Hey, y’all. You can call me Banjee—a poet and linguist by passion, study and trade, and a witch by choice.
I’m a mid-to-late twenties, mixed (Black & white), nonbinary f*g in Florida. In my free time, I read plenty, sometimes write, and watch lots of anime, reality TV and movies. And I play Overwatch, but it pisses me off more often than not, so we don't speak of it.
This blog will be a mix of pretty pictures, witchy resources (some original, some reblogged) that I'm interested in [read: no beginner / baby witch posts], the occasional meme and personal ramblings. I do my best to tag resourceful posts accordingly, so if I post or reblog a spell, it’ll be categorized by both magical purpose and tradition—if applicable.
Mostly here just to interact with the magical folk of the world.
Tag index and more about my practice below the cut :)
About my Craft
I began practicing in 2013, and there have been plenty of hiatuses over the years. But I always find myself coming back to witchcraft because it brings me joy and complements my faith.
I do a lot of blessing, protection and weather work and like to mix magic with the mundane. The bulk of what I do operates within the Energy and Chaos Models, but I have recently begun trying to learn how to do my conjure under the Spirit Model.
Over the years I have been growing closer to and learning more about the magics of where I'm from while also incorporating the faith I was raised in. As such, Hoodoo and Appalachian Folk Magic have come to heavily inform my practice, and I end up doing a lot of Bible conjure.
That said, my practice is quite blended. My Craft and I are always evolving. I make do with what I have to get me what I need.
Otherwise, I also do some divination. The methods most intuitive to me are smoke scrying, candle watching (specifically during/right after the spellwork) and good old-fashioned bibliomancy.
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Treading the Veil: Graveyard Measuring, Soul Candles, & Beseeching the Dead in Ashkenazi Jewish Tradition
by Keziah Zibelmann
(citations, sources, and further reading can be found beneath this piece)
There is among the traditions of Ashkenazi Jewesses of Eastern Europe a custom steeped in symbolism, history, faith, and what some may deem superstition and magic — the practice of calling upon the spirits of the dead through feldmestn and keyver-mestn (cemetery and grave measuring), kneytlekh leygn (wick laying), and the making of neshome likht (soul candles).
[Feldmesterins conducting a feldmestn ritual, photographed by S. Weissenberg; photo courtesy of HathiTrust]
These customs were once quite common, practiced by the most pious and righteous of Jewish women in their communities, but slowly faded from practice and memory throughout the course of the 20th century. The traditions, however, are making a comeback, with various courses, articles, and podcasts focusing on these practices, as well as some Jewish community groups organizing rituals and workshops to perform these sacred traditions once more.
As to whether these rituals are considered as magic or religion (or even both), that is debated amongst those now learning about these traditions. It could be pointed out, though, that feldmestn and kneytlekh leygn can both be found in Nahum Stutchkoff’s Thesaurus of the Yiddish Language under kishef (magic).
Timing & Purpose:
Elul:
Cemetery and grave measuring were most commonly performed during the Jewish month of Elul, especially within the days just before Rosh Hashanah or during the eight days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur [1], and, some sources state, would have been carried out on Mondays and Thursdays [2]. It is believed that during the month of Elul, most particularly in the days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the veil between the world of the living and that of the dead is thinner, and that it is, therefore, easier to make contact with and call upon our ancestors and dearly departed.
The dead were called upon to bless and protect the living, to serve as intermediaries and messengers who could deliver the prayers of the living to the heavenly courts or to g-d, or to directly bless the living themselves, often through granting them their protection and guidance or blessing them with traits the deceased in question were known for. The blessings and aid sought were specified in the prayers recited.
In times of illness or danger:
Cemetery and grave measuring were also performed when a life was at risk, particularly during times of severe illness [3] (especially if a child had fallen dangerously ill), plague, or some other form of danger, such as during a high-risk pregnancy or birth. It was believed that one could call upon the dead to speak on their behalf to g-d, to either (depending on the nature of the prayer recited) invoke g-d's protection for whomever may require it or to, instead, protect those in need from g-d's wrath.
The tradition of going to the grave and petitioning the dead for help in the case of severe illness is touched upon in the memoirs of Rabbi Tuviah Gutman Rapoport (Yizker Bukh Koriv, 1955; trans. Annabel Gottfried Cohen) —
If someone’s child – G-d forbid – became unwell, one usually began by exorcising a ‘good eye’ (as an evil eye was called euphemistically). If that didn’t help, the feldsher (healer) was called (there was no doctor in Koriv at the time). If the healer’s remedies also didn’t help, people ran into the synagogue, said prayers and cried by the open ark, and if the situation – G-d forbid – really became very bad, they had to turn to the last resort – they ran to measure the cemetery.
To exorcise or return spirits to their rightful realm:
Some sources detail the feldmestn or keyver-mestn rituals as being one method of dealing with unwanted or angered spirits [4]. Particularly if one knew the identity of the spirit and could access their grave, it is believed that the custom of grave measuring and the recitation of prayers could be performed at the spirit’s grave, with the person using the prayer to attempt to coax the spirit to return to the realm of the dead. If the spirit was angry with or haunting the person in question, the prayers would have likely involved apologies and asking for forgiveness, in hopes that atoning for one’s wrongs would please the spirit.
Feldmestn, Keyver-Mestn, & Dead Thread:
Feldmestn – cemetery measuring – was a sacred tradition, one that was carried out, most usually, by very pious Jewish women. These women were ritualists known as feldmesterins, and they were seen as ‘keepers of an important connection between the living and the dead.’ (Gottfried, Annabel Cohen; the Forgotten Women’s Rituals of Yom Kippur, 2020) [5] Some sources depict this act of graveyard measuring and the subsequent custom of making soul candles as being connected to the mitzvah calling for women to kindle and keep Shabbat candles and festival lights, a belief that only further underscores the respectability of these traditions.
[Jewish cemetery in Eindhoven, Netherlands by Pascal Vugts]
The feldmesterins, it’s said, could be found near or in the cemeteries in the days of Elul, waiting with thread in hand to perform the feldmest and keyver-mestn rituals for anyone in need of them. Thread was required for these rituals, as this was the tool used to measure the cemetery or graves and, also, to make the wicks for the candles that followed the taking of these measurements. The thread used was known as “dead thread,” and was handmade by the ritualists. An incantation would be said over the thread whilst it was being made, though, thus far, no surviving text relaying the incantation used has been found. Dead thread served other uses as well, and could be worn around the ankles, neck, or wrists as a memorial object, or could be donated to the needy as an act of charity. Indeed, there was emphasis on using ritual objects such as the dead thread or the soul candles themselves to help others or perform good deeds, i.e. donating the thread (or, in some cases, linen that was used instead of thread) to the poor or donating the candles to be used to light the houses of study or worship.
When performing the feldmestn, at least two women were required, though some sources note that whomever requested the ritual may also walk the graveyard behind the feldmesterins reciting tkhines (Yiddish prayers) of their own as they went. The feldmestn was carried out starting from the graveyard’s entrance or boundary. There is some variation amongst sources as to how the ritual would be performed. One method calls for one person to remain at the cemetery’s entrance, holding in their hand the end of the ball of thread. The rest of the thread was carried by the other feldmesterin as they walked the graveyard’s perimeter. This person would unroll the ball of thread as they walked, reciting tkhines or singing traditional songs all the while. It is further specified in some sources that they would walk clockwise around the graveyard. When this person returned to where they started, meeting the person holding the other end of the thread once more, they would then cut the thread from the ball and tie the two ends of the thread together.
Per Rabbi Tuviah Gutman Rapoport’s memoirs (Yizker Bukh Koriv, 1955; trans. Annabel Gottfried Cohen) [3] —
Two women went to the cemetery fence. They had with them a very long thread (the thread could not be the kind used by tailors, but was that wool thread with which socks were mended. The thread had also been endowed with supernatural powers through an incantation).
When both women arrived at the cemetery edge, they stopped and took the big ball of thread out of one of their pockets. One of them took one end of the thread, held it firmly in her hand, and, in order to keep it strong and precise, tied it around her finger. The other woman started to walk around the edge of the cemetery with the thread in her hand and continued this way until the two women came together. Then they tied the two ends together, encircling the cemetery.
While tying the ends, they said the following prayer: Raboyne shel oylem, azoy vi mir beyde hobn getsoygn dem fodem mit undzer gantsn koyekh, un der fodem iz nisht ibergerisn gevorn, azoy zoln botl vern ale betze koykhes. Dem tayern kins lebn zol kholile nisht ibergerisn vern. (Master of the universe, since we both pulled the thread with all our power, and the thread was not broken, shall all evil powers come to naught. The dear child’s life shall not – G-d forbid – be cut short.)
Another method instead describes the two feldmesterin walking together around the graveyard whilst they took the measurements [3]. This was done by one of them holding the ball of thread, and the other holding the end of the thread in one hand and a bit of grass or earth from the graveyard in the other hand. They would walk together, side-by-side, and the person holding the ball of thread would slowly, steadily unravel the thread and pass it to their partner as they walked. Meanwhile, the other feldmesterin would accept the thread and then move that thread over, around, or through the hand that holds the grass or earth as they wind the thread back up into a second ball. The passing of the thread over the grass or earth from the graveyard seems to be linked to a belief that the earth or grass of the cemetery further strengthened or provided connection between the living and the dead as this ritual was worked. When the pair of feldmesterin have travelled the perimeter of the cemetery and made their return to the entrance they started from, the second ball, that which had been formed whilst walking and taking the measurements, is what will be used as the wick for the soul candles, and it is cut free from what remains of the first ball.
In both versions of this ritual, tkhines are recited or songs are sung while the feldmestn is carried out.
Keyver-mestn [2] — the measuring of a single grave — involved a slightly different method than what was used for feldmestn. Keyver-mestn could be performed with just one person. They would go to a specific grave, typically the grave of a recently departed or significant family member, loved one, or close friend of/to whomever the ritual was being carried out for. The ball of dead thread was taken to this grave, and the end of the thread was place on the ground at the upper right corner of the grave. The thread is then unrolled, moving around the grave and marking its perimeter. Once the thread has outlined the area of the whole grave, the thread should be cut at the point where the start and end of the thread would meet. This thread is then, as in the rituals for feldmestn used to make the wick for the soul candle.
[A feldmesterin performed the keyver-mestn ritual whilst the woman who requested the ritual stands at the grave and recited tkhines/prayers; photograph by S. Weissenberg; photo courtesy of HathiTrust]
Again, prayers are spoken whilst this work is performed. Typically, the prayers for keyver-mestn would take on a more personal tone, as one is praying to the spirit that they seek to invoke the protection or blessings of.
In both feldmestn and keyver-mestn, there is immense symbolic importance within the act of drawing the thread around the graveyard or grave, marking a boundary between the living and the dead [1], between these two realms; while simultaneously forging a deliberate connection between the living and the dead. This is done by walking the earth of the cemetery, by reciting prayers, by singing songs, by calling on the spirits, by physically going to a place steeped in death to be surrounded by the dead while acting on behalf of the living. This, again, highlights the importance the role of feldmesterin was within these communities, as these women ritualists played a significant and highly respected role in tending the veil and maintaining the boundary between life and death, the living and the dead.
Tkhines, Prayers, & Songs for Graveyard Measuring:
This tkhine [6] was recorded in Groyser Verterbukh fun der Yidisher Shrpakh (a dictionary of the Yiddish language; trans. by Annabel Gottfried Cohen):
Vi der fodem tsit zikh, azoy zol zikh tsien zayn lebn.
As the thread is extended, so shall (the sufferer’s) life be extended.
If the thread broke, this was recited:
Vi der fodem rayst ziky, azoy zol zikh opraysn zayn khoylas.
As the thread breaks, so shall (the sufferer’s) illness be broken.
A portion of a traditional song [1] for feldmestn from Pruzhany, Poland (recorded by A. Fayvushinsky; trans. by Annabel Gottfriend Cohen):
Kh’hob a mame, Tseytele
Far it neshome, a kneytele
Dreyt men dos fedeml shtark
Lang, lang.
I have a mama, Tsetele.
For her, a kneytele (candle wick)
The thread is spun, strong
Long, long.
A prayer used by Gitele di Gabete [3] when, while performing the keyver-mestn for child suffering severe illness, the thread snapped and broke (which was seen as a possible affirmation that the child in question would not recover and would, instead, die) — per Rabbi Tuviah Gutman Rapoport’s memoirs (trans. by Annabel Gottfried Cohen):
But Gitele — a skilled gabete with a sharp mind and an eloquent tongue — quickly thought of something on the spot, varying her prayer without skipping a beat: “Raboyne shel oylem! Azoy vi der fodem hot zikh ibergerisn, azoy zol ivergerisn bern dey beyzer gzardi’n!” (Master of the universe! Just as the thread was broken, shall the menacing decree of punishment also be broken!)
