I recently finished reading Caliban and the Witch, which was essentially 242 pages of me sitting on the couch doing this.
And in a powerful bit of synchronicity, the book “just happened” to explore threads that had already been weaving their way through my dreams, journaling, and magical practice.
Let’s start with a quote that stopped me in my tracks:
Eradicating these [magical] practices was a necessary condition for the capitalist rationalization of work, since magic appeared as an illicit form of power and an instrument to obtain what one wanted without work, that is, a refusal of work in action. (142)
In a capitalist worldview, you’re not supposed to “get something for nothing”—which is deeply ironic, given how the ruling class literally depends on extracting labor, resources, and time from those with less power. You’re supposed to earn every last scrap “by the sweat of your brow.”
Magic was seen as a flagrant subversion of this “rule.”
And that got me thinking: how does this show up in my magical practice?
Before I read the book, I’d already been wondering—especially in light of my current health stuff—how I might be refusing to let magic help me. How, in some ways, it felt like cheating to let my life be even a little bit easier. As if I needed to prove I’d earned rest, support, or ease.
Which led to a bigger question: What would it look like to make my life more accessible…to me?
🪞Reclaiming Accessibility (Inside and Out)
I’m used to thinking about accessibility in an external sense—how can we make our spaces and systems more inclusive, more just, more responsive to the needs of all people, not just those with power?
That work is crucial.
But lately, I’ve had to turn that same lens inward.
Capitalism doesn’t just create inequality (though it can’t function without it). It also creates exhaustion. And when you layer in things like racial and gender-based oppression, poverty, chronic illness, neurodivergence, or lack of generational support (just to name a few), that exhaustion intensifies.
If I want to be part of collective change, I need energy. And with my thyroid issues lowering my reserves, I’ve had to ask:
How can I adjust my own habits, environment, and schedule to better support me—instead of constantly contorting myself to meet ill-fitting external standards?
Asking that has helped me spot some lingering people-pleasing behaviors.
For instance, I’m part of a bi-monthly genderqueer book club that I love. But I was always wiped afterward—getting home late, rushing through food and showers, tossing and turning in bed because I didn’t have my usual wind-down time, and feeling extra sloggy the next day. Plus, my symptoms sometimes get worse in the evening, so the longer I stayed, the worse I felt.
🤔 The solution was absurdly simple:
I let the facilitator know I’d need to leave after an hour. They were totally cool with it. I set an alarm, and when it goes off, I say my goodbyes and head out.
Now I get to enjoy book club and take care of myself.
And honestly? I can’t believe it ever felt like that wasn’t allowed. Why? And by whom? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I’ve been training this curious lens on other areas of my life, including my work.
How can I make my book-writing, marketing, finances, and tech feel more accessible—less like a machine I have to feed and more like a practice I can grow with?
That question has led to some experiments here at Real Magic School.
Sharing what I’m learning about Jungian psychology and magic, and not just for people who can afford to pay, is important to me. Offering high-quality free content is part of my values. And not simply free content that exists solely to funnel you into paid offerings. Just plain ol’ free.
At the same time, if I’m to create a business that supports me—financially, but also energetically—I need to strike a more sustainable balance between free and paid offerings.
So here’s what I’m trying:
Instead of monthly subscriptions (which can feel like too much for both me and the folks who’d like to support my work), I’m leaning toward occasional paid offerings, like the recent spellcasting guides I’ve created, Desire Magic That (Actually) Works and All the Feels: The Inner Architecture of Spellwork.
This also reflects how my energy seems to flow right now. Health challenges mean I tend to work in bursts rather than maintaining an even cadence. Having flexibility helps me show up more fully and creatively.
At the end of the day, I’m not trying to be a content machine.
I’m trying to live a life that feels meaningful and connected. I’m doing my best to tend to my energy so I can keep writing, making art, and creating magic for and with the people who find value in what I do.
So, thank you for being here, my friend. 🙏
However and whenever you show up, I’m grateful to have you in my weird little pocket of the internet.
