just another flawed creation

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“Write a short post about how you got into witchcraft.“

Wow, it was so long ago ;) The first steps began thanks to a friend at high school who was interested in crystal magick, atlantean mysteries and power rods. He shared some books with me which piqued my interest, but being raised Christian meant I found it very hard to read without dread or fear of being “wrong”.

It was my first year of University that things got interesting. I swore for the first time (singing along to Alanis Morissette songs if I’m to be honest) and I started reading about the occult in earnest, and spending semester breaks with those with more experience (and books) than I. A plethora of books were available at the University & public libraries, but it was private collections that were the most rewarding.

I have never thought of it at any stage as rebellion, simply as enlightenment. The more I learn, the stronger and more refined my beliefs become, not the weakened and questionable that so many fear. I think it was a book by Eliphas Levi that finally drove the final nail home - it was an account of the missing years of Christ, his adolescence and early adult years, where he travelled out of Israel learning and mastering all the different religions he could find, and ultimately returned with the Two Laws to replace the Ten Commandments. This spoke to me on a deep level, that in order to Know The Truth, one must not limit themselves to just one source.

So, I set out to learn everything I could, and Secular Witchcraft was the best base to work on that allowed me to absorb all this information without bias or conflict.

Before we begin, please remember that any spells that require cat’s whiskers should not mean you cut them off our furry little familiars. Keep an eye on their sleeping spaces, they tend to come out from time to time.

Also, be sure you want this - while not as severe as, say, the toad-witch amulet, it can be quite an unsettling experience to view the Unseen around you in your everyday life.

Fill a black bag (preferably hemp) with the following ingredients, and tie closed with a red string:

3 apple seeds

3 bluebell flowers

whiskers from a black cat

garlic husks

wormwood

rosemary

eyebright (aka euphrasia)

Recite the following:

“Hair of the cat, seeds, and eyebright; I call on you for spirit-sight. Garlic, wormwood, bluebell flowers; I ask you to enhance these powers. Rosemary, and string and charm; Protect me from possible harm.”

This is also just as valid for a “book of shadows”.

As mentioned in a reply I made earlier today, my personal belief is that practicality and usability is far more important than aesthetics.

That is not to say you can’t make it look cool in the process, but there is nothing more frustrating than trying to read cursive on a tea-washed page by candlelight, no matter how good your eyesight.

You’re also allowed more than one!

I have a grimoire full of spells & rituals, I have a liber spirituum which contain all my notes, drawings and conversations for the spirits I work with, I have a journal for my dreams and pathworking, and I have a digital correspondences book that I use for all my tables, charts and reference materials - simply because it auto indexes and generates page numbers whenever anything changes (that and footnotes/endnotes!)

It is uniquely yours, and should reflect you in it. It is an extension of you, one of your tools, just like your wand or athame. It will store your magical energy for use when you need it, just like your athame, and it can channel and focus your energy, just like your wand. If you complicate things, and make it frustrating to use, this will only muddle its ability to assist you, on so many levels.

It will also be fluid - throughout your journey on the Path/in the Craft, your beliefs, spells and perception of the world will change, and you’ll have to change your grimoire to suit it - if you bind your grimoire yourself, either coil, ringbinder or scrapbooking album, it will be less destructive, believe me.

And the more people that are born and fill this planet with doubt makes it less likely for these feats to be performed.

I blinked slowly and deliberately, but the creature didn't disappear when my eyes finally opened again.

Pale, cracked lips surrounded yellowed, decaying teeth. They were pulled back in the semblance of a snarl, but I quickly realised that they sat there naturally – revealing gums & teeth in a nightmarish grin. The creature spoke slowly, painfully, as if making the sounds was like chewing razors.

“You … called?” it asked, unblinkingly. Its breathing appeared laboured, chest rising and falling quickly, but at no time did it appear weak. Muscular, sinewy arms hung by its sides, fingers wiggling nervously.

“Why yes, “ I replied, “I wasn't entirely sure if you would come when I called, but here you are.”

The creature hacked and coughed, something I quickly realised was its interpretation of laughter. It looked me up and down, eyes as black as night, glossy and artificial.

“Here I … am. You knew … my name, and so … I come. Alas,” it crooned, and began to smile, “you seem to have … forgotten … the necessary … precautions.”

I looked down at the ground, clear of the circle & triangle designed to safeguard the practitioner, patterns I had traced dozens of times over the years, each time soliciting a response, but always a dull & uncooperative one. Tonight, they were intentionally forgotten.

“Any last … words … before I tear your … soul … from your corpse?” hissed the creature, leaning towards me ominously, hands curling into claws.

“Why yes,” I replied, “There is one word that springs to mind.”

The creature cocked its head in curiosity as I grinned what must have been an admittedly evil grin.

“Surprise.” I whispered calmly, and my hand shot out to grab the creature around the throat.

Its eyes widened, shocked at the sensation of human flesh touching demon rather than passing straight through. I gripped tightly and its lifeless eyes bulged. It reached up to grab my wrist but as soon as its gnarled fingers came into contact with my flesh, they began to smoke and burn.

A faint glow began to emanate from my wrist – the ultraviolet tattoo etched around my arm reacting to the attack and glowing ice blue, activated by something magical, giving off an eerie light of its own. The creature screamed and kicked, but my grip held true.

