Honouring the Seasons of My Craft (Even When It's Hard & I Donโt Want To)
Authorโs Note: The content of this blog reflects my personal experiences and perspectives on magic. Witchcraft is a deeply individual practice, and my approach may not align with everyoneโs beliefs or traditions. I encourage readers to explore, question, and adapt what resonates with them. Nothing shared here is meant to serve as absolute truth or professional advice. Trust your intuition, do your own research, and walk your own path.
Lately, Iโve been working to honour the subtle rhythms Iโve noticed in my magical life. I have previously written about the cycles of movement and rest, of outward working and inward tending that have come to my attention recently. For a long time, I didnโt recognise the pattern. I expected my practice to always look a certain way: busy, hands-on, productive. And I did my best to hold it to that standard, to keep it in that state; feeling like a failure when I wasnโt able to maintain that energy. But Iโve begun to see that my witchcraft has seasons of its own.
Iโve come to understand that spring and summer are, for me, slower, more inward-facing times. These months invite (or rather command) reflection, healing, divination, and communion with spirit. Theyโre not necessarily for doing, theyโre for listening. And while thereโs peace in that realisation, thereโs also immense struggle.
I miss the making. I miss the spellcraft and the messy work of charm-building and physical magic. That kind of tactile connectionโherbs under my nails and wax on my fingersโfeels like home. But lately, the more Iโve resisted that pull and allowed myself to sink into the quieter work of spiritual tending, the more connected I feel to my practice. Iโm finding a depth Iโve been aching for.
Loathe as I am to admit it, honouring this inward season has opened space for things Iโd often push aside when my craft was more outward-facing. Iโve had the time, and the presence of mind, to truly dive into research projects, to start writing a course, to read more books, and to deepen my study of folklore and magical history. That quieter, thoughtful rhythm has drawn me closer to the spirit world too, which is something I often struggle with this time of year. Iโm learning that stillness and study can be a kind of devotion all their ownโa way of listening that builds a bridge to the unseen.
So yes, I know Iโm on the right path. I can feel it. But itโs still hard.
Itโs hard to feel like Iโm not โdoingโ enough. Hard to feel like Iโm not producing visible, magical results. But Iโm reminding myself that rest is part of the rhythm. That listening, healing, dreaming, and divining are witchcraft too. They are the slow, unseen growth beneath the surface.
Right now, my work is with my own spirit. And while that might not satisfy the part of me that wants to make and build and cast, itโs anchoring me more deeply into the kind of witch I truly amโone who honours the cycles, even when they challenge me.
