Witches & Magick- What Are You Brewing?

Witches & Magick

Witches & Magick- Hedge Witch

Hedge Witch is a bit difficult to define because what the term meant originally and what it means today is nowhere close to the same thing. To make matters more confusing, people who accept each meaning of the term currently practice and call themselves Hedge Witches. There are people who adhere to one meaning or the other and people who meld both practices together.

The first meaning of Hedge Witch was a Witch who lived outside the hedge. To understand why this was a radical notion, you must understand what the hedge was for 500 years ago- the hedge protected the village. Hedges defined the place where people lived. Not only did it mark property or community boundaries, the hedge was so thick it was an actual form of protection. You were safe inside the hedge. Wolves and bears couldn't go through the thick branches which were often woven together. An army or band of raiders could not quietly slip inside the village to rape and pillage. Everything was safe inside the hedge.

Which sort of made it like a prison as well.

Outside the hedge was the unknown. Dangerous animals roamed about. The outcasts lived beyond the hedge. All of the wild, untamed things that makes nature frightening was outside the hedge.

Which gave it absolute freedom.

The Witch needed to live outside the hedge so she could have access to plants not grown in the village. She needed the privacy to work her magick. And you could be certain that if anyone was brave enough to find her then they surely had a real need otherwise they wouldn't have trekked through uncertain territory to find her. The second meaning of Hedge Witch involves the spells she performed.

Hedge Witch is often called Hedge Rider. This refers to the person who walks between the worlds, the person who communicated with the dead, the gods, or the animals. All of which would have been re-enforced in the villager's mind as they fearfully walked through the dark forest to see the Witch.

The hedge is a between place. It separates the village from the wild, it had to be planted so it is not wild, yet people couldn't cross it. Hedges are filled with birds and other small animals. You can never completely see into a hedge. Something thrown into a hedge is probably lost forever.

There are people now who think of Hedge Witchery as being like Kitchen Witchery. Or they think of it as a form of 'green' Witchcraft (I'll talk about this more in a later post).

I can see the benefit of living away from the village. Modern Witches are often like this- we want to live in funky buildings away from everybody else. We like the wild, the abandoned, the lonely places. But where you live is not the only thing that defines a Hedge Witch because if it was then I would be one. Privet hedge has completely taken over the property I now live on. My husband and I both hate it. We cut large swatches of it every couple of months. We clear out huge sections of it and revel in our new found space. We're trying to take this neglected land and turn it into a home. If we wait too long before we cut the next swatch the privet hedge springs back up at an alarming rate.

I think Hedge Witch is the Witch who can cross any boundary she chooses. She's not limited by time or space or rules of society. And I think that's the real reason she was so feared. Nothing could contain her.

Witches & Magick- Stitch Witch

 

As far as I can tell, there is no set tradition of stitch witches. There are plenty of forms of needlework, and there are many trends in each form that gain popularity or experience revivals. But there is no coven of Witches who work mainly through stitches. The closest stitch witch comes to is Kitchen Witchery as, like cooking, sewing is a home-based task.





 

Nearly all forms of needlework readily lend themselves to magick and spells. It's easy to add magick while stitching. The work itself can be a spell.

 

No matter which form of sewing you prefer, no matter what your skill level, there is a pattern that could easily be used in magick.

 

You can weave, knit, crochet, quilt, embroider, and more.

 

Even the place where you create can be magickal. Who can look at a spinning wheel and NOT think of fairy tales?

 

This embroidered patch would make a great protection spell.

 

 

What if every diamond in this lone star quilt was a spell? What if every stitch was a spell? I don't think a nightmare could be had while sleeping under this quilt. How helpful would that be for someone dealing with stress or trauma?

