Witchy Waters

It was stupid o’clock in the morning when my alarm went off for the total lunar eclipse. March 3rd. Rooftop. Cool air. Sleep still in my eyes.
The witches of TikTok had been going on and on about this lunar eclipse for a week. Apparently this one was potent. Not a “manifest your dream man and a beach house” kind of eclipse. No, this was the broom-and-dustpan version. Clear the junk. Remove the blockages. Take out the trash in your energetic garage.
Now, I’m a little witchy. I don’t own a proper cauldron. I don’t have a dramatic apothecary wall with labeled jars of eye of newt and ethically sourced rosemary. But I respect the vibe. I believe in energy. I believe in intention. And I definitely believe in standing naked under a full moon if the mood strikes.
So there I am on the rooftop, watching the moon get slowly eaten alive. Full and glowing… then a silky crescent… then a thin silver sliver… and finally gone. Just a shadow hanging in the sky.
As it disappeared, I started making my mental list. Aches and pains I’d happily evict. Professional bottlenecks that feel like traffic on a one-lane road. And yes, let’s be honest, any blockages around money. I don’t know anyone who wakes up thinking, “You know what I need? Less cash flow.”
Here’s a little trick I use when money feels tight.
I picture a mountain stream. Clear, strong, cascading downhill. The current is steady. Alive. The stronger that stream feels in my imagination, the more money seems to move in my actual life.

But when cash flow slows, When I imagine my stream, I see boulders in the water. Big ones. Blocking the flow. And I’ll picture them cracking, exploding, dissolving. Clearing the path so the water can run again.
Call it witchcraft. Call it mindset. Call it me getting off my butt and making better decisions. Whatever it is, it usually works.
But yesterday morning was different.
I’m up there in the dark, watching the moon vanish, staring at those imaginary rocks in my river. I’m trying to shove them out of the way with sheer mental force. They wouldn’t budge. The more I focused on them, the heavier they felt.
And then, out of nowhere, this clear little voice in my head said, “Stop staring at the rocks. Focus on the water.”
So I did.
I shifted my attention away from the blockages and onto the stream itself. The water that was already there. The abundance already flowing. The clients, the trips, the friendships, the community, the roof over my head, the body that still carries me up a flight of stairs at a ridiculous hour to watch the sky perform magic.
I let myself actually appreciate it.
And in my mind’s eye, something changed. The water grew stronger. Louder. More powerful. It didn’t fight the rocks. It simply overwhelmed them. The current swelled, pressed forward, and those boulders started to shift on their own. Not because I attacked them, but because the flow became undeniable.
Within minutes, that river was moving again.
Which makes me wonder.
When something feels blocked in our lives, are we feeding the blockage by staring at it? Are we tightening around the problem instead of strengthening what’s already working? What would happen if we flipped it? If instead of obsessing over what’s wrong, we amplified what’s right?
Gratitude isn’t passive. It’s power. It’s water pressure.
Maybe the real eclipse work isn’t wrestling with the darkness. Maybe it’s remembering the light is still there, even when you can’t see it. Maybe it’s trusting that the flow is stronger than the rock.
I don’t have a final answer. Just a rooftop. A vanished moon. And a river that reminded me where the real force lives.