Spiritual Anarchy: If it Works for You, it Works.

Hello to all of my tarot, witchy, pagan peeps!

Today, I’m going to talk spiritual anarchy, or as I like to put it, connecting to the All however the f*** you want and in any way that works for you. ¬†As a pagan neophyte, I’ve¬†spent the last six months seriously hitting the books, hoping to find insightful, creative practices that I could incorporate into my own. ¬†Thankfully, I’ve discovered¬†many, and my spiritual journey has progressed by leaps and bounds as a result. ¬†I fully endorse the research method when it comes to growing a sustainable practice that works for you. This endorsement comes with a caveat, however: this madness ain’t written in stone (even if it is), and even if it’s¬†been elevated to dogma-like status by the community, that doesn’t mean you have to practice it. ¬†Have an aversion to herbs? Ditch them. ¬†Crystals don’t leave you feeling warm and fuzzy? Set them aside and return only when the spirit moves you. Don’t enjoy the concept of deity? ¬†Look out the window, smile at the universe, and take it however you see it. ¬†If it looks like it works and it feels like it works, than it works. ¬†If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. ¬†And that’s totally okay.

I happen to enjoy herbs. ¬†I like the way they smell, I like using them to create incense blends, and I like adding them to food to create depth and nuance in flavor. ¬†I have a decent-sized collection of dried herbs, and I make use of them fairly frequently. ¬†Due to my herbal fixation, I figured that I should try growing some of my own; perhaps I’d experience a deeper attachment to them, and that attachment could expand my spiritual practice; hell, maybe I’d even be able to call myself a green witch. ¬†I purchased the seed packs, the egg carton-like growing containers, the seed starter mix and a book on growing herbs. ¬†Armed with my arsenal, I set to work, and as I tended to my little beauties, I produced visions of the garden that I’d create in my yard. As days transitioned into weeks, I managed to produce a mere few leggy seedlings, but I remained undaunted. ¬†It wasn’t until I awoke to find them all dead one morning that I was forced to accept the truth: I have a black thumb. ¬†I’ve always had a black thumb. ¬†I thought that if I didn’t produce a luscious, verdant herb garden, I’d be less of a witch, and as I gazed at my fallen brethren, I actually felt like less of a witch. ¬†And that, my friends, is bull****.

The reason this path appeals to me is that it¬†lacks dogma, authority, and strict methods of practice. ¬†I’ve always been a bit of a maverick; I’m forever devoted to blazing my own path come what may simply because it feels authentic and genuine, and it makes me feel like I’m alive. ¬†But¬†I came so vulnerable and green to paganism that I was primed to accept suggestions as law, even if they¬†didn’t truly resonate with my intuition and beliefs. ¬†This is dangerous. ¬†Once we begin making compromises to our spirituality–arguably the most personal and formative aspect of ourselves–what’s to stop us from compromising elsewhere? ¬†There’s no need to force ourselves into molds that don’t match our gorgeous, unique curvatures. ¬†Your spiritual practice is yours alone, and what you choose to incorporate into it is your choice. ¬†What you choose to leave out is also your choice, and you have only yourself to answer to. ¬†The pressure to conform, whether spiritually, socially, or otherwise, is at best a nuisance, and at worst¬†a crushing force of soul destruction. ¬†Your practice isn’t too fluffy, isn’t too dark, isn’t too connected to a tradition or isn’t too eclectic. ¬†If it resonates with who you are and¬†assists your spiritual progression, it’s golden.

The same goes for the tools of your practice: they are yours to use however you decide. Many assert that a practitioner of tarot cannot possibly read for herself. ¬†Although I see where they’re coming from (we’re so immersed in our experience¬†that it’s difficult to assess our queries¬†objectively), I don’t necessarily agree. ¬†At the conclusion of my rituals, I lay down some cards to help me process¬†the thoughts and experiences that I had. These readings always add an element of clarity, and ultimately invite me to examine my practice in more depth. ¬†I don’t use an athame to create sacred space; I’ve found that my imagination and my hands work just fine. ¬†Sometimes, however, I feel the need to use a crystal. ¬†And when that happens, I use one.

Magickal traditions and literature are phenomenal resources for the nascent and seasoned practitioner¬†alike. ¬†They’ve been instrumental to my practice, and will continue to be. ¬†I approach them, however, as theories: if they seem promising, I’ll test them. ¬†If they jive with my spirit, I’ll adopt them. ¬†If something’s slightly off, I’ll modify it to suit my needs. ¬†And if it simply doesn’t resonate, I scratch it and return to the drawing board. ¬†And if a theory sparks a new, vibrant hypothesis, fantastic. ¬†When the path of spiritual evolution pushes us to test our boundaries, we should feel excited, not ashamed, to do so. ¬†And when we strike out into new territory, we inspire and empower others to do the same.


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