My life is becoming quite chaotic (last minute holiday shoppers unite!) as the end of December approaches.  My weekends have been filled with commuting back and forth all over the city to various dinners and festivities and I haven’t had as much time as I would like to focus on my practice.

Like many pagans, I will be celebrating Yule this week.  I’m mostly a solitary witch so I’ve planned a simple feast (with a tasting of my Solstice Brew) and ritual that I will be performing at home.  Sometimes I wish I was a member of a coven that had big sabbat celebrations I could join.  Despite Chicago being such a large city, the pagan groups here are fairly small and often too far away to go to regularly.  I like to think that in the future I might create my own coven, but if that’s to happen, it would most likely be a couple years from now.  

That hasn’t dampened my spirits much though.  I really enjoy my solitary rituals and I’ve been filling my time with lots of Yule-themed crafts and meals.  The most recent activity I’ve worked on was to create a Yule Witch Ball.

Witch Balls can be used for protection against negativity, evil spells, ill fortune, and sickness.  They are best hung in an east window where they can catch the morning light, though you can really place them anywhere in your home or garden.  

The theory behind Witch Balls is that negative energies or malevolent spirits become mesmerized by the bright colors on the outside of the ball and get trapped inside, thus preventing any bad energies from affecting its surroundings.  

My Yule-themed Witch Ball is filled with fragrant cinnamon sticks and anise stars, silver snowflakes made from cardboard, and a variety of red (fake) berries.  I draped the ball with bright red ribbon to make it even more festive.  I look forward to displaying this object each Yule season and I’m confident that it will facilitate positive thoughts and energies at this joyous time.

It’s now less than two weeks till Yule.  Though the days continue to shorten and the nights seem forever long, I feel much joy looking forward to the upcoming solstice.  In this great countdown to the return of the sun, I try to surround myself with as much festivity and comfort as possible.  I’ve strewn bright twinkle lights around my city apartment and decorated with garlands made from pine branches.  My kitchen is warm with scents of cinnamon and clove as I cook my Yuletide favorites.  

Each day, despite the often bitter cold, I walk to lakefront path and find beauty in the gentle snowfall and icy winds.  I’m not alone, every day I see runners and bikers upon the path.  Looking at them running through the frost in their brightly colored neon gear always makes me smile.  I admire their determination and resolve to get outside everyday no matter the weather.

Yesterday while I was walking amongst the path, I noticed many small branches that had fallen to the ground.  I took some in hand and headed home to make a rustic Yule wreath.  One of the great things about decorating for the sabbats is that it’s best to use natural materials when possible, which means of course, that the materials are free.  While I have made more of an effort recently to incorporate natural materials in my craft, I still couldn’t resist buying a big red bow to place upon my homespun wreath.

Below are instructions for making your very own festive Yule wreath.
These instructions adapted from Starburst Twig Wreath

You will need:
A collection of branches
Cardboard cut into a disc shape
Twine
Glue and a hot glue gun
A bow (optional)

The instructions are as simple as wrapping your cardboard disc in twine, gluing your branches to the disc in a starburst pattern, and finally adding a bow and a string to hang the wreath from.

Looking towards the next month I know that the days will continue to shorten.  Luckily, December is a month filled with merriment and joy for Christians and Pagans alike.  As the days get colder, we decorate our homes and make time for dinner with friends and family.  The city too reflects our cheer as red bows, pine garlands, and bright lights cloak the city in merriment.

For me, the festivities culminate at the winter solstice.  A joyful time as we can welcome the growth of the sun and take comfort in knowing that the daylight hours will extend.  If I can manage, I like to wake up to see the sunrise on solstice morning.  I take a mug of coffee out to the lake, find a good bench, and watch the sun illuminate the city.  Our winter season in Chicago is long, but I take comfort through the months knowing that after the solstice each day becomes just a little bit longer than the day before.  

As I walked home from work the other day I stopped to pick up a few items to make a certain winter brew.  Something that will surely warm me and my friends through these upcoming winter months.  

This jar of spiced deliciousness takes 5 weeks to fully infuse so I recommend making it as soon as possible.  I confess that I should have planned it a bit better.  I was hoping to have the brew ready for drinking by the solstice.  Though of course, life tends to get in the way at times so I will need to wait till the very end of December to taste my first sip.  

