Spells from the Hearth

When she casts, she casts with the warmth of the hearthplace. The very centre of her home and her magick, at this time, is the dance of the flames warming her hands. They weave together the strands of change that will become her life or the lives of those she casts for.

Hanging over the licking tongues of flame is the cauldron, holding within a soup to heal hurt, to help mend bone, to quiet an unstill mind. The herbs dry above her. The cat sits at her feet, reaching out a paw to remind her to stay true to her focus when her mind shifts from its purpose. The long nights of winter are made warm in such ways, and she is prepared, and satisfied, and calm, and at peace.

You, too, need to find that magick — a place to warm the body and to still the mind, a place where fire is not foe but friend, where all feel safe and cared for, even when the world is cold and harsh. Create this for yourself in the gathering, drying, and storing of herbs, in the cooking of meals that nurture the soul, in the movement of your hands in a pattern of purpose for the healing of spirit. Find your own way to the hearth of your home. And if there is not one, create a space where you will be warm, at peace, uninterrupted, and completely immersed in the magick that awaits only your hands and your heart to bring it to life. And you have the gift of the sweet forgetting of the hours.

Contentedness. Stillness. Plenty. Watched over by ancestors. Creation of magick. A sacred place within your home. The pleasure of your own company. Herbs, cauldron, familiars, and warmth. A well-stocked witch’s pantry. Quiet, step-by-step, heartfelt practical magick. Productiveness.

Feeling cold and unmotivated, scattered and edgy. The need for warmth and light—firelight, candlelight, sunlight—to warm and energise you. A sense of restlessness and inability to concentrate. Not planning ahead.