Not the sloppy joe, but still pretty spicy, with a generous helping of witchcraft.
In 2014, the Pew Research Center determined that there were 1.1 million Presbyterians in the United States, while also showing that there were 1.5 million people identifying specifically as witches, not just Wiccan.
The comparison is skewed, because the numbers of church going Presbyterians is much easier to attain, because churches keep records. Witches, on the other hand, are more difficult to nail down. The number is likely much, much higher.
-Tom Blueleaf
I've spent the last few months shoring up my protections, both in the real world, and online. For non-christians, especially anyone following pagan or pre-judaic beliefs, the USA is getting more and more scary, returning to the frenzy of the 1980s satanic panic. Christian commercials are popping up everywhere, congress is brimming with faith-based legislation, and “satanism” and “witchcraft” are being brought up again and again in legal circles all over the country.
My brothers and sisters, I urge you to seriously examine how public you want to be about it. Things are only going to get more banana-fucking-batshit in the next few years.
In the non-doom-and-gloom realm, spring has finally kicked in where I live. Aside from lighting a few candles, and leaving a few small offerings, Ostara and Beltane completely blew by us. It's been a stressful year so far. Work and home life have been overwhelming, and my partner has been very ill. She does seem to be on the mend though, finally.
The summer solstice is only weeks away, and my partner and I are planning on marking the day by camping as far out in the forest as we can manage, where we are unlikely to see other people, and spending the day having sex out in nature, in an open clearing. We have a location in mind, which we've used for this in the past. We're looking forward to it.
Speaking of nature, we have weasels here now. I saw several in the forest where we spent our Memorial day weekend. They've only appeared in the past few years. Before that, foxes and raccoons started showing up maybe 10 or 15 years ago. These are animals that were found several hundred miles south of us, but never in these mountains. As the climate shifts north and east, animals are moving with it.
It's interesting to watch it happen.
That's all I have for tonight.
Take care.
-Tom Blueleaf
As with just about everyone I know, I have mixed feeling about it. The end of the month begins the lunar new year of the snake, which symbolizes transformation and wisdom. With all of the potential horrors knocking on our doorstep this year, I intend to use this energy to learn and grow personally.
Everyone seems intent on keeping me up to date with every fucking horrible thing going on in the US, and everything Trump, his Trumpaloos, and the rest of conservative USA are doing. I know they're doing and planning terrible shit, and people are getting hurt and killed by it already. I promise you all, I know that. I don't need to know the details of every instance of it. I know it's happening.
For fuck sakes.
What this means for me, is that we need to learn to protect ourselves, and still try to live our lives and enjoy life in spite of it. I'm aware that for marginalized people, that's difficult. What choice do we have?
Anyway, sorry for the rant. It's what's on my mind.
I took a nice walk in the middle of a gentle, midday snow fall yesterday. I enjoyed it very much. I hope to spend more time in nature this year.
That's all I have. Happy Thursday.
-Tom Blueleaf
It's interesting watching this happen every year. Around mid-September, there is a slow uptick in the interest in witchcraft and all things witchy. The subreddits get very busy, witchcraft books (most of which are complete bunk) fill up shelves everywhere, and the most lovely witchy art starts appearing all over the place.
Then in early November, it all dies down, and the world goes back to generally hating witchcraft out of fear and ignorance. It doesn't help that the christians come out with their dukes up, ready to defend their culturally appropriated holiday against the nonexistent “war on christmas”, and to take advantage of the season to spread their bullshit.
On the one hand, I find all the clichés and misinformation annoying, but on the other hand, I do get a bit of an energy burst out of it every year. It always motivates me to learn something new, or change up something around my house. Also, I'm usually able to find supplies that are normally difficult to procure the rest of the year.
I have decided that I need to make a chest to store my books and supplies in. It's taken over several shelves in our closet. I've been on the lookout for reclaimable wood and hardware, and thinking through how I want it organized.
I'm now looking forward to #Yule, and sorting out what I want to do there.
-Tom Blueleaf
It's been an interesting couple of weeks of ups and downs. The partner and I celebrated #Samhain, and honored her dead sister. I set up an altar in our living room, and the partner cooked her sister's favorite meal. We set a place for the sister at the table, made an offering of plum wine and cake, and dished up a plate of food for her.
