Plants and Herbs, Witchcraft

Crocus Folklore & Magical Uses

It’s spring (kind of)!

At least, it’s getting spring-y here. Granted, I think we maybe had about four days of actual “winter,” but it’s been t-shirt weather for the past few days, and looks like it’s going to stay that way for at least another week.

Since things were warming up, I stepped out back to take a look at the yard. The elderberry bushed that I planted last year have some new leaves coming in, the bulbs I planted are starting to poke up through the mulch, and the apples are both looking good.

There’s also a large patch of surprise crocuses that seem to have popped up overnight next to my shed.

These are either Crocus vernus, the spring crocus, or Crocus tommasinianus, the woodland crocus. They’re beautiful, but decidedly not native to this area. (Crocus vernus and C. tommasinianus are related to C. sativus, the saffron crocus. However, these crocuses are definitely not a way to make rice more delicious.) Still, I am determined to enjoy them before it’s time to remove the bulbs and put in some native coralberry bushes. I’ll probably keep the bulbs and move them to somewhere where they’re less likely to spread.

If you’re also experiencing a flush of these tiny colorful flowers, here’s some old folklore and a few ways to make them magically useful.

Crocus Folklore

In ancient Greek legend, Crocus was a human man. The nymph Smilax was in love with him, but, ever the fuckboy, Crocus was dissatisfied with the affair. The gods turned him into a saffron crocus.

Another version of this story claims that Crocus was a companion of Hermes. Unfortunately, he stood up at an inopportune time during a discus throwing match, and Hermes accidentally killed him. As Crocus’ blood fell on the soil, saffron crocuses sprang up.

Spring crocuses are associated with Persephone, Aphrodite, and Venus. Mythology would also appear to tie this flower to Hermes.

A London source claimed that picking crocuses tended to “draw away the strength.” Therefore, only strong men or healthy young women should attempt to.

A field of purple and white crocuses at the base of a mountain.

According to Pliny, wearing crocus around the neck would prevent drunkenness. Interestingly, Swiss parents would place saffron around their children’s necks as a protective charm (presumably not against drunkenness, or else they’ve got some explaining to do).

In the Victorian language of flowers, crocuses represented cheer and youthful gladness.

This flower is associated with the planets Venus and Mercury, and the element of Water.

Crocus Magical Properties

Historic mentions of crocus as a protective charm typically refer to saffron crocus, not the spring crocuses. It can be hard to tease out folklore and uses attributed to spring crocuses, since the autumn-blooming saffron crocuses were generally considered more useful. For our purposes, I’m going to focus on spring crocuses here.

Spring blooming crocuses are used in charms for love, including platonic love or love of the self.

As an early spring-blooming flower, spring crocuses are also useful for spells for new beginnings.

These flowers are common altar decorations for Imbolc and Ostara. However, use caution if you bring spring crocuses indoors — all varieties of crocus other than C. sativus are toxic. Spring-blooming crocuses can cause diarrhea, vomiting, and digestive upset, while autumn-blooming crocuses can cause liver and kidney damage.

Simple Crocus Spells

You can include crocuses in charm bags for love. Add the dried flowers to a pink or red pouch along with rose petals, lavender flowers, and a bit of cinnamon bark. If you like, add a piece of rose quartz. Dress it with your favorite love-drawing oil (in a pinch, infuse some cinnamon, basil, and rose in grapeseed or sunflower seed oil, and use that) and keep it on you.

You can also use crocuses as a form of sympathetic magic. Plant a bulb along with a slip of paper with your name, and the name of your partner. Declare that as the plant grows, your love will flourish with it. When the flower is at its peak, pick it and save it for a love charm.

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divination, life

Heart-Anchor-Birds.

You know that meme that’s been going around, about how if you don’t come out of social distancing with a new hobby, hustle, etc., you never lacked the time, you lacked the discipline? That’s absolute hot trash, but I am trying to use the time I have between bouts of ennui, existential despair, and anxiety to learn new things. It’s a small thing, but it helps me keep sane.

