Process and Spirit

by Ian Elliott   

There is an old Chinese proverb: “When the wrong man uses the right means, the right means work in the wrong way.”  This saying reveals the missing element in spiritual disciplines that do not bear fruit.  You may read all the manuals of shamanism and witchcraft, and so forth, that you like, and you may try practicing one particular discipline consistently, following the steps laid out for you in the manual, and yet achieve only weak, spotty results at best.  These disciplines all seem to require a commitment greater than one is willing to make in order to be effective.

We are living in a mechanistic age, a time when all problems are approached as though they are engineering problems and can be solved by the correct application of skill and discipline.  We think that by learning a certain technique, and applying it efficiently, we can surmount difficulties in any field, including the realm of spiritual effort.

I once knew a young man who was socially backward and asked me to describe the “right approach” to women, in order to “get some action.”  I said that the right approach is to genuinely like them; they really appreciate being liked.  He was nonplussed at this advice, recognizing immediately that no technique could make him like women if he instinctively distrusted them, which he did.

The same thing applies to the religious or spiritual realm, and this was recognized in the pre-mechanistic age when the “technique” followed was interaction with spirits.  Spirits are persons, not processes.  You can switch a computer on and work at it for as long as you like, then save your work, switch it off, and later when you come back it will be ready to resume, whether you had stayed away for an hour or a year.  Persons are not like that.  If you put in time with a mate and then stay away for a year, you will not find that person very willing to resume where you left off if you come back to him or her.  The same is true of spirits.

Another difference already alluded to involves the emotions.  Your computer doesn’t care if you like it or not, but a person will care.  You must not only like someone, but must show it as well; even in friendship, a certain amount of devotion must be paid.  To some extent this follows upon effort, that is, if you make a great personal sacrifice of time and energy for the sake of a person, that person will acquire a measure of importance in your eyes, and vice versa.  However, it is never a matter of mere investment on your part.  You must dedicate yourself past the point where you forget profit and loss. 

In the same way, a religion cannot be a mere hobby, one activity among many.  Witchcraft comes to mind in this connection.  For many, witchcraft is a hobby, something that can be taken up or laid down at will without consequences.  There are no spirits in hobbies; you may lick and paste all the stamps you like into an album, but the album will remain unaware of you, and thus you can relax and simply enjoy yourself.

If that is all witchcraft or some other mystery religion means to you, that is all right, but realize that you will remain in the outer court of the mysteries and never pass through the gates into the inner sanctum.  The gates of mysteries are guarded by spirits, and spirits are persons, and if you are to pass within, you must initiate, and keep up, a personal relationship with those guardians.  When your efforts begin to bear fruit, instead of thinking “it’s starting to work,” think instead “the spirit is responding to me.”  This will follow in the unpredictable nature of results, which come in their own time and way, seemingly incommensurate with the amount of effort put out; and this is another reason for regarding them as the behavior of a spirit, rather than the automatic results of an impersonal technique.

In our tradition, which might be described as Celtic-eclectic (that is, focused on Celtic lore but open to borrowings from related traditions), three initiations are held, preceded by a dedication.  When a student is ready, he or she may request a dedication ceremony, at which a promise is made to study the Craft and the coven tradition for a year and a day.  This is a promise to the coven, not a vow; as yet, no spirits are involved. 

At the end of the dedication period, the dedicated one may request actual initiation into the coven.  This ceremony, which naturally must remain secret, includes a vow and personal “introductions” of the initiate to the Watchers, the “great ones” or gods of the four quarters.  The Watchers each govern a kingdom of elementals, and one elemental from each kingdom passes into the appropriate elemental tool of the initiate.  In our tradition, a sylph passes into the wand, a salamander into the athame, an undine into the chalice, and a gnome into the pentacle.  An initiate should have all four tools on hand for an initiation, though sometimes this is deferred until a particular tool is acquired.  But in any case, the first degree initiation marks the beginning of a personal relationship for the witch with each of the four spirits known as “Watchers”.

The Watcher of the East is the elemental spirit of Air, and governs knowledge.  The Watcher of the South is the elemental spirit of Fire, and governs will.  The Watcher of the West is the elemental spirit of Water, and governs daring (that is, devotion or dedication); and the Watcher of the North is the elemental spirit of Earth, and governs inner (and outer) silence.

One’s relationship with the Watchers and their respective spheres must be personal, and this applies also to the elemental tools, for these must not be thought of as tools in the mechanistic sense, but rather as fetishes, each housing a spirit.  The association of the tool with the elemental quality should be reinforced by having the wand at hand while learning, the athame while exerting the will in disciplined action, the chalice while going beyond one’s limits in a super-effort, and the pentacle while going within in inner silence.  Traditionally the witch will name his or her tools, as it seems; but actually the name is for the indwelling elemental.

The philosopher Nietzsche, in his book Thus Spake Zarathustra, describes the “last man” and contrasts him with the “overman” (by which he meant the self-overcoming man).  The last man is the product of mechanization, he (or she is understood) who seeks to cut corners at all costs, he who never gives himself in commitment, he who is unable to despise himself.  The world of the last man is one in which one hears “a fool, who still stumbles over stones or human beings!”  For in the mechanistic, measured-out world, stones and human beings are alike regarded as mere obstacles to one’s goals.

By contrast, the overman has gone through an overwhelming experience Nietzsche calls “the hour of the great contempt.”  “What matters my learning?” asks the overman of himself.  “I do not see that I desire knowledge as the lion desires food!”  And similarly for the other virtues, the overman sees and rejects his own half-heartedness and disinclination to give himself to his values.  This is the atmosphere of the witch dealing with his or her elementals and the Watchers.  They are persons, not means to ends.

For pagans in general, the same can be said of one’s relation to one’s patrono or matrona, the personal god or goddess with whom one has a special relationship.  Every deity has something to teach, a discipline to impart, and the devotee learns and follows the teaching, the discipline of his or her sponsoring deity.  In our witchcraft tradition, the witch will put special effort into his or her relationship with one of the great ones, whether a Watcher of the four quarters, or one of the deities of the height, the center or the deep.  In paganism generally, the patrono or matrona can be chosen from any deity in the pantheon of one’s chosen tradition.

Whomever one chooses, the important point is to dedicate oneself, not exclusively to the one spirit, but with the intensity and focus one would have towards a lover or intimate friend.  A too exclusive dedication, as in monotheism, leads to spiritual imbalance; nevertheless, one should feel that one’s patrono or matrona is an important person in one’s life, and make continual (though not continuous) efforts in that deity’s discipline.

The benefits accruing from such a relationship will reinforce the efforts of the devotee, but must never eclipse the personal importance of the spirit involved.  If this happens, one has fallen back on process and will make only mechanical, half-hearted (at best) efforts; and then the relationship with the spirit will wither and die.  The wrong man will have used the right means, and the right means will have worked in the wrong way.

Names in Witchcraft

by Ian Elliott  07/08/2014

On Modranacht, which is variously celebrated on December 24^th or, in northern tradition, a bit earlier, the Three Maternae or Mothers name the newborn Oak King, the Child of Promise.  Giving him a name involves divining his destiny for the next half-year, for the waxing year is the time of his reign.

This illustrates the connection in traditional cultures between names and destiny.  In our modern cowan culture (‘cowan’ means a non-witch in traditional witchcraft, but can be expanded to mean ‘one who does not follow, or seek, a spiritual path’), we receive names that are little more than noises, but which might reflect sentiment on the part of our parents.  Often a favorite aunt or uncle’s name is reproduced in the first or middle name of the newborn child.  But the name as used in mainstream society is little more than a legal placeholder, something to fill in the blanks on tax forms and other documents.  The bearer of the name almost never feels any responsibility to carry the meaning of the name forward into his or her life.  The heathen Udmurts of central Russia ran into  conflict with the authorities because their culture dictates a change from the milk-name to the mature name of a growing child.  The schools, having already registered the milk-name, insisted on keeping it for the young Udmurts, in effect declaring that they remain toddlers all their lives

.

Most of us enter the Craft from mainstream society, and bear cowan names, but the pagan-friendly and pagan-curious often adopt a nickname whose meaning could be described as a personal variation on one who seeks, characterizing in some way the nature of one’s search for meaning in life, or at least how one feels about such a search. My father, by contrast, once said “When I was a young man, I was very concerned to discover some sort of truth; but after a while you just make a living.”  If he had been given to reflecting on this decision, his name thereafter might have been “Just makes a living.”  But as he opted for living unreflectively, he did not reflect on his name as it pertained to his life path.

In my own case, my pagan-curious nickname is Quicksilver.  When I was a child, I remember we broke a thermometer and I watched in fascination all the little silver bubbles of mercury hopping around on the carpet.  Like mercury or quicksilver (to avoid using the God’s name), I hop around a lot.  I subsequently heard a lot about that in school and later in jobs.  “Too many outside interests.”  “Needs to focus more,” etc.  Well, that is just how I am.  But once I dedicated to the Craft, I acquired a focus of sorts, though I still hop around an awful lot.

The cowan name, then, belongs outside the circles of the Craft, and accompanies a radically different path in life from that taken by a seeker of meaning.  The Tarot card of The Fool, depicting a jester about to step off a cliff, can be taken as the image of the culmination of a cowan’s life path.

Having found the Craft and having decided to study it in depth, a student enters on a radically different path from that on which the people of mainstream society wander all their lives.  The student may elect to dedicate to the Craft, and choose a name representing his or her dedication, and the nature of the commitment being made.

Dedication is a particular span of time during which the dedicant studies the lore and practices of the elementary Craft more intensely than before.  Traditionally the period is for ‘a year and a day,’ though this originally meant a solar year, i.e. a lunar year of 364 days plus the Nameless Day added to bring it even with the solar year.  In our busy 21^st-century lives, however, the period of dedication may be shortened, particularly if the dedicant feels ready for a full lifetime commitment to the Craft.  In that case, he or she will request initiation.

When one is initiated, he or she joins an inner circle of mutually-supporting witches working with certain helping spirits whose identity is kept secret from non-initiates.  The initiate may retain his or her name of dedication, or else receive or choose a new name, by which he or she is known only to the initiatic circle.  This name is used at Esbats within that circle, but never outside it.  Its meaning should reflect where the initiate feels he or she is presently, as well as where he or she is going in the Craft, again for the duration of the current incarnation.

