I will warn you: this recipe is fiddly. Definitely feel free to make substitutions.

You will need:

• Basil (9 leaves, preferably fresh)
• A jar with a sealing lid
• A cauldron or fire safe container
• Detritus from other spells (herbs, wax, ash, etc)
• Dry twigs and leaves
• Water gathered from puddles or containers after a storm

Put your dry twigs, leaves, and spell detritus into your fire safe container. I use an old copper kettle for my spellwork. On the side, set up whatever kind of invocation of intention you prefer to use for protection. I used Hestia—I frequently work with Hestia and invoke her for my protection often. To invoke her protection, I simply lit a candle and placed a crystal in front of it that I associate with her.

Once your intentions are set, light your dry twigs and leaves. You may have to relight them several times, because you want this to burn as thoroughly as possible. This process may take some time, and it can be rather smokey, so I advise doing it outside. You’re going to want to burn the leaves, twigs, and spell detritus as thoroughly as possible. Use this time to pray, meditate, or worship—whatever you prefer.

Once the fire has burned down as completely as you can get it to, let the ashes cool. Then, with your bare hands (yes, this is messy!) you’ll sift through the ashes, pulling out anything that you can’t easily crush. Add these pieces to your jar.

Once the ash is loose and fine, set it aside. It can be used for black salt later.

Take your jar and add or gather your left over storm water. You’re adding what remains after a fire to what remains after a storm—this is a potion for resilience, after all!

Once your jar is full, add three leaves of basil three times (nine in total).

Take your wand (or incense stick, or left hand) and make three clockwise circles around your jar, three times (for nine total). Then, screw the lid on tight, and leave the jar in the sun for three days to let the basil sun infuse.

When you’re done, you should have a light green/grey potion! You’ll have to sift out the leaves and chunky bits. Bottle it up and use it for anointing, spells, and anything else you want… just probably don’t drink it!

The idea behind this potion is that you’re taking what is left after various difficult things. A fire is representative of a hot, fierce, painful time. The chunky bits that remain have refused to be burned. A storm is representative of an emotional whirlwind that just won’t let you down, and the water that remains is the calm emotional state you want to be left with. Like I said, since this requires an entire burning ritual AND left over storm water, it can be a bit fiddly… but I have high expectations of the outcome.

Happy witchcrafting!

Chorus: I am one with the world, the world is one with me! The water flowing in my veins has been in sky and sea!

There is iron in my cells There is iron in my blood! How can I be apart from earth When her my heart does flood?

Chorus

There is salt in my cells There is salt in my mind! How can I be unclean when Each thought renews me in kind?

Chorus

There is water in my cells I am water through and through! How can I be unnatural When I'm made like the dew?

Well, calling this list “essential” might be a little overstated. I’m a huge believer in the fact that you don’t need anything—ANYTHING—to start your craft, but sometimes, it can be nice to invest in yourself financially. I’m not saying go spend more than you can afford on crystals (or other tools); I am saying that, if it would help you be more intentional with your craft, and you think that would be good for you, then there is beauty in getting things for yourself and just for yourself. It’s a careful balance to strike.

That established, there are also a lot of crystals out there. What should you get if you don’t have anything at all? And where should you get them?

Here’s my list of the crystals that I use most frequently, and that bring me the most joy. They’re also all pretty readily available—I find that I don’t use my more expensive crystals as often, since I have less of them and I subconciously save them for “special occasions.”

A quick note: I personally don’t believe in ‘resonating energies’ or ‘vibrations.’ I believe that these crystals and their symbolic meanings can help me set my intentions for a day and have a positive psychological effect. But you’re free to believe whatever helps you best!

1. Amethyst

Amethyst is, by far, my favorite crystal to use. I use it to remind myself not to be anxious. I use it to calm my thoughts, and I use it to remind myself to be patient.

Note: Amethyst fades in the sun! Keep it safe by not leaving it out in a window or outside for too long.

2. Black Tourmaline

No list of crystals would be complete without black tourmaline. It’s a self-cleansing rock, and it’s a very powerful reminder to me that my dark thoughts don’t have to stay with me. I often visualize squeezing them out into the tourmaline, and the tourmaline cleansing them, absorbing them into its deep, black shine.

3. Agate

I have to admit it, I’m still not sure whether the large amount of red stones I have are carnelian or agate. Due to the banding they have, I’m going with agate.

4. Labradorite

Labradorite is one of my favorite stones to look at. It just looks like a magical rock, what with the rainbow play of colors over the green-grey stone. It reminds me that I do have power over myself, and power over my circumstances. It makes me feel the witchiest out of all my rocks.

5. Dalmation Jasper

Dalmation Jasper is a playful stone. As someone who works in childcare, this is really important for me personally. However, I find that even on days I don’t work, carrying Dalmation Jasper helps me take everything a little less seriously. This is a rock I started carrying with me and using in rituals only more recently, and I definitely enjoy it.

6. Hematite

Hematite is my power stone. Due to its natural iron content, it’s quite heavy, and putting one in my palm always makes me feel like I’m holding something that could be used as a weapon. This makes sense, since Hematite is a stone of “masculine energy” according to many traditions.

7. Rose Quartz

Good for self care, feminine energy, and sexuality, rose quartz is a versatile must-have to me. It’s also frequently sold carved into fun (read: phallic) shapes, which can be fun for certain rituals.

Where do I buy crystals?

Usually, I prefer to buy my crystals on Etsy, from smaller sellers. You have to be careful, though—there are many people trying to sell crystals that are advertised as one thing, but are actually another. A common and well-known substitution is baked amethyst for citrine. Real citrine has small, brown-yellow points atop white, whereas baked amethyst is much more golden and singularly-pointed. I’ve never successfully bought citrine on Etsy.

Here are a few of the shops I trust on Etsy and have ordered from, just to start you off. (Note: I have no financial links to these shops and gain nothing from promoting them! I just know looking through all the shops for reputable ones can be difficult.)

1. Thoughts of Healing

This shop has a number of beautiful, small crystal carvings, as well as bracelets and points. And yes, they do have the aforementioned phallic carvings!

2. Sweeetttt Jewelry

This shop has a number of stones as well as jewelry items. I was especially happy with the calcite I ordered—it was chunky and beautifully colored, just like I wanted.

If you can’t find something you want on Etsy, what do you do? What if you want a very specific crystal, or a very specific shape?

That’s when I recommend the third shop on my list:

3. Crystal River Gems

Crystal River Gems has pretty much anything you could want, though the prices are a little higher for some things (especially rare stones).

My favorite thing about Crystal River Gems, though, is their Scratch and Dent section. If you go to their selenite option, you can get truly remarkable deals on large pieces of carved selenite that have been, well, scratched and dented. Since selenite is so soft, this happens rather frequently.

I myself ordered a large selenite wand and selenite athame from this section, and was extremely pleased with both. Neither were very scratched at all. My wand had a minor chip in the tip. And I got both of them, together, for less than $20—even though the wand is quite large.

Crystals, and their use in witchcraft, isn’t everyone’s favorite thing. There are ethical concerns that come with some crystals, especially the more valuable ones. If this concerns you specifically, something I’ve done in the past is gone to antique shops and bought my crystals there. That’s where I got all of my carnelian, actually, as well as some beautiful carved jade leaves.

But if you enjoy the click-clack shinies—if you have a magpie witch brain—crystals can be an excellent way to ground and center your intentions.

I hope this list has been a helpful place to start!

However, I found that I had a little extra space, and since I love filling every bit of available space, I found some vintage nightshade botanical prints, printed them out, and had a good time painting them and gluing them in.

Since I’m an anarchocommunist, I’m here to share them with you. Feel free to use them in any way you like: all of the images are public domain, from the Wikimedia Commons.

Here’s where you can download the printables.

(Here’s what they look like, by the way! Happy crafting!)

It is the nightly custom of every good mother after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for next morning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day. If you could keep awake (but of course you can't) you would see your own mother doing this and you would find it very interesting to watch. It's quite like tidying up drawers. You would see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humorously over some of your contents, wondering where on Earth you picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek, as if it were a nice kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake in the morning, the naughtiness and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out the prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on.

This is a spell for you to sweep away the cobwebs of your own mind and put things back into their right places.

Ingredients

• Five cleansing stones (I use smokey quartz. Black tourmaline would be a good choice too.)
• One black candle
• Incense of your choice
• A sea shell

Ritual

Light your candle and put it next to or on your shell, if your shell is the kind that will hold a candle upright.

Put your right hand on your altar, next to the candle and shell. Put the first cleansing stone above your middle finger, just touching it, then arrange the others so that each finger and your thumb has a stone touching it.

Light your incense. Wave it in an infinity shape under your face, inhaling as you choose, letting the smoke wash over your head.

Imagine water washing out from the shell, through your mind, sweeping out the cobwebs. Imagine folding any anxious or negative thoughts that may come to you as you sit, and putting the folded thoughts away. Allow yourself to be in the moment, no matter what you’re feeling, until your thoughts settle.

Afterwards, remember to snuff your candle and thank it, as well as thank the stones and the shell. It’s a small way to take care of your ritual tools.

What I have been doing a lot of is crafting, and it’s given me a lot of time to think about witchy crafting, intent, and enchantments. I’ve been working on my Christmas gifts. I have very mixed thoughts on Christmas. To make a snack analogy, my thoughts on Christmas are like a trail mix composed entirely of the much-hated banana nuts and ancient husks of once-raisins with a few M&Ms tossed in out of pity. I’ll probably write a post on it at some point in the near future. 

But I do enjoy giving gifts. It’s probably my primary love language, if we’re subscribing to that pseudoscience. One of the gifts I’m making is for a new holiday tradition that my partner and I are starting: The Ugly Sweater Giveaway.

The Ugly Sweater Giveaway is an overly-ambitious, entirely entertaining, finger-hurting endeavor in which I knit an ugly sweater, my partner wears it throughout the holiday season, and then we donate it to a thrift store on Boxing Day. Repeat every year, allowing me to master fair isle and the art of sardonic Christmas patterns.

This first Christmas sweater is an Ugly, American Patriotism sweater.

This is my first time doing fair isle. For those of you who don’t know, fairisle is a traditional knitting technique for doing colorwork, or putting multiple colors into a piece of knitting. Mine isn’t great yet—the tension is uneven, so the stitches are bumpy. But I’m already so much better than I was.  I’m optimistic about my progress both for this year, and for years to come.

Next year, I intend to start in early November. I ordered my yarn too late this year, and I’ve been so rushed to finish for Christmas photos that I think this year’s sweater will be a sweater vest instead. 

I worry that my frustration has been seeping into this sweater. I haven’t been as careful with it as I could have been; I haven’t been as loving with it as I could have been. I worry that the intentions haven’t been as, well, intentional as I wanted them to be. My stitches aren’t perfect. There are loose edges; in some places the fairisle has pulled tight; one of the front shoulders is longer than the other. I almost cried over it tonight.

But then, I took a step back, went to get some Coca-Cola for me and my partner, then drank it. Only then did I come back to the sweater—and I realized, in addition to it being an overly ambitious first fair isle project AND my first real sweater project, it could be a metaphor. 

I don’t have to like my sweater’s imperfections. I don’t have to be proud of them. I can even work to fix them, weaving in loose ends strategically to shore up loose stitches. 

But I also shouldn’t hate the entire project—the overly ambitious, and yet still beautiful, project—because of a few bubbly stitches.

I’m not the person I want to be. I definitely don’t have the history I want to have. I don’t have all the traits I want to have: I’m not as patient as I want to be, or as organized, or as healed from past traumas.

Some of these things I choose to flaunt. Yeah, I’m a bit of an ADHD mess. I openly work on coping with my mess, enlisting my friends and loved ones to help me set reminders, and clean my space, and organize my files. I’m proud to have ADHD, and function both in spite of and because of it.

But there are other scars I don’t share. The traumas that are dark and deep. Only a few people need to see that side of me, and only those people are going to see that side of me. It’s not the time to wear that scar openly. It’s not the time to shout it from the rooftops—and it might never be.

Both of these are ways of accepting imperfections. Some flaws are the misaligned eagles on the front of my sweater—charming, and kooky, and adding to the entire piece. Some are the loose, ugly edge stitches, that I will quietly weave back together to strengthen the entire piece. 

Both of these are forms of acceptance. Both of these are a way to make peace with my mistakes. The intentions behind both of these can be love. Love can look different in different places.

And so my sweater, as full of frustration as it may be, will also be full of love.

It can be hard to find time to do a ritual. In fact, a lot of witch tumblr is dedicated to this:

First of all: using alphabet soup as divination needs to become a thing.

Second: I think that anyone who has tried witchcraft has been there. And in this post, I want to talk about why that's not only okay—it's actually necessary.

