Sacred Mothering.

Mothering gets a tough rap, even in the pagan community. There is a trend at the moment for the consciously childless to attack the very notion or idea of mothering. They often twist their arguments so they too have this title, without of course, mothering. Mothering is beneath them, unwanted, revolting even, the cause of all the suffering of the world. How dare people bring a child into this over populated world? How dare they find it spiritual and rewarding? How dare they tell us smugly, "you don't understand."?
The issues they speak of, of course are complicated and have many causes. Statistically when poverty is less the children per woman tends lower significantly. If we want to tackle the over population problem globally then we need to address poverty not look women accusingly screaming "If you can't feed 'em, don't breed 'em". 
I was a young mother, at 22. I had been to university and was working and living with TK running a pub. We were very much in love and wrapped up in ourselves to notice the storm on the horizon. TK got fired and in one sentence we were jobless, homeless, and rather messed up. We went from friends spare room, to friends spare room, when we settled in a shared house in Crewe. We were still planning our wedding, tiny as it was. Neither of us was working and for the first time I saw TK illness, the demon D surface. At this point I found out I was pregnant.
"Friends" I had thought I could count on evaporated. My family did the same. Many people, mostly women told me two things. I should "Make TK snap out of it!" and I should "Get rid of it."
While I didn't agree I didn't feel I could argue. I couldn't find the words to say. I didn't yell at them or even cry. I am not anti abortion but I had seen what it did to my friends in Uni. It destroyed good relationships. It left women hurting in ways I couldn't explain. I also felt this child, within my body was made in love. With the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, how could I destroy that? I didn't have terribly high expectations of mothering, my own mother had sadly seen to that. We got hitched, quietly and with little fuss. Finally in 8 months that seemed like forever we had a tiny house and TK got a job. My own mother turned up with a washing machine then vanished again. I didn't have a great birth experience either. I had an emergency cesarean section under general anesthetic and was in agony for months after the surgery. Still I was in awe. Something happened. Something happened within me. Something powerful and primitive and strange. I felt like I had been living in a house all of my life only to discover another whole huge space that had been there the whole time. I was a mother. The responsibility I felt could have crushed the old me, but this whole me, was different. Stronger, meaner even, calmer, full of knowing. I was me, but I had new depth.
I could have, in theory got a better job than TK, yet he allowed me to explore this mothering space, and my child, our beautiful baby. She was bald as a cue ball and with deep inquiring eyes. She was full of person well before she was born. This was no "blank slate". This was an old soul watching me, wanting me, expecting me to do it right. I didn't want not to be near her. Though she gave me little choice. As did anyone else. That first year I barely saw another living soul. At the time it made me more than a little crazy but in hindsight the bounding we forged is still with us.
I was offered some working doing readings for a couple of weeks. It never crossed my mind to palm her off or have someone else sit for her. She just came with me, as always. It must have seemed very strange looking back but it seemed the most natural thing in the world for me.
We didn't have a lot of money and while TK's folks helped out in bits her and there my family just didn't. At this time TK got a better job and we though that we wouldn't want mini witch to be an only child. We figured if we started end of August I might conceive by Christmas. Two weeks later....I was pregnant with daughter number two. We moved again, but it might surprise you even now someone felt they had the right to tell me to abort this child too. Everything for the first time in a long time was perfect. When our second daughter was born, perfect and healthy, our family was complete. Now two children under two is no easy thing but I loved it, every single second of it. I made my own play-dough, sang song, changed nappies, invented the tidy-up game, it was heaven. I was still teaching Craft. My magick was not dormant or "used up" with domesticness. The reverse was true. I was able to tap into this mothering power and it was amazing. I remember breastfeeding in a forest surround by green bracken. My students and I got rather lost that day.
One of the things I found annoying was how people thought they had the right to look through me. They decided as a "breeder" I was a non person. They decided that what I did was worthless. That raising my own children was at best distasteful at worst "a waste". People didn't feel they need to be respectful of my choices or view as a whole person, I was "only a mother." As though this was not a good, holy, wholesome thing to do. Often I was treated somewhere between village idiot and leper. I had lost the right to an opinion because I had been "domesticated". I was no more important that cattle.
The term "yummy-mummy" had yet to be coined and it was neither fashionable or cool to be a parent.
The one morning I woke up, was changing mini witch and brushing my teeth. TK screamed from downstairs.
Our youngest child was dead.
There are no words.
For the sake of this blog for me, mothering became even more important. Mini witch, the "it" I should have "got rid of", became the reason to get up, to breathe, to eat. She saved my life. Those wise eyes, kind words, a little Goddess in her own right, she held my hand and asked me to read to her. To sing. And so I lived. I healed, very very slowly. Mothering has a link with biology but it is so much more than that. Mothering is the care for and raising of children. It is holy, full of meaning and emotion. It is spiritual. It is opening your whole being to the well being of someone else. It is to dwell in a place between, out of time and yet within it. All you do will echo (and don't do) down the ages. The songs you sing. The way they learn to cook. How you wash their delicate skin will live on in how they wash their children.
When I sing of the Great Mother and her arms around me, I know a little of how she feels. The unconditional love that flows, despite the pointless, silly, and mean things we do and say. No matter the tantrums or tears. When we are wrapped in her arms none of those things matter. She sees us as we are and loves us anyway. My own mothers love was always distant and unconnected. Through mothering I found this connection within myself and with the Divine. I see the holy Maiden, dancing in rain. I feel the holy Mother in every beat of my heart, and I feel the Crone's gaze with every word I write in my note books and Books of Shadows. 