Right now, I’m trying to teach myself Lenormand readings.

It’s a very useful kind of divination. I don’t think it really replaces tarot, but, when used in combination with it, it can give you a really complete picture of a situation. Tarot’s great for giving you an energetic, mental, and emotional snapshot, while Lenormand focuses more on actions. If tarot is the “what,” Lenormand is the “how.”

It’s a bit outside of the scope of this post to dive into the history of divination using the Petit Lenormand, but there’re already a number of very good posts out there on the subject. Instead, I wanted to see how well this kind of divination would work for my usual weekly readings.

Recently, my therapist recommended doing something to add some joy to every day. It’s harder to do with everything that’s going on, but that’s exactly why it’s so important — in the absence of taking pictures of moss and mushrooms, birding, and identifying wildflowers, I have to make more of an effort to find and do things that bring me joy at home.

I asked a simple question: How?

I drew the Heart, Anchor, and Bird using the Seventh Sphere Lenormand app.

I can’t pretend to be an expert at this, since I’ve only just started. What was interesting here is how neatly the advice overlapped with what I’ve been told via tarot: One of the biggest helps for easing my anxiety is to lean more on my relationship. It provides care, stability, and happiness, but, like I talked about yesterday, I’ve also had some trouble with the reciprocal aspect of being a disabled person in a long-term relationship.

petitjeu_heartanchorbirds

In this kind of divination, the meanings of the cards are read literally, the way one might read a sentence. Each symbol has a meaning, akin to a pictogram. The Heart, unsurprisingly, stands for love and relationships. The anchor is stability and resiliency. Birds are chatter, according to some sources, and nervousness according to others. Cards are read in pairs, with the first card acting as the subject of the “sentence,” and the second as the modifier.

Read this way, heart and anchor are a long-term relationship. Anchor and birds are life=long partners, or deep discussions. It’s a deep discussion with a long-term romantic partner.

Admittedly, I don’t really like talking about what’s going on in my brain with my partner. I feel like I create enough of a burden by existing, like I don’t have a “right” to his emotional labor. We don’t really have any friction in our relationship, but there are definitely times when I have too much going on in my mind to be really present. I encourage him to be open with me, though I have trouble doing the same with him. I know that’s something that I need to get past — it looks like doing so is the best way for me to figure out how to be happy on a day-to-day basis.

Sometimes the only way out is through.

divination, life

The Ace of Wands Comes Back.

I like Aces. They stand for a new beginning, and there’s nothing quite like that feeling of untapped potential — where everything is still possible, and nothing’s happened to screw it all up (yet). Getting an Ace in a reading feels pretty awesome.

If you’ve been reading my navel-gazey ruminations for awhile, you’ve probably seen that I draw Aces and Wands pretty frequently. It makes sense, in its own strange way: I’m at a point in my life where I have a lot of opportunities open to me, but not a lot of resources that allow me to take advantage of them. I feel like this is a bit different, though. Though Wands generally represent creativity, I feel like I’ve got a pretty good handle on the direction my creative endeavors are going in at this point.

On the other hand, this week I’ve got a new lease to sign, my S.O. doing new job things, and my first appointment with a psychologist.
My dance card’s pretty packed, and it’s all brand new.

So, knowing I had a ton of utter upheaval (good upheaval!) and turmoil (beneficial turmoil!) coming up, I drew this week’s card with that in mind. I’m already more anxious than I’m comfortable handling with the tools currently at my disposal, so a little reassurance than I’m not putting myself in a worse position by making these changes could go a long way.

The Ace of Wands card from the Rider-Waite deck.
From the Rider-Waite deck, illustrated by Pamela Coleman Smith.

I drew the Ace of Wands again. Before, it came at a time when I was seeking out help from another new doctor, and practically bursting with ideas. This time around, I’m seeking help from another new doctor (albeit of a very different kind), and making some significant changes to other areas of my life. This card is good news and a new beginning, and I could certainly use both!

