Sew a little pouch no bigger than a plum, and fill it with the grasses that smell of open air and the feather of a bird that knows nothing of your troubles. Carry it, and let it carry for you.
A sachet worn against the body is a small and constant reminder, and here the reminder is of lightness rather than protection. As the moon grows, you practice setting down an old weight so that the new season finds your hands free. What the feather teaches is that some things are meant to be light enough to leave.
The Working
- On the first night of the waxing moon, cut a square of pale linen and lay upon it a handful of dried sweet grass.
- Add a single grey feather, found and not taken, and a thread the color of the thing you wish to set down.
- Knot into the thread, once, the name of the weight, then gather the linen and bind the pouch closed with that same thread.
- Hold the finished sachet to your breastbone and breathe across it, so it learns your burden by scent.
- Carry it near you as the moon waxes, and each time you feel its small weight, let it stand in for the larger weight you are laying down.
- On the full moon, unpick the knot, shake the sweet grass to the wind, and let the feather go from an open hand.
- Wash the linen and keep it plain for another season.
The Incantation
Sweet grass gathered from the open field,
grey feather that owes me nothing,
carry this weight a little while,
light as you are, and lighter.
When the moon is round I loose you both;
go to the wind, and take it with you.
The sweet grass scatters and the feather lifts, and your step is easier than the pouch that held them. Lightness, once practiced, is not soon forgotten.