See, I see a lot of posts and tweets and tiktoks talk about how “lazy witchcraft is valid”. And it completely is. But for me, I aspire to high ritual—I aspire, one day, to have a set of robes of every color, ready for whatever kind of ritual I want to perform—white for a blessing, black for protection, pink for getting on my hot and heavy vibes™. I want an alter cloth that I spent days embroidering with blood, sweat, and tears (usually literally) upon which I can lay out my crystals and candles. I want to burn sigils embroidered on soft cloth, I want to drink potions brewed with crystals in the infuser. I have aspirations to incorporate beautiful, lush witchcraft into my day to day life.

But sometimes, I am 'tapwater sailormoon' witch. I bless my partner's coffee by grinding it clockwise, then call it a day on my ritual practice, and I go to bed feeling like I could have done more—and that if I had done more, I would feel better about myself.

The important thing about being a witch, to me, is doing the rituals and work that you connect with. I love color symbolism. I am drawn to it. So I incorporate it in almost everything. I love flames (who doesn't); so I burn candles and sigils and herbs. It's nice having a real fireplace that I can use as an altar nowadays, so I don't have to worry about the smoke alarms going off.

But I also struggle with depression. And a lot of other things. But the depression is the relevant one here. And depression doesn't want to do rituals: depression wants to play the Sims for seven hours, then eat boxed mac n cheese, cry, then sleep, all without having drunk any water all day long.

Like with artists, I think there's a stereotype of the 'depressed, wise, reclusive witch'. But once again, like with artists, a successful witch is a happy, healthy witch. Depressed me doesn't do rituals. It's happy, or at least healthy, me that's willing to put in the hours of work it takes to make altar cloths; the little intentionality and extra steps to make my tea into a potion; the set aside time and space to do a little candle work.

So let's talk about the place lazy witchcraft actually should hold. This is obviously just my opinion—what I have lived. After all, my aspiration is for the fancy witchcraft. But if you aspire to be a ravioli witch, have at it—as I said earlier, I completely support this. Please send photos of your ravioli witchcraft to my personal Mastodon account, The_Augusto@mstdn.social. I want to see this.

But if you aspire to the artsy, fancy, make-your-mother-pray-extra-hard-for-you witchcraft, but you find yourself being stymmied by mental illness, here's my advice:

Don't focus on the fancycraft for a bit.

Focus on your mental health.

Get a therapist. Get meds. Go to therapy. Use the Finch self care app (not a sponsored post I swear), or some equivalent that works for you.

Then start incorporating your witchcraft into it. Have you been journaling? Start putting sigils on the top of your journal entries. Have you been hydrating? Stick some (non-soluable) crystals in the bottom of your water bottle. Do your lazy witchcraft as an integration and an enhancement of your self care.

It will start coming naturally. I was sick the other day, and still am—everything hurt. I thought a bath might help. But I didn't just take a nice hot bath—I stuck some obsidian and smoky quartz in the bottom, to try and absorb that bad, negative sick energy. I put in some agate to try to reinvigorate myself. I floated chamomile on the top to bless my body.

The bath didn't end up helping—not physically, anyway. But I felt a little rejuvinated that I had tried. That I had gone out of my way to set my intention with my bath, even if my body hurt as much afterwards as it did before.

And maybe that does mean it worked.

As time passes, it'll be easier to do bigger and bigger witchcrafts—because hopefully, with self care and meds and therapy, you'll start to heal. Your little self care witchcrafts will get more and more elaborate.

And soon, you'll look up, and you'll find that you're in the robes that you knit on that bad day as a concentration and healing spell, using the altar cloth you embroidered over six months of quiet self care time, performing little spells that you came up with to bless your coffee in conjunction to make an incantation that would make your Catholic great grandmother have a stroke on the spot.

I don't think this is just true of witchcraft, either. For my friends who are more traditionally religious, I think this can apply to prayer or devotion—I know that I used to feel like a bad Christian for not having hours-long bible reading sessions. And while there's probably a lot of Christian guilt to unpack there, starting small, with a verse before bed or writing a blessing from psalms on your meds box, can probably work in a similar way. Or, for my artist friends—not every project has to be huge and expansive, especially when mental health is involved. A little doodle in your therapy journal, or a song you wrote about taking meds that you hum in the morning, can be your own little ritual.

So go forth, and may your lazy witchcraft—or art or prayer—be blessed.