WINTER BREW

This recipe is from the lifestyle blog Sidewalk Shoes

Ingredients

- 4 cups brandy
- 1 piece cinnamon stick
- 2 star anise
- 1 vanilla bean, sliced lengthwise
- 24 black peppercorns
- 4 navel oranges, chopped into large pieces

Instructions

1. Combine all ingredients in a large mason jar.  Cap it tightly and store in a cool dark place for two weeks.  Shake the jar daily.

2. After the two weeks strain the brew through a fine mesh strainer or coffee filter.  Return the liquid to the jar and let it mellow for three weeks in a cool and dark place.

3. Enjoy with friends throughout the winter.

Cord or knot magic is an old form of folk magic that is still widely practiced today.  What I like about cord magic is that it’s simple and can be done for any intention.  Cord magic is all about trapping your desire in a series of knots and then releasing that power over several days as you untie them.  

All you will need for this is a simple chord.  Traditionally, chord magic is done with a 9 feet or a 9 inch cord.  Though you can use a different length if you would like incorporating numerology that corresponds with your desire.

The color of your cord should also reflect your desire.  You can view various color correspondences below:

The timing that the knots are released should correspond with the cycles of the moon.  For example, if you are trying to gain wealth you would release the first knot shortly after the new moon and would proceed to release the other knots during the next consecutive days (one knot per day).  This way as the moon grows so shall your spell.

The pattern of tying the knots is as follows:
1--6--4--7--3--8--5--9--2

This means that you tie the first knot on the very left side of the cord, the second knot on the far right side, the third knot in the middle, the forth knot in between the far right and the middle knot, etc.  It is not necessary to tie the knots in this order, doing it this way just helps to insure the 9 knots are evenly spaced on your cord.
 

While making the knots, visualize your desire being fulfilled and say the following words as you tie your knots:

By knot of one, the spell’s begun
By knot of two, it cometh true
By knot of three, so mote it be
By knot of four, this power I store
By knot of five, the spell’s alive
By knot of six, this spell I fix
By knot of seven, events I’ll leaven
By knot of eight, it will be fate
By knot of nine, what’s done is mine

Upon completing the last knot your power is now stored within the cord.  When you decide you untie the knots it’s best to do so in the same order that they were tied.  Also, be sure to meditate upon your desires coming true as you untie the knots.  

Do you incorporate cord magic in your practice?  If so, post about your experiences in the comments below. 

Cord magic information adapted from Cord or Knot Magic

The steel rails of the El Train roar as they screech, bright sparks illuminating red against frosty wheels.  The wooden train platform is high and narrow, the wind whipping through the splintered slats and rusted rivets.  I pull my scarf close and try to find the gloves inside my bag.  It’s an inhuman kind of cold in the city today.  Only late November, I know that the winds will only become stronger as they howl endlessly through the empty branches and brick alleyways.  

Photo from artist Daniel Vazquez

As the last of November is swept away along with the remaining leaves, it’s hard to look towards the cold months ahead and think warmly.   But as witches, we know we must do so. For we are the stewards of the seasons; guardians of the subtle natural changes that others ignore.  And it is up to us to find beauty in all aspects of the wheel of the year.  

For me that means respecting the bitter cold of Chicago, something difficult to do as the temperatures free fall and the daylight hours seem to slip through my fingers.  But then again, I remember the previous years and I know that beneath the bitter cold and darkness there will be much beauty and power to be found.  

I know that when the snows begin to fall they will cover the grey dirt and grime of the streets, making our roads glimmer diamond in the morning light.  Along with the cold winds, the air becomes clear and the moonlight shines brighter.  I remember times last winter as I walked towards the lake and saw the wild waters crash against sandy shores.  The winds formed sand dunes into great monolithic structures of ice and frost.  Standing nearby I could feel the wild uncontrollable power of the waves.  A feeling that reminded me that we individuals are only minor players among the greater powers.  For in winter, we are reminded that we are beholden to nature and such knowledge gives us a greater appreciation and connection to the spirits of the wild.    

As witches, we are the ones that take notice and tap into this power.  To feel the rush of those winter winds run through our veins.  To stand beneath the moon and have its light bathe our skin.  Such feelings are available to all, yet only us witches aim to understand them.  Only us witches take the time to harness and use these powerful forces. Our winter walks become a subversive act against the complacency of those that shut themselves in and ignore the power and beauty to behold.

Remembering all this I am comforted as stand upon the wooden platform waiting for my train.  I watch a solitary leaf fall and dance between bare branches before meeting the ground.  I smile as I observe the empty trees swaying in the wind.  For as the last of the leaves fall and crumble against the frost, I know the great wilds of winter are storming in.  A power and energy I look forward to seeing and working with again.

A full moon approaches.  The November moon is called the Beaver Moon, an ode to a time when people were more connected to the earth and the wild.  This moon once signified a time when beaver pelts were at the height of warmth and beauty.  As the moon approached hunters knew it would be their last chance to go into the woods to trap the beavers.  For by the time of the next moon-cycle it would be too late, the lakes would be frozen and the beavers asleep.  The light of the November moon guided them as a last glimmer of warmth before reaching the cold season.

The Beaver Moon will be unusually special this year as it will also be a Super Moon.  This Monday the moon will appear larger than it has since the 1940s.  The moon will also appear brighter than usual as it will be closer to Earth at this time of year.  If there was ever a time to go outside and marvel at its beauty, this is it.

The November moon is a time of quiet anticipation of the winter season ahead.  The nights are ever so long and the cold winds brush the last of the leaves to the ground.  I walked along the shores of Lake Michigan this morning.  I could feel the season was on the edge of a precipice.  It was a beautiful autumn this year and filled with many bright and glowing hours of warmth.  The leaves fell slowly this season, holding on to their vivid oranges and reds before drifting lightly to the ground.  Yet, as a wrapped my scarf around my neck by the lake this morning, I could feel the impending chill.  The brown leaves crumbled beneath my boots above empty branches and my cheeks tinged pink as I walked on.  The frost was coming and would hold its grip on Chicago for many months to come.

When I returned to my warm apartment, I turned on the kettle to make some camomile tea and I pulled out my tarot cards.  I was not surprised when the Hermit appeared in my reading.  

The Hermit suggests you are about to enter a phase of introspection as your focus turns inward.  It is a time when you seek solitude and isolation from others.  The Hermit asks you to grow and respect the spiritual wisdom within.  Great advise for the beginnings of the winter season.  

Below is a simple full moon ritual that can be performed to honor the Goddess.  

November Moon Esbat Ritual

This is an Esbat in the Wiccan tradition with passages adapted from Hold an Esbat Rite by Patti Wigington and Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner by Scott Cunningham

This ritual is best performed outside under the full moon.  

If your tradition asks you to cast a circle begin by doing so.  Or, you can ritually purify the area by smudging or sprinkling salt water around the ritual space.

Place your altar in the center of the sacred space or if you are outside simply find a clearing and lay your tools down upon the earth.

You will need:

• A bowl of water

• A white candle

• A black marker or knife to draw upon the candle

• A cup of wine

• A plate with a biscuit or cookie

• Any additional lunar symbols such as images of the goddess, mirrors, white crystals and flowers, silver ribbons, etc.

Begin by carving or drawing a moon symbol or sigil onto the white candle.  I drew the symbol of the triple goddess upon mine.

Turn towards the moon, open your arms wide, tilt your face to the stars and say:

Wondrous lady of the moon;
you who greets the dusk with silvered kisses;
mistress of the night and of all magics,
who rides the clouds in blackened skies
and spills light upon the cold earth;
O lunar Goddess,
crescented-one,
shadow maker and shadow breaker;
revealer of mysteries past and present;
puller of seas and ruler of women;
all-wise lunar Mother,
I greet your celestial jewel
at the waxing of its powers
with a rite in your honor
I pray by the moon,
I pray by the moon,
I pray by the moon.

Light the candle and spend a few moments reflecting on the warmth of the flame and meditating on the seasonal changes occurring.

Hold the bowl of water to the sky and say:

The moon is the symbol of the mother,
and she watches over us day and night.
She brings the changing tide, the shifting night,
the flow that changes women's bodies,
and the passion of lovers to their beloved.
Her wisdom is great and all-knowing,
and we honor her tonight.
Keep your watchful eyes upon us, great mother,
until the cycle returns once more,
and bring us to the next full moon,
in your love and light.

Meditate on all the things you're thankful for and what you wish to achieve by the next full moon.  Visualize your energy swirling and flowing into the water.

If you would like you can also do some scrying using the bowl of water or using a crystal sphere at this time.

(After the ritual is complete you will be able to place the moon water in a bottle and use it throughout the month in your spellwork.)