This is before the biopsy.

If none of this makes sense I am sorry and I am huge pain meds....So when this all went down and I was lying in a bed with 15 people yelling at each other, squeezing bags and bags of saline into me and all that. I had this moment where I was falling, and I thought...."Oh I'm dying." The same way you might say you had missed the bus {or three if you are David}. In fact what with the good drugs and all that it was only really when they doctor who did the biopsy the next day read my notes and glibblys quips, "I see you were in a bit of pain last night!" Up until that point while I had been in pain and so on but I was serene and the like. Now luckily for dr Smuch I was strapped to about 15 things and I know I throw like a girl. I still looked at my orange juice as a weapon to throw at his head. That moment was when I knew...oh I am not going to die then. I am not angry with him anymore, I did politely but firmly (in front of his boss) tell him he had been flippant and glib, and it was not okay for him to have been either. (he pouted like a toddler) Other than dr Smuch everyone was brilliant, even the cleaning and support staff. The two doctors who performed the angiogram were amazing (and very funny too). Thank you for all the love, light and blessings you have sent my way. I needed them and I probably still do. I am glad to be alive! Glad to be home! Glad to have friends like YOU!!! Glad I throw like a girl...okay so you know what I mean! Thank you for all the help, support and so on you gave TK. He has been wonderful

In my dream.

We are preparing a space for more people, many more people than usual. The day is warm, sunny and bright. Other people are worrying if we have enough chairs, if they match and so on. We go outside to mediate. I am wearing cool summer clothes. The ground is terracotta stones. We sit in the shade. Someone else is leading the meditation. He puts his hand on my shoulder.
"I always meditate so well around Lucy. Why is that?"
I say softly without looking up.
"I am the desert."
The people continue to chatter. A large beetle that is also not a beetle comes across my lap.
"Look, see! I could never be that focused. Urg that disgusting thing on me!"
Everyone laughs and chatters again, mostly voices the same opinion.
"The beetle is meditation."
Some of the women want to kill the bug, because it might sting them, bite them, get into their dresses.
I say
"The beetle is the meditation. Do I crush it because of what it might do. Do I take it's life on my idea of what is good or holy? Do I throw it away because it's lessons are hard or unexpected? The beetle is the meditation.
I sit and watch the beetle run over my lap.

Protection

 So how do you protect yourself from the pollution of other people? Well lets break this down shall we. For a start this absolves people of taking the responsibility for what they are drawing to them. Magick 101: Like attracts like. This is called sympathetic magick. The thoughts you think, the feelings you radiate, send out a signal and will draw to you what you give the most power to. In a spell or ritual your focus and energy will (or should be) honed to a point. At home, on the bus your mind wanders or is not focused on what thoughts you are thinking. Your thoughts are no less magickal at this time than when you are doing Craft. All thoughts have power. This is why learning to focus your mind, and daily practice are the two most important lessons I teach. The quantity and quality of your thoughts are within your control. While other peoples energy, thoughts and feelings can linger like smoke on your aura, mostly a simple cleanse will do. A smoke wash, some salt water, some essential oils maybe?

