Earth Witch, page 5
I turned my gaze from the behemoth lantern toward the plants growing on all sides of the trail. Native salal berries mingled with grasses and wildflowers, some perhaps considered invasive, but persisting in the harsh environment. I noticed cut flower heads of yarrow. The farther I walked, the more evidence I saw that someone had come and snipped off every head without a care about the future generations of flowers, or the pollinators who needed them, or other folks who might also have wanted this medicine. An unease set in within me.
Crestfallen and disappointed, I decided to head to the windy beach. The wind ripped so ferociously that it tore off my ratty sweat-stained hat and it flew into a gulch. I gingerly found my way in and back out again, hat firmly in hand. I felt in my body that I needed to sit and to do some deep listening to hear what the place had to say, if anything.
I found a grassy outcropping right near a cliff on the edge of the ocean where the waves heaved and slapped the rocks. The beach there was desolate, with the bones of our earth and the bones of trees and of our civilization scattered all over it. Still alive yet quieter now, these natural artifacts had stories to tell—and I wanted to hear them. I settled near a large angelica plant—one known to protect and heal. This plant's large umbels reached up for the sky, and small pollinating bees rested in the flowers as the winds calmed and a soft breeze began to blow.
I reached down into the soil energetically. Dry grasses rattled around me, and the ground still held heat from the day's sun. It radiated up and warmed me. I cleared my mind as best I could, but all I could feel was stress. Tears began to flow as I let the sensations course through my body. The grasses, the hillsides, and other plants conveyed to me their own tension from a long bout of dryness, and I wondered how much of their stress I held in my own body and how much of mine they were holding. The sensations were mutual. The land was stressed and, in turn, so was I. I knew then how to be within the land, and I knew that what these plants needed was a gentle hand and gentle treading—to give and support, and not take.
Whoever had harvested that yarrow may have done so with good intentions, but now I understood that act wasn't necessarily welcomed by the land. If you have a friend who is stressed, wouldn't you want to ask how you could be of service? The land is not just a friend, but a lover—one we can look to with compassion and care. One with needs that we can listen to deeply. When we listen deeply and make that connection, we achieve a certain knowing that others do not have. We learn how to orient ourselves.
Before I left the beach, I made an offering of my hair for the land to remember me by and poured the remaining water from my canteen onto the ground. We must always notice and listen to the land that we inhabit and recognize our place within its ecology. We must always ask how we can be of service and do right by the spirits of the land with whom we're interacting. From there we can know, and the witch is one who knows.
Deep listening is not complicated, but it takes time and practice. Start by sitting or walking quietly in a space that calls to you. At first, your mental noise may be distracting. It often takes time to adjust from one space to another. Sometimes when I am rambling along my favorite trail, it takes a few miles of walking before I can tune in. All the natural world around me seems blurry and confusing for a moment, until I adjust from my previous civilized surroundings. Transitioning from our fast lives of cars and technology to something slower takes a moment. Allow it to happen. Take the space you need to tune in, and do not rush the process. You will arrive when you are meant to arrive.
Find a favorite spot and walk or sit with the land for a spell. Notice what you perceive, what comes up within you, and what you observe about the space you're occupying. Digest those sensations and let them rest deep within you as you take in the needs of your environment.
Discovering Places of Power
Once upon a time, our ancestors venerated places of power, and some still do to this day. Nowadays, however, we often need to look with new eyes to discover the power that resides in the spaces around us. We must look where others might not, taking in small details as we learn the art of interpretation, and trusting our intuition as we gather more information.
Once when I was on a long, rambling hike along the Oregon coast, I stumbled upon a shrine to an indigenous woman. It was in a small clearing at the base of a long, narrow draw leading high up into the mountains of the coastal range. Around the shrine, I noted signs warning about trespassing and vandalism. Incredibly, some people were actually misguided enough to vandalize this sacred spot. As I approached the space, I noticed an intricate wooden statue of the woman, under which were many offerings. This was not only a place of power, but also one in which the story of an individual and her people was being honored.
