White Magic Friday #3: Sometimes Explanations Are in Order

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," where we're considering quitting the day job in favor of being a professional poet! As you can see in the post below, we rank with the Yeatses and Whitmans of this world. Why not make a living at it?

We've started a new feature here at TGAB: White Magic Friday. In this way we hope to allay fears that all magick is dangerous, evil, and demonic.

(I know my readers don't feel that way, but some people do, and this is the world wide web -- a great teaching tool, for better or worse.)

Lesson #3

Sometimes you have to tell a person that you've worked white magick for them.

Illustration:

About a month ago, an iddy biddy gymnast spent her final day in physical therapy before returning to her grueling round of competitive gymnastics. This darling youngster couldn't have been more than 11, and already she had been hurt several times doing vaults and floor exercises.

(Don't get me started on broken bones in 11-year-old gymnasts. I think I've already ranted about that anyway.)

It is customary at this therapy site to give each "graduate" a t-shirt. So the therapist picked out the smallest size t-shirt she could find to give to the little girl.

Before the little girl touched it, I asked her if she would like to have it infused with good magick. She was rather surprised, but she said yes.

So I took the t-shirt, and I said a little prayer to the bored gods that went something like this:

Dear Bored Gods,

Whatever you did to keep my mom from getting injured back in the day when she was a gymnast and acrobat, please now do for this sweet little girl. Mom never got hurt, and she did some risky shit. So kindly watch out for this youngster so she doesn't have to come into this ugly room with the mustard-colored walls anymore.

What I like about the bored gods is that you don't have to watch your language or anything. They're grateful for the attention. Expletives don't bother them.

So, I handed the t-shirt to the little girl, and I told her it was now her "magic t-shirt" and that it would keep her from getting injured if she listened to her coaches and kept her form correct and didn't take unneccessary chances.

Notice that caveat there at the end.

The little girl went dancing out, proud to show her mom her "magic shirt." Oh, she was a darling! I miss seeing her at rehab.

Lesson Learned: Go ahead and admit to doing magick, mindful that subliminal messages are an important component thereof.

FROM ANNE
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS