Lisa Marie Basile

Like a lot of people with chronic illness or autoimmune/autoinflammatory disorders, I went through a dead-end labyrinth to get my diagnosis.

Some grief is inert. Some grief is an engine. Sometimes actively participating in grief, I’ve learned, is one small way we can learn to escape its riptide.

My happiness is what undid me, ironically. I worried so much about being OK with the happiness that I fell apart.

In this column, I talk about things other people think or say, but not out loud, and certainly not in public. No one wants to say, “People either love me or hate me” because it sounds ridiculous and arrogant and icky.

This article first appeared on Luna Luna and has been republished with permission. 

I am fortunate to receive tons of wonderful books on a wide range of topics, but some of my favorites include those by talented witches and magical beings whose books approach magic in accessible, inclusive, radical, and fresh ways.

I am always on the lookout for books which a) present an updated look at magic and witchcraft to a modern audience, b) frame witchcraft in a way that is inclusive and holistic — meaning it addresses systemic issues in society, and c) blend and blur genres — books of narrative non-fiction alongside research, poetry entwined with spellcraft, or divination techniques alongside storytelling.

The sum of a city isn’t always made up of its parts.

Is there a certain quality to letter writing or diary keeping that inspires the confessional? I believe so.