A tkhine to be used in the case of an epidemic [5] (trans. by Annabel Gottfried Cohen):
Zol keyner nit feln in undzer gvul.
Let no one be missing from our boundary.
(This was said to ensure that the protection and blessings of good health applied to the entire community).
A prayer for keyver-mestn [2] (recorded by S. Weissenberg in 1906 and translated by Annabel Gottfried Cohen):
Tayerer foter (muter un dos laykh), dayn tokhter (nomen) hot zikh matrikh geven tsu kumen tsu die un dayn keyver tsu mestn, zay-zhe zikh matriekh far it un it man un ite kinder far got tsu betn. Dermutikn zikh in dayn frierdiker libshaft un helf it (un azoy vayter)…
Dearest father (mother/grandparent etc.), your daughter (or granddaughter/friend/sibling/etc.) [name] has taken the trouble to come to you and to measure your grave. Take the trouble to pray to g-d for her and her husband and her children. Muster in yourself your earlier love and help her (etc.)…
Kneytlekh Leygn & Candle Making:
There are a few different candles associated with these rituals — neshome likht (soul candles; candles made in honor of the dead that would be lit on Yom Kippur or donated to the synagogue or school), lebedike likht (living candle, prepared by those who sought blessings for themselves or people in their lives), gezunte likht (healthy candle, it seems this applied to candles prepared when beseeching supernatural aid in the case of dangerous illness or risk of loss of life, or to candles made to ensure blessings of good health), and even candles made for ‘the Maccabee festival’ (khanike/chanukkah) [2].
The wicks were taken to the synagogue where the ritual of kneytlekh leygn [2] (the laying of wicks) would be performed. The threads were handed over to a likhtmakherin (a woman candle-maker), who took the threads and measured each of them ‘according to a previously indicated length’ (that is, the person who had commissioned the making of these candles would specify the height they wished the candle to stand at). As the ritual thread couldn’t be cut (each wick consisting of the entire, unbroken length of thread), this would sometimes involve the thread being doubled (or even tripled) over on itself.
Two candles were often made during this ritual — a candle far di gezente and a candle far di toyte (a candle for the healthy and a candle for the dead). Some sources note that the candle for the healthy would be made ‘longer and thicker’ [2] than the candle for the dead, likely to symbolize one’s hope for a long, good life. White threads would also be added, incorporated into the wick, when making candles for the living, which was to distinguish these candles from those intended for the dead. While the wicks are being made for the candles for living, it’s said that the customers would ‘speak directly to it,’ [1] specifying whom the candle was being made for and all of their wishes and the blessings they seek for that person.
When making the candle for the dead, the matriarchs and patriarchs of Judaism are named, along with the deceased loved ones for whom the candles are intended to call upon or burn in memory of. Neshome likht would be lit at the synagogue on Yom Kippur (if they weren’t donated to be used to light the houses of learning or worship beforehand). Lebedike likht were also lit on Yom Kippur, but they would be lit in the home by the woman of the house or the family matriarch. It was believed that doing this would bless the home with safety, protection, and happiness, as well as deter misfortune for the year to come.
If there were any remaining threads after the kneytlekh leygn, they could be used as wicks in the making of chanukkah cnadles.
The stumps and leftovers of the soul candles can also be used to invoke blessings and protection later on [7]. It’s noted, for example, in Marek Tuszewicki’s A Frog Under the Tongue that the stumps of soul candles could be used as havdole (Havdalah) candles [8], and that using these stumps is believed to bring good money in throughout the week.
Y.Y. Trunk writes of how they were used on the day of his mother’s wedding —
“Aunt Royze […] had brought from her home the remains of the melted down wax Yom Kippur candles, which she had been collecting for years. She now lit these soul-candle-pieces in the bride’s house. The candles smoked like chimneys. The sweet smell of wax filled the room. Grimacing and waving her hands as if blessing holiday candles, Grandmother Khaye and Aunt Royze said tkhines over the burning Yom Kippur wax, interspersed with incantation to protect the bride from the evil eye.” [9]
On the Importance of Remembering & Rekindling Our Traditions & Rituals:
I feel quite passionately about the study of our history and traditions like these, which are so rich with distinctly Jewish symbolism, folk belief, and faith, and I am so very grateful for people like Annabel Gottfried Cohen, who have dedicated so much time and effort to translating our written histories, archiving them, and sharing them with the world, providing essential information and education to people, like myself, who would otherwise have seen these traditions lost to time.