If you want a space that only allows the energies you want around you in a space, such as your home or temple, then wards and guardians are a good idea. You will still need to pick up a broom and clean the space regularly but the big stuff will just not pass through. All sorts of wards from Theban runes, spells, witch bottle, gargoyles and so on can help protect your home. Herbs and seeds scattered around the doors can keep the general dirt away. Fennel and mustard are a good combo for that. Salt is an excellent cleanser and protector too, just to have on an altar or around your space. You can mix it with herbs and oils for specific work if you need to. The thing is most people invite the trouble in. They worry, they stew, they draw it too them. Once you let go of this tendency, once you change your thoughts attacking you is much harder. If you evict this person from inside your head everything else is just cleaning.

Going round in circles.

The Gods and Fae really do bring everything I need. Even if I can not always see it. I was reluctant to embrace another student but now it looks like I might have two. What with the book, the Youtube stuff and everything it seems like a lot but it also is....perfect.

Last night I showed my potential students a circle for the first time. It was nothing short of beautiful. The power and beauty was moving. So much so that they missed the last bus home. Still there was plenty of cake. A little blessed wine too. TK just being there meant that we had a perfect elemental balance in the circle. 
Today I have had a post-magick fug (also from lack of sleep) but it has gone now. 
A circle is such a powerful symbol, it is moving but still. It surrounds. The wheel turns. Celebrating that with others and giving them the opportunity to grow, and for me to grow (teaching is never a one way street) I feel so blessed. Also G* has spoken about working in circle with me again. To "kick the rust off" ritual and spirit based work. As always he was late, he will turn up. In all time we worked Craft (on and off 12 years now) together we have taught each other so much. I haven't worked on the new book much this week but I know I just need to keep writing.
So the circle turns and we keep learning.
Bright Blessings xxx

Dissolving.

So it has already (at 10.21 am) been a bit of a weird day. Now weird my bread and butter. Weird is my normal so for me to even notice well...I woke up the usual time and climbed over TK who barely moved. I did contemplate going back to bed but figured I could meditate on a large (and I do mean large) cup of tea. So in an effort to promote the book I had added or asked to join a lot of pagan group on my work facebook page. I know it was stupid. I know it isn't good for me, but there I did it anyway. So I ended up talking about Christianity, the Early Church, Judo-pagan origins of things well before I was even properly awake. Honestly those places turn me rather manic-depressive. I swing swinging from heart warming to homicidal and then depressed all in about three posts. Then there were the Michael Gove pin cushion/ poppets that made me laugh.I was cackling. (UK education minister/moron of EPIC proportions. I know I am likely to be all over the shop today. My much afeared kidney biopsy was cancelled at the last minute (bag backed and everything) yesterday. *shakes fist and incompetent people* So my whole week is kind of oddly empty, as I would still have been in hospital today. I have no desire to focus my mind today. I desire to dissolve into a myself, my moon bleed (Oh Goddess you have a sense of humor) and peaceful music. I will just become water. I danced a little swaying into that rhythm. The dog has been very good today, even if she does pollute my lovely lavender oil scent with dog fart. The mini witch has only just pried from her bed too.
Blessings xx 

Not-so-imaginary Friends

As a child I always saw spirit. Sometimes that feeling of being watched made me scared. I couldn't find the words to the grown ups, most of whom didn't want to listen anyway. As a mother of a mini witch, if you have a child bothered by the things they see, feel or know I would suggest.

Talk about it. 
Children are smarter than we give them credit for. Make it a story.

"Once upon a time there was a boy/girl who was magickal, and they could do anything in their dreams..."

Songs and Games
Kids won't remember, especially when scared complicated protection spells. Here are some simple sing-song rhymes.

"Circle, circle, round and bright, keeps me safe day and night."

 "Shoo, Shoo, go away, I am busy! I can not play." 

"In my dreams, I did see [what they saw] I don't mind they can't hurt me."

"In the candle, I can see [what they see] looking at me. They say [what they say] and now I say I am done!" (blow out candle.)