 

 

I know quite a few Witches who use needlework for magick. All of them use spells that they invented, not a stitch spell that was taught to them. This may be why there is no stitch witch tradition- we Witches use what we need at the time. Because stitchery spells last for a very long time, there is rarely a need to repeat the spell. Sadly, not many of these stitch spells get written down. I think this is because we make things up as we go and due to the huge amount of work involved we're too busy to jot down notes. I'm trying to record what I do when performing a stitch spell. However, this is a lot of writing. All the usual rules of timing, color, and numerology applies, plus considerations about what materials to use, how the materials were prepped, the purpose of the spell, and all the elements needed (and that's not just earth, air, fire, water, that's why certain stitches are used, the skill level of the maker, time limitations, and what happened during the working such as running out of thread or encountering a problem such as frayed cloth once the piece is washed. Would that be a sign that your magick will unravel or that whatever you are working against is lessening?)

 

 

And I haven't even gotten to macramé and knot magick. I consider knot spells to be the most obvious form of stitch witchery, yet very few Witches seem to tie knots as spells. But knots are clearly present in our practices- we have hand fastening ceremonies and Witches' Ladders. So why isn't tying knots a part of our training? Boy scouts are better at this than we are. I would like to point out that macramé seems to be the form most likely to be destructive or to curse. I look at this globe knot and immediately think 'weapon'. I can see where there would be little cursing in stitch witchery because who wants to spend all that time working on something to give their enemy? I don't make quilts for people I don't like. That being said, I do see the benefit of placing a destructive spell on a family member. Someone you don't like, but can't really avoid or get rid of. A cursed quilt to that annoying in-law would be awesome and anyway, if you're making quilts for other members of the family, the in-law will wonder why you left them out.

 

 

This skeleton key has tatting added, proving that stitch spells do not need to be the whole work unto themselves. It also proves the magick can be added at any stage and in any degree. Perhaps only the beads were used for a spell and not the tatting stitches.

 

I'd really like to see more stitch spells. I've found one knot spell for healing. I think knots may be like veves. Veves are attached to particular loas but each loa may have a dozen different veves associated with it. Stitch spells evolve the way bind runes evolve; as needs change more runes are added or taken away.

 

In general, these are the rules I follow with stitch witchery:

1. Start fresh. Using a half-finished project for a spell rarely works out.

2. Do a reading BEFORE you begin. I like to use Tarot cards because this gives me very good clues about what colors to use, along with numerology and placement.

3. Sewing takes a long time. For spells, I strongly recommend using sewing techniques you are already familiar with. Using the project you are learning on as a spell nets half-hearted results.

4. Keep spell work separate from other projects. It really helps to have a special box to store the project when you can't work on it.

5. Keep in mind that stitch spells attract attention. Every single time I've done a stitch spell at least three people will ask if they can have it before I can give it to the intended recipient.  

6. Nothing ever goes as planned so if you think it's a three week project plan for 6 weeks.

7. It is nice to begin the same way each time you if you can. So sit in the same chair, say the same chant, burn the same color candle.

8. I use a crystal ball to add in magick to my sewing. After using the ball, things flow together nicely. If I forget to use the ball I end up making a mistake.

9. After completing a stitch spell clean up thoroughly. Put every thing away, organize supplies, and sharpen your scissors or cleanse your crochet hooks. Take a break before beginning your next project.

10. Number 9 brings up this question- should you enchant the supplies or just the finished work? If you enchant the supplies then every time you use the thread you add in past spells. For this reason I keep things vague if I enchant supplies or tools. Finished projects are where I add specific details.

11. When doing stitch spells sewing tools are just as sacred as magickal tools so treat and cleanse them the same way.

12. Become intuitive. While it is nice to have a set ritual, you will only grow by learning new skills and by looking at things differently.

13. Stitching is a lot of work but it should be something you enjoy. If it ever becomes a chore don't use it for magick or you'll add negative energy to your spell.

Witches & Magick- How the Bathroom Became a Magickal Place

This is a sort of Part 2 to yesterday's post about how I became a practicing Witch. I'll ramble a bit. The more I try to define my current practice, the more evidence I see of Crow- walking wherever, bobbing his head, stealing/borrowing bits of this and that, and no real logic to any of it as he does what he wants to do.

Being a single woman and a Witch is fairly easy. There's no one to question what I'm doing or why I collect certain items or why things are the way they are. Candles can burn nearly round the clock. Bottles aren't opened. No one reads your private journal.

