circleWitchcraft has always played a big role in my life. While a lot of kids were learning badminton or taking trombone lessons, I was reading about witchcraft and how to plant an herb garden. I grew up in the late 1990s and my cultural life was saturated with witchcraft. Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Charmed and Sabrina the Teenage WitchIt was virtually impossible to change the channel without encountering a young woman with magical powers. But it wasn’t just the powers that spells and telekinesis gave me that fascinated me: I was fascinated by the connection magic had to the outside world and the earth around us.
At night, I would curl up in my garden under scarves and blankets and watch the moon wax and wane each night. I would learn the names of all the wildflowers that no one paid any attention to by the roadside and figure out how to use them in spells. These little things brought me overwhelming comfort and I was fascinated by the constellations, the intricate root systems and the magic that was all around me. Maybe magic was in my blood. The first word I uttered was “moon.”
So, after struggling with depression following a challenging workplace experience as an adult, it seemed only natural for me to return to the safe haven of witchcraft to find my mental health again.
In 2018, The world began to look a little blurry. For as long as I could remember, I’d been told this is how my life was supposed to be: get good grades in school, go to college, get a good job. But in my new PR role at a fast-paced agency, I struggled to accept reality. I woke up at 4am every morning in a cold sweat, and every time I washed my hair, long strands of it would fall out of my scalp, leaving a black puddle at my feet.
In addition to the physical symptoms of anxiety, I found that as work stress increased my mood dropped and I fell into a state of depression for months.
Then, in the winter of 2018, I realized how detached I had become from the nature-loving woman I had been and knew something had to change. I made the decision and quit.
In the midst of chaos after quitting a job that allowed me to earn a living and feel like a normal human being, I decided to use this newfound time to reconnect with my longtime loves of boiling cauldrons, flickering candles, and the occult to restore balance to my life and restore my mental health.
Witchcraft falls under the umbrella term Paganism, a form of spiritual practice that involves a deep reverence for the earth. The word “witch” is now very nuanced and people who practice witchcraft can be called many different things, but I think it’s hard to find a Pagan who isn’t involved in saving the earth in some way. I think of a witch as someone who has a deep connection with people, plants, and animals and knows how to use those innate powers to make a difference in the world, usually through magical powers. This might be through spells, rituals, or the concoction of brews and elixirs made from powerful ingredients, but there are many ways to engage with the magical world.
Just as Romantic poets showed their appreciation for nature by chanting its beauty, today Pagans raise their hands to the sky to welcome rain in their time of need, cultivate native plants to feed their bees, and harvest only enough leaves from nature to maintain the balance of local flora. Perhaps this care and reverence for the natural world in the face of climate change is why magic and Paganism are perfect practices to help us reconnect with the world and thrive in the 21st century.
With the witchcraft year unfolding before me, I took the first steps to restore my mental state. It was anxious at first, and I wasn’t used to having time to do anything other than “be productive.” I started by observing the pagan festivals, or sabbats, that witches often follow, such as Yule (winter solstice), Imbolc (the first sign of spring in February), and Ostara (spring equinox). Each of these festivals has different traditions, and during the winter festivals, I spent time outside, absorbing the trace amounts of Vitamin D that the sun gave me, sitting under the trees and focusing on feeling its deep-rooted power resonating in the ground beneath me.
I simply put myself in nature, connected to its sounds and sensations, and let it trigger the healing process in my brain. I took a deep breath. I smiled as I caught a glimpse of a plump pink bullfinch in the hedgerow. Witchcraft is so deeply rooted in nature that the connection to mental health is obvious. The benefits of spending time outdoors are well documented, with one study reporting that spending at least two hours outdoors each week can significantly improve both physical and mental health. As spring approached, instead of the dark finger of anxiety that had been tapping at my neck for the past year, I began to feel hope for the first time in a long time.
As a teenager, I spent a lot of time in nature: bird watching with my dad, going on long walks with my family, and eating jam sandwiches and potato chips in the car at the end. I would come home exhausted, memorizing the bird calls, the calls of blackbirds, wrens and oystercatchers repeating in my head while many of my friends spent their weekends at crowded shopping malls. The idea of being so detached from fluttering feathers and muddy boots unsettled me and shook me to my core. Slowing down and appreciating the magic of the cycle of life reawakened a sense of wonder for the natural world that I had lacked for years.
Of course, we are at a point in history where we are experiencing major changes in working patterns and the environment, and it is natural to look to our foundational practices – practices and rituals that were lost during the Industrial Revolution, when huge numbers of people were forced from their rural homes and severed from their connection to nature.
The pandemic has given some of us time to pause and think about our priorities. A survey found that 46% of people want to leave work this year and do something different, now that remote work is possible. People have spent more time in nature and in their gardens, giving us the space to ask ourselves: “What makes us happy?”, “What makes us feel most like ourselves?”, and “If anything was possible, what would we do?”
Light some vanilla-scented candles, put Himalayan salt in your bath, wrap some seaweed around your face. Adding self-care to our busy lives has become another must-have measure to stave off pandemic burnout. Of course, people were feeling exhausted even before the 21st century, but the past two years have seen the practice of self-love come to the fore. We’ve seen big companies give employees time off to stem the anxiety epidemic, and employees are told to get out into nature, download Headspace, or learn to meditate.
But maybe it’s best to pause for a moment before you spiral into a panic attack?
As we rethink office structures and work practices, many are looking to find a deeper connection with the natural world and their place within it. But birdwatching and outdoor yoga aren’t for everyone. Some people need something more inspiring and immersive to rediscover their true selves. Returning to my love of witchcraft, which began as a teenager, helped me refocus my energy and see the world through a new lens focused on nature, cycles, and my own wellbeing.
As we continue to reach dizzying heights in our technological age, witchcraft can help us return to earth where we can recognize the magic in the everyday and spread our arms out in the moss.
Jennifer Lane is an author and nature writer. Her book, The Wheel: A Witch’s Path Back to the Ancient Self (published in September, £14.99) is available to buy from guardianbookshop.com for £13.04.
