I am a Witch of quiet places. I wander the hedgerows with moss and twigs in my hair taking in the subtle energies of my region that feed my soul.  I practice my magick in a natural setting whether casting spells under a full moon are raising energy in a driving rainstorm, it is within nature's bower that I feel at home. 
       Like many of you, I dance to the beat of a drum of my own making- never caring how others perceive me.   I am me - weird, happy and thankful that I have been blessed to own a bit of land and raise my magickal family in a temperate rain forest in the pacific northwest along the banks of the Sauk River. 
      I have spent many years honing my skills as a magickal practitioner and was eager to share my knowledge the best way I knew how- through writing.  For a quiet Witch in tune with the spirits of her world- there is no better way to express the joy of her magickal world. One problem though...  I am not an extrovert- I am not good at selling myself. In fact, I'm probably the worst representative for a publishing house there is because my first bit of advice is- 'reference books are nice, but... ultimately, dear soul, you are your most powerful tool.  Trust your instincts and believe in your magick.' 
       Just as many of you identify- I am an intuitive empath who is easily overwhelmed by the energy of others.  When in a crowded room I feel like a porch light that draws so many moths that my light becomes smothered and I ultimately shut down.  Not only do I take in the light and lovely energies of warm and caring individuals, I absorb energies like anger, mistrust, arrogance and pain that feed my own insecurities and make me want to run as fast as I can back to my enchanted forest. 
      I know a lot of people who think I'm being silly and that I need to suck it up- but there is research that validates people like me.  Highly Sensitive Person or HSP disorder is a term used for people with sensory processing sensitivity.  It is found in about 4-5% of the population and is identified as an increased sensitivity of the central nervous system and a deeper cognitive processing of physical, social and emotional stimuli.   In other words... We are more aware than others of the subtle energies in play and process information deeply. We experience the world differently than others- which is kinda cool and (for me) makes sense and explains a lot about why I have always felt... different. 
       This takes me back to writing... As a writer for an independent publishing house, I was not aware of the amount of time I was to spend selling my own work- I get it now, but it has been really difficult for me (I've shed a lot of tears) because the process so contradicts who I am as a person and how I feel about social media.  So when asked if I could make it to PantheaCon for the launch of my recent book, I felt it was something I had to do because I knew I needed to amp up my participation. I am not rich, but I have a friend who lives in San Jose who I could stay with and thought this was the perfect time to meet fans, fellow writers and share some of my knowledge with others. 
      I planned and saved for the event; I purchased and gathered supplies; I played out being charming over and over in my mind; and I put together a magickal first aid kit (which I forgot at home to my chagrin).  I drove with a friend and my daughter and her partner nearly 20 hours before arriving exhausted but happy, at my dear friend's home. 
       PantheaCon was filled with gloriously eccentric souls (very much my people) and my class was small and intimate- creating an environment that was easy for me to connect with individuals as we mixed incense blends around a table in one of the suites. But as the day progressed, I felt my energy begin to drain- I could sense those who were not who they say they are and was finding it harder and harder to process everything that was happening all around me. 
       By the time the launch party had started, I was a shell of the being I was earlier in the day. The room was claustrophobic with people.  I watched as other authors gathered and chit-chatted with one another and I wanted to walk over and say, 'hello,' but I was frozen on the balcony.   The one time I did try to greet another author, I was answered with, 'excuse me,' and moved aside. They probably weren't even aware that I spoke. So in this room filled with amazing souls, who I know were most likely the misfits in school (just as I was), I was a misfit.  When the clock struck nine-forty, I gave my little spiel about my book and bolted. 
       On the long drive home I played the party over and over in my mind and came to the conclusion that I can't even be cool amongst my own tribe and I hated myself for it. 
       It wasn't until I arrived home that I thought long and hard- Yes, I am a misfit- a highly sensitive soul who will never be the life of the party.  I am a Witch who is comfortable growing  herbs, communing with the spirits of the land and creating magick in the most beautiful place on earth (to me).  We all have a role to play- we all have our own special magick to offer. We can't compare ourselves to others and for those who (like me) were 'blessed' with HSP disorder, we need to accept it as a gift and hone the special, magickal skills that comes with it.  Here are a few things that can help fellow HSP practitioners magickally navigate the overwhelming energies of our mundane world.
Stones for Practitioners who are Highly Sensitive
       Theses stones make a great addition to a magickal first-aid kit or to be worn next to the skin when in a charged situation:
 Rose Quartz: restores harmony and loving vibrations
Labradorite: protection from over-thinking and insecure thoughts
Jet: draws away negative energy- supports positive vibes
Amythst: attracts positive vibes and protects against negativity
Blue Lace Agate: promotes peace and harmony
Citrine: for balancing energy
Moonstone: calms and soothes stress
Hemitite: absorbs negative energy
Quartz Crystal: restores and regulates energy
Dragon Stone: promotes strength
Obsidian: healing, strengthening, protection  

Herbs for Highly Sensitive Practitioners
Activate your innate healing abilities with these herbs:
Agrimony: healing and restoration
Angelica: summoning strength- banishing negative vibes
Birch: psychic protection
Calendula: repairs aura and provides energetic protection
Cedar: protection and cleansing
Chamomile: relaxes energy and allows you to become more receptive
Cinnamon: shields negativity
Comfrey: restoration and healing
Fennel: relaxation, healing and focus
Ginger: releases frustration and brings contentment 
Hibiscus: Acceptance of self
Lavender: relaxes the mind and aids in letting go
Lemon Balm: restoration and harmony
Nettle: helps reset both body and mind
Peppermint: promotes healing and loving vibes
Orange peel: uplifting and centering
Rose: understanding and healing- self-love
Rosemary: clears negative vibes
Sage: clears negative energy
Thyme: aids in clear communication
Valerian: transmutes negativity 
Vervain: healing

Magickal Healing First Aid Kit 
 As empaths or HSPs we are extremely open to the energies of others.  This little kit is designed to be portable for on-the-spot grounding, cleansing and protection. Use the above stones and/or herbs in the combination that works best for you.
Your kit will include: 
Three stones of your choice. Place stones in your pocket to absorb energy.  I like to have Labradorite, Moonstone and a beautiful Obsidian arrowhead.  (you can wear your favorite protective stones as jewelry too- I just like to have them somewhere close where I can use them as I would a worry stone). 
Sage Smudge Spray 
Use this spray to quickly rid yourself of negative vibes.  You will need:
2oz glass bottle with spray head 
1oz distilled water 
1 tsp. vodka/pure grain alcohol 
10 drops Sage essential oil 
4 drops lavender essential oil 
Pinch of sea salt 
Put ingredients in the bottle and charge it to purify and promote healing vibration
Shielding Oil
The shielding properties of cinnamon and cedar combined with the uplifting scent of orange make for a great inclusion to our magickal first-aid kit.  Place a dab at your temples and pulse points as needed.
You will need:
1/3 oz carrier oil (grapeseed or fractionated coconut oil are great)
5 drops cinnamon oil
3 drops cedar oil
2 drops orange oil
glass roll or vial
mix and add to glass vial- shake and allow to sit overnight before use. 

Keep your stones, spray and oil in a drawstring bag that can be tucked into a bag or your luggage for long trips and use as needed.  

Other quick dispelling techniques:
​*Keep a pot of garden soil on your porch or balcony to quickly plunge your hands into when you need a quick grounding
*Hug a tree- Large trees can handle your excess energy. If you're in a park or your back yard and need a quick release- this works great.
*Magickal code word- Have a magickal code word that represents energy release to you and yell out whenever needed.
​
For more information on transformative magick- check out my book available wherever books are sold
  