Being a mother and a Witch is an entirely different matter. A frustrating matter. Actually, it's more a matter of what-the-fuck-is-a-matter-with-this-family situation.

I have four step-sons. The oldest two are grown. This does not mean that they need less. It merely means they are bigger than the youngest two. The youngest two have lots of problems. I've spent most of the time I've known them trying to set boundaries and rules and well, I've pretty much been a mother to them since we've met because they were in dire need of one. And they didn't just need a mom, they needed both parents. Yes, my husband was there, but in a limited way because during the first part of their lives he was working out of town. This means when he came come on weekends he didn't really want to be the 'mean' parent who enforced the rules. He really wanted to spoil his children. He wanted to make up for the five days when he was away. My biggest problem in the beginning was convincing my husband that the boys weren't babies anymore and it was okay to let them grow up and even better, it was okay to encourage them to do for themselves.

Once I moved in, the boys were finally able to dress themselves and tie their shoes (they were in first grade at the time). Then they were able to put toys away and put dirty clothes in laundry baskets. Next they started washing dishes. Then they learned to cook. Now we're trying to learn to think but as the older boys (20 & 19) haven't mastered thinking I'm pretty sure I'm fighting a losing battle. But I keep going because what else can I do?

The biggest problem I had with the boys was that they love to mess with things. I cannot tell you how many times they've turned off my alarm clock or reset the time. I didn't get any calls about my father being in the hospital because they played with my phone and turned the volume off. They played with the sewing machine, put the bobbin in upside down, and I was completely baffled as to why the machine wasn't sewing properly. I'm afraid to have live flame candles in this house so I hid all the lighters. We've had issues with the boys stealing, breaking things, and all sorts of things just 'disappearing'. This has been everything from money to car parts to bills to earrings. NOTHING can be left unattended.

The only thing I could really do was not allow the boys in some parts of the house. Our bedroom is strictly off limits unless a parent is present to supervise. This does not mean that items in the bedroom are safe. It means there has been a decrease in what disappears.

My mother-in-law says when the boys were crawling babies and they started to explore, she would watch them carefully when they were at her house. If one reached for something they shouldn't, she'd tell them no. If they kept reaching for it, she'd say 'no' louder. If they still went for it, she'd smack their hands and take the item away. The boys' mother thought this was a cruel thing to do and she was aghast that my mother-in-law smacked the baby's hand. I don't think the boys' biological mother was so much horrified by the smacking as she just didn't want to watch them. My mother-in-law stopped sewing when the boys were small because she got tired of the tension on her sewing machine being constantly adjusted. And then there were all the pins she kept finding on the floor. And she kept catching one child or the other with her sharp sewing scissors...

In this house, I can't leave a ritual circle set up for any length of time. The altar moved up to the top most part of the kitchen, as did the storage area for spell components. I need a step ladder to access either. This means I don't do much magick on weekends or in the evenings. My magickal time is between 7am and 3pm when the boys are in school. There aren't any workings for sunrise or sunset or midnight.

I go through the bedroom to get to the master bathroom. And inside the master bath is the master closet. You know, that's three- bedroom, bathroom, closet.

The closet is the secret ritual room. It's a big walk-in closet. I store my Tarot cards in my suitcase. I store the ritual cloth I use for meditating with my scarves. Before a working, I usually spend some time in the bathroom where I take a ritual bath, or at least wash my hands with lavender scented soap. When I use the breast pump, I sit in the bathroom because that's the only private place I have. I take my journal with me so I can reflect and consider various matters and usually I work out upcoming spells. It's much easier to cast a spell when I've already figured out what I'm going to do.

This means that my magick has become very, very simple. I'm mostly concerned with intent, placement, or the melding of magick with mundane. I don't carry spell pouches anymore, I enchant the spices I cook with. My family consumes the spell, I know they are affected almost immediately, and there is nothing left over to dispose of. It's a very efficient system.

Tomorrow- stitch witchery. Then I'll get into types of Witches, starting with Hedge Witches.

Witches & Magick- Why I Do What I Do

I say I was born a Witch and that's true. But I didn't become a practicing Witch until I was in my twenties. The potential was there, I just didn't know how to use it.

