#witchy lessons

So you just got a new deck (hello, crow friends 👀). Here’s a simple way to bond with it and build that deep, intuitive connection:

1. Set the vibe.

Light a candle, play music, or sit in silence — whatever makes the space feel sacred to you.

2. Cleanse the deck.

Pass it through incense smoke, waft with a feather, or place a crystal on top. This clears away old energy so it’s fully yours.

3. Infuse your energy.

Hold the deck close to your chest or in both hands. Breathe into it. Shuffle slowly while focusing on your intention: “We’re going to learn each other.”

4. First draw.

Pull 1–3 cards with the question: “How will you and I work together?” Journal or meditate on what comes through — it’s your deck introducing itself.

5. Seal the bond.

Fan the cards, circle a crystal over them, or wrap the deck in cloth. Some people even sleep with the deck under their pillow for the first few nights. I even use moon water to sprinkle around my deck.

What Sidereal Astrology Is one of the two main systems for calculating zodiac signs, the other being tropical astrology, which is what most Western astrologers use. The main difference is how each system defines the starting point of the zodiac.

Tropical Astrology (Western System) is Anchored to Earth’s seasons, specifically the Spring Equinox, when the Sun enters Aries around March 21 each year. The zodiac signs stay fixed to these seasonal markers, so even though the constellations shift slowly over time (because of Earth’s wobble, called the precession of the equinoxes), the tropical zodiac doesn’t move with them. For example, In tropical astrology, the Sun enters Aries every March 21 no matter where the constellation Aries actually appears in the sky.

Then Sidereal Astrology (Vedic / Eastern System) is anchored to the actual constellations in the sky. It adjusts for the precession of the equinoxes, meaning the signs “drift backward” over time compared to the tropical system and currently by about 24°. This means if your tropical Sun is at 13° Leo, your sidereal Sun would likely be around 19° Cancer (roughly one sign earlier). Sidereal astrology is used mainly in Vedic (Indian) astrology and focuses on karma, dharma, and spiritual evolution.

The main differences are Tropical is based on the Earth and Sun relationship and the seasons. Sidereal is based on the Sun’s position against the fixed stars and constellations. Tropical signs don’t move and sidereal signs slowly drift to stay aligned with the sky.

A tropical reading shows who you are in this lifetime. Your personality, psychology, and current growth themes. A sidereal reading shows your soul’s eternal blueprint. The karmic lessons, soul patterns, and why you incarnated.

When we talk about eclipses, we’re really talking about New and Full Moons aligned with the lunar nodes. That’s what makes them “fated.” The nodes (North Node + South Node) are like cosmic highways, pulling events into alignment with our collective and personal destinies.

🌕 Lunar Eclipses (Full Moon with the Nodes)

• Astrology: the Earth sits between Sun and Moon, shadowing the Moon.

• Meaning: culminations, revelations, endings. They show us what has run its course.

• When conjunct the Sun: this sharpens identity themes. Old self-images, ego constructs, or roles we’ve outgrown come to light. Think: “this version of me is expiring, and I have to let it go.”

🌑 Solar Eclipses (New Moon with the Nodes)

• Astrology: the Moon passes between Earth + Sun, shadowing the Sun.

• Meaning: beginnings, resets, fate stepping in. But these seeds sprout on a timeline we don’t fully control. Solar eclipses often redirect us suddenly toward what is aligned.

• When tightly conjunct the Sun: the Sun (our core essence) gets “eclipsed,” making space for the Moon (our intuition, emotional body) to guide. It’s about trusting the unseen over the obvious.

September 2025 Eclipse Pair

Sept 7: Total Lunar Eclipse in Pisces (Blood Moon)

• Conjunct the Sun in Virgo, sitting across the Pisces/Virgo nodal axis.

• Pisces lunar eclipse = emotional tides, spiritual awakening, release of illusions.

• Virgo Sun opposite = daily life, order, health, routines. This eclipse says: where is my need for control getting in the way of my healing?

Sep 21: Partial Solar Eclipse in Virgo

• A new Virgo Moon conjunct the Sun = practical reset.

• Virgo themes: habits, health, service, discernment.

• Anchors the emotional releases of Pisces into actual steps—cleaner routines, new systems, grounded rituals.

The Bigger Picture

I’ve been told before that because I practice manifestation instead of worshiping gods, goddesses, or entities, that I’m “just spiritual” and not a witch.

But here’s the thing:

Manifestation is witchcraft.

Intention, energy, and action = spellwork. Whether that looks like lighting a candle, brewing herbs, journaling, or visualizing, it’s all the same current of magic.

I don’t worship any higher beings. I don’t put gods, goddesses, or entities above myself. My path is about sovereignty, no hierarchy, no pedestal. Just me, the energy around me, and the way I choose to work with it.

🌙 Witchcraft is a practice.

🌿 Paganism is a religion.

You can be one, both, or neither.

I use herbs, crystals, tarot, astrology, journaling, manifestation, all of it. That is my craft. And it’s valid.

So no, I’m not “just spiritual.” I’m a witch. A witch of sovereignty, intention, and manifestation.

Once it ebbed, I felt... empowered. A rush. Like I was who I was in high school, before I even believed She was real - but still felt a pull toward Her legends, and what She stood for. It’s made me realise that I’ve let myself be beat down by so many things, in recent years. And I highly doubt that all of it was intended to do such a thing. After all, those recent years are where I’ve learned the patience that I absolutely did not have as a teenager. And I do think that those were important lessons for me, or I would have given up on much larger things out of mere frustration. 

But somewhere in my learning patience I became a little bit of a push-over when it came to standing my ground for myself, and doing things for other people. I genuinely feel taken for granted, sometimes. Sure, they’re little things - like doing the dishes, or folding laundry... or making tea, when someone has a sore throat, even without them asking for it. I know they’re a big kid. I know they can do it themselves. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help.

Without the patience I’ve learned to have, I wouldn’t be able to look at a full sink of dirty dishes I didn’t use (knowing the washer is empty, and that I’d put a previous load in said washer, run it, and put the now clean dishes away) without screaming my head off and breaking something in anger. I wouldn’t be able to take care of what I now call “my” zoo by myself, without feeling some sort of resentment at someone else staking a claim to even a part of it. 

Though that is a little different. In that case, those little zoo animals are my babies. My children, and my step child. I can’t blame them for needing help to take care of themselves in a world that really isn’t even theirs. They never asked to be put in a cage. They don’t want to be stuck in a tiny studio, or a terrarium. That’s not what they were born for.