
Editor’s note: We encourage our readers to take these mid-month meditations as an opportunity to take a short break from everything else. Rather than treating these posts the way you would any other post, set aside 10 minutes someplace quiet and semi-private to have an experience. Take a minute to relax first. After looking at the post, take a few minutes to let the experience sink in. If it feels right, leave a comment.

Artwork: “Altars by Night” by Kevin Rolly
“An Altar for Broken Things” by Carol Green
I had an altar for broken things
bird wing
ceramic butterfly with glitter still glistening along its seams
dragonfly body
sections hung together like popbeads
plaster leg of a fallen goddessAll gathered one by one during broken years
when brokenness was a magnet for other lost parts
For years it nestled in a cupped hand the color of red clay
It sat in the North, frozen in the deep sleep of past wounds
waiting for a Magi’s touchFrankincense to bless the altar where my spirit lay entombed
Myrrh to gentle the grief
Gold to pave the way home.
Note: The author has requested that no bio be included.
This essay (with minor edits) was originally published at AtheistWitch’s blog, Spiritual atheist witch…and other strange labels.
Personal Adjustment: My spells are rarely one-size-fits-all, suitable for all people and all occasions. I think that any magic has to be adapted to the person practicing it. I readily draw inspiration from other people and established traditions in my spell-crafting. But the final arbiter is always me. I say this because I find that some authors and some practitioners play games of psychological manipulation that imply that not doing it their way means that one is not initiated into the true “secrets” of magic. Or worse, that one is exposing him or herself to harm by not doing it “the right way” (i.e., their way). Never mind that the person asserting this has no evidence for their way working beyond their own personal experience. And never mind that they don’t prove that any negative consequences (i.e. evil spirits) are not coming from that person’s own mind. They want you to be scared into following their way of doing things. That doesn’t work for me. These people also contradict themselves because they say that the more one puts his or her own “energy” into the practice, the greater the effect will be. Other more traditional folk magicians (i.e. Hoodooists, Voodooists) talk about the need to have a “link” to the object of the spell in order to carry out work on them (i.e. hair, bodily fluids). So personal involvement is paramount, and in my opinion can never be delegated.
Words, words, words: One of the easiest ways I ensure personal involvement in a spell is to use my own words, or to use words that are relevant to the target. I subscribe fully to a quote from the very last Harry Potter movie which was uttered by Albus Dumbledore:
“Words are our most inexhaustible source of magic. They are potent forms of enchantments, rich with the power to hurt or heal.”
Some of my most potent spells have also been simple recitations of words. If anything analogous to evil spirits exist, I believe they are mostly manifestations of one’s own fears. The best psychological abuse occurs when the abuser can make the abused participate in their own victimization. Occasionally, when I read a very detailed account of someone who claims to have encountered evil spirits that have caused them physical harm, misfortune and financial ruin, my irrational side gets the best of me. “What if it’s true? Am I exposing myself to harm?”, I wonder as the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand up. I came up with a very simple spell that I repeat as long as is necessary to feel better.
“Black magic I may have seen on TV, but it has no power over me.”
This helps rationality take control again. Without exception, the fear has disappeared in a short period of time. A post on evil spirits in the blog of a Druid named Jeff Lilly pointed out that:
“I do know a number of people who claim to have seen them. But interestingly, the only people who see them are the ones who somehow “expect” to see them — that is, people who already believe in supernatural entities. Evil spirits leave secular humanists alone….
“I also read somewhere that the only reason that evil spirits don’t go around possessing people all over the world is that most people believe so strongly that evil spirits don’t exist, and that their bodies are inviolable, that the spirits can’t get in. Effectively, the disbelief itself is a powerful protective spell.”
