Witchcraft for the Weekend

1. In every version of the myth, Medusa is born a human and Athena turns her into a monster

2. Hestia, goddess of the hearth and family, willingly gave up her place as the 12th Olympian to make room for Dionysus

3. Persephone chose Hades and wandered into the underworld of her own free will

4. Pandora didn’t know what was in her jar and unleashed evils on humanity by accident

5. During the voyage of the Argonauts the huntress Atalanta beat the hero Peleus the father of Achilles in a wrestling match

6. King Midas of Phrygia decided to give up his golden touch after turning his daughter to gold

#5 is the real one. You can find a reference to Atalanta wrestling Peleus at funeral games while on the journey of the Argo in The Library by Pseudo-Apollodorus.

This is an artistic depiction of the event from a piece of pottery currently being held in Staatlishe Museum Berlin.

Ovid invented the version where Medusa was originally a woman and Ovid hated most of the gods on principle. Also, he was Roman. The earliest versions of gorgon myths depict her and her sisters as being born as monsters.

There's no reference in ancient mythology to Hestia giving up her spot. In some regions she was one of the 12 Olympians, and in others Dionysus was on the list instead. The idea that she stepped down was invented by modern writers who like to have coherent logic in their stories.

Explained above. A bit of creative writing.

Pandora according to Hesiod was the first woman and perfectly aware of what was in her jar. She was created as part of the punishment for mankind. Human women didn't exist before Pandora according to Hesiod. But because Hesiod was misogynistic even by ancient Greek standards, writers and artists after the ancient Greek religion died out re-characterized her as stupid and curious rather than evil.

5. As explained above, real.

6. This version was invented by Nathaniel Hawthorne. In the original myth, Midas just got hungry. No Daughter involved.

'Well, let us start at once,' said he. 'Lock your door, and put the key in your pocket.'

- A Lost Paradise (The Lilac Fairy Book)

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Intent: To set your household wards when you lock your front door.

Materials:

Your front door key

Ideal Timing: Whenever you cast or refresh your household wards

A witchling once approached me with the following question: "How do household wards know when and when not to let people in?" My answer was simple: "You tell them the difference." This spell is one example of how to do just that. It works best when you are the homeowner, but as long as you call the place home, it should work.

Upon completion of your ritual for setting household protections, whatever that may be, take your house key and go to the front door. Place your dominant hand flat against the inside of the door, with the key between your palm and the door's surface.

Say in a strong clear voice:

This is my home And I hold the key; No one may enter Unless bidden by me.

If you feel the need, you can repeat this on other exterior doors for added security. Upon leaving your home, make sure you lock your doors and windows. The act of locking the front door from the outside with your key sets the wards until you return.

After you lock your front door, place your hand upon it and say, "No one but me." If someone else is to allowed in, include them as well, i.e. "No one but me or my spouse/roommate/parent/child/etc." Again, this will work best for people who actually live in the home, or whom you've given permission to be there in your absence.

Please note that this is not a foolproof method for deterring intruders. Take any and all mundane measures of security needed to ensure the safety of your home and its' occupants.

-from the forthcoming book, The Sisters Grimmoire, Vol. II; (c) 2021 Bree NicGarran

The Tower as a Sacred Principle

Across cultures, The Tower does not appear as an anomaly. It appears as a law.

Nearly every mythological system contains a figure that embodies destruction not as malice, but as necessity — a terrible, sacred function without which renewal is impossible.

Shiva destroys the universe so that Brahma may recreate it. Kali devours illusion, ego, and ignorance — ferocious, maternal, liberating. Sekhmet brings plague and war, yet also healing; her violence purges what has become diseased.

These figures are not evil. They are corrective.

In the domain of war and chaos, destruction appears as force. Ares embodies raw, unfiltered fury. Mars refines it into disciplined power. The Morrigan presides over the battlefield as fate itself, announcing sovereignty through collapse. Anat stands as devastation without apology.

In the underworld, dissolution becomes law. Hel governs decay as inevitability. Sedna’s wrath starves the world; her appeasement restores abundance. The Keres do not choose death — they enact it.

Even in primordial cosmologies, destruction is inseparable from creation. Coatlicue gives life and devours it in the same breath. Ahriman embodies disintegration itself — the antagonist that gives structure meaning through opposition.

In cyclical systems, destruction becomes rhythm. Crnobog balances the cosmic order through darkness. Batara Kala devours through time itself. Indra’s thunder does not annihilate — it restores order.

The Tower belongs to this lineage.

It is not a moral agent. It does not punish. It does not judge.

It enforces limits.

When a structure — psychological, spiritual, or societal — exceeds its capacity to remain alive, The Tower intervenes.

Not as cruelty. As correction.

To fear The Tower is to mistake attachment for truth. To reject it is to reject change itself.

The Tower does not end meaning. It ends rigidity.

