Deep and Crisp and Even

The Snow Queen has spread her mantle over the hills.

Thick snow, piled deep on a silent world. A world of beauty, the soft, round drifts at odds with the harshness of bitter cold. No owl quavers, no fox screams. Only the tracks left in the snow betray signs of life.

I trust that under the snow, snowdrop, crocus and narcissus dream the first faint stirrings of spring. For now all is quiet, all is still, all is frozen.

I feed the birds. I watch the sky, praying for a thaw, waiting for the days to lengthen. The Snow Queen is beautiful, but she is without mercy.

Wishing the Arctic Well: A Spell of Healing and Transformation

Image ©Donald Engstrom-Reese 2010

My friend Donald Engstrom-Reese is inviting people to join him in a spell-working to support the Polar Bear and other inhabitants of the Arctic, who are threatened by the pressures on their unique eco-system.

For more information, please follow this link: http://web.me.com/iowariver/Walking_in_Beauty/Blog/Entries/2010/12/16_Wishing_the_Arctic_Well.html.

The spellworking officially began on the Winter Solstice, but you can join in at any time.

Many thanks for your help - and spread the word!

Peace & Yule Blessings.

ThriftWitch: The Clean Start Soap Spell

Do you know which kinds of spell I hate? The kind which say, 'On the full moon, take some powdered frankincense, a quartz crystal and three black feathers and place them in a velvet pouch. Go to a secluded place and bury them, whilst chanting: "Love be mine, love divine, come to me and we'll be fine". Walk away without looking back. You will meet your soulmate within a month.'.

I mean, huh? How does that work? Why would that work? (not to mention the godawful sub-greeting card rhymes that are inevitably integral to the process)

Actually, as a witch, I do very few spells. In my experience, it's usually way easier to take the mundane route to getting what you want than the magical. Like all those daft movies where the gorgeous teen witch absent-mindedly stirs her coffee by 'magic' rather than by hand? Or she floats or balances a pencil? Seriously, can you imagine how much psychic power it would take to do that? Why on earth doesn't she just stir the damn drink by hand and if she really has the power to effortlessly move objects with her mind, why isn't she using it to do something that's not utterly pointless?

Plus magic - like water or electricity - tends to take the path of least resistance, meaning that it's almost certain that the spell won't work out the way you planned. And believe me, that leaves plenty of scope for misfires, unforseen consequences and complications (yes, that was the older but wiser voice of experience speaking).

Even so, I think there are times to use magic, when appropriate. Sometimes the Universe needs a little nudge. More often than not, it's about re-setting our own psyches, moving the energy, opening up possibilities. Although I made up the the sample spell above, it's pretty typical of much of the stuff bandied about as 'magic'. And I don't for one minute believe 99.9% of those types of spell work, for one very good reason: your psyche wouldn't understand a word of it. The 'ingredients' used in a spell are there to tweak at your psyche, your subconscious (and perhaps thereby the collective unconscious or even the fabric of reality), but if your subconscious can't understand what's being said, that's where it'll end.

The ingredients are really just symbols, for symbols are the language of the subconscious (all the better of course, if those symbols seduce the subconscious with their colour, scent, taste, texture). Frankincense, quartz crystal and black feathers may mean one thing to the person creating the spell, but they may mean something completely different to you. Frankincense may mean 'higher spiritual connection' to the spell-originator, but to you - if you had a very oppressive religious upbringing for example - frankincense may speak to your subconscious of repression, guilt, fear, anger... not exactly the things you would want to be musing on (even subconsciously) whilst trying to conjure a soulmate. Some ingredients/symbols, such as rose petals for example, have such a widely accepted connection with love and pleasure, that it's no wonder they appear often in love spells. Yet how many people would have the same subconscious knowledge of the symbolism of yarrow, say, or thyme, or comfrey? Most likely they would all have different interpretations - and many may never have come across less common ingredients like yarrow before. No wonder our subconscious is bamboozled and the spell fails to work as planned.

The spells I like are grounded in reality (if it's possible to say that about a subject like magic). I like symbolic actions carried out mindfully, the kind of thing that says to my subconscious (and the Universe), "I am opening up space for the possibility of [insert desired outcome here] to happen."

For example, almost two years ago I wrote about vigorously cleaning the house on New Year's Eve and then spending New Year's Day focussing on the things I wanted to draw into my life, to change my luck after a horrible year in which my marriage had ended. Lo and behold, the new year did indeed change my life for the better as my heart began to heal, I achieved some long-cherished ambitions, and much to my surprise, fell in love again.

The Clean Start Soap Spell runs along similar lines. I have been doing this for the last couple of years, and although it originated in my desire to not waste things (soap!), in doing it mindfully, it has become an act of magic (which as Dion Fortune famously said, is after all, 'The art of changing consciousness at will').

