Month: November 2023

animals, life

Puppies, Pies, and Paranormal Problems.

J.

You know, a lot of people go outside and play a game on Thanksgiving. Parents of younger kids might take them out for a rousing game of catch. Teens and adults might play a little touch football in the back yard. It’s pretty common.

It is less common to spend what feels like several hours pursuing a small, self-propelled football, while everyone involved is about a picosecond away from a collective panic attack.

I don’t have any family in the area. For a long time, neither of us did. Holiday meals were either made up of whatever we felt like cobbling together, whatever delivery place was open, or a smorgasbord of unrelated snacks, straight-up goblin-style.

My Handsome Assistant’s awesome aunt and uncle moved just a few hours away not long ago, so we’ve been spending more holidays there. They have a lovely house with a big yard and plenty of spare bedrooms, on a small, peaceful road surrounded by farms. Inside this house is a pair of adorable and very sweet Yorkie/toy fox terrier mixes, as well as a rather petulant ghost. Almost two petulant ghosts, but I’ll get to that in a minute.

This Thanksgiving, we made the drive up with a gallon of homemade meadowfoam mead and a vegan pumpkin pie (made using this recipe from Chocolate Covered Katie and some of our mysterious yard pumpkins).

Now, the older of the two dogs has a habit of running off. They’re both small enough that using an Invisible Fence would be problematic, so they’re carefully supervised and let outside in a movable pen.

All of this is a long way to explain that, through a convoluted set of circumstances involving a basement, a grill, and the Maryland Renaissance Festival, the older dog snuck out. He saw this as the opposite of a problem, since he had a house full of people (and eventually several neighbors and neighbors’ dogs) to play tag with. However, everyone else involved had… mixed feelings about the situation.

I don’t know how long I spent chasing that dog down, calling his name, running through strangers’ yards in hot pursuit of a football-sized creature in a little blue sweatshirt. The cold squeezed my wheezing lungs until the edges of my vision got gray and fuzzy. Eventually, everything looked like tiny dogs: gas meters, squirrels, shrubs. A few people offered me rides as they drove around looking for him, but I turned them down — it seemed like it’d be helpful to have someone on foot who could duck into even more strangers’ yards if need be.

He made it all the way down to the nearest main road and disappeared from view, so I ended up walking down the middle of the street just in case he darted out again. This seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do at the time, because my oxygen-deprived brain figured that speeding drivers would a) notice me sooner than they’d notice a tiny dog, and b) would probably slow down to avoid committing vehicular manslaughter. At that point, I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Doc Martens are less than ideal as a running shoe, so I also figured that being hit by a car would likely hurt less and I’d get to lie down for a little bit. Having been hit by a car before, this seemed sound to me.

Through some miracle, we all managed to tire him out. (Hey, humans are pursuit predators, right?) Four people formed a kind of pincer attack, and my Handsome Assistant performed some kind of acrobatic tackle and swoop maneuver that resulted in my Assistant on his back, one arm upraised, and a very upset tiny dog in his hand. Like a meatball sub with opinions.

Dog snared, we went back to the house. My lungs eventually calmed down enough for me to get a full breath again. There was ham, turkey, sausage, smoked vegetables, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, candied yams, and biscuits. There were also four kinds of pie and a cake.

We played a guessing game that was half charades, half “Name that Thing.” It involves writing down random words, putting them in a bowl, and drawing them out one by one. In the first round, the person reading can describe a word, but not say it, while their teammates guess. In the second round, the reader can only use gestures. In the third, the reader can only use one word.

In our defense, my Handsome Assistant and I didn’t originally know how this game worked when we were coming up with words. The game itself was hilarious, but you don’t know pressure until you have to figure out how to convey “imbroglio,” “Steven Seagal,” or “Azerbaijan” purely through interpretive dance.

A long, unanticipated aerobic session and eating my weight in potatoes and pumpkin pie made me sleepy, so after the Macy’s parade and Dolly Parton’s halftime show, I was ready for bed.

The bedroom, however, was not.

I’ll be honest with you; I’m used to being woken up multiple times a night. Kiko needs to eat special food and refuses to do so until and unless she has received tiny kisses on the forehead. Having my sleep interrupted is pretty much whatever at this point.

Nonetheless, there’s an enormous difference between being woken up by a tiny paw gently tapping my forehead, and the repeated crashes of something absolutely flinging the shit out of everything on the nightstand. It’s not like I placed a valuable and unsecured antique marble collection up there, either. There was no reason for anything to just… roll off. There was especially no reason for it to hit the floor like Tom Brady crawled out from under the bed just to spike it. Half of the time, I hadn’t even fallen back to sleep yet.

I wasn’t in the mood. I’d already missed seeing the Snoopy float, the absolutely bonkers amount of pie I’d eaten was giving me indigestion, and I had a blister on the back of my heel that was big enough to need its own social security number.

“Knock it the fuck off,” I grumbled, unaware of the irony of this statement. A mostly empty tube of lotion slammed down like… I don’t know. A thing that’s extremely extra affected by gravity. I pulled the pillow over my head.

Next year, I’m bringing my ghost box and a pair of jogging shoes.
I’m not getting caught out again.

Plants and Herbs

Cypress Folklore and Magical Properties

J.

I first started this post in January… of 2020.

A bald cypress in autumn. The needles are a vibrant read and very close to falling.

The reason it took so long was because I wanted to do the subject justice. Cypress trees are my favorite trees. I feel closer to them, and more power from them, than I do other trees. They’re sacred to me. I even have a glass pendant filled with slivers of lightning-struck bald cypress wood, and a pendulum made of a naturally fallen bald cypress’ knee.