So much of what’s happening with, to, and around me right now has a lot to do with my partner. In the context of love, the Ace of Wands represents a “next move” in a relationship — often one that breathes new life into it. It can be something like an engagement, marriage, pregnancy, or other move that feels like a step “forward.” I like to think my S.O. and I aren’t tired of each other yet, but I definitely agree that having more space and a change of scenery will make things more pleasant for the both of us.

Tomorrow’s a pretty big day. What do I do if I have anxiety about talking to a new doctor about my anxiety? It’s basically the worst kind of brainception.

 

divination, life

The Ten of Cups

Hello! It’s been a month(ish) since I last posted. I’m sorry about that.

I do have a pretty good reason for dropping off of the face of the earth, though — sort of a combination of managing my health and that thing where you’re not supposed to tell people you’re doing a thing, because you’ll get the same emotional high from talking about it as you would from actually doing it and then end up never actually finishing it.

Anyway, in my time away I finished two paintings and one book, written collaboratively with my awesome and creative S.O. So that’s neat.

He and I have no idea how and if it will ever be published, but, thus far, beta readers have received it well. After getting the first round of feedback, we’ll have to seek out an editor, and then decide how we want to progress.

(It is a very long, drawn out, complicated process, and I am glad he has elected to handle most of it. I got to compile everything, make the initial edits, and format it all into a readable manuscript.)

Even if no publisher wants it and nothing comes of it, it’s certainly a good feeling to look at your writing and be able to say you’ve finished a full-length novel.

So, I wasn’t that surprised when I pulled the Ten of Cups this week.

Cups10
Ten of Cups from the Rider-Waite tarot, artwork by Pamela Coleman Smith.

The suit of Cups speaks of emotional fulfillment, and Tens are the completion of a cycle. They’re the ultimate culmination, So, it’s probably unsurprising that the Ten of Cups, then, speaks of joy, peace, and happiness. It’s contentment, emotional security, and an abundance of love. Though the artwork varies from deck to deck, it usually depicts a couple joyfully surveying a landscape replete with signs of luck and happiness — a rainbow, flowers, sunshine, rolling hills, a neat little house, you name it. It’s one of the most positive cards in the deck.

Working with my S.O. on what has ultimately been a labor of love for the both of us has been a trip. We started writing collaboratively as a way to roleplay — acting out little scenes between the two of us when distance, money, time, or health didn’t let us go on many adventures. This practice evolved into a setting with deep lore, eons of history, its own cosmology, and a tremendously varied cast of characters. To be honest, last we counted, we’d written enough for several novels and two or three anthologies of short stories, but this is the first we’ve felt confident enough to put through the process of turning it into something actual.

I feel like it’s a bit like having a baby, only nobody had to throw up for months, we still get to sleep afterward, and everyone’s perinea stayed intact. So probably not actually much like having a baby.

Hopefully, when all the hurly-burly’s done, I’ll be able to share it with you, too.

life, Plants and Herbs, Witchcraft

DIY Bath Bomb Magic

Remember when I mentioned taking some magic bath bombs on the road?

Seeing as how they worked extremely well for my purposes, I figured I’d drop how I made ’em. Though they’re not exactly something I’d display in a fancy basket next to my Lush Perles de Sel, they smell fantastic and leave my skin soft (and, more importantly, magic af).

Bath bombs, the easy way

A basic recipe for bath bombs calls for three ingredients:

  1. 1 part acid
  2. 2 parts base
  3. Enough binder to get it to stick together

For most purposes, these are answered by vitamin C, baking soda, and water or oil. Put those together, and you’ll get a basic bomb that will fizz when it gets wet (and help remove the chlorine from your tap water at the same time). From there, you can play with additives, colorants, glitter, and any other ingredients that suit your purpose. You can also add one part of your choice of dry ingredients — dried herbs, epsom salt, arrowroot powder, or what have you — and enough skin-safe essential oil to fragrance the lot.

herb

So, for example, a sample love bomb recipe might look like this:

Continue reading “DIY Bath Bomb Magic”