enjoy the variety of chills and thrills it always offers. There’s nothing like a good ghost story—unless you throw in a good paranormal investigator to guide you through the realm of the unknown. In the same vein, I cannot wait to dive into Ghostly Clients and Demonic Culprits: The Roots of Occult Detective Fiction.

If you’re wanting a more traditional read such as Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, try The Valancourt Book of Victorian Christmas Ghost Stories or, if you aren’t particular about Christmas- supernatural tales, Ghostly Tales: Spine-Chilling Stories of the Victorian Age. They are both fantastic collections of some of the most iconic ghost stories and Gothic writers. There are too many ghost story anthologies that I love to name them all, so check out my teaser photo below of the Christmas Spirit for a few more book recommendations.

As much as I love reading, sometimes, after a long term of grading papers, my eyes hurt and I literally can’t take in the written word. That’s why I am so completely grateful for audiobooks and podcasts. My current spooky favorite is On a Dark, Cold Night, a podcast that features the original work, both in writing and music, of Kristen Zaza. It’s eerily beautiful! Want something a little over-the-top? Try Relic Radio’s The Horror, a podcast dedicated to old-time radio performances of classic scary stories. Both are perfect for a quiet night at home or a laid back holiday crafting day.

The Christmas Spirit…Cocktail

So you’ve got your stash of scary stories. You’ve got your twinkle lights and a crackling fire. You have a knit blanket and a cozy spot to tuck into. You might even have the perfect pair of pajamas to dawn and a black cat familiar to snuggle close for when your story gets a little too scary…okay, maybe that last part is about me. I do love a good ghost story, but I am also easily scared. What can I say? I’m a conundrum. A conundrum with a black cat to hold my hand through the darker parts of a story, luckily. In fact, the only thing that would make this scene anymore perfect would be a holiday drink to console, comfort, and fortify as you turn the next page. So what’s a bruja to do?

Last year, I wrote about one of my absolute favorite genres, all things Occult Detective, and whipped up a cocktail for it. Let’s face it, monster hunters are less tea and sympathy and cakes and more fire and brimstone with a whiskey back. This season of ghosts stories seems equally in need of a fortifying drink. I knew it needed to be something that conjured the warmth of the fireside with the enjoyable chills and thrills of a well-told Gothic tale. The plan was to call it The Ghost Story, but it didn’t quite evoke the comfort and warmth of telling supernatural stories during the holidays, something altogether more comforting and soothing, I’m finding, than the reading them during Halloween season. No, what we needed was a little festive flare.

Enter The Christmas Spirit. Yeah, I went there! And let me tell you, this drink tops anything Hallmark can do. It’s all the pagan festivity without the saccharine overdose of CHRISTmas. It’s warming, spicy, with a little kick at the end that makes us appreciate the twists and turns of a well-told tale. I used an orange liquor (see below) that was orange-peel forward, so as to get the pop of bright holiday flavor, minus overly-sweet taste of more traditional orange flavoring. I added some cherry bitters to round out the sense of a cozy winter’s evening at home, and conjure the pleasure of rich Christmas ‘s fruity flavors. Then the dash of smoked chili bitters to evoke the sharp catharsis of a dark story’s end. Add ice and you’ve got the makings of a perfect ghost-story chaser. All you need is bourbon to round things out. It’s enough to warm your heart, comfort your soul, and brace you for the inevitable spine-tingling goodness that is a good ghost story.

If a glass of courage isn’t your cup of tea, then consider trying…well…a cup of tea. Try the smokey lapsang souchong (my perennial favorite) for an afternoon of reading or a cup of mint chocolate rooibos for a mellow evening’s storytelling—both of which can be found at NM Tea Co. And if you need a little something more to get you through that next page, read on for how to make The Christmas Spirit.

Ingredients:

2 oz. bourbon

.75 oz orange liquor, preferably one with an orange peel-forward flavor

5 drops cherry bitters

1-2 drops smoked chili bitters

ice

maraschino cherry and orange peel for garnish (optional)

Directions:

Combine all liquid ingredients in a tumbler glass and stir. Add ice and stir again. Garish with cherry and orange peel. Makes one, so whip up a few more: one for someone to cuddle with as you read your stories and another for any friendly spectral visitors who happen by (the unfriendly ones can just move along). Enjoy!

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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!

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The Ghosts We Carry...& How to Banish Them

Have you ever noticed how in haunted house stories or an occult detective tale, there’s always an object that keeps a spirit anchored to a place? It could be a keepsake from when the ghost was a living being or a terrible artifact use to summon darker entities. Sometimes it’s a whole room or house, the energy of the people who have lived in it soaking into the very walls. Other times it’s the memory of a horrific incident that has bled into the earth.

In order to banish the ghost, of course, we have to destroy the object—set it on fire, break it, or, to be less dramatic, let it go or move on from it. Move out of the haunted house. Contain the dark occult artifact that can’t be destroyed so that no one will find it (until the inevitable sequel, of course….this is dramatic fiction after all!). These stories remind us, in one way or another, that the things we carry with us absorb the energy of our experiences. And that, sometimes, the only way we can move forward is to let those objects go. Otherwise, we keep that old energy—sometimes toxic energy—around and get stuck, finding ourselves in a time loop of the same draining experiences that first tainted the objects in question.