While there are those who would argue that these traditions are ‘too superstitious’ and don’t ‘fit’ with what they want to see from contemporary Judaism, I instead believe that we have lost so much of our culture and our beliefs to attempt to make Judaism smaller, more 'sensible', more palatable to the rest of the world, and I can understand why this was pursued throughout our history; but, oh, what a shame it would be to give up so much of ourselves in pursuit of being accepted by a world that has never and will never fully accept us as being like them. We will always be seen as being outside, so all that we sacrificed of our customs, lore, and beliefs was done in vain. Why, then, continue to limit ourselves and water ourselves down? Why continue to bury such beautiful and significant practices when we could instead revitalize them, perhaps even better connecting us with those ancestors who kept and kindled these customs in their lifetimes?
I would like to turn to Annabel Gottfried Cohen in closing this piece, for it seems fitting that the words of the woman without whom none of this would have been possible, see us off — “Rather than seeing these as magical practices that existed for centuries alongside Judaism, I would argue that these rituals are examples of the magical aspects of Judaism itself and of the huge transformations in Jewish practice that have taken place in just the last century. Demonstrating that the so-called disenchantment of the world and of Judaism with it was neither fast nor inevitable, these rituals are a reminder that the line between magic and religion has always been a thin one.”
SOURCES, CITATIONS, & FURTHER READING:
Note: This piece would never have been possible without the tireless work of translator and historian Annabel Gottfried Cohen; those, like Rabbi Tuviah Gutman Rapoport and anthropologist S. Weissenberg, who came before us and recorded our histories; and the Jewish educators, religious leaders, and organizers seeking to teach on and revitalize these traditions, such as Rabbi Noam Lerman, the Worker's Circle, and the Kohenet Priestess Institute. I am endlessly grateful for their dedication to preserving and educating about our history.
CITATIONS:
[1] Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024) Yom Kippur Cemetery/Grave Measuring and Soul Candle Making: A Ritual Guide [per Ritual Well: https://ritualwell.org/blog/cemetery-grave-measuring-and-soul-candle-making-a-ritual-guide/]
[2] Weissenberg, S. (1906) Das Feld-und das Kejwermessen from Mitteilungen zur jüdischen Volkskunde (pgs. 39-45) [https://www.jstor.org/journal/mittjudivolk]; trans. Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024) [https://pullingatthreads.com/2024/07/23/cemetery-and-grave-measuring/]
[4] Maimon, Solomon and Goldschmidt, A.Y. (1927) Shelomoh Maymons Lebensgeshikhte; trans. Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024) [https://pullingatthreads.com/2024/09/04/grave-measuring-to-assuage-an-angry-spirit-an-extract-from-salomon-maimons-memoirs/]
[5] Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2020) The Forgotten Women’s Rituals of Yom Kippur [per Vashti: https://vashtimedia.com/the-forgotten-womens-rituals-of-yom-kippur/]
[7] Joffe, Judah Achilles and Yudel, Mark (1961) Groyser ṿerṭerbukh fun der Yidisher shprakh [https://www.yiddishbookcenter.org/collections/yiddish-books/spb-nybc201084/joffe-judah-achilles-mark-groyser-verterbukh-fun-der-yidisher-shprakh-vol-1]
[8]Tuszewicki, Marek (2021) A Frog Under the Tongue: Jewish Folk Medicine in Eastern Europe; trans. Taylor-Kucia, Jessica
[9]Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024) “Shelooked one of the witches from Macbeth, but a folksy, Jewish version” – Soul Candle Magic from Y.Y. Trunk’s Poland [https://pullingatthreads.com/2024/07/28/she-looked-one-of-the-witches-from-macbeth-but-a-folksy-jewish-version-soul-candle-magic-from-y-y-trunks-poland/?ref=vashtimedia.com]
SOURCES & FURTHER READING:
A Frog Under the Tongue: Jewish Folk Medicine in Eastern Europe - Tuszewicki, Marek (2021)
Ashkenazi Folk Magic at the Threshold (podcast episode) - Kafrissen, Rokhl (2024)
A tkhine for making Yom Kippur soul candles - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024) [https://pullingatthreads.com/2024/07/29/a-tkhine-for-making-yom-kippur-soul-candles/]
Cemetery and Grave Measuring - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024)
Cemetery/Grave Measuring and Soul Candle Making: A Ritual Guide - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024) [https://ritualwell.org/blog/cemetery-grave-measuring-and-soul-candle-making-a-ritual-guide/]
Cemetery Measurers & Soul Candle Makers: feldmesterins and kneytlekh-leygerins - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024)
