“It’s a way to dive into your unconscious mind and uncover tendencies and fixations. We all repress our shadow selves in different ways. This is a process to explore those things. The wounds that you’re repressing.”
“I’m repressing wounds?”
“We all are, in some way. Our shadow self is the key to the ideal of being a balanced witch. A witch who acknowledges who he or she is fully and embraces it, accepting the good and bad parts.”
“I have a lot of bad parts,” I mutter.
“No, you don’t, and you need to realize that.”
“I’m so tired of all this studying though.”
“Do this one more thing. For me.” He gives me an intent look. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’m sure you can find more information about shadow work, but to get started, here are a few things to know. You have to have silence. No cell phone, no TV, no internet. Just you and yourself.”
I nod.
“Once you sit in silence, things will start to rise to the surface—hopes and dreams, fears and doubts. Repressed memories. It can feel messy. Even scary. You might want to stop. But don’t. Keep going. And this is important—let yourself feel the emotions.”
“This sounds like therapy,” I mutter.
“It kind of is. Your emotions will tell you things about yourself. It’s a good idea to write them down.”
I make a face. “Can I use my iPad?”
He smiles and shakes his head. “Use whatever you want.”
“Great.” I yawn. “Thanks, Joe. I’ll try it.”
“Remember… it’s not the powers you have that make you magical. It’s what you do with them that defines you.”
I nod.
“And… you don’t have to fit in with your family. You’re part of the family no matter what.”
“Oh.” My throat clogs. “Thank you.”
“I need to ask you something. About Trace.”
My entire body seizes. My eyes dart around. “What about him?”
Sounding like he’s choosing his words carefully, he says, “Cassie has the idea that he might have feelings for you.”
“Feelings?” I stall.
“Yes. She thinks maybe he’s in love with you.” Joe clears his throat.
“Oh my god!” I laugh, hoping I don’t sound hysterical. “Why would she think such a thing?”
“Well, she’s pretty observant. She says he looks at you… and is protective of you.” He clears his throat.
Looks at me? How? I swallow. “Trace doesn’t do relationships,” I say brightly. “He told me that. So no worries about that!”
“Right,” Joe says, grimacing. “Okay.”
Whew.
“And one more thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Would you… call me Dad?”
A lump of emotion forms in my chest and rises into my throat. I study his face, which I’ve come to know so well. I love him. “Yes,” I whisper. “I would love to.”
We lean toward each other to hug.
He pulls back. “Take the day off tomorrow. You can do your shadow work.”
“Oh… that would be great.” I pause. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Anything.”
I fiddle with the ties of my pajama pants. “I still don’t understand… what is our purpose as witches?”
His forehead creases.
“Like, why do we have witch powers?” I try to clarify. “Why are we here?”
“Those are big questions.”
“I know.” I sigh. “I keep thinking I’ll figure it out, but I haven’t yet.”
“Well.” He falls silent for a moment, thinking. “I don’t think there are answers for those.”
I gaze at him in dismay.
His smile is gentle. “What is your purpose as a Rucker? As a woman?”
I blink and purse my lips. “I don’t know.”
“And that’s totally normal. We don’t all know our purpose in life. Especially when we’re young. All we can do is ask ourselves, what kind of person do I want to become? What kind of witch do I want to become?” One corner of his mouth lifts higher. “What problems do you see in the world? What’s causing them? Who are the most important people in your life? What are your values?”
I sigh, a smile tugging my lips. “Okay, I get it.”
“You can’t answer all those questions right now. Or in a day. Maybe even in a lifetime. But keep asking them. That’s where you’ll find the purpose of your life. Whether you’re a witch… or not. And if you choose not to be a witch, you still have unique talents. You still have magic in you with your ability to treat people with empathy, care, and humor. To make them feel happy, connected, valued. To strive for justice and fairness. You don’t have to be a witch to do that.”
More emotion swells in my chest, nearly choking me. I pull in a shaky breath. “Thank you. Dad.”
I love his smile.
When I’m alone, I lay down, hugging my furry pillow.
Last night, after Trace left, I felt so lost. So alone. I knew it was going to end like that, but I hate that he was angry. Except I don’t get why he’s so angry.
I wished things could be different. That Trace had fallen in love with me too. That instead of arguing, he’d told me that, and… well. Wishes don’t matter.
Feeling helpless and a little hopeless, I’d stepped out onto my balcony to gaze up into the sky, as I have so many times when I need to feel grounded. The moon was there. It’s always there even though sometimes we can’t see it. Last night it was a tiny, shining sliver in the sky. Today is the new moon. A time for new beginnings. It seems to me that with the moon out of sight it could be a perfect time to do shadow work. To examine my darker selves. The selves I keep hidden.
I hope I’m ready for this.
24
Romy
Much as I want to give up on witchcraft, I owe it to Joe—Dad—and the family to at least do this. I know it’s a serious decision—there’s no going back. If I don’t take the exam within a year of learning about my powers, I can never do it. So.
I gather what I need. I have a candle from the Charming Chalice, scented with amber and oud. It flickers on my coffee table, spreading its warm, sweet scent. I have a crystal—satin spar—that helps with mental clarity and strengthens the connection to intuition. I’ve gathered some materials to help me through this.
My condo is completely silent. Morning sun streams through the window, illuminating all the pretty colors I’ve added to my space. My home. My sanctuary.
The first thing I learn is how we suppress parts of ourselves to please people, to fit in. Like my mom. I learned to repress parts of myself to please her and do well in school. I had no idea at the time of course; I just wanted her approval and love.
I relive memories from my childhood, and yes, in hindsight, they’re painful. And sad. I even feel anger and resentment toward my mom, although I love her too. I’m supposed to honor these feelings, because they are what lead me to knowing the emotional wounds hidden in my subconscious.