Woo Woo Witchy

Monday 11/1/21: Look at all those ones! There’s magic in numbers for sure! Numerology is something to circle back to this year. Waning Crescent (10%) Moon in Libra

Today began with a butterfinger hangover. I’ve (mostly) avoided candy and definitely the cheap chocolates for the past several months in an effort to get healthier. But for some reason, Halloween chocolates and in particular, butterfingers… well, took me awhile to wind down last night and this morning came at the regular Monday morning time and I’ve mustered through a mini-Butterfinger hangover. Thankful it was only a few of the mini’s and I’m not likely to have any more until – next year.

Dia De Los Muerdos is a holiday tradition from Mexico honoring deceased loved ones and ancestors. Like Halloween, this holiday happens when the veil between the living and dead is thin. 
All Soul’s Day or Day of the Dead (and a few other names) is similar. And very separate. The Catholics try to take credit but no. Pagans, like the Aztecs knew when the veil was thin. 

I do not wish to poke my privilege into appropriating a tradition that’s not mine but oh my goodness, the art and vibes of Dia De Los Muerdos!!! Maybe there’s some cross cultural influences within my memories. I am from Texas (former territory of Mexico) and my Latino great uncle married my grandmother’s sister. The time I spent at their home always felt loving and safe. Something I didn’t always get as a child so I felt that. But I can’t claim that my family ever celebrated any pagan holidays (besides Halloween and nothing like it is today) that hadn’t been stollen by Christianity.

Being respectful and honoring the keepers of particular traditions is important – and I adore Dia De Los Muerdos and the rich cultural beginnings from the Aztecs roughly 2500 years ago.

Among my dead ancestors are (in order of when they departed during my life):
Great granddaddy (on my maternal side) died when I was 6 weeks old. I don’t have any memories of him but I’ve heard a few stories and have a photo of him holding me. 
Big Daddy, my paternal grandfather died when I was 5-6. 
Ebbie, my maternal grandmother when I was almost 17. 
Granddaddy when I was almost 40 and Grandmother in my mid 40s. Granddaddy tried to be a gentleman and allow her to go first but it didn’t work out that way. 
I’ve lost 2 aunts and 3 uncles and 2 very dear friends.

Friends are the hardest to miss. 

Dad dying when I was 19 and he was just 44 – that’s likely impacted me the most. 

Honoring the dead – well that feels a bit tricky for me this year as I’m processing being raised as the scapegoat child in a dysfunctional family with my therapist and on my own mental health quest. Honoring people who harmed me feels problematic and hurts my stomach.

 
On the one hand I want to be able to honor them (Dad in particular) on the soul-to-soul level. However part of my healing includes honestly acknowledging that there was a lot of hurt and pain and general fuckery that I’ve lived through.

So I might just set this messy pot on the back burner and not even turn it on. (More on the burners tomorrow) 

Instead I’d like to remember the dear friends I was blessed to have in my life. 

Also, I can acknowledge the big picture – that I am the offspring of thousands. Some good, some not so good, a variety… all of humanity… we are related.

My heritage is nearly half German, half Irish and a bit of Scott in the mix – from both maternal and paternal sides – the same mix.

There’s some witchy stories from both sides too. For example – All of my female relatives report a strong sensitivity to anything around our necks. That’s too strange a coincidence to ignore.