All my life, I never really fit in. I often had very vivid dreams about people I knew and those dreams would come true. I knew who was calling because the phone sounded different with each ring. My mother thought that was ridiculous, the phone's ringer is always the same no matter who calls. But she couldn't explain how I knew who was calling.

I have always loved fantasy stories. I have always been drawn to things that can't be real. I have always liked Witches, even the ugly, evil ones. One year in early October, my mother bought me a very thick activity book. She bought it because it was a Peanuts book and I loved it because it was Halloween related. It had all sorts of puzzles, word searches, cross word puzzles, and page after page of Snoopy waiting to be colored. I had it nearly done on Halloween night, but that didn't stop me from playing with it.

I carried that book everywhere. I became convinced that it was a very magickal book. I thought of it as my personal spell book. Sometimes I would open the book and whisper over it in an attempt to make things happen. Sometimes I saw only good things and I was sure all was right with the world. I pretended I could make things better, create good luck, and grant wishes.

Pages fell out, the cover got torn, and the spine cracked and spit out little bits of thick paper here and there. One day while I was at school my mother threw the book out. This did not stop me from being sure I could create good luck. I kept whispering and wishing.

When I was 21, I was friends with sisters. The oldest was 28 at the time and she had four children. She had left her abusive husband and moved back in with her mother. The middle sister was my age, and the youngest was 17. All 8 of them lived in a single wide trailer in a small trailer park. There was no room and no privacy.

The trailer was jammed packed with boxes because they couldn't afford a storage unit. There was a little shed meant to hold lawn equipment, and it was so full the door could be opened, but no one could actually walk inside. Every day, things got shifted around, broken, lost, or tossed out in anger.

The oldest didn't like living out of suitcases and boxes. She missed her things. Every day, she'd think of something she really wanted, and she'd send one of her younger sisters to the closet or the shed or the corner of the bedroom to find it. During one of these forays, the 17 year old found Scott Cunningham's The Truth About Witchcraft Today.

She just thought it was her sister's book. After all, when she knocked the box over, it was among the spilled contents. Intrigued, she read it. And reread it. Then wanted to try some of the things she had read about. So she took to carrying the book with her. Then she left it on the coffee table. So the oldest found the book and had pretty much the same reaction. And the oldest told the youngest, "I borrowed your book. This is really cool. Where'd you get it?"

She gave her a funny look. "That's your book."

"No, it isn't."

They argued about this for a while. The oldest said she had never seen it. The youngest insisted it had to be hers because it was on the floor with her things when the box got knocked over.

They never did figure out where the book came from.

That doesn't really matter. Maybe it really was magick, what we needed coming to us when we needed it. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe someone else left it in the house, though at first we had a hard time finding other Witches, so we don't know who could have bought it over. For a while it seemed like we were the only Witches in existence.

We tried really hard to do everything just right. We started paying attention to the moon. We searched the occult section of the bookstore and it wasn't long before we had read all the books. We didn't find much in the public library, they mainly had a couple of books on demons and devil worship and that wasn't what we wanted. Then we found Mr. Felix which was an occult shop. We had all the candles we could ever burn in every color. We learned about essential oils. We stared at the dried herbs, especially Devil's Shoe String, and wondered what it was for. The book selection was somewhere between the public library and the bookstore and when we went into the store asking Wiccan questions the owner would hush us and tell us what we should be doing instead. She was very into doing, not reading. She wasn't impressed with our rituals and Wiccan holidays. She didn't see any reason to wait for the 'right' moon phase. But she did sell us a lot of stuff, and she did try to answer our questions even though I'm sure most of what we asked seemed ridiculous to her.

At some point, I began to realize there are all kinds of magick. With my reading materials so lacking, I started exploring other schools of thought. I even considered the magick I saw in movies. Why couldn't it work? I'd ask myself. About this time, I rediscovered John Belairs. He wrote children's books. His main characters are a Witch and a Wizard. But what is most wonderful about those books is the fact that they are based on real magickal systems. I especially loved the one where they go back in time and meet the Pennsylvania  Dutch and Rose Rita almost 'reads herself fast' to a spell book with a demon waiting to chew her up. She gets out of the book by reading backwards. When she reads backwards all the way to the beginning, the demon is banished and the book bursts into flames.

