Monthly Archives: March 2024

Fashionably Late, Part One: #OcculTea

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I watch an awful lot of YouTube videos these days. That habit began because I absolutely detest commercials, and only got worse when I started researching Etsy. YouTube is a wonderful resource for all sorts of educational information, if you’re careful.

As I’ve been “witchy” for about 35 years or so, I don’t normally watch a lot of pagan/wiccan/witch content. So much of it is just Wicca 101, or other 101 types of videos, and those are simply not relevant to me.

Or so I thought.

I got myself a TikTok account so I could watch my daughters’ videos. I quickly discovered TikTok isn’t really the place for me, or at least I’m not the TikTok video kind of creator. I like words, written words, so I can think carefully before expressing myself.

I also prefer longer content. I just don’t have the patience for tiny little videos and scroll, scroll, scroll…If a video is less than 20 minutes I feel jilted.

I did, however, find a few excellent creators over there who happened to have YouTube channels, and so I recently began following them. So that is how I finally caught wind of #OcculTea. As a woman with a lot of opinions, I couldn’t resist throwing in my two cents and change, so here I am.

This hashtag was started by three content creators from YouTube; Ella Harrison, The Redheaded Witch, and the Polish Folk Witch. Admittedly, I wasn’t following any of them, but I’ve now watched at least a couple of their entries about this topic. I’ll likely be watching more of them later, but I really didn’t want to be any later to this party than I already am. I believe the post was shared first to Instagram, not YouTube, but I’m not over there just yet so I’m not sure.

Introduction: Introduce yourself. How long have you been participating in the witchcraft online space? What practices and topics do you discuss primarily?

I have a whole page here as an introduction, but I’ll try to give a quick re-introduction in case anyone is here straight from the hashtag and hasn’t read it yet.

I go by Camylleon. Its a nickname I started with back when AOL first went to 13 characters from 8, and I was too excited that I was able to get a name that didn’t have to have numbers on it. That’ll give you an idea of how long I’ve been online.

I was immediately at least reading in the witchcraft spaces I could find back then, because it was a lifeline. Up to that point, I had been scrambling to piece together information from library books, what few books I could afford from a local metaphysical store, and what little they carried at Borders.

Yeah, dating myself again. Borders. That goes back, doesn’t it? I wasn’t posting as much back then. I didn’t feel like I had anything to offer. I was learning. I was looking for teachers, information, anything. Times were tough. I even went through a three-level Wicca school. Paid for a lifetime membership and everything.

So to answer the second question, how long have I been participating? Oh, I guess the mid 90s? If my math is right, let’s say about 30 years or so, give-or-take.

What practices and topics do you discuss primarily? I’ve only just gotten started, twice now, maybe three times really, with this generation of this blog so its still sort of hard to tell. I ramble a lot. I like rambling. I haven’t really ruled anything out yet.

My own practice right at this moment is hard to explain. I can’t call it worship exactly. I work with Ancestral Spirits, primarily, but there are a few Deities around as well. I consider myself an Omnist. All Entities exist and are valid; every last one. I might disagree about different qualities or aspects of the Entity, but I’ve no doubt they exist.

All Spirits are, at the end of the day, Spirits. I don’t believe that humans quite understand the differences between disincarnate human spirits, saints, orishas, lwa, demons, angels, demigods, daimons, gods, etc., etc.

Currently, I’m spending most of my writing on sharing my journey and how I got here from there. I think its probably the most relatable part of who I am. Its something we all have in common, we learn as we go. Sometimes its harder and sometimes its easier, but we seldom end where we began.

TOPIC ONE: IMPACT ON COMMUNITY

What is my personal reasoning/inspiration behind sharing my practice online? Do I seek to educate, learn, or connect?

I don’t know that I’ve actually thought much about it. I have a long history of having my privacy invaded, so I suppose in some ways this is the only way I can do it anymore. If its public, it can’t be violated?

Despite having an abominable experience a number of years ago with yet another couple of leeches, I keep thinking that maybe someone out there wants or needs to hear what I have to say. Maybe someone else out there feels the same way I do. Maybe they need the encouragement and information I wanted and needed 30 years ago.

What am I looking to achieve by participating?

Nothing, except perhaps to throw my opinion out into the void, get it off my shoulders, and move on. Its a release.

As far as educate, learn, or connect…

I’m always looking to learn. I’ll happily share any knowledge I have if that counts as educating. I’m leery of “connecting,” though, as the odds seem pretty much against me in that department. Although I will say that when I connect and it sticks, I do pretty damn well. The few friends I’ve kept are some of the best a person could hope for.

