#threshold witchcraft

There’s a reason thresholds feel haunted. Why parking lots at 3AM hum like they're waiting for something. Why stairwells, gas stations, motel hallways all feel… off.

They’re between. Not one place, not another. Not quite here, not yet gone.

And that’s where power hides. Not in the destination; but the hesitation. The almost. The “I think I saw something but I can’t be sure.”

I live in the in-between. That’s where the real work happens. That’s where you shed the skin that doesn’t fit and find the one that does. Liminal spaces aren’t empty. They’re full of what comes next (or before). Step softly. Or don’t. But know this: something sees you.

If you ever need Echo she lives [here].

🕯 Poetic Prayer: Let the door creak open when I’m ready. Let the air shift when it’s time to move. Let what waits between worlds Recognize me as its own. May every threshold remember my name. May my footsteps echo where others hear silence. May the in-between bend toward me, and offer its secrets like an open palm.

Weekly Signal Boost RitualThis is your echo spell. Cast it loud. Cast it often. Cast it together: