By Michelle Lewis, The Blessings Butterfly
The story I am about to tell you is completely, unequivocally, true. I have changed the names of the people, but everything else is factual. Even if you do not believe in practical magick, witchcraft, energetic healing, or you believe that all things Woo are just fiction, it is still a true story.
Magick Everywhere
It was a beautiful spring Friday in the South of France back in 2019. There was a tingling sense of magick everywhere. I was wearing the hell out of a fabulous little form-fitting red dress and rose-gold leather flats, awkwardly waiting to begin re-entering the so-called “real world” and having normal, banal conversations again. The past week had been intense, sometimes brutal, redefining. An initiation, of sorts. I was honestly struggling with this freshly peeled Self and the wild-goddess energy that had been swirling, re-awakened inside me. I felt as though I had been split wide open emotionally from digging through layers and layers of my own bullshit all week long, because that is just what we do at personal development retreats.
We were all outside the villa that afternoon waiting for our Big Treat: a fancy lunch at a Michelin star French restaurant. The taxis were all running late that day, and our host’s vehicle was currently being repaired, so there was little choice but to wait for the next group of us to be picked up. (There are far worse places to wait. I did not mind.) Any minute now, our rides would arrive and whisk us off to be absolutely pampered. Oui, oui!
I did not mind lingering. It was nice to be in the yard with Mackenzie and Monique and Angela and Catalina- the leaders of this event- and I cannot be totally sure, but I think that Amy and Henrietta were still there too. Henrietta was there for sure, because she shared a picture of the Little Black Bat later- but wait, I am getting ahead of myself. Anyway- we were just waiting patiently in the side yard, enjoying the sun and the breeze and the fresh air. It was warm enough to move our little waiting party into the quiet courtyard for a sit-down in the shade. Lola the house cat had preceded us, claiming a sunny spot outside the villa to lounge.
The Little Black Bat
I looked up and saw a small dark spot appear on the wall of the villa, some 20 yards away, just above the shutter on the second-floor window. I had noticed a bat hiding in that same area earlier in the week. The small dark spot on the wall was not there 5 minutes earlier, but now I could not take my eyes off it. I was compelled and watched with curiosity as it seemed to get a little larger, and a little larger again, until I realized that it was a little black bat.
“Huh, that’s a bat,” I said quietly to no one in particular. I thought it was odd for the little black bat to be out in the middle of the day, exposed and vulnerable in the afternoon sun. “That’s odd,” I said softly, and then “Oh no- she’s going to fall!” And then she did. By now, some of the others around me were also watching the spot that had become a little black bat. We saw her tumble off the wall, bumping and banging her way down to the ground below. “Lola is going to catch her,” I said. And then she did.
I was beginning to wonder if I was simply predicting the future, or if I was somehow ushering it in with my words.
Lola the house cat had been watching the dark spot on the side of the villa wall intently, and when the little black bat hit the ground Lola went right to her. We all gasped, someone cried out “Oh SH*T!” and with the little black bat in her mouth, Lola the house cat locked eyes with me from across the yard. I said, “Lola’s going to bring her over here.” And then she did.
The energy that I could feel surging inside me was electricity, volcanic fire, brightest light, tingling crystal clarity. I was somehow connected in my mind to both Lola the house cat and the little black bat. I held Lola’s gaze and stayed calm as she padded along the grass towards us. I heard some fearful gasps and felt the nervous energy of the women behind and beside me. I heard someone say, “NOPE I’m out!” and someone else said, “Oh HELL NO!” as she got up out of her seat. I could not move though; the connection was too palpable, the energy too intense, and I did not want it to end yet. I held Lola’s gaze and centered myself in calm. I wanted her to drop the bat and leave her alone. I was hoping in my heart that the bat was not already dead.
And that’s when things got weird.
Letting People See I Might Be a Witch
Lola brought the bat over to our little courtyard gathering, carrying her with her teeth. Everyone else moved away, some jumping quickly and some stepping slowly, and I got off the bench and moved in closer. Lola dropped the frightened bat on the dirt in front of me like an offering on the altar. Little Black Bat’s terror-and-pain-filled shrieking filled the air. I positioned myself in front of her about 2 feet away, slowly crouching down into a low squat and began talking to her softly. Soothing her with my voice, coaxing her into a space of healing, I told her not to be afraid, and that I would guide her from here forward. We were truly connected energetically so that I could help her if she wanted me to. Help her to die peacefully; or help her to heal if that was her choice.
