Ex Penna

March has barely begun and I'm dreaming of the warm weather.  Not really for myself, however.  I don't mind winter weather or winter grey.  I like the snow and the ice, even when it's on the ground in front of me.  Just last week I slipped while shoveling and landed flat on my back on the pavement, shovel still in hand, while cars drove by and admired my form.  lol  But that's not the winter's fault; it's just that thing that sometimes happens to people when they think they're being bright by shoveling wet snow and cooking dinner at the same time.

But I do think about the warm weather for you.  Or, at any rate, those of you who loved my dried wild herbs so much that my supply is all gone!  When the weather is fine I'll be back out the the woods and fields near my home, hopping across moss-covered stones in creek-beds, wading through briars and underbrush, kneeling by a deer path, seeking out the very best of what the land is offering.

And maybe I will find something new!  Isn't that a crazy thing to hope?  I don't buys shoes or purses and I can't see the excitement in going to the mall unless there is something I'm particularly wanting to find, but I love the treasure-hunt feeling of walking in the woods and not knowing what may be there today that wasn't there before.  And that is one of the wonderful things about owning a shop: I do for myself as I do for you, and vice versa.  When I'm gathering herbs to sell, I'm also learning more about those herbs, their habits, their preferences, colors, and variations.  When I find something I've never seen before, I identify it and learn its name, it's habits and all that, bringing it into the brood with the others and selling it to those who need its virtues.  

But winter still has a little more time left before any of that.  Punxsutawney Phil predicted an early spring and the whittling away of snow has not been replaced with fresh cover, so though we may not have too long to wait, we do yet have time to plan and dream.


Image from:  http://uknowispeaksense.wordpress.com

If you were feeling slightly cheated after reading my last post "Spells to Become a Mermaid" and finding no such spells, here is my remedy.

What follows is an abbreviated collection of popular mermaid spells.  I am not claiming that they are functional, only that they do follow the standard pattern of traditional spells.  I have left them as I found them with the exception of some minor organizational, grammatical, punctuation, and spelling changes.  In each case where these amendments were made they did not impair the original style.  If you'd like to see the sites I found them on, check the links at the end of this post. 

Most of them can be found posted across the internet on any site discussing mermaid magic.  Because of this, unfortunately, none of the spells had a listed author.  If you know who wrote any of these spells, please let me know so I may properly credit their creator!

As you read these spells, please try to see them with the same optimism with which they were written.  There's a lot of modern ideas in here about just what makes a mermaid, what they do, and how they look (and there's certainly a hefty dose of admiration for the Australian TV show "H2O: Just Add Water") but there's also that same thrill that brought us all to magic in the beginning.  They are each easily workable and worth a try, if you're so inclined.  When you make them work be sure to send me a postcard from the island of your choice!



Elemental Witches Mermaid Incantation

...or a vampire or a werewolf.  Or to fly on a broomstick.  Or to live forever.  "You do have them, don't you?  Witches do that sort of thing, right?  'Cause I really, really need it." 



I think I've been asked for all these things and more.  Some experienced folks roll their eyes at these questions and change the subject, some launch into lectures on the use of true magic, and others sharpen their cynicism with snarky comments to shut down newbies who "still believe in that Hollywood stuff."

But it's not really the notion that it's "Hollywood stuff" that irks (especially since these are human dreams that predate and extend far beyond movies and media).  It's the idea that the person standing in front of you is so new and fresh that everything is possible to those who know how.  And they desperately hope you're one who knows how.  Is that so bad?  Is that something to squash?

I say no.  But, then again, I may have come to this a little differently than most.  Let me tell you about my first experience with the plausible impossible...

It was when Gigi was a baby and we lived in what could arguably be called the most social community we've ever been a part of.  We were a young family with lots of neighbors in a small area.  I always hung laundry with the lady who's backyard connected to ours.  My husband worked on cars with the guy across the road.  And there were kids everywhere.  A new mom with a newly toddling daughter was just too much fun to keep the kids away.  Going swimming in the creek, riding bike, climbing trees, and playing toys with Gigi was all the rage.  I had many summertime pre-teen visitors before I knew it, especially after they found out I was a witch.

