My Pentacle Prayer of the Moment

I feel in need of strong magick right now, so I'm casting some.  I know the need is great because I am right now trying to convince myself that I am making a mountain out of a molehill.  Minimizing my emotions and scenarios is a common sign that I am in a serious situation.  Or, you know, not.  Fucked if I know.

This prayer utilizes the Iron and Pearl Pentacles of the F(a)eri(e) and Reclaiming (and other) traditions of witchcraft for its structure.  Also included is the Plastic Pentacle of mup, as well as the mup pantheon and some nonhuman spirit magicks that I am thinking I might carry.

Standing in my Great Horned Owl magick, standing with Azathoth, Inanna, and Lacuna, I throw open the gate at my right hand to the awkward force of Power/Liberty/Uncertainty/Power, which is already blowing the door from its hinges:

I am filled with gratitude for not knowing how to proceed.  Unbound by the chains of the past, untied from the ropes of the illusion that is prior knowledge and the knots of habitual action, I remind myself that I am free to do as I wish and to grow in what direction I will.  Wondrous, oh!  Wondrous it is that can act from will, unfettered by what has come before.

Standing in my Garlic magick, standing with Pombagira, Hoor-paar-kraat, and Melek Taus, I throw open the gate at my right foot to the roiling force of Pride/Law/Vulnerability/Pride, which is already blowing the door from its hinges:

I ask myself and all who will listen how I can depen my vulnerability in this moment and all moments.  How do I open my crab shell to reveal the tenderest parts of me?  What must I do to offer them, quivering, to those people who matter to me, saying, "Here, it is a gift, for you.  Do with it as you will"?  In what way do I welcome, even invite, the pain?  With what words and colors, in what font and on what paper?  How do I dance with my pain and my fear and my shame, that they might remain ever fluid, gracefull, motionfull instead of solid, unmoving, safe?

Standing in my Tomato magick, standing with Ardhanarishvara, Hermaphroditos, and Deep Reality, I throw open the gate at my left foot to the frightening force of Passion/Wisdom/Wonder/Passion, which is already blowing the door from its hinges:

I summon my heart, that part of me that moves and wants.  I call it to the surface, call it to be seen and here, call it to lead me and to drive my actions with the blazing warmth of its fuel.  May it stir me up, that I may never stop struggling for my own ecstatic joy.  I dance in right relationship with desire in every moment.

Standing in my Skunk magick, standing with Eris, Tlazolteotl, and all the saints of my name, I throw open the gate at my left foot to the buffeting force of Self/Knowledge/Doubt/Self, which is already blowing the door from its hinges:

I trust myself.  I don't trust myself.  Queerly resolving this duality -- gate gate para gate parasam gate bodhi svaha -- I see their fractious union.  I am learning how to grow in what direction I will and I am staying present in that journey, undistracted by goal, unassuaged of purpose.  I deliver myself from the lust of result.

Standing in my Honeybee magick, standing with Antinous and the Beast with Flowered Horns, I throw open the gate at my head to the silly force of Sex/Love/Play/Sex, which is already blowing the door from its hinges:

Keeping a temple flows from keeping the temple keeper and only dust grows in a walled away garden.  Sex is not sex when it is easy.  Love is not love when it is easy.  Play is not play when it is easy.  I let this difficulty spark my eyes and wet my pants and lift my trinkets.  I give myself to its tides and meet it with my own enthusiastic and reciprocal actions.

Haec est unde, haec est unde, haec est unde uita uenit.  Haec est unde, haec est unde, haec est unde uita uenit.  Haec est, haec est, haec est uita uenit!