I have a new “Poison Nightshade” bead series that I’ve made for the Halloween season. The idea behind is has a long story behind it, but I thought that it was one worth sharing.
Recently I realized that magic is real and a part of us all, in fact it’s the fabric of reality. I used to be a perfectly practical and pragmatic person, in fact I went so far in that direction that I almost lost my spark. I neglected my own self care and felt like my responsibilities were eating me alive, but the more I pushed myself forward the more I felt like I was falling behind.
Last October, just before Halloween I went for a walk in the cemetery, that is just up the road from my house. To the back of the cemetery, where the oldest graves are, there is one cemetery plot in particular that is hard to miss. Dr. Pomroy was a successful doctor from the 1800’s who prescribed herbal remedies.
His cemetery plot is gorgeous, every bit of it is covered in stone with an enormous pink granite monument in the center. There are heavy pink granite bird baths on either side. The pyramid theme continues in the stone walls around the plot, and the cut stone slabs that cover each grave. There are steps to invite you up. In this poor town his plot stands out.
On this October day there was one thing growing on this beautiful stone covered plot. I’ve always loved plants and identifying them and I recognized the plant with beautiful red berries as poison nightshade, and google confirmed that I was correct. “Poison nightshade on an herbal healer’s grave!” I was thrilled with the joke and thought the timing, just before Halloween was especially thrilling and creepy.
There was one other time months before this that I visited this cemetery plot. I had taken my daughter for a stroller ride and fascinated with the elaborate plot I put the brakes on her stroller and went to check it out. A moment later my daughter was flying down the hill and I sprinted after her just narrowly catching the stroller before it crashed. My daughter was completely unconcerned and never realized what had happened but I was quite unsettled. I must have not put the brake on properly.
Intrigue became a seed in my mind, like the seed that a bird had dropped by the birdbath that had sprouted into poison nightshade. My daughter and I went back the cemetery as Winter fell and she was wearing a pair of bright purple mittens. I was trying to get her to take a nap and she was very grumpy. Having never read the inscriptions on the stone, I removed her from her stroller and took her with me so that this time, the stroller wouldn’t roll away down the hill with her in it. She started having a tantrum, not uncommon for a strong willed two year old and before I could read the stone I had to leave with her. When we were almost back home she noticed that her mittens were gone and she started screaming “my mittens, my mittens!” I decided to go back later to retrace our steps but never got the chance to go back.
An impulse came to me a few weeks later. I was standing in my bedroom, which happens to be my favorite room in the house. It used to be an old attic and has walls that angle in but we were able to renovate it into a master bedroom. I had a vision for the room for years since buying our house. I painted the entire room white, with a white wood floor and a turquoise blue rug.
While standing there I remembered that years earlier when I first moved to this part of town, a friend and I had done a little bit of research into Dr. Pomroy and that he had a written a book of herbal recipes. I had never bought or read the book, so I decided to order a copy. I was busy with work so I never had time to look it up.
Later when I had a spare moment, I couldn’t remember what I had had an impulse to do, just the feeling of it. It felt good. It took a few minutes to recall what the impulse actually had been. I have always enjoyed plants and foraging so I thought I might be able to learn about some local medicinal plants from his book. To my surprise the book has been archived and was available for reading free online.
Even more to my surprise the book was titled “Clairvoyant Reminiscences and Herbal Recipes” and included the life story of Dr.Pomroy. I found the story engrossing, so engrossing that I couldn’t remember getting so lost in a book before and it reminded me of when I was a young girl reading novels.
Dr.Pomroy describes walking to a city 2 hours drive from here to find employment as a 15 year old, and walking through the Black Woods not realizing how expansive the forest was and having to spend the night there with wolves howling around him. He describes the development of his clairvoyant powers and frequently going to mesmerists. I always assumed that Dr.Pomroy had been a doctor who claimed to be clairvoyant. I never realized that clairvoyance led to his becoming a doctor. He prescribed herbal medicines for people in a time when mercury was prescribed as a medicine, surgery was crude, unsanitary, misunderstood and over-prescribed. Most of his patients came to him after traditional doctors could not help.
I fell in love with Dr.Pomroy and I felt so much connection to him as he described growing up here in a remote disadvantaged area, but having a deep love and connection with it at the same time. It was like reading a fantasy story that took place in your hometown. It made me start thinking about many aspects of my life, including having the bravery to go out in the world and share your gifts, knowing that not everyone will like or accept them.
After reading the book, I went back to visit his grave again on a winter day. We had about an inch of snow covering the ground and I went for a run. My footsteps packed the snow under my feet. I walked up the steps to his plot and this time I finally got to read the names and dates on the stones. I walked around behind the stone and exactly where I stepped and disturbed the snow was my daughter’s purple mitten.
The older I get the more I realize that love is all there is to life and the only key to living a good one. We are sometimes taught to protect our hearts and to “grow up” and stop seeing the world with the loving accepting eyes of a child. When we hear about a story of a clairvoyant person, our mind goes to disproving and explaining.
The fact is that we do not live in a material world. There is something more, and there is something that bridges the divide between the material and the spiritual. That thing is God. That thing is magic. That thing is love. The differences between those three words, only exist in our mind, and our mind is a thing that differentiates. Beyond the practical view of the mind, there is only one thing, Love/God/Oneness.
I have since gone on to thoroughly research Dr.Pomroy and I have gone on many field trips in the process. It has been like a scavenger hunt, with lots of Easter eggs along the way, but the real prize in the end of every worthy endeavor, is none other than finding our authentic “self”, our nature as Love. The things I have found and experienced have been rich, all underlying expressions of love.
Love comes through to us in gifts, in different ways. For me it’s a deep connection with nature, a love of art and creativity. The things we are passionate about doing are the ways in which Love flows through us.
Yes, Magic is real. Its existence is what ties us together in shared being. It shows itself to us by coincidence, synchronicity, and shared connection, it’s what makes this random and sometimes cruel seeming universe collapse into something small at times. Whenever we find out that we have a connection with some seemingly random person and we say “It’s a small world!”, and in that moment, magic happens.
We are connected. We are all one. What is real never dies, but lives on as Love. Sometimes that love is a crow dropping a poison berry so it sprouts into a weed that grows on the grave or an herbal healer. There are no mistakes in life, it’s all by intelligent design.
It only requires our belief, and our recognition and acknowledgement to be seen. There is no difference between love, creativity, flow states and magic. Magic=Love. Open your heart to see it.