Next take up your cup of wine and hold it towards the sky and say:

Gracious Goddess of abundance,
Bless this wine and infuse it with your love.
In your names, Mother Goddess and Father God,
I bless this wine.

Hold up your plate with the biscuit or cookie and and say:

Powerful God of the harvest,
bless these cakes and infuse them with your love.
In your names, Mother Goddess and Father God,
I bless these cakes (or bread).

End the ritual with your simple feast of ‘cakes and ale’ and by thanking the goddess.  

Across from one of the oldest taverns in the city of Chicago lies Rosehill Cemetery.  This Victorian-era resting place is the largest in the city and it’s stone walls appear to go on for miles.  I often saw glimmers of this cemetery along my daily commute on the L train, though I had not yet walked it’s labyrinthine pathways.  That is, until today.  

This morning the air in the city was filled with that uniquely autumn smell.  Pleasant, yet difficult to describe.  Some kind of petrichor from the morning dew combined with the subtle decay of plant life.  The air was crisp, tinged with a note of the upcoming winter months.  My leather boots crunched across the brown leaves scattered along the sidewalk as I walked to get my morning coffee and contemplate my plans.  It was one of those perfect autumn days, a prime backdrop for an adventure.

I went alone, for I find cemetery visits are best without casual chitchat.  Approaching the cemetery I was pleasantly surprised to be greeted with a massive entrance.  The wrought iron gate melded into beautiful limestone towers with detailed embrasures.  A red vine snaked along the opening leading my way through the arch.  

I meandered along several paths through the cemetery letting the statues lead me.  I saw a large quantity of striking angels and obelisks scattered throughout.  Through it was the trees that truly captivated me.  The leaves fell in waves of burgundy and scattered among the tombstones.  The canopy shaded the paths and dappled sunlight glimmered across the branches.  

As this was a spur of the moment journey, I did not think to collect any graveyard dirt.  Though next time I visit, I will be sure to collect some.  Graveyard dirt is a crucial ingredient in many spells.  If you do decide to go about collecting graveyard dirt, It’s best to not actually dig into the earth.  Instead, simply gather a handful of surface dirt.  Or, you can collect the dust atop a tombstone.  Afterwards, leave a small offering like a coin or libation to appease the spirits.  Graveyard dirt can be used for both positive and malevolent purposes.  Below is an example of a spell using graveyard dirt from The Encyclopedia of 5,000 Spells by Judika Illes.  

Protection From a Loved One Beyond the Grave

Step 1: Fill a red bag with a small amount of dirt taken from the grave site of a loved one.  Also add one flower from the funeral and a pebble from the cemetery.

Step 2: Anoint the bag with drop of the deceased’s favorite perfume or cologne.  This bag can be worn or carried with you as a protective charm.

Have you used graveyard dirt in a spell before?  Post your own experiences using this ingredient in the comments below.

We gathered ‘round the old churchyard.  Once an ancient pagan site, now littered with unknown graves and crooked cobblestones.  

Yet underneath the stones and bodies, there remains an ancient power. A power that still resonates and electrifies the air.  A memory of people long gone who once danced among a circle of stones much different that these grave markers before us.  Most of that history now forgotten, but truth is on our side.  For tonight is our realm, and our spirit takes a grip that holds upon this place.

Cold wind blows into the skin as we start the fire in the center of our circle.  The fire crackles as the twigs snap and break as they burn.  Gathered hand in hand,  we danse macabre around the fire burning strong.  And as we dance, wIth each step, we move downwards in a spiral among this ring of shadows.

As a cloud reveals the hidden moon, it appears the spirits and ancestors have heard our call.  Thick smoke rises and flows between us for on this night the veil between worlds comes to meet our intentions.  Gentle whispers are heard as wisps of smoke past beyond my outstretched arm.  The sublime energy opens my eyes wide and sends shivers down my spine.

It seems a great paradox, for as we dance and move closer towards the veil, is when we feel most alive.  For your heart can not be full without that rush of fear.  

We all dance together ‘round the fire.  The spirits and ancestors twirling and weaving among our bodies.  Our energy rises to the stars till we eventually collapse to the ground and the soft grasses temper our weight.  And as I lay down upon the earth, I see the smoke and fog dissipate as it flows back beyond the veil, waiting for our next encounter.

