Archive | Ruby Intuition

The Church of the Magic Chair

Last weekend while in the, ahem, Hamptons (they’re so tony I can scarcely type their name), I went to a bevy of amazing yardsales. Most prized among my booty was an antique wood rocking chair made by the grandfather of the man who sold it to me; when I accurately described the grandfather (who was right around us as far as I was concerned), the man—a year-rounder who worked construction—gave it to me for $10 and a hug. Such a cute person. After money changed paws, he helped me attach the chair to Sadie, my forever-on-the-blink Hyundai. I lugged it up to my third-floor Brooklyn walkup with much huffing and puffing and more than a few reservations: Ever since my apartment rehab, I’ve considered the near-emptiness of my living room to be the height of glamour. But the chair has turned out to be a great writing ally–this man’s grandpa may have harbored literary fancies of his own–and as I type in it, permakitten Gracie nestles beneath, purring to herself and squeaking in happy fright whenever I rock unexpectedly. I suspect this Grandpa ghost is blocking whatever other energy was giving her agita, and I’m glad for him, as well as for her. My Summer of Reckoning sure has produced some treasures.


Life as a familiar is sometimes tough for my permakitten Grace. I thought I’d sensed a funny energy in the house tonight (not bad, just funny) and then realized Gracie was likely sensing it too, as she was bobbing her head like she was watching a tennis match. After 30 minutes of chasing seemingly nothing with the fervor she’d normally reserve for a fly or a piece of string, she is now scowling at the corner where I’d originally sensed the energy, her paws crossed protectively upon my leg. It’s hard out there for a pimp, er, witch’s kitty.


Most of the time I don’t put my mishegos online, at least before it’s been digested and lessons have been learned. I will try not to do so here. But suffice it to say it’s not been my standard mermaid summer thus far–more like an unhappy summer of reckoning– and chances are good the next six weeks also will prove challenging. I don’t relish that others struggle too but it helps to know I’m not the only one in the thickets from time to time. So this morning, as I tackle an obstacle that makes my blood run cold and my guts turn to lead, I send bolstering energy, white light, bruja magic, deep breaths, blueberry pie, and love, yes, love to all of us, not just me. It feels bigger and stronger, somehow. I keep flashing on that Becket quote: “I can’t go on. I’ll go on.” And thinking: People do it all the time.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy