Taken from my old book – this I wish to keep, so into the new book they go. My current book I created to reflect the influence of the traditional training I’ve had the privilege of receiving these past two years. Some things I grew away from, many, in fact. That’s what time does. My coven’s quarter guardians differ from mine, and are oathbound, but my personal practice has become a wonderful amalgamation of things that makes my heart sing of truth.
I got a lot done tonight. I wrote of Saturn in the 12 houses, her zodiac signs, angels, demons, and spirits, tarot cards, and geomantic figures. All the information I’ve received from my elders in the past few months and my own upg. I let Capricorn and Aquarius whisper in my ear, and thus my work was practical, yet flavored with flights of fancy. This is my divination book, which I titled this evening, The Fool’s Journey, below which I scrawled a plea to Elephant to guide me in wisdom and memory, strength and resilience, power and love. For the moment I feel I have a handle on things, and I’m ready to move on to our study of Jupiter.
I also spent time with my book of shadows, adding notes on the cards and a page about the four sons of Heru, and the divine Ladies who keep the canopic jars and the directions. Though I cannot find a consensus as to the elements and directions these beings rule, and our geography differs greatly from where they originate, my intuition tells me they approve of our arrangement, so I am happy.
I feel the need to make a page for my tools next.
The athame is air, to know. To know your path, to take it and form it. Thus it forms for you the circle, sigils, and other such thought forms.
The wand is fire, to will. To know your true will is to know your desire. Thus the wand invokes what you desire, as it beckons the spirits and gods like a torch cutting through the darkness, warming and welcoming in its light.
The cup is water, to dare. To take what you truly desire, to have that sort of love for yourself, is one of the main things I feel sets us apart. Witches don’t have room for original sin. We are fallen yes, and yet we are holy, beautiful, powerful, and loved. We are not God’s mistake. We brazenly drink it in, in wine, water, and potions.
The paten is earth, to keep silent. To simply be. This is the place, the culmination of the others, where the magick is made. This is the place of manifestation, the place where we, as the divine beings we are, create. The center of power for the microcosm of our altars, awash in candlelight and ecstasy.
I went to the grocery store on the south side, where I can always count on finding seven day candles (and a great selection of herbs) thanks to our Mexican Catholic population. The cashier asked if they were scented, and remarked that she sure did sell a lot of those funny jar candles. I failed to enlighten her. So now I have elemental candles in addition to my more natural representions (a shell, stone, pinecone, and gold ring) and my four canopic jars.
And there’s a snakeskin my son’s pet shared with me – thanks, Waldo. Since I’ve just undergone my last microneedling treatment in order to improve the acne scarring on my face, and I will soon literally be shedding my skin, this will be helpful in a working to help that along. (Think the scene from The Craft, where Bonnie chants, “take my scars, take my scars.”)
Not pictured is the letter I’m about to write to the angel of Jupiter, on this, Jupiter’s blessed day, asking for help in healing.
Lovely additions to my altar, all.