The power of words, of rhyme and repetition, of simple wishes written by hand in a journal, or spoken aloud, or prayed in the heart over and over . . . these words are my wish, my spell, my prayer, my mantra:
Dance the old ways
Trust the knowing
Mend and heal
I wrote this wish in the declarative, not asking or entreating, but using the language of positive affirmation. It will be so. It will be so. So mote it be. Amen.
It takes courage to make a wish, and even more to make it known. Couer, from Latin cor, for the heart, and rage, from the root rabere, for fury, madness: Rage of the Heart. To write it binds it, to say it aloud binds it, to repeat it gives it power, and to share it strengthens it. Be careful what you wish for, because words have power.
This post is a reflection on Denis Brown’s appeal to his Facebook readers for more wishes to incorporate into his work. The ensuing wishes and dialogue revealed much about audacity, shame, pain, revealing and concealing, and even gender. I noticed that the women went first with the most raw and painful revelations. Women are like that sometimes: emotionally brave. Thanks to everyone who contributed to that thought-provoking discussion, and especially to Annie, one of the most courageous women I know.
The spell above I wrote in my journal with black ink, some red flourishes for luck, a spritz of water to mix up the energy. A couple of months ago I wrote it on my spell candle, to burn whenever I want to increase the magic of the words. But even without the candle or the journal, I can memorize my wish because it rhymes and repeat it to myself often. This is the nature of a spell, in the old sense, telling a story to myself. And after a while, it will be true.
I share it with you, send it out into the world. It came out of my pen, but I use my keyboard to send it to you. These are just tools to capture the words. To bind them which is a magical act all in itself.