WITCHY MAMAS I CALL YOU FORWARD BY GAIL SCHOCK

"Prayer and wish casting became one and the same; they were in essence a conversation with God, our angels, guides, our inner wisdom, our sage, maven and all who surround us." 

Image from Kelsey Herbst IG @Kvlsvyhvrbst

Image from Kelsey Herbst IG @Kvlsvyhvrbst

Dressing up as a witch was my annual Hallowe'en choice; I’d learn something dark and mysterious by Scottish poet Rabbie Burns, practice my cackle and above all else spells. There were mud pies, jars of beetles and at times (and do forgive me for this) a bee in its own glass house. I was convinced if I could share a little of the gathered pollen glittering along the hind legs of this creature I could make all manner of magic. There were always petals from every flower in the garden and of course my book of doodles, poems and sketches. Today this would be my grimoire.

In truth I thought everyone was a witch, or at least had some sort of magical power. I was brought up as a spiritualist, death was a description for when loved ones ascended, they didn’t leave, I just simply couldn’t see them anymore. Lying was virtually impossible, as everyone always knew the truth. However this didn’t stop a rebellious teenage witch phase; I was less Sabrina and more Bellatrix.

"Try as I might to run from the family link and my own gifts, I could not, the world had gifts for me and I had to learn to work with them."

In drama class I improvised a woman burned at the stake, (I was thirteen and the experience was revealing). My classmates circled around me crying ‘witch, witch, burn her.’ I shouted for my life, this incensed the group, their shouts growing louder.  I feared the fire, all be it nowhere in the black box. Convinced of my impending doom, heat began to rise from my feet, but instead of fearing the flame I became it. Something ancient arose within me, filled me, called me to calm. My stance changed, chin tilted up, I remember running my hands through my hair, turning in the opposite direction to the class, laughing at their ridiculous attempt to stop me. I remember thinking ‘you have no idea’ and I began to murmur a spell. What I said or where it came from only my wise woman knows, but it worked. The crowd became quiet, my drama teacher looked impressed and slightly perplexed. Breathing heavily I knew I’d tapped into something. My power.

Prayer and wish casting became one and the same; they were in essence a conversation with God, our angels, guides, our inner wisdom, our sage, maven and all who surround us. Practicing the craft was less about cauldrons and cloaks and more about love and light. This was the blessing. In recent years I’ve tapped more fully into my witch self, dreaming of a garden filled with herbs for healing. The next day I was gifted a Naturopath course from a soul sister. Pondering how much knowledge we lost due to the witch burnings I’ve dreamt about my published books on the sisters lost to fire. As yet unwritten, they are lined up ready to be born.

There is a little of the witchy mamma in all of us, it saddens me to see her hidden amongst the ‘what if’s’ and ‘if I could only’s’ and the unconnected separation from soul, faith, love and joy. There is always a good time to gather our Sabrina, Glinda and Maxine, (the name of both a great white witch from the 1960’s and my own medicine mother). Run a warm bath, gather rose petals, rose quartz, lavender fresh or bottled and salt. As the water fills the tub, tear the petals from each flower stalk and say a wish, a prayer or call something in for yourself. Sprinkle in salt for protection, lavender to open the heart and place the rose quartz in the water. Surround yourself with candles, a glass of something delicious and warm the towels ready to wrap your ruby skinned body in later. Step into the water and surrender what you think life should look like and imagine what it can be when we work and live from our power. Here is home, here is hope, love perfumes inside here. Dwell not on what was, but what can be, pray, spell and trust all is well. Everything is already taken care of. And so it is. Amen.


Gail Schock is a Transformation and Happiness Maven, Soul Coach and Writer, bringing her lioness leadership and G Love to you and yours. For more info on where to find her check out gailschock.com. Follow GLove on Instagram and Twitter.