So, it’s January 3rd, which means I have chosen to join the eager throngs of newbie bloggers; each of us envisioning hordes of hungry readers, salivating for the intimate details of our quotidian lives. We hunch over our laptops in the dark, sipping cheap coffee and wearing sweat pants so stained and gross we reserve them only for break-ups, Twilight marathons, and mustering the courage to address our readers.
Fingers tap across keyboards with the alacrity of riverdancers as we swear by every god in heaven and earth that we WILL hold fast to our New Year’s resolutions this year….not at all like last year. Last year was a fluke. Last year was for car payments, jazzercise, and failed attempts to grow our own avocados.
Where am I going with this?….New Year’s resolutions. I’m here to establish my practice. That’s Practice in the Zen sense of the word. In living daily by principles and exercises, the primary goal of which, is itself…practice.
I’m coming out of the broom closet and fully embracing my calling as a witch. It’s time to invest in study and practice. I’m a novice in every sense of the word. The cultivation of my personal spirituality has lasted years, but I’m new to active practice that incorporates those spiritual beliefs.
It is my intention to document and share the process for other beginners, or for the amusement of onlookers as my klutzy tendencies regularly result in spontaneous bouts of hilarity. Combine this with candles and the potential for setting things on fire guarantees perilously ludicrous results to report.
Wish me luck, say a blessing, send me protective charms. Fingers crossed that I make it out of this without gashing myself with an athame, asphyxiating on toxic smudge stick fumes, or singeing my eyebrows off when rogue candles catch my clothes on fire. Of course I could always practice naked, but cacti….ouch.
…and, just to complete the cliche, here’s the cat. Snarky little tramp, but I guess she’ll do as a familiar.