Just as I am careful professionally to not claim that I can do things which I cannot, I am also very careful in what I claim to be able to do for other people magically. I don’t generally do spells for people unless I know them well. When I did a ritual to help a friend lose weight, I made it clear that the ritual itself would not make him lose weight and that he would have to eat more healthily for that. I would be extremely careful, or even declare an absolute prohibition, on doing something like a healing spell for the relative of an unconscious person in the hospital. What if the unconscious person dies? Would the relative then feel guilty about invoking “unnatural forces”? Would they blame me for what happened?Would I then feel guilty about the outcome? It could turn into a huge mess. The only circumstance I would even think about doing something like that would be if the person involved was a very well-known friend who knew that the ritual would be aimed ONLY at making the friend feel better by allowing him or her to express his or her will for the relative’s well-being.
That being said, whereas some Wiccans are completely against any kind of bindings or curses, I am more flexible. I would call myself a “pragmatic pacifist”. I try to believe that most people have mostly good intentions most of the time. When someone’s behavior annoys me, my first instinct is usually to not take it personally. I also subscribe to Article 1 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which reads:
“All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.”
Unfortunately, everyone does not play according to those rules. When it becomes clear that one is faced with an unavoidable high-stakes confrontation with people who are not acting in good faith, then I think one has to fight back. In the words of the late Aaliyah in the movie, Romeo Must Die,
“When a girl is kicking your ass, you do not have to be a gentleman.”
Similarly, if a binding or a curse helps you deal with someone (i.e. an emotional abuser, a workplace harasser, etc.) in a way that will keep you from being completely and totally screwed over, then by all means, do it. Just like physical violence, the defense has to be relatively proportional to the offense (i.e. you can’t shoot someone for slapping you).
Celebration of full moons and traditional nature festivals: Similar to the second characteristic of my practice as stated above, celebrating the 13 annual full moons and the eight dates commonly recognized as the “Wheel of the Year” is a way for me to feel more in tune with the rest of the natural world. I also consider those occasions to be good times for magical workings, if I happen to be so inclined.
Well, there you have a summary of my magical practice. Thank you for reading and if you have any comments or want to tell me about your practice, feel free.

AtheistWitch: I was born in the middle of the United States, but have been living in Europe for most of my adult life. I was raised an Evangelical Christian, but started to disconnect from my denomination at around the age of 16 when I realized I was gay. I only admitted to being an atheist around the age of 23. At some point, I started researching Wicca and Paganism in depth and liked most of what I saw, but didn’t want to give up my Atheism. Since Wicca’s symbols are nominally related to real natural events or aspects, I realized I didn’t have to. While I don’t consider myself a Wiccan, I today call myself a naturalistic, atheistic eclectic, solitary witch. I celebrate the wheel of the year, meditate, do rituals both complex and simple, strive towards better understanding of self and others, as I try to be an ecological eater and walk through the greener parts around my area on a regular basis. It is an ever-evolving practice, one that attempts to remain scientifically and logically grounded, while at the same time involving a lot of humor and being very “me”.” Here is the link to my blog: atheistwitch.blogspot.com.
See AtheistWitch’s other posts.
For our monthly installment of De Natura Deorum, where we explore the beliefs of Naturalistic Pagans about the nature of deity, B. T. Newberg shares why he prays to the goddess Isis.
If there is no Isis outside my mind, why do I pray to her?
For me, there are two reasons that I’ll highlight here, out of the many that could be said.
First, motivation to act is not always at the beck and call of our rational decision-maker. Often we know what we *should* do, but can’t get over the fear or laziness to do it. Prayer seems to help me focus my motivation, so that I can actually manifest intention into action. So focusing motivation is the first reason.