Since the local bald cypresses have lived up to their names and done their trademark needle-shedding, I thought now would be a good time to dust this post off and finally finish it.

Cypress Magical Uses & Folklore

To the ancient Greeks, cypress trees had a tragic origin. Kyparissos was a youth who was beloved by Apollo. Apollo gave Kyparissos a beautiful tamed stag who accompanied the boy everywhere. Unfortunately, the stag was slumbering in the forest when the boy was out hunting, and he accidentally killed his stag with a hunting spear. Heartbroken, Kyparissos grieved so deeply that he transformed into a cypress tree.

The staff of Asklepios, the Greek God of Healing, was made of cypress wood. Though cypress does have some medicinal qualities, it’s likely that his staff used cypress less for its healing attributes, and more for its connections to immortality.

Sacrifices to Hades and Persephone were made under groves of cypress trees. Asklepios’ staff may have been a symbolic placation of the deities of the Underworld, so that they would not take his patients.

One of Athena’s names was “Lady of the Cypress.”

Bald cypresses are so named because they are deciduous. Every year, they shed their needles during the winter months.

Bald cypresses (Taxodium distichum, in the Cupressaceae family) are also unique in that they form “knees” — tall, knobbly growths that spring straight up from the trees’ roots. Nobody’s really sure why this happens, as the knees don’t appear to serve a particular purpose and removing them doesn’t seem to affect the trees negatively. They just kind of… happen. Some theories for cypress knees describe them as an adaptation for living in very wet environments, by helping to aerate the roots, provide an additional means of preventing erosion, or helping to stiffen and strengthen the root system.

Some cypress knees get pretty big. While they’re mostly conical in shape, they can be really irregular and knobby. It wasn’t uncommon for travelers, particularly those walking at night, to mistake them for other people or even monsters.

In general, cypresses are guardians of boundaries. Members of Cupressaceae are symbols of death, immortality, the afterlife, and liminal spaces. Their typically upright growth habit connects the earth to the sky, and they’re commonly planted on the borders of cemeteries. Kyparissos’ legend further associates these trees with death and grieving. Since these trees are evergreen, they are identified with the concepts of immortality and the afterlife as well.

I wasn’t able to find much information about Chinese cypress species, but the bit I did find suggests that cypress seeds were eaten to preserve longevity. In Japan, hinoki cypresses have a prominent place in Shinto rituals. Hinoki wood is used to start ritual fires, as well as to make the priests’ scepters.

A close up of a cluster of green cypress cones.

Though bald cypresses are native to America, they still connect to similar concepts as their Middle Eastern, European, and Asian counterparts. Though they resemble evergreen conifers, they shed their needles every year — a symbolic death and rebirth. They also grow where the water meets the land, which is another liminal space.

According to Persian legend, a cypress tree was the first tree to grow in Paradise. It’s evergreen leaves and extremely durable and rot-resistant wood made it a fitting symbol for immortality.

Cypress motifs are frequently used to decorate graves and tombs. You can see this on Christian graves, and in abstract depictions on Turkish Muslim tombs as well.

Some sources claim that Indigenous American peoples believed that cypress trees had a connection to the spirit world. This claim is vague, however, and since I couldn’t find any specific references to which tribes and nations believed this, it should be taken with a grain of salt.

Cypress wood, when used in wands, is said to have a calm and soothing energy. This follows cypress’ use as a symbol of, and remedy for, grief.

Medicinally, cypress oil is used to soothe coughs, treat warts, ease hemorrhoids, treat cuts and broken skin, relieve pain from muscle aches and varicose veins, and ease symptoms of anxiety and depression.

Personally, I love cypress and get a lot out of its connection to the other worlds. Bald cypresses, in particular, are excellent emblems of the thin border between the material plane and the spirit worlds. I’ve used cypress to ease thanatophobia, and as part of an excellent oil for trancework.

Using Cypress

If you don’t have access to cypress trees or wood, the easiest way to work with them is probably through their oil. Cypress trees are fragrant and produce a lovely essential oil. If you avoid using essential oils due to safety or sustainability concerns, you can also try purchasing some cypress needles and infusing your own oils. I’m fortunate that bald cypresses are native to this area, so there are plenty around when I need to gather twigs, needles, or cones.

If you work with grief, or as part of the counseling or deathcare industries, it may be worthwhile to explore the properties of cypress wood or oil. Even if you don’t choose to use incorporate this into your work, the aromatherapeutic and energetic properties may help ease the stress of confronting death and grief on a daily basis.

A close up of the base of a bald cypress trunk, showing four distinct knees. A pond and more trees are visible right behind them.

I have several bald cypress knees around my house. Some are altar pieces, some are floor sculptures, some are cabinet specimens. It doesn’t hurt bald cypress trees to have their knees removed, and many homeowners do so in order to make their yards a little safer and easier to maintain. You can often find cypress knees for sale on Etsy or eBay.

Cypress trees are great. If you live in an area with a native cypress species, plant one. They’re beautiful, they’re useful, and they’re powerful.

Uncategorized

Let’s Read: “Hound”

J.

A baby, stolen from his mother by a bloodthirsty goddess.

Human populations driven to war by an ancient entity.

If these don’t sound like the mythological Irish hero Cú Chulainn‘s story, you’re not wrong exactly, but they are what opens the action in Paul J. Bolger, Barry Devlin, and Dee Cunniffe’s Hound.

This is a retelling of the life of Cú Chulainn, but reframed to suit the constraints of a graphic novel. The artwork is gorgeous and heavily stylized, and the story does a very good job of hitting the high points. Some artistic liberties were taken, which the book acknowledges — the story is framed as told by the Morrígan, who outright says that there are many versions. “But remember… I was there. They were not.”

