Wicca Wicca Whack

I'm sitting cross-legged in front of my window and focusing all my attention on the wine bottle in front of me. The Wicca website that I googled said that you have to focus your thoughts on the candle -- but I want to make sure the candle holder is in the loop as well.

Career Success. Money flows easily towards me. My phone rings constantly with job offers and business opportunities. I am a success. I am a success. I am a success.

Career Success. Money flows effortlessly towards me. It likes me. I attract it. My phone will not stop ringing with money-making opportunities. I am successful beyond my wildest dreams. I am successful beyond my wildest dreams. I am successful beyond my --

"Iz dis one ok, Mia?" Consuela nudges me and I open my eyes. She's holding a green candle that I asked her to go find.

"Yes. That's good. Maybe a little too light green -- but good! So, where's the Tiger's Eye?"

I've found a spell on google and I intend to use it. I'm not going down without a fight. Sure, bankruptcy is on the horizon; but if magic worked for the emancipated business women of the 1600s, then it's gotta throw my ass a bone at the very least.

"Iz you sure we should do dis?" Consuela asks surreptitiously. She's afraid of magic. Back home in Panama something horrible happened to one of the neighboring villagers after they had their tarot cards read; and as a result, she's been hesitant to help me with this.

"Yes!" I snap back at her. I have no patience for neigh-sayers or pussys. "We have to do this. Back in the 1600s, single women were branded as witches. They were burned at the stake for being successful -- you know, land owners and what not. In any case, they were branded witches because they didn't marry; either by choice or not -- and their land was...surprise surprise...absorbed by the men who labelled them as such. In any case, they knew the power of words -- came up with a few good tried and true mental exercises, and 400 years later I intend to use them. Alright?"

Consuela squints her eyes at me. She can hate me all she wants. A little money spell never hurt anyone.

"OK," I say, "put the green candle in the holder, but make sure you first focus on all the good intentions you want to come out of it. Think of something material you would like to see happen as a result of the money that is about to come in."

Consuela wraps her chubby fingers around the candle, and I wrap my hands around hers.

"Now," I instruct, "close your eyes and think really hard about what you want to happen, ok?"

"Mia," she whines with her eyes closed, "I don't sink dis iz a good idear. Da magic iz dangerous."

My blood starts to boil from her lack of co-operation. Is it too much to ask for a little support when the going gets tough? Am I really hurting anyone by burning a candle and hoping it will bring me a little money?

"Shut the hell up!" I tell her. "If you don't co-operate it won't work. And, do you really want that? Do you really want to see me file for bankruptcy and move into the box beside you? You've seen how hard I've been working, writing and crying my friggen ass off -- and now when we're almost near the finish line and the going is getting a little rough, now you want to bail on me? Are you fucking kidding me?"

I hear her whimper, but I don't care. She should know better. Fear is for pussys!

"Now," I tell her, "have you thought of something in your mind that you would like to enjoy once the money starts coming in?"

Consuela nods, "OK, good, now...just focus on that for a little bit. I need to create mental pictures too. Whatever you do -- don't let your mind wander, alright?"

She nods again, and I then close my eyes and start to imagine the bank manager that denied me an emergency line of credit crying solemnly at their desk when she realizes they've lost out on millions because I'm going with another bank. Then I start to see myself being wined and dined by people who are happy to do business with me. Big players. We're laughing on a nice rooftop patio before we get into one of our helicopters and fly to the coast for the weekend.

Sigh.

"OK," I said to her. "Now, put the candle in the holder."

Consuela fidgets with the candle until she manages to secure it into the empty wine bottle. I chose that bottle because it was one that I had saved -- from a nice dinner once; but that was another lifetime ago.

We place the Tiger's eye beside the wine bottle and prop it near the window. Then I sit on the floor again, cross legged and tell Consuela to go away. As I reach for the lighter, I think of all the possibilities that I can accomplish. I focus on what I'm capable of; not what the world is currently telling me I'm worth.

Screw the world. It's fear based and pessimistic. I'm digging into the deepest part inside of me and hoping that it will ring a little butler bell that the Universe has left for me; one that says, "Hey! She's ready! Throw her a bone!"

I've started sending some of my scripts out. For now, it's a waiting game. But, in the meantime I need money fast -- and so, I'm hoping this little bit of Wicca will help.

I start to chant, and in doing so, I wonder how many single women in the 1600s did the same thing when they contemplated the fate of their life? Did they trek out to the backwoods to be alone with their thoughts? Or did they simply need to commune with nature? Or maybe, being a social outcast and stuck alone in their homes drove them a little bit mad. Poor things. Ostracizing, on any level, isn't fun.

I start to think of being burned at the stake metaphorically. Sure, they physically had to endure it...but on some level, I'm that crazy witch -- breaking from societal norms because of a series of unforeseen circumstances. It's 2009, and my burning has begun.

All the luxuries of a two person union; emotional security, financial support, encouragement -- they are absent in my life. I'm that crazy woman dancing around a fire in the back woods; and it sucks.

But I can't think of that right now. I have to concentrate on my little spell -- and hope to God that it works.

And so I chant,

"I'm successful. People yearn to work with me. Money comes easily to me. I have financial freedom to do what I want. I am successful. People love working with me. I make more money than I ever could have possibly imagined. I love my life. I am a greater success than I ever thought possible."

And with that, I light my candle.