With the Power of The Morrigan – Curses and Disassociation

As I’ve sat with these returning memories and uncovering more injustices my younger selves experienced, the more anger I’ve felt, the more pain and soul anguish that has run through my body. Feeling my younger selves’ emotions was overwhelming. Especially as I felt those things for the first time. I never had the choice to feel anything other than fear, pain, and bursts of anger when I was child. It wasn’t safe enough to feel anything other than that.

A week ago, I sat with the pain of feeling so small, and yet, I wasn’t small enough. He, the shadow man, could still get me. That feeling of smallness was so overwhelming, my words stopped working, my mind was shutting down. I came face to face with that desire to just end it all and have some peace. My heart was aching, my lungs felt like they were collapsing, and I couldn’t stop the tears as they ran down my face. I was disassociating as I tried to figure out which younger or current self’s emotions were overwhelming me in that moment.

It was so layered and discordant, I felt so lost and unsure of who I actually am. I knew part of it was I had finally given myself space, my younger selves’ the safe space, to feel and exist. I was validating and affirming my very whole existence. And it hurt. It was hard. It was heartbreaking.

In a brief moment of reprieve from the chaos in my mind, I began to put pieces together of how I was going to fight for myself, and give myself further protection and validation of my story. I had had an idea that slowly started about a week and a half ago. There had to be a way to release all of the guilt, shame, pain, and harm my parents had done and given to me. I wasn’t looking for an end-all, cure-all, but something to officially “return to sender.” A dear friend offered assistance as I am not well versed in spells yet.

As I worked with them to make sure I had all the details I needed, I found out that things were already “returning to sender” in my abusers’ lives.

Now, let’s just be clear, so there is no confusion here. I am not Wiccan, I just prescribe to a Rede or standard of what spells I can or can’t do. What I prepared to do, and then completed this past Friday on the 13th as the full moon came in, was a curse. It was detailed in releasing and returning every bit of harm my abusers/parents did to me or put on me through years of trauma and abuse. It was physically cursing them with everything they’ve done to me. It was giving Karma an exact road map of what to return to them.

I have never been a place before where I was willing to stand up and fight for and defend my younger selves. My parents have continued to control me even though I live 2000 miles away. And it’s time for that to end. So my friend gave me the groundwork, and I set to work writing down the actual spell.

I did feel a tad guilty that what I would be doing would most likely cause harm to my parents/abusers. But I realized something very important. This is what a parent does for a child who has been hurt. They defend and use grown up words to get justice for their child. They use their words to protect and set up boundaries. I never had that. The ones who were supposed to protect me, to defend me. Casting this curse is how I am protecting and defending my younger selves and returning every bit of harm caused to us by our abusers. This will bring them harm, but harm in terms of what they have done to me.

A dear friend came in to town and was able to be there on Friday evening as I cast the curse.

By the power of The Morrigan,
Macha, Badb, and Anu, 
I curse thee, ___________________________ and ___________________________, that pain and misery will come to pass upon you. 
May the pain of knowing you’re not wanted break your minds. 
May your bodies feel forever uneasy and anxious
May your belongings break and shatter
May material work be forever out of your grasp
May you be scorned and lied about
May your secrets be revealed 
May your nights be filled with never ending terrors
May you always feel unsafe in the light of day. 
May your remaining children call you cursed. 
May your friends turn their backs on you
May your deepest fears and nightmares come true
May the knowledge of what you have done haunt you day and night. 
May the guilt eat you alive
May the shame burn your body. 
May you always know it is your fault. 
I return every ounce of harm you have caused to me, 
Body, mind, spirit, and heart. 
I return every iota of pain you have caused to me, 
Body, mind, spirit, and heart. 
I return every physical ache, pain, spasm that you have caused to me, 
Body, mind, spirit, and heart. 
I return every overwhelming moment of shame of being touched without consent, 
With the power of The Morrigan, 
May all this come to pass, 
May you be damned forever and always. 


I will not be sharing the details of all of the prep work I did for this spell work, or the various materials I used. This is the written/spoken part of the spell, but it is only words outside of the actual spell work.

The very second I placed my pen to paper, a banshee’s cry rang loud outside of my open back door. I felt the beginnings of the death throes of what I have carried for so long. As I waited for the candle to burn down at the end of the spell, another malicious spirit showed up outside one of my windows, determined to break in and stop me. I am grateful for how strong my protection boundaries are, but I still felt a massive sense of dread. It was a “I’m going to get you” kind of dread, not a dread based out of fear I wasn’t doing the right thing.