Lola the house cat stayed close by and watched in a casual, classically glamorous French way as the little black bat writhed on the ground before us. Aloof, while simultaneously ready to pounce on her, Lola the house cat was clearly not interested in eating the little black bat, she was just bored. She might decide to kill her just because she could, or she night just as easily play with her like a new toy.
I heard Mackenzie say to the left of me like, “What we really want to have happen here is for Lola to just kill her,” or something awfully close to that. Whether that statement was born of bloodlust or of compassion, I cannot be too sure. I will assume the best in hopes that she did not want to see the creature suffer. Of course not, none of us did. Little Black Bat was trembling, crying, visibly terrified. I just held my ground and kept speaking to her and soothing her, telling her that she was okay and safe now and that she was almost there. My arms were outstretched, palms facing the little black bat, holding space for my energy to flow towards her. For the first time, I could see her spirit begin edging out of her tiny body, not quite here and not quite there, like the glimpse of an aura in the midday sun.
“Is she just going to die there slowly for hours and hours?” I could hear the discomfort and anxiety and frustration in Mackenzie’s voice. “No,” I said crisply, still connected to Little Black Bat, never looking away from my miniature charge. Her tiny black eyes were looking straight into mine. “You’re almost there,” I said softly and poured Love into the little black bat.
I spoke next to Lola: “Either kill her quickly, Lola, or leave her alone. Do not play with her.” Lola the house cat immediately pounced and smacked Little Black Bat with her paw, like a toy, causing her to flip over onto her back, small leathery black wings outstretched and trembling. It was not a death punch. It was a taunt, a domination. “LOLA! No.” My voice was clear and commanding, my left hand was holding space for the little bat, concentrating love-energy towards her. I reached over and tapped Lola’s back with my right hand and said firmly, “That’s enough.” Lola turned and sauntered away from us, tail held high. This was no longer fun for her and she simply could not be bothered to care.
I do not know who was still there watching us at this point, I could not see them- but I knew that I could not abandon Little Black Bat now. I would be the one to shepherd her one way or the other. Her choice. “What do you want to do?” I asked her, softly. “What do you want?” Little Black Bat had finally stopped shrieking and was breathing ever so slowly, mouth open. Her tiny, needle-sharp fangs were so brilliantly white against her glistening black fur. “What do you want to do, Little Black Bat?” I asked her one last time. She became completely still. I could still see her glossy black eyes locked with mine. I waited, my heart racing. “Do you want to fly?” Then I heard the faintest whisper in my heart, felt a tiny pulse, saw the word YES written in my mind. I felt a surge of energy move out through my hands and into her lifeless body.
And that was when she turned herself over and flew away, up and over the trees and gone. Flap, flap, flap, flap.
A Witch Returns to the Mundane
I could barely feel my legs and feet after being in that low squat for so long. Somehow, I found the strength to stand up and return to my seat on the bench and understand what had just happened. I felt so strange and exposed and vulnerable in the bright afternoon sunlight. I wished that I too could fly up and away from the saucer-sized staring eyes and the uncomfortable looks of disbelief and the thick awkward realization that another witch had just been reborn among us, and it was me.
“So- that just happened,” I said as nonchalantly as I possibly could while trying to gracefully push my magic back down inside me, like I was simply smoothing the wrinkles out of my dress against my belly and thighs.
Nobody said a word about what we had just experienced as we all quietly squeezed into the taxi that had finally pulled up. The air inside the cab was heavy with knowing. The muscles in my back were searing with white hot spasm as the fire inside me returned to it’s rightful place. In silence, reverence, and awe, we made our way into town and rejoined the rest of our group for an elegant, multi-course gourmet French lunch. “Soooo… I might actually be a witch,” I casually announced to our table before telling them the story about how I had used my magick to save the life of a Little Black Bat.
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