Kids smell fear.
Any teacher will tell you that kids can tell if you are scared. In a schools setting this can be anarchy. At home, if you are scared they will be frightened. Accept that this little one is seeing things that are beyond their years and are overwhelmed enough! Let go of your own fear. Accept and love them for who they are.

Sleeping space.
   Soft music that plays all night, chamomile hot chocolate (you make up the chamomile tea then use it to make the instant hot chocolate) a lavender foot rub and an empowering bedtime story help settle the child that usually finds sleep frightening. I would often cast a circle around my daughter room if we were going to being ritual that night. I just wanted her to have a nice bubble of peace and sleep around her, so our ruckus wouldn't wake her.

Make a protection charm
It is important you don't just give it to them and that they help make it because this is about the child feeling helpless, which is frightening. Allow them to feel that this is something they can control.
You can chose something sparkly with lots of glitter and sweet herbs, or something ugly to scare stuff away.
You can use felt and they can draw the pretty faery, or gruesome goblin (or monster) and stuff it with glitter hearts for love, written "happy thoughts" (or awful thoughts like homework, sprouts and snot) you can add sweet herbs like rose petals (or St Johns wort which is "pongy"). Then you sew it all up and then get them to hang it in their room where it will only allow good to come in or where they will scare the bad things away.They will know "where the bad stuff comes in".

Keep talking
When things settle down grown ups tend to forget that kids will still need to talk about their dreams and their experiences. I learned as a child "these are things we don't talk about". All my family see or experience stuff but it left a gap between us. Keep those lines of communication open.

I hope some of this helps. Blessings xx      
I do not own this image it is Brian Froud. 

The Power to Harm, the Power to Heal.

Curses, and hexes and attacks OH MY! I am no saint, I am a witch and I think a witch should know how to curse someone when it is needed. I curse generally when someone is harming an innocent, a child, and animal, someone vulnerable and in need. I do not feel bad about this.

When the guy next door threw his wife down stairs and broke her leg (I did call the police) she didn't leave and neither did he. There were 2 children in the house at the time. I cursed him. I cursed him because all mundane ways to stop him were at an end.I cursed him because nobody else gave a crap. I cursed because I grew up around that kind of violence and nobody should know what that sound is through a wall.
The curse was a weakness curse. That the more violent he was the weaker physically he would get.
All is now quiet next door. Oh I hear music sometimes but that is all...
I have had friends recommend me for my curse work. When a friend of a friend had been ordered by the court to allow her kids to have visitation across state lines to a "man" who had put her in hospital three times. Now I could have used a protection spell. However that would not GET TO THE CAUSE. It only treats the symptom. I called on the Dark Mother. I cursed him to be seen as he really is and punished. Well he got loaded, got into a bar fight and ended up in jail (where he belongs.) Kids safe, Mom safe. Ta da! 

People curse themselves and others all the time. If you haven't a good word to say about someone and you send "healing" at them that is either going to just plain fail, or turn into what you really mean...which is probably really mean.
A well written curse makes the world a better place. Keeps the little chicks safe. Brings back the balance of power. It isn't about "getting even" or "showing off". When you did the super positive spell to get that job or meet that special someone, someone else lost out. That doesn't mean you can not use magick to make your life better. You should use all the energy, talents attention and joy to enjoy your life and not feel guilty about that. With power does come responsibility. With strength and compassion comes balance.
In terms of healing to harm ratio I am about 10 to 1. For every ten healing, positive, fertility, abundance work I do; I do one f*$k off, shut up,  go crawl under a rock. 
In truth I have been slow lately and I haven't done left hand work because I haven't needed to.
Oh and while I am at it a hex isn't always a curse it is a type of drawing/symbol spellwork which as always is neutral. They are often used to protect buildings and barns. 

Talking about me.

I am not the biggest fan of talking about myself. I hate C.V's and the like and worked based bios make me squirm in very uncomfortable way. I believe I call it crawling up my own arsehole. So the fact that I sat down, bit the bullet and wrote about me, all be it in the third person was a big achievement. To sweeten the medicine I asked students and friends to post comments about me. It was beautiful.
 So here is my new bio with some quotes from real people.

