read my tea leaves

Revelatory Tea - Edible Spellcraft

Revelation comes from the Latin word revelare and means to lay bare. It is a drawing back of the curtain and opening the mind to truths about what it means to be human in the world. As humans, we often seek revelations about how we should be in the world. Whether we are seeking meaning and structure in our lives or just what we should do in the next few hours, we seek patterns that reveal truths. This revelatory tea, made from hibiscus and cinnamon, can elevate your thoughts and help you see your way more clearly.

You Will Need

  1. Hibiscus (dried)
  2. Cinnamon (a crushed nib off a cinnamon stick)
  3. Tea cup and saucer
  4. Pen and paper

Preparation
If it is part of your practice, cast a circle. As you sit with your ingredients before you, centre yourself. Ground yourself in the present moment by focusing on your breath, the sensations of your body, and your connection to the earth.  

Casting
Begin by placing a pinch of hibiscus and a smidge of cinnamon in the bottom of a tea cup. Next, set a kettle to boil. When the water has reached a low boil pour the water over the hibiscus and cinnamon and allow it to steep for no less than ten minutes and no more than fifteen.

While waiting for the hibiscus tea to steep, write your question, concern, or dilemma down. You may wish to make notes underneath your question of any key facts, people, or dates that will impact your choices. Then consider the different angles and approaches you could take; what are the potential consequences and what could you gain? Contemplate your question and propose multiple solutions. You may find your mind wanders during this process and that is okay; when you notice your attention has shifted gently draw it back.

After the tea has steeped, hold the cup before you and recite the following three times with intent:

Consider my situation
Give to me a revelation

Drink the tea, allowing your thoughts to settle like the leaves in the cup. Leave a very small amount of liquid in the cup. Then take the cup by the handle in your left hand and give it three swift circles. Be sure to move it in a deocil (sunwise, clockwise) direction. You will see the leaves shift and cling to the cup. Next, invert the cup over the saucer and allow the remaining tea water to run out. Then set the cup before you and look at leaves, opening your mind and imagination to what you see. Look for patterns and images. Perhaps, you see a bell, a bird, a letter, or a number. Record on your paper the images you see and write down what they might represent and how it applies to your situation.

After you have considered these things, set the paper aside and allow the revelation to steep in you like the herb steeped in the water. When the time is right your mind will settle on a way forward and you will be able to proceed.

Example

Potential Images

  • Bell: warning, anticipated news
  • Wand: creative action
  • Bird: forward movement (when flying) or luck (when roosting)
  • Heart: listen to your emotions and relationships
  • Moon: seek wisdom, draw on your strength
  • Serpent: deception, flattery
  • Triangle: change

Notes
Hibiscus: associated with Venus and the feminine; boosts clairvoyance and psychic energy
Cinnamon: associated with Sol, fire, and the masculine; adds sanctification and protection
Reading Tea Leaves: practised in many cultures throughout the world, the symbols can be subjective and should be interpreted through your intuition.

hey guys heres a terrifying thought

homestuck, john dies at the end, and the adventure zone all have weirdly similar fanbases that are, in some cases, nearly impossible to tell apart

Cups of Fortune; Cups of Loss

Sometimes, I’m approached and asked to do something that witches and folk magicians have been doing for ages. I’m asked to glimpse into someone’s life, both past and future. 

I usually tell them the same thing; to come have tea with me.
We sit and drink and chat. Sometimes in anticipation, they down their cup quickly. I look into it and see a story. I tell them a tale and they go on their way. 

Despite not being as popular these days, reading by tea leaves has been one of my favorite methods of divination for a long time. It’s old fashioned, quaint, and yet still deeply mystical. 
We think of little old women sipping on cups set atop saucers in a warm kitchen. We think of old wooden tables lined with thin lace fabric. We think of the prospects hidden among a bunch of wet leaves at the bottom of a cup.
This is folk magic.

