There Is No Such Thing as a Free Resource

As some of you may know, I’ve made the decision recently to pull back from my TikTok and put more energy into other outlets for my knowledge and creativity. In particularly, I’ve been working on growing my Patreon. This has left some people understandably disappointed, as my TikTok is a source of free information. But I want you, dear reader, to know that there is no such thing as a free resource, and if the only material you are consuming as you research your path are materials that are ostensibly free to you, you should understand the trade-off.

First of all, I’m sure everyone has heard the social media adage — if you’re not the customer, you’re the product. This means that if you are consuming media “for free” on social media, you’re not the customer. Customers pay. If you are consuming media on social media, you are the product. The customers are the advertisers that keep social media sites in business by advertising to you while they collect your information to keep refining the ads they target at you. And, honestly, part of this is why I’ve pulled away from TikTok. Yes, I recognize that every social media platform is going to have this problem, unless they charge users to use it, which would obviously limit their audience. But TikTok in particular has some very troubling and mysterious algorithm elements that actively suppress necessary content in favor of pushing out seemingly light-hearted, “unpolitical” content. But all content is inherently political — “avoiding politics” is in itself a political statement. So if you get most of your content from social media sites, you are “paying” for it in bias. You aren’t getting the full picture.

Beyond social media, where content is in pre-digested chunks ready for the baby birds of our audience, there are books. And while I do not condone pirating in-print books by living authors, I do use public domain references quite often in my research. But there are two costs to public domain references, both of them somewhat related to time. It is important to remember that time is a form of cost — I spend my time searching for references and reading them (sometimes in facsimile format or even in other languages, where necessary and/or possible for me). But beyond that, public domain references are generally rather old and might be out-of-date, both in terms of information that has been updated recently and in terms of philosophical values. In fact, my next folk magic course lesson will be able to learning how to recognize problematic language and themes in older references. And it takes time (and mental/emotional energy) to both sift through that rhetoric and to even learn how to recognize it in the first place. So from now on, when I do that work, I’m going to prioritize it for my paid content, through Patreon.

Because of the inherent bias in all references, and the platform-specific biases for references on social media sites. So I urge you all to find other forms of reference for your practice. No, not everyone has the financial resources to build a library of texts, but putting in the work to seek out content creators who share their lived experiences with dogwhistles and then using that to vet public domain resources available will serve you better than letting an algorithm choose what witchcraft content is put in front of you.

And if you happen to be interested, you can find my Patreon here.

On Teaching

Hildegard von Bingen

Despite the fact that I started this space as a place to share what I’ve learned in my two decades as a pagan and magical practitioner, I have never considered myself a teacher. I am just a person who has had experiences in the craft that might be different from what you have experienced and telling you about them might help you come to new realizations about your own practice. But as this space has gone in directions I never anticipated, I’ve found myself increasingly asked to teach, to act as an authority.

And when my spiritual guides entered the mix, I knew it was only a matter of time before I found a way to teach in earnest.

I think I’ve found that way, and this Friday, I will be launching “Auntie Eobha’s Folk Magic Course” on my Patreon at the Apprentice tier. You can find more information here, but I thought I would talk a bit here about my teaching philosophy and how I see the teaching of magical craft.

It is no secret that I post most of my content to TikTok, where I have the largest following. And on TikTok, there are certain creators who have obviously made their pages educational spaces. They present information and post references in the comments and field questions from their audience. It’s very similar to a college class, especially a smaller lecture, where the professor has time to address most of the questions from the group, but the primary format is presenting information formally. But these videos are necessarily able to be viewed as one-off snippets of information, for the most part, because there is no telling what the TikTok algorithm will decide to push out widely and it would be counter-productive to expect casual scrollers to go back through a profile to find the context of a given video.

And, unfortunately, the information I have to present is a bit more nuanced and does, to some extent, require a cumulative amount of background information. I have practiced since adolescence and every twist and turn of my own personal journey is part of the development of my current craft. There is no shortcut. And in some cases, there are aspects of folk craft that I need to communicate before getting into the “fun” aspects, like spells and tools. Folk craft is context-heavy and nuanced and not at all suited to a platform where an external algorithm rule all. In fact, it’s not even suited to this space where a single post could be indexed and searched through a search engine without context.

