I wrote about the Witching Hour last year. Although some imagine it to be midnight, others maintain it’s the hour between 3 and 4 in the morning, believing that witches and psychics are the most powerful at that time. In any event, when I wake up during the night most times it’s between 3 and 4. My Witching Hour.
I awoke with many thoughts swirling in my mind but I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to get up or try to go back to sleep. Nope. Couldn’t turn off the brain. Ramses follows me downstairs, even though I tell him it’s not time to “get up”; but being a cat he, of course, pays me no heed. I go into the kitchen to heat a cup of milk, and left him in the middle of the living room as I climbed the stairs with my tryptophan-laden drink. (Note: If I need/want to go back to sleep I usually take a couple melatonin, as well.)
Once in my room I had a small sneezing fit. For no apparent reason. These small “fits” are not allergy-related, but rather the spirit world trying to engage. So instead of getting back in bed with a book I sat at my desk and wrote in my journal. Streams of Consciousness…
LIFE. The fierceness of it. The FEARLESSNESS of it. Hope. MAGICK.
Break all spells that keep you asleep to your own Magick.
– Chani Nicholas
I subscribe to Rob Brezsny’s (freewillastrology.com) weekly newsletter. In addition to astrological forecasts, Rob includes wise quotes and thoughtful passages…
Lately, our work has seemed almost comically impossible. Many of us have given in to the temptation to believe that everything is upside-down and inside-out.
Ignorance and inertia, partially camouflaged as time-honored morality, seem to surround us. Pessimism is enshrined as a hallmark of worldliness. Compulsive skepticism masquerades as perceptiveness. Mean-spirited irony is chic.
Stories about treachery and degradation provoke a visceral thrill in millions of people who think of themselves as reasonable and smart. Beautiful truths are suspect and ugly truths are readily believed.
So no, at this peculiar turning point in the evolution of our 14-billion-year-old master game, it’s not easy to carry out our mission. We’ve got to be both wrathful insurrectionaries and exuberant lovers of life.
We’ve got to cultivate cheerful buoyancy even as we resist the temptation to swallow thousands of delusions that have been carefully crafted and seductively packaged by those messiahs among us who bravely volunteered to play the role of know-it-all deceivers.
We have to learn how to stay in a good yet unruly mood as we overthrow the sour, puckered mass hallucination that is mistakenly referred to as “reality.”
Maybe most importantly, we have to be ferociously and single-mindedly dedicated to the cause of beauty and truth and love even as we keep our imaginations wild and hungry and free. We have to be both disciplined and rowdy. (Emphasis mine.)
That fence between Light and Dark? That’s where I live. That’s where I have ALWAYS lived. Rejoicing one moment and snarling the next. This is where LIFE exists, too. Every living thing on this planet straddles that fence. Why should I be any different? Why should you?
I’ve finished my cup of milk. All that’s left is the “skin” that forms on milk when you heat it. I fish it out of the mug – because I love the texture of it as it melts on my tongue…
Ah, Ramses is back and strolling around my desk. “What the hell are you DOIMG?” He’s not used to seeing me here during non-waking hours and is probably wondering why I haven’t brought him breakfast.
Spring is coming, as it always does. As it always will. Bringing with it the Magick of Life, Hope, Ferocity, and Fearlessness.