My friend
Enigma and I went to the beach on Monday. We went in the morning, before the crowd arrived. It was a hot day in most of Los Angeles. The wind was really strong at the beach, which made it a very sandy experience, but nice and cool.
We went to Leo Carillo, but we couldn't go in the caves because the tide was too strong. We had planned to do a ritual to release some old karma and obstacles (mostly from old relationships, what else?). One thing Enigma had wanted to do was burn an old love note. We were going to cast a circle and all that. But then it was so windy, and we couldn't go in the caves for cover.
Enigma started taking photos and I went to sit on some rocks and just let the pounding surf cleanse me. I believe that if you sit on the beach long enough, everything will be taken out of you but yourself- the only thing that needs to remain. The sound of the earth's heartbeat is like natural meditation. You cannot hold onto anything unnecessary when you listen to the surf.
I found myself almost unconsciously collecting little stones that were within reach and creating small circles and patterns with them. Witchcraft is not a religion at the beach, it is a conversation; a dialogue you have with sun, sand, wave, and wind.
"Is that for the witchcraft Circle?" Enigma asked, as she sat down beside me and admired my handiwork.
"You know, we probably don't even need all the ritual," I answered. "Let's just let all of these big heavy burdens be something so insignificant that we just throw them in the trashcan as we leave."
Enigma felt like her note still needed to be burned with ceremony. We decided to go in search of an alcove or protected area after we had absorbed enough of the beauty before us.
We chit-chatted idly. I always learn stuff from Enigma. For instance, lesbians always wipe their mouths after they eat pussy.
"Most guys love the dripping cum mouth."
"Really?" She asked me, incredulously. "Why?"
"They love getting their load all over everything. Like you are over filled with their manly juices. They love shooting off on everything- breasts, ass, face, mouth."
"Will most guys kiss you after you go down on them?"
"Most, yeah."
Lesbians are also not into bald pussy. Trimming is big, but not shaving or waxing. Enigma does sleep with men occasionally. But it is just sex, never anything emotional.
"Breeder sex is kind of boring," she informs me. "I have toys all over my house. And sex between two women is never a 3 minute affair." Later that day I will almost trip over a dildo in her apartment. She's not kidding.
Flocks of pelicans were out hunting. They would fly overhead and then dip down to just inches above the waves, flying low and slow, wings steady. They looked like Star Wars spaceship cruisers. They were unearthly, stunning, and perfect.
We couldn't stay for long, we both had other things to do that day. When we got to the car I remembered Enigma's love note.
"It's just something to throw away," I said. "We don't need the ritual. There is no past or future at the beach, just now."
"Yeah," she agreed. "I don't want to make a big deal about it anymore. That relationship is over."
There is no bullshit in life that can't be released by a couple of hours watching the waves and wildlife of the beach.
Enigma wadded up the note and dropped it in the trashcan without hesitation or ceremony. As she did, another flock of pelicans flew overhead in perfect formation. As one unit they descended on the waves and hovered, low and slow, wings outspread and steady, but otherwise motionless. We paused to watch them until they flew out of sight.
"Wow," Enigma breathed.
"Yeah," I agreed.
We got in the car to drive home. And since we'd left all of our burdens and bullshit from the past at the beach, we were able to carry some of the magick of the morning back with us to the real world.
TOODLE ON!!!