And so I’ve chosen to go through Patreon, where I can have a smaller group of serious students who are interested enough in the topic that they will put in the work to learn the context before the exciting stuff. We’re not just going to learn about candles, herbs, and spells. We’re going to learn about context. The first module of my course is about the historical and cultural context of both magic and the sources we have about it. We’re going to learn how to read sources critically and how to talk about magical practice in a way that doesn’t alienate marginalized people. And, yes, we will also learn some fun stuff.

Cycles in Life and in Craft

There is a lot going around social media and Witchtok about how other people’s craft or practice might not look like yours and that’s okay. But I think it is also important to talk about how your craft might not always look the same from day to day. In addition to developing over the years, your craft may fluctuate in a cyclic faction, just like everything else does. Though I am no adherent to the Wiccan “Wheel of the Year,” I do recognize the inherent cyclic nature of our lives and how that can affect the craft.

In my practice, I am very seasonal. I recognize the seasonal landmarks — the cross-quarter days that were marked with fire festivals in the ancient worlds, the natural events that signified important events both physically and metaphysically, and the changes in weather that can affect the energies present in my practice. And recently, I was made aware of a very strong cyclic influence in my practice: I am a dark-half-of-the-year practitioner.

Now, Samhain and Bealltainn are the two festivals that influenced Wicca that I honor the most regularly, along with Brigid’s Day, because they are important in Scottish folk tradition. And Samhain/Bealltainn specifically mark a transition point. People talk about “the veil being thin” at Samhain, but forget that Bealltainn is the other side of that coin. Charms are made at both festivals and divination is performed traditionally. And for me, a lot of their importance comes from their places at opposite sides of the year — Samhain is where the world feels like it is cooling down and darkening, while Bealltainn is where the world is warming up and brightening.

And I am very much a lover of the cold and dark. My primary deity is a storm goddess who is associated with winter in much of folklore. She is also sometimes oversimplified in modern neopaganism as a “dark goddess” because of her association with aging, winter, and the cycles of life and death, though the Cailleach is more than just a dark or death goddess. But I definitely feel her influence much more strongly in the time following Samhain and then feel it wane as we approach Bealltainn.

Well, recently, I got a birth chart reading where the astrologer (a fantastic friend of mine, Joshua Maria Garcia) pointed out that my chart is very one-sided and that my yearly cyclic influences will show a strong sense of rootedness in the winter months with growing feelings of disconnection during the height of summer. And I think this is part of why I have felt slightly disconnected from my practice in recent weeks and months.

And that’s okay. Our practices will not be the same from year to year, month to month, or day to day. The idea of a “daily practice” doesn’t mean you have to get up and do the same thing every day. It’s more of a daily check in. So now my “daily practice” consists of passive things like wearing devotional jewelry and maybe lighting a candle or reading some folklore. But my real workings will start back up with the colder weather.

A Witch or a Spae-Wife?

My friend Ash made a thoroughly enlightening video on IGTV the other day in which he explained the difference among the different kinds of Scottish folk practitioners. It was a delightfully succinct-yet-informative video, and it reminded me that Gaelic is not the only language of Scotland because he made sure to give Scots names for practitioners as well. It echoed the sentiments behind this piece from Cailleach’s Herbarium, in which Scott reminds us that “witches” were and are something quite specific in Scottish folk practice and that the idea that any practitioner of magical craft is a “witch” is a relatively new idea.

But Ash’s exploration of the differences among wise or canny folk and other practitioners of magic has led me down a research rabbit hole as I grapple with my own personal craft. I’ve spoken before about how I’m not really a witch (blighting cattle and consorting with the De’il isn’t really my cup of tea), and I had settled on the term “wise woman” as a way to describe what I do — a little wort cunning and herb lore, a little charm work, a little spirit travel, and a little divination. But my research is bringing me to the conclusion that my practice might be more akin to that of a spae-wife (or spey-wife), the diviner and seer of Scottish folk practice.

Because whenever I think about the conversation around the word “witch” and how it doesn’t really describe my practice, I also need to think about what words I do like to use for my practice, and “spae-wife” was a new word to me, learned from Ash’s video. And I like new words.

