A Witch Who Cannot Heal

“I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

I’ve been mulling a great deal the last several weeks over my shadow work progress. The entire point of 2016 for me is to work on myself, to deal with the issues I have with myself and my history, those things in my past that have marked me deeply. And I had to make a hard assessment of my efforts. And truth is, they haven’t been enough.

I haven’t been taking this seriously. I haven’t been taking myself seriously.

There’s a saying that “a witch who cannot hex cannot heal,” meaning that a witch who is unable to harm another, who is unable to cause hurt, is unable to heal it when it is brought to them. We cannot know the light without experiencing the darkness, for we do not know the light without the shadows it casts.

So, I made a choice. To take myself seriously, to take my healing seriously. To express myself, instead of bundling all my pain and hurt in my heart, mind, and soul.

I pulled out the journal I had bought months ago and sat down with it, writing my current frustrations and pains on the pages.

It was not a lot, but it was something, and a small wound is now less red, less inflamed than it had been.

 

 

It’s amazing how some color and washi tape can make you feel happier.

I love how bright it is. With the colors and the flowers. Not what I was expecting.

–Red

I sent my best friend some pictures of the projects I’ve been working on, mostly the new bullet journal I started this weekend, but also a shot of my shadow work journal here.

I had inscribed a number of quotes after my first entry, all dealing with the shadow self, with shadow work. Quotes that have affected me or inspired me in some way along this darkened path. So many colors, and so bright.

“That’s the point,” I told her when she commented on it. And it is. I don’t want to sit in darkness anymore, and I need outlets for my creativity. I need some color in my life, even if it’s just ink on the page.

This journal will sit on the small altar I have set up atop my bookshelf in my office. It will sit upon the black scarf I have, with the candle and jar spells that I did for 2016. The small and empty jar of sourwood honey has a lavender candy spoon inside it from Sionnan and Penny from our equinox ritual last March, an attempt to hold onto my spoons as I deal with how much my mental illnesses take out of me in day-to-day life. The box I’ve had for years, almost as long as I’ve been Pagan, and in it are stones and items to bring me peace, joy, and courage.

Time to take this seriously now.