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“Yes, Mama.” I wiped the sleep from my eyes.  The darkness still hung heavy in the sky, though the first of the morning bird song had already begun to seep through cracked windows. 
 “Your cereal is on the stand by Dad’s chair and I’ve turned on the cartoons.  Mommy will be right back.”  She kissed my head and I stumbled to the recliner where I had spent the early hours of every morning for the better part of the year.  “Try not to wake your sisters.” 
 “I know, Mamma.”  I curled up on the recliner where the leather was warm and held the scent of my Dad’s aftershave lotion.  The cartoons blinked in and out, and I stirred my cereal that had already become soggy- just the way I liked it.  My three little sisters softly slept in their 
rooms and I knew everything was going to be okay because I was 8-years-old, the big sister, who knew she was strong enough to take on the job. 
My father has epilepsy.  The disease had slowly taken from him a lot of the freedoms most of us take for granted.  His ability to drive had been the latest- so my mother got up with him every morning at 4am, fixed his breakfast and packed his lunch before waking me so I could watch my younger siblings, who ranged in age from 1 to 6-years-old, while she drove my father the 40-mile round trip to his place of employment.  She would always return to find me still 
vigilant- then send me back to bed to catch a couple more hours of sleep before school.  I was okay with my responsibility and I understood why she didn’t want to wake up four little girls and pack them all in the car every morning.   Sometimes, one of my baby sisters would stir.  I would hear her muffled cries and would be by her side as quickly as I could.  “Hush, now,” I would say, “I’m here and everything is okay.”   
 As we grew older, I was the one who led my sisters through darkened woods and dilapidated outbuildings full of spooks and creatures of unknown origin and when they could no 
longer contain their fear, it was I who yelled, “Stop screaming. I’m with you and everything is going to be okay.” They would calm down because they knew they were protected- big sister will keep the boogeyman at bay.  
 As we became teens and young adults, my role shifted from protector from physical harm to that of guardian of secrets.  Most were childish confidences- crushes whose names were to never be revealed or juvenile antics that needed to be purged.  A few were life-changing- the kind of information that once accepted can bear heavy and burdensome upon one’s heart- and no matter how many years may pass- their revelation would prove painful.  But no matter the secret, 
my words were the same, “Not to worry. Everything is going to be okay.” Because they knew their big sister would never betray nor judge them. 
The years went by- we grew up and moved on.  My role shifted- from big sister to mother and wife.  Responsibilities shifted- no longer protecting the 3 wild-haired sisters from monsters under the bed, but now protecting my own wild-hearted witchlings (mostly from themselves) as their youth was filled with high jinx and exploration that on more than one occasion required emergency room visits. But as I held cloths on bleeding wounds and distracted their gaze from 
broken limbs or carried them away from the contraption they had built and fallen from, I would meet their gaze and I knew what they wanted to hear, “Hush, Baby- everything is going to be okay.”  And everything was okay because they knew Mommy was there and mommy’s always made things better. 
 
It was the same with my marriage- whether it was due to job loss, illness or injury, during the times we were left struggling emotionally and/or financially, my husband would walk around in a storm cloud- unable to clearly process the circumstances we were left with.   So, it was up to 
me to swallow back the anxiety, straighten my shoulders and look him in the eyes.  “Everything’s going to be okay.” I would say. “I’ve got this.” And I took control.   And he let me because he knew I was strong and capable of handling the emotional load.  
And so it was with friends and extended family- “Monica, I know how good you are with words could you please write an essay for me by tomorrow.  I completely spaced it and I’m freaking out!  It has to be 5 pages and your choice of essay topics are attached.” 
 “Monica, no one else wants to be a board member and we’re desperate. Could you help 
out?” 
 “Monica, we need someone to help with our organization’s holiday program- by the way, we can’t find anyone to dress up as Mrs. Claus this year- could you help out?” 
 “Don’t worry,” I would say, “everything is going to be okay.  I’ll help.”   They knew this to be true because I was dependable and level-headed and known to get things done. 

​ But as the years slowly crept by, I found myself feeling muddled and unfulfilled and by the time I hit my mid-forties, I felt what I can only describe as a sense of loss.  The day before my 46th birthday, just as storm clouds boiled above the bluff that rises above my homestead to the south, I decided to go to the garden to wait for the approaching storm and to ponder my accomplishments.  I had done well-  I had helped to create a home from scratch and I raised an 
amazing family (and nobody starved).  I took on the
responsibility of schooling my own children and the children of others when there was a need.   I carried many a burden for friends and family, so they would not have to feel anxiety or defeat; I helped in the community and gave of 
my time.  Everyone liked me, I thought and weakly smiled as the first big plops began to fall.  But wait a minute- what had I accomplished for me?  I had taken care of others my whole 
life and put others needs before my own because that is what I was taught a good person does- but in doing so, I had forgotten to take care of me.  And in that forgetting- I lost a piece of myself. 
 I gazed to the storm clouds that now boiled and roared above the bluff that guards my home and remembered the exhilaration I had felt standing on its peak looking over the land that I’m so intrinsically connected with. It had been years since I had hiked the bluff- it was time I 
did it again.  I climbed with purpose- and as I swept back heavy conifer branches and overgrown elder 
and salmonberry bushes, I asked myself what made me special?  I was uncomfortable with my answer, as it was not a practice in my family to ‘brag.’  But with each exhale of breath, I managed to answer- I am unique; I am creative; I write well; I can draw; under my hand- gardens bloom. 