“You will tell me your full name creature,” I threatened, “and that of your ruler, or I shall rend your black soul from your body.”

The creature hissed at me again, fear and hatred fighting for dominance in its eyes “Never!” it gasped.

I squeezed harder, and drew a silver blade from beneath my shirt. At the sight of the dagger, the creature began to tremble and tears formed in its eyes.

“Nooooo” it wailed, “I cannot... I must not.”

“Answers, or a swift end creature?” 

The demon looked from the knife to my hand, and up into my eyes. By now, tears were freely flowing. If I hadn't experienced the trickery of its race so often, and at times almost at deadly expense, I would have felt pity for it. But not this night.

“Last chance. The answers I seek, or the end you fear.”

Whimpering, trembling, the creature thought carefully for a moment before closing its eyes and whispering “Into the abyss I condemn myself, I welcome Her black embrace.”

I sighed, disappointed, and pushed the blade effortlessly between its eyes and held it tight until the deathly spasms ceased. A quick prayer in Latin whispered against its mouth and I dragged the creature over to the fireplace and threw its lifeless body into the flames. The fire flared incandescent green for a second, the body disintegrating instantly, before settling back to its sullen golden glow.

“I'm going to have to consecrate more wood,” I muttered, “this is getting so monotonous.”

Taking a deep breath, I returned to the centre of the room. I held the blade loosely in my right hand and began the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram. I drew the pentagrams in the air several times, each in a single breath, reciting the words like old friends, familiar and calming. As I let the blade fall to my side for the last time, I took a deep breath and intoned the words “It is done.”

The room regained some of its warmth, and grew a little brighter. I turned to walk to my chair, feeling tired yet strangely exhilarated, the opposing sensations oddly apparent in my legs, when I saw her sitting in my seat. She was more than beautiful. She was … and then it hit me. She was Angelic.

“My Lady,” I greeted her, and bowed deeply. “Would I be correct in my assumption that you are Anael?”

The woman stood to her feet, and I saw behind her the faint glistening of wings, as if made of the clearest, wafer-thin glass, only the flicker of the fire's flames accenting their outline & giving away their existence. She began to walk towards me slowly, a single word escaping her red lips: “Perhaps.”

I suddenly felt drunk, elated, so happy I could cry. It was Joy, pure and unadulterated, washing over me in pulsing waves, emanating from this woman. I staggered, beginning to lose focus, and pressed two fingers to my wrist, touching my unseen tattoo.

Palm out held, I uttered the words “Turn unto me, and have mercy upon me; give thy strength unto thy servant, and save the son of thine handmaiden.”

She faltered in her advance, the emotion lessening until it was nothing but background noise, like wind chimes that pealed laughter instead of chimes.

“You are strong, my little mortal,” her voice was thickly accented, husky and seductive. She smelled of honey and milk, and truly, I could imagine our ancestors mistaking this angel for Aphrodite. “However, your actions are not going unnoticed, and I fear you are not nearly strong enough to survive the coming retaliation. At least, not yet.”

“Yet?” I queried.

She nodded, a smile escaping her lips. “I have watched your experiments with interest, and you are the first I have witnessed in millennia that has attempted such a task. While others doubt your chances, I believe you are onto something. And I intend to help, despite being forbidden to directly intervene.”

“Forbidden? Are we talking age-old laws here, or something a little more specific to me?”

“A bit of both,” she replied hesitantly. “Shall we sit?”

We moved back to the seats in front of the fireplace – the Victorian wing chairs comfortable and reassuring, the high back and sides wrapping you in a vermillion embrace. As she sat back into the chair, I couldn't help but ask “Your wings? They do not, get in the way?”

“Not at all,” she willingly replied, “The nature of my wings allows them to pass freely through all matter, yet protect me or grant me flight when required. They can radiate with His Light or resonate with Her Joy. If required, they can even rain down His Wrath. Rather useful, don't you think?”

“Very. Although, it appears to me that they serve more as a weapon than anything else.”

At this observation, the conversation ceased momentarily, her eyes examining me, trying to gauge my motives. I took the time to examine the angel sitting across from me as well. I could have gazed upon her for the rest of eternity and never tired of her appearance. I thought to myself, somewhat heretically, God must have spent a fair bit of extra time creating her.

Her hair was the colour of honey, her eyes a flawless emerald green. Her skin was a pale caramel, her lips matched the chairs in which we sat. The symmetry of her face was perfect, and her body was that of an Amazon – strong, but feminine, her musculature enhancing her curves rather than detracting from them. The longer I stared at her, the more I became convinced she embodied the perfect woman. And then it dawned on me...

“You appear this way because that's the way I want you to appear, correct?”

She nodded, the smile resettling itself upon her lips.

1. Respect their need for privacy

2. Never embarrass them in public

3. Let them observe first in new situations

4. Give them time to think, don’t demand instant answers

5. Don’t interrupt them

6. Give them advance notice of expected changes in their lives

7. Give them 15 minute warnings to finish whatever they’re doing

8. Reprimand them privately

9. Teach them new skills privately

10. Enable them to find one best friend who has similar interests and abilities

11. Don’t push them to make lots of friends