Hound is ultimately a tale about destiny. Who controls it? Do we, or are the wheels set in motion long before we’re able to make our own decisions? How do we win against the whims of forces beyond us? Can we overcome our innermost nature? How do you struggle against a god?

First, the art style. The book is illustrated entirely in black, white, and blood red. The linework is sharp, evocative of danger and madness. The characters also all have visually distinct appearances — there’s no “same facing” here. Not only do they have distinct faces, they have unique hair, tattoos, and jewelry, too. This is important, because the story moves quickly and people can come and go in a blur.

A man kneels beside the corpse of a large, savage looking dog. A text bubble says "Who will protect my family now?" Below that, a young, not-yet-Cú Chulainn says "I will... be your dog."

Many characters were blended or altered in order to make a smoother, more cohesive story. Some of the mysterious elements of the original (like Deichtine giving birth to Cú Chulainn, who has multiple foster parents) are greatly simplified (Cú Chulainn is kidnapped and raised by the Morrígan, who uses this time to plant the seed of his madness). This isn’t entirely a bad thing — Cú Chulainn’s story is long and complex, with many figures who come and go and have their own, branching stories. Condensing it into a graphic novel requires a bit of ingenuity.

As a graphic novel, it’s excellent. The story is ancient, but it feels fresh. The artwork suits the material. The artistic liberties that were taken with the story help to make it a cohesive, self-contained novel.

From a mythological perspective, it also seemed like some liberties were taken in places where they didn’t quite make sense. Aífe (Eva in the book) is an entirely different character. Rather than being a woman warrior who nearly bests Cú Chulainn in single combat before he creates a diversion, she’s Scáthach’s rebellious — and kind of whiny — daughter. Rather than Cú Chulainn demanding she bear him a son after he defeats her, the two of them get hot and heavy during a hunting montage. Rather than Cú Chulainn giving her a gold ring and telling her to send his son to find him in seven years, she’s butthurt that Cú Chulainn left her for Emer and sends the boy to hunt him down herself.

It’s understandable that a modern telling of Cú Chulainn’s story, where he’s the hero, wouldn’t want to include him demanding Aífe sleep with him in exchange for her life. Nonetheless, I don’t feel like this telling of the story really did her justice. She’s Scáthach’s rival. A legitimate threat, to the point where Scáthach drugs Cú to keep him safely out of the battle. A woman warrior capable of defeating Cú Chulainn. A lot of that was lost, I feel.

King Conchobar is also very different. By all accounts, he was a good king. In Hound, he’s portrayed as almost peevish. This worsens as the story progresses and he develops a grudge against Cú over Emer. Here, it’s the king who sends Cú to Scáthach as punishment.

A significant part of Emer‘s character was lost, as well. In the original, she tells Cú that she’ll only marry him when he proves himself worthy. She isn’t engaged to a king — in fact, kings turn down her father’s offer of her hand, because they know Cú wants her and know better than to get on his bad side. In Hound, it seems that Emer is flattened and her agency taken away. There, she’s engaged to the king against her will, who rejects her when she falls in love with Cú. This takes place over a couple panels’ worth of a travel montage. Why do they fall in love when she’s shown doing nothing but complaining and apparently has complete disdain for Cú? Your guess is as good as mine.

Perhaps my biggest character gripe is the Morrígan. In Hound, she is decidedly one-note. Almost more cryptid than deity, she is a shapeshifting entity who is dissatisfied with the lasting peace among humans. She kidnaps Cú in order to make him her warrior, to stir things up. She instigates the cattle raid to cause war. She has no motivation here other than to cause bloodshed. Alas, every story like this needs a villain, and she’s set up to fit that particular bill.
(She’s also portrayed as a single entity, rather than a triple goddess, but that’s not really an issue.)

I do like how Hound treats Scáthach (simplified to Skye), however. She isn’t portrayed as “comic book hot.” There are no spine-snapping poses, skintight outfits, or fight-inhibiting titties here. Her strength is not an informed characteristic — she exudes it. She is a powerful figure. She has a wild, animal sensuality that is far removed from standard comic heroines. This is a woman who can and will use her thighs to crush a skull like a watermelon. (And she’ll put you through a training montage until you can do the same.)

A tall, powerfully muscled woman stands over Cú. She holds a blade to his head and says, "So you are the great Cú Cullan..."
A nude Scáthach, body painted with bold swirling designs, reclines on carved stones. She says, "Let the sleeping stones seep this world from your bones and the steam steer your dreams in the other..."

As for the other characters, I wish I had more to say. At one point, we’re introduced to a five-man band of Scáthach’s students, but they don’t end up being as significant as I expected. (The only exception is Ferdia.) The story, as dense as it is, moves much too quickly to really become invested in many of Cú’s relationships. People die left and right, but in a way that’s hard to care about.

Ferdia, on the other hand, is treated well. He’s portrayed as a boisterous bruiser, a fitting blood brother for Cú, who is capable of holding his own even without the divine favor Cú has. He’s Medb’s champion, but he’s not a villain. He’s strong, handsome, honorable, and his final meeting with Cú is appropriately upsetting. He’s given weight in a way that the other characters — even some very important ones — are not.

This is not to complain about the story itself, however. Like I said, there are limits to portraying a tale like this in a graphic novel format. Some characters need to be simplified, and others removed. That said, I do think there are some places where this simplification wasn’t strictly necessary or could have been handled differently. (Cú having to leave Emer would’ve been more impactful if she were closer to her original portrayal, for example.) It’s likely that the only way around this would be to split Hound into multiple volumes so everyone could get some more page time and character/relationship development.