The second reason I do prayer is for my own psychological well-being, which is indirectly related to the well-being of others with whom I interact. For whatever reason (I could go into a very long scientific discussion of possibly-related factors, but we’ll skip that for now), I respond well to verbalizing aloud my thoughts and feelings to an image that embodies qualities I consider highest and best in humans. For me, that image is the goddess Isis. I sit before the statue of her, light a candle, chant to enter a relaxed and ever-so-slightly-altered mental state, then tell her what’s bothering me. It’s a kind of self-talk, but more effective than just sitting down and talking to myself because the technique seems to get around certain blocks thrown up by the rational ego. Very frequently this kind of prayer leads to creative new ideas, new insights, or just a sense of emotional release. I usually leave with a new sense of strength and clarity. So it is clearly therapeutic for me.
Then, when I go from there to interact with my wife, my friends, or anyone else, I am in a better emotional place to relate to them and give them what they need, since I’m no longer as muddled with my own unresolved emotional muck. I would like to think that whatever good behavior we achieve around others is also contagious, so that the influence of my better behavior spreads to those around me, which spreads to those around them, etc. So the second reason for prayer leads to direct benefit for me, and indirect benefit for others.
There is no particular reason why prayer must specifically be engaged to achieve these same results, except that for me it has proven effective and I like it. It does seem to have certain powerful advantages as already alluded to (getting around ego blocks), but I can only speculate on the science of it so I’ll leave it out for now. To make a long story short, it works for me. Other people coming from different experiences and contexts may not find it as effective as another means, but for me it has proven by straight-forward empirical results to be highly effective.
This is a case of “whatever works”, as goes the common Neopagan dictum. Often that phrase can be a smokescreen for lazy thinking, but if we are specific about what it means for something to “work”, it is a powerful maxim to follow.
B. T. Newberg
B. T. founded HumanisticPaganism.com in 2011, and served as managing editor till 2013. His writings on naturalistic spirituality can be found at Patheos, Pagan Square, the Spiritual Naturalist Society, as well as right here on HP. Since the year 2000, he has been practicing meditation and ritual from a naturalistic perspective. After leaving the Lutheranism of his raising, he experimented with Agnosticism, Buddhism, Contemporary Paganism, and Spiritual Humanism. Currently he combines the latter two into a dynamic path embracing both science and myth. He headed the Google Group Polytheist Charity, and organized the international interfaith event The Genocide Prevention Ritual.
In 2009, he completed a 365-day challenge recorded at One Good Deed Per Day. As a Pagan, he has published frequently at The Witch’s Voice as well as Oak Leaves and the podcast Tribeways, and has written a book on the ritual order of Druid organization Ar nDriocht Fein called Ancient Symbols, Modern Rites. Several of his ebooks sell at GoodReads.com, including a volume of creative nonfiction set in Malaysia called Love and the Ghosts of Mount Kinabalu.
Professionally, he teaches English as a Second Language. He also researches the relation between religion, psychology, and evolution at www.BTNewberg.com. After living in Minnesota, England, Malaysia, Japan, and South Korea, B. T. Newberg currently resides in St Paul, Minnesota, with his wife and cat.
B. T. currently serves as the treasurer and advising editor for HP.
Today, we continue our late spring theme, Practice, with Telmaris Greene, who shares her evolving understanding of the role of the placebo effect in ritual practice.

Stage one of my life as a witch: I’m looking up spells and rituals furtively, as though I were googling porn. What would people think of me? Had I lost my mind? But I’m so excited by what I’m seeing. I’m hanging around New Age People, pretending to be above all that stuff, and just interested in the “serious” (read, traditional Asian religious) statues.
Stage two: My curiosity and interest get the better of me. I observe Samhain. This entails buying some equipment and writing out a spell, so it’s hard to pretend I haven’t begun to take the plunge. I’ve got a wand, two dishes for salt and water, four candle holders and candles for the points of the compass, a goddess statue, and a little selenite tower-thing. And some floral and herbal decorations. I rewrite the ritual I found online to omit references to gods and goddesses, and proceed.
Stage three: I’m finding the practice so rewarding, I start keeping a Book of Shadows. I do the rhymey thing with spells, come up with more and more meaningful objects, throw more and more money at New Age People (thanks, guys!). And then kind of peter out.
