Sometimes, the shadows fall across the bright, the confident, the true.

There is a breaking in the world today, a raw and open wildness that reaches out a hand to pull us up from all of the worries, the sorrows, and longings that sometimes make us sleepy.

There is a beauty in the world today that beckons us to believe, to see, and to encounter the possibility that everything is sacred, even when it weeps.

There is a spell that enchants and holds us, steady and solemn. The words are the forces of resilience and capacity, of knowing there is more at the bottom of our wells.

But sometimes, I am so tired. Sometimes, it’s the tired that aches down to the bones, to the places that have been still and steady.

Sometimes, it gets too quiet.

Listen. Listen. Listen.

At Dragonrise Witchcamp, we encountered the Cailleach, the hag, the one-eyed witch who traveled the lands, dropping rocks from her apron and creating mountains.

We connected into the work of creation, of shaping and forming, of noticing what stories we pick up and what stories we put down as though they were finished works.

But we can lay them down. We can lay them down.

We witnessed the exhausted, spent Cailleach, the exhaustion that looks like skin that turns blue and wrinkles so deep they are hidden. She could have laid down, she could have gone to sleep.

From the wind came a whisper, a call for renewal. A spring in the west that beckoned.

But the whisper was faint. We needed to be silent to hear.

And from the place, we pulled up hope, we found our voices and heard the whisper that called us to the spring, to the place we call home. We rose up because there was work to be done. The work of tending to ourselves.

We travelled to the spring, to the lush green, to the place of the Cailleach, where she met us and offered to wash away our tiredness. She offered us a drink of the healing waters.

And from that place of healing, we could move again, we could walk again, we could see the path clearly.

Now, with flowers rising up to the sun.

We know this is a journey we will take again and again. Where the shadows will fall and we might fall and we might forget that we are also the whisper for someone else.

But we are the whisper that reminds and encourages and embraces this existence. And when we find ourselves, others can find the spring too.

On this journey together, we can leave flowers in our wake.

Reminders that we are not alone.


About the Author

I'm a Witch, a priestess, international teacher, often-vegan, invocateur, ritualist, drummer, writer, moon devotee, Sagittarius, and Reclaiming initiate. I am committed to facilitating community growth and connection through ritual creation, storytelling, moon magick, drumming, and embracing beauty in all of its forms. And I am delightfully devoted to Aphrodite, Hecate, Iris, and the Norns. You’ll often find me writing poetry, singing to the moon, crafting songs, and looking for a snack. Here, I'll be writing about the moon, ritual, rewriting personal and collective stories, and poetry. And letting inspiration take the lead.

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