10. Magic - Curses
Curses are harmful or traumatic psychological forces and emotional inheritances that arise from our shared histories.
Curses, when narrowly understood as negative intentions deliberately directed at us by practitioners of harmful magic, may seem superstitious and irrelevant to modern life. However, such a basic view of curses teaches us to see them as rare supernatural events, and in so doing, overlooks the very real and often harmful or traumatic psychological forces and emotional inheritances that more regularly and consistently shape our individual, interpersonal and collective behaviour.
From an intersectional mystic perspective, curses are neither cast upon us individually nor deliberately, but are instead the inherited and experienced social, political, and economic conditions that produce damaging behavioural patterns in us and others. The ways in which we are socially positioned, and our respective locations in various social hierarchies and histories of age, family role, gender, race, class, sexuality, ability and more, may influence the curses to which we are exposed, in both number and intensity. Reframing curses in this way helps us to understand this exposure, over which we have minimal control, and develop habits that support us in being less reactive and more mindfully responsive. We can use our own personal magic and seek to interrupt them, reduce their influence, or otherwise transform them. This approach to understanding curses allows us to reduce self-blame while encouraging us to take responsibility for shifting these patterns through intentional action.
As a kind of damaging spell, cast at some point in history, shaping the conditions of our existence and the patterns of our perception, curses may stem from hurtful words, lessons learnt through harmful treatment, and trauma passed down through generations. We operate in the path and wake of these patterns, affecting our relationships with ourselves and others, until we come to understand and begin to transform them – a laborious and continual, but powerful and necessary, process of unlearning. This usually means developing perspectives that put things in new light, revealing the previously unseen or hidden sources, and thus deeper meanings, of our current experiences.
Curses can function as filters through which we intake information, lenses that cause us to see in ways that may be distorted or limiting. Such lenses will make some experiences appear larger or in sharper focus, while others seem smaller and fade into the background. In this way, patterns from the past can warp perspectives on the present. Thus, we must do the emotional work it takes to understand them so we can see issues more clearly and accurately, at the right size. The work of curse-breaking helps us to heal from the burdens of the past, grow in understanding and wisdom, and progress our spiritual development.
A few examples of commonly occurring patterns are examined below. Through dedicated processes of self-exploration - for example, by ‘tuning in’ and ‘tuning up’ as recommended in Chapter 9 - you may recognise the spectre of these curses, or similar ones, emerging at times in your own attitudes and/or that of others. If relevant, once acknowledged, you can practice techniques aimed at transforming them, some of which will be explored here. While each pattern takes a different form in each life, what they share is an origin in early wounds to our sense of self and belonging, and an ability to exploit the vulnerabilities of the human ego.
The ego, self-centred by nature for preservation, ceaselessly seeks recognition – and when it does not find it, may contort itself as a trauma response, normalising and enacting harmful behaviour towards self or others. The behaviours we find most challenging often represent someone's best attempt to protect themselves from further harm, even when those strategies cause suffering to themselves and others. These protective strategies may once have served us, but when they no longer align with our current needs and relationships, they deserve our consideration and loving attention.
While it is perfectly reasonable to place yourself at the centre of your own emotional universe, it is important to recognise everyone is doing this most of the time. As a result, more often than not the treatment you receive is a result of how people feel about themselves, rather than how they feel about you! Our patterns tend to reflect the way in which we have taken to heart the shames of the past and allowed them to fester, such that curses from our history shape our futures by convincing us of the discomfiting possibility of their false truths – that is, until we recognise what is happening, and gradually, in a sustained way, learn the skills to intervene.
The Pattern of Arrogance: Self-Protection Through Dominance
This pattern manifests as an inner vision that places a person at the centre of every situation, often feeling they must be the most important, right, or powerful person in any room. Those operating from this pattern may act as though they answer to no one, demand attention, centre their needs and interests, and want to be seen as correct at all times. They may derive comfort from being the topic of conversation, subject of admiration, or even conflict or criticism —anything that confirms their central position and sense of self-importance. This pattern often stems from early experiences of powerlessness, abandonment, or inadequacy that created a deep, usually unconscious fear of being vulnerable or insignificant, which can drive them to grandiose behaviours and self-aggrandising flights of fancy.
