Magic for Invisibility


The other day I read a statement from someone just beginning the path of Wicca. She seemed to be wavering about her participation. She had been told during her life that she had certain “gifts” and could see other realities. But she sounded afraid of the “gifts.” She wasn’t sure if her Craft participation was something that was “right,” and she further seemed to be deeply troubled about whether or not it was “right” to let her powers “come out.” She was speaking from a perspective that sounded as though she was seeing magic and the abilities cultivated in our path to be something forbidden, exotic, strange and rare.


It made me realize that the more we enshrine our natural abilities, no matter their form, we end up separating ourselves from the world. Nothing that occurs in the world, as a course of our nature is special in any way. The more we are caught up in either fearing or rarifying what is natural, we miss the point of our power, which is expressed as our true nature. The true nature of a human life is nothing “special.” Is it a manifestation of deity? Yes. But so is everything else we can see, hear, taste, touch and smell. Magic is deity. Your coffee is deity. Flowers and excrement are deity. We’re living in it, breathing it, eating it, sleeping in it, and we’re made up of it.

The powers of the Witch are the natural power of life…

When an experience catches out attention, what is important is to notice why it catches our attention, rather than mentally framing the experience as “special, strange, rare and peculiar.” Bringing the event back to ourselves, to our own inner process, helps us to break down the structures (made up of life experiences) that keep us chained to mental habits that ultimately disempower us. Are the powers of the Witch special? No. They are the manifestation of a realized life. They are the evidence of living life in close unison with all, which means barriers such as the mental-label barriers (including terms like “special,” “not special,” “better,” “worse,” etc.) are rendered invisible. The powers of the Witch are the natural power of life flowing though us moment by moment, unblocked, not rarified, feared or glorified.

sixth pentacle fo the sun

The Spell

I offer this magical working to help us notice and calm that part of us that wants to stand out, that wants to be noticed as different, rare, strange and peculiar. It is a spell and a protection to help us notice in each moment that all things are of the same source. I am using a pentacle from the Key of Solomon for this spell. We are only using this pentacle as an object to focus our intention, rather than the traditional use of the pentacles. You can find the pentacle anywhere online if you want a cleaner copy than the one I post here.

What You’ll Need:
A copy of the 6th Pentacle of the Sun (just copy and paste from this post)

Dragon’s Blood Reed (as an incense)

Incense burner and a self-igniting charcoal

Your regular circle casting tools

During the dark of the moon, print out a copy of the 6th Pentacle of the Sun. Cast a circle using your own circle casting technique, or the one I offer in Wicca: A Year and A Day. Place the image on your central altar. Sprinkle it lightly with your blessed water and salt mixture. Sprinkle some of the Dragon’s Blood Reed on the charcoal (make sure the coal is really hot all the way through; it should be slightly ashy on the edges). Bless the image in the twisting incense smoke. Hold the image between your palms and vow to live your life as one with all of nature. See yourself becoming transparent, like clear, rushing water. Imagine yourself as water, joining the whole of the ocean, merging, dissipating, holding all potential within you. Open your eyes and close the circle. Carry the charm with you and remind yourself each moment of your intention to live in unison with each moment–not fearing it or glorifying it. Instead, just be life.


Opening Magical Channels

Witches Dance

Someone once asked me, “What exactly are you teaching?” I was a bit shocked that someone might ask such a question of an author who has dedicated himself to teaching the Craft of the Wise. But as the question settled—and I considered its source—I began to ask myself a question in meditation, similar to the stark question posed by a casual onlooker, but also unique. The question I sat with was: “What is this?”

It’s a good question to begin asking yourself in your own meditations. As you ask the question, inhale, and hold it for a second at the level of the solar plexus chakra. “What is this?” Don’t seek an immediate answer, because that’s just your head talking. You want a response that goes deeper. You want the whole body to resonate with this question—and then ultimately respond in a way that illuminates, sheds light on your magical path, and frees up channels of energy.

Don’t seek an immediate answer, because that’s just your head talking…

That’s really the point of the meditative inquiry process that I propose in both Wicca: A Year and A Day, as well as its companion volume, Wicca: the Second Degree. It isn’t to make you good at mediation. It isn’t to pose silly questions. It’s to make you good at your life. It’s to open up previously choked up channels of magical power. So often, we live unconsciously in ways that are dictated by habit, convenience, and a deep need for pleasure. Nothing wrong with any of those motivations—as long as they don’t interfere with your spiritual progress.