And yes, I did find a warning in the PowWow studies about 'reading yourself fast'. It doesn't mean some evil being is going to eat you, it means that if you continue to read about curses then eventually it is all you will think about and you will become a slave to darkness, unable to enjoy life or function normally.

The more I thought about things, the more lines began to blur. I became less interested in doing rituals exactly right, and more interested in doing things I knew worked. I didn't really care if the thing I tried was Wiccan, HooDoo, PowWow, Celtic Magick, or whatever. I only wanted to know one thing- did it work?

Witches & Magick

Normally, on the first day of October I start my annual Witches and Magick posts. This year I'm doing something a bit different- I'm starting earlier on Mabon (first day of fall to you muggle folk). The reason being I usually run out of month before I run out of everything I want to say. Over the years I've posted pictures of Witches, pictures and instructions of various types of spells, and my own personal experiences with magickal systems. I thought this year I'd talk about what Witches do. Right off the bat I knew this would be a difficult subject to write about because no two Witches practice the same. Even if they're both the same kind of Witch. And that's a little tricky too, because us Witches borrow liberally. If we find something that works we tend to keep using it even if it doesn't fit into a neat little system. That's ok, I think that's why magick has survived through the ages- it's very adaptable.

I define a Witch as a person who does magick and has some connection with the supernatural. Many people would disagree with me. There are practitioners who don't call their kind of magick Witchcraft. There are some Witches who are freaked out by ghosts and spirits. Some people insist Witchcraft is a religion. I'm not a religious person. I rarely pray or ask for divine help.

I'm a Kitchen Witch. This doesn't mean that all my cooking are spells, though some dishes I make are purely for magickal purposes. Kitchen Witch means I make most of my tools, I try to align myself with the energies around me, and I am most focused on doing spells for my home, family, and self. I don't do much astral work or try to reach a higher level of consciousness through magick. I am not concerned with having spirits do my bidding. I do have a love for Tarot cards, Ouija boards, and crystal balls. These things are the supernatural part of my practice. Some people would say doing spells falls under supernatural. I think magick is a force not fully understood yet. Some people think magick isn't real, it is simply a mind game- you think it will work so it does. I don't really care why magick works, I'm just happy that it does. It's same thing as being given a sugar pill and being told it will cure a disease. If you feel better, what difference does it make?

Tomorrow, I'll talk about how I became a practicing Witch, how my practice has changed over the years, and why I call myself Kitchen Witch. Between now and October 31, I'll write about different kinds of Witches. There is no way I can name them all, so don't be offended if I miss some. I'm bound to miss a bunch. Also, don't take offense if I put something here that isn't normally considered Witchcraft. In order to understand, we must compare and contrast.  

The Way I Know My Grandmother Was a Witch

My mother saved my baby clothes and blankets. She waited 38 long years to give them back to me so I could give them to Gabrielle.

I have several baby blankets. That's mainly what I asked for when I sent out invitations to my baby shower- you can't have too many blankets and towels when you have a newborn. Babies spit up, diapers leak, babies get cold, you need blankets by the rocking chair, for the crib, for the bassinet, for the car seat. And never mind the fact that blankets get stepped on, dragged across the ground, forgotten in the car, and stolen by the dog.

I keep a stack of clean blankets in the baby's closet. These are the newer blankets that I use to cover the changing table. On the closet shelf are the old blankets that used to belong to me. The other day I needed a blanket because the house is slightly cooler with Mabon fast approaching. The new blankets didn't really appeal to me. The crocheted blankets seemed to heavy. I glanced up at the shelf. Something was different. There was a blue blanket on top. I could have sworn a pink blanket had been at the top of the stack.

The blue blanket seemed perfect. Flannel, but not bulky. I wrapped my little daughter up and she went right to sleep.

At 4am I sat in the rocking chair feeding her with the blanket draped over my thigh. Gradually, I became aware of how warm the blanket was. Like a little heater. Not too hot, just comfortably warm.