But cracks in their confident veneers are evident in their troubled relationships. While they may seem charming to newcomers, they often engage in temper tantrums in private and regularly burn bridges with successive sets of people. Contemporary trauma-informed understanding suggests that what we once labelled narcissistic behaviour often represents a dysfunctional attachment style—a protective strategy developed in response to early relational wounds. This perspective helps us see these patterns as adaptations to trauma rather than inherent character flaws.
The challenge with this pattern is that while it may provide temporary relief from underlying shame or fear, it often damages the relationships that could provide genuine healing. Those operating from this pattern may struggle with genuine intimacy, as vulnerability feels too dangerous. Their relationships may follow cycles of initial charm followed by control or emotional distance when others assert their own needs.
For those recognising this pattern in themselves, healing involves the courageous work of examining the wounds beneath the protective strategies. This means learning to tolerate vulnerability, developing genuine rather than defensive self-regard, and practicing seeing others as equally valuable and complex. Their partners, families and friends will doubtlessly have worked hard to satisfy their endless demands and otherwise made them the centre of their solar systems. Thus, new modes of relationship must form. They must respect boundaries set by the people they may have abused, genuinely apologise for past harms, and work to improve future relating. Professional therapeutic support is often essential, as these patterns typically formed in response to early, formative experiences. Due to the level of commitment this requires, and the challenging nature of this work, most do not attempt this path.
Those who have been wounded by people operating from this pattern have the equally challenging task of learning to see themselves through their own eyes and those of people who respect them, rather than those who abused them. They must place intentional psychic distance between themselves and the voices and opinions that traumatised them, put them down, controlled them and inhibited the growth of their independent senses of self. Over time, they must learn to trust their own perceptions and believe in their own worth. Creating and maintaining boundaries becomes essential, as does surrounding themselves with people who consistently demonstrate respect and care. Recovery often involves grieving the relationship they hoped for, while accepting the reality of what the other person is currently able to offer, and making decisions based on this new awareness.
The Pattern of Self-Pity: Worthlessness and Isolation
In this pattern, our inner landscape becomes a cold and distant place where we struggle to recognise love, support, or our own inherent worth. No matter the comfort of our lives or the people who care for us, this pattern causes us to minimise our blessings, overlook those who reach out to us, and attribute our pain to external circumstances rather than examining our own relationship with receiving care. This often manifests as rejecting compliments, seeking validation from unreliable sources, or becoming trapped in cycles of negative self-talk that demand constant reassurance from others. This requires streams of emotional labour from others who desire their contentment and happiness, often with no acknowledgement.
This pattern frequently develops in response to early experiences of neglect, criticism, or inconsistent care. When our fundamental need for unconditional love and acceptance isn't met consistently, we may internalise the belief that we are somehow unworthy of love. This becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy as we unconsciously push away the very connections that could heal these wounds. To transform this pattern, we can begin by gently but regularly taking inventory of the ways we are held by the web of life itself.
Self-pity is harpooned by the recognition that our entire existences are interdependent with people and other living beings without whom we would not have life at all, let alone the level of comfort we are able to access at any given time. We are surrounded by countless seen and unseen acts of care. Each of our ancestors’ lives were a mix of love, joy and struggle that made it possible for us to be here today. Were we not cared for as infants, we would not have survived to adolescence and adulthood. Yesterday, the gift of the sun and the earth helped to grow the produce that feeds us. Today, every item of food that we eat has been handled, somewhere along the supply chain, by other human hands whose ability to give their labour has enabled us to nourish ourselves. These are all forms of care and connection that make our current existence possible, the true value of which is always much larger than it seems from a single vantage point. Taking stock of this would help us to notice the many people and other beings, living and gone, whose daily labour during their lifetime enables us to be here.
