Category Archives: Musings, Ventings, & Other Personal Posts. AKA Articles

I Joined the Fairy Circus

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I Joined the Fairy Circus

Look at my face as a child. Do I look like I was ever suited to a “normal” life?

Obviously, I had to join the circus of life, become a fairground barker, jump on a magic carousel, perform in the Fairy Big Top, and travel with a carnival between the worlds.

Hard Traveling

William, the man who raised me, started traveling poor and hard when he was about twelve. My research indicates that his mom couldn’t afford to feed him, so he left home at age seven to work on a farm. A census puts him on a farm at that time, but not in his mom’s household. This is corroborated by a family member mentioning an “uncle” whose farm she visited as a child. The “uncle’s” name is the same as little William’s employer. There is also a relevant photo.

A census also shows that William (Bill) returned home, where his mother now lived with a new husband and his son. That unfortunate young boy stole milk from his front porch after the milkman delivered it because there was not enough food in the home. He would drink from the bottle and then add water to hide his theft. He told this to his daughter, my cousin, who passed the story on to me when I told her I suspected Dad had lived in poverty as a child.

It appears that young Bill left home again soon, to hit the road at age twelve. This was a common solution if a household had too many mouths to feed.

If my earlier writing about Bill contradicts anything here, it is likely because my research netted new information.

Request: It seems that the expression hard traveling predates its use in a Woody Guthrie song. If you know otherwise, please tell me. The expression is magical to me.

It might seem odd that a phrase describing hardship is magical to me. It might even appear callous toward individuals who suffer—or have suffered—on the road. I am in no way romanticizing hard traveling or otherwise minimizing it. My family history, including my own, is why the phrase is magic for me. I won’t didactically spell out further explanation here. The situation is nuanced, so perhaps explanations require an oral give-and-take dialogue. But this essay explains in part, not didactically but experientially and embodied.

A Witch Raised on Optimism and Descended from Society’s Hedge Rows

I wonder if Dad’s love of music came from traveling. His adoration of music seemed incongruent with everything else about him. He even loved musicals. But perhaps his love of show tunes came from his mother, who was a showgirl.

I descended from people who were on the edges of society, but they were not always what most people would imagine.

I assumed showgirl was the family euphemism for stripper. But later, I saw a family painting that I was told is a portrait of Bill’s mom. Curious, I went online, armed with the painter’s name: W Haskell Coffin. I discovered he was known for painting Ziegfeld showgirls. If the portrait is Bill’s mother, she was probably in the Ziegfeld Follies or a similar group.

That is not incompatible with being poor. Here are two reasons. Many performers experience economic hardship. As in any business, some people accumulate wealth, some people barely scrape by. If she did make decent money, she would’ve been past the age of a youthful Ziegfeld girl by the time she suffered poverty with young William. He was born six years after the Follies began. Her money could’ve run out by then.

I’ve spent decades researching my family history, trying to understand it. I’m not a trained researcher. My conclusions could easily be amiss. I tell the story best I can. That’s the job of a circus barker. Perhaps putting a family history together best you can is a necessity when you come from the margins. There were so many roadblocks. For example, I contacted an organization that archives material on Ziegfeld girls. The person with whom I spoke explained that a lot of material was lost because, after Ziegfeld died, there was no money to be made from the archives, so no one took care of them. Marginalized because of lack of money.

The following snapshot of the portrait isn’t great. I took it without great equipment decades ago at a family member’s home:

(Update: Further investigation suggests this might not be my grandmother, despite the family’s claim and all the time I’d already spent researching the painting. At least it opened my mind to her being a showgirl instead of a stripper. I hope I discover the group(s) in which she performed, and I am still looking into Ziegfeld. Research is a living process; new findings lead to—or suggest—new conclusions. Unfortunately, most people in the know have passed on. Of the few that remain, I only know one who is a reliable source. Speaking of new findings: After I wrote the above part of this paragraph, I spoke with that trustworthy source—e.g., when her source might be unreliable, she acknowledges it. She provided new history: She too was told Grandma was a showgirl. She was also told that Grandma was an actress. She added that it was implied—though not said outright—that Grandma was not well regarded by the family because of her work.)

Another example of outliers in the family: Bill was as close-minded as they come. But as a teenager, I brought home a stranger. He had no place to sleep, was due to enter the Marines the next day, and carried a guitar. I assumed Dad would angrily turn him away. That would’ve been typical of my close-minded, bitter father. But he gave the guy a bed. I imagine it was in part because the fellow was soon to be a Marine, but that the guitar had a lot to do with it too.

Dad, unexpectedly, adored folk music, not just show tunes. After his World War II military stint, he didn’t return from Europe to his wife and kids right away (I wasn’t born yet, but I know the story). He went south and hung out with hillbillies. Had they met as hard-traveling children? Thus far, I don’t know where else this extremely conservative man could’ve acquired a love of folk music. And unless he had experienced it rooted in his life experiences and worldview, he would’ve loathed it in the ‘60s when it was associated with radical politics.

I am 74 years old. Previous generations of my family are long gone. Their deaths impelled me to investigate old newspapers, public records, etc., long ago. That has been and continues to be fruitful and fascinating. I will keep at it to answer my new questions about Bill and the rest of the family. Plus, the family member who I know to be reliable remains, ever-ready to talk. And the beloved dead appear in visions to point out directions I might pursue or even tell me stories.)

More Lineage from Society’s Hedge-Row Edges

Bill was not my biological dad. DNA indicates my biological father likely descended from nomads. A family story: An Indian prince proposed to Mom but she chose Bill instead. I don’t know what the family meant by Indian. Mom aside, the family’s lack of education and abundance of prejudice means family members might have considered various peoples as Indian. Was my father Arabic? Iranian? Or?

Grandma a showgirl, Bill a hard traveler, biological father possibly a royal nomad, and Mom a fortuneteller from a long line of Italian witches. I was grown in the edges—society’s hedge rows. Add that I was raised on old musicals with their fantastically optimistic themes, and I had to become a performer in the Fairy circus of life—a nomad traveling for sheer joy, both the experience of it and the giving of it.

Hard Times Taught Me Unapologetic Joy

I am grateful to know a beautiful joy that you can learn from hard times. It is a joy you learn to nurture regardless of circumstances. It is a pure, untainted joy.

That’s one reason I love the circus. Circus artists focus on creating joy and wonder, whether as a clown or trapeze artist. Their shows embody unapologetic joy.

Run away and join the Fairy Magic Circus, for sheer joy:
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Loss, Fairy Magic, Unapologetic Joy, and the Circus

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Loss, Fairy Magic, Unapologetic Joy, and the Circus

After going to the circus today, I had to buy myself a slide whistle.

Letting go of possessions is interesting. I feel okay about losing all my beloved small musical instruments recently. (They were stolen from U-Haul storage where they were temporarily stored during my move.) It was difficult at first. A good many instruments are gone: claves, kazoo, playing spoons, tin whistle, a collection of harmonicas, a harmonica holder so that I can play one while also playing guitar, …

I used them for years, some of them for decades. I had sentimental attachments to them. Wonderful memories remain. I am lucky.

And now I have a slide whistle. It is too ridiculous an instrument for me to have resisted. I can play kazoo like nobody’s business. I mean, for one thing, I make it sound like a sax. That is ridiculous so people start laughing. Now I will be able to incite laughter with a slide whistle.

I love making people laugh.

Humor helps us when we are in pain. Laughter heals.

Life should be like the circus.

I try to turn my day into a circus—filled with magic, daring, unapologetic joy, and a sufficient amount of ridiculousness.

I know in my heart that Fairies go to the circus. Many a Fairy worships human artistry and prioritizes joy. Surely, Fey Folk are drawn to circuses’ glittery costumes and uninhibitedly wild pomp.

Surely some Fairies spin enchantments for circuses to succeed financially. That way, circus artists can be paid to devote their time to keeping their skills sharp and entertaining everyone. Fairies not only seek entertainment but also want everyone else to have it.

Fairies bless my day so that I can live in magic, be daring, pursue joy wholeheartedly, and indulge in ridiculousness. That way, I am entertaining them.

When a small item is suddenly and inexplicably missing, Fairies might have stolen it, so lore tells us. Lore does not say that Fairies break into storage spaces and abscond with carfuls of boxes. That box of small instruments was not the only one stolen. Whoever is to blame, I’m happy to be more lightweight.

In recent years, the burglary and other unpleasant events forced me to let go of half my possessions. It was hard. But I became grateful that the universe forced my hand. It led to my choosing to get rid of more, and I hope to winnow down to only 7/8 of what I had.

I skedaddled as soon as I was born,
running away to join the circus of life.
Older but still tiny, I escaped from the neighborhood
on my bicycle.
A circus performer in the big top that is life,
I travel across physical miles
and the small spaces within atoms.
It is easier with fewer possessions.
Burglars stole beloved tools that created joy.
Less burdened, I more easily traverse Gaia and atoms,
as I make new joy
with my slide whistle,
stubbornly happy attitude,
and magical spells.
I make joy with the musical instruments that were not stolen.
I make joy with new tools that appear in new lands.
I will make joy with the glitter and other goodies
that remain after I finish purging my possessions.

I do not make do. I make joy. So mote it be!

Run away and join the circus with me and the Fey Folk.
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Be a Goddess Who Has All Powers

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Rage, Despair, and Grief Are Chances to Be a Goddess (or Other-Gendered Deity) Who Has All Powers—Francesca De Grandis

Rage, Despair, and Grief Are Chances to
Be a Goddess (or Other-Gendered Deity) Who Has All Powers

To survive and thrive, I am so flexible that I am formless.
A nomad mystic, traveling Faerie realms, I am stardust.

All Human Fates Entwine

Part of my human and Fey heritages is connection with humankind as a whole.

All our fates are entwined.

As a shaman and servant to the Fairy Queen, I have a joyful duty to serve not only my shamanic students but also the larger whole.

My students and other friends are wonderful spiritual companions. Traveling spiritually alongside them upholds and nourishes me. The following is not about these friends. It is about the human race, which is part of my larger community along with Gaia’s other children.

A substantial percentage of humankind practices greed, heartlessness, and cruelty regularly. At times, my rage, despair, and grief overcome me. I’ve realized that, at such times, these painful feelings might be the only way I connect with humankind as a whole.

Though a misery to me, these feelings are strong fibers that bind me to every human on the planet.

One way or another, connection to humankind must happen. I cannot escape it, no matter how terribly a large part of humankind treats Gaia and all Her children. I want to choose how I connect.

Escape from Cruel Situations Can Feel Impossible

When rejected, mauled, and deprived from birth,
when carried in the womb of a Faerie woman
who was scorned, battered, and exiled,
when our skin and hair
was perceived as reason for incrimination,
when humans have haunted me and hunted me
for almost three-quarters of a century,
until in old age and a sleepless night,*
my past seems to be proof
that escape from cruel situations is impossible,
my despair, grief, and rage are inevitable and sane.

I must embrace them.

Then I can recognize
that my exhausted mind deceived me.
I can achieve freedom.
Doors to freedom surround me.

Rage, Despair, and Grief Are Gates to Power:
I Am Stardust

Yes, I embrace them.

They become my gates to power: To survive and thrive, I must become so flexible that I am formless. Formlessness immediately leads to my transforming further, into star dust. It is my natural state. I remember my path. I can plant my feet firmly into it.

Once in my natural state, I quickly, without even trying, become the entire cosmos—Diana, Magna Mater. It’s one of my favorite states.

Now I have no choice but to be in it if I want to survive and thrive. In it, I have all power.

My job is to be my true self—I am stardust, Diana, Magna Mater—because that innately serves the cosmos.

I Am Stardust and Faery Power. I Release Everything Else

Preparing to move to Italy, I am ruthlessly getting rid of every material possession possible. I want nothing but stardust.

I will keep what I need for functionality and beauty. Stardust.

I don’t regret moving back to California, even though, now, I don’t intend to stay.

California is my home—my mother land. But you can’t go home again.

I had to return here to take care of some things before moving to Italy. I didn’t know that is why I came back.

A Nomadic Mystic Traveling Across Faerie Realms

Before moving across the pond, I need to spend time with dear friends in California. I need to revel in and strengthen our connections with each other. Almost all my friends here had kept in touch with me long-distance before I moved back to California. But I need time with them here. Not only am I enjoying wonderful companionship, we’re strengthening a foundation to continue our authentic connection long-distance. This time together will make that long-distance friendship even better.

I need to revisit the land beneath San Francisco’s concrete to say the proper goodbye I could not manage when I moved away before. I need to do other things here, too.

I hope Italy will be my permanent home. But who knows.

I’m no longer counting on a permanent home.

My father was likely Middle Eastern. He might’ve been a nomad. Has my bloodline kept me from settling down happily? Is my DNA the reason that trying to make a permanent home on the material plane made me unhappy?

My home is within myself and within care from my sweet Fairy Gods.

My home is between the stars. I have always known that. I have always traversed Fay realms, but they are my home even more than ever.

Is a Spiritual Home an Illusion?

… Perhaps the idea of a home in the mystic and spiritual realms is a deception.

… No, it’s not a deception. A spiritual home is an important concept. A spiritual home has many vital meanings. … I will never let go of the idea of a sacred “home.” … There are good reasons that I work hard to help my students find their spiritual homes. There are good reasons that I strive to help each student find various metaphysical homes. They could range from being at home in a career to being at home in oneself to trusting one’s magical truths.

And a paradox exists. I need to relinquish the idea of a home, in some ways. The free movement of Nomads with their ever-moving homes is battled by the patriarchy, a death culture that wants everything fixed in place. Borders and boundaries maintain greed-based institutions like patriarchy, colonization, and racism**.

To be free of society’s oppressive spaces and culture, I need, to some extent, to let go of even a metaphysical home other than the ever-shifting Tao. It is the glorious now that is always magic aka miracle.

This is not to say I can escape misery. Or despair. Or rage or grief. They are part of life. Part of the Tao.

Clinging to any rigidity that my fear insists protects me increases misery. Surrendering to the Tao opens every moment to the possibility of joy.

After decades of practicing this surrender, my hopefully-correct understanding is that it’s become time to take it further. So I am. If I understand correctly, my survival and thriving require formlessness greater than I’ve ever experienced, despite my decades of shifting, shifting, and shifting. And I must be formless more consistently than ever.

My formlessness turns into stardust. And then I am a Goddess, Who has all powers. So mote it be!

Enjoy Shamanic Fey-touched travels.
In my events,
we have our heads in the clouds
and our feet on the ground.
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Footnotes

* A friend of mine says that whatever comes into your head after 9 pm is garbage. That’s obviously not true. But I understand her point. When you’re tired, it’s easy to sink into beliefs like, “My life is meaningless.” I am grateful when I remember my friend’s words at such times.

** Patriarchy, colonization, racism, and the other isms are synonyms to some degree. They’re also synonymous with greed. For example, if a white woman fights only to overcome her own oppression, good chance she is trying to climb into the upper caste so that she too can profit from the exploitation of oppressed groups. That is not feminism. It is greed. However, if she also fights misogynoir, she helps dismantle society’s oppressive structures. In other words, she understands that stopping isms requires stopping them as a whole. Mind you, there are many necessary exceptions to seeing them as a piece. For one thing, every ism has a distinct nature and needs to be fought against as such. But always fighting each one individually will dismantle none of them.

Italian Ancestors, Prejudice, Life’s Cycles, & Useful Magic

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Italian Ancestors, Prejudice, Life’s Cycles, & Useful Magic

I’ve been looking into immigration to Italy.

As I research to see if immigrating to Italy is possible for me, I think about my ancestors and the cycles of life.

If I move to Italy, a cycle completes.

You see, Nonna arrived in New York in 1902 or 1903, when prejudice against Italians was rampant. Things have changed.

Things have not changed. They have become the same again because life is cyclical.

In rural Pennsylvania, from which I moved a few years ago, people used the N-word for me because my looks are typical Southern Italian (as opposed to the northern Italian blonde, blue-eyed, and very pale stereotype). I lived in fear for my life because my “nice white” neighbors did not want me in their “nice white” neighborhood. The growing fascism in the U.S. had emboldened them.

I’m not going into all the details because any intelligent person can imagine what they were.

But I’ll say these few things: Someone stood in my living room threatening me. They stood in my home, the place that should’ve been my safety. Toward the end of my time in Pennsylvania, as the hostility escalated, a friend visited a few times a week, so my neighbors would see that I was not an old woman living alone and vulnerable. I was driven from my home by racists. My home, which I worked decades to be able to buy, is gone.

I have no Pollyanna statement to make about what happened.

That does not mean I am without hope or optimism. Nor am I without useful, practical magic that makes all the difference.

A Good Life in All Seasons, with Help from Fairy Gods and Other Ancestors

Things come, things go. That is the nature of life. Always, the cycles.

And I have Fairy Gods. They have always backed up struggling individuals, lending powerful magic to fight oppression and other problems. In every cycle of my life, the good and the bad, the Fairy Queen and King and Their court stand by me.

I am part of the cycles of life, part of the cycle of the comings and goings. And my ancestors, which include the Fairy Gods, line up behind me in every season.

Nonna, whose picture is at the top of this post, arrived in the U.S. at the age of 15. The strength it took for her to settle in at that young age and build a life here is part of my heritage. It fuels my magical spells.

Mine is a good life. During my last three years in Pennsylvania, before I could get everything organized to leave, I feared for my life every day. Despite the terror and possibility of violence and death at any moment, it was still a good life.

The Fairy Gods Created Useful, Practical Magic for Us

I know my spells helped keep me safe and sane and helped me move from Pennsylvania as soon as possible. It is normal to be afraid in dire circumstances—even if you trust the protection magic you do. But Fairy magic mitigated the fear tremendously and kept me spiritually whole—instead of utterly traumatized—in other ways as well.

My sweet Fairy Queen and King offer us—Their children—practical spells for real life. They put Their divine power and down-to-earth wisdom into those spells.

My Gods, thank you for Fairy magic and everything else you give me.

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Francesca De Grandis, bestselling author of Be a Goddess!, trained from birth in a centuries-old Shamanic family tradition that includes both Italian magic (La Vecchia Religione) and Celtic Witchcraft.

The Year’s Dark Months Are a Magic Cauldron

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The Year’s Dark Months Are a Magic Cauldron

A Fairy Yearwheel Ritual With Flowers

My paperwhite bulbs arrived a few weeks ago. The above photo shows some of them the day they arrived, after I nestled them into water, to start growing.

Growing paperwhites inside has become one of my Pagan holiday season rituals in recent years.

I developed a ritual that is the growing of paperwhites. It is one of my year wheel practices. Now I consider growing paperwhites to be among the Fairy Queen’s magic spells for the fall and winter months.

Over the dark months of the year, the ritual unfolds, giving me many blessings.

For example, the bulbs I started a few weeks ago will bloom in the dark of winter. The flowers’ bright star shapes and luxurious scent will lift my spirits from winter doldrums. Lovely flowers lift the spirits, but my paperwhites will do it all the more because I add ritual elements to growing them.

They’ll also remind me that the winter darkness is the Goddess’ womb. This understanding can be a bit of an antidote to depression caused by winter darkness. The ritual elements I add allow the paperwhites to help me experience myself as Her luscious, beloved child within that womb—that winter darkness. The experience is an effective antidote.

The blossoms also remind me that in the winter darkness, I am a bright star reborn every year.

Traditional European Witchcraft’s Power and Subtlety

Traditional European Witchcraft is not always overt. Instead of visible rituals, Witch Spirituality is often internal, an ongoing Shamanic journey through life. Visible manifestations might be, as an example, enjoying one’s day. Another visible manifestation might be attempts to make a positive difference in the world. In other words, visable manifestations might the rituals’ results on the mundane plane. They can be quite striking even though the rituals are not always so “impressive.”

Growing my paperwhites unfolds as subtle rituals throughout the dark time. The rituals include contemplations but they are more than thoughts in my head. These musings are enmeshed in magical spells, and thus shift my energy and the energy of my home, blessing it. The magic might help bring prosperity, wisdom about challenges I face, and just about any other blessing.

So not only do I remember that I am their child reborn. I experience the rebirth, in all its glory and power, as the paperwhites ritual develops over the later dark months.

I experience being held lovingly close by my Goddess, the Fairy queen, as well as by the Fairy king. I need this experience because I can get SADD during the winter. The paperwhite magic mitigates that.

Paperwhites rituals are hearth magic. Kitchen magic is often viewed as shallow and not very powerful. It can be one of the most powerful magics on the planet. I teach a Kitchen Magic course that goes deep deep deep.

We find Fairy secrets in many ways. We lose them if we become ego-ridden and think the only way we can claim them is to boast of them, shouting from the rooftops. We lose them unless we have the humility to hold them close in simple practices.

All my classes embody the Fairy secrets and include lessons about the various ways you can find Fairy secrets, as well as ways you can maintain them in your life. Several of my courses do this without any of their lessons including the term Fairy secrets.

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Fairy Witch, Francesca De Grandis, is the bestselling author of Be a Goddess!. She offers classes, psychic readings, and healings. Her Goddess spirituality embraces practical magic spells. Trained from birth in a Shamanic family tradition of Italian (La Vecchia Religione) and Celtic Witchcraft, her Witchcraft is an ancient Faerie Shamanism. An Italian Witch is also known as a Strega. Francesca equates Fairy Witchcraft with Faerie Shamanism.

Africa—The Origin of Fairies

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Africa—The Origin of Fairies

Contents of Africa—The Origin of Fairies

Who Were the Original Fairies (Faeries) of Ancient Lore?

The Appropriation of African Fairy Culture and Magic

Goddess Tiamat—The Babylonian Origin of Mermaids

“It’s Not True to the Original Vision” Is a Racist Remark

Every Culture Has Wondrous Fairy Lore and Myth

Faerie Magic Isn’t a Commodity for Oppressors to Appropriate

Faerie Secrets & Sacred Mysteries Thrive Only in Shamanic Cultures

Honoring African Faery Faith Ancestors

Diversity, the Fairy Witch, Magic How-To Books and Classes

Here’s one of the most frequently asked questions about Fairies and the ancient Faery Faith:

Who Were the Original Fairies (Faeries) of Ancient Lore?

The original Fairies (Faeries / Faery / Fey …) were an ancient African tribe near the Dahomey coast. They were people of tiny stature and migrated throughout the world, teaching their enchantments.

That history was taught to me orally decades back (by someone who needs to remain anonymous) and still makes sense to me. Africa has been the birthplace of so much of the world’s culture that it likely had to be an initial source of magical culture. (Later, this post touches on how magic is not separate from culture.) Plus almost every ancient society has lore about a small, dark, magical people. One example is the Menehune—the Fey Folk of Hawaii.

Lore about the origins of Fairies differs. Some, at least on an overt level, are more mystical than what I’ve provided here. But I find none of the versions incongruent with the others.

For example, it is said Faeries descended from human women who mated with Gods. Ancient stories of Gods falling in love with human women were worldwide. Whether such lore is taken literally or not, myths in which humans and Deities couple are part of many cultures. These myths have deep roots in humankind’s psyche and echo a Fey origin that is fairly consistent outside of colonizer culture, even if we never know the actual events that underpin the myths. Not speaking necessarily literally here but, perhaps the aforementioned migratory individuals of Africa were the first descendants of women who dared to be adored by a God.

(For other lore about Fey origins, click here: Fairy, Faerie, Faery, Fey, Fay, …)

Note: I tend to use the following words interchangeably: Fairy, Faerie, Faery, Fey, Fay, Fae, … If you want to know why, click the link in the previous paragraph.

The Appropriation of African Fairy Culture and Magic

White writers almost never cite the tale of migrating Fey Africans. This lack exemplifies Africans and people of the African Diaspora originating something that is then credited elsewhere. In this case, it is the insistence that Fairies are innately a European construct.

Also, racists consistently turn BIPOC away from the very things their cultures helped create. If drawn to European shamanism, they are often treated condescendingly or excluded. When they dress up as Fairies for cosplay, they are often harassed in cosplay groups.

And lack of representation of BIPOC in modern fantasy art, literature, and film has been rampant.

Goddess Tiamat—The Babylonian Origin of Mermaids

At the time of this writing, there is tremendous backlash against Disney for selecting Halle Bailey, a black woman, to play Ariel. Ariel, the lead character in Disney’s live-action remake of The Little Mermaid, is a mermaid.

This brings to mind another erasure: Tiamat, an ancient Babylonian Goddess, was the forerunner of all mermaids. No way was She Anglo.

After examining a goodly number of online debates and articles about Disney’s casting choice, I have not seen one mention of Tiamat. It hurts my heart that Her erasure has been thorough enough that I saw no one bring up Tiamat to counter arguments that a white woman was the only appropriate person to play Ariel.

I hope mentioning Tiamat here helps a little in healing wounds from the racist comments that Halle Bailey should not have been cast in the role.

“It’s Not True to the Original Vision” Is a Racist Remark

The lack of diverse representation in modern fantasy art, literature, and film is starting to shift. But it’s a bare beginning in the face of the overwhelming colonizer culture that portrays whiteness as the norm.

(One of the exceptions to white-only fantasy movies before recent shifts is Hong Kong Cinema’s decades-long fantasy genre. Check it out if you like fantasy because it includes the most visually-stunning, pulse-racing, wildly-imaginative movies I’ve ever seen.)

One argument against Halle Bailey playing Ariel is “It’s not true to the original vision.” That’s a racist remark. For one thing, the original vision was Babylonian.

At this point, a racist will want to interject, “I was referring to staying true to the Hans Christian Andersen version from which Disney adapted their script.”

Sorry, no go. Hans Christian Andersen contributed a lot to the world, but his work also upholds racism. Disney’s cast selection is helping remedy that.

Racists are insisting that casting BIPOC in the current Lord of the Rings series goes against Tolkien’s original vision. Going against his vision is a good thing. His vision was racist.

Supposedly erudite arguments that putting BIPOC in Fairytales is inconsistent with the original tales are erroneous. Often, white people’s Fairytales are Anglicized bastardizations of BIPOC’s lore or myth.

“Upholding tradition” often means maintaining the tradition of systemic oppression.

Well-meaning white people who say, “We need to change representations of Fey legends to be more inclusive” might want to examine that sentence. It defines “we” as innately white. The global majority is not white.

Much of that majority population never viewed Fey creatures as only Scandinavian, Welsh, French, German, etc. Fairy Folk are part of most native cultures.

Every people has wondrous Fairy lore. This prevalence of beauty and power is something to celebrate, not deny.

Every Culture Has Wondrous Fairy Lore and Myth

Whether Fairy lore is Polynesian, Chinese, European, or stems from another place, it shows humankind has always had a relationship with Fairy magic. It is a human heritage that left its marks in all societies and belongs to all people.

For example, Witches centuries back in my Italian family lineage and in many ancient Mediterranean villages viewed the Goddess Diana as the Queen of Fairies.

Faerie Magic Isn’t a Commodity for Oppressors to Appropriate

Magic is not a commodity for oppressors to steal for their greedy purposes. Lore throughout the world tells of Fairy magic spells that free us from oppression. The Goddess Diana was known as the champion of the oppressed.

Magic is not an object like gold in the earth that someone can cleave from rock for selfish ends. Magic is not an object to be owned. Magic is a heritage. Magic is not separate from its environment. When stolen, the Fairy Queen’s magic spells become impotent. Here’s why:

Faerie Secrets & Sacred Mysteries Thrive Only in Shamanic Cultures

For me, Witch spirituality includes living in the understanding that everything is connected.

Faerie secrets have context. Mysteries abide in Shamanic cultures. (For brevity’s sake, I am not defining Shamanic culture here. If you need a definition, imagine what it might be. You’ll probably be close enough to understand the rest of what I’m saying.) Faerie secrets are stripped of magic when they are stolen, their cultural context dismissed.

No wonder many dishonorable culture-thieves who divide all of life up into components insist that magic doesn’t work.

Another reason they can’t find magic’s power:

Magic is the living presence of the old Gods’ loving care of Their human children. Cultural thievery breaks the link to the Gods and hence to magic. In other words, ripping magic from its culture disintegrates connection to source, which ultimately is Deity.