Der Groyser Verterbukh fun der Yidisher Shprakh - Joffe, Judas Achikles & Yudel, Mark (1961)
Gitele the pious gabete of Koriv - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024)
Grave measuring to assuage an angry spirit – an extract from Salomon’ Maimon’s memoirs - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024)
Making Soul Candles: a female-led Jewish ritual revived - Cohen, Annabel (2020) [https://forward.com/culture/455139/making-soul-candles-a-female-led-jewish-ritual-revived/]
Mitteilungen zur jüdischen Volkskunde - Weissenberg, S. (1906)
Petitioning the ancestors - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024)
Pinkes fun finf fartilikte kehiles - Fayvushinksy, A. (1958)
Pulling at Threads - https://pullingatthreads.com/
Songs and prayers for cemetery measuring (and what we can learn from them) - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2024)
Tkhine for candle making on Erev Yom Kippur - bat Tovim, Sarah (circa early 18th cent.) [https://opensiddur.org/prayers/lunisolar/days-of-judgement-new-year-days/yom-kippur/tkine-for-candlemaking-on-erev-yom-kippur-by-sarah-bat-tovim/]
The Forgotten Women's Rituals of Yom Kippur - Cohen, Annabel Gottfried (2020) [https://vashtimedia.com/the-forgotten-womens-rituals-of-yom-kippur/]
There are few particularly religious women in town … who also measure the cemetery. - Cohen, Annabel Gottfriend (2024)
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Sort of obvious, but I had to learn it (like everything else) the hard way. And as spooky season approaches and people may be revitalizing their practices after breaks, I want to say something that might end up saving a couple folks from a lot of frustration and heartbreak:
Just because it worked that way for you in the past, doesn't mean that's how it works for you now.
I mean this in a literal, making-stuff-happen with magic and sorcery way.
You guys have heard the adage that some spirit guides are with you for life, some for short periods, some for just one lesson, etc., right?
Well, the same can be said for sorcerous techniques.
I don't know if I just shed techniques like hermit crabs shed shells or what, but this happens to me a lot. Here's the kind of thing I mean:
You used to do readings with a specific little ritual involving a prayer and incense, but now that technique seems to produce incorrect readings. It feels flat and you can tell you're not connecting.
You used to be able to tie intent into knots and carry the thread around with you all day to conjure specific little occurrences, but now it barely seems to work and manifestation is spotty.
You used to be able to converse with spirits by going into a deep meditation, but now when you try you can hardly connect and it's like their messages are getting blotted out.
And I think sometimes when these things happen, people tend to process this with:
self-blame (I'm not a devoted enough witch, I brought this on myself!),
scapegoating spiritual allies (I used to pray to Hekate before divination but now my divination doesn't work, so Hekate must be mad at me), or
developing personal doubt (I used to think magic worked but now I can't replicate my own results).
When the reality is, if you're a magical snickity-snek and you've shed your skin, you might be slithering about in the soil trying to do the little old things that no longer fit the bigger, better you.
Sometimes this "shedding" is very obvious and we can feel and taste it. "Shedding" may come before, during, or after a period of intense personal transformation. It may come in a numinous moment when you hear a single phrase, or view a single image, that makes you become the Hanged Man and see reality in a whole new way.
But it can also happen without us really noticing it. I might put down my tarot cards for a couple months, pick them up again, and suddenly the ways I used to read don't work for me any more.
It's not because I'm a bad reader, or that the spirits have abandoned me, or that magic isn't real.
It's because what used to work for me doesn't any more, and now I just need to find new techniques.
So if you're trying to pick up what used to work and it just doesn't seem to be helping any more, consider that it's just like outgrowing an old set of clothes. Nothing is wrong with you, or the clothes. It just doesn't fit any more.
Since I think it'd be frustrating as hell to read a post like this without some actionable steps, below the cut are some ideas that might help you develop new techniques if your old ones seem to be failing you.
Start with your beliefs
Examine your own rituals and see if what you're doing still matches what you believe. Let's say you used to pray to Hekate and light incense before divination, but now you do that and your divination doesn't work.
