I Am A Pissed Off Witch!

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What’s Goin’ On

I started the day with a bang! Wasn’t my fault Lizzie’s boyfriend got between me and my coffee. Anyway, I went off on his ass. You just don’t get between the Bi..I mean, the Witch and her coffee first thing in the morning. Not when she’s already had to postpone it to take Mela out to potty. Not when said Mela has nearly torn the Witch’s fingernail off by jerking on the leash. Not when the Witch is sick with a very nasty sinus infection. You just don’t!

 

The Baby

The Baby

 

(Meet Mela, our Great Dane puppy. At five months she is larger than the average adult dog. She looks brown here, but she isn’t. She is a beautiful dark steel gray. What Daners call “blue”.)

 
 
 
 

I don’t get colds. I don’t get flu. I rarely get sick at all, but when I do, I get it bad. I have been very sick for the last week. He was just asking for it and he got what he asked for. I apologized later of course. I hate when I lose my temper. I hate it even more when I get mad enough to throw things. (like my coffee cup, for instance. Man, I don’t wanna break my coffee cup! I’ve used that same cup for years.)

Lizzie’s BF: “Feel better now?”

Lizzie’s Mom:”Much better, thank yew very much!”

Actually, I do. Something to be said for a good rousing temper tantrum! So, now I’m at my computer trying to get organized. I have a huge amount of writing to do. I badly need to get more pages and posts written for The Unknown Witch and I need to be posting more regularly here at The Gates Of Magick. In other-words, I need to hone my almost nonexistent organizational skills.

I went to the Add Plugins on my WordPress website and got the Edit Flow plugin which has an editorial calendar among other things which should be a big help. (I love plugins! Wish we could have ‘em on WordPress.com.) I downloaded Evernote then I started writing this post. When I finish it, I begin my great odyssey in organization. Wish me luck. I’m gonna need it.

 

No one stands between the Witch and her coffee!

No one stands between the Witch and her coffee!

The Devil Knows My Name

I know you

Told Yuh So!

I was raised in a Christian cult. All I knew was what they taught and my ideas of Witchcraft were the typical fundy Christian beliefs. Witches worshipped the Devil. They perverted the Sabbath day. While we were in church worshipping God, they were holding orgies, worshipping Satan and kissing his ass to prove how much they loved him.

I was fed up with Christianity. At six years old, I had already tried to commit suicide. I knew I was going to hell. I was evil. Born evil. In fact, I was so evil, the Devil knew me by name. They told me so! I didn’t have anything to lose, I was already hell bound, so why not enjoy the trip down? I decided to become a Witch.

I did everything I could to prove to Satan that I was worthy of his attention. I was as evil as I knew how to be. Unfortunately I wasn’t very good at it. My idea of evil was as warped as my idea of Witchcraft. I stole gum and chewed it. I said shit-shit-shit-shit and Goddam-goddam-goddam-goddam under my breath in Sunday school. I drew a mustache on a picture of Jesus. Man, I was evil. How could Satan resist me.

Then I sat back and waited for ole Satan to show up so I could kiss his hairy ass and become a free wheelin’ wikkid ole Witch. I needed a little power of my own and I thought that I could get it by becoming a Witch. I was doomed to disappointment. I waited in vain.

It was years before I learned what witchcraft really was and embraced it with my whole heart. I never could figure out what happened, why the Devil didn’t drop everything and hurry to claim an evil little girl for his own. I mean he knew my name, didn’t he? . . .I’m beginning to think he doesn’t exist!

still_waiting

Miracles & Maniacs

When I was a little girl, ten years old, my Grandfather drove off one day to a tent revival. Often he took me with him when he attended one of these things, to get the devil cast out of me but this time I was “sick” (I had my period.) it was amazing how often I got “sick” in those days. Sometimes twice a month, each time my “uncleanness” lasting 9 or 10 days. Hey, not my fault they were dumb as pigpen dirt. :D

Anyway, he returned bearing a miracle from God. This miracle was a small square of red flannel, stained with a bit of olive oil, prayed over and anointed by a man of God. It was a blessed and holy thing that would drive the devil out of me, heal me of all my infirmities and force my soul into a state of salvation, can yuh say hallelujah! Hay-men!

Best of all, it was free. Of course there was the small matter of the hundred dollar love offering, but hey, it went to a man of God to help pay for his mansion, his high priced suits, and the fancy Rolex he wore on his wrist. It served a good cause so Gramps was happy.

We weren’t so happy. That $100 meant hardboiled eggs and corn syrup sandwiches in our lunch sacks so Grandpa could dine on fried chicken and steak, but of course, we all had to sacrifice for the glory of God. We wondered though, why we kids were always the ones who sacrificed.

They even included a tiny safety pin so grandma could attach the miracle to my undies. Which she promptly did. I could feel old Satan oozing out of my pores and dripping onto the floor already. Naaaaww, not really, but at ten years old, I was already a consummate little actress. I could’ve made my fortune on Broadway. Acting was better than having faith beat into me, any day.

See, God wanted to run old Satan out of me. He was in a tither to heal my body and wash away my sins in the Blood of the Lamb but he couldn’t. My lack of faith stopped him cold. Such power. I could stop the omnipotent God from doing what he want by merely refusing to believe he could do it. Heady stuff for a ten year old!

That little prayer cloth was only one of many Holy Scams of God that Gramps fell for. There was the little tube of holy water, some sort of cracker, the blessed dollar bill. You know, the one where you give a love offering of fifty, or one hundred, or five hundred dollars depending on how stupid you were, and in exchange you receive a genuine one dollar bill, blessed and anointed by, you got it, a man of God. Seems fair to me.

The promised miracles never materialized. I was never healed of the arthritis that caused me such suffering even as a child. My devils, (reading, rebellion, thinking for myself) though they left on vacation from time to time, always returned home to roost and God never saved my soul. My disbelief and lack of faith was always stronger than the will of God, I guess. My grandfather always called himself a fool for God. But suppose, just suppose he was only a fool. . .

two jackasses

All The Little Pieces

3_rules

 
It begins small. A tiny touch, inappropriate, incomprehensible to a six year old. You have this uneasy feeling deep in your gut. Something’s wrong, but you don’t know exactly what it is. You haven’t the experience to put it into words. Finally, you think it’s you that’s done something wrong. After all, this is Daddy, or Grandpa, or Uncle Jake. . .the person you trust more than anyone. He loves you. He wouldn’t hurt you. Would he?

It escalates. It always does.

The caresses become bolder, more invasive. Each touch, whether gentle or harsh, tears away a bit of your soul. You gather your courage, and tell someone. To your horror and dismay, they don’t believe you.

“Stop being a little liar!” They tell you.

“She’s just trying to get attention.” They say.

Nobody believes you, you’re just a lying trouble making little tramp. And worst of all, your tormentor knows. He knows you’ve told. He knows you weren’t believed. He knows now that whatever you say, no one will believe you. He can do what he wants, anything he wants, with impunity. You eat, breathe, and live with fear.

An abused child isn’t just afraid of her abuser. She’s afraid of everything. Every situation is a trap waiting to spring. Uncertainty and confusion rule her life. Trust is gone. Hope has vanished. She learns to live by the three rules. And she survives. Barely.

The years roll by. She is a grown woman now, a shadow woman. She’s like a puzzle with pieces missing. Her body is still there, but most of the rest of her has disappeared. Too many pieces have been torn away and are missing. Too many betrayals, too much pain. She has escaped her abuser, but he is still with her. He is a little voice inside, whispering, always whispering.

“You’re bad. You’re a liar, a troublemaker, a tramp. It’s all your fault. You made me do it. . . “

She struggles through each day, fighting her inner demons, screaming inside from the constant fear. She suffers from Panphobia, the fear of everything.

Panphobia:

“A persistent, abnormal and unwarranted fear of each and everything. It can make an individual suffer endlessly. The fear ruins the quality of your existence. It may also cause panic attacks and keep you at a distance from your loved ones and professional compeers. Victims of this fear, experience symptoms like rapid breathing, shortness of breath, sweating, irregular heartbeat, overall feeling of dread and nausea.

You experience fear of everything as a product of the unconscious mind. It is treated as a protective mechanism. Whatever you come to hear, see on the television or read in the magazine makes you feel anxious and apprehensive. Your apprehension of everything can affect your health, career, school and family. You behave abnormally mainly because you don’t know what you should or should not be afraid of.

You always live in fear. When you are afraid of everything, you do not want to deal with anything unknown and unfamiliar. Anything or anybody new coming in your way seem to create problem for you. You’d just die to avoid such situations in life.”

After years of this agony, in the dark and dusty attic of old memories, she stumbles across a tattered, yellowed-with-age piece of herself. She has trouble recognizing it, at first. It’s so. . . battered. How does she fit it back into place? Where does it go?