Honoring African Faery Faith Ancestors

The British Isles’ ancient Faery Faith is not a rigidly-defined entity, divorced from the rest of the globe. African spirituality and the Faerie Faith were never separate. The Faerie Faith originated in Africa.

Another thing Witch Spirituality means for me is that the Old Gods are my ancestors. This is more than a belief. It is also my experience.

I believe in greatness because I experience the Old Gods’ powers in me.

But no one can honor or stay connected to the Old Gods unless they honor their human ancestors. That includes humans to whom they are not related but who helped create their culture.

And all humans are related, so there we are.

As to more immediate ancestors—both cultural and biological—I’ll use myself as an example. Traditional African-based spirituality is strikingly similar to the ancient European Shamanic family lineage in which I was raised. Africans are among my Faery Faith ancestors in more than one generation. Many Africans lived in the ancient Mediterranean, intermarrying and influencing its spiritual culture. The same is true of other parts of Europe, though colonizer history denies it.

Dishonoring human sources distances one from the Old Gods.

Part of addressing ancestral trauma is healing trauma from cultural thievery that ancestors suffered. I hope attributing origins in this essay helps that healing some.

Diversity, the Fairy Witch, Magic How-To Books and Classes

I teach Goddess spirituality and Witchcraft as tools for transforming one’s inner and outer realities.

No one should be turned away from magic’s miraculous powers and joys.

Anyone who wants can be a Fairy Witch. Meditations with the Fairy Queen and other Fey rituals belong to everyone. Magna Mater—Great Mother Goddess, Creator of All—is known as the Queen of Fairies, in culture after culture. She is a loving Mother who welcomes all Her children to the empowering magic of the Fey.

If you want fellow seekers who embody diversity, study with me. Click the newsletter banner below to receive notice of new classes:

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Francesca De Grandis, Fairy Witch and bestselling author of Be a Goddess!, offers long-distance classes, Shamanic counseling, and healings. Her Goddess spirituality embraces practical magic spells. Trained from birth in a Shamanic family tradition of Italian (La Vecchia Religione) and Celtic Witchcraft, she practices Witchcraft that is an ancient Faerie Shamanism. An Italian Witch is also called a Strega. Francesca equates Fairy Witchcraft with Faerie Shamanism. Nowadays, most people do not view European Witchcraft as a Shamanic practice, but traditionally it was for many practitioners.

Urban Hedge Witch

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Urban Hedge Witch: City Magic, Parking Lots as Mystic Thresholds, & Rose Mysteries

Urban Hedge Witch

City Magic, Parking Lots as Mystic Thresholds, & Rose Mysteries

Before I share what’s been going on lately, a few introductory thoughts:

What is a Hedge Witch?

In Britain, hedges between properties are considered liminal spaces—potent realms suited to magic spells. A Hedge Witch is a magical practitioner who takes advantage of such powerful spaces to do rites.

You can think of hedges not only as as thresholds between properties but also as thresholds between the mundane and mystic planes.

A Hedge Witch is a shaman who often walks between the worlds regardless of whether a physical hedge is nearby.

Liminal spaces also provide thresholds through which we can enter into a new life, such as a transition from poverty into financial well-being or from lack of self-esteem into self-confidence.

I Love and Hate the Term Hedge Witch

When I first heard the term Hedge Witch, I was delighted. It evokes magical green depths, mysterious going-ons, and fantastical activities. However, I hate the way the term is often used nowadays aka I am a Hedge Witch. I am not like other Witches. I’m better than other Witches.

When we define ourselves by our differences, ignoring our commonalities, we strangle ourselves with categories. Definitions like Hedge Witch, Fairy Witch, and Green Witch can be wonderful when they help us find and affirm who we are magically. But they tend currently to be used divisively and arrogantly, neither of which helps magic work well.

And—I’m only talking for myself—the divisions don’t make complete sense for me because I’m a Hedge Witch, Fairy Witch, Green Witch, Shamanic Witch, and other types of Witches. They are all part and parcel of Witchcraft as I know it. I cannot be one type without being the other types. In fact, in my case, shamanism and Witchcraft are synonymous, as they were traditionally in Europe.

Again, only speaking for my Witchcraft: I need phrases like Kitchen Witch, Hedge Witch, or Solitary Witch because they each invoke a special magic that I want. They are lyric—not definitive—terms. Were I to use them as strict categories, they become cages that trap my spirit and my magic.

What is an Urban Hedge Witch?

Urban Hedge Witch is a term I made up. In the spirit of what I’ve said above, I don’t want to give Urban Hedge Witch a definitive meaning. Rather than provide a glib category, I prefer to let you read this post.

End of introductory thoughts.

A Happiness and Prosperity Ritual Using Rose Petals

I am having the best time! A friend sent me boxes of fresh rose petals.

We were on the phone, and I told her I wanted to strewn petals throughout my new apartment and, still on the phone with her, I looked up how to buy fresh rose petals online. I was stunned by the cost. My friend generously offered to buy the petals.

I’m becoming an urban shaman again after almost two decades of living in the woods. The rose petals became part and parcel of my return to city magic.

The petals strewn all over the floor are just a third of what my friend sent!


That same third is swept up against the door, waiting to be used again in the ritual:

I decided not to dump all the petals on the floor. I loved the amount that I dumped.

I’ve been walking through it, sweeping it up as a ritual for happiness and prosperity. Later, I re-scattered the petals I swept up, strewn them all over the floor again, to finish the ritual. (I’m not giving complete details of the ritual I channeled because I want to move on with the post, but here’s lots of Rose Magic info: https://stardrenched.com/2020/11/24/rose-magic/.)

And then there’s a great big container that I dumped the rest of the petals in. I put my phone next to it for scale. So many petals!

The rose petals were part of returning to urban shamanism not only because I used them in a housewarming rite but also because they were a gift from a friend. Generosity is pure magic.

The Right to Love Life and Live My Dreams

I’ve been running my fingers through the container’s rose petals, loving the licentiousness of so many petals against my skin and how it gives me permission to love life and go for broke. I also crush them in my hands for the sheer visceral pleasure of organic matter in my palms when I’m no longer in the country but in the middle of the gray dusty city.

Ritual Is as Inherent to Living as Breathing Is

My new apartment is tiny. After I moved in, it was wall-to-wall boxes. It kind of still was after only a week and a half here, though it was much better already.

I almost asked my friend to wait, not send me petals until a lot of my boxes were unpacked. I thought gobs of strewn vegetation might be a big mess, what with the crowded space.

Then I realized I should relish the roses whenever they came, and if they arrived soon, they would be a beautiful tool to bless my unpacking and other nesting.

I try to practice what I preach, and I teach to not wait until the “right” time to do a ritual, for example not wait until you are focused, or until you know what you want to get out of the ritual. Ritual is part of life, as inherent to living as is breathing, it was as much a part of the first humans’ life as was hunting.

Thresholds Can Appear Any Time, Any Place

The time when I’m not fully unpacked is betwixt and between; it is a threshold, which makes it a liminal space, a realm in which all possibilities can come forward for my choosing.

This is a perfect opportunity for rose magic. Rose is a symbol of the deepest Mysteries. Sometimes, they are more easily touched when circumstances are new or uncertain.

