I recently attended a ritual at the beach with several other women. See Ritual, Waves, and Wedding Magic. One of the incidental joys of the weekend was getting to spend time with and share a room with my niece, Becky.   On the last night Becky and I were lying in bed talking about this and that and how the ritual went and I said, “You know, when you called the powers of the west, your wording was so close to the way we call the guardians of the watchtowers* that they all came—not just the west, but every quarter.” As soon as I said that the light in the ceiling fan started to glow softly and then got brighter and brighter. Then it dimmed back, leaving the room in darkness. Becky and I stared up in disbelief. As if to reassure us that we weren’t imagining things, it did it again. Then the fan came on, sending a blast of cold air down onto… Read More »