As I watched the spell burn and be completed, I felt a sense of weary accomplishment. The spell took a lot out of me, and I know it’s only the beginning. Yes, the spell was immensely successful, I know this through how well the spell completed, and with how so many spirits have been trying to get to me and aren’t happy that they can no longer leach off of me. But now I have continue this healing work.

And the next step is facing the disassociation and cleansing and restoring boundaries and energy protection. I’m realizing just how far I’ve come in the past few years, but also how much further I need to go.

I was sexually abused from the ages of (roughly) 1 1/2 to 4 1/2, then was verbally and emotionally abused until I cut my mother off 4 years ago. Disassociation was the only way I survived. I would, and still do, retreat into my mind and forcefully ignore whatever was going on my body or my direct surroundings. I start lashing out with frustration and anger because I got stuck in my mind somewhere and suddenly broke out of that and panic because I don’t feel safe because I checked out and do not know what is going on or where I am.

Heck, I’m even disassociating while writing this. I know that it’s a lot of this has increased recently because of the second round of memories coming back in the past month. So I’m going to wrap this post up. I need to let my body and spirit rest more, I have another long road ahead of me.

Resilience – Restoring

Content Warning: childhood sexual abuse, rape, incest, drugging. 

I am the survivor of childhood sexual abuse, starting roughly around the age of 1.5 and going to sometime before my 5th birthday. I discovered physical proof backing up my memories a few days ago. That shook me in ways I didn’t anticipate. I have learned to honor and respect the things my younger selves have finally felt safe to give me. But to have physical proof makes things a lot more concrete than just trusting your own mind memories and body memories.

It’s sometimes odd how fate decides to bring things about. I have multiple fellow survivors as close friends now. We are all in varying places in our journeys, we are all on different planes of the kind of healing required of these wounds. But do you know what brings us together even more than anything else? The fact that we hold space for each other’s stories and can validate that none of us are crazy for what we feel or remember.

I have shifted back and forth between an utterly overwhelming deep sadness at feeling my littlest self’s smallness and her massive disassociation at such a young age and anger that knows no bounds at the fucking bastard who did this to me. I can also trace back the spirit beings who continued to surround me every single step of the way. I see how they protected me from my soul being so shattered and splintered that I no long could hold on to myself. Just barely though.

I suppose there’s a question of why I am not cynical against those beings for not keeping my dad from sexually abusing me. I am not even sure how to react to that. While I firmly believe everything that has happened in my life has had a purpose, I don’t believe any deity should have come in and put a stop to the abuse. I had to go through that to become who I am today. But not because of what was done to me, but because of how my soul has fought continually to remove the filth put on me and restore it’s wholeness.

I am who I am today because I kept pushing on, I kept saying I’m not done yet. I am pushing to keep healing and fighting against the waves that constantly threaten to drown me. I’m fighting to heal and end this cycle because of those around me who do not have their voice. I am fighting to reclaim my power and my voice so I can speak up for them.

I have been sitting with the memories that have come back this week. I won’t be publicly sharing them as they are too graphic and too dark. They are the things I will share with fellow survivors to let them know they are not alone in their own darkness. I will be using my powers as a witch to make sure that I am removing and returning all of the negative energy and soul sucking yuck threefold.

I am not angry at my father for what he did to me. I am angry that my youngest self was treated so horrifically by my mother. My father? He is already reaping the consequences of what he did to me and my other siblings. So is my mother. I am more sad at the amount of disassociating I had to do to merely survive.

I’m working hard to rebuild and reclaim. Even though I know it is not possible to regain the childhood I never got to have, it is possible for me to make sure my own children get the fullest childhood to the best of my ability.

She’d say “You are so much stronger than you even think you are
Let your heart, let your heart lead the way”
That’s what she’d say

She’d Say – Andy Grammar feat. Lady Black Mambazo

We Are Safe.

Little one, we are here

Little one, I am holding you

Little one, our dragon is protecting you.

I see his sides glinting with shimmering opals

I see his eyes burning like rubies as their fierce glare burns those who are hurting you.

I see his wings spread to gather you close.

His fire bursts out as it’s destroys the space that has broken and beaten you.

I hear your wild cries and shrieks of terror in the night.

I see your hands wildly looking for safety.

I feel your pain when that safety is ripped from you.

I see your baby curls, the golden blonde ones,

The Shirley Temple look alike that drew so many smiles.

I see those curls being your curse.

I feel your fear of being noticed, your terror of being seen.

Being seen was unsafe, being noticed meant danger.

Baby Maeve, I feel your tears.

The ones you cried at night when no one saw you.

