Treasury Of Goddess Lakshmi: Ostara Abundance Magick For A Witch Most Worthy.
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Priestess of the Spring Moon, this season of abundance and grace ground-swells under your bare feet like Gaia’s birth-waters have broken; there’s no going back now.
Surrounded by glamorous magick you are! I see you drinking in the intoxicating scents of fuzzy newborn skin and hyacinth buds.
The storm has left the sky a sweet baby blue just for you, and each token of this Great Equinox buzzes with feminine fertility as you gather your coin-filled eggs with so much love and purpose. Your Ostara basket is nearly full, my love.
Your arms are covered in goose-pimples, but you are not ready to go home.
It was still much too cold, but you put the sundress on anyway. Spring beckons you forward, but Winter’s shadow-hands still cling to your chilled ankles.
You long to give yourself up to the dewy grass and deep mud, to bathe in the frigid stream, and to forego the responsibilities of the good girl.
You, a Witch most worthy, have been indoctrinated with a profound untruth: you cannot be both wild and wealthy, they say. You must choose between your tree-climbing and your schoolwork, your traveling and your rootedness.
Your wild-woman ways are all fine and dandy when you’re young, but enough’s enough. Your money will never be covered in pink-gold glitter, and you cannot temple-dance with your bank account.
Money is not sexy, and there are no women on these paper bills of ours.
Distraught, you sink into the chilly ground with all that you are, letting your money-pregnant eggs spill all over the still-brown grass. A paper bill pops out from a blue shell, uncoiling with possibility.
Snatching it, you let it sit unfolded in your hand for a time, studying the stern face of a man you will never know, a man long-gone.
Had you the materials, you Priestess of Paint, you would color in between these green lines with magenta and periwinkle. Why so dull, this energy medium of ours? Why so unforgiving?
Hasn’t this pitiful reflection of true wealth been unbeauteously designed? You toss it aside. Your currency is so much better, and the Treasury of the Goddess is far more bountiful than any cemented fort.
Sighing, you lie back on the cold ground, and mud cakes in your hair. Look to the divine sky. Wealthy you are, my love, and a rainbow beams the brightest of colors straight down from a pale half-moon. She is beckoning you, you see.
Follow this beacon like it is a heaven-sent railroad track straight to your soul-treasure. That’s right; leave your basket where it is. Get up, you Bountiful Priestess, walk to the end of this rainbow and find what awaits you there.
Oh, my love! I see you standing on trembling legs and struggling to move. Your feet are stuck in the Spring mud, and they have told you that feminine abundance is a lie.
Do not believe them, Woman, for no other soul has ever deserved more than you. Will your legs to move and walk to where that rainbow ends. Do it now, for Lakshmi waits for you there.
You hear Her sing your name long before you see Her, and this Goddess’ voice ebbs and flows like slow waves in an ocean of pink-gold glitter. As you move through the brown wet field, toward the rainbow’s end, the air grows warmer.
Dear One, the sun is coming out! Let the sacred beams feed your hungry Winter-worn skin and smile. Show that golden sphere your teeth, and let Him know you remember who He is.
He remembers you, this solar masculine, this light of pure consciousness, and He wants nothing more in this moment than for you to find Lakshmi.
You see, this sacred masculine sun and divine feminine goddess go way back, and their his-her story is not the one you have been told.
They know what true abundance is, and they know your wealth is much better qualified than quantified. Ask yourself now, before you finally cast your gaze on Lakshmi, ask yourself what it is you most deeply value.
Had you one month left to live, what would you do with those precious days? Now, my love, ask yourself why.
Why would you seek out that long-lost friend, or create that luscious painting, or finally kiss those lips you’ve been wanting for so long? The answer, you wealthy Witch, is that you hold friendship, or creativity, or sensuality as most dear.
If you are abundant in those things that feed your wild soul, then you, my high-class Witch, are truly rich.
Lakshmi sees you now, and you see Her. She’s jewel-laden and makes no apologies for it, as she sits on her lotus throne. This Goddess drips with the abundance of life, and She cares not for the currency you left back in that muddy field.
Tell Her now what it is your soul values. Is it freedom? Is it family? Is it flowers?
Don’t ask Her to send you a windfall of careless cash, for those bills are only a means of transferring energy — an indoctrinated act of exchanging these meaningless objects for what you’re told you need.
Lakshmi’s currency is much more fluid, but you have to make room for Her. Go sit at Her feet. Let Her tell you what it is you need to sacrifice. After all, if you desire an abundance of flowers, you must first clear the land in your garden!
Lakshmi calls you to toss out the nuts you gathered for Winter that remain uneaten. She will not show up to organize your hoard, but She will be there once you’ve made a clean bed for Her.
Go home now, you wealthy Woman. Go home and clear a space for this Goddess of the highest worth. Purge that which is taking up space in your energetic safety deposit box. Do you really need all those eggs?
Do you really value what’s inside of them? Only what’s for you, my love. You want only what’s for you. Take no more. Take no less.
Lakshmi’s nod is a farewell sign. Head home, but don’t go the way you came.
The time of the burgeoning sun is here, and you will manifest the most brilliant of your dreams, the ones that seemed impossible, the ones that seemed to live only in that head of yours. Now, my love, now you make those dreams a reality.
Talk about them; don’t keep secrets. Love them, though they may consume your energy these next few months. Act to bring them to fruition, and celebrate even the smallest of dreamy wins.
You are a woman most wealthy, and feminine abundance means you need not forget to run wild in the woods. On these first warm days of Spring, let sunlight be your currency, if only for a few short moments. Rich you are, my love.
You are a Priestess whose lineage extends far back into the grandest of bloodlines. Gaia is your mother, and the sun is your father. Your trust fund is your garden, and your inheritance is the fertile mud.
Revel in this global estate of yours, my rich Witch, and rule your world like the wise Empress you are.
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Danielle Dulsky is a multi-passionate entrepreneur, energy-healer, Yoga teacher, multi-media artist, and magickal mentor. She holds the highest designation from Yoga Alliance as an E-RYT500, and is on a mission to inspire women to be fearless creators of their sacred work. She is the founder and creatrix of the Living Mandala Yoga teacher training programs, a Reiki Master in the Usui-Tibetan tradition, and long-time believer in Earth-based traditions. Her work is based on sensing and transforming energetic vibrations, empowering individuals to discover their potential for authentic abundance, using artistic practice intuitively, and holding space for women to unearth their inner goddess through the magick of sisterhood. Danielle leads women circles, witchcraft workshops, a teaching coven, and psychic development intensives in Phoenixville, Pennsylvania where she lives with her partner Ryan, sons Bodhi and Sage, and pet-familiars Jeepster and Raven. She believes that all women alive today are meant to be instrumental in supporting the return of the Divine Feminine. You could contact her via email.
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