I just get hurt more often than not. Still, I’m here so I suppose I’m willing to risk it. Therapy. Therapy helps a lot.

How do I believe social media, as a whole, has impacted the community?

Its all at once wonderful and horrifying.

But then, I keep saying it is what you make of it. So I suppose that explains it. People are all at once wonderful and horrifying.

If you fill your feed with cute puppies and kitties, that’s what you’re going to get. If you fill it with seething hate-filled rants from people who have the complete opposite views from you because you love to argue, that’s what you’re going to get.

Social media is us.

How do I think social platforms such as TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube have each impacted education/sharing information?

To me, two of those three haven’t done anything terribly good for either education or sharing information.

TikTok, in particular, is horrible. Sharing is easy, too easy. Anyone can do it, and it can be difficult for someone who is coming in with a blank slate to tell good information from bad.

There’s an awful lot of bad on TikTok.

There’s some good as well, but if I were going into it with no background information or damn good intuition to guide me, I’d be more confused or more misled, one or the other.

Both Instagram and TikTok are big on looks. The better you look, the better your following. They’re shallow platforms with unrealistic depictions of the “ease” of witchcraft, and if you ask me, the aesthetics of witchcraft.

I get it, its cool. Don’t get me wrong. I love the crystals and the mood lighting and the dried plants hanging all over. I want to live in the Practical Magic house, too. But that’s Hollywood, not reality. TikTok and Instagram are quite good at packaged sound bites of cute, repeated information. Not so good at actual education. At best, if you were looking at the Linktrees or other links in profiles, you might be able to find quality information if you dig. A lot.

Sharing, well, they’re both too good at that. Bad and good information travel like wildfire, and sometimes do as much damage.

I’ve also seen how peer pressure functions in those two platforms. There are fads, fashionable types or genres of witchcraft that I find suddenly everyone is practicing. Sometimes for the wrong reasons.

YouTube is slightly different. Not that there isn’t the same percentage of bad to good there, but to me there’s more variety. Longer video time also means its possible for those who want to provide information can share detailed, quality information. If they want to.

The problem there is that YouTube doesn’t exactly promote quality. It also promotes the pretty, the angering, the strong emotional reactions. So if you rely on the algorithm to suggest videos to you, you’re not going to find much. You have to be actively searching and in control of your feed.

It is also what you make of it. 🙂

Additionally, there’s a lack of good advanced information, and an awful lot of 101. I believe there are a lot of creators in all the different subjects on YouTube who just get burned out with being stuck in entry-level information. Its as tedious for them as it is for viewers.

Is consuming witchcraft content becoming a substitute for practice?

Not for me. Could it, though? Sure. Its not much different than people who read and research and research and read but never practice. That was me for an awful long time; I was simply not secure enough in my knowledge to do it myself, by myself.

That’s what can happen when people don’t have IRL guidance. When you have someone there to hold your hand, to walk you through it, its easier. Much easier, like so many things in life. Especially when people are shouting from the sidelines about whatever “law” you might accidentally break.

I finally got off of my ass and got to work, and once I did, I realized how silly I had been. I would imagine there are a lot of new, “Baby” witches in that same position. No shame.

There could also be people who will never actively practice. I don’t have a problem with that either.

If you know Christianity, or any other mainstream religion really, you quickly figure out that there are priests, lay people, and congregations. Not everyone is made to do the Spiritual Work. That’s one of the many reasons there’s televised services; not everyone can or wants to attend church, but they want it in their lives.

It doesn’t mean they’re any less believers, they’re any less pagan or what-have-you. Its just not their calling. They might attend large gatherings for holidays, post happy solstice messages on their social media, and watch as many witch or pagan videos as they like. It doesn’t mean they’re any less dedicated.

There’s a place for all of us.

Alright, I’m leaving it there because its quite long enough already! Part Two to be written when I’ve recovered!

Side Step

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Decisions, Decisions, Decisions…

I just did the math. I met my BFE (Best Friend EVER) 17 years ago. Its gone too goddamn fast. I can’t believe how long we’ve been together now, and at the same time it seems like we’ve known each other forever. Weird how that works, isn’t it?

I remember when I met her. I had moved the store from one side of the theater to the other which had given me a lot more room. It was still a ridiculously small storefront, but it was what I could afford, and it worked. Jewelry is, after all, pretty small.

I’d already been invaded by the first round of leeches. I’ve had problems with leeches all my life, so this was no different. Its only recently that I’ve been able to figure this problem out, and Bestie has been a major part of understanding why I keep getting into that cycle.

