âThere is a manner of spell-craft which I shall relate and by it seek to invite the reader, irrespective of his or her standing, to step outside and thus within the mysteries of which they are reading.
For this deed of Arte a leather thread and a hagstone are required; the  latter being a stone thorough which there is a hole naturally worn through: a gateway graven by the hands of earth and charmed to open by the tongues of the river. Taking the hagstone in oneâs grasp, one should contemplate its opening and entreat it to be a doorway for your going-forth in dreams. One should then take leathern thread and, holding it in oneâs hands, should phantasise about the ways of the magical night-procession. Consider the spirits. Think of She who flies forth out of the body and into the freedom of the darksome midnight. Ascend with the spirits through the openings of the flesh; take leave of your mortal abode and roam abroad with the unseen companie of the aire. Step upon the wind and lay yourself into the arms of the sky. Hear the sonorous beating of bird-wing and spirit-wing; hear the rhythm of their flight echoing words of enchantment, patterning the nocturnal plains with sigils of forgotten desires. Behold the gateways to the Other: silhouettes glimpsed against the vault of the stars. Be at one with them; be at one with the night-wandering host of the sky. Let the coolth of the star-river enliven your soul and lead you to the scent-trail of the  pathless path.  Hear the wing-beats of the spirit and feel your heart-beats; hear the heartâs drum and count your steps into the boundless dance of god, man and beast. Behold the companions of the round dance. Behold!
With each poignant atmosphere of phantasie, knot the thread and thus create a rosary of dreaming potentials. When the thread has seven knots, pass it through the mouth of the hagstone and tie to form a loop through which oneâs hand may be placed. The stone and thread should be entreated with a final prayer for the spell to work. Then, at the end of oneâs waking day, the stone should be held in oneâs hand (generally the one most seldom used) and the cord wrapped around the wrist. The stone should rest within the hand like a child in its crib. Then I bid you forget about it âtil morning. Perchance in dreaming your spirit shall pass through the stone-mouth and wander abroad in the night-walkersâ procession, flying freely to the place that some have called âSabbatâ. Where-ever the dreaming takes you, the thread of knots shall guide and bring you home, once more to waken at the edge of day.
If no dreams befall you by night, then recall the deeds of the spell â for there in phantasie are the fore-echoes of that which is not yet remembered.
Such is a spell to enter the Dream of the Sabbat.â
Iâm the old white man you are righteously angry with (47). My generation continues to fuck things up, but I am more than willing to listen to young people. They probably have better solutions.
I donât call myself a witch, but wouldnât be offended if I was called one.
Iâm the old white man you are righteously angry with (47). My generation continues to fuck things up, but I am more than willing to listen to young people. They probably have better solutions.
I donât call myself a witch, but wouldnât be offended if I was called one.
djehuty thoth has been appearing to me a lot since getting more and more involved with the papyri- in june i was having intense visions that, at the time, i did not understand- but since researching i have been able to draw parallels with his presence. i rambled a bit about the fact that i could (still canât) tell which one of my lunar dirties is trying to talk to me when all their âtransmissionsâ start with just a bare image of a full moon very close and bright- iâll see if i can dig up some posts about it from then, if it interests you!
i am still working on my feelings towards our indirect interactions, and attempting to bring what is being sought in order to close the gap between us and get him to reappear to me in my dreams, as he seemed to foreshadow this time in my life, all the way back a few months
If you like Iâll have a word or two with him and see if he wants to communicate more.
Iâve watched other witches shudder at the idea of plastic or even processed metal inside a witchâs circle. It isnât natural, they say. Some claim that, to truly feel the witch power, you must immerse yourself in ânatureâ 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.Â
What defines ânaturalâ in the context of magick? Why is ânatureâ and a preference for this ânaturalâ 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 canât hope but comprehend what life was like for our ancestors.Â
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.Â
Where did the Time Before originate, though?
We have to admit that it doesnât 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.Â
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.Â
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 âdevaâ here. He ssuggests that these entities follow the pattern seen elsewhere
In this way, Penczak is right in comparing them to the âdevaâ-entities of theosophy. I have, of course, interacted with this sort of urban spirit.