So what’s the problem, at that point? Well, I can cast a good circle, but then I’m not quite sure what to do with myself. I meditate zen-style for awhile, but I haven’t found any routine practice I can do without written instructions. And it begins to hit me that there is an art to crafting a really good prayer or image or sacred object, and maybe I’m just not that talented.
Stage four: I’m making an awful lot of wands. That seems weird; sort of a material-girl, acquisitive approach to witchcraft. But there is something deeply fulfilling in it, albeit it entails still more expenditure (all those crystals). And I feel like a loon buying stones that are supposed to “bring” me anything. To paraphrase Mole in The Wind in the Willows, stones just aren’t that sort. They know their place. And anyway, the whole notion of special kinds of energy coming off of rocks in a powerful enough way to influence human events…? No.
So why do I keep buying them, and attaching them to wands? And why do I feel such an excitement when I pick up certain stones, and nothing at all when I pick up others?
Stage five: I start thinking about placebos. Because magick–what Starhawk defines as “the power to change consciousness at will”–now seems to me like a system of crafting placebos.
Now that may sound dismissive, or trivializing, but I don’t see it that way. There are better and worse placebos. If placebo pills affect people in our culture, it is because we’ve learned to associate pills with relief of some kind, which would not have happened if medicine were a sham. Likewise, religious placebos only take effect because of people’s long standing associations, and I believe they only become effective in the first place because they carry a deep emotional resonance for the cultures that adopt them. Catholicism had to adopt some of the pagan practices of Northern Europe, because northern Europeans experience the seasons in their very bone marrow. Nothing could make a deep spiritual appeal to these people that didn’t touch that part of their being.
Ann Moura, in Green Witchcraft, writes of the way that our knowledge affects which magick practices “work” for us and which don’t:
Although there are many people who feel Ceremonial magic is a valid approach to magic, anyone who studies history and understands the derivation for the rituals of Ceremonialism is unlikely to be able to continue to use the system with any degree of success because knowledge, which is the gift of the Goddess, alters the perception. Joseph Campbell was unable to remain a Catholic after his study of world mythological patterns, and numerous historians set aside religion after discovering the origins of various faiths, so it should not be considered unusual for a person who rejects mainstream religions to also reject a magical system that has connection to those beliefs.
Okay, so me trying to root my use of stones in Deepak-Chopra-style pseudo-science won’t be effective for me. What kind of placebo is this, then?
The colors matter to me. The textures. The sheen. Color speaks to my heart at such a depth that to repaint a room feels life-changing. Not everyone is that attuned to color, I suppose, but there are certainly color effects that most people experience — red as stimulating, blue as tranquilizing, etc. That you prefer one or the other probably speaks to a biological / psychological need of yours. And I notice that the books on crystals do not work by means of a rigid dogmatism about what-means-what. Always, the recommendation is that if a stone is “calling” you, it’s the stone for you, no matter what the books say.
On the other hand, if the effect on my nervous system is “real,” is the stone a “placebo?” Or is it, rather, that human beings are affected as subjects who live in worlds of meaning, and not merely as objects, via direct biological intervention? Cathedrals are powerful in their evocation of a sense of the sacred, and they do it by means of stone, wood and colored glass. The simple arrangement of stones on my altar, or the crude attachment of meaningful stones to a meaningful stick–-these are acquiring the same power for me.
Stage six (present stage): Bringing a new energy to finding practices that “work”–-and finding that I do this best by starting with what I have, not by starting with other people’s rituals (though I read about those, too).
This essay was originally published on Terlmaris Green’s blog, Skeptical Witch.

Telmaris Green (pseudonym) is a psychotherapist in private practice in Indianapolis. She holds an M.A. in English Renaissance from Indiana University, and a Masters in Marriage and Family Therapy from Christian Theological Seminary in Indianapolis. She has given numerous local presentations on the treatment of trauma, dissociation, and personality disorders, including Dissociative Identity Disorder. Contact her through her wordpress blogs, Skeptical Witch and Solitary Witch.