During the meal, partner told us stories about their childhood together, and other memories of her sister. After the meal, I cleaned up, and took the offering and the sister's plate, and buried it all in the front yard, to give it to the earth.
I expected it to be a tearful dinner, but my partner seemed to get that out as she was cooking the meal, and dinner was a happier affair. She seems to be a bit more at peace about her sister's death now, but I think this will be a regular thing on Samhain for a few years.
The following days, moving toward election day here in the US, were a bit depressing. I couldn't escape the feeling that it was going to go badly, very badly. I've felt that might be the case for the last year or so. When election day came and went, and went as I expected, I was not at all surprised, but too upset to feel validated that I'd been right. I wanted to be wrong.
The ramifications of this election, and the kicking off of #Project2025, are farther reaching than we can possibly predict. I have a lot of thoughts, the least of which is that this is what my country is, and always has been. Those of us that are not racist, not homophobic, not angry, not hateful, and not Christian... we are in the minority. The USA, as a collective, living thing, is the embodiment of all the worst aspects of humanity.
Rest assured, during the next world-wide conflict, WW3 if that's what you want to call it, the USA will not be the good guys. I do not want to still be in this country when that happens. Myself and my partner, my brother and a few of our cousins, have been laying plans since Bush Jr's second term. This has prompted us to start making some forward movement. We're at least five years out from being able to do much of anything, but we can start making preparations. Leaving this country is expensive, and a giant pain in the ass.
However, the biggest thing on my mind, the thing that led me to close this site down for a few days during a moment of panic, is that this is only going to encourage the resurgence of the #SatanicPanic. It's already in full swing, under the mask of QAnon and everything they have their tentacles into. With the proliferation of Wicca (I am not a Wiccan, just for the record), pagans, occultists, and all practitioners of Witchcraft have been lulled into a false sense of security and acceptance by society. At the moment, it's less dangerous to be a witch, but that is going to change. Project 2025 will make sure of that, and if they get their way with US law enforcement, we will see people sent to prison, or worse, for practicing.
I have never been “out”. Not ever. I remember very vividly what it was like being on the other side of the Satanic Panic, during the 1980s. Now I'm on this side of things, and I know what's going to be coming for people like me. We'll be the scapegoat again, the target of anger and hate, and now there is a digital paper trail for every witchcraft related thing you've ever purchased online, or in person with a credit card.
Something good did happen though. I got a visit from Sara last night. I was in a beachside town. I don't know if it was dusk, or just an overcast day, but it was gray that way. I was with some friends, none of whom I can remember. We were planning on spending the night there, and deciding who was going to room with whom. I was paired up with a woman, who I apparently knew, and she and I started heading for the building where we'd be sleeping. I think it was part of a motel.
We walked outside, and there was a sidewalk down a grassy hill to the street. We got a few steps down that sidewalk, and I turned to look at the woman, and there was Sara. Long dark hair, like last time. She smiled a big smile, and hugged me. That hug was particularly vivid. I felt her arms around me, smelled her hair against my face, and felt her warmth against me. It was a long, comforting hug.
We walked for a bit, talking. She joked with me, we both laughed. I don't remember all the details of the conversation, but she was just there to spend some time with me, and comfort me. The dream quickly moved on, before we arrived at our destination, and Sara was gone.
It worked. I woke up this morning, immediately sat up, and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I felt good, rejuvenated. It was Sara, without a doubt. I tried to recall as many details as I could. I should have written it all down, but I haven't kept a notebook by the bed in years. If I was in immediate danger, she would have told me. She didn't though. She was checking in on me, and that's all.
That hug, though, that really sticks out. I can't express just how unusually vivid it was, which is how it always feels when Sara visits my dreams.
The rest of the day has been a mixed bag. I ran errands, played video games, got this site back online, and did a bit of housework. The partner is feeling under the weather, so she stayed in bed, and played on the PS4 most of the day.