Witches believe in reincarnation, and like others who do, it is assumed that a new name will be borne in a future life.  But from life to life the witch progresses, as his or her root-soul in the Summerland (also called Tir-na n’og and other names, depending on the tradition followed) grows with the lessons learned in each life.  This larger cycle is traversed by a group of souls known variously as a ‘soul-cluster’ or a ‘witch family’.  Members of the same witch family may reincarnate together, or some may stay on the Other Side to help guide those who are currently reborn.  When we meet someone with whom we feel an instant rapport, and whom we seem to have known for untold ages, it is a sign that we have come into contact with another member of our witch family or soul cluster.  Sometimes two people will mistake this for having met their ‘soul mate’, and if the romantic nature of their relation eventually plays out, they may find they are still best friends.  On the other hand, members of one’s genetic family may or may not also belong to one’s soul cluster.  We may regret not being able to get as close to a brother or sister as we would wish, even though we love them dearly.

When a witch has descended the inner pillar to the marches of the Summerland and received an intimation of his or her root-soul, and perhaps other members of his or her witch family, a sense of where the root-soul stands in relation to its development and eventual transmutation may lead to the choice of an inner name.  This inner name is only tentative until the witch is on the Other Side, but it may turn out to be accurate enough.  If I receive such an intimation, I may come back to Middle-Earth with a name which reflects where I stand in my career from life to life as a witch.  This name is deeper than the initiatic one and must never be shared except with the Gods in prayer, or with helping spirits from the Other Side.

There are cycles enclosing cycles, and once a root-soul has fully matured, the witch will go to the Sun and there receive a body of light. [1]  Thereafter he or she may materialize temporarily in Middle-Earth for specific purposes, but regular reincarnation will no longer be necessary.  The witch will have become an elemental or minor demigod, balanced in all four elemental powers of knowledge, will, daring and stillness, and will assist the Gods in their labors.  And then, I suppose, we get a new name.

Bibliography

GRIMASSI, Raven, Italian Witchcraft; The Old Religion of Southern Europe, St. Paul,

MN, Llewellyn Publications, 2000.

NIKHILANANDA, Swami, translator, The Upanishads; a New Translation, in four

          volumes,  New York, Ramakrishna-Vivekananda Center, 1952.

---

[1] As described in both the Prasna Upanishad and in Italian stregheria.

HEALING HEDGEWITCH, June13, 2016

                                      THE ELEMENTS OF HEALING by Rowe Greentree

Aspects of the Healing Arts are associated with all the Elements, and the healer must be proficient in each area, and able to move between them. If we are to become our own healers, we need some basic skills in each area as well. As we learn in each area, we can apply it at once, and so gain valuable experience immediately.

The practical areas of our health relate to the Earth Element. Earthly energies relate to the food we eat, to our environment and daily activities, to exercise and fitness and to practical strategies of self-care. Herbal remedies, aerobics and natural home products are ways we can apply the Earth Element to our benefit. Most of our efforts to protect or improve our well-being will naturally be centered in this area. Everything we can do to surround ourselves with the beauty and harmony of nature, to enjoy fresh, wholesome food, balance exercise with relaxation and create a healthful, enjoyable living space will enhance the influences of the Earth Element in our life.

Breath is the healing power of the Air Element.  Breathing is exceptional in that it is both an automatic and a voluntary capacity of our bodies; it connects the conscious and the unconscious. Breathing methods are of unique value in healing and can do more for truly deep healing than most people ever imagine. 

Through the Water Element we can learn about and use subtle energies. Subtle energies bathe our bodies all the time; they infuse the environment wherever we are and we can learn to use that. They flow, refresh and sparkle like bubbling streams. If the energies around us are dulled by industrial materials and chemical outgassing, the Water Element can help us cleanse and renew them.

The Fire Element, in healing, is the light of our mind. Conscious awareness and intent are always a part of every healing practice. Our wishes, our invocations, our visualizations and blessings are the link that connects us to the Fifth Element of the Pentacle, Spirit. With body, breath, energy, directed awareness and spiritual power we can coordinate and direct an integrated and truly holistic experience of healing.

Some Rites for Solitaries

by Ian Elliott   March 3^rd, 2015

(Note that the pentacle can be an inscribed disk of wood or stone, or else a special stone, such as a fossil; but in the latter case it should be semi-discoid in shape, and sufficiently flat so objects may be laid on it stably. [1] The pentacle should be consecrated first.)

Consecration of Magical Weapons:

Consecration of the Wand

Pass [2] the wand through the incense smoke thrice, say:

May this wand be pure.  May all its impurities be burned away, carried away on the incense-smoke. [3]

Pass [4] the wand through the fire (fire element candle), say:

Now through the fires of purification I pass this wand, where both past and present are burnt away. 

Sprinkle the wand with water thrice, say:

With the waters of time and forgetfulness I wash away the ashes of past and present.  Now this wand is ready to serve a new purpose.

  

Next lay the wand on the pentacle, say:

Now I ground this wand in the earth, womb of the Mother.   From her womb comes life, which when held within this wand shall be power to call and dismiss Quarters and all lesser beings attracted to my rites.  Now by her womb this wand becomes an instrument of my understanding. 

Breathe on the wand thrice, say:

As life is breathed into me, so do I breathe my life into you, in the name of the Lady be it so.

Hold the wand up before the candle of the Lady, look at the wand, say:

I name thee [name wand]

You must talk to your wand regularly, calling it by its name.  Its name should have special meaning for you, and be connected with an appropriate figure or place.  The scenes and stories connected with the name of the wand constitute its pedigree.