I see the shadow man waiting for you

I see his hands and fingers outstretched just waiting for darkness to fall.

I see you.

I hear you.

I feel your heart beat racing.

I feel that knot in the pit of your stomach.

I hears the whispers of “please no.”

We’re here to bring you home now.

Me and our Dragon.

He’s bringing you to me.

I will be your mama.

I will give you the love and kindness you were never given.

I will hold you, Baby Maeve, I will love you,

Forever and Always.

We’re bringing you home.

We’re bringing you to safety.

I can’t erase what the shadow man did.

I can’t take away the pain and confusion.

I can’t restore the childhood we never got.

I can’t be the mama who wasn’t there for you.

But I can love you now,

I can mother you now.

I can help soothe the rawness these wounds are causing us.

I can be safety for you.

I am safety.

We can hold you close,

We can wipe away the tears,

We can say over and over “I’m so sorry.”

This doesn’t and will not take away the pain.

But it will help, trust me, Baby Maeve,

It will give you the safety and love you have always needed.

I love you.

I believe you.

Baby Maeve

Acknowledge Us

Content Warning: Incest, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Child Rape, Being Drugged

I am strong.

I am powerful.

I was drugged so I could be controlled.

I was wounded.

I was broken.

I was shattered beyond any repair.

Or so I thought.

I recently was given a book written by a fellow childhood sexual abuse survivor. It’s almost funny how magnetizing those stories are and how so many of us find each other. Almost funny. ‘Cuz it’s really not, but it goes to show how powerful our stories are and how they draw us together. Our stories pull and shift so that we can find each other and know that, despite our abusers’ efforts, we are not alone.

The past month has been deeply shifting and transforming for me. A lot of layers were ripped back so old toxic wounds could be cleaned and then healed whole. A lot of these wounds have had to do with my mother. But two weeks ago in particular, I turned to my partner and told him that I realized I was feeling exactly how I did when my memories returned two years ago. Then I forgot about it because well life.

However, as I started reading the book my sister had given me, that uneasiness began to return. I made it 4 chapters into the book and had to put it down and walk away. I couldn’t read it. She was talking about how much she remembered and how she’s able to trace the abuse all the way through her childhood up to adulthood.

I am realizing as I write this that this is how I felt just before my memories returned 2 years ago. It was this uneasy sense of my story not being enough. Combined with a sense of something seriously missing but not being able to pin down what. Since some point last week, I have been carrying this uneasiness that something was shifting. Along with a deep desire to find someone who has a similar story to mine. It is really difficult to find another story like mine – one where the father was the rapist and the mother was the abuser.

As things were really sitting heavy with me yesterday, I kept trying to pull back to gain perspective. But as I did that, something started to fall into place. As I drove home from dropping my oldest off at school, I started tearing up. I have long thought that there was a good chance I was sexually abused at least once before being raped by my dad. Something happened before I could actually speak – the very least, speak in full sentences. This would line up with some of the things that didn’t get explained through the memories I have already had come back.

I have done a lot of work with reintegrating my younger self back into my soul, I even did a soul retrieval and brought her home. So when I got home from dropping my oldest off at school yesterday, I knew something was about to come through. I had lunch with a friend and thoroughly enjoyed chatting with them, but I felt the walls started to shatter and knew it was only a matter a time before it all came flooding out.

Yesterday afternoon, pieces started coming together. It was like I was standing there and calling those missing pieces to return to me. And they were coming back. Pieces were lining up, pictures were forming, and I could see the timeline starting to come back together.

I was sexually abused multiple times between the ages of 2ish to 5ish.

I believe the abuse started sometime before or during me being potty trained.

I couldn’t have said no. I didn’t know how to say no. It was not my fault.

The memories and feelings and sensations I’ve had return explain all of the gaps in my memories that I still didn’t have answers for. I still have missing places in my memories, but I am convinced those are because my brain couldn’t handle it anymore.

It explains my mother’s actions towards me even more.

I have been sitting with my youngest self and holding her and comforting her. My younger self who was brought home after my soul retrieval has been sitting with us too. We are both whispering and loving our youngest self and giving her the safe space she needs to “tell” us what happened.

I am sitting here watching my 2.5 year old happily play and build big legos all by himself. He unquestioningly trusts me to protect him and can be vulnerable around me and my partner. I watch my 5 year old feel safe enough to have a melt down because school was hard and he needs to just feel safe and held. Watching them have so much trust in us is a punch to gut knowing I once had that for my parents. Not only did neither of my parents hold that with respect and gentleness, they used and abused me and took advantage of my unquestioning trust in them.

