Once upon a time this year, I drove home and thought: Should I perform a spell?
The thought was inspired by the TV show Charmed, which I am currently re-watching. It’s about three sisters who have the power of three.
All this was top of mind because several people keep telling me to “let go” in so many words. They mean that I need to put behind me the frustration and general feeling of broken-ness I have. And I feel these suggestions because I remain angry over the whole cancer thing—even four years later. And it is in Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way that she says very wisely: When you are angry that means it’s time to change something.
I’ve done many things to banish the feelings and thoughts, but I have never done a spell. I thought: Maybe this will be a way to embrace who I am becoming rather than what is lost?
What makes a spell different?
From say a poem? Or a song? I see it as a very active form of writing. It’s more like a prayer or ritual that opens a door. It’s supposed to give the caster agency and guidance. A means of moving forward. When I sat down to write it, I wanted to have something I could hold or say—like a chant—when I was feeling particularly down. To hopefully snap me out of it.
The Internet also helped. I got a good framework from Luna Luna magazine on honoring your many selves.
My Spell
I honor myself; I honor her that came before. For all that she did and dreamed. For all that she could’ve been and more if not for the pandemic. And cancer. And time. If not for the consequences of being human. If not for things so far out of her control. If not. If not. If not.
I honor myself; I honor me—the woman of the last five years. How she got us through every day. How she showed up every day. How she worked and pushed and insisted each day to try to meet the minutes with integrity and not skepticism. How she gives the impression to others of lacking nothing. How she makes room for grief and disappointment and fear and lost hope. How she has comforted me in all the alone spaces and times. How when it is just me living the seconds of this dark forest path, she dreams of a future to move into.
I honor myself—her to come. Her becoming. Her in transition. Transformation. Her who I hope to meet—soul of independence—continuing the efforts of all the I’s to live with love and hope and art in my gut, my heart, my mind and share it out.
The power of three
will set me free
And you know what?
It worked!
I’m not crying. You’re crying. For real, I love your courage in writing this and vulnerability in sharing this ❤️
I love this!