This is one of those rambling pieces of writing that began on one topic and then went in a different direction. It’s a busy week of Pagan holidays, which, it turns out, has strengthened my need to keep silent.
I’ve recently written about how I like to begin my year slowly. January was a good month of preparation, quiet reflection, and adjusting to new responsibilities. It was what I needed after a hectic December. Still, it feels like January passed by quickly, and, as soon as February arrived, life sped up.
Melbourne is quiet in January. School is out, and many people are still travelling. Invasion Day on 26 January feels like the unofficial last day of the summer holiday season. This week, school has started, and traffic is terrible again. My workload also increased, and many special Pagan days took place.
This week, we had a Dark Moon, which I observed in honour of Hekate; Imbolc, which I celebrated in honour of Brigid with my community in the Northern Hemisphere; and Lughnassadh, which I observed quietly alone.
2 February is also the feast of Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria, Our Lady of the Candle, a Black Madonna and patron of the Canary Islands. Her centre of worship is on the island of Tenerife. Canarians represent a large percentage of Spanish immigration to Cuba since 1492. I suppose they brought La Candelaria with them because she is well known in Cuba and is syncretised with Oya, the orisha of wind, lightning, the rainbow, and the cemetery, among other things. So, it was Oya’s feast day as well. I also dismantled my January altar and built my February one. And, this Imbolc weekend, my coven holds its annual dedication, so it’s not all over yet.
I don’t have a lot to say about these observances just yet. I write to process, and I’m big on sharing, but I’m also a Witch that believes in keeping silent.
To Keep Silent
‘To Keep Silent’ (or ‘To Keep Silence’) is part of a magickal philosophy first articulated by the French occultist and writer Éliphas Lévi (1810–1875), which I’ve come to know as the Witches’ Pyramid. We can understand the value of silence in various ways.
It’s the silence of my morning practice, of stillness and training my mind so that I can listen better to my inner voice, to my ancestors, spirits, and gods. It’s the silence of taking deep breaths to calm down, ground, centre, and collect my thoughts. It’s the silence of inner peace. Silence is also a refreshing antidote to the notification buzzes and beeps, honking cars, loud people, and general noise that often surrounds us.
We can share silence. It is actively listening to a friend or client, or in memory of a deceased person. It is discretion, the silence of protecting the oath-bound secrets of a tradition, the identity of fellow Witches, the location of a meeting place, and the activities enjoyed together within sacred space. Silence is also about protecting magick.
Magick is powerful and yet fragile. Like a bird sitting on her eggs, magick needs to be incubated and allowed to take form and then percolate, grow, activate, and do its work without interference or influence from anyone other than its magician parent(s). Some of it also is just a desire for a certain amount of privacy. So, I will share glimpses of my altar and shrines, but rarely the whole thing. I will tell you about my magick after it’s complete. I will tell you a bit about my devotion. But not today.