The Clean Start Soap Spell

This is a spell I do over the course of a year, though  you could adapt it to a different time period to suit your own circumstances. I begin afresh on 1st January, and quite simply each time I get to the last sliver of a bar of soap throughout the year, I put it in a drawstring muslin bag on the bathroom shelf. Personally, I like to suit the soap to the season, so in winter I may have a warming cinnamon and orange scented one, then a floral for spring, maybe coconut for my summer holiday and vetivert or patchouli for autumn... As the year progresses the muslin bag fills with aromatic slivers that each bring back vivid scent-memories of the past months. And then, towards the end of December (I judge this by eye, depending how full the muslin bag is) I begin to use the muslin bag to wash myself in the shower instead of a fresh bar of soap. The idea is that as we approach the end of the year, I am re-visiting and integrating the experiences of the last 12 months. It's pretty effective, as of course scent is a great catalyst to memory. It is also symbolic of washing away the last vestiges of the old to make way for the new. The important thing is to time it so that the last of the soap dissolves away on New Year's Eve. And then of course, a carefully chosen, fresh new bar can be unwrapped on New Year's Day, and the spell begins for another cycle. You could of course choose a different start/end date, your birthday perhaps, or maybe Samhain or some other significant date. You could even choose a different time period than a year, perhaps stretching the process over a period of difficulty (such as medical treatment, a legal battle or time of emotional upheaval) so that you can finally wash it all away as the period comes to a close.

I also recommend the cleaning the house on New Year's Eve/mindfully choosing your activities on New Year's Day spell. It certainly starts the year on a good note!


P.S. I have to confess I am particularly fond of the soaps produced by Lush, although local West Wales company The Soap Shed have some delicious products too.

ThriftWitch

I can't help it. I just hate seeing anything going to waste. Perhaps it's the influence of grandparents who lived through the Great Depression of the 1930's followed by the austerity and rationing of the War years, and parents who were born just before the advent of the Second World War.

Both my Grandmothers were (and my Mum is) great advocates of making do and mending, preserving food during times of abundance to keep for the 'hard times', making inventive new meals from left overs, scraping every last smear of jam from the jar, squirrelling away safety pins and rubber bands and lengths of string; or scraps of ribbon or lace or fabric to 'make things over'. None of them would have dreamed of throwing away today's cold, leftover veg which could be transformed into tomorrow's bubble & squeak, or soup, or casserole. Each of them had a 'button box' to store buttons cut from old garments (themselves usually handed down, passed on, restyled or - if they were beyond redemption - used as rags). I used to love playing with the contents of the button boxes, sorting their shiny contents into colours, or shapes, or sizes.

Somewhere along the line, this behaviour rubbed off on me, and I too love being inventive with leftovers, I have my own stashes of pins, string, fabric and rubber bands, and even my own button box. I look hard at things before chucking them to see if they have a possible chance at re-use, and recycling has become second nature.

Sometimes that's a good thing. I can feel pretty good about my minimal contributions to landfill sites and my habit of only buying a replacement for something when it dies completely must have saved me quite a fair amount of money over the years. On the other hand it does also result in gluts of jams and chutneys, I'm usually at least 5 years out of date with gadgets (mobile phone the size of a house brick, anyone?), and well, yes, I am a terrible hoarder. With a cry of 'That will come in useful one day!' my cupboards (and drawers, and the outbuildings, and the garage) soon fill up, and it is oh so hard to contemplate throwing any of it away because, well - you never know when it might come in handy.

Like most things in life, there must be balance. It is one thing to save yourself money and save the planet from drowning in consumables, yet it is quite another to find yourself overwhelmed by boxes of 'stuff that might come in useful one day'. My own challenge seems to be in keeping the hoarding instinct under control. Now that T has removed all the things he wants from the house, I need to take a deep breath and start sorting out what is left into what is truly loved, needed and/or useful and that which is merely taking up space. I suspect the local charity shops will soon get very sick of seeing me arrive with yet another box of donations for them to re-home, and at some point I may even get really ruthless and make a trip or two to the local dump.

On the other hand, I don't want to totally lose the thrifty habit. It's good for my bank balance and it's good for the planet when I reduce, reuse, repair, repurpose, recycle. And I still love playing with the contents of the button box occasionally!

In these cash-strapped times, I thought it may even be useful to pass on a few thrifty ideas via the blog. These will be many and assorted, ranging from ideas for re-using things and materials, to recipes and even spells. I'll label each with the tag 'ThriftWitch' so you can find them easily.

My first ThriftWitch tip will be 'The Clean Start Soap Spell' appearing in the next day or so. Stay tuned!

Fog and Ice and Gratitude

A new skyline on this day of fog and ice. The world ends across the valley, distant hills erased by fog. Sounds speak of life continuing 'out there' - a barking dog, a tractor, jackdaws - yet my eyes tell me the world is much smaller today.