It took finding someone who knows how to be a best friend for me to be able to compare and understand who isn’t a friend, to start on that path.

The leeches in this part of my life we’ve been referring to as the “Evil Three.” Not as much for anonymity as because it seems people we never want to see again have a strange way of showing up after we say their names out loud. Call it superstition, call it evocation magic, but it happens an awful lot. Its been nearly 20 years since they’ve been relevant, let alone evil, but we’ll roll with this for now.

The players here are Evil A, Evil J, and Evil M. M wasn’t as evil as the other two; he was as much a victim as I was, however he had a helluva anger issue, and lost all concepts of rationality when he’d get angry. He was also hopelessly (and stupidly) in love with Evil A, so he had a tendency to take her causes a bit too much to heart. To this day, I feel sorry for him.

I met Bestie when she came with Evil J to the store for the downtown business Halloween trick-or-treating. It was more of a social function than anything else, and Evil J was dressing as a witch. Bestie was ostensibly there to help her with her costume which was a witch complete with prosthetic nose.

A nose that Bestie and I realized she didn’t even need. It wasn’t much bigger than her own, frankly.

Now, when I started this store, and for that matter when I moved into this house some ten years later, I thought of myself as at least nominally Wiccan. I’d started drifting into polytheism by virtue of having run into a couple of Deities already, but I still thought in a Wiccan framework. When I set up my “Spooky Room” at the house here, I had four small altars for each of the Quarters, and the main altar in the middle so I could face whatever way I’d needed. Verrrrrrrrrrrrrry Wiccan-ish.

Bestie came in with this energy I was immediately drawn to. She has this bright red hair, a little girl voice that doesn’t match her physique but really matches her child like nature and joy, and she was wearing layers of beaded necklaces. I was so curious, intrigued, and drawn in. I always am curious about people who are different, so I suppose that isn’t all that odd for me. I didn’t want her to think she was some sort of freak show, so I was trying to let her release whatever information about herself she wanted to in a pace she was comfortable with.

That wasn’t easy!

As I remember it though, we took to each other immediately. Talking at a hundred words a minute or more. She was the first Voodoo practitioner I’d ever met, at least to my own knowledge. Curious doesn’t really even begin to explain it. Given I’ve had a hyper-fixation on religious beliefs and magickal practices as long as I can remember, to say I was obsessed is a polite term.

Thankfully, she seems to have felt the same way, and she came back. A lot.

But things happened, as they always do for me. The Evil Three became more and more controlling, more and more manipulative. They also showed up at the store more and more. It became harder and harder for me to get business in as they were generally always there, and it started to look like a hangout.

They weren’t the only ones, either. There was a handful of teenagers, or I should say successions of teenagers who did the same thing. I didn’t mind as much Friday nights as the town had a car show every Friday night so having people in and around the store wasn’t so very odd. But Evil A, in particular, began acting like she owned the place.

Now, I made several of my own mistakes in all of this, and I’m sure to get into those sooner or later. Some of that was that I was too sympathetic to Evil M. As I said, we’ll get there.

Evil J was the particular problem at this juncture though.

First off, I realized how little she actually knew. She’d been in a coven, I hadn’t. I wanted to have Wicca 101 classes at night once a week when we were closed. As I hadn’t been in an actual coven, I was a little insecure teaching that part of the religion. I could teach from a sole practitioner perspective, but the coven she’d attended had been Gardnerian. I wanted that input for the class. So I asked her if she’d like to teach the class with me.

The suggestion I made is that I would handle the spell work portion, if she’d handle the ritual portion. We could alternate weeks, and I’d jump in for the solitary work if she wasn’t comfortable with it.

We started off the first lesson with her presentation. I really ought to have discussed more with her before hand, I really ought to have…

Because immediately she got into spell work. She didn’t know the difference between spells and rituals. I don’t even think, in retrospect, that she understood the Wiccan holidays enough to describe them, let alone teach about them.

It was disappointing, to say the least.

Evil J almost immediately, as she saw Bestie and I bonding, started bitching. There was always something wrong about Bestie. It got old, fast. And as much as they were supposed to be best friends at the time, she was constantly putting her down. That is, unless she was bragging about her. If anyone at all said something about Bestie being smart, or cool, or impressed with her in anyway, suddenly Bestie was J’s friend. It was odd.

It didn’t take long for her to start shoving Bestie off, either. She didn’t drive, so she was dependent on the train. Her (at the time) boyfriend would pick her up from the train station. If she wanted to stay later or she missed her train, she would ask for J to take her home. Now J lived to the east of the store, Bestie lived one town farther to the east, about 10 minutes or so.

