Initiation Incoming
I can feel it building.
Like thunder behind the clouds, or the way the air stills right before the storm breaks—my Druidic initiation is near. And let me tell you, the anticipation is excruciating in the most delicious way.
I've been gathering what I need slowly, reverently—candlestick holders that felt like they chose me, ritual cloths I've charged with care, incense and flame, breath and intention. Each item has its own quiet story, its own whisper of magic.
Home, though sacred in its own right, doesn't feel like the place. So I went walking—listening to the wind, the water, the trees—and I found it. A quiet spot in the park, tucked away like it had been waiting for me. Not mine by ownership, but by invitation. Earth, Sea, and Sky gave a nod.
The date is picked. The moon will be watching. And I? I’m ready to step across this threshold. Not into something new, exactly—but into something ancient. Something remembered.
Soon, I will speak the words that make it real.
And I will become.