That was the most exciting news ever, evidently, and word spread like wildfire.  Soon, I was barraged with questions and new faces popped in my door regularly.  With parents permission, they flipped through my books and even borrowed one or two.  They wanted to see my wand, know what everything on the altar did, and if witches have Christmas.  I didn't mind.  It was kind of cute.  So long as no parents got angry that their kids were asking me questions that I truthfully answered, all was well. 

On my wall was a fascinating object to these girls: my broom.  It hung over our large front window, it's unvarnished handle cradled in two black padded hooks.  I thought it looked rather pretty up there, but to the girls, it was a sure sign that I kept it up out of harm's way when I wasn't flying it through the air.

One day one of the girls asked the question directly.  I joked and said that it's much too cold at night for flying.  They persisted: did I, could I, actually fly it?  I asked simply "If I could fly on a broomstick, why would I own a car?"  They went silent and then the topic changed.  I left it at that.  I didn't want to kill the fun of the topic.  After all, who hasn't dreamed of flying away?  Isn't flying the ultimate freedom?  I didn't want to take that away so harshly.

Later we decided to go for a swim and after changing into suits we all met on the grassy hill before the creek side.  With Gigi wobbling along, I fell behind the giggling crowd of girls.  One girl fell behind with me.  She bit her lip and kept glancing at me like she wanted to say something but lacked the nerve.  Finally she leaned in and asked quietly, so the others couldn't hear, "Can't you...just...fly it a little?" My heart almost broke.  She was 12 and so willing to believe.  If I'd said I could manage about 5 feet off the ground, she'd have been there the next day to learn how.  How could I explain the truly impressive work of magic if I now flattened her hopes by telling her that the kind of magic she understood wasn't real? 


I saw in her the girl Gigi would one day become.  Do I tell her the version of life that was handed down to me by my mother, that life is full of pain and tough breaks?  Or should I tell her what I desperately wanted to believe myself, that life is endless possibility and you can accomplish anything your heart desires?  While she looked at me with big almost pleading eyes, I weighed my options.  In the end, I decided to tell her the truth, my way:

"I don't know how to fly it.  Maybe it can be done, but there are lots of things I haven't learned yet and that's one of them."

She listened quietly and stayed quiet for a long while after, clearly thinking.  I may have taken my previous stature down a bit in her eyes, but I tried my best to split the difference between pessimism and optimism.  One cannot be cured by the other, only killed.  In between, I believe, is real possibility.

So if you come to me for spells that give you night vision or the ability to talk to animals, I won't laugh or scoff.  I will do my best to help, because you are full of promise and light just in asking.  I could use twenty more students like that!  And, in fairness, there's actual traditional magic for a lot of this "Hollywood stuff."  Whether or not it works is for you to decide.  You may become a beautiful mermaid or you may have to say "There are lots of things I haven't learned yet and that's one of them."

Every living thing is subject to illness.  And whether it be from overexertion, lax care of our system, or simply exposure to more germs than we can fend off, witches get sick too.

I have traditionally looked at illness as a good time to take a break.  I would rest as much as possible, eat what was simple and soothing, and try not to do anything that required effort.  But that was way back before I was a parent, a witch, or a business owner.  Needless to say, things are different now.

Now I resist even admitting that I'm sick.  To admit it is to realize the need to deal with it, to fix it, to recuperate from it.  I need at least three solid days of symptoms so obvious that they cannot be ignored in order to face the truth.  But even after that, I might only permit myself to slow down if I'm in a particularly bad mood or if I can count on my husband to deal with the major items on the to-do list.  Otherwise, it's business as usual.  I won't usually even submit to medicines, be they from the store or from my mortar and pestle. And why?  Cause I'm sick, dammit!  I've got no time for that!  Yeah, I know...it doesn't make a lot of sense to me either.