I was taught to do it in a very simple way. For whomever you are to read, they will drink from the cup at least once. It’s better if they drink the whole cup, but it isn’t necessary. The drinking helps to bring messages. 
The person will think of what they wish to know as they sip. If it is a general glance over their life, they may relax and simply sip.
The tea will be drunk until a shallow puddle of water and leaves lay at the bottom. At that point, they will swish their cup three times, lay the saucer above the cup, grip them together, and flip them quickly. The cup shall be left turned for several minutes until all water has drained away. 

After drying, the cup’s prospects are revealed. The reader will look across the cup, making out symbols and narratives. They will interpret them to their own views. No book or symbol dictionary will tell the tale better. 
Let the words spill out of your mouth like the tea from the cup. Let their fate come from you. Tell their tale. 

Sometimes, when the message isn’t clear, another form of divination can be paired with it. Making out signs from smoke, from flames, or water can help to clarify the fortune in the cup. 

Don’t be afraid to be honest. Some fates are bad. Some fates are tragic. These too have to spill from the mouth, or the person might be blindsided by something they might’ve avoided. Cups of losses can be of as much use as cups of fortune.

There are many fates to be told at a kitchen table. A story of heartbreak and rage plays itself across the blue painted porcelain. A sordid tale of a mischievous love affair ensues in a terra cotta mug. A future of great wealth and gain spills itself over the saucer. A budding friendship blooms under a glass stein.

Whether a cup of fortune or a cup of loss, will you drink a cup of fate?

anonymous asked:

Can you go into a little details how you do wax readings? Please

No problem.

When doing a wax reading it depends on the candle your working with. This also goes hand in hand with candle magic in general so I’m going to skip over the stuff that doesn’t directly relate to the reading of the wax.

When it comes to wax reading it’s not unlike reading tea leaves, I could list all my symbols and what they mean when I see them in the wax, but those are personalized to me and so you’ll have to interpret these symbols yourself and build your own visual library.  

Pillar Candles : I personally use these for spells or offerings and treat the readings as such. I read the drippings, puddles and tokens the candle leaves behind after burning. A common sign is “tears” of wax that hang below the candle holder or that have separated and fallen on their own. Usually indicates, you guessed it, sadness, hurt, a sign that there will be pain or hardships before fruition of the spell. Another common sign is wax that drips onto offerings, usually means the offerings were needed / accepted. Unlike my usual method of wax reading this method is very reliant on the situation. 

Tea Lights / Contained Candles : My preferred method that involves lighting a candle and pouring out some of the collected wax into a dish of water. I usually have one specific for wax reading that has symbols and sigils on the glass in which I light and use multiple times. I’ll light the candle and ask the question, watching the flame for signs or signals, once there is a bit of wax collected I’ll blow out the candle and quickly tip the contents into a dish of water, letting the wax cool before examining the piece for symbols or signs. 

What to do with the wax once done : Heavily dependent on the situation and question at hand, I usually dispose of the pieces whether tossing to the wilds, burying at the cross roads, tossing off a bridge or leaving on a rail road. If I decide not to throw it away I’ll often keep it on me as a charm, or leave it on my altar, even collecting them in a box. I’ve amassed a large collection of ones I’ve kept and I’m tempted to make a new divination candle from them. 

So I hope this answers your question, this is how I do  my readings, there are different ways of doing wax readings but I find these are simple and work best for me. 

Red Jamie and the White Lady - Part 2

Well, since your response was so overwhelming, here’s part 2! Many many thanks to @diversemediums for helping me think things through! She and I are both excited to see what happens next. I can’t remember the last time when I had absolutely no idea what was coming on next in a story. Thanks for enjoying part one so much!

Catch up HERE


Claire didn’t go home with Geillis that night, unsure about what had happened with that strange psychic man.

“Claire please! You have to tell me everything!”

“There’s nothing to tell! He read my tea leaves, read a little from my palms and told me to come back.”

“Then why won’t you come home? Afraid I’ll pester you until you crack?”