The word comes from the Old Norse word “spa,” which means to prophesy or foretell the future and was adapted into the Scots language to describe a woman who specialized in fortune-telling magic, although some accounts of the spae-wife painted her as similar to a wise woman, with aspects of medicinal or healing arts at her disposal. She might have been consulted for folk remedies, charms, or to help women in childbirth. In particular, though, the spae-wife specialized in divination, whether by dreams, cards, bones or stones, omens, or the traditional frith ceremony. The role seems to have been more common in the Orkney Islands, and the name “spae-wife” as opposed to “taibhsear” indicated that this was primarily a lowland role for magical practitioners.

And I love this. As I move through my practice, I’m finding myself more and more drawn to divination, seership, and my connection to the spirit world. It doesn’t hurt that my patron deity is a psychopomp of sorts, bridging the physical world and the world of the ancestors. So I am sampling this word, rolling it around in my mouth and brain and seeing if this might be a good word for my practice.

Part of coming into my own as a practitioner has been accepting that I am meant to share my craft with others. And part of that has been clearly revealed to me by doing a bit of a soft-opening of my divination services to my closer friends on social media. But this piece is also an announcement of sorts that I do offer divination services. I primarily use cards right now. I’m not really a medium, in that I cannot consistently and consciously channel spirits, though I get messages now and then, but I enjoy performing divination and passing messages along to those who seek them. If you are interested in a card reading, you can see more information on my Divination page. And hopefully, I can try to figure out how to offer remote readings of other kinds soon.

For now, I’ll remain an obscure online spae-wife, casting my stones and reading my cards, and waiting. Beannachd leat!

The Kinship of Magic and Herbalism

IMG_0891

One of the earliest written accounts of the use of herbs in European history is the Physica of Hildegard von Bingen, a medieval nun, mystic, and scholar of natural science from Germany. From her writings, it is clear that herbal healing and knowledge of natural remedies was intimately linked to concepts of magic and spirituality. From the introduction of her chapter on plant lore, she says that different plants have the ability to not only affect the physical body, but the spiritual one as well.

From there, we can look at Nicholas Culpeper’s English Physician (later retitled The Complete Herbal) and see how, in his descriptions of plants and their preparation and use, he takes into account not only the physical properties of each plant, but the metaphysical. He discusses the astrological correspondences of plants alongside the physical effects in the body.

This is why I am so insistent upon studying the history of my paths. While in the modern day, herbalism has take steps to become “more scientific” in an attempt to gain legitimacy among the world of “modern” medicine, the fact remains that the earliest roots of herbalism are entwined with the roots of magic, witchcraft, and metaphysical study.

And so much of medicine and healing, in any tradition, is intuitive and undefined. When I was being treated for migraine headaches, the doctor told me that there is not as much science behind treating migraines because it’s not entirely known what treatments will work for which people. He started me out with a medication that I knew worked for my mother because those sympathies often exist, but it was a guess. In the same way, how often have you heard a story of a medical issue where the doctor “had a feeling” they should try something, despite not seeing clear signs outwardly in tests?

In the same way, herbalism embraces this vagueness and uncertainty. The herbalist strives to treat the whole person. In a similar way, my experience with acupuncture showed me the benefit of treating the whole person, not just the specific complaint. I had gone to the acupuncturist for help conceiving, but found that the most fruitful sessions we had were those in which he treated my past grief. Medical science is only recently catching up to the ways in which the body is interconnected and seemingly distinct issues are part of a whole.

So in the same way that modern medicine grew out of the herbalism that was intimately interconnected with folk magic, we are still learning and expanding that story in ways that we don’t yet understand. We know these connections are there, but we don’t know exactly what they are. They are like the explanations for the cycles of eclipses or the changing of the seasons before we had observed them through space exploration. The human body will always be that which is most familiar and yet often most foreign to us. And what else is that which we know exists but don’t yet understand but magic?

Red Thread and Fiber Magic

IMG_0851

One of my favorite book series as a girl was Tamora Pierce’s Lioness Quartet. The books follow the life of a young magic-user in a fantasy realm, but one aspect of the story that I always found fascinating was when the main character is teaching a group of young people to act as their village’s magical practitioners and is teaching them the crafts involved in enchanting using household tasks, particularly fiber.

As someone who crochets, spins, and sews, fiber arts are something that intrigue me in the context of my craft, and in the folk practices that call me, thread and string are key players in common charms. So when I saw that my go-to yarn source had come out with a new three-ply wool yarn, I decided to look into string and thread charms more deeply.