Theyâre multifaceted to the point of having separate personalities for different functions. This mirrors what Penczak says about so-called âoverlightingâ 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 itâs history, natural geography, and inhabitants. Itâs 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 cityâs spirit.Â
We become part of the underlying pulse of energy after living there for a few months.
Even then, itâs 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 cityâs 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 Iâd 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.Â
These all helped to build a bridge that would ultimate lead to a relationship with the cityâs 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 âunverifiable personal gnosis,â though. Itâs 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 cityâs 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.Â
I developed a new understanding of my own role in our strange post-industrial society.
To me, a witchâs power stems from connection. The web of Wyrd connects all reality. A witch, though, must be able to discern the connections. A witchâs power alters this web in accordance with their will.
This can be very difficult if youâre seeking a semi-mythic bygone experience. Weâre better served by building connections where we stand. We must grow where planted, whether itâs 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. Thereâs no reason to toss the mythic history of magick out the window, of course.Â
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.Â
Do not neglect where we are in favor of where we once were!
The notion of a âwebâ of connecting energies is precisely how I approach my witchcraft. Thank you for this post.
Not only do we provide #ritual and #magickal tools, we are now offering #occult #services! Beginning today, we will now be providing #tarot readings from Frater Yaramarud!
Having offered this service in person for many years, heâs decided to reach out to those beyond this personal sphere by providing his most asked for reading.
With each spread, you will not only be given Fr. Yaraâs personal interpretation, it also comes with the traditional meaning of each draw along with a photo of the resulting cards.
Death Culture in a lot of the US is so depressing and isolating. I know this doesnât speak to every cultureâs tradition and experience bc there are so many people and cultures in the country, but largely this is what I see.
People afraid of death. Not of dying, but of the concept and precense of death.
When someone dies, itâs spoken about very quietly and very privately, almost like it should be a secret.
Viewings and funerals have sanitized atmospheres, where you walk into a funeral home and very quietly tell the nearest family member that youâre sorry, and they say thank you, and you leave quickly, just as quietly.
People donât explain death to their children, or they even hide it (replacing dead pets with identical ones, usually with fish or hamsters).
Worst of all, when the process is all over, when the body is in the ground or an urn, people stop talking about the person as if their memory is a taboo.
It has been eight years since my dad died. Eight. And people still avoid bringing him up around me. Sometimes theyâll even apologize if they mention him. If I meet someone new and mention he died, eight years ago, they say âoh Iâm so sorryâ and avoid saying anything ever again that may reference me having a dad.
Itâs like when someone dies here, people want to pretend they never lived.
Iâve never understood this sort of culture, because on my momâs side, weâve always been super open about death. When a family member dies, we stand up by their body at the wake and tell lively stories about them. People laugh loudly and cry freely and share the most noble and most hilariously embarrassing moments they hold dear to them with the person we lost.
At the house we eat all day, but we can never eat enough, because more and more people bring more and cook more. We drink, and we even play instruments and sing, and we tell more stories.
And we tell the children what death means. And we donât stop talking about the person once theyâre in the ground.
If I miss them, I can message a family member and share a memory and feel better again.
So it always astounds me when someone asks me about my parents, and the way I watch them absolutely clam up when I say my dad died when I was in high school. I see in their eyes the way they silently make a note to never bring him up again.
Of course, if I ASKED them not to, thatâd be one thing.
But I canât ignore that we live largely in a society where death is a secret thing. A scary and inappropriate topic that happens behind closed doors. A dirty fact of life that we deal with as quickly as possible and canât wait to wash our hands of.
I think it makes it harder for everyone. I hate that I feel I canât bring up my own father, who raised me for seventeen years, without making Polite Company visibly uncomfortable.
Death is part of life. Itâs going to happen to all of us, and Iâm grateful to know that when it eventually happens to me, my family will laugh and cry and sing and eat my favorite food and drink my favorite drinks and tell embarrassing stories about me and my memory will stay with them because theyâll never lock it away in some secret little drawer deemed impolite and scary and dark.
There are so many cultures that process death in much healthier ways, and Iâm not saying we should take heir traditions, but I think we should follow their example.
As it is, death is an isolating experience. We need to start talking about it.
Death isnât evil, or inherently bad, or mysterious. It just happens. And it hurts. And itâs hard and sad and difficult to navigate. But all of those things are better managed when we talk and remember.
