I feel like on general we're becoming increasingly (and hazardously) apprehensive towards any sort of commitment.

When it comes to signing up for a 24th month contract with EE in exchange of the new (admittedly quite amazing) Samsung phone, then wariness is in order (I know I'll smash mine way before I finish paying it off). But when talking about committing to one another, even if it's just a regular phone call with a friend, it seems to me people do more and more keep vows at a safe distance, so they're always easy to walk away from.

(e.g. more and more relationships occupying and rarely leaving WhatsApp messenger, and when convenient you just stop replying? What the fudge is this whole 'ghosting' business about? Human beings are not avatars that you tap on when you're bored sitting at the office loo or drag to the trash bin when 'inactive' for too long.)

I've met Gillian Fisher sometimes in September 2010 and we instantly bonded through being naturally gifted in all things filthy and/or paranormal, and generally highly unequipped for life. Or at least your average life. You know, the life mastered by a person with at least some basic life skills and emotional intelligence reaching beyond the pre-teen age.

As we sat in a circle of salt in our infamous Highgate Wood on the Midsummer Eve of 2017, ready to perform some serious Magick (the 'K' is being used apparently to differentiate the real deal from card tricks and stage illusions), we were still the two bimbos not much wiser but bloated (in Gill's case quite literally) with seven more years of wondrous and horrific, little and big life events. And the most magical fact that we've been here side by side to tackle them-if not together, than at least cheering each other on from the sidelines.

There's something truly transcendental about having people in your life, who know you in the context of your past, of your previous faces and shapes, both physical and emotional. It's equally wonderful and scary.
Like the fear of commitment, it boils down to being vulnerable, exposed. Of course you won't get hurt if you shield yourself from deep connections, but in exchange of braving it, you get something that not even trillion of superficial "friendships" can replicate.

By the end of tonight, we've made an unshakable bond (confirmed by a handshake..so does it make it shakableUNshakable?), and just to be sure reinforced it by a pinky promise, that no matter where life takes us geographically, regardless the life's circumstances, ignoring the money situation and against all obstacles and hurdles, this one night, every year on 21st June, we will come together to craft some spells and drink some ceremonial cocktails.
Only the 'dancing naked by the moonlight' is optional.

We've set up a little altar to God and Goddess, lit a green and a red candle and in not so long got quite pissed on ceremonial vodka mixed with ceremonial wine. It was ceremonial, okay?! OKAY?!
The idea was to mark this special day in a pagan tradition - summer solstice ritual used to be called LITHA and it honoured the power of Sun - life giving force of renewal and abundance.
(And trust me, we both could use some abundance especially in the wallet department right now.)

On the 21st June, Sun is reaching its peak power: it's the longest day and shortest night of the year. But there's also a promise of darkness in it, because the balance starts inevitably shifting at the same time towards longer nights and shorter days, so that the Wheel of the Year can be completed.

I've charged my crystals on the midday sun (had to place them on the window ledge outside our server room at work to avoid a ridicule side my colleagues - yes I work in media, but runes and crystal would still be seen as too out there by most), surrounded by specific runes to help everything we intended to bring forth tonight. (My favourite is called Wunjo, go and google. I've been strangely drawn to it - only later discovering it's a rune linked to my star sign)

You know that all objects, no matter how sturdy or organic, vibrate, right? Even solid crystals are in constant vibration when you look close enough (with a particle microscope). Charging crystals is all about tuning their vibrational frequency to the frequency emitted by light of the Sun or Moon (or sound of gongs etc - sound is a frequency too). I've charged mine for good few hours before macerating Rose Quartz and Carnelian in vodka to change the vibration of the liquid, and so we could later on mix it with wine and drink in the middle of woods, because we are perfectly insane individuals and we do weird shit, ..and love it.

Given the respective powers of Rose Quartz and Carnelian, our Midsummer Litha Potion should be especially beneficial for balancing libido, supporting physical well-being, breaking bad habits, bringing harmony to relationships, postponing ageing (the ancient Egyptians rubbed Rose Quartz on their faces to keep the wrinkles away) and attracting prosperity, motivation and creativity for new pursuits.
And also a hangover.

I've plucked some of neighbour's lavender and basil from our kitchen counter, which we burned along with a paper bindle with one of our bad habits written down and trapped inside. We recited prayers whilst the fire consumed it, and buried the ashes by the roots of an ancient oak tree, visualising the earth absorbing our bad habit and turning it into something beautiful (make a better use of it than we ever could) and leaving a gift for the earth (and fairies, cause we're suckers for fairies...in case you couldn't tell) for taking it.

If you've read this far, I'd like to offer a little glimpse of hope regarding my sanity. Of course I'm fully aware magic is all about belief. It's all of those things that stressed-out Londoners read collectively about on the tube trains every morning - affirmations, visualising, setting intentions, the whole New Age turn Self-Help machinery business, just smelling of burnt lavender and more itchy because of mosquitos.

The evening whiffed of nostalgia for the times we've run around the woods of Blansko back in Czech when I was 13, spent long summer days building up a 'witches cemetery' and long summer nights invoking spirits in there (always either the 'Czech Jane Austen' called Bozena Nemcova if we felt scared, or straight up Satan if we felt brave). And also the times some seven years ago when we had more time to CREATE memories, as oppose to check on each other on WhatsApp daily.

No matter the result of our spell-casting efforts, I'm already immensely proud of us for making this occult evening, and a special promise for the years to come, happen. Together.

And also that exactly in the tradition of Kuba+Gill, we stayed too long, the woodland park locked-up and when we tried to climb over the gate, Gill has impaled her vagina and whilst literally screaming

'My vagina is impaled!'

all of a sudden there's been about thirty people standing underneath regarding her bottom twitching in the air.
Yes, we've been rescued by a bloody BAT WATCH, let out by the caretaker, and ticked yet another severely embarrassing stunt off our never-ending checklist.

As a beautiful synchronicity aftermath, I've debriefed at the flat with Carol and David, who just came back from the Sacred Cacao Healing Ceremony in Pandora Spa (just about the only thing related to David's birthday that actually worked out this year - after this Saturday's Jamiroquai concert had been postponed TO THE SIXTH BLOODY DECEMBER) with a peculiar herb (I'm pretty sure it was Mugwort) they got from one of the guys in there. Apparently he plucked it earlier that day at Stonehenge (Ancient Aliens, people! We've been visited in the past, in case you didn't know. Ref. Giorgio A. Tsoukalos), which enhances lucid dreaming and gives divine visions*

So we smoked (you can make a tea with Mugwort, but we're not English..and sixty, okay?), we floated away listening to David August and Berlin Symphonic Orchestra, an electric current sensation surging from heads to toes, and we came back to Earth in the morning to go to work - after yet-again-not-enough-sleep, but (at least in my case) with a little cheeky smile under the eye bags, because life got a bit more magical.

*I'd like to note here that David's divine vision was dreaming of me as a Pterodactyl. It better not be some subconscious comment on my age.