"A witch is born out of the true hungers of her time."
-Ray Bradbury
My Great Uncle Ron is dying this weekend. This isn't national news. But my mourning for Ron is tangled up with my mourning for America, and for the reverberating impact this week's election will have on all the living beings of this suffering planet. I mourn every single life that will be made harder, more fear and pain-filled, more cancerous and dangerous as a result of billionaires distorting our collective access to history and science and care.
Uncle Ron was in a train accident when he was a young man, so he lived with chronic pain. He spent a lot of his life poor and frustrated. But he fell in love in his 50s with a woman named Filly who had been treated as though she was severely intellectually disabled throughout her childhood, sent away to live in an insane asylum at 6, though in fact her only disability was that she was deaf. By the time she met Ron she had carved out an independent life for herself, and she was the most kind and joyful person Ron (or I) had ever met.
Nearing the end of her life, Filly chose to move into an old folks home for the deaf, so she could finally be surrounded by people with whom she could communicate with ease. My Uncle Ron moved their trailer as close as he could get to the home so he could walk to be with her every day... which meant he parked right next to a train track that carried shipping containers all day and night. All of life is a circle.
Our covenmate Michelle shared the Harry Chapin song Circle with us in our last New Moon circle and it came into my mind this week as I woke to the election news, and the news about Great Uncle Ron.
It seems like I've been here before
I can't remember when
But I got this funny feeling
That I'll be back once again
There's no straight lines make up my life
And all my roads have bends
There's no clear-cut beginnings
And so far no dead-ends
[Verse 2]
I found you a thousand times
I guess you've done the same
But then we lose each other
It's just like a children's game
But as I see you here again
The thought runs through my mind
Our love is like a circle
Let's go 'round one more time
[Chorus]
Oh, all my life's a circle
Sunrise and sundown
The moon rolls through the nighttime
'Til the daybreak comes around
The good and the terrifying both return. We find each other, and we get hearts broken. It's not the first time we've watched election results come in that drag me into my darkest fears for the future. Not the first time I fear the world will end or at least be unmeasureably more awful as a result of decisions made by millions of people whose choices and worldview I can't fathom. Not the first time an election somewhere in the world has made me fear for my safety in this body as a woman, or for the safety of my trans and queer kin, or for our neighbours, or children, or people seeking safe harbour.
I am rooting myself in this darkening season in the fact of our circles. The circles of rot, decay, and fertile growth. The circles of life and death. The circles we make across boundary lines to spread information and to gather power.
The last time Uncle Ron came to visit us he brought us a small plant with sturdy green leaves and bright orange flowers, small and multiple like stars. Today that plant has been sprouted and split into dozens of pots around our house and the houses of our family and friends. Turns out it was one of the first plants brought to space. The long view of how we can grow, and where we can go, and how far our roots extend is a small comfort to me now, and so I offer it to you.
Other things that helped a bit this week:
Gather offline. Find your people. You don't have to plan anything right away but maybe you want to just plan to meet again, to be in solidarity with each other, maybe to be equipped to protect those who will be attacked. It's a good time to not be alone and help each other not be alone. But you don't have to organize right now. We find comfort in each other in person. I'm doing it. - Rebecca Solnit
Do not obey in advance. Much of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then start to do it without being asked. You've already done this, haven't you? Stop. Anticipatory obedience teaches authorities what is possible and accelerates unfreedom. - Timothy Snyder, 20 Lessons from the 20th Century on How to Survive in Trump’s America, November 21, 2016
How to prepare to live under Project 2025 - some useful ideas here for how to break this down. Think about what medications you will need, if you can store up things like Narcan, Plan B, Mifepristone or other things that might be useful in your community.
Find a Mutual Aid group near you - USA + How to start a Mutual Aid Network.
From Julia Skinner's substack:
What ideas are you hoarding like fancy craft supplies, waiting for the day when you'll be "a good enough writer" or have enough time or whatever else?
Now is the time to take out those big, big ideas, dust them off, and take steps towards making them happen.
This is the moment where we as creatives are being called to bring our no-holds-barred, full, luscious creative spirits forward.
Even though yes, it does not feel super safe or maybe even feasible to be visible right now. Let yourself grieve, lean into your community, and rest. Your wellbeing is one of the resources you bring to this metaphorical craft night.
So rest a bit, then, in a few days or a few weeks, come join us and bring your biggest ideas, your most outlandish creations, your possibilitarian perspectives, and that nice paint and new pen.
From The Death Witch on Instagram:
Today we commit to building real & lasting communities. We will not give up on one another. Today we do our best to not give in to blame. We will not cannibalize one another, that serves no one. Today we will allow ourselves to mourn. Today we recognize that we have a responsibility to vulnerable people in our communities. We Lock arms around them. Today we rest if needed. Then we organize. Today we are reminded that more than ever, we must stand together to create a path forward. Today we are reminded that we don't shrink. Today we remember who the fuck we are. We take care of us.
We will thrive because our ancestors did. Today we set lights for the ancestors of revolutions past. Today we nourish our hearts with community, love, ideas & honesty. Today, we may+feel fear, but we will not succumb to it. Hope is the razors edge to creating a new world. Take it to your altar.
Lastly,
Our covenmate Teela wrote this poem about our accidental Missing Witches rallying cry Blessed Fucking Be and right now feels like the right time to share.
A call to all
Who feel adrift
Those who don't quite fit
We welcome you
For who you are
Into our coven
Of weird witches
From near and far
Different though we may be
We are a unique family
We have your back
In the mundane and the magical
Come to the circles
Open your heart
Share who you are
We promise to honor your vulnerability
To hold you gently
You are safe here
If you need us
We are here
Don’t ever fear
We are witches
We don't conform
We stand for those who can't
We raise our voices for issues people want to forget
In a world were we are told to be meek
We say blessed fucking be
As you journey out from here
Remember the words we hold dear
Have an amazing day
Be Magical
Be the light and the dark
Speak your mind
Stand up for what you believe
And say
Blessed Fucking Be
Invitations
Weavers Co-Working Cauldron
11 Nov, Monday, 12:00 – 1:30 PM EST
Astro Chat: Scorpio Season
12 Nov, Tuesday, 7:00 – 8:00 PM EST
Weavers Full Moon Loom: Grass Roots
13 Nov, Wednesday, 8:00 – 9:30 PM EST
Book Love Club - YA Witches + What They Can Teach Us
17 Nov, Sunday, 1:00 – 2:00 PM EST
✨
Let's remember we're connected, let's be together in these dark cold days of the year, and always. Let's nurture the great world-building spell that is our hope, and lend support to our conjuring of more just tomorrows.
Hope locates itself in the premises that we don’t know what will happen and that in the spaciousness of uncertainty is room to act. When you recognize uncertainty, you recognize that you may be able to influence the outcomes–you alone or you in concert with a few dozen or several million others. Hope is an embrace of the unknown and knowable, a alternative to the certainty of both optimists and pessimists.
― Rebecca Solnit, Hope in the Dark: The Untold History of People Power
Love you! BFB!!
oxoA+R