Smiling, Claire rolled her eyes.

“Well you’re likely to do that anyway. But no. I’ve got a date with Frank tonight.”

“Oh,” Geillis said flatly. “You’ll be spending the night with him, then?”

“Yes. Unlike you, I prefer my love making to be private.”

Geillis gave her a coy smile.

“I can’t help it if I’m a passionate lover.”

“My only wish is that your ‘passion’ would be a little more quiet. I’m just going to change and then meet up with him for lunch between his classes.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll get the details out of you later.”

As they headed back toward their apartment, Claire realized she hadn’t gotten the number for the place or made an official appointment to return. No matter. She’d just come back when she had time.

Her lunch with Frank was normal, same as always. He talked about his classes, his problem students, how many he thought would pass his exams. She told him about the film she and Geillis had watched the night before. For some odd reason, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him about her strange experience with the mysterious Jamie Fraser.

She made dinner for them both in his apartment, ready and on the table when he arrived. They ate and made plans to go see a new museum exhibit the next week. A life with him would be comfortable, uneventful, and she would want for nothing. He would provide a good home and be a good father.

The palm of her hand tingled where Jamie had touched her and she thought about his words.

As if you’ve a big choice to make. Neither will lead to destruction, but one is clearly the better of the other.

Looking up from her own hand, she saw Frank waiting for an answer.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Are you ready for bed?”

“Oh, yes. I’m sorry, I completely zoned out for a moment.”

She followed him back to his bedroom where they made love the same way they always did. It wasn’t bad, but neither was it as amazing as Geillis always made it sound.

When she finally drifted asleep, she had the strangest dreams. The air around her smelled different, everything seemed younger, fresher.

She was walking, barefoot, through the wet grass. It was raining, but that wasn’t surprising for her. She was searching for something. No, for someone. He promised he’d meet her here, that he wouldn’t make her wait a moment longer.

“Christ, ye look like a wee Faerie, running about through the grass like that. Come here to me, Sassenach.”

“You’re late,” she said, turning to the familiar voice.

Turning around, she searched for his eyes, but her gaze couldn’t move from his lips.

“I was here on time, as I promised. But I didna want to interrupt ye.”

“Please, it’s been long enough!”

Large hands moved over her body in a way that only a lover would do. She felt him untie the laces at the back of her gown.

“It’s been two whole days, a nighean. Surely ye canna be that desperate.”

Her fingers found the sturdy folds of his kilt and began to tug them up. Finally, her gown loostened and she wriggled out of it, standing before him in only her thin shift.

“Closer to three, and yes I can. You’ve rather a voracious appetite, my lad, and I’ve gotten used to it.”

“It’s that good then, is it?”

“You know it is, you Scottish bastard.”

He had several days of stubble on his chin as he bent and kissed her. But oh! How she’d missed this mouth! Rough hands ran over her back and down to her buttocks, where he squeezed and let out a sigh.

“Roundest arse I’ve ever had the pleasure to see. And fondle.”

“I’m really not concerned with the fondling of my arse at the moment, good sir.”

“Fair point, my lady.”

While he worked on the ties of his shirt, she pulled his belt free and shook his kilt out on the ground. While this wouldn’t be the first time they’d made love out of doors, she wasn’t fond of the debris that got stuck on her everywhere.

God the smell of him, the feel of his toned body beneath her hands, the taste of his tongue probing inside her mouth. It was all too much. She shrugged out of her shift and lay down on his kilt, watching as he admired her naked body.

“Have I told ye lately, mo chridhe,” he whispered, speckling her skin with kisses as he made his way up to her lips. “How much I love ye?”

“Not in the last hour, no.”

“I love you,” he kissed beneath her left breast. “I love you.” A kiss beneath her right. “I love you.” A kiss right between them.

Taking fistfuls of his bright red hair in both her hands, she pulled his mouth up to her own.

“Come show me how much, my beloved husband.”