Consecration of the Athame

Pass the athame through the incense smoke thrice, say:

May this athame be pure.  May all its impurities be burned away, carried away on the incense-smoke.

Pass the athame through the fire (fire element candle) thrice, say:

Now through the fires of purification I pass this athame, where both past and present are burnt away. 

Sprinkle the athame with water thrice, say:

  

With the waters of time and forgetfulness I wash away the ashes of past and present.  Now this athame is ready to serve a new purpose.

Lay the athame on the pentacle, say:

Now I ground this athame in the earth, womb of the Mother.  From her womb comes life, which when held within this blade shall be power to charge the wine and direct the power raised in the Circle.  Now by her womb this athame becomes an instrument of my will. 

Breathe on the athame thrice, say:

As life is breathed into me, so I breathe my life into this athame.  In the name of the Lady, be it so.

Hold the athame up before the candle of the Lady, look at the athame, say:

I name thee [name athame]

You must talk to your athame regularly, calling it by its name.  Its name should have special meaning for you, and be connected with an appropriate figure or place.  The scenes and stories connected with the name of the athame constitute its pedigree.

Consecration of the Cup

Pass the cup through the incense smoke thrice, say:

May this cup be pure.  May all its impurities be burned away, carried away on the incense-smoke.

Pass the cup through (or above) the fire (fire element candle) thrice, say:

Now through the fires of purification I pass this cup, where both past and present are burnt away. 

  

Sprinkle the cup with water thrice, say:

With the waters of time and forgetfulness I wash away the ashes of past and present.  Now this cup is ready to serve a new purpose.

Lay the cup on the pentacle, say:

Now I ground this cup in the earth, womb of the Mother.  From her womb comes life, which when held within this vessel shall be power to receive the spell into the astral realm, whence it will rebound on the material basis.  Now by her womb this cup becomes an instrument of my daring. 

Breathe on the cup thrice, say:

As life is breathed into me, so I breathe my life into this cup.  In the name of the Lady, be it so.

Hold the cup up before the candle of the Lady, look at the cup, say:

I name thee [name cup]

You must talk to your cup regularly, calling it by its name.  Its name should have special meaning for you, and be connected with an appropriate figure or place.  The scenes and stories connected with the name of the cup constitute its pedigree.

Consecration of the Pentacle

Pass the pentacle through the incense smoke thrice, say:

May this pentacle be pure.  May all its impurities be burned away, carried away on the incense-smoke.

Pass the pentacle through (or above) the fire (fire element candle), say:

Now through the fires of purification I pass this pentacle, where both past and present are burnt away. 

Sprinkle the pentacle with water thrice, say:

With the waters of time and forgetfulness I wash away the ashes of past and present.  Now this pentacle is ready to serve a new purpose.

Next lay the pentacle in an earth-filled dish, say:

Now I ground this pentacle in the earth, womb of the Mother.   From her womb comes life, which when held within this pentacle shall be power to pull the will through the astral cup and ground both in the material basis of the spell, establishing the magical link.  Now by her womb this pentacle becomes an instrument of my silence. 

Breathe on the pentacle thrice, say:

As life is breathed into me, so do I breathe my life into you, in the name of the Lady be it so.

Hold the pentacle up before the candle of the Lady, look at the pentacle, say:

I name thee [name pentacle]

You must talk to your pentacle regularly, calling it by its name.  Its name should have special meaning for you, and be connected with an appropriate figure or place.  The scenes and stories connected with the name of the pentacle constitute its pedigree.

Rite of Purification and Dedication:

Best performed at night.

1. Take a ritual bath:

Materials:  Candles, salt (sea salt is best) in a dish.

Light the candle, say: Honor to Fire.

Turn off all other lights.  Begin filling the tub.  Taking the dish of salt in the receptive hand, pour some salt into the palm of the projective hand.  Hold it at the heart, fling it into the bathwater, say:

I purify by the Maiden.

Pour more salt into palm of the projective hand, hold it by the heart and fling into the bathwater, say:

I consecrate by the Mother to [name quality, such as balance]

Pour more salt into palm of the projective hand, hold it by the heart and fling into the bathwater, say:

I charge by the Crone.

Pour more salt into palm of the projective hand, hold it by the heart and fling into the bathwater.  Say nothing.  This cast is for the Dark Moon.

Bathe leisurely, getting thoroughly clean.  When finished, stand and thank the water elementals thus:

I thank Nicksa and the undines for [name the quality, such as balance]

Step out of the bath and towel dry, then say:

Honor to the Maiden, honor to the Mother, honor to the Crone, honor to [saying nothing, meaning the Dark Moon]

Snuff out the candle, say: Honor to Fire.

Meditate for a few moments.

2. Clean and straighten the temple.

3. Light the circle candles, begin in the East and proceed deosil

(clockwise), ending in the North.  Bow to the East.  Light the cross-quarter candles on a separate pass if between Yule and Ostara (the spring equinox). 

4. Bring in salt, water in a ewer, a bowl, sage and a holder for sage.  Have athame ready to mix salt and water.  Have hand bell ready.

5. Ring hand bell thrice.

6. Pour water from ewer into bowl.

7.Tip salt with tip of athame into bowl of water thrice, stirring with point of athame. 

8. Place index and long finger of projective hand together and dip into salt water, say:

With the power of the Sea that washes the shores, I am purified. [5]

Anoint forehead between brows with invoking pentacle of Earth.

9. Repeat 8 above, anointing lips in same fashion.

10. Repeat 8 above, anointing heart in same fashion.

11.  Light the sage.  Wave the sacred smoke on the head and chest, pass it around the body thrice deosil, say:

May I be pure.  May all my impurities be burned away, carried away on the incense-smoke. [6]

12.  Circle the temple deosil, starting from the East.  Salute each Watcher in turn at the cardinal points with his special mudra. [7] Seal to the East to finish.

13.  Face the altar deities, say:

I dedicate myself this night to the service of the ancient Gods.  May that service be acceptable to them.

14.  Salute the altar deities with their mudras,[8] then extinguish the candles.  Begin in the East and extinguish the quarter candles deosil, sealing to the East.  Then, beginning in the Southeast, extinguish the cross-quarter candles if they were lit, sealing to the East again.  Extinguish the altar candles last.

15.  Ring the hand bell thrice.  Bow and withdraw from the Temple.

16. Meditate for a space.

17.  Return to the Temple and remove the salt and water.  Place the salt in the salt dish in the bathroom for future ritual baths.  Return the water to the Earth, say:

Return to the elements whence you came.

Candles:

The altar candles represent the Lady and Lord reigning at this particular time of year.  The Lady’s candles are white for the Maiden, red for the Mother, and black for the Crone.  The Lord’s candles are red for the Oak King (called Red Campion [champion] in folklore) and green for the Holly King. 

Where both candles are red, a single red candle may be used.   The altar candles should be large and thick.  As the high priest/ess faces east, the Lady candle should be to the left of the center of the altar, that is on the northern side, and the Lord candle to the right or on the southern side of the center.  There should be a small space between the two.  The colors of the altar candles at different times of the sacred year are as follows:

Altar candles

From Yule to the day before Imbolc (winter solstice to March 31^st): Lord candle red in the center.

From Imbolc to the day before Beltane (Feb 1^st [9] to April 30^th): Lord candle red, Lady candle white.

From Beltane to Midsummer Eve (May 1^st to the night before the summer solstice): One red candle in the center for the Lord and Lady together.

During the Midsummer Eve rite, the Holly King replaces the Oak King.  This is signified, among other ways, by changing the altar candles: Lord candle green, Lady candle red.

From Midsummer to Lammas (Lughnasadh) Eve (July 31^st): Lord candle green, Lady candle red.

At midnight on Lammas (Lughnasadh) Eve, the Lady becomes the Crone: Lord candle green, Lady candle black.

From Lammas (Lughnasadh) day (August 1^st) to Samhain (October 31^st): Lord candle green, Lady candle black.

At midnight on Samhain, the Lady goes to the Summerland to rest during the winter; this is signified by, among other acts, the removal of the black candle at midnight.

The day after Samhain (November 1^st) to Yule eve (the night before the winter solstice): Lord candle green, by itself in the center of the altar.

At midnight on Yule eve, the Oak King is reborn and defeats the Holly King.  This is signified by, among other acts, the replacement of the red for the green candle in the center of the altar.

Quarter and Cross-quarter candles

The old Celtic colors are as follows:

East: red for the break of day.

South: white for the noontide hour.

West: twilight grey.

North: black, for the Place of Power.

Quarter candles should be tall tapers.

Cross-quarter candles should be cup candles, and can be a uniform green or white.  They are lit only between Yule and Ostara, the spring equinox.

Mudras:

Mudras are ritual gestures used in saluting various deities and demigods or nymphs.  They engage the body of the witch in the rite, allowing him or her to make a more personal social gesture towards the divine than simple bowing would do.

The mudras for the Lady and the Lord are taken from Celtic Wicca but derive originally from the Italian witchcraft tradition, known as stregheria. 

The Lady: The Lady is saluted with the mano en fica, the sign of the fig, a symbol of the vagina.  Hold both hands towards the Lady candle, palms forward, fingers folded over.  Thrust the thumb up between the index and middle fingers.  This is the ‘fig’. [10] The Lady should be saluted before the Lord.

The Lord: Salute the Lord with the mano en cornuta, the sign of the horns.  Hold the palms forward towards the Lord candle, with the index and little fingers upright, forming the ‘horns’.  Make a circle with the thumb and the middle and ring fingers. [11]

The mudras for the Watchers (in stregheria, the Grigori) are taken directly from stregheria, as presented by Raven Grimassi in his Italian Witchcraft. 

The East: The Watcher of the East (Paralda in ceremonial magic, Alpeno in stregheria) is saluted by extending the arms out to the side, palms down.

The South: The Watcher of the South (Djinn in ceremonial magic, Settrano in stregheria) is saluted by extending the arms upward at a forty-five degree angle, with the palms forward.

The West: The Watcher of the West (Nicksa in ceremonial magic, Meana in stregheria) is saluted by placing both hands across the belly, palms up, the left hand over the right.

The North: The Watcher of the North (Ghom or Ghob in ceremonial magic, Taga or Tages in stregheria) is saluted by simply letting the arms hang down at the sides, the fingers unfolded, the palms facing backwards. [12]

              BIBLIOGRAPHY

CROWTHER, Patricia, Lid off the Cauldron; A Wicca Handbook, York Beach,

Me, Samuel Weiser. Inc., 1992.

