I sincerely have reservations about myself and what I am about to say. About what I am about to write. Every single person - regardless of their path - has darkness. It’s part of the human nature.
There are times I want to take a metal file to my own skin to scrape off the ugly, let’s not talk about it parts of my soul. Those parts of myself I deem to ugly to come into the light - the beast within. There are moments I wish the beast could come out to play - to learn how to be refined by the cleansing spirit of my own blood.
For a Black Witch, there are vast eco-systems within the blood. Within the DNA. We swallow our pride and allow the darkest parts of our mind to play tricks on reality. When the skin is torn by the dagger, the blood comes out and an energy is released. Not good. Nor bad.
Darkness is the privacy of the soul where the bridges get burned and relationship cords chopped in pieces. What few understand, we all posess it. We all have darkness. Shadow work is a never ending process. A never ending lifetime of work.
Not all witches are dark. Not all witches are light. Some walk a fine line. Some understand the balance of the eco-systems within their souls. Rebirth - the baptism of thyself - happens each time we unpeel a layer of the onion of our darkness to overcome brutal things.
I know my Dragons. I know the demons I have to face. The heartbeat of the earth keeps on walking in the mist of the drought. Among the silent voices in the corridor of time, in space. It’s a blackness which cannot be avoided in the sacred part of morning. Or mourning the past, knowing it cannot change.
I need the rains to come. I need the skies to drum and light to flash across the sky. The earth is not healing herself, she’s going through a disease. The ancestors hold tight to the ones who need the tides to wash away the sands of shame.
So, on the night of the Summer Soltice, when the sun hits the grove of the four trees - I will metaphorically plunge the black dagger into my heart, unleashing the beast. A bridge will burn between my past and my beginning. The blood - a substitute blood - will flow down my chest as the tears come.
For, inside, we all posses a darkness that needs to come out. Where we need to be reborn. And renewed. Where the ancestors finally uncover gate number one, whispering - It’s time.
Excommunication is not the option. It’s going directly to a High Priest, demanding your name be removed. That is bravery. That is darkness - knowing you can be kind and still walk with your head held high in the face of adversity.
Darkness opens into light.