I looked at it carefully. Definitely Granny's work. Store-bought flannel neatly edged with hand stitches. And probably all kinds of spells whispered lovingly with each stitch.

I'll have an upcoming post about Stitch Witches so stay tuned.

What No One Ever Tells You About Breastfeeding

First of all, it doesn't come naturally. The first attempts do not seem to work at all.

To begin with, you are not producing milk, you are producing a thick, yellow substance called colostrum. It takes a few days for actual milk to come in. It's hard for the baby to get it out of your breast.

What the leche nurses tell all new mothers does NOT apply to each and every baby. They told me a newborn's stomach can only hold a marble sized amount of food. I'm sure that's true of 6 pound babies. My baby weighed 9 pounds at birth, she was delivered early by C-section, and she eagerly ate three ounces during her first feeding.

Breastfeeding hurts. What your lover does in bed and how the baby feeds is not the same feeling at all. It hurts if the baby doesn't latch on correctly. It hurts if you feed too long. It hurts if you try too much. And the nurses insist that you try as often as possible so that you will begin to produce more milk. It hurts because you aren't used to it. If you had a C-section, it will hurt when the baby kicks the incision across your very sore abdomen. After a while, you don't want to do it anymore.

I've been using a pump. The pump doesn't hurt as much. It is easier to see how much milk I'm making with the pump. I mix breast milk and formula together in a bottle for my baby. This works best for me. Despite the pump making life easier, it's still not an easy thing to do. I need privacy. I have none. I finally started being a bitch and sending people away. I know, I have a beautiful little girl and every one is fascinated with her. First girl born in my husband's family in 30 years. My first child. Everybody wants to see her, hold her, take her picture, bring her presents. But I need an empty house. All these people hovering around is disrupting the care of Gabrielle. So I sent everyone away, locked the house, refused to set foot outside, and all visits are now by appointment only. Deal with it.

I didn't get a good leche group. First while in the hospital, I was given some videos to watch. The first video was supposed to be five minutes long. After 10 very boring minutes in which my husband and I learned nothing we didn't already know, we gave up because we were bored and my dinner tray had arrived. Then I was moved to a different room and we forgot to take the other videos with us. The next time the leche nurse came around I was on drugs to lower my blood pressure and the drugs were making me sick as a dog so I paid absolutely no attention to what she told me. Someone could have been giving me winning lottery numbers and I wouldn't have cared enough to write it down. My husband wasn't paying any more attention than I was because he was worried about me and I was being moved to yet another room so he was trying to pack every thing up. The next time she came in, I'd had the baby. Because of my blood pressure and C-section, my baby spent her first night away from me. I was frantic to see my baby. I didn't care what anyone had to say about anything else. I had one thought- I WANT MY BABY. I was impatiently waiting for someone from the nursery to bring Gabrielle. Nothing else mattered. I tried to nurse her when she finally got to the room. The leche nurse criticized every thing I did. She also gave her very narrow minded opinion of various brands of breast pumps. She flat out told me Evenflo wasn't a good brand. The brand she was pushing was extremely expensive and I refused to use it because I wasn't going to chance my insurance not covering it and I would have to pay $600 out of pocket.

I tried for hours to nurse my baby. It didn't work. I kept trying. It still didn't work. Finally, at 1am a fat little Latino tech came in to test my blood sugar. She started telling me about how she thought she was losing her mind with her first child because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get that baby to nurse. She helped me and finally, finally, Gabby latched on and ate. I wanted to weep with relief. Unfortunately the relief didn't last long because I wasn't producing enough of anything to fill her up. The night shift nurse who had been tending babies forever came in and asked if I wanted to send my baby to the nursery so I could get so sleep. "No." I said. "There is no nursery to send her to when I go home. I have to figure this out now." I guess that was the right answer because she said she was proud of me for trying and she was going to bring me a bottle of formula so I could feed the baby. I said the baby's stomach couldn't hold much and she snorted and pointed out that a 9 pound baby eats a lot. She was right. I just accepted the wisdom of formula and I decided I really didn't like those leche bitches.