I've been slowly compiling a to-do list. I need to refresh the sigils around the house, and whip up a few jars for various purposes. I don't feel safe at work, and I've been contemplating putting a system of sigils around the building where I work, and burying a few jars. I didn't feel safe there during Trump's first term, and I feel even less so now.
Back at it tomorrow.
-Tom Blueleaf
It's been a rough year around our house. We've been sick constantly. We acquired another teenager a while back, and she brings home every bug going around town. Also, where I work, I deal with the public all day long. I read a few articles suggesting that everyone's immune systems have been weakened by #Covid, and my Dr said she thought that was the case as well. So I'm going with that.
The teenager came home sick a few weeks ago, then our oldest caught it, then my partner, and now me. We all tested negative for Covid, so it's some crud going around. I should be able to go back to work tomorrow though, hopefully.
#Autumn is in full swing, and we're afraid we're going to miss it because we're trapped in side with a cold. It's been raining for a couple of days, and there are a lot of bright leaves on the ground. I really want to go for a walk in it.
Maybe tomorrow.
-Tom Blueleaf
It's been a day. My partner is ill, work was exhausting, and I have spent the day pondering a small thing that happened last night, which I am certain was someone trying to tell me something. I have a pretty good idea of what the message was, but I may do a bit of #tarot before bed to see what the cards might say about it.
I've learned that, when these sorts of things happen, it's best to take a few days to let it simmer before acting.
Depending on how I sleep tonight, I may get up in the morning and take a dog for a sunrise walk. I need to collect a few things for #Samhain, and there is a forest not far from here where I'm sure I can find what I'm looking for.
My partner's sister died of Covid, two years ago this month. She lived across the country from us, which of course is where the funeral was held, so we were not able to attend. My partner has never had a chance to honor her sister's life, or observe her passing properly, so I think we'll do a bit of a remembrance ceremony for Samhain.
Also, I want to make a broom to hang over the front door, while I can do things like that without the neighbors freaking out.
Now, I think I'll mix up a white russian, and watch some old black and white TV shows.
-Tom Blueleaf
I'm aware of one other family member who is most certainly a witch, but more than likely has never thought of herself as so. That would be my Aunt. She is the youngest of my father's four sisters, and only fifteen years older than myself.
We've been very close my whole life, more so than I am with my parents. It's sort of an open secret that she just “knows things”, much in the same sense that I do. She typically knows who's calling without having to look, and on several occasions that I've been taken to a hospital in an ambulance, she's known almost immediately.
She knew, from two states away, when my grandfather died. She knew when one of her older sisters died. She claims to have had contact with both of them at their funerals, and that grampa still visits her from time to time.
She also has some superstitions regarding omens, luck, and personal energy.
The Aunt and I have never had an open discussion about any of this, although when we spoke on the phone recently, I mentioned in passing that a particular song was following me around, and then we spent fifteen minutes or so sorting out what the universe was trying to tell me. We didn't come to any solid conclusion, though. This discussion feels a bit like an open door. Like, perhaps I should start hitting her with more witchy randomness, and just see where the conversation goes.
I would be very interested to learn if she too gets visited by Sara.
I don't know of anyone else in my family that may or may not be a witch. Of course, my grandmother's generation, and anyone further back, certainly would not have made it common knowledge if they were.
-Tom Blueleaf
I said I don't believe in #angels, not in the biblical, beautiful yet terrible winged messenger of God sense. What I do believe in, which I suppose some would refer to as angels, is a bit more complicated.
Many faiths believe in #reincarnation, and this is definitely at the core of my own beliefs. I think the Buddhist explanation best describes it, in that you keep living over and over again, as different types of sentient living things, learning mostly through trial and error, until you gain an understanding of life and death that allows you to consciously choose to either continue incarnating, or simply remain in what a some of the earliest witchcraft books have called the “otherworld”. Heaven, limbo, the afterlife, the spirit world, whatever you want to call it, it's all the same thing. Although, I think calling it “heaven” in the Christian sense of the word, is not at all accurate.
On the flip side, as I alluded to in my previous post, some souls go the other direction, devolving, becoming more and more angry and lost, and become what a lot of religions would refer to as a demon. These souls can still save themselves, but it's a long road.
