What to do when your magical mojo dries out?

I just came out of a year that heralded a great deal of upheaval. In the thick of it, I was being pulled this way and that by magical forces which insisted that I change. Right now, I feel rather like a long noodle that has been extruded, ready to coil into a new being.

Saturn Return is a bitch.

So, here I am. About to turn 30 and on leave from my career, ready to begin studies for a potential new one, surrounded by art materials that reminded me what I thought I was gonna do with myself in my late teens. I feel like I have ripped all the pages out of my journal, ready to start again. And I am so ready to feel the buzz again.

Being exhausted wrings a lot of magical energy out of your soul. Over time I have slowly lost the sense of enchantment I used to find with the world, to the point that at the last public pagan event I attended, I left feeling empty.

Where was the joy and excitement that I felt at my first gathering? I no longer felt energised by the dynamic of people, but instead I felt disillusioned, beleaguered, and admittedly a little hollowed-out. Was it because everyone knew me now, having run workshops and helped to facilitate ritual in previous years? Was it just that it truly was a ‘phase’, and I’d finally gotten over it?

Ups and downs in one’s spiritual life is not unusual. Everything has its ebb and flow, and I had probably encountered en ebb, exacerbated by the fatigue that had smashed me down over the year where I paddled madly underwater trying to keep all of my commitments afloat whilst I constantly summed each of them up, wondering which one to give the flick next.

You see a lot of upheaval in the pagan community, with members stepping into and out of the umbrella at will. But is some of it due to this loss of mojo when it comes to interacting with those who you once identified with? It is easy sometimes to place the blame on the community itself for changing, when it is actually you have changed. I would balk at the idea of outgrowing a community, an umbrella term, or a particular flavour of practice. Instead I am choosing to sit in the space, to breathe deep, and pay a bit more attention.

Those whose ideas I held onto then dropped as I became more self-reliant in my spiritual path, I am slowly paying more attention to. The fluffy bunnies and the new agers, the leaders and the craftspeople – why are they here? What can I learn from them?

And what can I learn from the Gods? Can they teach me, too?

I have morphed from a humanistic pagan, a pantheist or a panentheist, to someone who is flirting with the tenets of the so-called piety-posse, looking for a deeper truth, searching for answers where others have found them. If a deity slaps you on the face and the humanistic pagan face goes red, is it all still inside their head?

I wish to open my arms again, and be a seeker once more. Instead of wrestling with labels and schools of thought, I have asked to be guided by forces and forms that are well beyond my reasoning and rational comprehension. That is why I loosened the shackles of atheist cynicism and decided to play on the side of the neo-pagans in the first place, after all. Misinformation be damned – when you’re a chaos witch, every myth is valid.