I know what you’re probably thinking, though.

“Okay, so this is Cú Chulainn in a visual medium… What about the warp spasm?!”

Don’t worry. It doesn’t disappoint. You know how horror stories are always scarier before you actually see the monster? In Hound, the artwork does a great job of suggesting and evoking without fully showing. Your imagination can fill in the details, and that’s always scarier than anything anyone can draw for you.

I'mma be honest, I'm not really sure how to describe what's even happening here. It's a depiction of Cú's warp spasm, where his body distorts as he enters a rage.

I absolutely recommend this book to readers who are interested in Irish legends, or for whom the story of Cú Chulainn resonates. I wouldn’t, however, recommend it to people looking for a historically faithful representation of the tale. It’s a beautiful book and, as long as it is respected as a dark fantasy adaptation of an ancient story, it’s extremely enjoyable.

Witchcraft

The Wheel of the Moon

J.

I’ve mentioned before that I’m a big fan of the Wheel of Life exercise. I was introduced to it by my psychologist, and I found that it was a) really helpful and b) fun. I like lists. I like charts. I like ways to visualize data, and that’s pretty much exactly what this exercise does. It’s also really flexible and customizable.

This last bit is why I’ve made it part of my full moon observations. I light a candle (a handmade full moon candle from the wonderful 13 Magickal Moons in Occoquan, VA) and some incense. I draw the wheel. I section it off and label it however is most fitting. I make the assessments, I draw the lines, and I compare the shape with the shape of the previous month.

The full moon rising behind some pines.

It’s a meditative exercise that helps me to acknowledge the changes I’ve made from month to month, because I can see them right in front of me. It highlights areas that need help, so I can use the power of the full moon to change them. By doing the wheel monthly, instead of every few months, it makes it easier for me to make incremental changes (and keep tabs on things like The Ennui).

It’s also useful for relating to the cycle of the moon. Even at the height of its power, the full moon heralds its own decrease. By that same token, the waning moon promises future growth. Looking at the Wheel of Life shows what has grown, what hasn’t, and, if need be, what should be pruned.

Below is a simple ritual outline that just about anyone can use to help better their physical and mental health, improve their relationships, and generally pull off a whole-life glow up.

The Wheel of the Full Moon

You will need:

  • A pen or pencil.
  • A piece of paper with a circle drawn on it.
  • A candle, preferably in white or silver.
  • Incense. Ethically harvested sandalwood, myrrh, white rose, bay leaf, or lemon balm work well here.
  • If this isn’t your first time performing the ritual, you may also want to have a fireproof bowl.

First, consider the areas of your life that you wish to focus on. This could be your physical health, mental health, physical environment, friendships, family, love life, career, spirituality, creativity, or anything else you desire. Count up how many areas you want to work on, and divide the circle up into that many sections — like a pie chart. Alternatively, you can use an online Wheel of Life creator.

Think of each area carefully. If you had to rate that area of your life from 1 to 10, what would you rate it? Pretend the center of the circle is zero, and the very edge of each slice is 10. Draw a dot roughly corresponding to the numerical rating you choose for each section. Connect these dots with lines, and you should have a kind of asymmetrical star shape.

Here’s an example from Wheeloflife.io’s generator.

This is your Wheel of Life. It’s a visual representation of how you feel about things right now. Look at the areas where the shape is most lopsided — this is where you feel your life needs the most help at this moment. For example, if you rated “family relationships” at a 7, and “career” at a 3, “career” would be the area to focus on.

Now, light the candle and the incense. If you can, place the Wheel of Life in a spot where the full moon’s light can fall on it. If not, observe it under the candle’s glow.

White candles, burning.

Say,

“See the moon’s glow, charging the Wheel.
My life is unfolding, with each turn I feel.
Full moon energy, guide me this night.
Transform me, renew me,
With your radiant light.”

As you meditate on your Wheel, consider what changes you can make to the areas of your life that need the most help. What can you do within the next week? The next two or three weeks? The next month?

Come up with three simple actions you can do over the next week. They can follow the energy of the waning moon, but they don’t necessarily have to.

Come up with three more that you can do over the next two to three weeks.

Finish by coming up with three more that you can complete by the next full moon.

Save this Wheel. Place it somewhere where you’ll see it often. Refer to it as many times as you need to in order to keep yourself motivated and on track.

(If you like, you can turn your actions into statements of intent, and use your preferred method to further empower them. Turn them into sigils, shorten them to symbols and inscribe them on candles, and so forth.)

Repeating the Wheel

If this isn’t your first time performing this ritual, then take out the last full moon’s Wheel.

Take a moment to compare this full moon’s Wheel to the last one. What progress have you made? What seeds have you sown, and what have you reaped? Give thanks for any advancements you’ve made, no matter how small.

A crackled clay firebowl filled with burning herbs. A small pile of herbs sits in the foreground.

If you wish, you can light the last full moon’s Wheel in the candle’s flame and drop it into the fireproof bowl. Scatter the ashes on the wind.

Plants and Herbs

Holly Folklore and Magical Properties

J.

I’m lucky to live not too far from an arboretum, which means that I have the ability to observe all kinds of incredible trees. A Druid group that I’m part of regularly visits it, too, in order to learn more about native trees and the traditional trees of the ogham. This season, we’re focusing on holly.

The US boasts multiple species of native holly. While these are all of the same genus as the European holly (Ilex aquafolium) of the ogham, they’re not really the same. Nonetheless, if you’re studying the ogham’s history, significance, and usage, making friends with your local trees certainly helps.