The Ghosts We Carry

Take, for instance, the story of The Sad Birthday Dress. It goes like this: There once was a woman who wanted to feel beautiful. All day long she was asked to be nothing but a talking head. But this woman knew she had a heart and hips and a juicy center. So she bought herself a dress to remind herself that she could be a whole person and not just a shriveled head sitting in someone’s cabinet of curiosities. And what a dress it was! It was stunning, with finely spun organic lilac cotton and loud bouncy yellow and white polka dots that told her that she was allowed to have color in her life—that she was allowed to be of color, no need to pass as another kind of pale specter. The skirt was flouncy and feminine and begged to be flipped up for illicit romance or at least a lively dance.

It was the perfect birthday dress. So she did what any woman who wanted to feel alive did—she wore it out and ate cake and drank champagne and danced until the weight of the pale city bore down on her and her loud pretty dress didn’t make her feel pretty anymore. Just sad. Unspeakably so. Because, she realized, this dress didn’t make her feel pretty. It only reminded her that she lived in a place that didn’t want her to be a flesh and blood woman. A city that was uncomfortable with her long wild hair and her rounded hips and the way the bodice of her dress clung to her breasts. She knew shame in that dress. And a sadness that welled up inside her until it became heartbreak. That heartbreak spread from her body and into the dress as surely as the bubbly drink had spread through her body only moments before.

The woman learned a hard lesson that night: A dress couldn’t fix a city that treated her like a brown stain on a white shirt. And cake couldn’t disguise the fact that there was no sweetness for her there. Only loneliness and a bone-deep cold. The solution was to leave in search of warmer hands and beating hearts.

Eventually, the dress came off. But the heartbreak stayed. And every time the woman tried to wear her I Am Beautiful Dress, she inevitably took it off and rehung in her closet, until one day she stopped trying to wear it all together. It moved to the back of her closet, limp and half-forgotten, like a mediocre date or half-baked wish. It was no longer her I Am Beautiful Dress. It was stained with the experience of that night, which is how it became The Sad Birthday Dress.

Years later, when the woman had figured how to be a breathing, living woman and not someone else’s curiosity, she pulled the dress from her closet and her heart broke all over again. She knew there was no reclaiming the original power of the beautiful bouncy fabric. Of cake and champagne and moonlight. In the dress, she saw the pain of her past welling up inside of her. Its presence was like a ghost reminding her of all the broken things she could never fix. Of the hopeless realization that the thing she wanted—thought she wanted—wasn’t for her and, in fact, had never existed at all. She had been chasing phantoms and, in the process, almost become one herself.

So she packed it up and gave it away in the hopes that it might become what it was meant to be—that I Am Beautiful Dress—for someone else who was ready to pay the price to reclaim that joy in the way she hadn’t been when she had first purchased it. The weight of that terrible time lifted from her shoulders and the energy in her home felt lighter.

Now the woman has a closet full of I Am Beautiful Dresses. They are loud. And they sparkle. And they have hems ready to be tossed above the knee for dancing and more dancing and things that would make you blush for me to write. And they all radiate joy. All because she let go of the thing that was holding her back. All because she chose to feel the pain of the past and let it go. All because she chose to be a loud woman with a beating heart in a sun-kissed land and not a phantom shade.

Banishing Ghosts

Lovely little story, isn’t it? And it’s all true. I once had an I Am Beautiful Dress that became The Sad Birthday Dress. And when I gave it away, I was giving myself permission to be more than that sad story. I could learn from my past and create space for joy in my present. The truth is, we all have a proverbial Sad Birthday Dress or something that was once a profound piece of armor in our lives that became stained by experience. Other times, we change—becoming someone that certain objects no longer feel attached to, can no longer nourish. And in order to keep growing, transforming, evolving, we must let them go. If we don’t, what once was beautiful or nourishing becomes toxic. The spirit that won’t move on becomes the ghost that terrorizes the living.

Having recently completed a massive house cleansing—saying goodbye to old ghosts and old selves—I found myself thinking about one of my pieces from Everyday Enchantments, “Letting Go of Past Lives, “ about the things you hold on to even when you are ready to let go of the person you used to be. It can be scary to let go of the past because, as stagnant as it can make us, it’s also familiar and comforting. That’s why we hold on to so much unnecessary stuff. It keeps us feeling safe—but it also keeps us stuck. In the end, it’s better to let go and know that you are creating space for new, positive vibes to enter your life (but not necessarily more stuff!).

The first part of banishing ghosts or old selves? Let go of the objects they are attached to. Say goodbye to things that don’t bring you joy or that you haven’t used in over a year. Be conscious of the energy you want in your home and life. Then be ruthless about protecting it—get rid of anything that doesn’t contribute to your overall sense of well-being. Ghosts hide behind sentiment and guilt to keep you trapped under their spell. Low-level spirits are a lot like low-level people: They want you to feel as trapped and miserable as they are, so they’ll do anything to stay in your life. Best to see them for what they are and move on.

The second part of ghostbusting? Let go of the troubling energy you’ve been holding onto psychically. That last one will take a little more time, but letting go of the object that keeps constellating that energy will go a long way to dispersing its psychic impact. Give yourself permission to heal and move on from sad or seemingly unfinished histories.

The rest will follow.

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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!

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