Then two blue eyes locked with her own. Eyes she’d seen before. The color seemed to be shifting through every shade of blue in existence.

“MINE,” growled his voice, thick with lust. “You are mine alone! Mine forever! I’ll no’ give ye up to another! No’ now, no’ ever!”

“Yes!” she screamed back at him, digging her fingers into whatever flesh she could find.

Her body was trembling beneath him, though not from cold. Both of her legs struggled to lock around him, her hips lifting to meet his thrusts. God she didn’t want this to ever end.

“Look at me, Claire!”

Forcing her eyes open, she met his gaze.

“Promise me. Promise me that we’ll always find each other. In this life and the next.”

“I swear it. I’m yours, forever and always Jamie. I love you.”

Claire shot up in bed, panting and sweating. Her body shook in a way it had never done before. Her breasts ached and there was a heavy dampness between her legs that hadn’t been there before.

Trying not to wake Frank, she got up and went to splash water on her face. Staring at herself in the mirror, she ran hands through her hair.

“What the hell was that, Beauchamp?”

***

Jamie tossed and turned, restless. In all his reading through his journals, he’d gleaned no further information on Miss Beauchamp.

Then all at once, he knew he’d fallen asleep. This wasn’t a normal dream, but the first vision he’d had in years.

He watched her wander through the field, stalking her as a wolf did a rabbit. But he would have her in his arms soon enough.

And then he had her, in his arms, smelling like the wet earth and that heady scent of her arousal. He couldn’t undress her fast enough, couldn’t feel her bare skin soon enough. Nearly three days, sleeping alone. Far, far too long.

Then he was above her, staring down into those inhumanly golden eyes, her breasts rubbing slightly against his chest as she panted.

“I love you,” he whispered against the skin of her chest.

“Come show me how much, beloved husband.”

Husband. They’d been married a month ago in secret. No one knew they had. He’d given her a silver ring and the key to his estate, along with his heart and virginity. But she kept them hidden.

He’d felt the ring sewen into one of her pockets, always with her. He had no idea what she’d done with the key. It didn’t matter. They belonged to each other and no one else. Soon enough, he’d get her with child and no one could separate them.

White hot pain pricked over his body where she clawed and drew blood.

“MINE,” he growled into her ear, resisting the urge to bite ite. “You are mine alone! Mine forever! I’ll no’ give ye up to another! No’ now, no’ ever!”

“Yes!”

Hearing her say that, while her hips lifted to meet his, gave him a primal pleasure he didn’t understand. Her body jerked as he felt himself prepare for release. His howl started low and guttural, growing in volume until-

Throwing the sheets off, he swung his legs over one side of his bed and put his hands on his knees. It took him several minutes to catch his breath and keep his hands from shaking. Christ he’d forgotten how intensely real these visions could be.

Visions of things he’d never experienced were the worst. Having never lain with a woman, he could only assume it would feel like that.

“Holy God,” he muttered to himself, running a hand over his head. “What just happened, Fraser? Get yourself together, man.”

Missing his longer hair, he took another breath and reached for the empty dream journal he kept beside his bed. For now he would jot down the notes and quick sketches quickly. Later, after he’d had time to study the vision, he’d write it down properly in the big book, sketch things out and take his time about it.

Wondering when he would see Miss Beauchamp again, he decided to take a shower and not dwell on his vision; or how he could still taste her in his mouth, or feel her breasts beneath his hands. Christ he could still feel her nipples between his teeth, feel her trembling, smell the intensity of her want for him. Perhaps it would be a cold shower.


Continue to Part 3 

For @bibliophilicwitch‘s Sunday Tomes and Tea, I’m reading The Classic Tales: 4000 Years of Jewish Lore, and drinking peach iced tea. The Classic Tales collects stories recorded by the Jewish people throughout their entire history and presents them as a narrative leading from the creation of the world up until the Chassidic dynasties. It’s also the book that’s gotten me out of my reading slump, hallelujah. 🙌

What do you do when you’re in a reading slump?

