It has to be said. Witchcraft and magick don’t always work. That fact may be the single most difficult aspect of the craft to accept.
I practice witchcraft for better living, to manifest a better life for myself, loved ones, and help make the world a better place for everybody. I’ve studied, learned through trial and error, and developed what I’d call a powerful and successful practice, but I’m still a mortal, living in a mortal body in a physical world where chaos exists. I can steer my ship, but I cannot control my fate and future, at least not completely.
When things in my life are going along swimmingly, when my ducks are in a row and performing with precision that could bring tears to a Rockette’s eye, I start flying high on my own power, believing I have mastered the universe, or at least my little corner of it. I conveniently forget that the rug can, and will be pulled out from under me—sooner or later.
My little kitty is sick, and I’m beside myself. Time is coming up on a year that I lost her predecessor in a horrific way, a loss that threw me into a deep depression, requiring treatment. I love my pets like family, but usually don’t grieve their deaths in such a profound way. The loss of my beloved cat companion was just the last straw, coming after a succession of deaths in my immediate family that left little time to recover between each one. Why my little fur baby, why my last bit of comfort? Why me?
It was six months before I even thought of bringing another cat home, followed by many hits and misses scouting the shelters looking for the match. I wasn’t even sure I wanted this new one when I found her, but she needed me. And now I need her.
I’m waiting on the Vet’s diagnosis, imagining all the worst scenarios. It’s cancer, or some untreatable virus she got from the shelter she lived at for the first year of her life, only now making itself known when she finally has a forever home and somebody to love her.
I’ve done some magick, all that I can. But magick is likely to fail in the face of any of the conditions I suspect. So where does that leave me?
Witchcraft isn’t easy. It’s a lot of work, takes steadfast dedication. It means doing the things, and building the skills, when you don’t have time, when you’re tired, and even when nothing is working. Or maybe, especially when nothing has worked.
Witchcraft doesn’t give me the power to turn the storm away, it gives me the strength to stand and face it. It gives me the foundation to rebuild on when chaos rules. When I’m lying on the floor, broken in every way, like the Hindu Goddess Akhilandeshvari, the Goddess never not broken, I am able to understand on some deeper level that I will eventually rise up again. I will pull the pieces together, and I will recraft my future—maybe not the future I’d envisioned, but still one of my making.
In that way, witchcraft never fails me.
Blessed Be and Journey Well ~