Plus Mysteries transcend time and space, so are always available to us, whether we’re in the country, the city, the suburbs …

Thresholds can open anytime, anywhere. I can be a hedge Witch anywhere, anytime. Someday, perhaps I’ll open the wardrobe that peeks into Narnia. That door can appear if I watch for it, continue to believe in magic, and ever-acknowledge that life’s problems are constant opportunities for spiritual growth—thresholds, for example, from self-obsession to self-care, from fear-induced stagnation to self-expression, or from resentments to emotional freedom.

To play with rose petals when there was unpacking I might have been doing was gloriously foolish and magically potent.

For one thing, it distracted me from the studio being filled with boxes, and from my being knee-deep in the chaos of constantly figuring out this new dwelling’s basics—where is the light switch I need right now, how do I buzz the person in who is trying to deliver a package, oops there’s no longer a door to my right, a wall is there now. My focus instead shifted to the eternal, the joyful, the potential for all I want to be manifested.

I’m an urban shaman again, using the magic that’s here, and the rose petal ritual was part of my reentry into that.

Urban shamanism was crucial to me till I moved to the country 17 years ago. My book, Be a Goddess!, originally had a passage about city magic. It was taken out, right before the book went to press. We needed to cut page count, and the section wasn’t pivotal to the lessons in the book. But I hated to delete that section. Remembering how crucial it was is important because it affirms my connection to the song I hear from sidewalks.

Urban Hedge Witch at Goddess Diana’s TriVia—Three Roads

In the city, I tend to rent places on the margins between two parts of town. It happens without my trying. I simply find an apartment I like, and it’s betwixt and between.

Now I’m living on the exact border between Duboce Triangle and the Mission District. I am the urban equivalent of a Hedge Witch, a shaman dwelling in liminal city spaces, living at a threshold.

There are actually three realities that my building borders because the Castro is so near that, as soon as I go out, I’m walking alongside members of the LGBTQ+ community.

I am at my Goddess Diana’s archetypal trivia—three roads. (See Roman Religion and the Cult of Diana at Aricia by C.M.C. Green for more information. Or click here: https://stardrenched.com/2020/03/25/dianas-crossroads-during-the-pandemic/ )

The junction of three roads in the wilderness, another liminal space.

All of San Francisco Is Betwixt and Between

The geological features beneath San Francisco are, for me, congruent with the definition of liminal spaces. The earth under the sidewalks enlivens them until they speak to me. I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of serpentine stone—California’s State Rock—hides below this city. Serpentine, unassuming, yet rich with secrets.

When I first returned to San Francisco, I stayed at a friend’s place for a few months in a posh area—Nob Hill.

I opened my friend’s front door one day, prepared to walk down the steps to go on an errand. But two fellows sat on the front stoop, clearly setting up for a “transaction.” When they saw me, they immediately stood but instead of walking off as I expected, they ambled only a few feet away. Then one of these shady-looking fellows leaned against a car, while his companion relaxed nonchalantly against a tree. There, they continued to prepare for commerce.

This was not an unusual occurrence. All of San Francisco is liminal, betwixt and between.

Greed’s Heartless Threshold between Wealth and Poverty

San Francisco has a merciless border—a thin transparent line between wealth and a poverty reminiscent of my worst nightmares, ones that woke me up in terror and left a foreboding I could not blithely shake.

There’s no San Francisco street where you will not see someone unsheltered. It terrifies me: the American attitude of “I want it all so will ensure very little is left for anyone else” is starkly revealed in San Francisco, and that American greedy norm could easily catapult me into poverty, as it could anyone, even someone wealthy.

I am also petrified by the fact that, were I to take a financial spill, the threshold through which one might travel from poverty to financial well-being is often impermeable. So I try not to morbidly focus on it.

Instead, I strive to acknowledge the possibility of deprivation as an ongoing fact of life, and I choose to participate in life. I must view my enormous fear and the possibility of destitution as thresholds for spiritual growth. I must face this fear yet leave it behind me. None of this is easy for someone who has known deprivation. But I have no choice. Fear will destroy the song in my soul.

I must also remember magic removes barriers (though my fear would tell me otherwise and can be hard to shake off) and take life’s ever-present possibility of pauperization as a threshold in which magic abounds—enchantment that I can embrace as a tool to, among other things, manifest prosperity.

Magic is miracle, so I can let go of the self-defeating belief “The deck is stacked. Success is impossible” and replace it with “All goodness is possible. All thresholds into plenty are possible to traverse.”

My Home in the Hedges

All San Francisco residents are liminal dwellers, but this current apartment stands at so many crossroads and borders, more than I’ve already mentioned. For example, the range of incomes demonstrated by the homes on my one block is remarkably wide. And then there’s the large parking lot by my building.

The lot accommodates a few businesses—a Fed Ex, a pet supply store, and a law office. The lot is a beehive of wildly disparate activity all day, ranging from elderly individuals carrying packages (usually well-off elders, or so their vehicles would imply), to truck drivers who I suspect are long-haulers taking a break, to drug dealers, to teenagers whose cars blare loud tunes, to elegant young gay couples with their dogs.

Unsheltered individuals go to and from the parking lot, as they do throughout San Francisco, though the proprietor of one of the stores makes sure no one sets up camp there.

One day, I looked out to see a homeless man whack back all the overgrowth that had come through the lot’s back fence. I don’t know why he did that. Did the owner of the parking lot hire him? A huge pile of cut-down brush is there now, weeks later. I don’t think it’s all from that one incident. I’m surprised no one’s taken it to build shelter.

Another day, I looked out and, in the corner of the parking lot right below my kitchen window, a homeless man performed obsessive and compulsive movement patterns for about ten minutes. … Well, I’m not sure he did it the whole 10 minutes since I walked away from the window and returned only briefly to peek surreptitiously.

Last week, I happened to notice a woman in the same spot below my kitchen window. As I said, it is not only homeless people who come to that parking lot but San Francisco residents of all kinds, constantly. Beautifully dressed and sharply focused, she was exiting her car. Then she placed a small rug on the ground. After removing her shoes, she stepped on the rug and knelt for, perhaps, Islamic prayer. I backed away from the window, not wanting to disturb her worship. I returned to the window moments later to see her put her shoes back on, pick up her rug, get in her car, and drive away.

This week, a man appeared in the same spot, with his own car, prayer rug, and fulfillment of sacred obligations. Like the woman who had been praying, he appeared to be well-off.

That spot below my window is the parking lot’s most recessed corner, so has become a haven for city dwellers.

How could a parking lot not be a mystic threshold, with the constant comings and goings and potential for anything to occur?

My Home Is in My Heart

I think the Old Gods sent me to this apartment to grow spiritually, become more prosperous than ever, indulge in glorious Mysteries, hone my urban shamanism, and dwell in my full power during my elderly years (I turn 73 this fall).

I may not remain in this apartment for more than a year. It might be a transition. Yet another liminal space.

But my home is in my soul and in care from my Gods, including Gaia and Mother California.

I do not feel rooted into this apartment. I feel rooted into the land beneath it. This plot of earth loves me. As did stony Nob Hill when I briefly lived there.

My roots extend deep. My roots extend wide throughout the West Coast. Uprooting myself to move to Pennsylvania was awful and unsuccessful. I felt like my legs had been cut off, my roots still here. In my 18 years in Pennsylvania, there wasn’t a day I didn’t miss being here.

Children Understand Magic and Liminal Spaces

I grab a huge bunch of rose petals. It is a small amount compared to the exuberant quantity in the container. I drop the bunch back in, I repeat this—grab and drop, over and over, the feel of the petals in my hand, then I squeeze the red velvet as it heals my weary eyes, squeeze, drop, squeeze, drop, then press my face hard against the vegetative red.

One of my favorite childhood memories appears—my father clipped the hedges (oh my, hedges, I never made that connection until right this second) then put the clippings into a huge barrel, after which I found a long something, stick he had chopped from the hedge? Shovel? and I used it to stir the clippings, stir the leaves, pretending to be a Witch, one of my favorite childhood memories, my young heart delighted by the fancy.

The delight made child-me as big as a fairy tale.

All my rose play now and the memory remind my belly and soul that anything is possible; I have all the power I need to achieve what I want.

Taming the Wild? I won’t Let That Happen!

My father, who was a terrible man, burnt down my mother’s rosebushes. (Roses! Everything is connecting. Mom’s beautiful womanly magic in the backyard.)

When he cut the hedges, he must have been trying to tame them, sculpting them into typical bourgeois rectangles. I suspect my child self felt, deep down unbeknownst to herself, that she was rescuing that liminal space, freeing it to be wild again.

I have all the power I need to achieve what I want.

So mote it be! Thank you, thank you, my Gods, my California, and my friend who sent me rose petals!

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Pagans, Publishing, Morals, and More

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Francesca De Grandis and Anne Newkirk Niven discuss Pagan publishing, spirituality that gets you through hard times, building Pagan community, and ethics.

Anne Newkirk Niven is the editor and publisher of Witches&Pagans magazine and SageWoman magazine. She has been a Pagan publisher since 1988, and lives with her family in Forest Grove, OR.

Francesca De Grandis, bestselling author of Be a Goddess!, is a fairy witch. She offers long-distance classes, shamanic counseling, and healings. Her Goddess spirituality embraces practical magic spells.

Francesca De Grandis: Anne has maintained high ethical and professional standards over the decades I’ve known her. That, along with her devotion to community service, make her a precious spiritual force. So I felt impelled to interview her. Anne, how have your goals as a priestess-publisher evolved over the years? 

Anne Newkirk Niven: My goals as a priestess-publisher remain the same over 30+ years in this profession, but how I implement them has changed over the years.

Those goals are (in order of importance): foster and promote Pagan-centric community; provide information of use to Pagans, witches, Wiccans, polytheists and Goddess-centric folks; not go broke (personally) in the process.

What’s changed is an original emphasis on ink-on-paper magazine publishing, then a 5 year stint with an emphasis on social media, and now, a return to magazine publishing. Social media was a bit of a sugar high: lots of fast, short term growth, but no long-term satisfaction for me as a publisher.

Francesca De Grandis (FDG): Please tell me something in your specific, personal Pagan spirituality that gets you through hard times.

Anne Newkirk Niven (ANN): My personal Pagan spirituality is very eclectic, but nourishing. The one ritual that gets me through is saying grace with my family once a day (some days that’s brunch, other days it is dinner, depending on schedules) before meals. Our grace is idiosyncratic, was created by me, then added to be our oldest son when he was about seven, then amended again by adding a Japanese phrase taught to us by an exchange student from Japan. It roots our days in each other, as well as in gratitude for what we are given.

FDG: I’ve known you a long time and have seen you continue to strive toward a high moral standard. What helps you keep working toward your ideals? 

ANN: Honestly, that’s a hard question. What else would I do? I guess that I really don’t think I’m doing anything extraordinary. I was raised Christian, but in a liberal church (the type that’s almost extinct these days, sadly) and I internalized the concept of self-sacrifice, honor, and compassion. That didn’t change when I became Pagan. So, it’s pretty much key to my self-image to do my best to uphold these ideals. If I did otherwise, I wouldn’t recognize myself.

FDG: Is there a Deity who has substantially supported you in your community work or personal life? If so, can you explain Their particular powers and how those powers have helped you?

ANN: I seem to be something of a serial monotheist: a series of gods (only one, actually) and goddesses have influenced my life, but seemingly for specific purposes. Usually a deity speaks to me, asks me to do something, and then when I’ve accomplished that goal, bids me farewell. First was Jesus (who I call “J.C.”) who I was very devoted to as a tween and in my teens; then a large number of goddesses in my twenties and thirties, and then a slow parade since then. I’ve had relationships with, including Mary, Kuan Yin, Oshun, and Frigga, among others. Although I have felt upheld by each of them, I wouldn’t say I relate to their powers or attributes, more to their personalities. Lately I think I’ve been called by Sigyn, but I haven’t quite figured out that relationship yet.

FDG: Is there anything else on your mind you want to share?

ANN: I’d like to share the idea of being kind to one another. I’m acutely aware that, as an interlocking set of communities, we Pagans, Witches, Wiccans, Polytheists, and Heathens (and more and allies) are a fractious bunch. But I would like to ask us all to elevate the virtues of compassion, kind-heartedness, steadfastness, and empathy. This is a very challenging time to be alive, but the gods and goddesses called us to be here, and I believe it was to share their love with the whole world, not through evangelism or bringing people to a specific path, but through living as if we gave a care about others. That’s my guiding light.

FDG: I love the beauty and honesty of your answers and cherish your closing remark. You are my spiritual sister, Anne. Thanks so much for talking to my website visitors.

ANN: I love you right back, sister!

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Maytime Portals to Faerie

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Dangerous Faerie Realms in the Month of May

Reject Forbidden Portals and Still Frolic with the Fey Folk


ByPass Most May Portals, for Better Ways to Meet the Fey

Getting to know and interact with fairies is a joyful part of our human heritage from our ancestors. However, not all interactions are desirable. Some can be nasty and unsafe.

In the early days of May, portals can appear.

You might stumble across such an opening on Mayday, an ancient Pagan holiday also known as Beltane, or on other early May days.

Don’t go through it. This time of year, it is extremely likely to open to realms humans rarely survive, physically or spiritually.

Even highly skilled shamans (witches, druids, whatever) cannot endure what occurs beyond such gates.

What happens there is not necessarily evil, though it can be. It’s simply beyond human endurance.

Even Fey there who are good-willed will not treat a human with the kindness that other Fey might extend on this side of those gates or in other Fey realms.

The Fey folk of the particular realms I am warning against are oblivious of human needs, so there will be neither food nor drink suitable for humans.

These Fey, oblivious not only to human needs but also to human fragilities, will unwittingly kill a human by dragging them along on Fey escapades that either go at a speed lethal to a human or are otherwise impossible for a human to survive.

And those are only the dangers from kindly Fey there!

What I’ve said above about May gates and the worlds beyond them is traditional lore. Forgive me for not attributing source. I know I learned from a person, not from a book, but I can’t remember who. I do know the lore corroborates experience from past lives and my current one.

