The Calling
An Origin Story
I sighed and muttered quietly, “Okay, okay, I hear you,” as I went to find my tarot cards tonight. That feeling had been nudging at me all afternoon. It’s like the Goddess is saying, “Dammit, girl, pull the cards. I’m talking to you.” And some days, that’s exactly how it feels. Some days it’s the wide-awake-at-3AM urgency, the sense that I must do the thing. You know—like this website.
Most of the time, though, it’s the quieter calls that offer the clearest direction. The hints or signs that show up again and again. The quiet curiosity that won’t be ignored. The sudden moment of insight or realization. Callings come in more sizes than a t-shirt:
- the quiet whisper (“hey… this is interesting”)
- the gentle nudge (“maybe you should explore this”)
- the persistent voice (“seriously, pay attention!”)
- the cosmic alarm clock (“WAKE UP AND DO THE THING!”)
For a long time, every time I wandered the web looking for all things witchy, I found the same thing: sites that hadn’t been updated in years – sometimes decades – or a morass of sales pages, recycled spells, hexes, and I’m pretty sure one guy who was actually selling snake oil. I’d abandon the search and move on. After all, I’ve been practicing for over 30 years; it wasn’t a need, just an interest.
And yet, I kept circling back. Same results. Occasionally a new snake oil salesman. Rinse and repeat.
I grew tired of it, thinking, “A real witch needs to make a better site.”
Not, notably: I should make one.
There were a few half-hearted domain searches. A few passing thoughts. Nothing that stuck.
Until one Ostara morning, around 3am, I woke up. Not just awake. Awake. Thinking, moving… driven. By 4am, I had a name. By dawn, the first draft. By the time I started work that day, it had a shape.
And then… quiet.
I tinkered. Tested. Tried. Sometimes I abandoned it, or thought I had, only to find myself drawn back again and again. Then one day, that last piece clicked, and everything fell into place. I swear, a week later I looked up from a writing frenzy to find thousands of words written. Pages outlined, ideas explored, concepts turned into drafts.
This is a big job. I’m one person, and this isn’t for money. It’s a labor of love, and maybe also an act of worship.
And some days, the doubts hit hard. Especially when life outside of this gets rocky.
One day, I was ready to throw in the towel.
But every time I thought about giving up, I had this persistent, nagging urge to go look at my tarot cards. Which is funny, because tarot isn’t even my go-to form of divination. I kept mentally waving it off.
Until that evening.
I sat down to work on… something, anything – and the spiral of negative thoughts started again. And there it was again: that insistent pull toward the cards.
I sighed.
“Okay, okay, I hear you.”
And I went to find them.
Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
Vague thoughts about the site.
A voice in the back of my mind: “You’re too frustrated. This won’t work.”
Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
“Focus,” I told myself.
Shuffle. Cut. Draw.
Ace of Wands. Seven of Wands. Reversed Nine of Swords.
Ace of Wands: that spark, that beginning, that thing.
Seven of Wands: stand your ground; you have the advantage.
Reversed Nine of Swords: working through adversity is hard, but it leads somewhere better.
I stared at the cards for a long moment. Double-checked my interpretations. Then leaned back with a quiet:
“Damn. Okay, then.”
Not everyone gets a lightning-bolt moment. Sometimes it’s a slow unfolding. Sometimes it’s a long-standing curiosity. Sometimes it’s the obstacle that keeps showing up in your path.
Pay attention to patterns.
But also, don’t force meaning into everything.
The calling you’re waiting for might already be here.
It might be the thing you keep coming back to.
The search you abandon, then return to.
The idea you keep half-starting.
That’s still a calling.
Just a quieter one.