I am sitting here and being gentle with myself today. Holding space and believing everything my youngest self gives for me to see. I am more present and grounded than I even have been with having memories coming back. My body is feeling relief of having the rest of the pieces.

And So It Is.

The Mother Wound & Re-parenting

The entire month of August has existed in the depths of the Otherworld. One thing after another has been coming to the surface for me and I’ve been facing them one after another. It has only been in the past 4 days that I finally feel like I have been able to take a breath and rest.

I am talking about my mother wound a lot right now because it’s the last set of chains I need to break free from. I am the survivor of childhood sexual abuse via my dad, and my mother, knowing what he did to me, chose to take all her anger and jealousy out on me starting from when I was between the ages of 3 and 4. I grew up always questioning what I was doing wrong, why didn’t my mother love me, and why did my other siblings get affection but I never got any?

This wound bled the entirety of my known and remembered childhood. I knew by the time I was a young adult that she would never ever have my back. I also knew that if I ever wanted children of my own, I had better get to fucking work healing that gaping, bleeding wound. So while my peers enjoyed their close relationships with their mothers, I buckled down and focused on what it meant to mother myself. If I couldn’t mother myself, then how was I going to be a mother?

I think when my oldest came along, I had really only uncovered bits and pieces of what it meant to parent/mother myself. Nothing truly replaces the warmth of a mother’s arms, or the compassion and kindness a mother has for her child. However, I’m not really sure what those things feel like. The majority of my childhood was focused on merely surviving. If I could survive the day, then I could survive tomorrow. I’m really really damn good at being strong. But having my own children and watching their vulnerability and need for me has broken my heart more times than I can count.

I see my younger self reflected in their eyes and feel my younger self’s sobs of loneliness and pain. Reconnecting that shattered piece of my younger self with my current self has helped me give love to her and hold her as a mother would. I have learned how to give myself love and compassion as I do with my children. I am still learning to read myself when I start getting extremely anxious and want to lash out. When that happens I know my younger self is triggered and whatever happened has ripped open a barely healed wound.

The Lady from my Druid Craft Tarot Deck – I feel like this is Anu’s card.

I have chosen The Morrigan and Her three faces as my deity and She has chosen me. I personally feel like She doesn’t fully embody the whole Maiden-Mother-Crone persona, She is so much more than either of those. Badb, who I talked about before, has given me many tools for ripping away the ick and healing the wounds. She not only gives me the tools, but sits with me and comforts me and weeps and mourns with me as I hold what I’ve lost and reclaim love and kindness for my younger self and current self. Anu though, I haven’t talked much about Her. She most embodies the Mother archetype, and She has been closest this past month. Her immense kindness and eagerness to sit by me and be my mother is felt so deeply.

Mothering and re-parenting myself while parenting and mothering my two children is far from easy. I know that when I get frustrated with them, I am reacting to something unresolved with in myself. When my children just want to be near me, it’s difficult for me to sit with them. That echoes the feelings of abandonment and betrayal I felt from my own mother. Because when I sit down with my youngest and he crawls into my lap, I am not only comforting him, but comforting myself and holding my younger self close in my arms too. I have to remind myself that my children do not have to know the strength I had to have as a child. They have me. They have a mother pouring love and care and compassion and kindness over and into them without a second thought.

I reached the darkest and deepest part of this latest dive into the Otherworld on Wednesday this past week. I could feel the chains breaking, but I also felt that I wasn’t really sure I wanted to keep living. The fight within me to live was not there. I strangely wasn’t suicidal, but I felt so weary and ready to give up. Even though I could see the light, I knew this was the last push, I knew I had to only go through this one more battle before breaking through to the sunny heights. It is truly darkest before dawn.

I fell asleep on Tuesday night crying for a mother’s arms. Anu sat with me and held me and wiped away my tears as I was finally able to drift to sleep.

Through my own children’s unconditional love for me, I have been able to give unconditional love to myself. I have broken down those shameful things my mother said and gave to me. Through the presence of Anu and Badb, I’ve been able to refill my well of strength. I am not alone, even when I feel like it.

I am my own mother. I am my children’s present and in the moment mother. I am re-parenting myself and holding space for myself to be emotionally unstable and sit with myself to try to pinpoint the trigger. I am committed furthering the healing and closing of my mother wound. The woman who gave birth to me was never and has never been my mother. I have been my own mother since I was a child. I am strong because I’ve had to be. But I am also gentle and compassionate because my children have shown me the precious vulnerability of a child’s unquestioning of their mother being there. I am their safe space, but can I be my own safe space? I’m sure as hell going to try.

Mothers Who Can’t Love

Content Warning: sexual abuse, rape, incest, emotional abuse

Three and a half years ago, I published a book about my childhood, deconstruction from Christianity, and how I had begun transitioning into the mystic. Barely a year later, I was hit with a massive wrecking ball – memories of having been raped as a child by my own father returned.

I know I’ve had another book sitting in me and waiting to be written. I am two years from those memories returning, and I know it is now time. For the past week I have been starting to slowly re-piece together my story in book form. By doing so, I have realized just how much I wrote about having been sexually abused but not consciously being aware of the truth. I used to hold the believe that my mother was just as much of a victim as I was against my father’s abuse. When my memories returned, an entire story line burst open. A story of how my mother never loved me. How she bent over backwards to make sure I hated my life; hated myself. A story of how she used every opportunity to take her jealousy and disgust of me out on me.

I had all the pieces of what she did to me, but I couldn’t see the whole picture. I was missing the thing that tied it all together; my childhood rape. I thought she was just lashing out at me because of how my dad treated her. The trickle down effect, ya know?

Through my mother’s treatment of me and the things she’s said to me, I thought I was just a despicable child. I knew there was something wrong with me. I knew I was disgusting and I was terrified if she actually could see into my mind. Besides, she constantly reinforced the idea that I was a disgrace to her.

As the missing memories began to fill in the gaps in the story of my mother’s treatment of me, I felt like I had been sucker punched. But also deeply validated. I firmly believe that she knew that my dad had raped me. But instead of standing by me and fiercely defending and protecting me, she took her disgust and anger at what he had done out on me.

I have no memories of my mother being affectionate to me. I have no memories of receiving hugs from her or feeling safe and warm or feeling protected. It was me against the world and my own house wasn’t safe.

And yet, I somehow am managing to not repeat the same cycles with my children. They are teaching me about giving and receiving affection just like I am teaching them that it’s okay to say no and to protect their boundaries.

Acknowledging and holding space for the damage my mother’s abuse caused is difficult. I’m doing it anyway, but I am holding space for my younger self’s heartbreak. It’s taken over 2 decades for me to get to a place where I’m okay with my body. I don’t feel like it’s the disgusting thing my mother always said it was. I love the shape of my curves and the fact that my body has created two new lives. I cry though for the pain my younger self experienced daily, and the self-doubt and belief that she was the cause of all of the family’s problems. My heart wrenches as the echoes of that pain still touch me to this day.

I wrote several thousands pages in the new book yesterday. I woke up yesterday morning at 4:40am with the last words of a dream ringing through my head. My mother was in the dream, but I was separated from her the entire dream. There was this weird kidnapping scene, I was with a sister, but not one of my sisters in this life time. We managed to escape and made it to where my mother was supposed to be. We were met by a personal assistant kind of person who kept going on and on about a bunch of weird details. I finally stopped her and asked her where my mother was. She just looked at me and said “oh, she’s dead.” To which I then woke up.

This is the not the first dream I’ve had of my mother dying or being at death’s door. The feelings that ripped through my body as I lay there in bed trying to process was of tearful relief. I believe the dream was pushing me forward to finish these last layers that exist in my mother wound. I felt like I was walking around with a bleeding and gaping wound on my back yesterday. I did a Lion’s Gate tarot spread yesterday, got some amazing cards and direction, but felt prompted to pull a 9th card.

I pulled the 9 of wands – the card of the final challenge, battle. The card of picking yourself back up, wounded and broken, and still continuing to fight to victory. It’s a fire card too and I certainly felt that burning fire ripping through me, burning away the pain and leaving the ashes behind for something to start anew.

So I’m standing tall, pulling myself up and facing these wounds and the deep dark pain. I’m going to do my younger self proud and give her the respect and space she always deserved but never got.

The Celtic Ogham – 3rd & 4th Aicme

For the first two aicme sets, check out my previous post! 

A complication about learning the Ogham has again surfaced. Due to there not being a lot of information about Druidic practices, there is even less information about their alphabet; The Ogham. No one (currently alive) know who or how the first Ogham were created. There are, like many other aspects of Druidic practices, myths and stories, but nothing known for sure.

It is said that the Celtic God Ogma was the one who created the symbols. But even that is not a straight forward story. Something I was able to find just today through my research was that the 5th Aicme is actually not considered an actual part of the Ogham. It was a much later addition and I’ve noticed that the few Ogham sets I’ve been able to find do not have that 5th Aicme. I’m in the process of getting the 5th Aicme made by the person I bought my original set from.

That said, here’s the 3rd and 4th Aicme.