But it was too far for her. Every single time Bestie wanted to stay and asked if J would take her home, J would say yes, and then J would, without Bestie hearing, ask me to either persuade her to take the train or ask for someone else to take her home. After telling Bestie she would drive her home.

Sometimes I would just wait with Bestie at the train station, making jokes about it being such a “horrible neighborhood” that I didn’t want her to risk being there by herself. Eventually though, I started just driving her home. It was faster than the train, and we didn’t have to stand around at the station waiting, which made it even faster for her. It didn’t seem to take more than a few minutes for me to drive her either, so even though I was a good 45 minutes to the west of there, it wasn’t problematic for me at all.

And it gave us a chance to talk. Alone.

That explains how we got closer and closer. Considering the kind of people we both are, it also explains how we started exchanging information about religion and spellwork. Because of course we did. This also explains how I started to understand Voodoo.

It wasn’t long before we parted ways with the Evil Three. Maybe I’ll get into that some day, maybe not. There’s not a lot there I care about anymore, except for the lessons I learned.

Bestie quit her job and became my “work wife” not long after we saw the Evil Three depart. We spent more than eight hours a day together, six days a week, and never once tired of each other. In all our years, we’ve had one break down (I’ll get into that, for sure…) and I got mad at her exactly once, but it wasn’t even her fault then. I think she got mad at me once, too, so we’re even. In seventeen years. That’s not a bad run.

At some point between her being there sometimes and being there all the time, Bestie met a Babalawo at a local flea market where he had a booth. For those unaware, this is a type of priest through Ifa or Santeria. That’s how the Side Step happened.

Throughout this all, I’m wresting with what I’ve learned. Because someone so burnt by Christianity, who threw it out whole cloth, is going to have issues with Voodoo. Especially someone with one foot already in polytheism who hasn’t completely deconstructed Christianity yet.

Voodoo has a veneer of Christianity over it to this day. Some people have started trying to “restore” it to its original pre-slavery context, making it into some sort of African Polytheism, but that’s not the tradition practiced by most. For the rest of the world, they’re Catholics who happen to venerate the Lwa.

Then, Bestie ends up taking me in to see her Babalawo, who found my ruling Orisha. I had to start smashing square pegs into octagon shaped holes. It wasn’t easy. An awful lot didn’t get straightened out until I began to understand both the history of Christianity better, and the concept of Omnism.

Funny how our paths will seem so straight and predictable for years and years until we just get curious and find that weird path off to the side of the main path and we end up on a completely different, and even less trodden path.

Fresh Eyes

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Fuch’s Dystrophy is a condition where your cornea doesn’t release the liquid in your eye like it ought to. It makes for some gorgeous affects, and horrible driving. Especially at night. Everything has such beautiful auras. I’ve said it rather consistently now, its like living in Van Gogh’s Starry Starry Night.

Fuch’s Dystrophy. I know, it’s a weird name, isn’t it? Everyone pronounces it FOOCHES, likely to avoid the obvious. My Dad has it, so I knew it was distinctly possible I’d end up with it as well. Knowing what the symptoms are, it didn’t surprise me at all when I realized I was experiencing them.

It seemed just a matter of time.

I didn’t expect to be sent for surgery immediately. I figured there would be some sort of “conservative treatment” as it seems that’s what every doctor does first. Likely, that’s because that’s the demand of the insurance companies, but don’t get me started on that.

Van Gogh’s Starry Starry Night. See that aura on every star? Those swirls in the night? I did!

If you’re curious about it, Fuch’s Dystrophy at American Academy of Ophthalmology

When the yellow rotating light on top of a tow truck on the Interstate caused an affect something like a black hole, I knew I shouldn’t be driving at night anymore. The first time I saw the surgeon, she grounded me from driving altogether. That sucks.

Back in my Dad’s day, he had to have complete cornea implants. With stitches. He had to hang his head off the bed to sleep at night for three days or something like that. He popped the stitches on one eye and ended up having to live with that until he was up for a second set, about 20 years. Sounds like fun, right?

So I was nervous to say the least. Nervous but excited, and in a way, in an important way, lucky. See, my husband had a swollen blood vessel behind his left eye for which he gets injections. Then he ended up with shingles in his right eye for which he had drops; drops that caused a cataract for which he now needs surgery.

Lucky because although it was surgery and didn’t sound fun at all, it was “one and done.” No injections. A fair trade, I’d say.

