Silent Prayers (Witchy Things)
Photo from personal files circa February 2018
Saint John, NB
In years prior to now, when I could not find my voice, I looked for other means to express myself silently . I would pray and seek using objects, light, and colour. I started to utilize this form of witchcraft to find my way out of a tangled web of bad decisions. It was subtle–nothing obvious. Nothing Gothic. Rather, I called upon the powers of nature as I had learned her language a long time ago and found she listened to me when I spoke to her. I created beautiful tableaus like this one (in the above photo), but not just to create a pretty photograph. It was more than that. This is how I attempted communication with a higher power.
Nature is expression of God, to me. I find the natural world to be comforting and easy to understand.
- The Holy Spirit travels on the winds and blooms inside my soul as brightly as any star, settling upon my heart like a lightning bug in the dewy summer evening grass.
- I was born with a light that shines from within even though my outward shell, the hurricane glass that enshrouds my entire being, is dim sometimes. It's dim and full of smoke. A privacy screen.
So I chose to tap this inner source within my own soul and see if I could let some of the inward light bleed outwardly. I wanted to see what kind of powers I could harness.
My life was hanging in the balance. Efficiency was of the essence. As was secrecy. Private signals to something just beyond the veil. These gestures of arranging certain things a certain way acted as a sort of spell to siphon the energies I felt swirling all around me–out of the air and into me. I needed to get moving. It was start moving, or die.
I did not want to scream, nor fight, nor debate. I just wanted to be free. I wanted to be free so I started to move. The chains started to creak and then they started to tug and then they started to bend and then they started to break. Things started to crumble down. Dust started to rise. Streets went silent. The world stood still. For me? Whose to say for sure.
I started to learn what elements within a typical household could serve to absorb the magic I was looking for. It's a curious thing that non-toxic chemicals were able to do the trick, to melt invisible walls and smash through iron bondages.
Motion upon motion, colour, glass, wood, stone, gold, stars, moons, and seashells. Music, lighting, candles, smoke, prayer. It all came together to create a solid foundation which I could walk upon to lead myself out a man-made darkness, whichever man it was coming from. Along the way, I unearthed a family curse. I dug myself out of my own grave. I came to back to life. I rebuilt. I reconnected.
I have sat inside the silence of my own isolation for many days and many nights and each one is more alluring than the last. It feels like all is a mystery.
I look around at my environment and I make sure everything is beautiful while serving its purpose to imbue my life with powerful energy–like a certain kind of mana. Like something is coming down to me straight from heaven.
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