"Ravens in the Library" by SJ Tucker

I first heard this one on one of my favorite podcasts, "Down at the Crossroads," which I discovered right after I had my son. I remember fondly listening DatC while taking him on walks in his stroller. "Ravens in the Library" calls to my mind a nursery rhyme, and I like to think of it as such. That's one of things I miss most about being Catholic - the music and the hymns. My favorite part of mass was singing, especially around Christmas. Since striking out on this alternate spiritual path, that's been a big part of my search - finding something to fill that musical gap. As you may have guessed, music is an essential part of my practice. I find incredible wisdom and solace in the notes and words of my favorites songs. I believe music is an ancient magic. One that most people understand deep at their core.

Words within our grasp--do we let go?

Do we fly heavily with the weight of what we know?

This song is about knowledge and the importance of books, especially in regards to the spread of the Craft. A lot of the pagan/witchy podcasts I listen to often ask their guests how they became a witch or astrologer or tarot reader (take your pick). It's comforting how similar the stories are to mine - becoming disenchanted with the religion of their youth, finding meaning in legends and stories they read in books, and cobbling together a faith of their own from snippets they found on the Internet. So many hours in the library and on random Angelsites pages. That's an important point about choosing to be a witch though - there's a lot of research involved. And good, well-researched information was so hard to find in the late 90s/early 2000s. It's much better now. Some may lament that everyone and their cat is a witch now, but I lament that I can't buy every occult book I find (and I want to read them all). I wonder, sometimes, if that's one of the reasons why I'm so drawn to the esoteric. It's a field I never tire of exploring - and, lately, my appetite is insatiable. I've had to put a moratorium on buying occult/witchcraft books until I finish a few I already have in my own personal library. I'm trying to be more structured in my studies, so I might actually accomplish this goal before the New Year. I love it, though - I love copying correspondence tables and trying to replicate botanical drawings in my notes. I love the endless intricacies of learning astrology. I even love waking up early to practice yoga and meditation (despite my night owl instinct protesting loudly).

I also enjoy the different winding roads learning about the occult takes me down. For example, reading a treatise comparative mythology (i.e., "The Hero with a Thousand Faces" by Joseph Cambell) alongside the myths and legends themselves. I'm reading Neil Gaiman's "Norse Mythology" to my son for bedtime stories and the thing I enjoy the most is pronouncing (or attempting to pronounce) the Old Norse words, which underscores the bits of Icelandic I'm picking up from an app I use to study the language on my phone. Then there's the Epic of Gilgamesh, which I picked out from my dad's library the last time I visited my parents - a central reference point in "The Red Goddess," an occult book I bought for my birthday that outlines the history and evolution of the Sacred Courtesan. That's always the best part for me - seeing the threads connect and then lead off in an entirely new direction. I have this increasing feeling that - if I can just read enough, study enough, learn enough - I'll understand everything. I'll see how it all works out. The weight I feel just drives me on, to the next book, to the next spiritual practice, the next thread. I know that sounds crazy. During these last few months, I've had to settle into the acceptance that I won't understand until I understand. And that will probably be when I die, which (hopefully) is a long time from now. Until then, it's okay to enjoy getting lost in the research - just don't take anything too seriously.

Seven reads about the gods,

chuckles to herself;

to the rest, she never lets on.

Try to catch a glimpse of them

bickering like mortal men-

feathers on the sidewalk.

If you heard a raven say such horrible words

as the ones you may have heard in your day to day,

would it make you choose your own more carefully

around the ones you love?

That brings me to the final part of my rant. Never take anything too seriously on the Search. I think that's where a lot of people get tripped up. They take everything so serious, they forget to enjoy things and get self-conscious. They get caught up in their own self-image or they take someone else's word as gospel without thinking for themselves. I've read so much nonsense in the past decade, it's like you're mining every time you find a new resource - got to dig through so much bullshit to find a few scraps of brilliance. The most important skill to develop is discernment, which is highly dependent on your ability to trust your intuition. It's that pull when someone tries to tell you how things are and it just feels wrong. Or when something - a phrase, a song, a desire, a vision - feels right in your heart, even though it doesn't make sense in the current context of your life. When it keeps coming to the forefront of your mind in your quiet moments. That's the important thing - intuition is quiet. Maybe that's why it's so easy to discount. It doesn't make a lot of noise. It's the voice in the back of your head telling you that something doesn't fit. Or where your mind goes when you're alone. Sometimes, these thoughts are just your ego trying to protect you. But, sometimes, it's your intuition trying to get your attention. The only way to figure it out is to sit with it. Meditate a minute. Ask yourself questions. Maybe write it down. Follow where it leads. And I guess that's the summation of this long-winded discussion of research and witchcraft and intuition. Follow where it leads.

"Ravens in the Library" Video