The author of this article prefers not to be associated with actual crazy people who also gaze into winking waters – as seen above.
Sitting by the riverbed, I gaze at the turquoise waters. The sun, reflected in the fleeting ripples on the surface, winks at me. A cat and a magpie wander around, comfortable enough with my presence in this natural sanctuary. There are no goetic f(r)iends around, but still someone is talking. The stream holds my gaze, hiding a smile, and then I know it is Her, the Water, that I hear. Once I recognise Her voice, I lay back and listen. Sometimes I answer, but I mostly listen. Then with every word my understanding grows.
Of course this is not the first time we have a conversation. Last summer, at the beach, She indulged me for a couple of weeks. Daily doses of human rambling that she took with patience, even with an amused look, like the kind we give children when they show you what new trick they learned. That’s when She would slowly open herself up, teaching me how to stay quiet and listen. So in exchange I brought Her shiny pebbles to decorate the bottom of the sea.
During this sunset, there are pink clouds that announce the incoming night, someone else sits to my right while I listen to the river. It is the All-Mother, who birthed the world and those who dwell in it. Many have worshipped Her before, but She has presented Herself to me with an unknown name. She is my mom, my two grandmas, and all the mothers that came before them. It is due to all of them that I am here, and for that I am eternally grateful.
Now She has also given me the chance to know a new face of love, one more reason to thank Her. However, I never address Her in blessed tunics before loaded altars surrounded by suffocating incense. I often sit on the ground and simply light a candle then try to listen to what She shares with me. Other times I just give my Mum a call (even if I don’t really feel like it because I am tired after a long day), then I listen to what She shares with me.
“There are many ways to listen to Her. Right now She is sitting next to me, Her hand on my shoulder, smiling as I listen to the babbling of the river.”
All this bliss is now interrupted by the whispers of the wind, apparently I am late for dinner. He and I go way back, we have lived all sorts of adventures together. He has been a friend and a teacher, a messenger and a rescuer. I remember the time I defied God over him, and he smacked me on the back of my neck. He was the first one to whisper in my ears, opening the doors to a magical world where everything and everyone had a voice.
Ever since, he has always been around, a bit like Jiminy Cricket. Now he is telling me that I am late for dinner, so I say my goodbyes to the river and the All-Mother, and make my way back home. The cat and the magpie join me on the way, they would like some food.
After dinner, when the house is seemingly quiet, I sit at my desk, light two white candles and, after thanking the fire that banishes the darkness around me, I take out my magical record.I choose a black-inked pen to write today’s entry, as I do with those that I consider to be more important than the others.
…Then I write the following:
Another great day of practising nonsense. None of the things I do have ever been written down in any occult book, and for a long time I thought I was losing my mind! After all, having a conversation with a river has surely been considered a clear symptom of some psychological disorder in the past… But all those grimoires and old books, they just never did it for me.
Once you see the “human touch” in one of them, you start seeing it in all. Anything that is human-made was never magical enough for me. So for quite some time I was unable to find my own voice. Sure, I kept on doing some mumbo jumbo here and there, but I never felt confident enough to dive in head-first into my own practice. I would find myself drowning, dragged to the depths by the dead-weight of doubts.
Thankfully, I found some good books and great company, both of which showed me that the world is full of people that are, at least, as crazy as me. I’ve got to see through a little window many different magical views on this reality, and that encouraged me to get rid of all those doubts and get on with my stuff. Fortunately, none of the beliefs I got to know resonated with me, so I had to make my own – due the fact that they are unique and no one ever wrote about them doesn’t mean I am crazy, I think.
Putting my pen down, I notice the time. It is 22:13, an excellent time for a quick tarot reading before going to bed. Through the window I see the moon, smiling, so I smile back and I wish her a good ride around the skies tonight. Soon there will be a full moon, but it is still too cold to go around naked outdoors in the middle of the night. Also, the neighbours might complain.
Now if you’ll excuse me, dear reader, I have to figure out where the cat and the magpie hid my cards, and there is a gnome knocking at my door. Even the evenings that seem to be quiet turn out to be full of fun. However, before leaving, I would like to highlight the main takeaways from this tedious reading, if I may.
If you are feeling stuck, find yourself good books to read and people to discuss them with. And forget about your own doubts, don’t pay any attention to them. Finally, and most importantly, do not keep gnomes waiting…
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