The first surgery went along well enough except that the doctor failed to mention the aftercare instructions meant that for 24 hours I could only stand or sit for 15 minutes at a time, followed by an hour of laying flat with my head straight up and staring at the ceiling. Starting immediately. In order to get home then, we had a normally 45 minute drive which would have taken 3-4 hours, and then a postop first thing in the morning the next day. Um, no.

Without planning then, we found the closest hotel and I checked in. As I approached the counter, the desk clerk said the name of the clinic we’d been at. I guess the eye patch was a dead giveaway and we weren’t the first patients there. That was the case, as it turned out they had a patient discount.

This all seems like everything’s going along swell, right? Just wait for it…

They no longer perform a complete cornea implant for this Dystrophy. They graft. Sort of like patchwork. Its brilliant, because it means that a donated cornea can stretch so much further. The presurgical procedure for this involves a laser making a hole in the iris. My doctor told me it would feel like a rubberband snapped on my eyeball. She was right. That was exactly what it felt like. This creates a bubble in the eye that presses the graft into place and holds it there.

So far so good, right?

That night I was fine for a few hours but then I encountered horrible, terrible pain.

I had been told to call if there were any problems but does anyone ever really believe that? I didn’t. All I could take was Acetaminophen, and Acetaminophen PM, and boy howdie did I. Take the pill, go back to sleep. Fortunately the hotel had gigantic puffy pillows that made the perfect “V” shape to hold my head in place, so I was able to sleep.

I saw the doctor in the morning, and she knew what had happened almost immediately. I had somehow, by rubbing my eye or something, moved the bubble so that it was lodged behind my pupil.

That explained the pain.

She set me up for surgery immediately after her morning office hours. Their surgery center was in the same building, so all we had to do was move from one waiting room to another. Unfortunately, I had eaten that morning so all I couldn’t have had anesthesia. I didn’t care. It couldn’t hurt worse, and they promised me that I’d feel fine.

So I waited. By waiting, I mean I fell asleep. In one waiting room and in the other, leaning on my husband’s shoulder for the most part, and an obliging post for a bit. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and I wasn’t even popping the Acetaminophen PM anymore. But hell, it passed the time.

12:30 and they called me in for surgery. It was the lunch hour, so the surgical area was weirdly quiet as the team working on me were the only people back there. I was all comfy on the surgical cart, as ready as could be. The doctor was dressed for surgery, pulled the eye open, and said, “its back in place.”

The same way I’d knocked it out of place, I apparently knocked it back into place. Now that I was awake for a few minutes, I did finally notice that there was a lot less pain.

The second eye was a lot less trouble. We knew the routine now. I had a reservation and packed a bag for the hotel. The hubs got me set up, then went home to be with the cats & my best friend stayed the night with me. Hubs wanted to make sure there was someone with me, just in case. So we extended the stay an extra night just so we could just hang out.

I thought, for sure, that my eyes were as fantastic as they could be when this was all done. The actual healing was almost immediate. Two days, tops, and my vision was up to pre-surgery condition, a week and I could see better. That was it, I was sure.

Until they tested my vision. I now have my very first pair of all-day glasses. Not just readers, mind you. Proper glasses. I apparently now have an astigmatism, which doesn’t surprise me either. I thought my vision was as good as it was going to get, until I picked these up.

So I’m back to work. I can read. I can bead. I can create. Its keeping me busy, but then it was keeping me busy before, but I’m having a lot more fun with it now that I can see.

The Long, Sad Tale of WOE


First, this isn’t sadfishing. Honest. Just a combination of venting, warning, and attempting to laugh at the ridiculousness of life as it is in this bizarre timeline we’ve found ourselves in. We’re okay. Shaken, sure, but essentially still in the good fight.  Why is it that it has taken me so freaking long to get…

Camylleon's avatar by Camylleon

Autism-Adjacent, Part Two: Hopefully a Conclusion


I have to begin this post with an apology. I haven’t been ignoring you all, It’s been a helluva roller coaster ride with health issues around here. Enough for a completely different post… So, now where did I leave off…? Oh, yeah. The BIG, BAD DIAGNOSIS! To be absolutely honest, I was aware of this…

Camylleon's avatar by Camylleon

Autism-Adjacent, part One


I believe I’ve made a few references to my mental health battles here. Maybe not much specifically, but little hints here and there. Some might have assumed these were jokes but I assure you, they’re not. 🙂 With that in mind, I figure I might want to actually explain what that journey has entailed. I…

Camylleon's avatar by Camylleon