Red holly berries nestled among dark green, prickly leaves.

Holly is good for far more than its significance in the ogham. It has a long history the world over as a medicinal and magical plant.

Holly Magical Uses and Folkore

The ogam letter “tinne” didn’t always mean holly. (There’s strong evidence that it wasn’t originally a tree alphabet, but that’s a subject for another time.) Kennings indicate that “tinne” originally referred to a metal bar or ingot.

An ogham kenning is known as a Bríatharogam. These were used to explain the meaning of each symbol, as well as to help scholars memorize them. The three Bríatharogam for tinne are “trian roith,” “trian n-airm,” and “smiur gúaile.” These translate to “one of three parts of a wheel,” “one of three parts of a weapon,” and “marrow of coal.”

In European folklore, holly was considered a highly protective plant. (If you’ve ever felt it’s hard, prickly, waxy leaves, this probably isn’t too surprising!) It was also regarded as unlucky to cut down an entire holly tree — probably because you’d be removing its ability to protect you. Instead, there was a tradition of coppicing holly trees. This let farmers use the leaves as fodder, and gave artisans access to the highly valued holly wood.

This connects interestingly to the concept of holly as “one of three parts of a wheel/weapon.” All trees and woods have their own magical properties, and holly was considered useful for controlling. That made it useful for crafting horsewhips.

Also interestingly, holly’s ability as a protective plant has some mundane basis. Holly trees often exhibit a phenomenon known as “heterophylly,” where multiple types of leaves are present on a single plant. It’s not at all uncommon to see holly trees and bushes with both smooth and prickly leaves. Researchers have found that the appearance of prickly leaves correlates to recent browsing by herbivores. After a holly tree’s smooth leaves get eaten, it replaces them with prickly leaves to defend itself!

Ilex aquifolium, exhibiting heterophylly. Many of the leaves on this branch are spiny, but some are smoother and more oval in appearance.

Holly was also believed to protect against lightning strikes. There’s evidence that the prickly shape of holly leaves helps conduct lightning, protecting the plant itself and neighboring trees and structures from damage. Somewhat ironically, certain holly species are also extremely flammable. Please thoroughly research specific species of holly before choosing to plant one near your home.

Celtic legend speaks of the Oak King and the Holly King. Each one ruled over one half of the year — the Oak King over the warm months, and the Holly King over the cold. They would do battle each solstice, and the loser would have to submit to the victor. The Holly King wins each summer solstice and rules until the winter solstice, when he’s once again defeated by the Oak King.

In the Victorian language of flowers, holly represented defense and domestic happiness.

While some species of holly have been used medicinally for inflammation, fevers, and skin problems, it isn’t commonly seen in modern herbalism. There are generally safer alternatives that are equally as effective.

In addition to protection, holly is associated with beauty, prosperity, good luck, and vengeance.

Using Holly

Holly makes for good, strong wands. The wood is also really white in color, so it can take decoration well. Wands made of holly wood are said to be powerful for working with and commanding spirits.

Planting a holly bush near your house is useful for protecting against malevolent entities and energies, as well as lightning. Please note that some hollies are really flammable, however, so make sure you choose the right variety for this purpose. Alternatively, bring some fresh holly boughs into your home instead.

Place some prickly holly leaves in a glass bowl of fresh water, and let it stand in the morning sunlight. Bring it in before noon, remove the leaves, and use the water to asperge rooms or objects that you wish to protect.

Holly boughs, when brought into the home, are said to protect from mischievous fairies. It’s believed that fairies come into the home with the holly boughs, so bringing them in gives the fairies a place to stay peacefully during the winter months so they don’t cause trouble. However, the fairies must be shooed away and the boughs burned by Imbolc, or the fairies may decide to stick around and become a problem. In some cultures, it’s considered unlucky to ever burn holly, so it may be better to bring the boughs outside and leave them there instead.

Hollies are also valuable food plants for birds, even though they’re poisonous to other animals. If you’re trying to cultivate a better relationship with the local fauna and spirits of the land, it may be worth planting a native holly species. The berries are hard and unpalatable for birds during the warm months, but the last a long time and grow softer and sweeter after being frozen. This means that they’re one of the last sources of food in areas that experience cold winters.

Snow on a holly branch. The bright red berries are still clearly visible and vibrant.

In my area, we have native inkberry holly (Ilex glabra). These are a bit different from the usual hollies you see on cards and decorations, since it has smooth, oval leaves and small black berries. Even if you’re like me, and the traditional spiny, red-berried holly is in short supply, native hollies are just as valuable, powerful, and interesting to meet.

life, Plants and Herbs, Witchcraft

Relieving Pain by Means Magical and Mundane

J.

Hello! The inside of my face has been replaced with centipedes.

… Okay, fine, but that’s what it feels like.

Friday, I had a minor surgery (which, depending on how things go, may end up being the first of several. Sigh). This would not be a deal for most people, let alone a big deal, but things get complicated afterward when you have a very limited list of pain relievers that you can safely use. So, I figured I’d write this handy-dandy guide for other people in this position.

Why might someone have trouble getting pain relief? A lot of reasons. Some people avoid them because of a personal or family history of addiction. Some medical conditions, like breathing problems, preclude the use of specific types of pain killers. Some medications don’t combine well with them, either. In my case, too many pain meds manage to raise cerebrospinal fluid pressure, have a reduced effect when combined with an SSRI, and increase the risk of serotonin syndrome. This underlines the importance of disclosing everything to your doctors — your past and current medical conditions, every medication you’re taking, the whole lot. They’re not there to judge you, they’re just there to make sure you don’t die.

