Word of the Year

I’m not one for New Year’s resolutions. They never work for me, and I’d rather start working towards a goal when I am well prepared and truly ready, than waiting for a specific date. Something else that I have seen pop up more and more over the years, however, is the Word of the Year.

A tradition which started in the scrapbooking world, coined by Ali Edwards. You choose One Little Word (the name of her project) on which to focus for a year. It will be your guide, something to work on and something to inspire you throughout the year. I was thinking about a word of the year, not even necessarily because I wanted to choose one. But one came up anyway, and in such a clear and strong way that I knew I needed to do something with it.

Trust. I’m probably not the only one whose trust has taken a beating by everything that has happened in 2020. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had moments where I’ve felt betrayed by our governments, by society, family, friends, my own mind, and my body. It was a difficult year. I honestly don’t know if I can find it within myself to trust certain people again. Or even if I should. I even stopped trusting my own instincts and my own body when I got sick with covid. Now I’m nine months into what they are now calling long-covid, and some things might never get better. Times are still very uncertain, in a lot of different ways.

And therefore trust is a word I want to dive deep into in the coming year. What does it mean, what does it mean to me? How can I rebuilt the trust that has been broken? Do I even want to, or is it in some cases better to move on? I want to trust my body again. I want to trust life again.

There are themes that I’ve already started working on earlier, that I of course also will keep working on in the coming year. So, perhaps it is not one word of the year, but more like three. Acceptance, amongst other things because of my health. And self-love is an ongoing journey that I will still set aside my new moons for. So:

Trust
Acceptance
Self-love

Do you have a word of the year? Or any themes you wish to explore in the coming year? Share them with me in the comments!

New Moons are for Self Care

One thing that keeps popping up when I write about why paganism and witchcraft draws me, it’s “community”. To be a part of a group of like-minded individuals. To connect. Somewhere in the beginning of this hell-scape that is 2020 I’d decided to finally look into Red Tent ceremonies. To figure out what they were, how they worked, and what happened during one of these nights.

As I’ve spoken about in my Gender in Witchcraft series, I do think a place where women can meet and be accepted is a very important thing, so I was intrigued. Unfortunately, we’re in the middle of a terrifying global pandemic, one which has already had a (maybe permanent) effect on my health. I am not in a position to meet new people right now, especially not in groups. Travel is difficult. But I did want to do something with exploring these ceremonies and what they would mean to me. So, what to do?

I looked deeper into women’s circles and rituals related to that, and found that sometimes, instead of linking it to menstrual cycles, the rituals and gatherings are tied to the new moon. This spoke to me. Like I said before I’ve been doing some (ritual) self love work on and off for over a year now, but perhaps by choosing a time to set apart would be a very powerful thing. I could have one evening a month dedicated to self love and self care, no matter what else was happening in the world.

My first new moon was in June, where I explored what “being female” means to me. I’ve never felt drawn to the “sacred womb” and “sacred yoni” paradigms. Next to that, due my personal experiences I feel very little connection to them at all. (PMS so severe that I am on medication to no longer menstruate, not being able to become a mother, trauma, vaginism and my sexual- and gender orientation, just to name a few.) They are a part of my body, I acknowledge that and feel love to those organs for that, but they are not more sacred than say, my heart, or my eyes. So that first new moon I made sacred space, called out to my deities, sat down and meditated on that. Afterwards I drummed and drew oracle cards, and ended with a journaling session about what I had learned during the ritual and my thoughts. It was amazing. Richly empowering and eye-opening.

I’ve been setting time apart every new moon since then. I have it marked in my calender and try to keep those nights empty. So far, it worked. Some hurdles of course: my husband having the evening shift while working at home, so no space available upstairs. That night I just sat downstairs behind my laptop and wrote. Last new moon where I was having a terrible day and didn’t feel good enough to do ritual, I did it the day after. I’m approaching this very intuitively, for what I need in that moment. Somethimes that will be centred around a chosen theme (gender, community) and other times those themes will pop up naturally because of what is going on in my life (body positivity, boundaries).

So my message to you, dear readers, is this: Set time apart for yourself. To explore yourself. To find those answers within you that you’ve been looking for for a while. Pick a time (the new moon, the full moon, Sunday, the festivals, the first of the month, whatever works for you!) and keep your calender clear. Create your sacred space. Sit with yourself and listen. Ask yourself the difficult questions and listen to what you have to say. Without judgement and with acceptance. Work towards loving and empowering yourself, a small step at a time. You might be just as surprised as me with how this will change not only yourself, but the world around you.

Drawing myself

I’ve been on a self love journey for over a year now. One of the parts I am focussing on is learning to love my body. When I was younger I’ve been bullied because of my weight. When I became older I was still often judged for it. It came to the point where I wouldn’t wear the clothes that I loved anymore (vintage ’50s dresses) out of fear of being too fat or too old. I got over that, but there was still a lot of work to do about accepting my body. Accepting myself as I am.

I came across a wonderful artist Sara Tisdale (Sergle Art) who has soft and wonderful art of full figured women. Adorable and gently coloured, just very cozy looking. And I fell in love with her style and with the ladies that she shares. So this inspired me to make a self portrait of sorts. Drawing myself as I am, full figured, wearing the clothing that I love, in a soft and loving way.

As I made this drawing I focussed on that feeling of self acceptance and -love. I truly went about it as if it was a ritual for myself. Art magic!

After I finished this self portrait I made another one, this time nude, which was a very confronting and intense magical working. She will become part of a self love altar that I am planning to set up. My work around self love and -acceptance is not done yet, but I am loving the progress I am making.

Writing fiction as shadow work

Amanda Ylva, a writer who is also on Tumblr posted a reply earlier about how writing fiction helped her through some pretty tough times and deal with some pretty intense emotions. Because it is so personal and contained some triggering subjects I didn’t want to reblog it directly, but it did get me thinking.

She speaks about how she wrote with her depression as the antagonist in the form shadowy creatures. And that is just so amazing to me. It’s a tool that lets you confront your feelings in a direct way without being overwhelmed. You have a degree of separation between you and your depression, namely a character, or at the very least, a pen and paper. And like she says, you can have conversations with your shadowy antagonists, which will probably give you a lot of answers that you didn’t even knew you had.

She also says that she will give dialogue that has been painful for her in the past to her characters. Things said to her that were painful, or thoughts that she’s had about herself. Then other characters react to that in a very healing way. (”I am not worthy, do I even deserve to have desires”) (”your life is your own, you are worthy simply for being alive”). And that is such a good way to deal with that. I have had therapy (and am on the waiting-list to go back) where these techniques were used, but then as a visualisation, where you see yourself as you are now, saying these things to the self you were when this dialogue was born. But with writing it as a different character, you will get different, but no less meaningful, things that will be said.

I’ve had some realizations about my own fiction writing and trauma recently, but that had to do more with certain recurring themes. Certain plotpoints that I keep injecting into my writing in various ways. Some subtle, some less so, but all of them have some themes the same. Using the writing of fiction in this way would be a more direct approach to working through certain thoughts and emotions and yes, shadows as well. I could see this as a technique to “speak” to your shadows, to get them to show themselves and to integrate them.

Thank you, Amanda for giving me something to think deeply on.

(First posted to Tumblr, revised for the blog)