Sheet ice covers the ground, even the chickens are slipping and sliding around. I walk intently, bent like an old woman, testing each step before carefully chancing my weight on it.

Cold, damp air chills my bones.

Yet the house is warm, the fire is lit, and my love and the cats await me. I count my blessings.

Blatant Advertising!

OK, here's a blatant advert: it's cold outside and I have some lovely cosy knitted items in my Etsy shop (along with other tempting goodies). Go see! Thank you.

When is a Dead Frog Just a Dead Frog?

Detail from an altar at the Spiral Dance

A few years back, in the days leading up to my initiation, I was set a series of preparatory meditations and cleansing practices. One of these was to go to a local beach to cleanse and purify myself. As it was a particularly blustery day in March this turned out to be no gentle shoreline cleansing but a fierce sand-blasting by the elements. As I began the return journey, I was feeling positively scoured clean, and ready for the next stage. And then I saw them. First one, then another, then more and more. Dead frogs of all sizes, the corpses quite dried out and dessicated, were scattered along the pavement and in the gutter. Part of my mind was occupied with thoughts of the upcoming initiation, but part was bewildered. Why so many dead frogs, here, now? Had there been a plague of frogs in this small seaside village? Had they spawned and then met some grisly end? Poisoned by something? Run over? Frozen? Drowned? Can a frog drown? No one else seemed to have noticed. I walked on, puzzled.

Later, I checked on the lore and symbolism of frogs. They are creatures of earth and water (the two elements I resonate with most strongly). Due to their life cycle, from spawn to tadpole to frog, in many cultures they represent change and rebirth. Frogs seemed to be creatures I could have a connection to – and my eye was drawn back to the sentence about rebirth. In the days leading up to my initiation, a rite of passage symbolising the death of the old self and rebirth of the new, was it mere coincidence that an abundance of frogs – dead frogs – had crossed my path?


More recently, I was at my friend S’s house preparing, along with others, for the initiation of another friend. A couple of us were cleaning and tidying the space in readiness for the ritual, when we discovered the dessicated corpse of a frog under some shelves. We checked with S that it wasn’t a precious magical or ritual object (cue for many jokes about only having to ask such questions in a fellow Witch’s home!). It wasn’t – merely the hitherto undiscovered grisly relic of a hunting trip by S’s cat. Yet I noted the strange coincidence. Initiation. Dead frog, symbol of death and rebirth. Again.


My own initiation marked the onset of a period in my life where everything that could go wrong, went wrong. My health suffered, and I felt like for some reason I was out of step with the Universe. This period culminated in the end of my marriage, and a huge re-examination of my Self. And then, one evening last summer, just as I finally felt truly back in harmony with the Universe, another piece of frog magic occurred. Going out to shut the chickens away, something made me look up at the garden wall as I passed. There, at eye-level with me, was the biggest, healthiest looking frog I’ve ever seen. We regarded each other for a few seconds, until I quietly said, ‘Thank you.’ Then the frog jumped over the wall and disappeared.


I do think some part of me died and was reborn at my initiation. I think somehow, somewhere, my life had gone off-track without me even noticing. I think the Universe gave me gentle and some not-so-gentle signs and nudges to get me back on the right track. And I think the frogs - dead and alive - were part of that, a sign or message about the death and then rebirth of the self. Or at least a damn strange coincidence.


I have mentioned on this blog before now the notion of being predicted by the weather – the fact that sometimes, the weather seems to reflect our inner moods. Or are our inner moods subtly coloured by the weather without our realising it? The trouble with messages from the Universe is they can be so hard to spot in amongst ordinary day to day events. Another potential pitfall is that sometimes, we may be looking for a message when actually, there isn’t one. Sometimes a flat tyre may be telling us something profound about our journey through life. And sometimes it’s just a bloody nuisance. Sometimes, the Universe does have a message for us. But sometimes, shit just happens. The question is, when is a dead (or live) frog a message from the Universe? And when is a dead frog just a dead frog? How can we tell?



This is what I think. I think we live in an amazing and interactive Universe that speaks to us all the time. I think sometimes we hear, sometimes we don’t. Sometimes we misunderstand, or only hear what we want to. I didn't notice how out-of-tune my life had got - the Universe tried sending me gentle hints, then glaringly obvious symbolism (dead frogs) then finally had to whack me over the head with stress-related exhaustion, illness, misfortune and the end of my marriage. I can be a slow learner, but I got it in the end. How much simpler, though, if I'd been listening in the first place.


The trick is to hone our listening skills. Tune in. Listen carefully. Notice coincidence and serendipity when they occur. Use the divination methods that work for you. Ask Reya's useful question, 'If this was a dream, what would it mean?'. Trust your intuition, your gut instinct. Pay attention to your dreams. Don’t just listen for what you want – or expect – to hear. Remember to say please and thank you.


And most important of all, remember that sometimes, a dead frog is just a dead frog.