But one thing I won't set aside at this time (unless ill to near-death) is magic.  All contradictions and stubbornness aside, this is an oft-debated issue that I find very simple.  When we're sick, we know we have energy for some things and not others.  We're not so depleted that we can't, for instance, muster the strength to walk upstairs to the bathroom or reach down to change our socks, even if we find something like grocery shopping too draining to face.  Just as the most exhausted parent is yet awake enough to run to the aid of their child if they roll out of bed, we all have what it takes, at all times, and in all states of being, to do what's necessary.

See?

Physical energy is no different than magical energy--sometimes it's up, sometimes down--but never gone or totally inaccessible.  Our abilities, during illness, don't suddenly dry up or go horribly astray to the point that they cannot be trusted.  If it is something important, the energy you need will be present.  Essentially these two forces are the same.  A fit, healthy person has more power at their disposal.  That's why taking good care of one's physical form is a facet of much of magical training.  But an unwell person can still focus their energy when it's needed--you work with what's available to you, no matter your circumstances. It's not fair to say that we should only ever cast when things are going our way.  Not only would that be impossible, it also defeats the very purpose of casting spells in the first place.

While I do believe in following the rhythms set for us by nature and our physical selves, I don't wish to be a slave to it.  Life never stops.  The present is an ever-changing space and we're always being presented with something new.  My family, friends, or customers need me?  I'm there.  Their situation is not going to stop for my fever any more than it's going to stop for my age (which is another tricky asset/liability issue).   This very moment may be the only right time to change course on their problem.  And maybe by pushing through the physical symptoms a caster can bring about a form of enlightenment.  Every now and then we need to remind ourselves of our strength.  We will always have the power to be where we need to be and do what needs done.  It is our will and our will be done.

The next time you find yourself down with a sickness, try some magic.  It doesn't have to be for healing, but definitely something you feel strongly about.  See yourself drop away all the physical stuff and dig into something deeper.  I'm not asking you to sacrifice sanity if you're in massive amounts of pain, have a temperature of 105, or are scheduled for surgery in 20 minutes.  But for anything less, give it a go.  See where it takes you.  The napping, sniffling, and hot ramen can wait a little bit longer. Your magic needs you now.

Today the bus arrived at the edge of our snowy yard promptly at 3:30 and I expected Gigi to leap promptly through the door and declare herself home from the forced labor camp that is middle school.  Instead she quietly slunk in, with a red face and redder eyes, her shoulders drooping so low I couldn't believe she was still upright.

Somehow this bold, smart, friendly girl had been viciously bullied on the bus.  Now I take the middle-of-the-road approach to school bullies.  One one hand, bullying has happened since the time of the cavemen and continues the be an issue, in one way or another, for adults as well as kids (pushy relatives telling you how to live your life, that jerk who's out to get your job, etc.).  If we're able, standing up to these people can be a real breakthrough.  Can we (should we?) really eradicate something that is old as time and that many accept as part of learning one's own strength?  On the other hand, bullying is a painful, unnecessary expression of pointless hate (or repressed desire, jealousy, fear, etc.).  How can we pretend that isn't a problem?  How can we accept it without showing our kids that we condone them becoming victims...or monsters?

Like any mother seeing her child hurt by another, I was ready for blood.  While I simmered, Gigi's dad sensibly called the school to let them know what happened. I probed Gigi for more information: no, it wasn't provoked; yes, others saw and they can be trusted to tell the truth if asked; yes, the bus driver saw but, no, it didn't make her stop.  It had begun with the other girl calling names and shrieking  (can you believe this??) "You're a witch!"  Gigi did as I said before and ignored her, but it only escalated now that she wasn't getting any reaction.  It ended with the girl taking scissors from her bag and trying to cut off Gigi's hair.  Hearing that, I wanted to march right over to that girl's house and shave her head bald and her mother's too, for good measure!