Anyhow, there are herbal, mineral, and magical means of coping with physical pain when everything else is contraindicated. These shouldn’t take the place of appropriate pharmaceutical pain management when that’s a) available and b) necessary, but can definitely help take the edge off when that isn’t an option. As with any herbs, don’t use them if you’re allergic to other plants in the same family, or if you’re on other medications that might interact with them. A lot of plants that relieve pain are also relaxants, so be mindful that they may make you drowsy or slower than normal. If you have an upcoming surgery, ask your doctor if these herbs are safe to use in the days running up to your operation.

Chamomile

Ah, chamomile. My number one solution to so many of life’s problems. It’s relaxing, it helps me sleep, and it’s surprisingly good at helping with pain.

Here, we’re talking about both German (Matricaria chamomilla, also known as M. recutita) and Roman chamomile (Chamaemelum nobile). One study found that a topical gel of 3% chamomile extract helped with pain from oral mucositis induced by chemotherapy. A clinical trial quoted in this same study showed that chamomile, when inhaled, reduced cesarian pain. Other quoted trials demonstrated a very helpful anti-inflammatory effect, as well.

Chamomile flowers floating in a cup of tea.

When I need chamomile to do more than help me relax, I prefer to use a tincture. It seems to work faster and provide more relief than tea alone (though a nice cup of iced, double-strength chamomile tea certainly has its place). A few drops of chamomile tincture are also great at soothing toothaches and mouth sores.

Chamomile essential oil is also helpful in an aromatherapeutic context (the way it was used in the cesarian surgery pain trial), but isn’t absorbed all that great. Topical applications of chamomile oil were much more effective when they were blended in a nanogel to aid absorption.

Lemon balm

Lemon balm, Melissa officinalis, is best known as a relaxant and digestive herb. Some people use it for pain relief, but structured research is limited in this area. Still, if you’ve experienced pain that has kept you up at night, you probably know the value of something that can help you get to sleep.

Lemon balm, like chamomile, is also anti-inflammatory.

As a word of caution, lemon balm can be powerful. I don’t really get sleepy from chamomile, but a cup of lemon balm tea can knock me out. Be cautious when using it with other herbs or medicines, and don’t use it when you need to be alert.

Turmeric and Ginger

Turmeric is an anti-inflammatory herb that I initially started using for joint pain. Combining it with black pepper, specifically the compound piperine, helps to make turmeric more effective. Piperine isn’t very soluble in water, though, so preparations made with isolated piperine usually involve extraction using solvents like dichloromethane.

Personally, I use turmeric and ginger tea all of the time. I feel a difference when I don’t. (If I’m having a rougher day than usual, it’s often because I’ve been skipping my tea by accident.) These plants are actually related, and they have some overlap in their medicinal effects.

A wooden spoon and glass jar of turmeric powder.

Turmeric and ginger are the kind of herbs that are better for chronic pain, not acute pain. Think of it like this: If you deal with joint pain on the regular, turmeric and ginger may be a big help. If you currently have a headache, you’re better off reaching for something else.

Clove Oil

Got a toothache? Clove oil (Syzygium aromaticum) is your buddy… at least, if you’re an adult.

A drop or two of this stuff, diluted in a carrier oil, placed on a cotton bud, and swabbed on the affected tooth, can help halt tooth pain in its tracks with amazing efficiency. It’s effective for making cavities and broken teeth less agonizing until you can get to a dentist. One of the compounds in clove oil, eugenol, is even used to help manage the pain from alveolar osteitis (dry socket).

As a note of caution, clove oil is potent medicine. Use it straight, and it can burn the absolute tits out of your mouth. It can also be toxic in large doses. For children, a “large dose” is not a whole lot, so it should never be used to sooth teething babies. Clove oil can also be bad for people with liver disorders, unstable blood sugar, or who are taking anticoagulants. While a drop or two isn’t going to harm a healthy adult when used properly, it’s worth knowing this stuff and treating cloves with respect.

It’s also important to use real clove oil. Make sure the bottle says that it’s 100% essential oil from the appropriate species of tree. (Don’t worry about qualifiers like “therapeutic grade” — there are no regulatory bodies that determine this, it’s just a marketing term). Avoid products labeled “fragrance oil.”

No clove oil? Mash a little ground clove spice with warm water and apply the paste instead.

Garlic

If you have a toothache and clove oil isn’t an option, biting down on a piece of raw garlic can help. Chew it until it’s soft, and let it sit on the affected tooth. If you don’t want to chew on raw garlic, mush it into a paste with a spoon or mortar and pestle, or grate it first. The important thing is to let it sit on the aching tooth.

From my experience, garlic doesn’t relieve tooth pain quite as effectively as clove oil, but it can be safer for some people. If you’re really struggling, you’re about at your limit with swabbing clove oil in your mouth, and you don’t have any chamomile tincture, garlic is definitely a solid runner up.

Selenite/Satin Spar

This is all purely anecdotal, but I’d feel remiss not to include it. I have a satin spar wand — nothing fancy, just an unpolished, rectangular hunk of gypsum — which has come in handy time and time again for pain related to intracranial hypertension. As it turns out, a number of pain relievers are associated with increased cerebrospinal fluid pressure, so there’s often not much you can do to deal with the crushing pain.

I get it the worst right at the base of my skull, as do a lot of people. I’ve found that lightly pressing a piece of satin spar to that spot really helps. Oddly enough, other massage wands don’t. Neither do other crystals. Honestly, even ice packs are a bit hit-or-miss.

