Most of us have had problems giving up on a relationship. This ritual will help you let go. Perform this ritual during the waning moon, when things can best be put to rest. Gather:
Black string
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Blog posts tagged in waning moon magic
The ultimate alchemy is to generate positive energy that spirals outward, improving everything in its path. I know of shamans and wise women who have dedicated their lives to doing good works, including some crones who practice in the ancient rainforest to protect the trees, and aborigines who spend their “dreamtime” repairing the earth.
You can contribute to universal peace and healing by burning a white candle, anointed with rose oil, on your altar during a waning moon on Saturday, which is Saturn’s Day. Place a single white rose in water and lay a garlic clove beside some rose incense. Light the incense, then take an herb bundle, light the end, and pass the smoke over your altar to cleanse the space. Chant:
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In days of yore, people often made their own inks, thus imbuing them with a deeply personal energy. They simply went to the side of the road and gathered blackberries or pokeberries from the vines that grew there. Often a bird flying overhead will supply a gift of volunteer vines best cultivated by a fence where they can climb, making berry-picking easier. When it comes to matters of the heart, contracts, legacy letters, and any document of real importance that you feel the need to make your mark upon, an artfully made ink can help you imbue your writings with power. This spell is best performed during the waning moon.
Gather the following for your ink recipe: a vial or small sealable bottle, dark red ink, 1/8th cup crushed berry juice, nine drops of burgundy wine, apple essential oil, and paper. You will also need one red candle.
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With this spell, you can create a week of blissful and composed calm! On a Monday evening during the waning moon, anoint a black or gray candle with violet essential oil. Place the candle on your altar beside a vase of fresh violets or other purple flowers. Sit in front of your altar as twilight begins, and when the sun is completely gone, light the candle and chant:
Care and woe, begone.
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In the days of yore, people often made their own inks, thus imbuing them with a deeply personal energy. They simply went to the side of the road and gathered blackberries or pokeberries from the vines that grew there. Often a bird flying overhead will supply a gift of volunteer vines best cultivated by a fence where they can climb, making berry-picking easier. When it comes to matters of the heart, contracts, legacy letters and any document of real importance that you feel the need to make your mark upon, an artfully made ink can help you write unforgettable love letters and very memorable memorandums. This spell is best performed during the waning moon.
Gather the following for your ink recipe: a vial or small sealable bottle, dark red ink, 1/8th cup crushed berry juice, nine drops of burgundy wine, apple essential oil, and paper.
On second thought, R___, I think that your definition witch = scientist + engineer + poet (which I really, really like) does indeed fit the "hill and holler" crowd. I'm drawing here on Owen Davies' academic study of historic British "cunning folk" (in his book of the same name).
Scientist: Draws conclusions from impartial observation of results.
Engineer: Designs practical applications of conclusions for specific instances.
Poet: Dresses up practical applications to maximalize psychological effect.
That's actually a very good description of how village witches (according to Davies) used to work. It reinforces my sense that it's the cowans that are the believers; the witches may or may not be believers themselves, but the major thrust is to use the belief of others for their own purposes (both for good, and for ill). ("Help when you can, harm when you need to.")
Davies sees this as having been a largely cynical pose on the part of the witches themselves--who, let's face it, were witching largely for gain--but me, I'm not so sure.
Last night my dad was telling me that my niece is having some warts removed today. This led to a discussion of warts generally, and he passed along a folk cure that he'd heard of (I neglected to ask from where, but bear in mind that my hometown Pittsburgh is the northernmost tip of Appalachia) about rubbing warts with stump-water by moonlight. As a practitioner myself, I'd think that one would want stump-water that reflects the full Moon: that way the warts will wane away as the Moon wanes. (And I guess we know which gods one would want to call on; but that's me, thinking in Witch again.)