The Ogham

3rd Aicme

Vine – Muin – M

This stands for Vine or Muin and the letter M.

Divination Meaning – Harvest. Successful completion of a project. Celebrations.

Reverse Meaning – Indulging in excess. Intoxication.

Magickal Meaning – Prosperity magick. Bringing goal to fruition.

Ivy – Gert – G

This stands for the plant Ivy or Gert and the letter G.

Divination Meaning – Breaking down barriers, perseverance and persistence.

Reverse Meaning – Feeling constricted, restrictions, ruthlessness.

Magickal Meaning – Luck, overcoming obstacles.

Broom – Ngetal – NG

This stands for the tree Broom or Ngetal and the letters NG

Divination Meaning – Healing. Sweeping away negative energies.

Reverse Meaning – Illness or disease. The need for healing.

Magickal Meaning – Emotional balance. Cleansing rituals. Banishing negativity.

Blackthorn – Straif – ST, SS, Z

This stands for the tree Blackthorn or Straif and the letters ST, SS, and Z.

Divination Meaning – Division, conflict. The need to establish healthy boundaries between yourself and others.

Reverse Meaning – Allowing yourself to be open for an attack; emotionally or physically.

Magickal Meaning – Establishing boundaries.

Elder – Ruis – R

This stands for the tree Elder or Ruis and the letter R.

Divination Meaning – knowledge from experience. Moving forward, sheding old habit. Transformation, the end of one cycle, beginning of a new one.

Reverse Meaning – Regrets. Holding on to the past.

Magickal Meaning – Faery magick. Transformation.


4th Aicme

Pine – Ailm – A

This stands for the tree Pine or Ailm and the letter A.

Divination Meaning – Initiations. Birth and death, beginning of a new phase in life. Foresight and farsightedness. Clear view of a situation.

Reverse Meaning – Not seeing situation clearly, blindness, inability to see truth.

Magickal Meaning – purification magick. Clear sight. Divination.

Gorse – Ohn – O

This stands for the tree Gorgse or Ohn and the letter O.

Divination Meaning – Sexuality, passion, love, relationships.

Reverse Meaning – Lack of passion in relationships, career, or projects.

Magickal Meaning – Love magick. Invoking Sun Gods/Goddesses. Gathering information, uncovering the truth.

Heather – Ur – U, W

This stands for the plant Heather or Ur and the letters U and W.

Divination Meaning – Healing. Creating sacred balance. Love and fertility.

Reverse Meaning – Being out of balance. Imbalance; physical or emotional or spiritual.

Magickal Meaning – Healing and love spells, fertility.

Aspen – Eadha – E

This stands for the tree Aspen or Eadha and the letter E.

Divination Meaning – Overcoming doubt and fear. Overcoming obstacles. Inner guidance.

Reverse Meaning – Being paralyzed by doubts and fears.

Magickal Meaning – Banishing negative emotions. Honoring the dead.

Yew – Ioho – I, J, Y

This stands for the tree Yew or Ioho and the letters I, J, and Y.

Divination Meaning – Death and rebirth. A time of transitions and change.

Reverse Meaning – Grief. Inability to accept change.

Magickal Meaning – Transformation magick. Honoring ancestors. Summoning spirits.


I have yet to firmly plant the 3rd and 4th Aicmes into my brain, but I am starting to realize just how much tree magick influences my thoughts and my life. I am noticing the kinds of trees as I’m driving around and remembering what the trees stand for and their magickal properties. Honestly, learning the Ogham has impacted me more than any tarot deck I’ve picked up and I kind of love it.

Recover – Restore – Reclaim

Potential Trigger warnings - childhood sexual abuse, trauma. 

I just passed the anniversary of my childhood sexual abuse memories coming back. As it was last year, this year brought another layer of memories and trauma remnants I had to sift through. There’s been an awareness that’s awoken within me as I’ve peeled the layers back. As that awareness has grown, the more I’ve felt the uneasiness and shifting that happens as I confront the toxic pain within me.

I am becoming more and more convinced that the longer you hold on to, or continue perpetuating the generational cycles of trauma every person holds, the more sick and more “messed up” you’ll become. This is not an option for me. I am doing everything I can in the present moment to shed and release and end the cycles of abuse and trauma. It is nothing anyone else can do for me. It has to be my decision and my choice to step into the tangled up mess.

I’ve known for a while that a massive shifting was coming and I knew this week would bring it. I’ve been gearing up for the shift and I knew it would be a difficult battle – but a battle I would win as long as I willingly entered the fray. I felt things starting to move over this past weekend and two nights ago it reached its peak. I still have one more significant thing to move, but what I did two nights ago was absolutely incredibly healing.