Should you throw out all of your NSAIDs and stock up on satin spar? No, I don’t think so. But satin spar wands are common enough that, if you’re reading this, it’s likely that you already have one. If so, it may be worth giving a shot. It certainly has been for me!

Chlorite Quartz

I have a lovely bit of chlorite quartz that came from Ireland. It’s very clear, save for a bloom of deep green in its heart– like a cluster of fluffy moss.

A lot of guides attribute healing properties to chlorite quartz, but these are pretty vague. “Healing.” “Emotional healing.” “Detoxification.” Interestingly, I haven’t seen it used for relieving pain, though I have seen more than one site make the wildly irresponsible claim that it’s good against serious, potentially lethal health conditions like cancer and heart disease.

I discovered by accident that the particular specimen I mentioned is helpful for headaches. Holding it in my dominant hand has stopped one in its tracks on multiple occasions, to my delighted surprise. As someone who has headaches of varying severity on a daily basis, anything that can put the brakes on one is nothing short of miraculous.

Sympathetic Magic

One old remedy for tension headaches involves taking a knife (preferably one with a broad, pointed blade, like a chef’s knife) and holding it against the head. The user is then instructed to take the knife outdoors and stab it into the ground, while declaring that the headache is now sent into the dirt for the Earth to deal with. Even if you don’t necessarily believe in the power of sympathetic magic, the coolness of a piece of metal can help ease a mild headache, and the psychological benefits of this exercise shouldn’t be overlooked.

Other remedies involve transferring illness to objects like candles, then burning them. These are just as valid, but take a bit too long for my taste. If I’m having too much pain to sleep, the last thing I want to do is babysit a burning candle for several hours!

Temperatures

Pretty much everyone knows about using ice and heat to help relieve inflammation and pain, but setting up the right temperature gradient can turn that relief up to eleven.

When it comes to headaches, warming your feet while cooling your head can be a huge help. This helps increase blood flow to your lower extremities, while narrowing vessels in your head. If you have the kind of throbbing headaches that are triggered or made worse by heat, this can really improve things by a surprising amount. A warm footbath and an ice pack on the back of my neck can be an absolute lifesaver sometimes.

It’s really not uncommon for people to end up in a situation where their pain relief options are limited. This list isn’t to suggest that herbs and crystals can substitute for, say, a morphine drip for a terminally ill person, but to hopefully offer some ideas for people who, like me, don’t really have safe, effective options available.

Plants and Herbs

Radish Folklore & Magical Properties

J.

We’re fortunate to have a service in our area that delivers goods from the local farmers’ market. Even if we can’t go there ourselves for whatever reason, we can still pick out what we want and get it dropped off for not a whole lot of money. A week’s worth of fruit and vegetables for us is about $40, plus $2-4 for delivery. Pad that out with beans and rice or potatoes, and it’s a good way to have a reasonably healthy, varied, local diet without spending a ton or having to go to the store a bunch. If you have fewer people to feed, a box with five items of your choice is only $25ish. It’s nice.

This week, we’re getting celery, bok choy, apples, tomatoes, kale, fennel, and a ton of radishes. Why so many radishes? ‘Tis the season! They’re cool weather plants that mature in a short time, so there’s always a bunch available in spring and autumn.

Radish Magical Uses and Folklore

Radishes originated in China and entered the historical record in the 3rd century BCE, and spread across Europe from there. They were also one of the first plants introduced to the Americas by European colonizers.

A close up of some radishes, still in the soil. The tops of the round, red roots are visible just above the soil line.

In antiquity, opinions on radishes were divided. Pliny and Discorides prized them, while Hippocrates claimed that they were “vicious” and difficult to digest.

To be fair, radishes are cruciferous vegetables. This puts them in the same group as plants like kale, mustard, cauliflower, and broccoli. They’re not the easiest things in the world to digest and are notorious for causing gas.

Radishes were offered to Apollo, but not just any radishes. It was customary to present gifts to deities in the form of intricate carvings. Radishes were so prized, Apollo received ones made of solid gold.

In Oaxaca, Mexico, people observe the Night of the Radishes. Artists compete by creating intricate sculptures carved entirely from radishes. These aren’t the typical small, round guys you see in the grocery store, however — they’re a specially grown variety cultivated specifically for this festival.

An old folk remedy for nagging and gossip involved tasting a radish before bed while fasting. This was said to protect men from being harmed by “the chatter of women.”

One old English book says that uprooting a radish while reciting the proper incantations would allow one to find witches. (Unfortunately, the author didn’t write down the incantations.)

Radishes are also associated with lust spells and protection. This makes sense, considering their peppery heat and red color. Both of these qualities are associated with sexual desire and protection and can be seen across many magical ingredients used for these purposes.

Wearing a garland of radish flowers around one’s neck was said to keep demons at bay.

The juice and oil of radishes were also considered protective and curative. Washing one’s hands in radish juice was said to enable one to safely handle venomous creatures. Another source claimed that dipping a whole radish in a glass of poison would render the poison safe to drink.
(Do not do any of these things pls.)

In Germany, radishes were associated with evil spirits. Well, one specific evil spirit: the demon Rübezahl. He is a mountain spirit who is often portrayed as a trickster figure. On one hand, he could help humans and teach them the secrets of medicine. On the other, he represents the capriciousness of the weather of the mountains. In Czech fairytales, Rübezahl (called Krakonoš) gave humans sourdough.