Today, we continue our late spring theme, Practice, with Ken Apple, who shares his practice of looking for signs of the “Unseen World” of animals moving through our own.
I posted a picture of a rough skinned newt on Facebook. They are beautiful little creatures, lizard like amphibians with rough brown skin on top and smooth orange on the belly. This particular newt had been run over, or possibly attacked by a raccoon or some other animal. It wasn’t flat, smushed is the technical term, but it wasn’t exactly whole either. A co-worker saw the picture and her response was — and I’m paraphrasing, but I think I capture the spirit here — WHAT THE HELL?
Fair enough. I guess it’s not normal to post pictures of mutilated amphibians on your Facebook page. Why would anyone do such a thing?
I remember once walking through the park at dusk and my wife snapped a picture of the trail. It was too dark, the flash went off. We had no expectation that any of those pictures would turn out. When we looked at it at home we were stunned. Glowing white eyes, captured by the flash, lined the trail. They were different heights, different sizes all along the frame. This was my real awakening to the unseen animal world that is all around us.
I see barred owls in the park, especially in the late spring and early summer when the fledglings are out and the owls get really territorial. If you’ve never been dived bombed by a silent avian predator with a wingspan bigger than yours, then you haven’t really lived. Sometimes I spot them in the early morning if I hear a commotion of birds. The dayshift always gives the night shift some shit as they pass each other in the early morning, but more likely I hear the commotion but can’t spot the owl. I find feathers. Even when I don’t see them, I know they are there. If I am aware, sensitive to the clues, I can get a sense of the unseen lives being lived all around me, the unseen lives that photograph uncovered.
I used to find newts all the time as a kid by the pond in my neighborhood, along with frogs and a fish and a dizzying assortment of insects. Long summers living outside (“If you can’t find something to do, I’ll find something for you to do.”) created the greatest opportunity any naturalist could hope for. Yeah, even ten year old naturalists who only knew what that was from reading Dr. Doolittle. I don’t have that kind of time anymore, so I have to be more sensitive.
Death is instructive. If not for death, I wouldn’t know those newts were around. Because of death I know when the mice and voles start having litters. I know when the raccoons and opossums are mating and trying to cross roads into other territories and when they have kicked out their litters and the young are trying to make their way in an unforgiving world.
New fallen snow tells me a lot. Until this year, I had no idea that the neighborhood raccoon prowls my yard every morning. Which explains the barking at three a.m. I’m disappointed it’s not a chupacabra, but I’ll get over it. There are three raccoons that patrol Wildwood Park, their tracks do not overlap, each has their own chunk of territory. I think of them as Ballfield, Playground and Parking Lot.
Just south of me, probably 500 yards as the crow flies, a friend’s neighbor found a dead deer. It had been killed and partially eaten. Up here on the hill, in the foothills of the Cascade Mt. Range, wooded ravines run through suburbia like a circulatory system. It’s too expensive to flatten them and build over them, and wetland regulations make that problematic, since most have running water moving through. So apparently cougars can move unseen through these corridors. Every few years we have a bear sighting as the bears move up from the valley into their winter quarters. It’s interesting that they spot them, but they move on and are never seen again, like ghosts with glowing eyes, only bigger.
I have little confidence in humanity or human culture. We’ve made quite the mess of it, it seems to me, at least in my low moods. It comforts me to know that these animals go on despite us, living their lives, making due. I look for signs of that and I smile, like I know something no one else does. But I’ll try to keep mangled amphibians off my page. Sorry about that.
My name is Ken Apple. I am fifty years old, I live in Puyallup Washington with my wife and youngest son. I attend the Tahoma UU congregation in Tacoma, WA. I have worked in book sales for almost twenty years, because I can’t imagine trying to sell anyone something else.