Then the maiden and her dear Roland took again their natural shapes, and traveled on the whole night through until daybreak. Then the maiden changed herself into a beautiful flower, standing in the middle of a hedge of thorns, and her dear Roland into a fiddle-player. It was not long before the witch came striding up, and she said to the musician, "Dear musician, will you be so kind as to reach that pretty flower for me?” "Oh yes," said he, "I will strike up a tune to it." Then as she crept quickly up to the hedge to break off the flower, for she knew well who it was, he began to play, and whether she liked it or not, she was obliged to dance, for there was magic in the tune. The faster he played, the higher she had to jump, and the thorns tore her clothes, and scratched and wounded her, and he did not cease playing until she was spent, and lay dead.

-Sweetheart Roland, Grimm's Complete Fairy Tales

Intent: To protect yourself or a loved one from someone who means to do you harm.

Ideal Timing: Waning Moon

Materials:

Jar with Screw-top Lid

Pins, Needles, & Tacks

Palmful of Salt*

Poppet

To begin with, yes, this is a spell of protection. And yes, it is also a baneful spell. Two things can be true, and they are not incongruous. This particular model is a target-triggered spell, meaning that the effect of the spell will not activate unless the target of the spell completes a designated action. Thus, the activation of the spell is the consequence of their own actions.

Take your poppet and stuff the material focus, if there is one, into the chest cavity. If a focus is not available, you can use a name slip or name the poppet thus:

Poppet, I name you [Name]. Your limbs are their limbs, your flesh is their flesh. As you suffer, so shall they suffer, according to my will.

If the target is an unknown person, the poppet can be named Danger or Threat, but this spell generally works best with a proper name. You can also specify the actions which will trigger the activation of the spell, as well as the consequences that will arise when it does, or the harm to be undone by the spell.

In the jar, combine half of the pins with the salt.* Put the poppet inside on top of the pins, then pour the rest of the pins on top to form a loose cage. Whisper into the jar:

On your feet, it's time to dance; With the music, jump and prance.

Cap the jar and seal the lid tightly. Select a song with a good dancing beat and shake the jar to the beat for as long as you can. If you can make it through the whole song, do so; if not, shake for as long as you can. The idea is that as the poppet "dances," it is pierced by the pins in the jar.

Set the jar aside somewhere that it won't be disturbed. Whenever the target gives you trouble, take the jar out, turn on the music, and shake the poppet full of pins. If at any point you feel the target has learned their lesson, retrieve the poppet from the jar, take out any pins stuck into it, and remove the focus or dunk the poppet in saltwater overnight to neutralize the spell.

*Yes, I know that salt is generally used to protect, or to neutralize a spell. In this case, it's there to make the pinpricks hurt more. Feel free to substitute your favorite noxious herb or stinging spice if you don't wish to use salt in your jar.

-Adapted from The Sisters Grimmoire: Spells and Charms for Your Happily Ever After, (2nd ed) © 2017 Bree NicGarran

Want more fairy tale spells? Check out the masterpost here.

you're allowed to have quiet seasons. you're allowed to be tired. you're allowed to be mundane, and magical, and both at once.

your magic doesn’t disappear just because you’re not lighting candles every night. you're still a witch, even when the most you can manage is a cup of tea and a deep breath.

When I built my first altar, it looked like a sad thrift store shelf, mismatched candles, half-melted incense sticks, a chipped mug standing in for a chalice. I was so desperate for it to look witchy, like the glossy photos in books. But it didn’t feel like mine. It felt like a stranger’s stage.

It took me years, and many messy, candle-wax-soaked attempts, to realize: your altar isn’t an Instagram post. It’s a heartbeat. It’s your magic’s nest. It should feel like home, because it is one.

Here’s how I’ve learned to build an altar that breathes with you, one that feels like warm floors, familiar shadows, and the exact right hush of your spirit.

🕯️ 1. Know What An Altar Really Is

Strip away the fancy words: an altar is just a sacred spot. It’s where you gather your power and your gratitude in one place.

It can be as humble as a windowsill or as grand as a dedicated room. A shelf, a table, a box, all that matters is intention.

Think of it as a tiny crossroads: your body, your spirit, and your magic meet there. The rest is just trimmings.

🌿 2. Start With What Calls You

Forget the shopping list that says you must have a pentacle, a wand, a chalice, this and that.

Ask: what do you reach for when you feel witchiest? A candle that smells like your grandmother’s kitchen? A stone you found at the river? A jar of salt?

Your altar is not a museum. It’s a nest of meaning. Let it be ugly at first. Let it be real.

🔮 3. Give It a Heartbeat

I always tell baby witches: your altar’s alive if it changes with you.

Maybe you set it up on the floor for a spell, then move it to a shelf when you get a cat who loves knocking things over. Maybe you swap the flowers every season. Maybe you leave offerings that rot a little, because magic is not sterile.

Mine has bits of charred candle wicks, a cracked seashell, and a scrap of cloth from my mother’s apron. I clean it, but I don’t bleach it of history.

🗝️ 4. Make It a Conversation

An altar is not a monologue. You don’t just speak at it. You speak with it.

When you light a candle, linger. When you place a new object, ask it, “What do you bring here?” Listen. Maybe you rearrange things when they feel stale. Maybe you sleep with a stone under your pillow before giving it a spot on your altar, so it knows your dreams.

This is the bit the books forget to tell you: your altar listens back.

🌙 5. Protect It, But Don’t Police It

It’s good to cleanse your altar, blow off dust, pass smoke over it, ring a bell if it feels heavy.

But don’t let perfectionism be your deity. I once wasted hours agonizing over where to put a feather. It’s a feather, Nyra. Spirits don’t care if it’s center-left or right.

Your hands are sacred. Trust them.

🕸️ A Few Simple Ideas To Try

Place something that represents each element, but only if it feels real to you. A rock, a candle, a cup of water, a pinch of salt.

Add one thing that smells good. Scent ties your spirit to memory.

Leave an offering to your guides or ancestors, even if it’s just a whisper of thanks.

Keep a tiny cloth or broom nearby to sweep off old energy when needed.

🌒 A Final Whisper

Your altar is not a shrine to aesthetics, it’s a mirror for your spirit.

Build it slow. Let it shift. Let it hold your tears, your giggles, your burnt matches and hopeful wishes.

One day you’ll sit at that sacred little corner, a mug of tea in hand, and think: This is mine. And it will hum back: Yes. And I am yours.

Once drawn, a sigil sleeps. Charging is the act of waking it — giving it breath, direction, and momentum.

Ways to charge: • Focused breathwork • Candle flame gazing • Physical movement or exertion • Emotional release • Moonlight or sunlight • Sexual energy • Meditation or trance

Guideline: The charging method should match the nature of the intention. Protection likes fire. Healing likes water. Clarity likes air. Endings like smoke.

When charged, the sigil becomes alert — it will pull at your awareness until it is activated.

A short list of ways to divine using constellations and stars. [updated 11.15.25]

Draw or carve constellations or stars into stones and cast them as runes.

Assign various constellations or stars to certain crystals based on color or intent, put them in a bag, and cast them as runes.

Throw stones and interpret the pattern as an asterism or constellation.

While stargazing, take note of which constellations or asterisms catch your eye - what do they represent? Alternately, use a constellation lamp or globe to do the same with the images cast on your ceiling.

Count the stars in a chosen constellation and transform that number into a numerology reading.

Create a pendulum board using constellations or stars with varying meanings.

Divine using a celestial, starry themed cartomancy deck.

Use black, glittery water to represent the night sky and use that to scry

Identify constellations in tea leaf readings.

Use a star map and pendulum to dowse - which constellation did you land on?

If you have one, set up your telescope, point it at a random spot in the sky, and scry based on what you see.

Use the spectral class colors of visible stars for yes/no answers (like, blue for yes and red for no, etc.).

[constellation correspondences] [enchanting items with celestial energy] [stellar color magic] [royal stars] [star maps]

Symbols are shortcuts between thought and result. Once activated, a sigil must be placed where its influence can move freely.

Ways to use a sigil: • Burn it to release the working immediately • Hide it in a wallet or pocket for ongoing influence • Place it under a candle as it burns • Trace it with water or smoke over doorways • Draw it on the body (washable or discreet) • Carve it into candles or soap • Sew it into clothing or bags • Scratch it into dirt, sand, or snow for temporary effects

A sigil should be used, not admired. Its power is in movement, not display.

Braiding binds multiple intentions into a single flow — strength, clarity, healing, protection, momentum. Each strand contributes its voice to the whole.

To craft a braided spell: • Choose three strands, each representing an aspect of your aim • Knot them at one end to anchor the work • Braid slowly, focusing on how the strands move together • Speak or hum as you braid, if it helps the rhythm • Finish with a knot that seals the braid’s final purpose • Keep the braid somewhere aligned with its aim — doorway, altar, bag, pocket

Braids are durable magic. Once woven, they hold steady until you choose to unbind them.

the moon - for matters dealing with emotional stress; for dreamwork; peace, protection, and manifestation.

the sun - for matters dealing with leadership, courage, and admiration; pride and arrogance.

mercury - for matters dealing with technology, communication, and business dealings as well as mental clarity and strength.

venus - for matters of love, both for yourself and for others; for companionship and creativity; for beauty and glamours.

mars - for matters involving passion and aggression; as a catalyst, for swift motion and courage; winning battles.

jupiter - for legal matters and luck; abundance and wealth; expansion; for matters involving thunderstorms.

saturn - for justice and creating boundaries; assistance in career matters; protection and binding; restriction and responsibility; death magic.

neptune - for matters dealing with illusions and distortion of perception; dreamwork and divination; psychic abilities and sea magic.

uranus - for matters dealing with intelligence and higher learning; revolution and rebellion; technology; for generalized weather magic.

pluto - for matters dealing with change, transformation, and metamorphosis; secrets and the unknown; death and rebirth; death magic.

The final sliver of light. The moon prepares for its burial and rebirth.

Use it for: • deep rest • introspection • dreamwork • letting go of what clings too tightly

Spells here work slowly, dissolving rather than cutting. Let what fades, fade.