You Can Have Blessings, Joy, and Happiness from the Fey Folk

Despite my above cautions, we can meet the Fey folk and have amazingly beautiful, wild, thoroughly fulfilling encounters. Not all that is Fey is forbidden to humans. Quite the opposite. Many Fey love us and are safe. They will even protect us from nasty Faeries.

The Fairy Queen and King love humanity and want to bless all humans.

Who are the Fairy Queen and King?

All over the world, in culture after culture, lore tells of the Faerie Queene and King, by different names. In the lore—though sometimes you have to go far back to find it—these Old Fairy Gods are also known as the Great Mother of All and Her Cocreator, our Father. These two deities are our Divine Parents.

(If you noticed I spell fairy different ways in this blog, I’m basically using them all to mean the same thing, though that is an uncommon practice. Ditto related words—fae, fey, fay. I love all the variations. For more about that: https://stardrenched.com/2020/09/08/fairy-faerie-faery-fey-fay/)

How to Meet a Fairy and Be Blessed by the Old Fairy Gods

Easy ways to draw fairies are in my post about rose magic:

The post shows eight simple ways to use roses to attract fairies and other blessings.

The post also has a ritual for the Great Mother of All and Her Cocreator our Father to welcome you into Their care, protection, wild Mysteries, and more.

Here’s the Rose Magic post: https://stardrenched.com/2020/11/24/rose-magic/

Rooster Magic

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Rooster Magic, Symbolism, and Meanings

What Is Rooster Magic? What does Rooster Symbolize?

Rooster is a symbol of joy, vitality, inner fire, passion for life, healthy pride in your accomplishments, and fun.

Thus, rooster magic creates all those blessings, and I’ll show you how to do rooster magic in a sec, yay!

What Is the Meaning of Rooster?

If a rooster appears in your dream, or rooster pics are showing up an inordinate amount in your online newsfeed, here are ways you might interpret that symbolism.

1) It could mean that you need to find more joy, healthy cockiness (heh, accidental pun there— cockiness), self-respect, or any of the other things I mentioned roosters symbolizing.

2) On the other hand, it could be the universe affirming your lust for life, fire, or other rooster-like traits, so that you know you’re on the right track.

3) Or both messages could be present: a confirmation of your fabulous rooster self, with an urging to strengthen those traits.

With three options to choose from, it can be confusing. Go with your gut. But then confirm with a friend who is a straight-talker, so you don’t fool yourself.

How to Do Rooster Magic

Try any or all of these:

* Place a picture or statue of a rooster in your home and/or workplace. This totem—or call it a fetish—attracts rooster powers into a space.

* Contemplate a picture or statue of a rooster for five minutes. You needn’t study the totem with a sharp focus or intellectually analyze it. Rest your attention on the rooster the way your head rests on a pillow at night. Try for relaxed attention and gently note what you experience, whether an idea, feeling of empowerment, peace, or anything else. There’s no right or wrong here. If you experience nothing, it doesn’t mean you’re not receiving rooster power. You may not notice it yet. If you have a tiny positive experience, that could be the tip of the iceberg, the rest of the improvement occurring during the contemplation or after it.

* Crow like a rooster when you wake in the morning. Sounds silly, but it plugs you into rooster energy and helps it flow through you, empowering you for the day ahead.

* Strut around like a rooster. If the silliness of it makes you laugh, that’s great. Laughter is medicine that heals and uplifts the spirit. And fairies, drawn to the merriment, will add to your power.

* Wear jewelry with a rooster picture on it. The jewelry functions as an amulet.

* Let’s not forget actually raising a rooster and hens as an option. In a world where the abstract or symbolic are often considered more powerful than the actual items being symbolized or discussed, it’s important to remember having a real rooster in your yard would be powerful rooster medicine.

* If a deity in your pantheon likes roosters, put a photo or sculpture of a rooster on your altar and tell your God it’s for them. Three Gods partial to roosters:

I Learn Rooster Magic

I didn’t pay attention to rooster magic until fairly recently. Then I saw a beautiful stone pendant carved as a rooster. I just had to have it, even though till then I’d usually found the plethora of rooster decor annoying.

When I received the carving, I knew Exu would love it.

African God Exu and Roosters

Exu is one of the African Pagan Gods. He embodies enormous vitality, fire, confidence, and love of life. He bestows those traits on those devoted to Him.

He is a major figure in my pantheon and takes good care of me.

I had to laugh when I was putting the finishing touches on this essay and happened to see the following Yule 2020 photographs. They show me wearing fascinators (tiny hats) I designed and made.

Usually you wear only one fascinator, but I wore three. They don’t look like hats but like flowers and hornlike flora growing from my head, and the three work well together.

Anyway, I laughed with delight and happiness—not self-denigrating mockery—because, in the photos, I might as well have been strutting around a barnyard! I look so pleased with myself and happy, full of life at age 70, proud of my wild whimsical designs, and relishing the abundance of hair ornamentation that adorned my crown for the Yule ceremony that was about to happen, and Exu fosters all these traits.

In other words, I laughed to stumble across photographs that show me an utter and happy rooster-like example of my above remark that Exu bestows certain traits:

I’d never seen any lore about Exu and roosters, but He told me He’d like to wear my new pendant. I draped it over a statue of Him. In the process, I sensed that rooster holds some of Exu’s powers, which is how I learned and became enamored by the magics of rooster. … In retrospect, they’re self-evident.

When I researched Exu and roosters, still nothing. But I believed He loves them nonetheless. My belief was corroborated when I happened to learn the God Mercury likes roosters. 

Roman God Mercury and Roosters

Mercury is one of the Roman Pagan Gods. His affection for roosters makes sense to me. Exu and Mercury have so many similarities that they’re beyond the confines of this post. But both Deities have a sense of humor, lust for life, fire, and out-of-bounds exuberance. I know either of them would exclaim, “Cock-a-doo·dle-doo” with great gusto, luscious pride, and yummy silliness.

An exception to my ignoring rooster magic before my experience with Exu and the pendant:

Goddess Athena and Roosters

Athena is one of the Greek Pagan Gods. I love this Goddess Warrior Mother Who protects and upholds me. I saw a wee portrait of Her online that I purchased:

The wee gold-tone spheres around Her portrait are not part of the piece I purchased. I beaded a setting from gold-colored seed beads, to hang the portrait from a cord around my neck.

Who wouldn’t want a portrait of Athena with a rooster on Her head, LOL!? So I did some online research to discover She likes roosters. Then I forgot that Athena pendant and the related research, until after I had the rooster experience with Exu, made up ways to do rooster magic, and created a jointed paper rooster doll as one of those ways:

Jointed Paper Doll of a Rooster

I love making jointed paper dolls and channeling sacred art. Combining the two is the best experience for me. Making a jointed, paper-doll rooster was a way to learn more about rooster power and drink it into my cells. A video of the rooster doll I made:

If I spoke too softly at the end of the video, here’s what I said: “Magic is in everything. The magic rooster, my magic hands, your magic nose, my magic toes.” Hahahahaha.

Have a Rooster Totem in Your Home

An exclusive for my newsletter subscribers: in an upcoming newsletter, I’ll gift subscribers a PDF painting of the doll’s parts. You can print and cut out the parts, to assemble your own jointed, paper doll rooster. Click the banner below to subscribe.

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