My first stop was my book on Scottish charms and the writings of Scott Richardson-Read of Cailleach’s Herbarium. My trusty book of Scottish charms and amulets talks of the “rowan and red thread” charm, where two crossed sticks of rowan wood are tied together with red thread. Incidentally, this charm reminds me a bit of the “god’s eye” charms we made in elementary school. The color red has associations with protection and counteracting harmful magic across cultures. And Scott has written of the snaim, or three-knot charm, using red, three-ply wool string to perform a ritual knotting and chant to banish the evil eye.

Though I have no cattle to be blighted or any mysterious illnesses of my own, the use of folk protections like this appeals to me, especially when it involves a medium that I feel a close connection to. I’ve taken up spinning because I appreciate the meaning and symbolism of both spinning a thread, as well as the focus that goes into it. While my current batch of wool is undyed grey Shetland wool, perhaps I should consider dyeing some red fiber to spin my own thread for protection charms. Even without the threat of baneful practitioners who might curse me, a little protection is never a bad idea.

And this is the philosophy of practice that I find so attractive about traditional folk magic — it is not about large rituals, but about weaving magic in with the mundane. In the same way that the pre-Christian beliefs were intertwined and syncretized with Christian belief, the mundane and the sacred are blended in such a way that the magic imbues all areas of daily life. It isn’t about specific rituals, but about finding the magic in small charms. As I crochet a project, sew an apron, spin a skein, prepare a meal, or simply make a cup of tea, intent and focus lend magic to all of these actions, making them into small workings, even when I am not sitting down to “do magic.” It is all magic.

Eventually perhaps I may need to put some of these ideas together. I’ve thought for a while of creating my own special shawl to wear when I’m doing particular workings. While I had hoped to use my own handspun yarn, I worry that it will not be rugged enough to stand up to near-daily wear, so I have been looking at using commercial yarn. And crochet is similar to a series of knots. Perhaps a three-repeat pattern would be a powerful way to knot intention into the piece. And perhaps I should run a red thread through it to remind me of the protection of mundane crafts.

The Veiled Lady

HeadScarf2

Recently, I posted a picture of myself working on my Materia Medica in which I am wearing a head covering. I tried to pre-emptively explain it because in the past, when I’ve covered my head in public, I’ve gotten a fair number of comments or questions about it. But then a friend pointed out that it is only natural that I would feel drawn towards head covering or veiling, as my main deity is known solely as “the veiled one.”

Head covering or veiling exists in many spiritual and religious traditions for many reasons. Sikhs cover their hair to protect their crown chakra; Jewish people cover their head as a representation of their observance of Jewish law and custom; some Christian faiths cover, either all the time or specifically during services; and Muslim women will take the hijab as an expression of their faith. In pagan communities or among other practitioners, veiling is seen as an act of connection with a deity, or else a way to protect spiritual energy that is expressed through the hair or head.

Historically, head coverings also have a long and global history. My own covering is inspired by medieval European coverings, as well as by modern head scarves. I have found myself falling in and out of covering my head for various reasons — for hair protection, to keep things clean, to cover them when they’re not, and as a way to alleviate the pressure of updos on days when I have a headache. It was not until my friend’s comment that I realized that some of this was subconsciously an expression of my connection to a deity who is named for her head covering.

I have always felt the need for a shawl or veil while meditating. In fact, I have one shawl in particular, a black-and-white plaid, that holds a special connection to my spiritual practice and that I often use during my practice. And shawls, scarves, and blankets are a large part of my own personal ability to feel secure in an environment. It probably has a bit to do with why I feel most connected to my spiritual path during the colder months.

So as I found myself deepening my practice and my connection to the Cailleach, I also found myself covering my head more often. And with that, I felt the desire to have a special wrap. So I made it. It is made from unbleached natural linen and hand-sewn, with my intentions and attention sewn into every seam. It is easy for me to tie and secure and washable so I can use it to help keep my hair clean. It is both practical and a wonderful way to feel connected to my practice, even on days I don’t do some kind of formal working.

If you’re interested in more writings about veiling, from the perspective of a Jewish witch who addresses both Jewish and modern witchcraft traditions of veiling, Z from Jewitches has a beautiful post that helped me on my journey. All of her writings are fantastic.