GRIMASSI, Raven, Italian Witchcraft; The Old Religion of Southern

Europe, St. Paul, MN, Llewellyn Publications, 2000.

SERITH, Ceisiwr, A Book of Pagan Prayer, Boston Ma, York Beach, Me,

Samuel Weiser, 2002.

VALIENTE, Doreen, Witchcraft for Tomorrow, Custer, Washington, Phoenix

          Press, 1987.

---

[1] For the design of the pentacle, see Valiente, Doreen, Witchcraft for Tomorrow, p. 167.

[2] Hold tip of wand about 3 inches above the incense burner or joss stick.  Pass tip downward in a vertical circle through the smoke deosil three times, ending at the upper point again.

[3] Based on Serith, Ceisiwr, A Book of Pagan Prayer, p. 31.

[4] Begin with the point of the wand to the left of the tip of the flame, then swing it down swiftly through that tip and back up to the corresponding point on its right; then back to the left again in the same manner.  Repeat twice.

[5] Serith, Ceisiwr, Op. cit., p. 31.

[6] Ibid.

[7] See section on Mudras below.

[8] See section on Mudras below.

[9] Many modern covens celebrate Imbolc on Feb 2^nd, but this is a christianized date.  The pagans celebrated it on Feb 1^st.

[10] Crowther, Patricia, Lid off the Cauldron, p. 103.

[11] Ibid.

[12] Grimassi, Raven, Italian Witchcraft, p. 69.

The Magic Theatre of Witchcraft

                                          by Ian Elliott   

Introduction:

The rites of witchcraft, whether performed alone or with others, are a form of magic theatre.  One goes to them not to sit in the audience but to participate in the performance.  Audiences can arrive tired, perhaps somewhat dispirited, prepared to relax and, if possible, receive some form of uplift from the spectacle.  This is not the case with performers; they must be vigorous, well-balanced in their energies, with energies pitched high and practically electric.  The rite itself should, if performed well, both deepen and further heighten those energies, but one goes to the magic theatre to give and share energy rather than to be lifted out of some swale of ennui.

To call witchcraft a magical theatre means that practical results are secondary.  This is at variance with many accounts of witchcraft, which emphasize the desired result to be attained, even though one is cautioned that such results should be forgotten at the conclusion of the spell.  The double-bind of forgetting is avoided in this approach, which sees the magic circle as neither primarily religious nor as an act of collective engineering, but as art.  A concert performance is directed towards the production of music, but the musicians are not producing music as workmen produce things, instead uniting with the music and with each other in music.  There is no separation between them and the music they make, or which makes itself through them, as there may be separation between an artisan and his artifact.  The same is, or should be, true of the art of magical theatre.  The theatre is not the place where the rite occurs, nor the script followed, nor even the objects employed in the rite; it is the act of creating the rite, in all its perceptible beauty, united with the persons creating it.  For this reason, needless to say, one must memorize any scripts before attempting to perform the rites pertaining to them.  But this is only partly feasible, in view of the tendency of witchcraft rites to have a lot to say.

Though the emphasis should be on art, this does not exclude the sacred.  Indeed, we should recall that theatre began in a sacred setting, as picaresque rites to Dionysus; and in this connection we should note that Pagan religion can be quite picaresque without losing one whit of the sacred. The use of salacious language in ancient rites of marriage, preparation for the mysteries, and sacred theatre, had as its main purpose to offend and thus drive off spirits of infertility, who were known to be great prudes.  This perhaps gives us a key to understanding the nature of antipagan deities, who insist on excluding such behavior from their own sacred rites.  If we can incorporate this element of ribaldry in our own circle rituals, we shall succeed in drawing nearer to the spirit of the old religions.

Pagan Belief:

In ancient religion, stress was laid on performing the rites, not on repeating credal formulations of belief over and over until the mind is hypnotized by words.  So long as one respected the gods and observed their rites, one was free to entertain a wide variety of beliefs about the origin of the world, life after death, and so forth.  Beliefs that insulted the deities were, naturally, excluded, but this left one with a great deal of freedom to believe what one liked, and to change one’s beliefs if one were so inclined.  Pagans tended to be a little vague about such matters, for belief per se was not regarded as particularly important.  What did the gods care what a mortal thought, so long as he or she was pious?  Not a whit.

Performing sacred rites induces a certain atmosphere of suspended disbelief.  This was the general attitude to the myths (which were originally not separate from ritual).  Even Socrates remarked that the traditional tale was good enough for him; he was more interested in ethical matters anyway.  The proper attitude to take into ritual is a readiness to act towards the focus of the rite as if the god or goddess exists.  That is all that is required: not to doubt, and to behave towards the object of prayer as if that being were real. 

This should be good news to modern witches and other neopagans, for they need not try to work up the intensity of belief characteristic of antipagan religions.  Indeed, if they try to approach the Circle like church, they will soon become exhausted, and conclude that paganism is too complicated and therefore too hard to practice.  It is not hard at all, if we bear in mind that we are about to participate in sacred theatre. 

The Temple:

The temple of witchcraft is built up partly from sacred objects, partly from ritual movement and acts, and partly from visualization.  All three elements work together to create the real illusion of a spherical temple.  A real illusion is defined here as an object-event that is experienced and has real effects, even if it is not amenable to outside scientific observation and measurement.  Another example of a real illusion is the aura of energy enfolding the bodies of lovers which is both felt and seen by them but only them.

