The Letter

I’ve always considered myself a chaos practitioner. The way that I practice magick is different to most, and I use a variety of different modalities & forms of magick, and layer them in unique ways. Retrogrades and tough transits have always been interesting to me, because while I can feel the intense energy, I can also feel the peace within it, knowing that the chaos is temporary. 

The Countdown

To carry somewhat where I left off in my last blog post, after performing a ritual to lay my old self to rest, the next few months were weird. Actually, weird is an understatement. Looking back, it was a wild time. As I dove deeper into shadow work, I uncovered many things that were hidden not only within myself, but things that were hidden from me that I did not realize were affecting my energy until they were uncovered. 

I received a reading from a dear friend whose Matron goddess had a message for me. The message? “16 days.” 16 days, and something must change quickly or it will be “really bad.” This didn’t scare me, but my analytic brain immediately tried to piece things together. I looked it up, and 16 days was the New Moon on March 10. Okay, so a new beginning was coming? I spent the next two weeks deep in prayer and strengthening my faith preparing for the possible storm. 

Doomsday Arrives

On the morning of March 9, I woke up to someone saying they needed to speak with me. I was oddly calm and grounded, though they seemed quite nervous. I told them I would make time to speak with them, and went about my day. Now, I had been silently working with the deity that delivered the message to me two weeks prior, who told me to just have faith. I created an altar in a bag consisting of a mirror, a key, and a tealight candle that I had yet to light. At some point, I set the mirror on my altar, put the candle on top and lit it. At that very moment the person reached out to begin to tell me what they needed to tell me. While they didn’t tell the entire story due to nerves, spirit was LOUD, and I instantly knew. 

They wanted to tell me everything but were too nervous, so I told them to write it to me instead. Later that day, they delivered the letter. I held on to it all day, knowing that I already knew what was in it. Suddenly, Spirit said it was time, and I packed the letter in with my altar in a bag and went on my way. 

I stopped at the smoke shop and met someone new whose vibe reminded me of a passed on loved one. I jokingly said I needed something to get me through some catastrophic stuff. He stood and talked to me for a few minutes. He told me not to let anyone take my peace, and not to do anything that would land me in jail. We laughed, he wished me good luck and I got in my car. 

I decided at that moment, that if I was going to the bar to read this letter, that I was going up to the bar near me so if anything I would be closer to home. And what did I pass on my way there? A restaurant and bar named after the deity I was working with. I knew I wasn’t meant to go in there that night, but took this as confirmation and continued on my path.

The Moment of Truth

When I arrived at the Whiskey Priest, I sat in my car on the phone with a friend. Without sharing details, I told her about the letter and that if I was right about its contents, I would “die” in that bar and walk out an entirely different person. She encouraged me to go for it.

I walked in, showed the bouncer my ID, and looked around the crowded bar. I ordered two shots of Fireball, one for me and one for my sister, because I never did get to go to the bar with her.

There was one open 6 seater table by the window. I sat down, set a shot down in front of me, and another across from me. I took the items out of my pouch and placed them on the table. I questioned everything for a few moments, but then grabbed the key and began to pray with the key in my hands. Looking back, I didn’t realize I had reached a new level of security in my faith to have done this in public, because past versions of me would have been way too nervous. But there I was, in a crazy packed bar, at a table by myself, with a key in my hands, praying to an ancient death deity. 

I knew it was now or never, so I slammed the shots back and opened the letter. Sure enough there it was, exactly what Spirit told me it was. I had a moment of realization that this is all real and Magick is real, because how else would any of this have happened the way that it did? After sitting with this for a moment, a hostess came up to me and asked if anyone had sat me there. I felt bad and told her no but if it was a saved table I would gladly move. She told me that if it was just me that I was fine for a bit and they just had a reservation coming in about 30 minutes. What are the odds that I got there when I did? It was almost as if that table was reserved specifically for me to have this magickal moment. 

I went to the bathroom and then back to the bar, to order another shot, to which the bartender let me know the other bartender was a mixologist. I, again, jokingly asked if he had a drink to get through some catastrophic shit. He responded “Fireball? I got you.” I slammed it back and then walked out to sit in the passenger seat of my car. 

I texted a friend and asked if they could “walk me home” because I was too drunk to drive. They immediately called me and asked what I was drinking, where I was, and if I was safe. After confirming this I started sobbing, saying “I wanted to know so bad, I just had to know, and now I know and I’ll never be the same. Is this what a Saturn Return feels like?” 

They calmed me down and then took me on a guided journey as I walked home. I drank water, ate a bagel and knocked out. For the next few days, and honestly the entire month, Spirit led me on some very interesting journeys as I navigated the new version of myself I was becoming. 

Interestingly enough, this season of my life aligned with Ramadan, a Holy month in Islam. I read the letter the night (maybe 2 nights?) before it began, and on the very last day (which happened to align with a Solar Eclipse) I went on my very first “witch drive” which has since become an integral part of my practice. I’ll talk more about these topics in another blog. 

The above photo is of a sign outside of the bar where my car was parked, I sent it to my friend who told me to make it my phone background, and for the next few weeks, it was a gentle reminder of what I learned that night, which is this:

After going through something traumatic, we can never go back to the versions of ourselves that we were before. It is normal to grieve that version of ourselves, but we can not stop. Spiritual awakenings are not a one time thing and they are far from pleasant. The purpose of them is to shake us up, and force us to adapt. We MUST keep going. If this is you right now, know that you are not alone. Whatever you do, keep walking.