I chose the bath, as I don’t have any other body of water to use as a medium, and settled in to face what was coming. I chose to use a vehicle of Dragon Shakti Breathwork to allow for me to enter that transcended realm so I could do the work I needed to do. It didn’t take long to drop in, but I remember having a moment of “do you really want to do this? You are passing the threshold and there will be no turning back.” My immediate response was a resounding YES. I have learned that to hesitate, to allow things to stew, is how things are not processed or released.

The journey I was embarking on was a soul retrieval ritual. I was stepping outside of time and traveling to the aftermath of having been sexual abused as a 4 year old. I knew a piece, a rather large piece, of my soul has been ripped from me and left there. I have felt her missing and have felt lost and disconnected and split within myself. The more aware I become of my own spirit and the way it is intertwined with the magick around us, the more I’ve felt that massive missing piece.

Spirit and my ancestors and their magick was with me, pushing me forward, and guiding me to where I needed to go. I was going in to battle and it was a fight I was willing to face. It took but a moment to find her and enter that moment. She was sunk in the corner of the room I remembered, curled in on herself, lost and broken. We have spoken before when the memories first broke through two years ago. But this meeting was for the purpose of bringing her home and restoring our soul. I held her in my arms and sobbed over our pain and the destruction that happened in that moment. I cannot go into details of everything we talked about or what she told me, but when I asked if she would come back with me and help me restore our soul, she said yes with two conditions. She released her hold on that place and returned with me to this current place in time. She has brought such a sense of joyous wonderment and has restored joy within me that has been lost for a very very long time.

One of the conditions she gave me was that I forgive the man who had done this to us. I have struggled with the entire concept of forgiveness for the past decade. That word and action was used to manipulate and guilt me as a child. My ex-father, yes the man who sexually abused me, would yell at us with those demon possessed eyes on the way to church, demanding forgiveness. Forgiveness was a hall pass. If someone said “I forgive you” then there was no responsibility taken for what was done. It was the clean slate without having to change behavior.

But my heart has been shifting towards that word lately. One of the things I need to be able to do as I go through this Shamanic initiation is to forgive and bless those who seek to harm me. It’s seeing and acknowledging the human and the pain others hold. Forgiving my father for what he did to me is one thing, forgiving my mother is another and one I will have to approach at another time when I am ready to finish facing that massive wound.

I exited the bathtub feeling deeply released and feeling a new sense of life within me. I felt for the first time that I could truly forgive the man who wrecked so much havoc on my life. My younger self had already given me the words so I gathered up my cauldron, a piece of clean paper and a pencil with the crystals I had used during the soul retrieval.

This forgiveness does not mean that I will be allowing this man back into my life. This forgiveness means that I see and acknowledge his own wounds and it was through those wounds that he harmed me. I created the sigil you see above as a further releasing and way to add more power to my forgiveness. I do forgive my father for the damage he caused to me. I forgive him for ripping me to shreds. I forgive him for acting out his own pain on me. I do sincerely hope that maybe one day he can forgive himself.

As I watched the paper burn and watched that sigil disappear in flames and smoke, I knew it was done. A weight has been lifted and it is done.

And So It Is.

Asking For The Return of Moon Blood

Potential Trigger warnings - Menstrual blood, childhood sexual abuse, trauma. 

Two years ago the memories of what had been done to me as a child of the age of 4 came back. It was a few of the most excruciating and clearing months I have ever had. I felt like I had finally gotten all of the pieces of the puzzle that is my life, all while being almost destroyed by layers of shame, guilt, and pain from what had been done to me.

When I received my first cycle at the age of 11, my very very first thought at seeing blood in my underwear was “not again.”

Sit with that.

An 11 year old girl, the oldest and first child in her family to get a moon cycle, and that’s what she first thought.

“Not again.”

From that moment on, the sight and pain of my cycle arriving always brought terror and horrific nausea and pain. There was nothing “good” about it. Nothing pure, nothing healthy, or releasing.

Seeing that moon blood when we were trying for our first, and seeing it for 20+ months in a row was heartbreaking and depressing.

I used to daydream about never bleeding every again and despite how extremely difficult pregnancy was on my body, both times I carried a child were the best since I didn’t bleed for a blissful 9ish months.

I chose an elective surgical procedure a year ago this month which included my OBGYN burning away the entire lining of my uterus. So I wouldn’t bleed. Because of that childhood trauma, and then being made fun of from the moment my ex-mother found out that I had gotten my first period, removing that physical blood was 100% the right decision.