 As I continued up the switchbacks and tripped over roots of giant trees who clung precariously to the steep bluff, I asked myself, what have you done with your gifts?  My internal 
list checked many items that included: 
I wrote plays and designed sets for various youth organizations 
I planned engaging lesson-plans and lectures for our homeschooling association and for WSU extension’s Master Gardener program.  
I designed and wrote newsletters for my coven’s day camp participants and for various ecological organizations. 
 At this point, I had come to the top of the bluff, thunder crashed, and rain pelted.  I stood for a moment and let the wind and rain hit my face.  I wanted to feel the sting- I needed the reminder that I was alive and strong and passionate.  I stepped as close to the edge as I dared.  
It’s funny how perception can change your reality.  I saw my home, which encompassed my whole world and at times had felt a burden, look small and insignificant from my vantage point.  The world felt more open than it had in a while and made me wonder who I was- where was my 
place in this world and was I too old to attempt to make my mark.   
 I am many things to many people- I am the keeper of the home; I am mother; I am daughter; I am sister; I am spouse; I am priestess.   I am organizer and doer and maker and 
mediator.  I am protector and caretaker and teacher and friend.  So, my question was, as I looked 
out across the majestic Sauk River Valley, who am I to me? 
 I took a breath and released it- whisperings of inadequacy stroked my ears, ‘Selfish, selfish, girl. Only thinking about herself.’ I shivered and let the thoughts dissolve with the rain that had soaked me thoroughly.  Another intake of breath and with all of the voice I could muster, I released these words into existence: 
I am a writer! 
My words will inspire! 
My words will evoke introspection! 
My words will delight!  
My words will be read!  
When I came off the bluff, I felt good- in fact, I was giddy.  I knew after releasing my intention into the universe I had to follow through by putting my power into action.  I set up a writing space for myself and hung an inspiration board above my computer. The very first quote I tacked to the board was the popular last line from Mary Oliver’s poem, ‘The Summer Day,’ that asks what will you do with this one wild and precious life? And when I doubted myself, I looked to that quote and replied. “I will be a writer.”   I researched publishers I thought would be good fit and put together samples and queries.    I took it seriously and when asked to commit to another obligation that would affect my writing time- I allowed myself to say no- guilt free. 
So now- what are you doing with your one wild and precious life?   Personally-  I will spend more time tending the garden of my soul- I will write stories and I will do it for me and everything (and everyone else)…is going to be okay. 
 
 
                                     Cry like a Banshee 
 
                             Spell for Self-Affirmation 
 
 I mentioned earlier a line from a poem by Mary Oliver that you are probably already familiar with where she poses the question: what will you do with your one wild and precious 
life?  Ask yourself, are you living a life that is fulfilling to your soul?  Maybe you are giving everything to your job or sacrificing yourself so that others may thrive.  It’s time to stop for a moment and reflect on you. 
 What is it that your wild soul longs for?  To train for an athletic event or perhaps learn a new skill, or better yet, reacquaint yourself with a passion you gave up on too long ago. 
 For this spell we will climb the mountain (literally or figuratively) and call upon the Banshee as we let go 
of what no longer serves us and cry out our dreams/and or positive intentions for ourselves into existence. 
You will not need any special tools for this spell- only your voice. 
  Banshee are female faerie spirits who, according to legend, are said to be attached to particular families of Irish heritage and whose cries foretell the death of an individual.  She is a 
shape-shifter who may appear as an old woman or a young maid and is typically dressed in white, but has also been known to wear green or red.   In Scotland she was known as Bean Nighe and is seen as a washer woman washing a death shroud near a stream.   Banshee are not to be feared and can be called upon in spell work for the death of old habits, change in circumstances or the release of negativity.  
 Though it would be great if you could do this spell on a hill, bluff or mountain- it’s not necessary.  You can stand on your balcony, porch, deck or on a steady chair- anything that 
elevates you.
Before you begin, ground and center yourself in your own way.  If you are hiking up a hill to perform this- use the walk as a form of meditation.  Pay attention to the rhythm of 
your breath and focus on your intention with every step.  If you are performing this at your home, meditate for a few moments before you begin and focus on your intention.   
Call upon the Banshee by saying: 
'I ask for the courage to let go those things That no longer complete me. Banshee let your cry be heard as I release all anxiety and self-neglect completely.' 
 When you feel her presence- join her cry.  Let it all out- this is the reclamation of your wild soul- release all of the neglect that you have inflicted on yourself.  When you have finished, take a moment to collect yourself and thank the Banshee for her assistance in your own way.   Now you are ready to release your passion into existence.  
Whether you have hiked a hill, mountain, knoll or any other natural rise, or are standing on your balcony, deck or a steady chair- position yourself where you have a good view of the landscape- take it all in and remind yourself that you are unique and that your talents/ skills/passions matter.   
Now yell out as loud as you can what will exist for you.  As you do this- see yourself successful in your hobby/job/passion whatever you feel serves you to live a purposeful life.      
Now that you have done this, remember, as practitioners, we are our most powerful tool and it’s up to you to put your power into action.  Follow through and live your dreams.