Magick in the air, snow falls, pink petals, slumbering seeds wake.

Dear Friends,

My thoughts this morning go to my sister here at the Cult. Kat and I have been in this thing together from the beginning. We've created a theme in the shop seventeen times. SEVENTEEN TIMES. Without her, this process seems as if it would be impossible. No matter who has the original idea, it is never executed from start to finish without a badminton match of concepts, colors, textures, and of course the intention of feeling for the theme. We toss ideas back and forth like Vulcans, our mind meld and conversations coalesce into something neither of us envisioned from the beginning. This often happens in little moments for months as we prepare not only the decorative part of our endeavor--the props for the actual windows--but also as we work on the intention of the window. I think of this now as the SEEN aspects of the theme. This informs the tea blend, the magick pouch, and the types of products we want to bring in. The UNSEEN always shows up, and in ways we never thought. The shadows of the thing that we benevolently begin.

This theme change was the most dramatic experience of this mind meld, passing off to the other at different stages, working back and forth in the shop and in the windows. It was also the smoothest ever. My ego didn't pop up once, wanting more, asking more, My old desire to be right or better or whatever was blessedly absent. I didn't miss it. There was an ease and effortless that I had not experienced in the past with Kat, or with anyone really. No unmet wants or wishes, but rather a curiosity of how it would all unfold. This morning there was a great sigh of relief (for the push was over) and a breath of joy for a job well done. As I walked into the shop, I felt the magick that we create more strongly than I can remember ever feeling before. I find myself more grateful than I've ever been for this sister of mine. And coming with it, or maybe on its heels a great, deep sense of sadness.

All of these "changes" have been both literal as well as figurative. We have grown, and grown, and grown. Each theme has lessons to teach us and we have learned. We have been stretched and pulled, our shapes altered and shifted. The seeds of who we have been are cracking. I don't know what we will become. I do know that now, the sacrifice of who we are/have been is eminent. I can smell it in the snow. I can feel it in the growing days. Change is a-coming. Its this thought that brings the sadness. While changes have always taken me to a better place, have always brought me closer to being more of who I really am, I resist. Even though I know it will be ok. Its the unknown that generates my sadness. I don't know how things will grow and evolve and change. I know that this thing we do here, these theme changes. They won't last forever in their current form. What will they become? I don't know.

And being in charge. Being the boss, or the leader, or the alpha witch, or whatever you call it. Its more difficult for me that I don't know. My intention this theme is to shed the fear of not knowing. And also the idea of not knowing at all. I am the architect. I decide the destination of this ship called the Cult of Gemini. If I can firmly grab the wheel in my hands (and my mind, and my soul) and hoist the sails, then the how won't be so worrisome. I'm not in a rush to find this destination. I'll let the petals unfold as they will. And as they do, I will glimpse a hint of the future for each one. I thank you for being on this journey with me. And my deepest, heart-felt gratitude to my sister, without whom this journey is not possible.

With Love,
Ginger (aka Rachel Lazarus)
March 16, 2018, Cult of Gemini Newsletter