Frog Magic

Estivation, potions, and how to climb out of the mud of your own life

Dear reader,

I’m not sure how you feel about magic. I used to be a skeptic but the past few years have taught me to see that it’s everywhere.

Anyway, if you’ve been reading along you know that the past six months of my life have been disastrous. Right now, I’m the full-time single parent of an eight-year-old. We are both recovering from a lot of trauma. He’s tired. I’m tired. It’s really, really hard.

A few weeks ago, I was in a low moment when a friend reached out to pull some cards for me. I don’t know if you’ve ever had an internet friend that sends you sporadic tarot readings but it’s pretty awesome. (In fact, every random person that reaches out to say hello, how can I help? feels like a fucking blessing when you believe in magic.)

This friend pulled a few cards but the one that stuck was the reversed Frog card from an oracle deck that used to belong to her French aunt. Frog stands for cleansing and clearing, and in reverse it can mean that the querent feels waterlogged.

Reader, have you ever felt waterlogged? I have. I do. In fact, I’m not sure if there’s ever been a better term for what I am feeling right now. There is so much crying. Constant rain. Every step forward feels like walking through a pond.

Did you know that some frogs survive harsh climates by burying themselves in mud for months at a time? They slow down their heartrates and digestion and don’t move, sometimes for almost a year.

It occurs to me now that this is what I’m doing when I scroll the internet, let the dishes pile up, and fall asleep without brushing my teeth. I’m surviving by burying myself in mud. I am grateful that, like the frog, I know when to stop moving.  

Still, there comes a time in every frog’s life when they have to dig themselves out. When I got the frog card, I knew it was my time.

That night, I went to a friend’s house and in the back yard I heard hundreds of neighborhood frogs chirping. It felt (it was) magical.

The next day I went to one of my favorite books, Cunningham’s Dictionary of Magical Herbs, and I made myself a frog potion. I put in a sprig of rosemary from my front yard, some dried mint, and a bay leaf from my cupboard. I simmered these herbs in some water while I wrangled my child into bed, and then left it on while I watched TV and ate ice cream. Before bed I turned it off and left it covered on the stove.

In the morning, I squeezed a lemon in while my kid was watching Saturday morning cartoons. Then I got in the shower and washed my hair and body. After I was all clean, I took the potion and scrubbed myself with it. I hit all the important points, just to be sure: my crown, my third eye, my throat, my feet. I asked the universe to wash away everything that’s been keeping me stuck.

This is the truly magical part. I got out of the shower slowly, taking care to dry my body lovingly. When I opened the bathroom door, I was hit with the sound of frogs chirping on my son’s cartoon. Then the character said something like, I woke up this morning and I felt like a whole new person. This is how I knew that the potion was going to work.

That afternoon I went for my first run in months and there they were again, frogs chirping in the small pond by the trail.

After I did the spell, I felt amazing for at least a week. Then I got tired again. That’s the way that life (magic) works. There’s the spell, and then there’s all the work of living.

I might make that potion again soon. We’ll see.

Anyway, if there’s a lesson in this letter it’s that magic is everywhere. You, too, can make a frog potion, or any kind of potion really. If you believe in it, it’s likely to work for a while.

All my love,

Kate

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