Do you believe Hekate is allowing your divination to be possible? Do you believe she's the best goddess to seek aide from at this time?
What role does the incense play? Is it an offering to Hekate? Is it to feed the ancestors who supply you with interpretations? Is it just to set the correct tone and atmosphere?
Maybe you've grown in your relationship with divinity, and you now believe it's more proper to call on gods with formal prayers - but your divination ritual still uses a simple, improvised prayer.
Maybe your understanding of Hekate has changed and it feels more suitable to call on different powers.
Maybe you feel strangely about constantly "paying" gods to help you, when they say they don't need it - and lighting the incense makes you feel awkward.
Change what you're doing to match what you believe. That's always a solid first step.
Examine your own emotions and reactions
Try performing rituals (from the smallest ritual of stirring intent into coffee, to full-blown compass-casting affairs under the full moon) mindfully.
Be aware of what you're doing as you do it, but also try to examine your own reactionary thoughts and feelings.
Suppose my ritual of stirring my coffee seven times clockwise to manifest a desired emotion doesn't work any more. It used to work great, for years, so I do it quickly. But now it doesn't work, so I do it mindfully.
And while I'm stirring, I watch a few thoughts pop up to the surface: why am I doing this seven times? I'm stirring my coffee for too long and staring into it like an idiot, and it's embarrassing. What if someone thinks I'm weird?
If any individual step of a ritual makes you feel embarrassed, stressed, or avoidant, or if you feel relief from not having to do that any more - that technique is probably not serving you very well.
Seek out methods that make you feel excited, hopeful, empowered, or interested. Or, at the very least, ones that don't make you feel bad.
Be open to shifting your paradigm entirely
Going back to the stirring coffee thing, maybe I think stirring seven times is too much. So I try to stir my coffee three times. But that still feels clunky.
Then I get into left-handed vs right-handed stirring, because someone might have said that doing stuff with your right hand is for blessings.
Then I try out a new little inner mantra while I stir X times with Y hand.
But it's just not working. No matter what I try, it feels like walking barefoot on a gravel road.
So maybe I just need to do something entirely different.
Maybe numerology isn't my thing any more. Maybe now, I just need to embrace my inner divine creator.
Maybe I should think about the ultimately powerful creative energy within rich, black soil - and as I pour my coffee, I can imagine that I'm pouring pure creative energy into my divine cauldron. When I sprinkle in a little sugar, I'm seasoning that creative power to my personal tastes - and no matter how many times I stir it, when I drink that creative power, a new reality blossoms from within me.
No numbers. No memorized chants. No left hand/right hand stuff. Just me, imagining myself as a planet, drinking pure creative energy that will bloom out of my aura as wildflowers bloom in the spring.
Ask for help
I'm not called fool for no reason, and after a couple years of being unable to astral travel - after having successfully done so for years - I finally sat down and asked my spirits for help.
The answer was immediate and simple. So simple, in fact, that I was confident it wouldn't work at all.
Well, of course it worked. I spent years trying to figure out the problem on my own, trying time and time again to use an old technique that I was confident would work. It took a goddess like four seconds to tell me the new way it worked for me.
Even if you're not in communication with spiritual allies, you can still perform divination to help troubleshoot your own magical skills. Try asking a series of questions: what doesn't work for you any more, what you should try, and what you should avoid trying.
When divining, consider the different "levels" of application. A reading that means "don't use excessive force" might refer to high-level life stuff, like, you're working too hard on all your responsibilities right now, learn to relax and the magic will come. But, it might also be referring to something very specific, like, you're trying to raise huge amounts of energy in individual rituals, break them up into smaller spells where much less force is required for each one.
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Sufficiently advanced witchcraft is chores: longform (it's not actually about hearth/domestic magic)
This little post has gotten some notes and now there's an ask so I'll make it into more words:
Witchcraft isn't Chores vs. Fun. It's Chores vs. Events. And I posit to you that framing witchcraft as Chores is healthier, easier, better, and more pervasive than framing it as Events.
I've found that if you want Witchcraft to have a profound, transformative effect on your life, to get you out of the bad places and into the good places - then you must discard that mindset that any instance of working magic must be spectacular, mystical, or even motivated. Basically, you must stop treating witchcraft like it's supposed to be an Event.
When you plug into your currents, they release a stream of transformative power into your life. But this power is fleeting and only lingers like a perfume even after the actual burst of power has long evaporated in your life.
