Call it what you will – the soul, the essence, the ego, the Middle Self – but I am a big fan of me. And not only am I a fan of me, but I’m also a fan of the concept of me. There is a Me. There is a self in this body. There is something utterly precious in this limited, mortal sliver of existence bookended by this body’s birth and this body’s death. I don’t know if I or any part of myself is immortal, and frankly I don’t care. What I care about, practically and magically, is this life, this being peeking out of these eyes, using these hands to affect change in this lifetime.
I did magic tonight in the spirit of doing magic on a regular basis, just like my Lady told me to. Half the spell tonight I wrote out beforehand, with the main ritual actions yanked directly from The Goodly Spellbook. (I’ll let you know later if I recommend this volume or not.) I’ll leave the details of tonight’s working to your imagination, partly because I don’t feel like sharing something so personal and partly because I want to keep the energies of the spell focused. Basically I performed a severing spell with the intention of separating the energies of myself and someone else who really needs to be gone, in totality, from my life. This mix of Me and Not Me energies have needed pruning for a good, long while. Though I feel like the Morrígan is neither finished with myself or with this working, what I want to specifically talk about is the impromptu segment of tonight’s activities that started after I’d sat down before my altar, but before I read aloud my prepared spell.