The sacred objects which go into a temple are various but there are certain objects of central importance that are present on every occasion.  These include candles of various sizes and colors, incense and an incense burner, chalice, fossil stone or pentacle, magical weapons or tools, a bell, a salt censer, and various auxiliary items such as a water ewer, matches, an ashtray, cakes and ale, cushions for sitting around the altar, and of course the altar itself.  This list is not exhaustive.

The form of the temple itself, a sphere, is largely visualized through a series of ritual acts.  The equator of the sphere is marked out on the floor or ground by eight candles, set at the quarter and cross-quarter points of the compass.  The equator, or circumference of the circle, is generally nine feet in diameter.  Directly overhead, over the center of the circle, is the zenith or ‘height’ of the sphere.  This is visualized partly through the sweeping of miasma – old, stale energy – from the circle before it is cast by the use of a besom.  The besom is used to sweep the circle three times deosil (that is, clockwise), beginning in the east and finishing in the east again.  The first time around the besom sweeps at ground level; the second time at shoulder level, and the third time, at a forty-five degree angle above shoulder level, pointing upward.  This helps the coveners to visualize the upper parts of the sphere, and the zenith is established in the mind’s eye by acts of pointing straight upward using the athame. 

In the same way, the nadir of the sphere or ‘the deep’ is visualized by the act of pointing down with the athame, and later by the act of raising energy when building the Cone of Power.  The lower half of the sphere is an act of pure visualization, since the floor or ground presents the lower limit of the sphere so far as outward vision is concerned.  Each witch visualizes the lower hemisphere based on his or her experience in meditation, for the witch descends into his or her depths in meditation instead of ascending to the heights.  In this way, a witch becomes intimately aware of his or her lower levels of subconscious feelings and urges.  It is the aim of the Craft to raise the energy trapped at the lower levels into the full light of consciousness, both in meditation and in the raising of the Cone of Power.

The altar is generally placed in the center of the circle, though in some traditions it is placed in the north.  The advantage to having it in the center is that this helps the coveners to visualize the axis of the sphere, which passes through the center of the circle, up through the center of the altar, all the way to the height, connecting the height with the deep.  The axis is magically connected with the World Pillar (or trunk of the World Tree), round which the heavens revolve in pagan cosmology.  It is also magically cognate with the spine of each witch present.  The energy of the deep is raised through this axis, which is perceived as identical with the spine of each witch at the crucial moment.

Background of the Circle:

The spherical temple of  Witchcraft finds an ancient prototype in the description of a temple or hall of the Magi in Babylon in the first century C.E..  The description is by Damis, the secretary of the pagan mystic and wonder-worker Apollonius of Tyana, and was gotten second-hand from his master.  Apollonius was traveling east to India in search of arcane wisdom, with an aim to restoring the temples of the West to their original purity.  He lingered in Babylon for 18 months, conferring with the Median priests there, whom he described as “wise, but not in all things.”  As a non-initiate, Damis could not enter the temple.  Here is its description:

“The roof was dome-shaped, and the ceiling was covered with ‘sapphire’; in this blue heaven were models of the heavenly bodies (‘those whom they regard as Gods’) fashioned in gold, as though moving in the ether.  Moreover from the roof were suspended four golden ‘Iygges’ which the Magi call the ‘Tongues of the Gods.’  These were winged wheels or spheres connected with the idea of Adrasteia, or Fate.”  [1]

Mead goes on to identify the Iygges with the teachers of early humanity of Hebrew legend.  They are intermediaries between humanity and the greater gods as well as tutors.  In these qualities they resemble the Watchers of modern witchcraft, as that concept has developed in a number of traditions.  The Watchers sponsor the initiate from the first degree onwards, and through the elementals provide him or her with the energies of elemental Air, Fire, Water and Earth.  But the witch must cultivate this connection with the four Quarters and their inhabitants in order to grow in the Craft. 

The temple of witchcraft, though physically only a circle, is visualized as a sphere by the ritualists.   This visualization transforms the cast circle into a magical theatre, in which the powerful energies of the elements are added to the raised and combined powers of the witches present and directed to some constructive purpose.  In what follows I will present one particular way of raising the temple into the magical theatre, and of building up and releasing the Cone of Power.  There are many variations, but the particular method presented engages, or so I think, all the essential elements of the process.

Raising the Cone of Power:

Everyone and everything used in witchcraft must go through phases of purification, consecration and charging.  This begins with the witches themselves, who first cleanse themselves individually of miasma, that is, of stale energy connected with everyday concerns.  Next, the witches  purify themselves as a group, settling any differences (as least provisionally) between themselves and finally join hands in a circle to share bioenergy.   Meanwhile, the physical temple is erected.

The ringing of a hand-bell signals the inception of sacred time, and summons the witches to the temple.  They come in quietly and, moving sunwise around the altar, take their stations.  The time signaled and begun by the ringing of the bell is the time of the beginning, for this is a new world about to be created between the everyday world we know and the Otherworld of spirits.  The sea of Chaos lies between and underneath all worlds. [2]  Some of that chaos is about to be ordered into a cosmos, which though physically small will be complete in all the essentials of an ordered habitation.

Attention is now directed to the altar, where one or two large candles are lit in the center to honor the Lord and Lady and connect with their energy.  The elemental tools and magical weapons are purified and consecrated.  The chalice is filled.   The candles are lit round the circumference of the circle. [3]  The temple area is swept, asperged and censed.  There is a general feeling of anticipation, for the next step is to build the magical theatre.

