Resurrection

It’s been a long while since I last updated, and my last meandering post left it on kind of a dark note. I’ve got to admit, not long afterwards, I did end up dismantling all my physical shrines in my home and stored them away until finally, this last week, I took a look at everything and reassessed.

A few factors were at play. An important one was the pandemic. I felt claustrophobic and frozen; it was suddenly especially difficult for me to focus on spiritual matters. I decided to summon all my strength into keeping me going and not becoming a burden on everyone around me. Anything confusing, exhausting, or that had the potential of anchoring me down was put in a chest, and stored out of sight. It was painful and strange. But I needed space, and I needed to give myself whatever kind of space possible, in every way I could.

Then, last week, after a summer of droughts and fire, it rained. And I was ready for it. It started with this blog post over on _On Wings of Summer_followed by one of the most stunning thunderstorms I have ever seen in my city. I knew that I needed to... well, Konmari my spiritual life. For over a decade I’ve resisted even calling myself a polytheist, or anything other than an animist, and I need to figure out if that still works for me. I need to figure out if Witchcraft, whatever that means, still works for me. Let’s be clear, I will always call myself an animist; in my family I was known for believing I could talk to trees and animals and objects as a child and I never actually stopped (instead, I just learned to stop doing it in front of people).

I’ve been on this spiritual path since the age of 12, when I stumbled on websites for Wicca during computer class. I’m not jumping off this path, no chance of that, it’s in my very bones, but there’s work to be done. For the first time in a long time, the nebulous nature of my spirituality feels exciting, full of electrical potential, rather than foggy.

So I opened up that chest full of hidden treasures, pulled out my offering bowls, candles, and notes, rebuilt my hearth shrine, and greeted my apartment once more.

And the spirits in my apartment smiled, and welcomed me home.

Home. A little shrine built in the wall. Top right corner, a bowl with some small magical items – a rose from a flower my partner got me, a quartz, two magic rings; bottom right there are dried plants I gathered and purchased around my home. Top left there is a little incense bowl, top bottom there is the tea cup I use to offer water, or tea, or alcohol to the spirits. Hanging in the middle is a bindrune for home I purchased in Iceland, and hanging on the right is a sprig of cedar from my favourite cedar tree in the world, harvested many years ago now.