I remember very strongly at that stage of my life, during the day I was fine, happy. I had awesome parents, my mom stayed home. I played, I napped, I ate, we went to visit my memere, and it was sweet and good.
But at night, when I was in my room alone, with no distractions, I would remember. I remembered a feeling, a place, somewhere before this place. I belonged there. Not being there hurt. So I called out in the night, like an SOS.
This went on for such a long time, with my mom and dad getting more and more upset, not to mention tired. They wanted to comfort me. I couldn't explain what I was upset about. And so it went, round and round.
I remember one night watching them stand in my doorway talking. I could feel their love, and also their fatigue, and how much it was hurting them that they couldn't seem to help me. I knew from picking up their feelings that I was upsetting them. So after that day I didn't call out to them at night anymore.
I would stack all of my stuffed animals around me on both sides so I was surrounded. Then, as I was trying to fall asleep and not be afraid, I would "talk to the magic." It was just a toddler's blathering at that point but I instinctively knew that someone was hearing me.
I did this every night for many years, more than I admitted to anyone, until finally everyone's advice to grow up and be a young lady finally chased away what they called "fantasy and pretend." I automatically assumed that my conversations at bedtime must be pretend, too. So, I stopped.
Or maybe another way of saying it, is that my psyche found another way to channel those feelings. It was at this time that my writing started. That was when my first efforts at short stories, diaries, journaling and making up stories and poems in my head really started. I remember later using a couple of the stories that I made up for assignments in English class, and my favorite teacher Mr. Ford said they were quite good. Mr. Ford was very handsome and so this made me very happy. But I digress…
It's actually really funny looking back now. Once I got old enough to play outside, I was always always out in nature, at my happiest in the woods, and I was always getting dirty. I loved climbing trees. Again, the "young lady" lecture, so my days of getting dirty eventually faded, too.
It's been funny over this past few years, as my path has changed and expanded to look back on these things.
I look back now as a 51 year old woman, and I see that I have always been seeking that feeling of safety, home and peace that I remembered as a toddler, the sheer bliss, the unconditional Love, the feeling of the place that I was "before."
Part of my path for the last several years has been working extensively with the angelic realm. This is something that sets me apart from some witches, although I do know some who also do similar work. It was a very tender, happy thing to realize who it was that I was actually talking with as I fell asleep each night as a tiny one when I was "talking to the magic."
Three out of four of our beautiful New England seasons, I can be found out in nature. I love being in the woods, hiking trails, touching the trees and breathing the air. I'm learning to grow herbs, and I'm playing in the dirt again!
I can look back now, and find touchstones, so many things that foreshadowed everything that has happened in the past five years. The universe is truly exquisite, and I'm just in awe when I look at how everything fits together.
I have really always been an "angel witch" - I have always been on this path, I just didn't realize it.
As time moves on, and I get older, the less emphasis I find I actually place on linear time. It's a tool that we need for modern life. But this exercise in remembering who and what I am? That's what living this life is really about.
Peace. Rhythm. Love. Home. Passion. Pleasure. Service. Joy. Authenticity. Better every day. Enjoying dozens and dozens of ways to "talk to the magic" every day. That's the plan.
What an amazing gift this life is.