WHEN MAGIC KNOCKS ON MY DOOR AGAIN

North Of Italy, 11:15 PM

What a strange day today has been… it was intense in a different, ancient way.

The pain has improved, the day at work was lighter than usual, and yet I started feeling terror and tachycardia again in the morning, because I have enough experience to know that pains this intense and visceral do not disappear quickly.

And honestly, I am very, very tired.

I must gather my courage and fight once again, when all I really want is to rest and enjoy life.

And God does nothing, absolutely nothing.

He leaves me in pain… or maybe He is giving me the tools to face this situation through the people who love me and through professionals.

But it’s not enough.

It’s not enough at all.

I know very well that true faith should not work like this, and yet I find myself angry with Him once again more than ever.

Suddenly I clearly remember the reason why I left Him the first time, and I realize it was for a very specific reason — one that is appearing again now.

I’m no longer sure that He really loves me.

In fact, I’m no longer sure of anything.

When I feel this bad, my mind inevitably returns to my long neopagan past, and it fills with a sweet nostalgia.

Almost as if it were a sign, I come across the Academy of Witches, founded by Giorgia, one of the Italian witches and Priestesses of Avalon whom I have followed the longest and to whom I feel very attached.

Tomorrow I will study the website carefully, but I have already understood that I can join her virtual Coven even without enrolling in any of the courses she offers.

More than transcendence, I need to root myself in the Earth, to treat my body as Sacred, to eliminate the concepts of sins, penances, and renunciations, and to return to observing the world around me with wonder.

Only the neopagan and magical path can do this.

And you know what?

I return to it barefoot, and with the eyes of my mind I immerse myself in a lake under the moonlight, feeling free and without remorse.

And while I sink into the depths of the lake, I hope that Jesus can forgive me once again and will not stop loving me because I am angry and searching for breath in my own way — but I have not forgotten Him.