Gigi was upset for quite a while and especially embarrassed at having cried in front of older kids.  I explained things as best I could about how embarrassing things happen to everyone and that, to others, we usually don't look as bad as we think we do.  "It'll fade away and pretty soon, no one will remember a thing about it," I said.  But is that so?  Did it feel like that to me when I was her age?  My optimistic "mom talk" wasn't working.  I needed stronger medicine.  I needed magic.

Up until now (read Dreams and Curses), Gigi has learned and long worked with little magic -- healing, rain making, etc. -- and mostly in her own way, not formulated spells.  It has been time, in my estimation, to begin the work in earnest but it's been slow going without a clear focus to begin.  Was this a good focus?  Can curses properly propel a magical career?

In the end, it's up to every parent, teacher, guide, whathaveyou, to determine when the student is ready and how best to help them cross into the magical life.  If it "takes", great.  If not, try again another time, another way and hope for better success.  Some may disagree with my methods but the timing couldn't have been better.  She was totally ready.

I went to my work room and picked out my favorite spellbook.  Gigi sat sniffling on the couch as I opened the heavy book and sat it between us.  "Now, we're gonna fix this," I said.  "And we're gonna fix her, too!"


We looked through all sorts of curses, Gigi asked questions and I explained, we talked about herbs with bizarre properties, we cracked jokes and cackled at our own wickedness.  I looked at Gigi and her eyes weren't red anymore.  Her body was relaxed but her face was alive with curiosity.

We worked magic together--mother and child, fighting fire with fire.  Our visualizations fed one another, our chanting blending perfectly, growing rich and deep.  The candles burned brightly and reflected in her eyes, her smile.  I talked about having faith in the work because you put your all into it, and about letting that power unfold in its own way because it's on your side and knows just what to do.  I told her of the importance of faith in yourself because you will be the only one certain to always be there for you.  She sat up straight and looked proud, listening more intently than I've seen since she was a wee little girl and thought mommy was a genius.  The work done, we laughed and relaxed.  We washed our hands in special salts and had a hug before bed.  She fell asleep calmly, breathing deeply.

This isn't over and there are things yet to happen between me, this girl's parents, and the school.  But what happens next rests largely on what we did tonight.  There will be no "getting away with it" and no similar events in the future.  But, best of all, what this taught Gigi isn't over and never will be.  She's tougher than any opponent because she's got the will to be.  If it takes a little revenge to teach her that, then I say it's worth it.

Who says that black magic only brings sorrow?  All magic is done for the betterment of someone, somewhere.  The better is here and now--mother, daughter, partners and protectors.  The worse is with our enemies.  What they have asked for, they now receive.  Who are we to deny such a fervent request?

German imports!  :)

Ending the year well is never an easy task.  Maybe that's why I always stuff so much work into the month of December.  The effort I generally put into my home-life was rewarded with more hard work, preparing for our always massive celebration of Yule.  Though work it was--and with the same stress-inducing capability as any other--it was happy work filled with the pleasure of abundance.  Our table was as full as our house and everywhere were lights, music, and food.  Because this was a very special year (my brother and sister-in-law were visiting from Germany for the holidays), I was inspired to do even more!  I'm not terribly good at buying presents but I love to put on a party!

Me and enough dinner for 20 people. Instead, I served 7.  lol

Our ritual celebration is, by sharp contrast, almost quiet.  We rung in the longest night with a blazing fire in the cauldron, which in turn began the lighting of our annual handmade Yule log.  The blessings of each of the coming year's 12 months were invoked, one by one, and the whole of it was admired when it was all aglow with as much fondness as I believe we'll look on 2013 when it's all over in December.  An always raucous retelling of the story of Mother Berchta (delightlfully overacted, in our home, as a play with costumes) lightened the mood and we all enjoyed a little chaos within the well-worn boundaries of our ritual, our family, our home, our season. 

There is a business to big holidays, one that must be overseen with care and lots of effort.  But there really is nothing better than toiling for later joy--yours and others.  In baking, there is a sense of the pleasure of eating; in hanging decorations, the elation of a dark house glowing with lights and cheer; in making or buying presents, the excitement of opening them.  Those who put on such affairs do so because they can enjoy the preparation as though the day of its unwrapping had come.  And the more paper you put onto the big present of a holiday, the more there is to take off when it comes.  Putting on all those details can be quite a big job (or, rather, what seems like hundreds of little jobs!) but there is pleasure to be had in the work of it, if you're looking right.