Hereditary gifts

I hope everyone had a lovely Thanksgiving. My dad invited my great aunts to dinner yesterday and they’re both retired Catholic nuns. This has always caused everyone to be slightly on edge out of fear of judgment. (On a side note, one of my great aunts isn’t blood related. My grandfather’s sister met her in the convent and they left together. This has caused a few lesbian theories because they’ve lived together forever but no one has ever asked.)

Somehow the topic of tarot cards came up. My Nonni started talking about how her father read tarot cards for everyone after dinners, especially holidays. My great aunt laughed and said ‘how wonderful! My mother used to read tea leaves!’. It’s hard to remember that even in the most devoutly Christian there are traditions in the family that transcend religion. They’re in our blood and souls. Even though no one has told you, you may hold hidden gifts passed down through the generations. That’s something to be thankful for.

anonymous asked:

Hello! I have what may be a really silly question, but I'm just beginning to seriously dabble in the art of energies... I've always felt I had more in me than people thought realistic.. anyway, I've started doing some research about reading tea leaves, but my problem is, I'm not big on tea. I actually kind of hate it. I'm REALLY big on coffee, and I'm wondering if since I French press, and end up with a lot of grounds in the bottom of my cup each morning, with intention, can I read the grounds?

Of course you can. You would just apply the same concepts of tea to the French press - looking for shapes and nearness to the top. You might have to experiment a bit to find the best way to do that. Also some people like to scry the shapes their cream makes when they pour it into their coffee. (If you take cream in your coffee)

anonymous asked:

Hello! I have what may be a really silly question, but I'm just beginning to seriously dabble in the art of energies... I've always felt I had more in me than people thought realistic.. anyway, I've started doing some research about reading tea leaves, but my problem is, I'm not big on tea. I actually kind of hate it. I'm REALLY big on coffee, and I'm wondering if since I French press, and end up with a lot of grounds in the bottom of my cup each morning, with intention, can I read the grounds?

Absolutely! And if you happen to add cream to your coffee, you can scry the swirls as well.

chasing albion

I thought London would be different.
The last time I was here,
I left with raindrops tangled in my hair
and a scar between my thighs;
I curled into a ball on the train
and counted the cobblestones on every street
from Brixton to Blackhorse.

I thought London would be different.
Faster than New York,
darker than Chicago,
wetter than Seattle—
but I spend days wandering the cramped streets,
buildings shoved into a reluctant kiss.
The sidewalks say, Look Left / Look Right,
but I’ve torn a hole in my favorite blue jacket
by clipping a bus.

I thought London would be different.
The underground is so much brighter
than I remember,
with arched white walls and cushioned seats.
Was the light always this soft?
The last time I was here, the train
rattled and jerked for hours
as it crossed down Picadilly
and I stared at my shoes,
missing something.

I thought London would be different.
That this time,
I would rewrite the pages that I lost
like a rare manuscript of the British Library,
that I would draw my own fortune
inside tea leaves,
that I’d meet my soulmate reading Zadie Smith
on the late-night bus.

I thought I would be different.
But I’m still searching for myself
in the small print on plane tickets
and hoping to find peace
after just one more trip.

3

“My mother, she likes to read tea leaves and you know what that’s saying to me right now? It’s saying ‘Coco, you’ve made a mess… of everything.”

“You’ve made this so complicated for me with the steps! I’m just making a fucking cuppa tea! Steps… I don’t do steps. I don’t have time for that buzzfeed bullshit. You know what I do? Make a fucking cuppa tea!”

I love Coco Peru. Watch this video of her making tea. It’ll make you giggle.
http://youtu.be/n1UCxfRvRGo

Outlander Rewatch Night 1: Sassenach

Tonight I’ve started my rewatch of the Outlander series. I’ll be going night by night watching a minimum of one ep a night and hopefully summarizing what I thought/saw/felt while watching. 