Gradually, over a period of many years, she finds and gathers together the many missing pieces of herself. Some, like innocence and trust are gone forever. The rest are misshapen and warped. They will never fit the way they’re supposed to. She will never be the woman she would have been if the abuse had never happened. She doesn’t care anymore. She’s just glad to have them back.

Landing On My Feet

Well, I finally finished my Landing Page on The Unknown Witch. Here it is.

Before There Is Light

I will probably do some editing on it later. It’s not exactly what I want, but close. Check it out and tell me what you think. I would appreciate the feedback.

I also figured out how to do a jump link from the bottom to the top of the page.

Pat me on the back! :D

The Only Time We’ve Got

The best time of your life is now.
It’s all you’ll ever have.
Let the dead past bury the dead past.
It’s gone, over and through.
Tinkering can’t change a thing.
It made you what you are,
Move on.
The futures still unrolled,
It lies ahead.
One day you’ll reach the end
And you’ll be dead.
No one gets out alive.
Worry about that when it comes.
Now is all the time you have.
Live in the moment.
Past and future, unavailing.
Make your peace,
Lost time is never found again.

Time’s Awastin’!

Time waits for no man—or Witch. I have just too much to do. I’m working on my website blog,
The Unknown Witch, writing for this blog and working on my book.

We’ve moved four times in the last four months because of problems with my daughter’s job. (I’ll be posting on this so look for “Motel Hell” here, soon.” We are presently staying at an extended stay hotel in Greensboro, NC and expect to move to an apartment the first week of next month. Lizzie has a new job now, she starts Sunday so we’re okay there but it’s been stressful.

My point is, I have no time to do everything I need to get done so I intend to focus on my website till I get it up and going. I will still post on Gates of Magick just not as often, maybe twice a week. Gotta go now. See ya soon!

The Good Kind Of Dark

Embracing your darkness

Truth

 

The Church teaches that anyone who follows the Dark Path is evil. Anyone who uses Dark Magick is a follower of Satan. According to their doctrines all pagans, no matter what flavor are Satanists, whether they know it or not. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Satanists

You’ve heard of Christian scientists haven’t you? There are even Christian Witches. What you may not know is that some Satanists are also Christian.
 
There are two types of Satanists.

1. Atheistic Satanism: This type does not believe in the existence of a God of any type. They use the title of Satanist mostly for shock value. To them, Satan is an idea, not an actual entity. They do not believe in any kind of religious dogma. They believe that they are their own God and that they are developing themselves to a higher level of being. They set their own rules and values and do not have to accept the rules and values of our society. If you wish to learn more about this type of Satanism use these links to take you to their main website.
The Church of Satan Myth of the Satanic Community

2. Theistic Satanism: This is the type of Satanism I will be discussing in this article. These people believe in a literal Satan, that he exists and they worship him. They take all the trappings of the Christian church, turn them upside down and use them in their worship of Satan. In other words, they are a spinoff of Christianity. To believe in the Christian devil, you must believe in the existence of the Christian God. That’s a given.

If you believe in the Christian god enough to take his dogma seriously, reverse it and use that inverted dogma as the basis of your worship, you are also acknowledging that you believe in the teachings of the church. Theistic Satanists therefore, are basically Christians. Of course Satan is a Christian deity. No self-respecting pagan would ever invoke him as their god. He is not a part of our magick, light or dark in any shape form or fashion.

Dark Practitioners do have ethics. We don’t go around casting spells and hurting people just for the fun of it. We work our magick only against those who deserve it by harming us or the people we love. The results of working Dark Magick are not always evil or destructive. Anything that can be done with Light Magick can be done with Dark. Dark Magick can heal as well as harm. It can be used to protect as well as attack.

Witchcraft Lite

Wiccans believe in the Law of Return. They believe that if they violate it, whatever they cast will come back on them three fold. Because they truly believe this, it does. Belief is a powerful thing. I think Wiccans practice the lite version of Magick. They follow the Wiccan Rede and this puts hobbles on their magick. There are consequences from any action, mundane or magickal. Everything you do has unavoidable and unforeseeable consequences.

Taking “Harm None” to its literal logical conclusion, you could not take an antibiotic for fear of destroying the bacteria infecting your body. Thinking of taking a stroll through the park? Uh-uh! Stop a minute and think. All those tiny insects you might be crushing beneath those big feet of yours! How about that shower? More millions of bacteria meet an untimely end as you soap up. Gonna eat that potato? I really wouldn’t. Remember, it’s a living thing and has the potential to produce more little potato plants. Generations of potato plants, gone in the blink of a tooth. So here you are, sick, stinky, standing paralyzed in one spot, starving to death. Ridiculous, right?

When I first read the Wiccan Rede I laughed, because this is what I thought it meant. Like many who have been raised in a book religion, I saw in black and white. There were no shades of gray. A person who chewed gum was just as guilty and hell bound as one who committed murder.

How can you heed a law that is impossible to follow? The word Rede is taken from Old English, meaning to guide or direct. It is not an absolute. It teaches us to stop and think of the consequences that will follow our actions (or inaction) before we do anything. This should be true of mundane actions as well as magickal workings.

The second part of the Rede, the Law of Return, teaches us responsibility. It doesn’t mean lie down and be a door mat. It means that you are responsible for the fallout from all your actions, good or bad. You do the best you can, that’s what matters.

Magick lite is so inhibited by a literal interpretation of the Rede & Rule that when confronted by the evildoers of this world, they can only sit and wait to be avenged by karma, which we know rarely happens. Dark Magick, on the other hand, is very powerful stuff. It is Magick unfettered. You can bind that rapist or murderer. You can keep yourself, your family and friends safe and unharmed. How is that not a good thing?

Wish You were Here 2

Puzzle

In the attic of lost memory, a dark and dusty place,
I sit, picking up the pieces of a shattered soul
Looking backwards to a future full of pain.
In the attic of lost memory, I find the pieces,
Too crumpled, too tattered to fill the empty spaces.
They don’t belong there anymore.
In the attic of lost memory, I force the pieces
into shapes not quite right, but not quite wrong.
I can do this, I can make them match,
Not the original soul, but close enough for comfort.

Are You Scared Of The Dark?

Much, much more

Much, much more

When I was a much younger Witch, I was scared of the dark. I’d been told I was evil so often, that I believed if I gave so much as a thought to my internal darkness I would immediately become a monster. So I wore my pentacle proudly. I gave honor to the Goddesses/Gods of Light and love, and would never ever think of casting a spell to bind someone against their will, no matter what! There were many who called me evil, and I would always point to the Rede and say, ‘Oh, no, I’m a good Witch! Wicca has a law. . .yadda, yadda, yadda. . .!”

 

Then, I began to feel that the Rede and the Law of Return were a bit too much like Christian dogma for comfort. I also felt that the Law, like the Xtian hell, was based too much on fear. You do such and such and you’ll burn in hell. You do such and such and Karma will bite you in the ass. I don’t like living in fear. The practice of Witchcraft is supposed to be about self-responsibility and accepting the consequences of your actions. Why not refuse to do evil simply because it’s wrong, not because you’re scared of Karma.

When someone did me harm, Karma would see that they paid, maybe not right this minute, but sometime…. Maybe it was happening because of something I did in a previous lifetime. What kind of monster must I have been to deserve this! I waited for Karma to defend me. The Law of Return is all very well, but I need protection before the fact, not after. Of course I wasn’t allowed to defend myself. Me, use dark magick? Horrors! Me, admit I had a dark side? Unthinkable!

Why? Oh, why?

Why? Oh, why?


 

Someone once told me that talking to Wiccans was like eating five pounds of candy at one sitting. Just too, too sweet! Where was the balance I always touted as a Wiccan? Everybody has their dark side, no one is pure saint, no one is all sinner. Light must be balanced by Dark.

 

 

Darkness is not the same as evil. It is the polar opposite of Light. The realization that the darkness within me was just as important as the light, turned my life upside down. So, there I was, having to revise my entire belief system after years of calling myself Wiccan.

It wasn’t easy. It was hard and very painful. Facing the darkness inside my own soul, acknowledging that it was there and very real, was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I wanted to be good. I wanted sweetness and light, and nothing else. I could never have it. No one can. Darkness, like murder, will out. It’s a part of us. It’s supposed to be there. It’s how we were made.

Unless we face it, acknowledge it, and accept it, we can never be the balanced person we are meant to be. This doesn’t mean we have to go out and commit murder and mayhem. It doesn’t mean we have to act on our dark feelings and thoughts. What it does mean is acknowledging and accepting that we have these feelings and thoughts, that everyone does.

It also means we don’t have to lie down and be a door mat! We can fight back when someone tries to harm us or the ones we love. I will do no harm to those who intend no harm to me, but I will no longer allow myself to be paralyzed into inaction because some action of mine might conceivably cause harm.

Witchcraft is a matter of learning to balance the light and dark we each hold within us, not an either/or choice. I do not believe in hurting anyone just because, but I do believe I have the right and the duty to defend myself and others from those who wish to harm us.

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