Life is complicated, even for a witch. It’s easy to think that magickal and spiritual people somehow have a secret key to unlocking a comfortable life, but we don’t. We deal with all the same stresses and life problems that anyone else does. What we hope is that our magick can serve as a tool to make these things a bit easier in troubling times.
So you’ve cast your spell. You’ve cleaned up your altar. You are psyched! You’re ready to see the results of your magick come rolling in. But now what? What should you do after the spell is cast to help you find success? That’s the question we have this month.
Finding your path as a witch can be a challenge. For most of us walking a magickal path is a choice. It’s a path that many of us consciously decided to pursue rather than being something we’re raised in. That means there’s a high chance you’re starting this journey after having been part of another religion or spiritual practice. That brings us to a question like the one we have this month which is actually quite common among newbies.
Lately I have felt the need to take “breaks” from being a spiritual person. When I am tuned in to intuition, trying to remain one with all that is, working on grounding myself with Mother Earth, remaining open to others while keeping myself protected, and otherwise just trying to be a force for the good, I get completely burned out, really fast.
I remember looking so far outside of myself for validation that I got turned inside out. My quest for fulfillment was one of pain and suffering. But the lows that the universe offered me were met with even greater highs, as soon as I learned that my power was always there, forever guiding me.
Several years ago, as I became a mom and was married to a man in the holiness religion (bad idea), I set aside my spiritual path (another bad idea). However, I have lately returned to my pagan path.
Growing up, Christmas was my second favorite holiday. My true favorite was, of course, Halloween. Was there ever any question that I was a witch? No, especially since I also saw and heard spirits and always seemed to know things I shouldn’t. It was just always there.
The history of beer is the history of man’s fascination with beer. An alchemical marvel, for ancient humans it was a craft steeped in mysticism and rooted in the old gods. Across cultures, brewed liquor was an elixir that warmed the bones and filled the belly, imbuing the drinker with good cheer and, at times, altered consciousness.
Brewed within the fertile darkness of these longest nights is the most potent medicine for the wild soul. Late Autumn is the annual witching hour, and the primal feminine in all of us longs for stillness, for solitude, and for the particular sustenance found only within the depths of the 13th Moon void.
I love working with altars. The act of building them is so meditative; it is remarkably healing to clarify your intention and charge the objects you’ve selected to represent those intentions. I like to teach that the altar is alive and serves as an ally in spiritual work.
Recently I was gifted a perfect single crow’s feather directly on my path, something that has never happened to me before. It felt significant. What does this mean?
My general approach to magic is to try and allow it to be simple and practical, and to unfold naturally. Honoring the ancestors, connecting with their magic, can be approached in much the same way as honoring and connecting with any other aspect of the craft.
Often when I begin teaching a new class at Witch School, the first question I ask my new students is “What is magic?” So, I think it’s the perfect question to kick off our monthly conversations. You can answer this for yourself by grabbing a pen and a pad of paper. Then sit down, close your eyes, and begin to follow your natural breath.