I published the story of how before I became a national poetry slam chick, I used to be a cringing poetry chicken. It’s all about using magic to move past what we are afraid of and how to claim what we really want.
I cringed inside every time he said it.
“This is Marya. She’s a poet.”
I was ashamed. His introduction made me feel like an imposter.
Even though I’d been writing poetry since I was young.
Even though I’d taken poetry workshop classes in college.
Even though I’d published literary magazines.
Even though I’d read and performed poems publicly.
Even though my poems had been published.
Other writers will understand. Something about calling myself a poet felt self-important. Pretentious. I didn’t feel like I deserved to be called a poet because I wasn’t a Great American Poet.
I tried to explain, “Poet, author, artist, musician… one does not just bandy these terms about.”
You can read the rest of it here at my Wholly Creative blog where I discuss some of the Hermetic principles of magic that helped me manifest what my heart really desired.
People’s eyebrows do The Wave when I tell them what I’m up to.
They seem intrigued (or maybe confused?) by the yoga-magic fusion that I practice in my writing. Many times I will have met someone in the more mainstream yoga world and when they find out that I practice magic, I watch their eyebrows do their thing.
Yoga and magic aren’t that different, really. They both work with subtle forces to bring about change. They both believe in the power of words.
Yoga philosophy holds not only that words are powerful and important but that language and sound is sacred. The sacred syllable Om brought everything into existence. As writers, our letters create sounds that spell words into existence. We manifest where there was nothing. They don’t call it “a spell” for nothing.
I’ve seen this sort of spelling happen over and over again in my life, where my writing meditations manifested new things and often a new world. In fact, these were often things beyond my wildest dreams.
Once during a waxing moon, I cast a spell for knowledge (I teach this spell in a writing workshop). It was a spell that had chosen me – that is to say, I had chosen the spell randomly allowing The Universe to tell me what work I needed to do in my life to become more aligned with my True Self and True Purpose.
In the seven days that I worked the spell, sitting in the roots of an old tree and recording its wisdom, not much happened except that my journal pages began to fill with smart observations expressed in poetic language. The last day, I finished the spell and I thought, “Well, I got some good writing.” And I thought that was it.
But that night, which also happened to be a lunar eclipse, I got more.
The phone rang. It was a call from my then-teenaged daughter who lived with her father, and he had done all he could to keep her from me and drive a wedge between us. But that night, my daughter was asking to come live with me.
Talk about knowledge! From that point on, I learned what it was like to be a daily parent rather than a weekend one. I learned that all the sacrifices that I had made to stay in my daughter’s life hadn’t been for naught. I learned to forgive myself for being young and poor and unable to fight for her when I left her father.
But it wasn’t just me who gained knowledge. My daughter did, too. Her studies, which had been stunted by depression in her father’s home, began to improve. With hope for something more than going to the local community college, she also began studying for the SAT. Based on the knowledge she demonstrated on that test, the University contacted us to say they would admit her if she had another semester of excellent grades.
And the magic continued to expand over the months. When we got the call six months later saying she was accepted to University, we literally jumped up and down and cried tears of joy.
What unfolded – the sudden reunion with my daughter and her rapid re-routing of her life course – was nothing short of a miracle. And that’s what a spell does for us: it gives us what otherwise seems too difficult or impossible. And this is just one instance of countless others where writing magic changed my life for the better.
It’s why I will always practice what I call Practical Magic for Writers. Not only do I manifest new writing, but I manifest wonderful life changes.
And just in case you were wondering, I shaped the writing from my spell for knowledge into a lyric essay, and it was recently accepted by Tiferet Journal of Spiritual Literature. Once set in motion, the forces of magic are unstoppable.