There is a belief in the witchy world that a hex is put on a person who has wronged them. It is the “may the energy that one gives off come back to them three times” type of vibe.
For a hex, you see, is nothing more than pure intention that has A LOT of negative energy behind it, in the form of anger, frustration and at times, rage.
As someone who doesn’t throw hexes around very often (only if I see a speeding car outside the school crossing, I promise!), I must admit to two occasions where I have used a hex. One without realising it, and the other with full intention behind it, because I was more than a little peeved.
Let me tell you about the first one, the one that I didn’t realise I did until last month.
The annoyance came one December about six years ago when we had some winter snow.
I was driving back to my house after staying at my parents’ home for the night. On my journey, the snow dropped rapidly and as I approached a particularly tricky corner a few streets down the hill from where I live, my car decided to get itself stuck.
Try as I might, I could not move my big old car up the snowy, icy hill, it just kept skidding round from the back and making enough noise to get some of the neighbours to come out and look.
One of those neighbours was a sweet old lady who tried to help me but was as useful as I was, not great to be honest. I needed someone strong to push the back whilst I put my foot on the gas.
Getting myself a little stressed as I knew that soon there would be more cars on this road, I felt flustered and even more angered because a man had come out to watch me on his doorstep.
As he slowly lit his cigarette, he inhaled deeply drawing on the fag and watching in what I only felt was smug amusement at an elderly woman and a younger one trying in vain to move a vehicle in the middle of a snowstorm.
I rather loudly yet passively aggressively made a comment about “if this was my husband on the doorstep he certainly would be offering to help right now!” as I speed dialled said husband to please come and rescue me with some tyre snow socks and a shovel.
Ten minutes later, there was husband, helping me like the gent he is, and lazy man still enjoying the show from the comfort of his threshold.
As I slowly ascended the hill, now with some traction from the snow socks, I muttered under my breath “I hope you get the same treatment one day, Mr “I’m going to stand and smirk and not help” horrible little man!!”.
That was it, that’s all I said, and left it at that.
This December just gone, we had epic snow in the UK, it was Canada level fantastic, dry and snowman buildable and it lasted a whole entire WEEK. Thus, causing chaos to pretty much everyone, except for me, as I didn’t have to drive anywhere this time.
On our walk home from school during snow week, my daughter and I went past the house that belonged to Mr “I like to stare at others whilst in their hour of need” man.
And, like some weird yet beautiful coincidence, there he was, in his car, approaching his house, tentatively on the same bit of road I was on a few years back. He was attempting to park. He was failing.
As it dawned on me that we were having a complete role reversal, me outside looking at him trying to navigate his car, my little girl let out a “oh” as his car started back spinning all over the place.
Try as he might, his car was a like a turned over tortoise trying to get up the slanted road and failing miserably. He was losing control and the skids were getting worse, he was making a real pig’s ear of it.
As our eyes met, I did a chuckle (he saw me) and I sang “I see you rolling….” As we joyfully walked on by, listening to his car skids and strained exhaust sounds getting quieter in the distance.
It was only then that I realised my unintentional hex may have worked. If this was an isolated incident, I would have said it was just a synchronicity.
But it wasn’t. As mentioned at the start of this blog, I had an even bigger and quite frankly, more serious experience with a hex.
I will save that one for next week…….!
Until next time,
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