Month: January 2022

My husband and I will celebrate the Sabbat of Imbolc or Candlemas in just a couple of days. Right now, I’m busy planning a beautiful ritual celebrating the return of the light with the promise of Spring.

But, like the Wheel of the Year turns, so do I. This week has taught me to take action as in here and now when I feel even the slightest touches of the other side of being born bipolar; the steep hill down to my dreaded well over an abyss nobody should ever behold.

Oh yes, soon welcome back to depression, to the more muted version of the best possible me.

Where eagles cry less shrill, less coarse than me. Healthy contemplation transforms into brooding, caught between equal parts of righteousness and despair. And the trip down to the bottom of the well below the steepest hill seems to last forever and ever.

My greatest fears and worst nightmares are waiting for me. Still, my combination of prescription medicine, lifelong therapy, and my own efforts will keep up the fight necessary to twist my tormented Self free from their razor-sharp claws.

If only the days had more hours, for I can’t grasp time right now. It seems to flow its own ways, far beyond human understanding.

I have so many thoughts and ideas that I would like to gather at the same practical place, preferably on a piece of paper to be hung on my creative whiteboard.

But there have been, at the same time, so many other things that needed my focus and attention. So the main focus is to finish what I’m working with at the moment and then move on to some serious planning.

Things seem to take so much longer time to deal with. That is the first warning I get whenever my mood shifts once again. Then comes along a rise in my general anxiety level, and before I know of it, my depressive state is back.

Therefore, the ritual on Wednesday next week is so important. I make it a light festival because I need to fight the inner darkness these days.

Once again, the Wheel of the Year turns, and so do I.

But, besides that, this week became just as life-affirming and rich from the sound of heartfelt laughter between old school friends forever.

I’m behind with my personal diary, emails, and creative projects. So, I take one baby step at a time, over and over, until I have finished what I embarked upon.

This leads me to procrastination and the creation of yet another writer’s/artist’s block.

But I’m in contact with my counselor. I expect our next phone call to be about short-circuiting a depression in the making to save myself some extra time for what I love to do.

It takes such a toll on my body, mind, and soul living with my invisible bipolar “friend.” Anxiety usually kicks in when I’m most vulnerable or less attentive due to my fight to stay in balance with life.

But I’m well prepared, I have the best possible safe haven to regain my strength, and I was born fighting, as I one day will die fighting.

And beneath all this, I’m happy and content with my life, more and more, in fact.

So, however contradictory it may seem, I’m still maintaining a positive outlook on life in general, as I believe things happen for a reason.

In this case, I interpret it as the Universe’s way of telling me to handle myself with the most excellent loving care. Both here and now and always.

No matter the current mood, there will always be some hard work to do for my mental well-being.

And I’m more than convinced that our next witchcraft ritual, our good life here, and the coming of light will be more than enough to heal my inner wounds and scars once more.

As long as I’m willing to do what it takes to be the best possible version of me, whatever mood I may be in or not.

Once again, the Wheel of the Year turns, and so do I.

Now, I have the new cabinet that I want to create a permanent ancestor altar in. Yet I can’t seem to find the needed strength to actually get it done. So the plan is to clear and clean my witch’s den during next week. In the hope that it will spark inspiration and stamina to put my idea into reality and create magick.

Even though the numbers are skyrocketing as Denmark shakes off restrictions, I have become much better at limiting my news streams to the absolute minimum. We still take our strict precautions, though.

I have very ambivalent feelings about the sudden liberation of seemingly everything here in Denmark. On one side, oh yes, we are free again. But on the other side lurks the anxiety that this is a bad decision, very bad indeed.

Well, we can’t change what is happening. But we can change our attitudes. And here, we do that by engaging in positive things rather than listening to or watching the news.

So, a celebration of a great light festival is welcomed here.

But, today, my mood is not so much to create; I would prefer to work a little more with my digital Book of Shadows.

And I can promise you this much: I’m a born fighter, and I’ll keep on fighting for the rest of my life. Besides, nobody can run from a bipolar disorder, so I might as well make the most of it while I´m here, alive and kicking every inch back.

May your week be blessed with happiness, inner peace, good health, and kindness, dear readers and followers. May my depression be less downhill this time. And may we all soon be free of Covid-19 and all the bullshit in its wake, pardon my French.

As I will it, so mote it be.

Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again.