We drove down County Road X through the woods of Alabama.  The county had never bothered to pave anywhere this remote so the journey was rough and the rocks cracked under the tires as we headed along the shaded path.  Reaching the crest of a hill we followed a fork in the road to reach our lodge.  The path stopped before a set of large black gates.  The top of the gate was detailed in the shape of a deer head fitted with large red glass eyes and reminded me of something you might see at Malfoy manor.  It was strange to think that just hours before I had been moving through the city of Chicago, rushing past hundreds of people going about their business.  And now, here I was in the middle of nowhere in a state most Chicagoans look on with fear and disdain.  And to be fair, some of the stereotypes were true.  As we moved through the gate and into the large cabin we would be staying, we found countless indication that this was a place for hunters and that we, us city folk, were clearly out of place.

While I was there to visit some distant relatives, I made sure to find time to escape and venture on my own through the many acres of woods that made up the property.   For someone used to the incessant racket of city noise, the absence of it was unsettling at first.  Though the ability to be completely surrounded by nature was refreshing and much needed.  At home in the city I often can only look at the moon through a window, or perhaps in a city park.  It is rare that I get to experience nature alone.  But here, in the woods of Alabama it seemed that everything was different.  

As the sun set I made my way to a small pond deep in a valley.  The trees down by the river were magnificent, and the riotous colors shone bright through the waters reflection.  As I walked towards the water's edge it became clear that this was a place not owned by people, but by the animals and spirits of the woods.

An October song of leaves scattered about my boots as I snaked between the trees.  The trees swayed as the wind whipped through the leaves, the cracking branches forming an uncanny rhythm.  As the sky began to darken I turned on my Coleman lantern and that was when the sensation of being truly alone at night in an unfamiliar place hit me.  The fear began to settle in as my hair twirled and whipped in the wind, framing my face.  My eyes were wide and stared intently as I looked ahead into the darkness.  My heart beat fast beneath my skin.  My ears were sensitive to every crunch of leaf and snap of twig.  While the breeze was warm, I felt like a bag of bones, chattering against the wind.   I found a small clearing where I could sit and I stayed there among the trees for several minutes till my heart began to calm down enough where I could begin to sense the energy of the woods.

As I shut my eyes and surrendered to the darkness, I could feel what I’ve been missing.  In the city I work with the frenetic energy and magic of the hive.  The great swarm of people, industry, and memory.  This, however, was a deeper, darker, and more profound energy.  And just as a horse can sense your nervous inexperience, the guardians of the woods could tell that I was out of place and out of practice.  To tell the truth I felt guilty.  Why was I feeling fear?  Shouldn’t all witches feel comfort in the darkness of the woods?  I couldn't remember the last time I entered the woods alone.  How could I claim to be a witch without regularly working with this dark energy of the wild?   

After a few minutes of meditative silence I preformed a simple ritual thanking the God and Goddess and then headed back up to the main trail.  

This experience was somehow much more personal and deep than other experiences I’ve had with nature in the city.  When I go to various parks in the city the knowledge that civilization nearby is comforting, but it is also limiting.  Maybe the fear I felt in the woods was a necessary part of reaching through the veil and building a relationship with the other world.

I understand that not everyone can live in the countryside.  Though this trip was short it gave me an aching to make more effort to go to the wild places.  The places untamed by people.  It was bittersweet to leave the woods and return to Chicago.  Though, I will maintain the memory of the wild energy I felt in those Alabama woods and I will work tirelessly to find ways to reconnect with it again. 

Simple Ritual to Thank to Spirits of the Woods

Inspired from a ritual in Living Wicca by Scott Cunningham

As you walk alone towards a body of water collect autumn leaves that have fallen to the ground.  Upon reaching the water’s edge find a seat and cast a circle if you would like.  As you float the leaves one by one upon the water visualize your reason for the ritual.  Remember why you are thanking the God and Goddess.  As the leaves float away say the following words:

Lady of the moon, of the stars, and the earth;
Lord of the sun, of the forests, and the wild;
I perform a ritual of thanks.
My love shines like the flame of a candle;
And floats like the leaves of autumn.

Lady of the waters, of flowers, and the sea;
Lord of the air, of horns, and of fire;
I perform a ritual of thanks.
My love shines like the flame of a candle;
And floats like the leaves of autumn.

Lady of the caves, of cats, and snakes;
Lord of the plains, of falcons, and stags;
I perform a ritual of thanks.
My love shines like the flame of a candle;
And floats like the leaves of autumn.

Do you have a ritual you like to perform alone in the woods?  Let me know in the comments below.