I’ve been writing more lately, the beginnings of a book that has lived in me and wanted to come through me for many years. I turn 41 this August, and was introduced to ‘magic’ when I was 13, so I’ve practiced magic in some form for almost 30 years. And yet much is just now becoming clear to me. This year, I began to remember details of an ancient life I spent priestessing in an Egyptian temple. Now, if you don’t believe in past lives that statement may sound as crazy as the day is long. But I believe. And I can remember the feel of the tile and marble and sand floors under my feet as I walked barefoot in long dresses and robes from one side of the temple to the other. I remember carrying the torches and candles in darkened rooms and the shadows cast on stone walls as I passed. I remember the smell of clay and the resins burning and the smoke and the warmth of the night sky. And some part of me longs for the African continent in a way I can’t explain to you based on any of my experiences in this lifetime.
Some part of us always wants to go home. We’ve had many homes. Many lovers. Many children. Many deaths. We’ve lived and grieved and laughed and danced and loved and died and come back and now here we are, you and me. Souls crossing paths again.
Last year I was inspired to craft a potion honoring this lifetime in Egypt, called Ka. I haven’t sold Ka until now. It’s available here in my shop. In Egyptian, Ka means all magic. All knowledge. The expanse of what is possible. There really isn’t much of a translation for this potent concept. Which is magical in itself. I can’t translate much of magic in words, but I can deliver it in a perfume, I can conjure it in ceremony, I can make you feel it when I touch you.
What I’ve learned about magic, and especially this 40th year of my life as I make this grand return to my priestessing lineage, is that we all want to believe. It’s harder for some of us, depending on our life’s experiences and religious upbringing. But some part of all of us has seen things we can’t explain, felt synchronicities and deja vu and chills up our spine that tell us magic is real. We hold an ancient piece of rock or stone, quartz or mineral, in our hands and we just know. When people ask me what’s so magical about stones, I tell them – stones are the way in. They are the gatekeepers to a past that summons us. They find you, they draw you in, they connect with you, they change your environment. They hold space for and with you. I know that I have worked with stones for much longer than 30 years. Thousands of years. Millenia. Held these stones in my hands, walked temple chambers and gridded and gathered and aligned and charged and blessed with them. In the photo you are looking at quartz I have gathered from age 13 until last week. A lifetime of magic. A lifetime of entry points into a Universe of wisdom that never ceases to capture my imagination, hold and enchant me, bless and provide for me.
Magic is real. The priestess in me assures the wise one in you. And I am glad our paths have crossed again this time.
Aho and so it is.