storming down memory lane, literally
In the post-work rain yesterday I trekked over to one of my old high school haunts, Athenian Candle Company. It’s right in Greektown, a walk away from my alma mater Whitney Young.
Athenian Candle is part occult bookstore, part religious supply shop, part botánica, and part candle factory. They have the most unique collection of stuff (for lack of a better term) in Chicago. Lots of candles made on site, in every color known to man, fun spell-casting books, herbs, powders, tinctures, oils, incense, charm bags, talismans, religious statuary, and more. If you can find it in a church, a Wiccan coven, or hanging around the neck of a Voo Doo practitioner, they have it.
The shop is a big part of my own personal history.
In high school I used to visit once a week to buy stuff; a blue candle because I had a cold (blue heals), some lumps of dragons blood (to protect), and oils of all sorts to make lotions and potions and everything in between. I was heavy into Wicca, herbology, astrology, numerology, and had a burning desire to find myself somewhere in clouds of smoke, by the light of a candle.
The Power, as I’ve come to call it, is pretty strong stuff. It’s everywhere, and using It takes skill, caution, determination and above all, practice. I’m not going to dig deeper into the topic of magick here. I suppose that’s a topic for a podcast. But, I’ll recite a very useful axiom for life:
An it harm none, do what thou wilt.
Athenian Candle became THE go-to place for me. With lots of help from folks at the store, I began to find my spiritual way in the world. I bought books, learned how to blend oils, taught myself how to make incense (cones, sticks, powder), how to work with parchment, how to use candles the right way, the differences among the occult arts, and tons more. I basically gave myself a crash-course in the occult, learning along the way what worked for me and what didn’t.
That’s kinda the genius of magick.
I managed to build up quite a repository. Sort of like a full pantry or a well stocked refrigerator. Unfortunately, during a particularly rough point during my teenage years, my parents found everything, mildly freaked out, and threw everything away.
Hundreds of dollars (my collection was amassed over almost three years) and so many hours of work put into building that collection vanished in an instant. I thought my world would end. The next chance I had, I intended to hit Athenian Candle to buy some black candles, which I planned to use in a less than desirable way.
On my way to the shop the next day (during lunch period) I was angry with my family for not understanding me. In what I considered a perfect mirror of my emotions, there was a violent thunderstorm that afternoon. I was walking in the rain to the store, clutching my umbrella, rejoicing that nature was as angry as I was. They should know better than to mess with me, I thought. I’ll show them!
The moment I stepped up onto the doorstep of the shop, the rain stopped. Bizarre as that sounds, it was pouring one moment and quiet the next. I left my umbrella at the door as I entered. The usual sweet smell of the shop wrapped itself around me. It’s hard to describe, sort of like beeswax, flowers, and good smelling soap all at the same time.
Anyway, I marched right over to the candles (steps away from the door really) and stared pointedly at the box of shiny black tapers. I knew what I wanted to do. I knew what I though I could do. I knew better than to go messing with stuff that was way stronger than me, but I was angry. A couple black candles… some nightshade from the neighbors fence… write their names on paper in red ink…
Without looking, I felt the door of the shop open and a woman walked in. I didn’t hear her, or see her come through the door, I sort of felt her come into the shop. Kind of like the way you can feel someone staring at you. You just know there is another person there.
Oddly, she felt big. My mind had decided she was a large woman, adorned with charms, rings, and lots of necklaces, wearing galoshes, clutching a large dripping pink umbrella. But when I turned to look at her she was very small, plainly dressed, and holding a shopping bag with the Hindu Aum symbol on it. She had no umbrella and was oddly dry as a bone.
We locked eyes for a moment and she smiled. A warm, generous, broad smile, teeth and all. In a split-second I went from being upset with my family (and the world) for not understanding me, to realizing that life is about people and experiences, not bottles of oil and herbs. Before I knew it, I was laughing. We didn’t speak, but I watched her mill around the store, gathering up a few things. A moment later she paid and left.
I grabbed a blue candle, ran to the counter, handed 54 cents to the clerk (I knew most of the prices by heart) and ran out the door to thank her. I couldn’t see her on Halsted, so I looked down Jackson. Nothing. I ran up to Van Buren, but couldn’t find her. I even ran over to Adams, sure she’d be there. Nope.
It started raining again, just as hard as before, but I’d left my umbrella in the store so I was beginning to get soaked. There I was, blue candle in hand, in the rain, trying to find the woman with the big smile and the Aum bag.
Yesterday while walking to the shop in the rain all I could think about was that woman. Was she even real? Did I make her up in my head?
Maybe someday I’ll run into her again and have the chance to thank her for the smile she gave me.
April 12th, 2008
Could the woman have been a manifestation of your good spirit/side? You were angry but a part of you stopped your emotions from taking control of your decisions. Interesting story, to say the least.