Crossroads

This is a point of contact: me writing, you reading.

Life is a series of points like this, and I've been thinking a lot about them. One thing I've been noticing is the way that contact functions more authentically, magically even, when it's allowed to unfurl organically.

I think about conversations. This doesn't come to me naturally; I tend to be rather self-contained. I get nervous, as I said, about the telephone, and plan whole conversations in advance when I have to have them. For example.

But I've been thinking about spontaneity, and also vulnerability, and how it's ok to have a pause that's too long or ask you to repeat yourself three times or even say I forgot what I was calling about and hang up. I mean, it's not great, but it's... ok.

I've been reading a lot of Brene Brown, who practically invented vulnerability with her TED talk. I think she has some good points, but we could really take it further, magically. She says vulnerability is for people who have earned your trust. I think...

What if you showed up for a lecture you were going to give prepared by your experience but without a premeditated plan for what you were going to say? You could get a feel for who was there, the setting and the energy, and maybe fuck up enormously. Would that be so wrong? I bet it would be interesting.

Among other things, Keys to the Garden has been an experiment in online vulnerability. I'd written blogs before, but this time I tried harder than ever before to really be me. I was very upfront about my doubt and my – well, my doubts, mostly. About myself, my spiritual path, and a bunch of other stuff I bumped into – for a year, and 43 posts. That's kind of a lot of vulnerability.

It turns out real is relative, though. Self-deprecation is half of it at most, and sometimes its own kind of wall of invulnerability. As the year has gone on, I've gotten more comfortable with the undefined realness I've been practicing here, and the more comfortable I get, the more I feel like I haven't been showing up to blog in the way I thought I was.

I've been thinking, what if I stopped blogging about magic, and started blogging magically?

So, this is a point of contact. In a couple of days, the domain registration for Keys to the Garden runs out and the blog will probably disappear. Meanwhile, Bloodroots: a Living Witchcraft Journal starts with an invocation. It's possible that some of my favorite content will eventually make the transition with me.

And you? Like everything you encounter, in some way you've been changed by reading.

Wild Violet Syrup

Violets are going crazy right now, so I figured it was a good time to dig this post up again. If you have violets, too, you can make wild violet syrup. You can store it all year and use it as a mild cough remedy or just to add a little local flavor to anything sweet.

The hardest part is picking enough flowers. Recipes vary a bit, but seem to suggest that you need between one and four parts violets for every part water.

I got a bit less than a cup and a half of petals (partly because I didn't want to pick them all), so I decided to use 3/4 cup of water.

I boiled the water, poured it over the flowers and let it sit overnight. This morning I strained out the petals and added 3/4 cup of sugar (it's also possible to use honey, but the flavor of violet is so delicate that I thought it might be better to keep it simple).

Then I brought the syrup to a boil and simmered for half an hour. Since I had so little liquid, I kept a close eye on it to make sure it was a really low simmer.

That's it! My syrup came out a bit muddy looking, but the flavor is pretty strong, polleny and complex, a little like a mild and earthy vanilla.