In my pack, I had many beautiful stones that I'd gathered while walking along the beach. One, in particular, was very special to me—jasper and agate interwoven in the shape of an egg. I knew an offering had to be made, however, so I chose to offer this precious stone to her and to this sacred space. As I continued my walk, the space and shrine lingered with me for some time. Then it occurred to me, in the form of a deep sense of knowing at the center of my being, that she was the land's guardian spirit, and through grace and luck I had encountered this place of power.
Sometimes we stumble upon places of power in our wanderings, and sometimes we find them right under our noses. How do you find them? By wandering your landscape and locality and practicing deep listening. Go for a walk, shift your perspective, approach your environment with curiosity, and see what you can discover. Your eyes will tune into something different—something that most are not able or willing to see or that they take for granted. Maybe you already know a place of power that has been with you for some time.
Do you have a favorite hike? Maybe it is your favorite for a reason. Do you prefer one particular route in the city where you live for its beauty? There's probably something there worth exploring. Is there a particular patch of plants that you like to visit regularly? Check in with these spots, revisit them, and see what you perceive. Often, it is our bodies that tell us we've encountered a place of power. Sometimes, we just know and are in recognition of the sacred. A waterfall, a grove of trees, a river bend, a high desert peak, a stone outcropping—these powerful and sacred locations can be anything and everywhere.
Let your body be your point of contact—notice how you feel within. Move your consciousness to your heart space and be open to what surrounds you. Sometimes you may be overrun with chills or a warming sensation; sometimes the hair on the back of your neck may rise. Sometimes you may just be drawn to a particular space. Today's society encourages us to ignore these cues, or to think that they are foolish. And indeed, these cues have been and are actively being snuffed out. It is your ancestral right, however, to participate in this connection of feeling.
Recognizing places of power can clarify not just the landscape around you, but the powerful points and landmarks within that space. Take a field trip and see what you can find! All you need to do is step out your front door and go on an adventure to notice the power of the spaces around you. This not only deepens your knowledge of your environment; it also brings you into a deeper connection to it.
Meeting Plant and Animal Kin
Growing up as a child in a military family, I moved around often and had to acquaint myself with new surroundings every few years. Little did I know then that I was building my own witch's toolkit within myself. Whether you've lived in single place all your life or have just recently moved, it's a valuable practice to reach out to the spirits who inhabit your surroundings.
Maps are a great tool to have as you start. Obtain a topographical map so that you can see the contours of your landscape. This can help you identify any peaks, draws, ravines, and bodies of water. Reviewing these maps can be a fun way to explore your area without even leaving your home. You can get great maps through your local state parks or forest service. You can even find them on the Internet. Maps can give you a bigger picture of the environment in which you live, and you can begin to orient yourself using the four cardinal directions: north, south, east, and west. Maps are a delightful way to take a mental adventure through your landscape.
Next, do a little research to find naturalist or plant guidebooks for your area. You can locate these at local bookstores, in your local library, or at local visitor centers. They often stock informational books on your area. Take your time to find books that are a good fit for you. While some may consider it cheating, you can also find plant-identification apps for your smartphone. Plant identification will be key to your work, as plants grow everywhere, and you'll want to get to know your fellow residents, as they play a very important role in your local ecology and in your journey. I recommend Thomas Elpel's book, Botany in a Day: The Patterns Method of Plant Identification.
As you explore, you'll quickly learn which plants are predominant in your area—the species that are most prolific there. If you live in a deciduous forest where many species abound, make note of the trees or shrubs that stand out the most to you. For example, I live in the high desert of eastern Oregon. Our most common tree species are conifers—pines, spruces, and firs. More specifically, Ponderosa pine, Douglas fir, and Engelmann spruce.