Yet another busy week for us here at our private paradise on Mother Earth. Our Copper Wedding was on Tuesday this week. Our dear friends had prepared so many great surprises for us that we had to take an extra-long nap Wednesday afternoon.

In today´s blog picture, you´ll find yours truly and my husband behind the arch of honor, which actually is a half arc since the traditions speak about complete arcs at the Silver Wedding after 25 years of marriage and the Gold Wedding after 50 years of marriage.

A Copper Wedding happens after twelve and a half years of marriage.

On Tuesday, we got up a six a.m. in the early morning, and the celebration went on from app. ten a.m. until app. four p.m.

Our gifts were a big trolley for shopping now that we no longer own a car, a big box filled with snacks and good food ingredients, a cake, and a bouquet of roses.

And, on Wednesday morning, we had about an hour of coziness and a tasty cake with two of our good friends.

They are the rare kind of people, the good people, the ones you keep closer than even the most intimate of the family.

They know by heart and life´s lessons that you must earn it by working hard for it to get something. So they are not afraid to converse about what really matters the most in life, to get as much as possible out of every situation whatsoever.

And they are present mentally, physically, and spiritually at the same time. Which, by the way, is way too rare in our so-called modern societies across the globe.

2020 brought us the ability to adapt to faster, large-scale, and more considerable changes in the world we live in.

2021 invoked a necessary and permanent goodbye to a highly toxic relationship. Fortunately, that change led to new and more positive relationships with people as rare as us.

2022 is already passing through too hasty for me to completely grasp just yet. But I sense an inner burning flame that sparks my creativity and passion for doing everything possible to establish and maintain a positive outlook toward whatever life throws at me.

For that, I´m grateful.

A Copper Wedding and almost everything else …

Well, to be brutally honest, the last two days, I have felt this vague, almost indescribable, feeling of a turning on the wheel between the highs and the lows.

But I fight it back every inch of the way because I really want to and need to keep the pace that I´m in at the present moment.

I hope and pray to the Universe that it is only due to my mixed episodes as someone with bipolar disorder may experience. But, it is like holding, at the same time, the world in my hands and stirring lost down into the bottom of the most bottomless well.

My luck, however, this week, I ascribe to the absence of anxiety. Only tiny, little droppings of a sudden touch of cold so cold that you can describe with all your senses, including the sixth, the inner gut feeling, and the thought of slight despair.

Nothing to worry about, as I´m working hard to learn the tiniest of signals before a possible attack from seemingly out of nowhere for no other reason than to create primal fear.

I have taken my precautions, though. I´ve asked my counselor for a debate about my anxiety, for it is noticeable that it remains so relaxed for so long a time. Almost three weeks without a single attack.

For that, I´m grateful.

This Sunday morning, right after the first Full Moon of the year, my husband and I shared a witchcraft love ritual.

I blessed some of his many seeds for the garden. I read a couple of well-written poems for him. And I cleaned our home for stale and leftover last-year energy with sage.

Drawing the Nordic runes with the Three Norns in mind made me think of days long gone. I bow my head in awe and deep respect as I write this.

Honoring my ancestors is a significant part of my witchcraft practice. So I have been offered a new cabinet for my witch´s den. Right now, I´m thinking of how to change it into a mix between a storage area for my growing inventory of witchy stuff and a permanent ancestor altar.

I have some leftover items that need to be taken loving care of. I have postponed working with them, as they are associated with good as well as bad memories.

Now may be precisely the time I have been procrastinating for so long.

Yet another creative project that may involve several minor pre-projects, as my racing thoughts tend to feel more robust than they are in the harsh reality of life with bipolar disorder and anxiety.

A Copper Wedding and almost everything else …

It has been a fantastic week so far, and in a short while, it will be time for my afternoon power nap on the couch binge-watching a series actually worth binge-watching.

Tonight, my reward for being busy on a Sunday is to sit quietly and write in my digital Book of Shadows. There is progress; however, it is a large creative project that will consume just as much time as my handwritten version.

And tomorrow, after a visit of a friend and my hairdresser, I need to go warm up my creative den and stay there for an hour or two.

May your week be merry, free from any kind of troubles, and blessed with the Sun´s rays, dear readers and followers. May happiness, inner peace, good health, and kindness be the keywords of 2022. And may the love, the friendship, and the spiritual bond between my husband and me stay strong forever.

As we solemnly will it,

So Mote It Be.