The problem is that these habitual patterns actually do get in our way—whether or not we choose to acknowledge this. Habit actions might make us comfortable, because they’re familiar. But they are not powerful channels of magical energy. Magic just gets stuck, blocked, ineffective and “murky” when we, ourselves, become caught up in relying on them for responding to every situation in our lives. The process of meditative inquiry moves our blocked energies around—almost like how acupuncture moves Chi around the body. The process wakes us up. And the responses we uncover by asking a question and listening deeply frequently startles us into new, brave actions. It changes our consciousness. And that, as Dion Fortune would say, is magic.

From my forthcoming work–Wicca: Another Year and A Day


The “meaning” of life takes place on a much larger scale than our own personal lives. Our lives are just a momentary speck. They are the most recent manifestation of a long lineage of consciousness expressing itself in endless forms. Once your life is finished, another takes its place and continues to express this impersonal flow long into an unfathomable future.

They are the most recent manifestation of a long lineage of consciousness expressing itself in endless forms.

The same immense, powerful, vast and impersonal tide of energy that gives birth to solar systems and swallows them up in black holes, also gives birth to the temporary forms that we inhabit. Life must fulfill itself. When we become dissatisfied and unhappy, it is because our own “personalized” version of life is not occurring as we “want it to happen.” Thus, on a small scale, we impede the vast and impersonal flow of this force and attempt to make things happen according to our individual plans. To live a more fulfilled existence, we must detach from this Alchemy2notion that “its all about me,” and live our lives as agents of this unknowable flow that manifests as just this moment.

Living Lughnasadh


There’s an old saying that goes something like this: “If you’re falling, you might as well dive.” It sounds simple, but it isn’t easy to do. What this saying implies is for us to meet the moment head-on; to do what life requires of us, despite our own ideas about the requisites. When it rains, take out your umbrella. When something funny happens, laugh. When someone needs help, reach out a hand. But we don’t live like that. If you’re like most people, when you meet the moment, you think things through, you judge and weigh your options. You consider the people involved and decide if they are worthy of your efforts. You project your thoughts into the past and the future to see if whatever the moment needs right now is “appropriate.”

When it rains, take out your umbrella. When something funny happens, laugh. When someone needs help, reach out a hand.

As children we throw ourselves into life wholeheartedly. We leave nothing out. We live this way until we meet our school friends that teach us that some things are worth doing and others not. We learn how to edit what we say and what we do. We learn what people are “in” and which ones are “out.” We learn how to “fit in” no matter what the cost, the damage to our souls, or the harm we inflict on others. In essence, we practice living our lives protecting our egos. We separate from life and its requirements and learn to act in ways that create lasting harm to the world around us. We learn to live out of synch with life, with our instincts. We learn to live from a humming core of fear. We learn to only serve ourselves.

Lughnasadh (pronounced loo-NAH-suh) is the Gaelic word for the pre-Christian harvest festival that focused on the bounty of the first reaping. It is the first of three harvest festivals in the pagan wheel of the year, the second being Fall Equinox, and the third is Samhain. The rites of Lughnasadh center around the harvesting of grain, understanding that the killing of life also means the sustaining of life. One of the most basic motifs in world mythology and ritual is that of coming into harmony with the realization that life must feed on itself. When we see this fact clearly, it is difficult to live in harmony with it.

cauldron smallerSo what do we do? Do we shun reality? In some spiritual traditions, for example among the Jains of India, the goal is to not participate in the self-feeding fire of life. They take great care not to ingest living things and avoid killing animals or plants for food. They wear cloth over their noses and mouths to prevent accidental inhalation of insects. The Jains’ response to the ever-burning fire of life is to extinguish it. Some might see these practices as an extreme, but they are certainly one valid set of responses to the horrific notion that we must kill in order to live.
Other traditions, such as those of the Upanishads, feed the fires of life.

…coming into harmony with the realization that life must feed on itself.

All of life is Agni, or fire, in their view. Food that they eat is fire (or energy). Food gives the body its fire/energy. The Upanishads rituals involving viewing food as a sacrifice; not to turn away from the realities of living, but to embrace them, meet the moment as it requires. In the Upanishads’ view, life is an ever burning fire that needs to be fed. If you’re falling, you might as well dive.

The same holds true in the view of contemporary pagans who see the grain (and other food we eat) as a willing sacrifice. But these ideas and the philosophies that buoy them extend far beyond the rites of harvesting. Lughnasadh encourages us to live our lives just as the grain to be harvested, doing what needs to be done, sacrificing our ideas and notions of life in order to actually live organically, vitally, presently.