Lucy Drake is a psychic medium, witch, teacher and writer. She has been studying and teaching her Craft for over 20 years. She grew up in rural Wales and has always had a deep spiritual connection to nature, animals and magick. Her chaotic and unusual childhood was often brutal but it gave her great compassion and many skills beyond her years. Lucy has always done magick and tried to match her “knowing” with books. From a Welsh family with Irish roots Lucy has many creative talents, from painting, poetry, dance and music, none of which were especially note worthy in a very artist house hold. She started to meditate at the age of 9, reading cards at 14, and healing at 16. At 18 she began working with local mediums in small circles and learned how to control her gifts.

Lucy has done private readings, psychic  fairs, house clearing s, healings (of all kinds) weddings (handfastings), blessings and charms, as well as ritual Craft since 2000. She has run workshops of Inner Goddess work, healing with crystals and divination. She has run 2 covens and had many students and teachers. While her pagan Craft has very strong Gardnerian roots she has explored many other paths, especially Celtic Craft and working with Fae as she did as a child.

Last year Lucy started work on her first book which she is working at getting self published. 

The Key: Opening the doorway to Magickal Practice, is a book compiling many years of teaching practice to give people a tool kit for magick pagan practice. The Key, is a magickal manual to unlocking your own potential. It is practical, insightful and allows the student of any level to look at their path with new eyes. There are assignments, poems, prayers, mediations of many kinds with a support and warmth that a seasoned teacher gives. Regardless of your place under the pagan umbrella there is something within this book can teach you. It treats the student holistically to allow greater balance with both ritual and non ritual magickal life.
What others have said about Lucy Drake.

“The author of this took my casual curiosity and helped educate and guide me through my first steps into this wide world, personal strife and day to day nonsense. As a teacher and a friend I cannot thank her enough. A worthwhile investment for anyone hoping to take their first steps or push the craft.” Rosie-

“As a close personal friend of Lucy, I can vouch for this woman's amazing skills and gifts! I started my journey with her 6 years ago when she came to my shop to do a reading for me. That reading turned into an entire day of laughter and joy that quickly turned into a best friendship and sisterhood. She is a wonderful friend, mother, wife, sister and WITCH!” B-

“[Lucy is].. loving, fun, have a wicked sense of humour, super intelligent, generous, random acts of kindness, have a great way of teaching people things and helping them to figure things out for themselves..” Emily-


“This lady has a magik heart and magikal hands! If you want to know about magik. Real, practical, from the heart and from the head, Lucy is the person you go and see. Unless, of course, you just turned round and she was there already, because you needed her, because she knows. This lady doesn't just excell in her craft, she can help you to do the same. Nuts and bolts, wonderment, traditional craft or 'fly by on the seat of your pants' spur of the moment stuff. Lucy… does it all and she does it magnificently.” Angie-

“Lucy is an amazingly compassionate and caring person, clever and knowledgeable. l know there is a lot l can learn from Lucy and l know it will be at the very least a lot of fun.” David-

Books, Salt and a naughty dog.

I have been attempting to write more of book 2 today. I got to a mediation/assignment and I realized that a picture would be best (how to draw pentagrams and why you should). Now you know my dog isn't...bright, but certain things make her even more stupid than usual. One of those is the sound my phone camera makes when I am taking pictures, well phone doing anything makes her whine and bark. After several failed attempts due to general dog based butt nugget-ry she nipped my skirt. Mummy is not very happy. She gets placed in doggy time out. She has now come out. The photos came out well. Moon salt is lovely to make.

Mini witch was very good as my hand model.

 Dog has had her cushion taken from the sofa and put on the floor.

Honestly I have no idea how anyone could do anything without dogs, children and husbands making it difficult! I mean, where would the challenge be if you were just allowed to sit down and write!

