My First Time: Shadow Magick

So, upon researching Shadow Magick, I found it slightly terrifying, but I knew it was something I needed to do for myself.


Essentially, shadow magick is psychological witchcraft. You connect with your shadow- your true, whole self. The bad things, the things you like to hide and pretend are not really a part of you. Depression, anger, hatred, bad habits, etc. Like it or not, all these aspects are just that; aspects of your true self. It might be terrifying facing these ‘horrible’ aspects of yourself, but once you truly face your shadow, you can become centered, balanced and whole. They are there, your shadow exists, whether you like to admit it or not, You can either befriend it and use it to your advantage, or become enemies and spend your life fighting what will never go away….essentially, your ‘demons’.


I know I am a rather dark person, and I have a lot of messed up history and emotions, but I am tired of fighting them. I needed to face it head onnand embrace it. So, I did. I sat in complete darkness and used music as a channel for these raw emotions and thoughts, an idea brought to me by the writer of ‘Magic Under the Black Sun’, who goes really in depth on shadow magic.

I shielded and got straight to work. I grabbed a pen and notebook and began my journey into my subconscious, seeking out my darker counterpart. I found her. Locked away in a cript, and she was way too excited to see me. I told her my intentions: “I need insight. I want to know who I really am. I want to see my strengths and weaknesses.”


She stood there with a sharp toothed grin, her entire being a mixture of pure darkness and tar. Pitch black. In a courageous act, I held out my hand to her. When I move to connect with a divine being, I will dance with them, (I do this often with Thanatos) in an attempt to sync with them entirely.


Her grip was tight and uncomfortable. Her moves were fluid. She was comfortable in her own darkness, and I was not. I fumbled around, I was stepped on, I was jerked around like a puppet. She delighted in my fear, but I could tell she was also frusturated and needed me to step up my game. So I did. I let it all out, I cried, I screamed, I hated, I loved…I faced her, looking into those dark pits of her eyes, and I danced. I let her lead me.


In the real world, I had lost it. I had began writing down these weaknesses, but they soon turned to scrawled scripts of anger, sadness, desperation, and the phrase, ‘let me out’ repeatedly. She took hold and began to scribble all the horrible things she was comprised of.


After the page was full, messages and words overlapping, I began to feel exhausted and drained. I needed to stop. Our dance ended, I meakly thanked her and allowed her to return to her now unchained crypt.


It took me 15 minutes to properly ground and center. But somehow…I feel vaguely…satisfied.