To clarify, I'm a serious skeptic, but just agnostic enough to enjoy the idea of the possibility of magic. My feeling is that it can't hurt, and even if objects don't do any divine channeling, by choosing and using them they allow the mind to focus well on what is desired, and be reminded of its hopes and goals.

So there's a lot of juju around my house. It's culturally interesting as well. There's a little travel-size shrine to Ganesh. There's a bottle of St. Joseph's healing oil from a cathedral in Quebec. There's an egg-shaped doll from Japan; I painted its face, making a wish while I painted in one eye. The other eye is to remain unpainted until the wish comes true. I see it every day when I make coffee, and it reminds me to work on making that wish come true. Dollar coins are kind of a talisman for me. I once threw a dollar coin into the river, wishing I'd return to live in that town one day, and the next year I got a job there and moved. Magic? No, probably just a symbol of my clear desire to return there. When I spill salt, I can't stop myself from throwing it over my left shoulder; I can still hear my Irish grandmother's insistence that I do so, and I can't imagine not listening. That's one behavior that ties me to my roots.

I have the house key my parents gave me in fifth grade. Since they still live in the same place, it still unlocks the door. It also seems to keep me from losing things, particularly other keys I put on the same ring.

I have:
- a baseball cap from the hospice my father died in, that I wear when I go on auditions or somewhere cool to show him.

- a hemp hat from my first-ever show (the one on Triode's Flickr of Lipstick the Camera-making Elf pics)

- my tattoos

That's about it. I have things people have given me that have sentimental value, but aren't quite up to juju status yet.

I always carry at least one AA 'chip' with me, one on my keyring and the other in my change. They're not really 'juju' but in case I ever needed a reminder not to drink, they're there. So far I haven't needed to be reminded of what it was like.

No objects qualify. Ritual:

If I need to center or if I need a little something extra, I, in order:

- stretch
- elevate heart rate
- balance on toes
- stand still, close eyes
put hand over heart and say silently or whisper:

"The heart is on the left side of the chest. It pulses and it is warm."

or sometimes

"With every breath in you are living, with every breath out you are dying."

Takes about ten minutes.

I also walk around in winter with a battery in my right jacket pocket and a few inches of silk ribbon in the left. I shove my gloveless hands in my pockets and fiddle with these items as I walk: they help me think and keep my hands warm.

I buy a bag of Golden Flake potato chips.

Just of habit, I kiss my knuckes and tap the ceiling of the car when I go through a yellow. I'm not even sure what it's supposed to do - probably something to do with orgasms... I think.

There's an egg-shaped doll from Japan; I painted its face, making a wish while I painted in one eye. The other eye is to remain unpainted until the wish comes true. I see it every day when I make coffee, and it reminds me to work on making that wish come true.

A daruma; I have one too. I never think any wish is important enough to waste on him though, so to date he remains eyeless.

My feeling is that it can't hurt, and even if objects don't do any divine channeling, by choosing and using them they allow the mind to focus well on what is desired, and be reminded of its hopes and goals.

I like that. A lot. I guess that's all I'm gonna say, except maybe that the Moon and the Sun themselves are where I most often turn. At least one is almost always around even when I don't have any pockets.

There's this music box in the living room at my mom's house (she has one of those untouchable living rooms, with a baby grand and a sofa no one's ever sat on). It's a kind of leather-covered gazebo, the music box, with six small doors around the circumference that fan open to reveal a tiny gold-toned ballerina up on one toe-point, the left knee angle-raised, arms extended, turning round and round to the music in the center of the bare floor. The doors slowly open on her to one tune (I forget what it's called, but I can hum it) and close to another.

Whenever I'm alone at my mom's house, I sneak in the living room and play this music box. I'm sure my mom would let me play it anytime, if I asked, but I don't. Only if I'm alone. I like to watch her, the ballerina, through the closing doors.

There's a jelly plastic scorpion in my take-stuff-to-work bag. I've had it for so long I can't remember where it came from. Every time I swap bags, I make sure to move the scorpion. I don't know what would happen if I lost it, but I get the sense it wouldn't be good.

I have a lot of little trinkets I keep around me to remind me of certain things, or people.

-a pill case with a peacock on it that was my grandmother's.
-the charm bracelet my mom got me when I turned 16, each charm represents a certain idea or time period in my life.
-a ball bearing that I had in my pocket when I almost died (there's a long entry about this incident on my blog somewhere, if you're curious).

I don't have to have these items on me at all times (although I wear the bracelet to job interviews), I just like to have them around.

I used to have the perfect pocket rock. It was teardrop-shaped, about the size of a dime, and perfectly smooth. I found it on a beach in far Northern California and instantly fell in love with it. Carried it every day.

But I lost it a couple months ago. My best guess is that the cat knocked it off the night stand and into the trash (he plays trash can basketball on a nightly basis), where it fell to the bottom and got thrown out.

Makes me sad. I miss my rock. :(

(Typing this actually made me tear up a bit.)