Dancing in The Rain

I have spent the last few days running here there and everywhere. It has been the best fun. I have been filming the video for my Kickstarter project. Every night I collapse into my bed like the dead but it is just so good! I missed everyone at home, but most especially my dog.I know she isn't the brightest mutt but she always keeps me company while I am writing. I have got a fair chunk of the NEXT book done this week too. I am also fielding phone calls from the hospital who want a piece of my kidney and I am really not sure I want them to take any. Major surgery?! I'm BUSY damn it! *scowls*
Still I had a lie in this morning (well I got up and build an altar, cleansed and prayed while mini witch and big hairy witch slept). They are so sweet when they are sleeping. I gave cuddles and coffee to wake them up (no evil bean for the mini witch).
So it was just me and my dog cuddled on the sofa. Bliss. Not for long though I will be headed back to see my good friends for moral support and Vimto during the editing process. I need to chill a bit today though, I can feel my heart is not happy. My sister is coming over this week. I feel more at peace with that than I have in a long time. Today is all about surrender and love. I can lean into the support of my magickal friends and family. Just to held in TK's arms for a while will make me feel amazing.

I trust the good I am given and spread the love.

Being a Spiritual Teacher

Sometimes I irritate myself with the way I seem to step into "teacher". My Mam was a teacher and it always annoyed me when she "went into teacher". I suppose home educating doesn't help, I am ALWAYS teaching. I think maybe this comes from my love of learning. Nobody has complained, I am blessed with so many people who "get" me. Sometimes I look back at myself in the third person and try and analyse myself. Sometimes this is post-people paranoia, was I too this, was too little of that. Sometimes it is just a portal to allow me to look at myself and the world differently. I know a lot. Not as much as some, more than others. I study, I question, I quest. I see patterns and threads that link. Sometimes I can't quite join them, but I feel the pull like static between two or more ideas. I am pretty sure there is a link between the psychology of narrative and the use of the symbolic in ritual setting and context. I just haven't quite found the words yet. Maybe ritual and liminal places of the lucid allow us to re-write our narratives, move our frames of reference, not only in terms of group culture but on a personal psychological level. Maybe. (Reading Victor Turner and Dorothy Rowe/ Clarissa Estes)
You see, I am a girl who thinks really deep thoughts. Questions. Reframes. Analyses not only the words I have read but the ideas. I want other people to think too. Not that people who think are better to teach, they often fight their knowing more than most. You can not give them your ideas (I am not precious about that) but ask them questions.
I am not better than my students.I am no better than anyone (different) I have a natural talent for this way of life. I have a mind that turns trauma into a creative force. I push myself out of my comfort-zone. This doesn't make me a saint. I am an imperfect person walking along the road. This sometimes disappoints people. I have finally figured out that that is their problem. Not mine.That I am an ocean that doesn't like and is not easily confined.
Being a teacher by proxy (in a book) is harder and also less difficult. Less control, but less irritations.I want the lessons to be learned well before the student moves on, and I can not control when they turn the page, or even if they turn it! I want them to be challenged, delighted, to see the world and themselves with news eyes. I won't ever get to know the failures or breakthroughs, see that moment when someone "gets" it. Maybe this teacher mentality is exactly who I am, and what I am supposed to be.
 

Authenticity.

I am very lucky. I am a dog owner and I am sure that it keeps me grounded in real emotion and feeling. If I can meditate while the dog uses me as a piece of furniture, barks at the phone, cries because she isn't getting cuddles; then I know how to meditate in the quiet. I don't work under an exotic name (Lucy is what everyone calls me) not that a pretty names are wrong, I am just in a place where being me, is worthy. I don't want to waste my energy, mental, emotional or spiritual by needing to be the "perfect" version of myself. I have room to grow. I make mistakes. I get upset over stupid things and find odd things funny. How will my daughter ever be comfortable in her own skin if I am not? How will she feel herself worthy if she doesn't learn how? It is a process, and a moment. Right now, where and who and how I am is worthy, but I have an awareness of where there I can grow. I have to speak with an open heart, an honest one too. I am a witch, a psychic, a writer, but I am a woman, a mother, a friend. At the moment I am so blessed. Yet I can see that my blessing come from hard work, from thinking clearly, from letting go of "drama" patterns, it makes it hard to watch people, friends, family, drawing misery into their lives. It makes me sad. I see them focus on the bad, focus on crappy people and crappy behaviour, and then they mimic it and feel victimized. I do not always have the words. Sometimes even when I do, I am not always sure I should voice them. Change is a journey. It can be painful. They do not always thank you for their pain. Still this is me, trying to type something profound while the dog eats her ass against me. 

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