Day 9: we magic

I have the good fortune here in London to possess a lovely group of girlfriends - aka 'the coven' - who are grounded, kind, supportive, and mindful - and today one of these beautiful witches, Di, came over to cast a little bit of magic. 

We started our afternoon with a stop at a studio-shop for 'modern soul seekers' across the street from our flat. Aptly called She's Lost Control, it has such delights as 'full moon sprays' (for love, calm, and protection; one of the group used the latter one before entering a music festival once and she didn't get groped A SINGLE TIME, so basically: 100% effective), beautiful stoneware, and, of course, magic spells. 

Because I was too broke to afford any of the spells (plus I already feel loved and lucky), I went for a bundle of palo santo, a wood known for its 'cleansing, healing, and energising', that is meant to be lit and wafted (I can already hear Al resoundingly mocking me; this is not my first time buying sticks for aromatherapy). Apparently palo santo is closely related to frankincense (with notes of eucalyptus, pine, lemon, and mint), which says all I need to know. I am ready to LIGHT this. 

[pic stolen from their website; I forgot to snap it]

 But before we get to the business of making my house smell like a church, we have one more stop to make: a new cafe that's just opened around the corner, called Still Life. It incorporates all the elements that we look for in our counter - I mean, coffee - culture: taxidermy, skulls, air plants, marble, and Instagram-ready lattes. 

The glass cases to the left exhibit striking (stuffed or skeleton'd) animals and natural plants. Apparently the owner hosts an art class once a week and you can pick out any object you'd like to draw. A STILL LIFE, GET IT. 

Turmeric latte with oat milk, natch, and the day's wellness kit all ready to go. The tinctures are handmade by Di herself from herbs and roots she either forages or grows. There's a hawthorne winter buster (with hawthorne, yarrow and elderberry), a yarrow root cure-all (with red clove), and chill juice (with lavender, jasmine, rosemary, lemon balm and amethyst). I've been squirting these bad boys into hot lemon water all winter; they're soothing af. 

World's most Instagrammable oatmeal raisin cookie. ALL his cookies are this pretty; you almost hate to eat them. Almost.

Then we head back to mine for The Burning. I am ready to wave this smoke around until my house smells like the Greek Orthodox Church. Di shows me how to use it (for all that I'm the fire-whisperer, Al makes fun of me for my inability to coax smoke from the aforementioned aromatherapy stick) and walks around our living room, wafting good vibes everywhere.  

I know I'm entranced; doubly-so if it gets rid of bad energy (though I'd settle for scaring off our upstairs neighbours, who like to hoover at midnight, followed by a round of square-dancing). Last night there was so much erratic thumping - it's the unpredictable thuds that keep me jumping - that I would've burned a log if it'd smoke them out.

Man, I need to light this stick again already. Serenity now . . .