Self-pity is a burden and should be released, so don’t hold it in, but don’t entertain it for too long either. Scream, cry, shout into a pillow or engage in vigorous movement, exercise, dancing, masturbation, or other form of physical release in order to loosen and expel the tension that builds up when we are feeling sorry for ourselves. Try to do this in a place where you will not be heard, for the self-pity curse feeds off worry, concern and fretful attention. Instead, attend to yourself and do not expect that someone else should or will pull you out of this.
That said, growing our awareness of connectedness is an antidote to self-pity. It is not about forcing gratitude or dismissing genuine pain, but about training our attention to include evidence of care alongside awareness of suffering. Notice and reach out to friends, consider who has loved us and who still does; who reaches out, even infrequently, simply to say hello. We cannot expect others to read our minds, but instead, practice clearly communicating our needs. There is no shame in asking for help – our friends and loved ones want to support us, so if you need advice, a listening ear or shoulder to lean on, do not hesitate to reach out. Just be clear about what it is you need, and practice placing limits on the time and energy you give and take for sharing and dissecting problems, before expressing your gratitude and moving on.
The Pattern of Bitterness: Accumulated Resentment
Without appropriate reflection, healing practices, and support for processing life's inevitable disappointments and traumas, pain can accumulate over time, creating a bitter taste in one’s mouth that affects all future experiences. People carrying this pattern have often endured genuine hurt but through a combination of their own choices and challenging circumstances, have not been able to process the pain.
While some bitter flavour is required for us to appreciate the sweet, a lingering bitterness taints perception to the extent that joy is unacceptable, goodness feels false, and others are always suspect. This creates a tragic situation where the very experiences that could restore us become tainted by protective cynicism. Bitterness may be all-encompassing, or about a single aspect of life, but it has the insidious habit of appearing at the worst times. It can hijack moments of potential joy or connection, disturbing the delicate emotional balance that allows us to experience and hold onto positivity despite the pressures of everyday life. This pattern brings suffering to the bitter person as well as to those around them, especially their loved ones, who want nothing more than for them to be happy.
The development of this pattern isn't simply a personal failing, but reflects the reality of living in systems that create ongoing trauma while providing inadequate support for healing. Transforming this pattern requires both individual and collective approaches. Individually, we can develop practices that help us process difficulties as they arise rather than allowing them to accumulate. This might include regular emotional release practices, seeking therapeutic support, or creating rituals that help us metabolise difficult experiences. Collectively, we can work to create communities that better support each other through inevitable struggles, recognising that preventing the build-up of resentment is often easier than trying to release years of accumulated pain.
Cooks know that the food catching on the bottom of the pan causes a bitterness that emanates through the whole dish. While we may not be able to rescue that particular meal, we can start afresh with the next one – this is a matter of intentionality and practicing healing techniques that allows us to process and move on, to embrace joy and to teach ourselves to let it last. We can learn to treat our emotional experiences with more attention and skill. When we notice bitterness arising, we can approach it with curiosity rather than judgment: What is this trying to tell us? What support do we need? How can we honour our pain while still remaining open to goodness?
The choice to deal with our bitterness, work through it, and prevent its build-up in our psyches, is a truly radical act.
Note: The patterns described here represent potential responses to trauma and adverse experiences. If you recognise yourself in these descriptions and find that these patterns are significantly impacting your relationships or quality of life, consider seeking support from a qualified mental health professional.
Further Reading
Deary, V. (2024) How We Break: Navigating the Wear and Tear of Living. London: Allen Lane.
De Gruy , J. (2017) Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome: America’s Legacy of Enduring Injury and Healing. Joy DeGruy Publications Inc.
Maté, G. (2018) In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction. London: Ebury.
Tawaab, N. G. (2021) Set Boundaries, Find Peace: A Guide to Reclaiming Yourself. Pikatus.