As above, so below.

Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again.

Unlike last week, where I felt tired from the toils of a couple of difficult days, I decided willingly this Friday to postpone my weekly writing until today, Sunday.

It feels somehow familiar sitting here around Noon on a wet and bitter cold Sunday, where the only interruption is the usual car spurting down our street.

Unlike last night around 8 p.m. CET, when my husband spotted a person coming out of a window in a house across the street.

We know the owner of the former cinema building that is undergoing construction to serve as new flats.

Therefore, we called the police. But nothing was to be found on the window, except for marks after gloves.

We believe that my husband hindered a burglary from being a success. So the credit goes to him for good citizenship in a time when that term seems far, far away around people in general.

These mind-blowing two first weeks of year three with Corona shadowing life across the globe, well, they make it easy for me to decide to keep writing here, only from today on Sundays rather than Fridays.

Forgive me, please, for not having written that on Friday. Thank you.

When that is said, I feel pretty comfortable now, wearing my morning gown, although it is long past Noon right now.

We just took our little, wise, old dog for a walk. Then, we came home with the rain to the warm and caring place we call home.

My husband lit the candles, found himself a binge-worthy series on TV, and now enjoys a cozy Sunday afternoon with a total absence of interference whatsoever. Not even the usual car is to be heard.

I look forward to Tuesday next week; it is the day of our copper wedding. It means twelve years and six months of marriage. There will be a small brunch with close friends in the morning.

I also anticipate an extra phone call to my father on Thursday, when he will be eighty-four years old.

So it is an eventful week ahead of me. Therefore, my plans for today are to create a love ritual for Wednesday right after the Full Moon Tuesday and keep working hard to make a digital version of my Book of Shadows (BoS).

Then, the energies are more vital than usual to me. So it is time for both minor releases and significant acts of gratitude.

That is what awaits me right after this blog post. Hopefully, it will re-energize me and spark severe creativity concerning my novels.

On the whole, this month equals being busy all of the time. But, thank you, dear Universe, busy with things I love to do.

Even the daily chores are dear to me in the sense that doing just a little bit extra every day makes the difference; we will remember some other day when we grow old enough to reside in a smaller place with just enough room for two.

Yet another Sunday reflection, it feels right to write exactly a blog post on a day with positive undertones of the promise of the coming of Spring.

The light of the day has already grown since the Winter Solstice almost a month ago. But the nights are still tingling with a touch of frost.

We have come mid-term this Winter now. Soon, it is time to plan the first Sabbath of this new year, Imbolc or Candlemas.

The white light festival to me that is. White as the dominant theme in my altar setup and my ritual workings, that is Imbolc to me. Making the spell bottle to wake up the Spring Goddesses from their Winter hibernation in the underworld, far below, yet, at the same time, right here in the present moment.

Perhaps, Sunday is the best day of the week to create something worth reading more than just through a hasty eye. I can look back at an entire week and find many more happy moments than usual.

There was a ladies´ luncheon Wednesday, with good food, wine, and four women laughing at the world and each other.

Followed up by visits and guests on and off a week in a row, it was a pleasure and a joy to participate in that. But now, I´m mentally overloaded, especially from yesterday evening´s unpleasant surprise in the form of burglars and police, so I´m more than happy to be here on my own.

My husband, the little, wise, old dog, and the three philosophical cats have all surrendered to a long and healthy nap in cozy, warm places.

So, I have decided to write on Sundays from now on. And other changes will follow when I get the time to implement my ideas and thoughts to this blog.

And, best of all good that has happened this week; neither my anxiety nor my bipolar disorder has made too much trouble for once.

Only my mixed emotions have caused small ripples in my mind. Still, talking it through with my husband and my counselor, they are transformed into creative diversions from a crazy world outside.

Tonight, it is time for another call to my father. We will probably talk for at least an hour this time because we save the best for the last day of the week.

And tonight, I will end the week by working through a massive bunch of emails and updating my diary calendar.

Now, listening to a peaceful soundtrack, reflecting my relaxed mood despite enough mental disorders for a lifetime.

It feels right to write here on Sundays. It feels refreshing to wait a whole week and then report here. And it feels soothing, calming, and life-affirming doing so, yes.

May your week be uplifting, creative, and worth remembering, dear readers and followers. May there be less complex tasks to sort out. And may deep inner peace be granted to us all.

As we will it, so mote it be.

Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again.

