I submit to awe of Earth, Sun, Moon, Storm, Sea, Wind, Stone, Fire, Rain, and Forest.
I practice the old magics of hospitality, reciprocity, story, and sympathy.
I choose to belong to myself.
I frame my choices around the ethics of care and connection.
I have many allies, ancestors, and descendants on the path. I am never alone.
I take as wild, holy scripture anything that compels me to laugh, cry, sing, or dance. I take poetry for scripture, as well as the cardboard sign carried by a drawn, sunburned man who regularly stands at the corner of Braker and 183. “This could be you,” his sign says.
I assert that spellwork is simply a particular kind of prayer, which is itself one of the most enduring and effective techniques for human transformation.
I believe that just as prayers are made by people, prayers are usually answered by people.
I have faith that life loves the liver.
I create art, and art recreates me.
I am a divine human animal.
I am brave enough to serve my shadow selves tea.
My only real home is the ground beneath my feet, which is at once constant and changing.