The Strangest Journey

   Last night I went on the strangest trip. It was almost like an out-of-body experience. I closed my eyes, and suddenly I was being hurdled very high up, very quickly. I saw the entire world, and in every person, tree, raindrop, bird, every atom of every thing, I saw the same thing: inherent loneliness. It was as if I finally saw, with my own (though closed) eyes, how we're all connected. Not just to other people, but to every plant, animal, natural phenomenon, and even inanimate objects like walls, concrete, couches. And the thing that connected us was this horrible sadness; this unknowing of why we are here. As if all of existence suddenly opened their eyes, or their consciousness, or whatever it is, and all they felt was marvel at the fact that they existed, closely followed by a need to know why they existed, but could find no answer.
    I continued up in my journey, and saw the solar system, all the planets, then further still until I'd seen all the stars in all the galaxies, the whole universe. I saw all the intelligent life forms on other planets, and saw that they too, had the same longing. All the suns, stars, moons, people, animals from our whole universe are connected by this longing. Somewhere in my travels, I saw the gods I had been worshiping up until now, and realized that they were superficial. They weren't true deities, and I felt robbed, as if the meaning I had found was false. My journey continued however, up and up, farther than I thought possible, as if all energy was moving toward one great end that if I could just reach, I would find the meaning we're all searching for. So I continued toward it.
    On my way, I saw amazing things, other planets teeming with life, star systems that would break your heart from their beauty, swirling masses of color and light, planes of music and swelling joy (though covered in the same sad longing as our world). It was easily the strangest I've ever felt. I saw blue Krishnas, Buddhas, I saw my own chakras, I saw the place where all souls return once they've passed from our world. I continued, farther and farther up, up, up, until I finally saw Her. The true Great Mother, not the superficial one I thought I knew before. She was more beautiful than any language could even begin to describe. Her hair was made up of pure light and color, energy, life. Her face was constantly changing, from white to black to asian to hispanic, and back again. Her lips were pure love, her eyes were pure peace. She was everything I've ever longed for, everything we're all longing for. And she whispered to me, "All life is just this: eternal love, whirling, spinning, seeking. Birthing, dying, recycling into another life. Do not fear death, for there is nothing at all to fear. Your death is just the door through which you pass into your next life." And once she spoke, for the first time in the entire journey, my own longing seemed tempered. I sensed the longing of all life quiet for just a moment. And I knew peace. And I knew Her. And my journey has finally begun.

A New Beginning

Merry ye meet! I have created this blog to chronicle my journey from lost and confused soul to a priestess of the Old Ones, the Mother Goddess and the Father God. I am relatively new to the Wiccan faith, though I have always been attracted to the supernatural, the paranormal, and anything else outside the ordinary. When I was twelve, my mother bought me the book Teen Witch, and though I don't recall actually learning anything from it, it should have been the first indication that I didn't belong in any mainstream religions. I've always been riveted by shows like Charmed and Sabrina the Teenage Witch, though I know the magic in those shows wasn't real magic, it intrigued me to no end.
    I discovered Herbalism around four years ago, and have (painfully slowly) been creating a collection for both medicinal and magical reasons. I would randomly stop in occult/ new age shops and purchase tarot cards, mini candles with crystal holders, an athame, a spell book, and other small pieces of ritual tools. Then, about a year ago, a good friend of mine let it slip that he was Wiccan. Immediately, I bombarded him with questions about what he knew, how it made him feel, and if he really, truly believed in the duality of deity. He did his best to explain, but he was so far advanced that I could barely grasp what he was conveying. Sadly, he has moved away and we can no longer do rituals together, and I have lost my teacher. In form with a true priest of the Old Ones however, he did what he could to embrace my faith, and handed down to me every book he had on Wicca, saying he no longer needed them. Sadly however, they sat untouched on my self for months.
    For a long time I was again hesitant to practice my faith, afraid of what my family would think, what my boyfriend would think, what friends, enemies, anyone but myself. Afraid that my faith was impure, somehow artificially constructed around my adoration for the paranormal, the different, instead of around a true desire to find the true deities of our world. What I later realized was that it wasn't that my belief was necessarily impure, it was just immature. With time, I began to realize that if I wanted to practice Wicca, the only thing holding me back was myself. How could I stand in front of the Old Ones and expect them to accept me as their priestess if I couldn't accept myself?
    One morning, I woke up and realized that if I was going to do this, there was no time like the present. About a month ago, I found a folding table, set it up in a corner of my apartment, placed a lacy lilac cloth over it, dug my candles and athame out of a drawer, found a small cup "cool" enough to represent my chalice, and an oil diffuser reed to use as a wand, and I made my altar. Then, I was frozen in fear, I had (most of) the tools, the books, the desire...what was missing? The determination! I was absolutely terrified that if I stood in front of the Goddess and God, and had no idea what I was doing, they would scoff at my presence, or worse, not even attend if I called. But, recalling a line from some forgotten film, I remembered that courage is not the absence of fear, but action in the presence thereof. I bit my lower lip, lit my candles, and closed my eyes. Before I could stop myself, words just began pouring out of my mouth; not a prayer or evocation necessarily, but a plea to the Old Ones to understand my hesitancy, to recognize my desire, and to help me stop fearing my own inexperience. I asked them to show me how to properly worship them, what rituals to perform, how to go about my spiritual path.  Their answer appeared as a sense of peace starting slowly in the pit of my stomach and moving throughout my being. I realized that just because I didn't have a formal teacher, or really any idea of how to "properly" go about practicing, didn't mean I couldn't be Wiccan. I already had what really mattered: the belief, and the love.
    Since then, I have moved into a large house in the country, and have found a wonderful space to practice my faith. I have a large outdoor area to get in touch with the Old Ones in, as well as a permanent altar erected in my closet. I'm growing a magical herb garden, and am finally, after years and years of wanting it, becoming the Witch I've always wanted to be. This blog is to be a chronicle of the journey I  am embarking on, with images of things I've found that I like, or that I want; spells I found to be quite useful, and whatever else I think may help another who finds themselves on the same path as me. Another reason for the blog is to open myself to the guidance of experienced Witches who may find it in their heart to offer their wisdom and knowledge to a young, budding Witch.
    The journey will be long, the road is not easy, but I am ready. I am a daughter of the Goddess and the God, the great Old Ones who exist in every living creature, and I am finally, finally ready to begin. Blessed be, and Merry Ye Part until we Merry Meet again.