2017 has started off with a lot of introspection.
Something got me interested in Wicca again, soon after the new year. I can’t call myself Wiccan, just like I can’t call myself lots of things, but I’m a student of everything I can get my hands on, and I remain open to new ideas, or old ones. I like the idea of ritual, as much as I avoid it, and I’m feeling particularly in need of being close to the Earth, so of course, my right-now-interest in Wicca is apropos.
During my research, I’ve had some pretty powerful visions.
I envisioned a ritual in which I wash pennies, preparing them for use in a wishing well. It wasn’t a ritual I had read about; the ritual came to me when somewhere along the way I read the words “wishing well”. While washing the pennies, I remove all previous purposes and thoughts, good and bad, associated with the pennies, so they can be used with pure purpose in this wishing well. I release the previous purposes of the pennies into the universe, so if any previous wish placed on them can be finished if it isn’t already. It’s a cleansing and a blessing ritual.
So I’m at my desk in the early morning, writing snippets of thoughts that I can later turn into full-blown blog posts, and I write a snippet on how the tidying of my home — not just the cleaning with a mop and bucket, but also the organization and placement of items I own. I look at my surroundings and think about what I want my space to be, and I realize just how far I’ve come. Things have changed very slowly, but suddenly I could see the change, and the light at the tunnel.
I look up at the title of my snippet, which is just “Cleaning”. I realize that it isn’t just about cleaning — I’ve changed my thoughts about cleaning. It’s been a CLEAN change — not a tidy change, but a change in thoughts about tidyness. I change it to “Clean Change“. I think about the variations of that title I could use: Cleaning Change, Changing Clean, Changing Cleaning. I think about the subtle double meanings in those title possibilities — I have a hard time writing without thinking about subtle plays on words, even if the joke is just for me — and wonder how I could make them into even more interesting puns. I think about clean change, about washing pennies for a wishing well, and I realize, for the millionth time, that everything happens for a reason.