I am knackered, so as promised yesterday, today’s post is going to be A LOT shorter. So as far as I can tell, 8 January is not known as anything other than being 8 January. That’s not to say things don’t go on today, they do, but today I chose a different path. As it’s the anniversary of the death of Dion Fortune, the British occultist, ceremonial magician and author who was died today in 1946, I thought I’d give her a nod instead.
In 1930, Dion wrote a book called Psychic Self-Defence. Psychic self-defence is the art of protecting oneself from negative forces. Now, I know a little bit about this having been a reiki healing masseuse in a past life (not literally a past life, as in another job), plus having learnt how to channel my guardian angel from a son of a preacher man. Not having the time to read her book, I Googled ‘psychic self-defence’ to see what else I could do besides bathing myself in white light or sitting in a bubble of gold all day, and came up with putting a glass of salt on my desk to absorb negative vibes, which sounded very low maintenance and therefore perfect.
You see, for the last couple of weeks I’ve been writing an essay on myths and legends in the landscape using The Leaping Hare by George Ewart Evans & David Thomson as my inspiration. It’s a cracking read if you like hares and mythology. Which I do. And today I’ve been finishing it (you see, when I planned this year long shenanigan, I hadn’t factored in going back to university or essay deadlines or getting drunk before essay deadlines). And given I am a vast ball of negative energy when I approach deadlines, I thought I might be able to save me from myself with a bit of psychic self-defence, and make tomorrow’s deadline without too many calories being consumed.
So I raided the kitchen, chose a pretty glass, decanted in some sea salt and plonked it on my desk. Where it’s sat quite forgotten until I came to write this. Now, I have finished the essay, and by finished I mean I still need to do a final edit, proof, and sort out my references and bibliography, but touch wood (see what I did there), I should be able to submit on time, plus haven’t eaten my own bodyweight in hummus. So who knows. Maybe glasses full of salt are the answer. Given that it just sat there quietly, I shall continue to keep it there until I accidentally knock it off with an academic paper on Stonehenge. Which, let’s face it, is bound to happen. See you tomorrow.
By the way, I made soup out of the leftover pasty stuffing. Yum.
Evans, G.E. & Thomson, D. (1972) The Leaping Hare, London, Faber and Faber
Fortune, D. (2001, new edition) Psychic Self-Defence, Newburyport, MA, Weiser Books