I could have started a Mystery School about 10 years before I actually did.
Once upon a time, I was the fortune teller at my nieces’ elementary school Fall Festival.
I had a tent with pillows and twinkly lights, and little kids would crawl in and sit with me, knee to knee, and hold their chubby little hands out for me to read their palms.
I would steady their hand in mine, trace my finger down a long crease in their palm, look into their curious eyes, and tell them about their pure heart, their great many friends, and their bright future.
After a whole day of offering these readings, a group of about 5 older girls (the big shots, you know, 5th graders) came to have their fortunes told.
They sat down and held their hands out one at a time, surrounded by their friends who leaned in to listen.
As each of their “fortunes” were told, they would burst into giggles, confirming the accuracy and probability of the fortunes.
Oh my gosh, she’s right, you are the sweetest friend!
No way! It’s so true, you are always helping other people!
She’s right! You always have great ideas!
I mean, get outta here. How cute is that? These girls cheering each other on like that.
I thought my heart would burst.
But then, it did.
After the last girl in the bunch got her fortune, after she chose her favorite color of glitter (green) and made a “wish for the Earth” (blue was water, gold was fire, and silver was air), she leaned in close.
Where do you live? she asked.
I pointed over her shoulder, Deep in the mountains, I said (not a lie).
Do you teach this? she asked
Yes, I answered (a lie, I hadn’t realized it was something to teach).
Then can we come back to your home with you, in the mountains? she asked, with all of her friends chiming in Yeah, can we?
I had to choke back tears.
Really.
This was such a sincere desire, such a strong pull these kids had to learn mystery.
The mysteries of making connection, of seeing someone’s true nature within seconds of meeting them, of having intimacy with the elements, to name a few.
I surprised myself with how I answered them.
One day, I said, without having a clue what I meant by that.
Fast forward a little over a decade and voila’, a genuine Mystery School, deep in the mountains!
I’m proud to say that in the last 3 years since my mystery school, The Mystical Year opened, 33 people have attended this year-long program.
And now, there are mystical graduate programs because so many of these women are called to deepen their practice and keep going.
A few of the mystery school programs are offered ‘on campus’, deep in the mountains.
And others are offered through my crystal ball (aka Zoom).
It’s a dream come true, a seed planted by an unassuming crew of 5th graders dressed in Halloween costumes.
But this is not just a dream come true for me.
It’s a dream for the participants, too.
To have a place where your weird-o mystical proclivities are not only taken seriously, but encouraged and honed….
To be held by a facilitator who walks her talk and has an unshakably steady rhythm with the seasons (we joke that I’m the bass player in the mystical band)…
To have a consistent relationship with ritual, the sacred seasons, and magic…
Well, there’s nothing better.
If you tend to look deep, listen close, and hear a mysterious language of symbols, elements, cycles, and ritual, then this is a dream come true for you, too.
The Mystical Year is a mystery school of archetypes, aroma, and the Wheel of the Year.
It is a pilgrimage to your sacred self; a reclamation of your birthright.
The doors are open. You can be part of the next mystery school sisterhood.
Is it time for you to step through the threshold and join?
love & faux fur,
kv