It’s also said that he was fond of taking whatever he pleased without asking. He kidnapped a princess who was very fond of radishes (in some versions, turnips) and locked her away in a tower. When the princess began to wither away from loneliness, the spirit turned a radish into a cricket. He warned her that, once the leaves of the radish began to wither, the cricket would die. The clever princess sent the cricket off to find her true love and bring him back to rescue her. Sadly, the radishes withered and the cricket died before he could, but he succeeded in chirping his tale to all of the other crickets in the world. Now, whenever you hear crickets chip, you hear them tell the tale of Rübezahl and the stolen princess.

It should be noted that Rübezahl is actually a mocking nickname — it’s more respectful to refer to him as Lord of the Mountains, Herr Johannes, or Treasure Keeper.

Using Radishes

As a common culinary ingredient, radishes are pretty easy to use. Combine them in a salad with other ingredients that relate to your intention, and enjoy. Radishes, strawberries, and basil can be eaten (or fed to a consenting lover) for lust. Radishes, lettuce, oregano, and garlic can be eaten for protection. Radish greens are edible, too!

A bunch of red radishes on a cutting board, tied together with red and white string.

For best results, stick with young radishes. The older they get, the tougher and more difficult to digest they become.

Since radishes are a cool weather crop, they’re a good choice for off-season growth spells. For example, if you want to bring more love and lust into your life but it isn’t exactly growing season, you may still be able to get decent results by sowing radish seeds.

Since flowering radish tops repel evil, you may wish to include these plants in beds near your front, back, and side doors. Let them flower and keep your home protected from malevolent spirits.

Radishes are a fun, easy to grow, easy to use ingredient in food and spells alike. I remember growing some in a tiny plastic vegetable garden kit that came from McDonald’s when I was very little, and I’ve kind of had a soft spot for them ever since. If you have any space to dedicate to these little guys, give them a shot!

Plants and Herbs

The robot uprising is here, and they’re trying to kill us with bad foraging advice.

J.

When foraging, it’s said that you should be as confident identifying edible plants in the wild as you are in a grocery store. Foragers also say that the best way to learn is to have an experienced person to guide you. Not everyone has access to someone like that, though. Enter: Books about foraging.

Ripe wineberries. They are shiny, red raspberry-like fruit on a stem covered in red hairs.

Now, gathering and eating wild plants based entirely on the photos and descriptions in a book can be a bit intimidating. For some plants, this isn’t a big deal — wineberries, for example, are an invasive edible that’s really easy to pick out. Garlic mustard and wild onions, too. Some plants don’t really have poisonous lookalikes, so the odds of making a dangerous mistake are pretty slim. Others, not so much.

All of this is to say that books about foraging aren’t all bad. At least, they weren’t.

Here’s where shit gets weird.

Here Come the Robots

People looking to make a quick buck have turned to artificial intelligence and Amazon’s publishing platform to pump out a lot of barely-concealed drivel. A lot of this is in the form of children’s books, I guess because they seem easier to make than a full-length novel. This is far from harmless, because children’s books play a role in the development of literacy and empathy that you don’t really want to hand off to a computer.

This attempt to cash out isn’t limited to children’s books, either. Amazon and other online book sellers have become the proud purveyors of foraging books written by AI. This isn’t really a new phenomenon, but, on the off chance any of you out there’re in the market for foraging guides, I figured I’d give you a heads up.

To be fair, a lot of these are simply useless and the worst they’ll do is waste your money. The books in this category claim to be foraging guides, but end up being about why foraging is good, listicles on the benefits of eating more fruits and vegetables, and recipe ideas. Pretty harmless overall.

An underside view of the gills of a cream-colored mushroom.

On the other hand, there are books offering actual descriptions of “edible” plants and mushrooms(!). Some of them even list “taste” as an identifying feature of plants and fungi, which could encourage inexperienced foragers to taste things they haven’t positively identified. Since many extremely poisonous mushrooms are visually similar to harmless ones, this could get someone killed. Hell, plenty of people already mistake poisonous mushrooms for edible ones even without books encouraging them to taste them.

Spotting Foraging Fakes

It’s not always easy to pick out which books are written by actual human people, and which aren’t. There are a couple of things that you can look for:

  • Publishing dates. Books written before the rise of AI generated content are a safer bet here.
  • The author’s web presence. Even if they have a photo, that doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re a person. The photo could be stolen (just see any of the fake identities on Scamfish), or made up by a different AI. Look for a blog. A Facebook page. A TikTok. An Instagram. Something to indicate an existence beyond the cover of a dodgy book.
    As this article from 404 Media states, “‘Edwin J. Smith’”’ is the author listed on two books[,] but doesn’t have any other books, or an online presence otherwise. The only Edwin J. Smith I could find was a Professor Emeritus of medicine at Indiana University from a staff list that’s more than a decade old.”
  • The author’s credentials. They should be actual, and not completely made up. Beware of author bios that offer vague, unrelated information.
  • A sample of the prose. A lot of bots pull from very varied sources, so you’ll get bits that sounds like they’re cut from a recipe blog, a florist’s website, an actual foraging manual, and so forth. These are also likely to be thrown together without much thought, because no actual humans looked at it to make sure it’d make any damn sense at all.
  • The editing. Bad, AI generated foraging guides often have mistakes that any human editor (or writer, for that matter) would pick up on right away.
  • A bad score from an AI-detection tool, like Scribbr or GPTZero. Get a sample of the text, paste it in a detection tool, and see what it says. While you’re at it, paste the author’s bio in there, too.

Again, if you’re able to, connect with an experienced foraging expert before going out in the field on your own. Your local university may be able to help you. You might even be able to find a group of foraging enthusiasts on sites like Meetup. Even if you can’t go out with a foraging expert, they may be able to recommend actual, useful guides, videos, and other resources for you.