First the circle is cast, from East sunwise to East again, by a priest or priestess with his or her athame.  This is a crucial moment for all present, for all must follow the casting with rapt attention, visualizing the bluish-silver light spilling from the tip of the athame along the perimeter of the circle.  It is not enough, though, to visualize the circling tip of light; the whole illumined circumference must be seen and retained as it grows to a full circle.  Thereafter, it must be kept in peripheral view throughout the rite.  It is this act that lays the foundation for the magical theatre.  Next, the quarters are called to the four cardinal points of the circle, again beginning and ending in the East and processing sunwise.   

Because the purpose of the rite is to effect change in the everyday world through the launching of a thought-form into the Otherworld of spirit, the energies raised within the circle must be augmented by the elemental energies of beings who remain outside the circle but who supercharge the energy of the raised Cone of Power through the four cardinal portals.   These powers also guard the portals and the integrity of the temple boundary from unwanted intrusion and from collapsing when the Cone of Power is released.  These wards, the Watchers and elementals, are next called to their stations on the cardinal points.  They are beckoned and invited to perch, as it were, on the portals, which are both doors to the temple and inlets for their more highly-charged energies.  The more sensitive witches may begin to feel a sort of throb along the circumference of the circle, like the pounding of surf.

Next the Lady and Lord are invited in and reside in the large candles at the center of the altar.  Now the pillar or axis of this little “world between the worlds” is visualized as passing up through the center of the altar between the Lady and Lord and extending from the nadir to the zenith of the spherical temple. [4] As the witches join hands and circle the temple slowly, the Pillar is visualized as revolving, from the polarity between the Lady and Lord.  The circling is slow at first as the High Priest or High Priestess states the magical purpose of the rite.  This purpose is then summed up in a word, which is repeated by the witches as they circle. 

The pace now picks up as the High Priest/ess recites a Witches’ Mill:

“On an oak-leaf I stand

 I ride the filly that never was foaled

 And I carry the dead in my hand

 Under the earth I go.” [5]

Each witch in turn takes a line and the mill is recited three times as they circle.

High Priest/ess then calls out the one-word magical purpose again and witches repeat it while circling a little faster.  It is repeated three times and then witches fall silent as they circle, each one visualizing an image to stand for the purpose.  After a moment, High Priest/ess begins the Witches’ Rune, two troubadour discoveries from the 12^th or 13^th century:

“Bagahi laca bachahe

 Lamac cahi achabahe

 Karrelyos

 Lamac lamec Bachalyos,

 Cabohagi Sabalyos,

 Baryolas

 Lagozatha cabyolas,

 Samahac et famyolas,

 Harrahya!” [6]

Witches repeat the rune three times, circling a little faster.

High Priest/ess immediately goes into the second part of the Rune, picking up the pace which now approaches the maximum speed consistent with safety:

“Eko eko Azerak,

 Eko eko Zomelak

 Zod ru koz e zod ru koo

 Zod ru goz e goo roo moo

 Eeo eeo hoo hoo hoo!” [7]

This is likewise repeated three times by the witches, at the end of which they stop, throw up their hands with the last “hoo!”, and each mentally projects his or her visual image of the magical purpose upward through the zenith.  At the same time, each witch mentally releases his or her gaze of the Watchers and their eyes.  A whoosh results, the release of the elemental energy at the cardinal points upward and inward to the zenith of the circle.  There it joins the uprush of witches’ energy, directed by the uprushing column of the World Pillar, and all join at the apex of the Cone of Power, which is then released through the portal of the height, at the temple’s zenith, the summit of the magical theatre. 

After releasing the Cone of Power, witches drop to their hands and knees to release any leftover energy back into the Earth.  Then all resume their stations and cakes and ale are passed around, as well as water, with some of each left over to be returned into the ground following the dissolution of the Circle.  Coveners sit quietly in fellowship with each other and the Lord and Lady, Watchers and elementals and any other beings attracted to the rite.  The Circle is now just a circle; the magic theatre is closed.  Spirits and helpers are dismissed, the Lord and Lady thanked for their presence.  The high priest/ess cuts the circumference of the Circle at its southwestern point and announces that the rite is ended.  The hand-bell is rung three times once more, signaling the end of sacred time.  Coveners go outside and return what remains of the water, cakes and ale to the ground.  The candles are snuffed out and the temple is disassembled, in reverse order to that in which it was assembled in the beginning.

---

[1] G.R.S. Mead, Apollonius of Tyana, pp 84-5.

[2] “World” is understood in the ancient sense as a cosmos or ordered habitation in space-time, not necessarily a planet.

[3] Or sometimes after the circle is cast, with the calling of Quarters.

[4] At certain times of year, when there is only one candle, the axis of the temple is visualized as rising through it.

[5] From Nigel Jackson, Call of the Horned Piper. p.  22 et passim.

[6] Farrar, Janet & Stewart, Eight Sabbats for Witches, p. 44.  Often misquoted, this troubadour chant can be viewed in manuscript in an illustration in plate 8 of Farrar, The Witches’ Way. 

[7] Recorded in a footnote by Doreen Valiente to Janet and Stewart Farrar’s Eight Sabbats for.Witches, p. 45.