This St. Patrick’s Day, when the pubs of Ireland, Boston, and New York are closed, travel from Europe is suspended, and the whole world is gripped in a terrible kind of uncertainty, I need to tell a story about the day I worked a magic spell while driving a tiny car down the left side of the road.
This story is proof that magic and Sovereignty are all around us, even when pandemic has disrupted life as we know it and we’re on the couch with a can of Guinness, wishing we were out at the pub with friends or taking a flight on Aer Lingus.
It was an indifferent sort of Irish morning, a bit of gray sweater weather that didn’t necessarily promise sunshine or rain. It was enough for us. We were tourists with a warm, dry car who’d just had a full breakfast, complete with black pudding, fried up for us in a big house in County Mayo. The hospitality was a blessing to be sure, but we needed to be in Roscommon by noon. I wanted to get out of this twenty-first century castle and into the wilds. Someone was waiting for us, and he promised to show us a place that was at once the birthplace of the goddess and the gateway to hell.
When my aunt, my twenty-something cousin, and my eight-year- old daughter finally got into the car, I was tight lipped and silent. Every part of me was on the move—except my actual body that had to sit in the driver’s seat as everyone wedged their American luggage into a European car. With about four days of experience driving on the left side of narrow roads, I was finally ready to drive the speed limit—and exceed it. But with all the twists and turns and crowded main streets that stretched between us and the village of Tulsk, I realized that no amount of white-knuckle speeding (and “Oh, Jesus, Marisa, that was close!” comments) could get us there on time.
There was nothing to do but practice some magic.
I’d tried this before when I was back home in the Hudson Valley. Then, I’d wanted to save my daughter from that dreaded feeling of being the last one left at the curb. Do you remember the waves of rage and fear of abandonment that used to wash over you before you had a concept of traffic or understood that your mother had more to do than wait for you to be done with school? Those kid fears still burn in me, and I’d do a lot to save my girls from such experiences, but my worries about their righteous indignation was nothing compared to what I was feeling here on the N60 road. We were speeding to the place I was most eager and most afraid to explore, and I couldn’t stand to miss it just because my family needed to graze a table heavy with bacon and eggs and have just one more cup of tea.
And so, I started working on the underside of time.
My hands were on the steering wheel, but my fingers were actually wrapped around the knots of energy that lay beneath the surface of the earth. I was trying to find the strands of time and space that are layered beneath our understanding of the moment. I was tugging at the fabric of the universe, and though I had no idea what I was doing, somehow I understood exactly how it had to be done. Clearly, I was messing with something bigger than me, something that would have consequences. Though I’ve long been someone who likes to talk about magic, I have rarely gathered the courage or the focus to risk the doing of it. That’s the tricky thing about believing in magic—you’re also wise enough to be a little bit afraid of it, or at least in awe of it. If “magic is the art of changing consciousness at will,” I need to admit that I’m both excited and terrified of change and the mystery of consciousness. But then, Sovereignty relies on recognizing your own power to shift your experience by shifting your perceptions. The real trick of magic (and Sovereignty) is simply in believing you know how and then giving it a try.
Was I actually altering the space-time continuum as we sped to County Roscommon? Was there any risk of changing the distant future or somehow shortening my own life as I attempted to stretch and fold time on this particular April morning? Or was I just soothing my own frustrations with fantasies that I could use the power of my intentions to slow the clock or move the ponderous truck to the shoulder of the road?
All I know is that it worked.
Moira at Rathcroghan in Co. Roscommon, April 2018
Because I focused less on worry and more on magic, my family was spared the nasty sounding “hurry up” that welled in my throat. Added bonus: I felt like a sorceress (and proved myself to be a badass “wrong side of the road” driver). Most importantly, we ended up beating our guide to the meeting point and we were set for a day that would change my consciousness in powerful, lasting ways.
If you want to credit our peaceful, timely arrival to my self-control, luck, and coincidence, be my guest, but honestly, I think you get more out of calling it magic. This “what you see is what you get” perspective on the world never explains all the miracles, synchronicities, and sacred experiences we witness every blessed day. Stubborn pragmatism labels these moments of wonder and connection as mere whimsy, delusion, or child’s play, but that approach robs us of the best parts of being alive. Sovereignty is about rooting into real life and transforming suffering, division, and oppression. Sovereignty, as I choose to define and embody it, is also about conspiring with your imagination to reach spiritual depths and mysteries unseen.
As you come to believe in your own inherent power and get to know the Sovereignty archetypes that dwell within, you’ll realize that talking to goddesses and focusing energy on changing your own consciousness in order to change the world is more potent than sheer practicality and planning alone ever could be. The magic that lets us manipulate time and space might not quite look like stepping through the standing stones and entering another century like they do in Outlander, but it looks everything like the life I crave. Real life is full of real magic and it’s available to all of us who dare to look for it, treasure it, and conjure it.
Want to find out where those Irish country roads took us? Get a copy of The Sovereignty Knot today.
This is an except from The Sovereignty Knot: A Woman’s Way to Freedom, Power, Love, and Magic.
You can get the ebook from Amazon.
Or, please consider supporting your local bookshop by asking them to order you a copy. You can buy The Sovereignty Knot from my local store, Inquiring Minds of New Paltz by calling 845-255-8300. (They’re offering free shipping through the US while they’re closed due to the Coronavirus).
