Intuitive Improvisation

magick and the contents of this book rely heavily on my spiritual cosmology of the self and universe, as well as previous concepts and techniques explored as a foundation in Psychic Witch, I thought it would be helpful to review some of the primary concepts and to bring a bit more information and understanding to those concepts. You will find that the concepts begin weaving in and out of each other and start forming a tapestry of a more intricate and proficient understanding in regard to how magick works. If you are a beginner witch, some of the information in this book may feel a bit advanced at times, or it may refer to something you’re unfamiliar with. If that happens, just keep reading along as everything will be explained. For example, a spell might refer to a zodiac sign or planetary sign before that topic is explored in depth. I’ve tried my best to try to explain everything in a beginner-friendly manner, in as plain and accessible language as possible without patronizing or infantilizing you by dumbing anything down. No matter your level of experience, it’s my hope that you will read this book more than once and pick up new insights with each read.

Chapter 1 EMBRACING THE POWER OF THE WITCH •

If there’s one thing I want to impart to you it’s that you are powerful beyond measure, even at your seemingly weakest points of your life. Sometimes magick comes to us when we need it the most, when we are at the darkest points in our lives. At least, it did for me. When I was a tiny child around the age of six, I finally settled into living with my new guardians. Over the three years before this, I had lived with several different relatives, foster care facilities, and foster families. After years of caretakers changing as often as Mr. Rogers changed shoes on television, I had begun to feel unwanted, as if I were a burden to others. Now, finally, I had a place I could call home. Yet, despite finally having a bit of stability, I was at the most disempowered time of my life. My grandfather and his new wife had gained custody of my older brother and me after quite the legal fight. I would quickly learn, though, that despite all the ways my life was enhanced, my grandfather was a controlling and abusive man, physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Being a very muscular and intimidating man despite his age, my grandfather quickly trained me to silence my voice; his motto was “children are to be seen and not heard.” Every time we addressed an adult, we had to address them as sir or ma’am—to break any of these rules led to severe consequences. My older brother got less of the severity as he was more traditionally masculine. In contrast, I was a more traditionally femme-acting child, more interested in playing with Treasure Trolls and My Little Ponies than toy guns and trucks. I even

used to introduce myself as a “sensitive boy” to people as a child. He would often tell me (with disdain in his voice) that I reminded him of my mother. So, I learned to be invisible and silent, to shrink myself in the presence of others.

One memory still sticks with me to this day as if it was yesterday, and it would change my life and create the setting for who I would become. I don’t remember the exact circumstances, but my teacher had called my grandfather about my behavior at school, as I was understandably having trouble adjusting. I remember vividly, though, what happened when I got off the school bus that day and entered my home. After being beaten by a belt, I was informed by my grandfather that he would be calling me out sick from school for the next few days. During that time, I was to remain in bed in my room. I couldn’t use any electricity, including the lights. To ensure this, my grandfather had turned off the breaker switch to the power in my bedroom. I wasn’t allowed to eat unless I was invited to do so, and I wasn’t allowed to get up to use the bathroom unless he came in and permitted me to do so. He warned me with complete sincerity that I had better do absolutely nothing but lie still on my bed, and he made clear that he would periodically check in on me.

As I’m sure you know, children of this age are bouncing with energy, so this was particularly difficult for me, especially since I was still somewhat afraid of the dark. So, for several days, I lay there with nothing but my mind to keep me company and on a forced fast, eating one meal every other day. While this is something no child should go through, it caused something in me to awaken. I realized that I could flow some sort of force out of my hands, and if I put my hands together, they would create a ball of invisible energy that made it feel like my hands were two opposite sides of a magnet pushing away from each other. I would begin sensing and seeing presences in my room, most of them just sort of passing by, but also a few who would stop and observe me for a bit before going on their way.

Dreaming became my refuge during this time, a means to escape the solitary confinement of my bed. I began wondering what happened as I fell asleep. How did I go from this waking consciousness to being within a dream? Pondering this led to paying close attention and becoming lucid during the transition between states of consciousness. Behind my eyelids, I would see moving blobs of color as if they were being painted with watercolor. Those shapes would swirl and eventually create what looked like a kaleidoscopic mandala

that would then begin to take over my field of vision with my eyes closed, until I was entirely dreaming. If I needed to use the bathroom, since I couldn’t get up or call my grandfather, I would visualize him coming into my room and saying I could take a bathroom break. With practice, this skill became more and more efficient until I could call him in my mind, and he would enter within a few minutes. I hadn’t realized it yet, but I had touched magick, and magick had touched me, and I would never be the same.

Two years later, through a series of synchronicities, I got ahold of a copy of To Ride a Silver Broomstick by Silver RavenWolf. I began devouring any of her books I could get my hands on. Since my grandparents were very strict conservative, religious folks, I had to keep this part of my life secret. If I hadn’t, my story might be completely different, and this book and my previous one would most likely not exist. I shudder to think what would have happened to me had my books and covert witchcraft tools been discovered, or had I been foolish enough to be honest about my interest in it at that time in my life.

When I think back to my original draw to Witchcraft at that age, there were several motives for why I had immersed myself into it. First, I realized that I had experiences that didn’t fit my religious indoctrination, which I had already questioned. Second, magick had become a form of escapism for me, in the same way that many people retreat into fiction and fandoms. Most of all, though, the allure of power at a time when I felt the most powerless in my life was perhaps the most seductive aspect of Witchcraft to me. Magick did allow me to escape, and it did empower me, but not in the ways that I had expected when I had begun my early exploration of it.

While I don’t remember the first spell I formally attempted casting, or which of my spells manifested first in my childhood dabbling, I do remember the first spell that I had cast where my willpower was utterly unshakeable and it worked undeniably. A few years had passed, and I cast a spell never to be bullied again with my mindset on my grandfather; it was some adaptation of the “Bully Frog Banish Spell” provided in Silver RavenWolf’s book Teen Witch. 4 Within a week, it had manifested. My grandfather came in to give me a beating and I remember, as he stood over me and I was cowering on the floor by my bed at this grown man towering over me with a belt in his hand, that

4. RavenWolf, Teen Witch, 208.