But.

Things have changed.

Two months after having the endometrial ablation done, I attended an incredible gathering that brought about my {re}initiation into the Pagan. The entire gathering was surrounded by challenging and breaking down the taboos about bleeding and moon blood and creating a beautiful healing perspective on what that blood means. I spent almost the entire time there crying because it was the first time I had ever heard of moon blood being a GOOD thing, a beautiful thing, a releasing thing.

See, the womb holding body is cyclical. As we move through a cycle, we start with a shedding of everything that we drew within ourselves and releasing of any energies that need to leave. Through returning that blood to Gaia, we are completing a cycle of life and death and rebirth. Just as the moon goes through her cycles in the sky, our bodies mimic that rhythm. To honor and acknowledge the power of our moon blood is to return to the ways of old when wisdom flowed freely and our ancestors knew the secrets of releasing and shedding.

I’ve been holding uneasy space for memories of my childhood sexual abuse over the past 3 weeks, and this week in particular is when the memories started fully breaking through 2 years ago. And for the first time I’m asking for that return of my blood so I can fully and deeply release the last memories and pain from my past. I feel the need to really press in to this. My desire is to create a sigil to draw over my womb while I go through a ritual of asking the Dark Goddess for my moon blood’s return. I will post more when I’m deeper in to this asking.

I believe in the power of the Divine Feminine and restoring wholeness. I am remaining open to whatever this return will look like.

Introducing – Shadow Rose Herbs & Co.

Shadow Rose Herbs & Co.

Websitehttps://shadowroseherbsco.com/

Shophttps://shadowroseherbsco.patternbyetsy.com/

So for the past few weeks, I have been working on and building up a new “business” venture. I say “business” because while yes, I will be selling herbal remedies, it is also something I am creating to hold space for those of us with deeply rooted trauma and to facilitate that healing.

Shadow Rose Herbs & Co was born a few weeks ago when I wrote down a list of 8 different business names. I then showed that list of names to a handful of people and asked them to pick the one that stood out the most and/or fit me the most. Every single person picked Shadow Rose. It, ironically, was the very last name on the list. It was the name I had written down after about 10 minutes of just staring at the list waiting for the last name to come.

My relationship with the rose has been tumultuous. I used to love the look of roses when I was a child, and the very first flower my partner ever gave me was a singular white rose. When we finally got to go on our first official date, he brought me a dozen white roses. But, the moment he walked in the door, my mother grabbed the roses and said “oh are these for me??” I was made fun of for liking roses – “you just like them because everyone likes roses.” I decided I kind of really hated roses.

But, the rose has continued to show up for me. Dried rosebuds was the first dried herb I ever purchased. It was the first thing I knew I needed to add to start creating my dried herb pantry. Then two months ago, I attended the Red Tent and the entire ceremony was about roses. That’s when I finally started giving in to the incredible depth of beauty AND darkness roses hold.

Whenever I started into creating a new space – whether that be a new blog, business idea… – the name is always first for me. The name is the foundation on which I start building. A month ago, 4 different people asked me multiple times why I wasn’t making and selling the herbal remedies I was using on myself and for my family. This came after several other people had asked me the same thing last year. With my health finally being a place where it’s not at the forefront of my mind, and my job has cooled down as well, I felt like it was time to start really pushing forward with opening an herbal shop.

So why the name I chose?

I was struck by how much darkness and shadows roses hold. Sure, you have the beautiful bloom and almost everyone just sees that, but have you seen the thorns? Have you see how intensely protective the rose bush can get? The thorns make it impenetrable, impossible to enter to the center of the plant. It is said there is lore of the rose being a symbol of carrying secrets. The rose holds a lot of history in legends and lore from many cultures.

The Shadow part of the name has to do with the darkness of the thorns but also symbolizes the darkness and shadows I carry being the survivor of childhood sexual abuse and childhood trauma. That is a massive part of me and one of the things I hope to do with Shadow Rose is create a safe space and products for supporting healing that kind of trauma.

Rose is to present the beauty and light that the blossoms bring to anyone who sees the rose. The vibrancy of different shades and sizes of roses. The rose is a multi purpose herb – the petals and buds are incredible to work with, but when the rose blooms die and form rosehips, this is another part of the plant equally beneficiary.

Roses aren’t just about beauty. Roses represent love, faithfulness, warnings, darkness, shadows, perseverance; roses are good for soothing and support heart grief, and bring peace with their scent.

I am still working with a sister on creating the logo for Shadow Rose Herbs & Co, but I do have an Etsy Pattern shop up and running, and a few products already ready for purchase!