Enter: Mandragora

I will begin our conversation with a word of gratitude and thanksgiving. Let us begin this endeavor as auspiciously as possible.

I am so dearly thankful for the available media with which our voices can be voiced, as well as the “enlightened” times that we live in that make these outlets possible. I call our modern age enlightened purely by contrast to those darker eras gone before us, though when considering
the tidal nature of our chronology thus far, perhaps we will all come full circle once again. Perhaps I say that the times are enlightened as a sort of satire. Regardless, I’m thankful for them.

I am grateful for the opportunities my many privileges have shown me, though I am not proud to have them at the expense of others. I am thankful for all of the magnificent people in my life who have helped and encouraged me along my path. Without them, I would be nowhere. 

It has been said many times before, and it will be said many times again, that witchcraft is the refuge of the oppressed, the downtrodden, and the destitute. At a time of environmental instability, social restlessness and political upheaval, I feel that the practice is still very much relevant.

What you can expect from me, should you choose to continue reading my words, is the perspective of a magical practitioner. I wear many different masks, as we all do: that of an artist, an herbalist, a socialist sympathizer, a loving partner, a friend, and several others, all of them accurate descriptions. In this space, however, due to the nature of my writing, I will assume the audacious self-proclamation of a witch.

In this guise, I am a mythical creature, and less constrained by the agreed upon establishment that dictates how we should be. My journey down this path began for me on my fourteenth birthday, perhaps unconsciously in protest to the dogmatic rigidity of the Christianity that tried raising me.

It’s what felt right to me, and I haven’t really given it up yet.

Here and there I will be exploring the ethnobotanical and folksy medicinal uses of various plants in the spheres of both Western Herbalism and different Western Occult Traditions. From time to time I will offer the overflow of my productions for sale, but these will mostly be sold as Plant Talismans to be used at one’s own risk.

I learn the more I practice, so I invite you to learn with me. 

My craft shows itself through my artwork, and it is here where I begin my branding. This is where I attempt to write with integrity
and consideration that the general populace may be watching.

I’m a shy creature, you see, and prone to be clandestine in order to avoid the evil eye. That being said, I’m also a public figure, having a loyal clientele of exceptional individuals who decide time after time to return to me, of all people, to have their hair done.

Let’s see where this goes.

I operate with my anchor in an amalgamated tradition of Western European and North American Witchcraft, yet sometimes digress off subject. I need you, however, to know that this is where my religio-magical loyalties reside.

I came from the year 1990. I grew up reading Harry Potter, watching Xena, the Warrior Princess, and studying both witchcraft and gay porn on the internet. I assume that some of today’s young witches come from similar backgrounds.

Millennials.

An alien and pretentious sounding word when I hear it used in conversation. As if I’m part of some separate race of humanoids born gullible enough to be legitimately scared that the turning of the year 2000 would literally result in planes falling from the heavens.

I have come a long way from being ten years old, and as a young adult now, in my mid-twenties, I must constantly remind myself that I’m doing alright.

I’ve been maintaining fairly well for about a year now. I’m learning to manage my finances, I have a wonderful job at a beautiful salon, and I’m learning how to love and be loved by a wonderful man who never ceases to amaze me with his gentleness, his understanding, his humor or his virility.

I’m doing alright.

Despite my Depression, I try to stay in the light as much as I can. I believe that we make the world around us by our thoughts. I believe that we have the power to shape reality to our liking. This is coming from someone who calls themselves a witch, so of course you’re going to get some airy faerie bullshit from time to time.

A dear friend once told me that, “people like us, we need the magic in our lives.” This is one of the teachings that helped ground my spirit, no longer being ashamed of seeking the magic out.

I try to stay pretty grounded wherever I can find footing.

I try not to compare myself to others, attempting to deal with what I’m dealt. This dealing with takes on two forms: attempting to understand the nature of reality without denial, as well as improving upon what’s already there. I try to be kind to others, treat people how I want to be treated; But some days, I’m awkward and introverted. This is me.  

I wanted to make sure that I thoroughly introduce myself to you before you hear anything else from me. I need you to know from what center I grow, my background, my perspective.

As a magical practitioner, I feel obliged to elucidate how that shows itself in practical reality. On one side of my nature, I have an artistic compulsion interacting with my mental illness. On the other side, I have my upkeep. The upkeep is what’s essential.

In my opinion, our demons must always be kept in check.

So, as we arrive on the subject of demons, I shall formally begin the Study.

Enter: Mandragora.  

I realize that this classic totem of the magical cabinet may seem overrated and an exhausted point of conversation, yet it’s always held fascination for me. When I began studying in my adolescence, the information available online seemed hit or miss.

As the years marched onward, however, more and more practitioners began coming forward with little snippets of how they utilized the infamous familiar, the Devil’s Root, in their own craft. This inspired me.

 With a penchant for the weird, I tried growing White Mandrakes by seed. The repeated failure to seduce the herb was taken as a sign to leave it be. I was not ready for the medicine that it offered. I saw the successful growing of the fabled mandragora as the pinnacle of my identity as a witch. Without success, I was forced to find other pinnacles, other ways to impress myself. An Ego trip at best and a dance with delusion at worst.

If the grounding point of a magical practitioner is “mine will be done”, at least in Thelemic philosophy, then I count myself accomplished. Struggling with Depression, one is always second guessing oneself, and it’s easy to overlook the fact that, “haven’t all of my spells worked?”

Am I not continuously raised out of the mire by the ambition to find a way out? I resort to a powerful magic within me when the expedited urgency to overcome obstacles becomes imminent. A thaumaturgical endeavor that rushes forth, shrouded in night. Quite the motivator.

Yet, for the first time in my life, I can say that I have pride in myself; and that self I share with you here.  

My name is Michael, and these are my Mandrakes.