I mean this "plugging in" to be very practical, normal stuff: raising energy to cast a spell. Close communion with your spirits where the spirit world is drawn into an overlapping state with the material world. Any time you open up a doorway in your life to the magical Other and let power in.
Like turning on the garden hose, these actions pour a little power into your life. But when the rite is done (the spell is over, the communion is finished) then the garden hose is turned off again. That power soaks into where it was directed, seeping into the soils of your life.
And then it's gone!
Once that power has soaked into your life, it will continue to be helpful and effective. That garden bed is watered now! So of course the plants will flourish all week (or in my climate, until late afternoon, lol!).
But that power is now absent from you!! It's already used up, it's gone. It is no longer available.
By the time the plants begin looking dehydrated, the original power may have already been gone for a very long time. But this tricks us, right: if we wait for signs that the power is fading, that means we're always waiting for the plants to wither before we tend to them.
This creates the dastardly spiral:
My life is chaotic, I struggle to cast a spell to help -> I finally get around to it, the spell helps my life -> Now that the magic is done I don't need to prioritize it until I need it again -> The spell has faded, my life is back to its original chaotic state -> I need magic to help me -> My life is chaotic, I struggle to cast a spell to help
(Above, replace chaotic with stagnant, a slog, draining me, exhausting, harrowing, or anything you like)
If engaging with the Other is like turning on a garden hose of power, then you have to turn on the garden hose as often as you need power, and you need it before things show signs of going bad.
The problem with framing witchcraft as an Event is that it creates this mental load that's nothing but a barrier to entry. You have to put on you Sunday best, have the right attitude, have the right mental health, have enough energy (but not be manic), have complete control over your thoughts but also be perfectly in tune with your body and emotions, be able to sit still for the elaborate working (but not be fatigued), be able to do all of this with complete privacy, and pull all of this together on a random hour on a Tuesday with a spell you had to modify because you can't light candles or incense in your home.
And god FUCKING help you if you can't feel the energies, or don't get the visions or the signs, if the candle omen isn't right, if you don't feel magical, because that means of the two or three times you engaged in your practice this month a HALF or a THIRD of those engagements were failures, you're getting a D or an F in magic, failure magic. Who would ever want to engage in a practice like that??
Nobody!
Of course you can't pull that shit together to constantly cast spells to make your life better! That's EXHAUSTING!!
Do you know what I think takes less energy, is less frustrating, is less exhausting, is more helpful, easier, and more transformative?
It's to stop treating witchcraft like an Event and start treating it as Chores you just go about and put a bit of energy to on a daily or near-daily basis.
At first, this is no fun and games: this garden bed has gone totally rotten, it needs weeding and tilling, it needs soil amendments. Exhausting labor. And then it must rest until the correct season of planting. You can go out and do twenty minutes of work a day. But all that work and it may seem that there are very few rewards for months and months.
But you can't take one weekend and make an Event out of it, and then ignore it all winter until it's completely overgrown and ruined again. You can't progress that way. This is like saying you only do the kitchen dishes on solstices, or you only brush your teeth on full moons. That's not how you have a supply of clean dishes, or good dental hygiene, or a thriving life.
Truly transformative Witchcraft must be steeped into your daily life, and the only way to do this is to engage with it daily or almost daily. There is no room for waiting until you're in the "right headspace," and it's no good to wait until things have already started to go wrong again.
But how can you tell when it's time to work the next bit of magic unless you're checking in regularly? And how can you check in regularly if engaging in magic gives you the same feeling as having to go get ready for your partner's corporate Christmas party at the Marriott?
The question isn't if magic is either fun or a bore. It's whether magic is something you are comfortable approaching and addressing in your everyday life, in the 5 minutes you have before you take the kids to school, at the red lights during rush hour, as part of your shower routine. Or if it's something you need half a week to prepare yourself for, and another week to decompress from.
Can you tolerate tending to an altar for a couple of minutes a day, blurry-eyed, not feeling jack shit, not feeling magical or connected, knowing you will see long-term success, but limited short-term momentum? Or does magic scald you unless the immediate rewards are there to soothe you: the visions, the mystic trance, the instant omens, the short-term ripples in the pond?
I think one of these things is sustainable and the other is not. And so I think in order to stick with it long enough to progress beyond the early stages, then the following is perhaps tautologically true: