Maybe It’s Memory: Why You Love What You Love

You know those things that just click?

The way your shoulders drop when you’re in the garden.

The thrill of lighting a candle.

The urge to rearrange a room until it finally feels right.

Some of us cook like we were born in a royal kitchen.

Others write like the words are coming from somewhere they’ve already been.

I’ve always believed that the things we’re drawn to aren’t random. They’re reminders — echoes from before — the kind that hum quietly in your bones and make you say, I don’t know why, but I’ve always loved this.

Maybe it’s not just preference.

Maybe it’s memory.

I'm convinced I was "that witch" who collected ALL the petals for her apothecary jars.

What If Passion Is Cellular Memory?

There’s a phrase I adore: cellular memory.

It’s the idea that your body, energy, and even your spirit carry information from beyond this single lifetime.

You might call it intuition, déjà vu, or a soul habit — that instant familiarity with something you’ve technically never done before. It’s the feeling of finding your way through a new recipe like your hands already know the steps. Or standing in an apothecary and recognizing every herb on the shelf as if you’ve labeled those jars before.

Science may not be ready to print that theory in a textbook, but magic doesn’t wait for peer review. 😉

And honestly? It explains a lot.

Why we know what we love.

Why we gravitate toward certain colors, scents, textures, or tools — not because they’re trendy, but because they’re ours.

Maybe You’ve Been Here Before

Let’s play with this idea (just for fun...). If what fascinates you most comes from who you’ve been, what story might your soul be retelling?

If your kitchen feels like your cauldron...

You might’ve been the royal chef — feeding queens and spirits alike.

In every lifetime, you’ve known that food is more than sustenance; it’s ceremony. The sound of a simmering pot or the scent of baked apples feels holy because, in some distant time, it was.

So when you stir your soup clockwise and hum while you chop herbs — that’s your magic remembering itself.

If that kind of everyday ritual speaks to you, my Green Witch Mocktails offer the same mix of flavor and spellcraft — each drink a tiny act of alchemy.

If your shelves are lined with jars and herbs...

You were likely the village apothecary — the one who mixed remedies and gossip in equal measure.

Your hands have always known how to heal, whether through tinctures, teas, or touch. You read the language of plants without needing a dictionary. Maybe that’s why your stillroom (or kitchen, or bathroom cabinet) feels like sacred space.

(If this feels familiar, you’ll probably love my Green Witch Apothecary candles or Elemental Salts — each is crafted to help you reconnect with that healer’s wisdom.)

If your happiest days are dirt-under-the-nails days...

You were probably the flower farmer — The one who tended beauty as if it were a responsibility, not a luxury.

You know that growing things isn’t about control — it’s about trust. About showing up, watering, waiting, and knowing that life finds its own rhythm. Every bloom feels like an old friend, every seed a promise you’ve made before.

And maybe that’s why you can’t pass a farmers’ market without buying “just one more plant.” (No judgment here.)

If you want to explore the magic of growing, harvesting, and brewing, start with What is a Green Witch — a gentle guide to reconnecting with your green roots.

If you rearrange a room until it feels right...

You might’ve been the castle decorator — or maybe the hedge witch who turned caves into sanctuaries.

You sense energy through color, texture, and light. You understand that beauty is a kind of protection — it changes how we move, breathe, and rest. When your space feels harmonious, you do, too.

(And let’s be honest, you’re the reason everyone else’s home suddenly smells better after a visit. Possibly due to a well-placed room spray or diffuser.)

If words come through you like water through a stream...

You were likely the writer, the scribe, the keeper of what mattered.

Maybe you wrote by candlelight in another century. Maybe you chronicled the lives of queens or carried secret stories through wars and fires. Whatever your pen looked like then, it’s still in your hand now — disguised as a laptop or a journal.

You write because you have to. Because your soul’s been doing it for lifetimes.

If you’ve ever been told your presence is calming...

You’ve been the healer — The one who mended hearts as easily as you mended wounds.

Your magic isn’t loud. It’s in the listening, the stillness, the steady way you hold space for others. You remind people of peace they forgot they could feel.

Maybe that’s why you love lighting candles for others — or making tea, or simply sitting in silence together. You’ve always known that healing doesn’t have to be dramatic to be powerful.

If this is you, you’ll love the story behind Inner Peace, one of my Intention Candles crafted to restore balance through scent and energy.

When Fascination Feels Familiar

If you’ve ever thought, I don’t know why I love this so much, consider that maybe you do know — just not consciously.

Your soul remembers what felt like purpose. And that memory becomes fascination, then hobby, then passion. That’s how you find your way back.

So when you can’t explain why you’re obsessed with candlelight, or plants, or ancient stories — trust it. Those interests are breadcrumbs leading you toward who you’ve always been.

It’s not an accident. It’s a remembering.

Reclaiming the Familiar Magic

This is the part I love most about the Green Witch path: it’s not about becoming something new. It’s about returning — to your rhythms, your intuition, your hands, your senses.

Whether you light a candle to reset your energy, or blend herbs to clear your space, or plant seeds just to see them grow — you’re engaging in a form of remembrance. Magic isn’t about learning everything from scratch. It’s about saying, I remember how this feels.

So don’t question your obsessions too hard. The pull toward your craft, your kitchen, your garden, or your journal is ancient. Follow it.

Maybe It’s Not Random. Maybe It’s Remembrance.

The truth is, you don’t need a past life reading to know who you’ve been. You already show it — in the way you live, love, and create.

So if you feel most yourself when you’re stirring soup, arranging flowers, writing your heart out, or tending someone’s peace — maybe that’s exactly what you’ve always done.

And yes… you probably were the royal chef. Or the village apothecary. Or the witch who knew everyone’s business. 😉

A Quiet Invitation

Take a moment this week to notice what you’re naturally drawn to. What lights you up? What feels effortless? What do you lose time doing?

Those are your breadcrumbs — tiny glimmers from lifetimes past, asking you to bring that magic forward again.

Light your candle. Stir your tea. Pick up your pen.

You already know the way back.

Please visit my apothecary to find all the pretty tools you need to help you remember YOUR magic.