Lit on Yule, the Log will be burned with the tree at the end of the season and the candles burned in turn on their month.

That's how I feel about my shop.  I have many projects already in place in my life (and, honestly, I always have.  It is my habit to celebrate the completion of one thing by taking on two more) and I don't always manage a perfect balance or keep a perfect schedule, but I love the process of trying.  The spark of an idea, piecing it all together, exploring options and interesting twists, seeing it complete and ready to meet the world ... each time I take on work--be it restocking, making custom items, or completely new listings--there is the pleasure of knowing that someone somewhere will see it as just the thing that they've been looking for.  

And now that we've entered the New Year and the busy season is waning, I see all the work yet to be done.  New items for you to view at your leisure from the virtual shelves of my shop, but also a great deal of magic that has been waiting.  As a professional witch, I do a lot of magic for others--sometimes purely because it needs done and not because I'm being paid.  I know it is against the morality of some folks but I cast spells for others unawares just as part of my practice.  If I'm planning two spells for this moon sign, what's one more?  It's good practice for me and a benefit to those I care about. 

This month I'm working on three (and it may be you!)-- a better business spell, a healing, and some money luck.  Each of the recipients knows well what I do, all could very much use a hand, but none asked for it outright.  To me the issue is a simple one.  It's raining and I've got two umbrellas; must I wait until you notice me standing there and call my name through the downpour?  Or may I just pop it open, hold it out for you, and go on my way?  It's still up to you to take it to shelter yourself.  It's still your job to walk to you destination.  My one act of generosity didn't turn you into an infant who can no longer help himself, nor did it ruin any lessons to be learned from your plight.  Maybe it taught you something that can be hard to learn--that sometimes people do nice things just because they wanted to do them.

Remember, Random Acts of Kindness Day is February 17

Maybe this, too, is a sort of toiling for joy.  There's little practical aid I can offer in the circumstances of these three people.  I'm no doctor and while feeling moderately secure financially, I haven't got what it takes to invest in a business nor to keep another's household afloat.  But I can offer magic and even when I'm busy and have work of my own to be done I can work for their causes as well.  And it makes me happy as any holiday--hectic but accomplished in the business of sharing joy.

For reasons unknown, I would love to be lazy.  Maybe it's the cold weather now settling in.  Maybe it's the long to-do list which faces me every year from October to February.  Or maybe it's the very thought of such delicious sloth that tantalizes me into a recurring daydream of doing absolutely nothing.

There I am, front and center, ready for the world.

If I were to do nothing, it would look quite impressive: sleeping in every day until I was bored with sleeping, eating oatmeal every morning, playing video games until my eyes hurt, watching old movies and seeing every moment uninterrupted and without occupying my hands, lounging in a hot bath for hours, flipping through books just to see the pretty pictures, daydreaming, falling asleep on the carpet, going out for a midnight drive, and dropping my dirty clothes on the floor.  Boy, would that be sweet.

But I don't think I would be very happy after a day or two (especially since, even in a fantasy with nothing to do, I've managed to make a fairly long to-do list for myself).  With nothing to work for, there is no purpose, no point to anything.  And soon leisure becomes as drab and colorless as the most tedious chore.  Where is the pleasure without the effort?  Where is the triumph without the struggle?  So, instead, I'm going to work hard and keep going.  I'm going to be posting new items on my shop (stay tuned!), making many more that will excite you all once they are complete, dip candles and refill other stock, while also keeping our household chugging along smoothly and preparing for our huge Yule celebrations that begin December first and don't quit until we all fall down exhausted on the 22nd.  As a bustling, busy, productivity-loving Capricorn, I doubt I could enjoy life any other way.

Best to you all as we enter the holiday season!

Quill