Please excuse me for not having posted this Friday.

To be quite frank, I haven´t slept well this week. I have been up earlier than usual, and my husband and I have had to tackle a lot of practical everyday stuff, the kind one simply has to get done whether we like it or not.

Monday, in particular, was a rough ride, as my online bank, without prior warning, ordered me to clear my browser so that I could have spent hours re-establishing the growing number of user names and codes that we all have to use in today´s modern online world.

As it happens, I found a faster solution; the security issues, however, make me wonder. I feel overwhelmed by the mere thought of working my way out of unnecessary trouble stemming from the outside world.

So, I save my resentment to dealing with banks, payment days, and paperwork to the next payment day. Yet it almost ruined my day, mainly because of the ludicrous amount of time spent on needless nonsense, insulting everybody´s intelligence.

Tuesday was equally filled with the task of storing away Christmas ornaments and, at the same time, tidying up in my creative dens all over the house.

Then came Wednesday, and something began to stir in my body, mind, and soul. I´m trying to transfer the many volumes of my Book of Shadows to a digital version on the laptop and cell phone.

Arthritis has caught up with my hands, so that it takes too much time to write so much as I do. And to say the least, I have to think creatively, for my hands hurt lesson the keyword than with paper and pen.

But I will keep writing some by hand; only the best material will pass for my handwritten quality pages, may it be a beautiful poem, a drawing with an inscription, or a ritual worksheet.

It is a long-term project, as I have created a lot in the five years, I have lived as a practicing, solitary cottage witch.

Thursday was busy as hell and back, and on Friday, my energy ran low. My mood, however, is to the faster side, where the critical issue is to maintain at least some focus so that my racing thoughts don´t run off with me.

I, therefore, decided not to write a blog post until today, Sunday. I needed a break, a couple of days to recover, work in-depth with my Book of Shadows, only replaced with the daily chores and much-needed sleep in the afternoons.

My first ritual in the new year will be the celebration of the first Full Moon and, at the same time, our copper wedding, which in the Danish tradition encompasses not less than twelve years and six months of marriage.

January 18, 2022, the day itself will be marked with a brunch with our closest friends. The witchcraft ritual is scheduled for the following morning, just for my husband and me.

Better late than never, I discovered a harsh, however important, truth when I went through five years of practicing witchcraft. Reading thoroughly through my written rituals, I can see a pattern of disruption until we finally, last year, got the necessary courage and determination to end a toxic relationship.

And it was the right decision; it always will remain so.

I´m also working on my list of new creative projects for my diversion strategies whenever my bipolar disorder and four anxiety disorder decide to play tricks with my body, mind, and soul.

As I´m writing this, I´m at the same time diverting myself from an annoying feeling of restlessness. Until recently, it has haunted me in the early evening hours, but now it seems to visit me in the afternoons.

Writing helps me re-focus and concentrate my mind so that racing thoughts and the false sense of excess energy won´t be as big an issue as if I didn´t act right away on my mental impulses.

This week was also filled with happy visits to and by good people. I helped one of them gather wood for her fireplace. She suffers particularly from arthritis, and her hands are so much worse than mine.

I grabbed a couple of days out of the calendar when Friday came along. Recovery is not only to do in case of an emergency, an accident, or a coincidence. I need to often recover due to my mental disorders and physically due to severe lower back pain.

And it has been soothing, calming, and relaxing to do just that. So now, I´m ready for yet another new week with whatever life may find amusing to throw at me.

By living in the present moment, being creative in everything I do, and using myself as a living example to myself and others, I´m at peace.

I have fought my way through life so far, and I will continue to fight for the rest of my life. I stand up for myself and my loved ones, I work hard to obtain my lifetime goals of becoming the best possible version of myself, and I dare to speak up about my weaknesses and strengths.

Better late than never, I have found a place to name home. I´m happy and content with my life, my loved ones, and the conditions under which this fairy tale is possible.

Brutal honesty, common decency, and hard work. If I want something to happen, well, then I must work hard to reach my dreams. Nothing comes for free in this world, perhaps except wasted time doing tiresome everyday chores like online banking and equally tedious paperwork.

May your week be merry, filled with joy, laughter, and happiness, dear readers and followers. May the Sun soon grow in power, may my fairy tale life continue to surprise and impress me, and may the people of this fragile world find deep, inner peace.

As we all will it, so mote it be.

Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again.