The episode of the night is Sassenach, and here are my thoughts:


If this is what Scotland looks like all the time, take me there NOW.

Claire’s voice… it’s so different from the beginning of this episode compared to all of the others. 

“I do know this, even now, even after all the pain, death and heartbreak that would follow I would still make the same choice.” -Claire 
This quote is so important. I WOULD STILL MAKE THE SAME CHOICE. Jamie is her choice. Her true love is her choice. She wouldn’t change what happened that day she fell through the stones, because it sent her to her love.

Sassy Claire is my favorite Claire. The look she gives Frank when he questions her judgement about blood is priceless. 

Frank looks as though he’s about to confess something, and yet you shush him and make him have sex with you… nice tactic, Claire. 

When Claire steps into the surgery her face is bright and full of excitement, it quickly fades to something of horror/disgust/remembrance… maybe feeling some slight (early?) deja vu?

“Is it Walter?”–not even close Claire. Good job paying attention to your husband’s hobby.

Mrs. Graham is amazing and I want her to read my tea leaves and palm!

Oh hey, look at this nice little piece of foreshadowing… Claire in the kitchen, listening to how the Duke of Sandringham is killed under ‘mysterious circumstances.’ (Murtagh, with the axe, in the kitchen.)<–this is spoken like when you accuse in the game of Clue.

GHOST JAMIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Um… Frank, you’re an ass. How dare you accuse Claire of infidelity! Pissed off/Sassy Claire makes her second appearance this episode. And I would not have forgiven him that easy/had sex with him. I definitely would NOT have instigated sex as it seems Claire did. Asshole Frank is an asshole. 

DRUIDS!!! This scene always gives me chills. Massive kudos to Bear for this breathtaking soundtrack.

Fastest sunrise ever.

What if Claire had fallen through with Frank standing there? He touches the stones and nothing…would he have believed more if she disappeared right then before his eyes?

Doesn’t Black Jack have a cousin named Frank? I’m 99.999999% sure that in the book BJR says he has a cousin by that name when she calls him ‘Frank’. 

Murtagh to the rescue! (#SAVEMURTAGH)

I love how they all speak in Gaelic around her. 

THE SILENT CONVERSATIONS AND THE HEAD NODS ORIGINS RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW!! THEY’VE BEEN CONNECTED LIKE THIS SINCE .5 SECONDS OF KNOWING ONE ANOTHER!!!

Jamie’s look of awe as he watches her help him. <3

I wouldn’t mind being snuggled up to that highlander for the however many mile ride they have ahead of them. 

Jamie’s accent, especially when speaking Gaelic…I’m dead. 

“I shall pick you up and throw you over my shoulder. Do you want me to do that?” (everyone apart from Claire screaming YESSSSSSSSSS) Claire “No!”

Bloody, dirty, sweaty Jamie is sexy. 

The look of exasperation Claire has when the men have no idea what she’s talking about cracks me up. But of course they all have alcohol and Angus (who didn’t want to help her earlier, is the first and most eager to hand her his flask). 

Jamie’s look of love and awe as Claire chews him out for not telling her about the gunshot wound. He’s already fully gone and in love, and she is too because she’s so worried about him in this moment that she’s angry.

SASSY CLAIRE PART THREE!!!! Major eye rolls at the MacKenzie me as they criticize her foul mouth. Eye roll “You can mind your own bloody business and so can Saint Paul!” another eye roll. 

She pulls her hand away from him so fast after she helps him stand up, almost as if she’s felt the lightning bolt course through her, that he already has embraced. 


Ok, so I couldn’t put my book reader/previously watched brain away, but I enjoyed this viewing so much!!

Tomorrow night 8pm EST: Castle Leoch!

Dream Analysis for Liz

I have been thinking about our lovely, meaty dream sequence and about how much we are meant to break it down and interpret into it or take it relatively at face value…. And this got away from me a little so it’s under a readmore, spoilers for the dream sequence in 2.03 below

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