I am Siân.
 

 

Magick has never been lost on me.

As a bud of a child the peripheral vision of fae and whispers of the conifers at the bottom of my English garden were vivid; I honoured the medicine of child self with story writing as my gift.

But I never spoke of the fae as my truth.

I self silenced.

A maiden in the 90’s and early 00’s, I took to secret reading of the occult despite my catholic background, illuminating my room with candles and finding my fingers upon Ouija Boards with a handful of friends who nurtured the same pull to the paranormal as myself. I honoured the medicine of my maiden self with new age incense becoming a sensory path to spirit and remembering times long gone.

But I soon stifled my truth with high academia and alcohol and food.

I self silenced. -

My first child swam out of my body into a warm bath when I was 22 and on a patriarchally programmed success-road of making it in a mans marketing world and doing it wearing a suit. But my body yielded with grace and ease to life entering and emerging from it and I found the magick of being a vessel, the bubbling oceanic cauldron, the Mother and when I could no longer stand to dumb down the breasts that spurted milk between the buttons of a starched shirt, I allowed the golden nuggets of souls to continue to ripen and make life within my womb until I had birthed four little priestesses from the lush lands of my fertility. I honoured the medicine of the mother by hearing and following the call to become a birth worker and with every child that I witnessed be born, whether to stay or to leave and with every lesson I learned about the ignorance of patriarchy in a goddess’ birthing space, and with every autonomous decision for a woman to roar and catch her own child and the angels that I saw guide souls down from the corner of the room, I found sacred rage and glowing holiness all at once. I learned how to meld and be a container not just for my offering of legacy but for the workings of women resisting the need to follow old paradigm as well as those who could see no way out.

But I stifled my truth as a doula by holding the legs of women who purple pushed at the demand of a man.

I self silenced

And now I am 35 and on the Heroine’s journey. I am taking space on my own throne as Matriarch of my life and family, stepping away from the maiden years of needing to be seen for all the things I do right, towards the Queen, the Empress of the tarot who holds beneath her floor-trailing skirts all of the wisdom of her grandmothers and she knows that as above, so below, as below, so above. She spirals. When she goes out, she can find her way back in.

And so, as a woman of wordcraft, as a mother of what some see as many, as a space holder in ceremony around the blood mysteries, as a proficient retreat facilitator and herbalist and full spectrum birth attendant and energy worker, I am looking to the years of the Enchantress. She who is creatrix, who has found her way back home to herself.

I have nothing much left to silence in this place of rising up only for myself, knowing that I am not responsible for directing anything or anyone; I simply hold the edges for brave space.

And so it is.

Siân lives just outside Calgary with her soul partner and husband of 20 years, their four daughters and a beloved chest of herbs and journals She works as a birth doula and mentor, reiki master, theta healer, holds quarterly pregnancy retreats & conducts ceremony for those in the child bearing years.