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I’m A Black Magic Woman.

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I was recently accused of practicing black magic. Yes, literally. Those exact words. Black. Magic.

Cue music, please.

I’m a black magic woman. Apparently. And I will admit that the epithet pisses me off, for it is rooted in fear and lies. It eats power. It creates illusion. As a general rule, I don’t stand for that. So let us embrace this, shall we? Shall we sing this song together, you and I? Yes, please.

Let us dive down into the source of these words and own the power ignorance has stolen away.

For only a fool takes this compliment and fails to master its meaning.

I’m a black magic woman, indeed I am. I have swum to the bottom of the sea and dined with the monsters there. They told me stories of my women, secrets of the waters we carry within that feed our souls and refresh our source. I use these tales to navigate the river of emotion that lives within and threatens to nurture and flood alike.

I share my water freely with those who need the power of the sea, the rush of the river, the clearing of the falls. I never hold back and I never dam the flow, all that I am and will ever be is yours for the taking. I share with you the power the sea shared with me.

And if you can’t dive or swim or float… that isn’t my fault.

I’m a black magic woman, you bet your ass, I am. I have crawled through the caves of suffering and shared fire with Hades himself. I have felt his bite and suffered his sting, and I have learned what it means to be mortal and small.

I have seen darkness and swallowed it whole, and felt it blaze through me with the force of the unseen sun. It burned the dross from my soul and left me with a clarity of source I did not know was real. I rose to the surface strong and true and patient and wise.

I know what it means to die and be born and to be grateful into the roots of my bones for that wondrous gift. I will share that experience with you. I will teach you how to go down into the tunnels and find yourself anew. And I will always be honest about its price.

But if that much reality blinds your eyes and rings your ears… that’s you, not me.

I’m a black magic woman, I sure as hell am. I have reached into the womb of the earth and bathed in the blood of creation.

I have felt life within me and harnessed that power to draw forth the miracle of being. I watch that miracle breathe and grow, and one day I shall see her bleed and I shall say, that there, that is the gift of the Mother herself. Be grateful and be blessed.

For to be a woman is to share the secrets of the Earth, to feel her life beating within you, calling you to purpose and a dharma that no man will ever understand. It is a mighty burden to be a woman of power, and I will tell you how to own that, feel that, be that. It is a beautiful responsibility whose truths I will not soften.

If you don’t want the work… that’s not my problem.

I do not dance with pixies and my dragons will not be tamed. I do not have time for empty incantations and pretty, useless words that sound good but mean nothing. I will not suffer those who will not suffer themselves to better themselves. I have no patience for blame-casting or glamor-making.

I know who I am and what I do. And it sure as shit isn’t sitting around thinking evil thoughts about you.

So thank you for the epithet; I think I shall make it my crown. I’m a Black Magic Woman. For sure.

T-shirts, anyone?

 

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