Reincarnation is a lot more nuanced than that, and it does require a bigger discussion about what is actually “you”, and what is all the baggage you picked up in this particular life, but that's the bones of it.
So some souls, which have achieved that higher level of understanding, choose to remain in that other place, but continue helping the rest of us schleps still floundering around the living world. Many cultures refer to them as “spirit guides”, which I think is a bit more apt. They don't always appear as people. Many indigenous cultures saw them as animals. And of course, every culture and religion has different stories about what they do, and where they come from.
I've had one of these tagging along with me my whole life. I've mostly just seen her in dreams, but she has, very rarely, reached out during waking hours as a very strong voice in my head, warning me against something or urging me toward a decision or a direction. In my dreams, she has always appeared as a woman, with dark hair and brown eyes, and always my age. So when I was a child, she was a child as well. When I was a teenager, she was about the same age. When I became an adult, so did she. She grew up with me. When I see her now, she looks to be in her forties.
She usually shows up when I am in some pretty terrible emotional turmoil, and there was a lot of that growing up. At first, she just spent time with me, playing games or sitting with me. As I got older, we actually started having discussions. Each time she would visit, she always knew me, but it would take a moment for me to realize that I knew her, and remember who she was. She would interrupt whatever my mind had conjured up for that particular dream, and we would step away to talk. There was usually hugging, this feeling that I was reunited with an old friend, and the sense that she loves and cares for me very deeply.
As usual, I always blew this off as something my brain was doing. Some sort of coping mechanism I'd developed. It wasn't until my thirties that I started to get an inkling of what she is. I had no idea what her name was, but the name “Sara” was really sticking in my head, and that's what I started calling her.
I learned that I could call to her, just before going to sleep, and at some point in the night she would visit me. Sometimes just for a moment, to acknowledge that she'd heard me, and then she's gone. The first such instance of this, the first time I called her, I was dreaming about being on a road trip, and at some point I found myself sitting in the passenger seat of a red sports car. Sara was driving, very fast. She had long hair, which stuck out because the time before that, she had very short “boy cut” style hair. She was wearing a short red dress and knee-high black boots.
Sara told me that she was just saying “hi”. Then she pulled my head over to her and kissed my left temple, and then the dream very quickly moved on, morphing into something else entirely different, as dreams do, and Sara was gone. That part though, riding in the car with her, is all that I remember with any clarity.
In all of these dreams, Sara has a presence to her. It's a feeling that is very distinct, very recognizable, and very her. As I said, she has poked me during the day, while I'm awake, but very rarely. She may have done so a few times when I was younger, but I may not have recognized that it was her at the time.
During these instances, I feel a very strong push in my head. An inclination to do something, or say something, but sometimes I hear her talking to me. When this has happened, I have felt that presence I mentioned, just for a moment.
The last time she visited me during the day, was the summer of 2023. My partner and I were travelling through Oregon. It was getting late, the sun was going down, and we were trying to locate a campground near Diamond Lake. We turned off of the main highway, onto a road that had clearly not been well maintained in quite some time. The pavement was uneven, and full of cracks and potholes. Every sign we passed was covered in plastic. If you've ever seen Forest Service signs covered in what looks like large garbage bags, you know the ones I'm talking about.
We'd only been on that road for a few minutes, when I began to get uneasy. The further we went, the worse it got, until finally, I heard a very distinct voice in my head, and I felt Sara. What she said was very clear, and her tone was very insistent.
“Turn around. Turn around NOW.”
I braked harder than I'm normally comfortable doing when pulling our little camper, veered off the road, and did a wide U-turn. When we were headed the other direction, I laid on the gas pedal, with that feeling of danger still very strong. My partner said, “I take it this road is creeping you out too.”
That feeling subsided as we pulled back on to the highway. I have no idea what was down that road, but I'm sure I was better off not finding out.
I have several theories about who Sara might be. She may have once been a relative, probably way back up the family line, long before my parents, or my grandparents were born. Or, in one of my previous lives, we may have been married or otherwise coupled. It's also entirely possible that both scenarios are true. In any case, in this life, she's been taking care of me for as long as I can remember, and I definitely know her.
-Tom Blueleaf