I’ve watched other witches shudder at the idea of plastic or even processed metal inside a witch’s circle. It isn’t natural, they say. Some claim that, to truly feel the witch power, you must immerse yourself in “nature” entirely.
You must eschew modern constructs. You can find the most powerful witches sitting beneath a tree in a forest, or meditating on mountaintop. So goes the prevailing wisdom of the 21st century Craft.
To me, such assertions raise more questions than they could ever hope to answer.
What defines “natural” in the context of magick? Why is “nature” and a preference for this “natural” ideal so important to so many of us? Most of us live in cities or suburbs. why do so many witches long for an almost pre-agrarian atmosphere for their magick?
The current is not unbroken. Even those of us who study history for a living can’t hope but comprehend what life was like for our ancestors.
Yet, we still have the concept of a pristine and supremely spiritual Time Before. We long to live unencumbered by modern concerns like taxes and WiFi.
Where did the Time Before originate, though?
We have to admit that it doesn’t originate in the files of historians. What we know about the life of the average person in pre-industrial society paints a grim picture.
If anything, the image of ancient paganism stems from the pastoral aesthetic. It owes more late Romantic period literature than anything earlier. In other words, it is a modern invention disconnected from the very era we see it as portraying.
It is clear that we have a habit of fetishizing mass-produced notions of nature and the past. This is to our detriment. Spirituality must be imminent in our actual environments.
This must include urban landscapes of pavement and steel.
We cannot ignore diffuse suburban sprawl that stretches as far as the eye can see.
We must not discount the deep rhythms of the cities we call home. More writing on the subject of urban witch power, flight, and spirit work would benefit us.
Cities do have spirits.
They exist in symbiosis with citizens, spaces and architecture, the land, water, and sky. In my view, city spirits are akin to the genius loci of the ancient world and the Faery faith.
They also have much in common with the more recent concept of egregores or group minds. You can view them as one or the other, or as an amalgamation of the two. I favor the latter perspective.
The notion of urban spirits is not without a colorful (though oft-ignored) history. The idea is present both in popular culture, and in certain occult traditions.
Christopher Penczak writes of urban spirits in his book, City Magick. He uses the term “deva” here. He ssuggests that these entities follow the pattern seen elsewhere
In this way, Penczak is right in comparing them to the “deva”-entities of theosophy. I have, of course, interacted with this sort of urban spirit.
They’re multifaceted to the point of having separate personalities for different functions. This mirrors what Penczak says about so-called “overlighting” spirits in an urban context. Like Russian nesting dolls, smaller functional spirits partake in the city spirit itself.
As is the case with many spirits, city spirits desire your efforts and attention. You must be willing to learn as much about the city as possible. This includes it’s history, natural geography, and inhabitants. It’s usually best to seek the city spirit through flight first. Then you can enact conjuration.
Of course, you must also make a proper introduction of yourself. Getting to know such a spirit can be a months-long working. In my experience, a witch naturally harmonizes with the city’s spirit.
We become part of the underlying pulse of energy after living there for a few months.
Even then, it’s necessary to signal to the spirit your intent to communicate. A reciprocal relationship must begin. City spirits, like many others, often respond well to offerings.
This can take many forms. It may include gifts (monetary or otherwise) that support the city’s interests. It can include actions like picking up litter and other improvements to the city proper.
The Krakow Working, as I like to call it, was one of the most intense magical experiences of my life so far. I performed it on the Summer Solstice of 2016.
I had relocated to Krakow in May after eloping with a Polish man I’d met on a Tarot forum online. My goal was, of course, contact and a reciprocal relationship with the spirit of the city of Krakow.
Preliminary research eats up a lot of time, but the more you know, the better. I began making small offerings with the intent of benefiting the city and its residents. My flights while in the city were into Byzantine, maze-like and shifting, landscapes.
I came to know the smaller spirits of the city first. There were the water spirits of the Vistula river. There were the egregores of the brooding communist-era apartment buildings.
These all helped to build a bridge that would ultimate lead to a relationship with the city’s spirit itself.
I realized that you can connect with these urban spirits through traditional symbols. Because of my flight experiences in Krakow, I will always consider that city to be female. I also experienced it as Saturnian, and thick with the active energies of Air and Fire.
These ideas are a bit of what you might call “unverifiable personal gnosis,” though. It’s likely that other witches might come to different conclusions. Still, I sought to connect with Krakow on my own terms, and, as spirits often do, she spoke to me in my own language.
I set aside a few hours each week in the month before the solstice for scrying. It was while scrying that first broke through and garnered the city’s attention.
After weeks of planning, at dawn on the Solstice began conjuration. I simplified the methods of the Lesser Key of Solomon as my template. I had received a sigil of the city while scrying, and found that she did indeed respond to it.
I made promises to the spirit of the city, and she made promises in return. That ritual on the Solstice irrevocably altered the way I view cities and spirits. She gave me a more nuanced awareness of my urban surroundings in a spiritual context.
Over that summer, my approach to witchcraft began to change. I stopped seeking some kind of (aesthetic) notion of natural purity in my practice. I began to connect with my environment in full.
I developed a new understanding of my own role in our strange post-industrial society.
To me, a witch’s power stems from connection. The web of Wyrd connects all reality. A witch, though, must be able to discern the connections. A witch’s power alters this web in accordance with their will.
This can be very difficult if you’re seeking a semi-mythic bygone experience. We’re better served by building connections where we stand. We must grow where planted, whether it’s city, suburb, or countryside.
We, as witches of the 21st century must be open to these experiences. We must allow interactions with urban spirits. How else can we connect with the city and suburb environments where so many of us live?
This means that a recontextualization of the agrarian witchcraft aesthetic is necessary. There’s no reason to toss the mythic history of magick out the window, of course.
But, we need to admit to ourselves that much of our fascination with the past is just a matter of aesthetics.
We must face the rustic image of witch power as an aesthetic choice, not an innate reality. If we can do that, the door opens to many new and exciting magical possibilities.
Do not neglect where we are in favor of where we once were!
The notion of a “web” of connecting energies is precisely how I approach my witchcraft. Thank you for this post.