Her Book of Shadows

Some nights, she takes her book, the one in which she shares the dreams of her soul. She records the spells she casts, and the results she begins to see. She calls her book her 'Book of Shadows', but truly it is also a book of light. She keeps it faithfully, and she has many.

She carries it wherever she goes, for it is a part of her soul. It carries the stories of her magicks, and the gifts she has been given. In it are the whispers of magick from the elementals, and the tales they have told her. In it are the ecstatic moments, captured for her to revisit, and remember, for times when she recalls what has happened to her, the experiences she has had, and she wonders if she has truly had them. And it is important to write it down, for remembering every detail is beyond any human mind, and time’s cycles pale the colours and dull the edges of even the most sacred experiences.

Her Book of Shadows will gather and keep safe her pilgrimages, her dreams, the messages from the animals, and the secrets they showed her. Within its pages are the maps she drew of the paths that led to the faery ring, to the fox’s den, and to the place where the first light hits a stone carved with strange symbols she has yet to understand. Her Book of Shadows is the place where she can draw them over and over, and come to know them. She writes down the meals she has cooked, the words spoken over the food, the herbs she added, and the direction she stirred the meal.

It all counts. Every moment. That is how a magickal life is lived. She was shown how to do this by an old wise woman, whose cottage she would visit, and who taught her the ways of the plants, and who, when she passed, gave her the gift of her own ancient book.

She brews the tea to sharpen memory, and she begins to write, so nothing is lost for the ones who will come after her. When she finishes a last page of ink upon creamy paper, her Book of Shadows spends some time with her, under the stars, before into her magickal library it goes.

Journalling. Writing down the days and nights. Recording dreams. Understanding magicks through writing about one’s experience of them. Keeping a Book of Shadows and Light or a grimoire.

Thinking it is unnecessary to record, trusting entirely on memory, or letting everything go. Feeling that if it is meant to be, it will be recalled. Forgetting that others in time can learn from one’s experience. Forgetting ingredients or ways to cast.