In your wanderings, you may also encounter what are known as “invasive” species, or plants like ornamentals that are not considered to be native to a particular region. Many look down on invasive species. But the truth is that they often work in mysterious ways that we do not yet understand. Some species help regenerate the soil and pave the way for new growth to occur. Others, like the invasive Himalayan blackberry of my region, provide food and shelter to birds, mammals, reptiles, and even humans. They often create massive barriers for land that needs to heal, or hold boundaries for land that may be vulnerable. This is a controversial view on invasives, but it's something worth looking at with different eyes.
While plants are often seen as stationary beings, because of rapid climate change, plants are on the move. Where certain plants may have thrived in a certain spot 100 years ago, they may not be able to thrive anymore, but may have become more suited to a different place. Nature, plants, and land are not fixed and static objects. They move, transform, and shift. These beings operate on a timescale to which we're not accustomed or that we don't even really completely understand. Often, restoration and conservation work seeks to return environments to the way they were before the climate began to change so rapidly, not to how they are in the present moment or will be in a shifting future. If you encounter these plant kin, be curious about them and what their role is in the environment's ecology. Their only crime is that they're thriving in a location where the powers that be have deemed them a threat to economic prosperity and expansion.
Once, I was obsessed with the herb Solomon's seal, which is used in folk magic to encourage wisdom and understanding. It was not native to the place where I lived at the time. I was frustrated, as I wanted to encounter this plant while it was thriving in the soil. One day during one of my long walks through the city, I found a massive patch of escaped Solomon's seal growing in a lush spot near a pedestrian overpass—they were everywhere! I was delighted to find these wild-growing magical roots. After spending some time with them, I harvested two roots and used them in my practice. The moral of the story? Don't overlook ornamental species or see them as invalid as you research your spirits of place.
Understanding who the animal inhabitants are in your location is also a great way to build your knowledge of the area's spirits. Connecting with our animal kin links us closer to the land and its cycles. What we learn from observing their behaviors and habits can inform how we, in turn, interact with the land, which is critical to an earth witch's practice. Wolves were one such creature with whom I was able to draw an observable connection. While living in my highdesert home, I'd heard rumors of wolves living there, and I confirmed those rumors through frequent sightings and, sadly, evidence of human predation. Antiwolf sentiment runs high among ranchers whose lives depend on their herds. I discovered the importance of educational programs designed to teach the ranching community about the important role of the wolf in our local ecology. As earth witches, we can act in support of apex predators who need protection. We can vote to protect these beautiful beings and participate in programs to further our understanding of them.
Stolen Land
We all live on stolen land in the United States. I come from an ancestry of colonial settlers, so it is important to me that I acknowledge that I live on land stolen from several different tribes. In your own exploration of connection to the land you live on, you must remember, understand, and support those who were there before you. Research tribes that live (or lived) in your area. Read their history from their perspective. As you read the history of these tribes, do so with a very critical eye. Much of it was written from the perspective of encroaching settlers. If ethnobotany—the study of the use of plants in folklore, medicine, magic, and religion—interests you, know that much of that knowledge was co-opted from oppressed people whom our government tried to eradicate.
Be sure to inform yourself about those who originally inhabited (and perhaps still inhabit) the land where you reside. Check out your local library or search the Internet for local tribal information. Knowing who the original stewards of the land are is critical, as you can look to them to lead the way in land restoration efforts. If possible, volunteer your time at a local community clean-up. Be of service to your environment. Being a witch means understanding who the original caretakers of the land are and supporting their efforts, even in seemingly “mundane” ways. Be sure to make this a part of your practice.
Many tribes have websites where you can obtain a list of native-owned businesses to support. Give your spare dollars to indigenous artists, activists, and communities. This is an important way in which you can connect with and honor the spirits of the land. We are all children of this earth, and it is our sovereign human right and obligation to interact with the land in respectful and reverent ways. Understanding the original stewards of the land can only serve to deepen your understanding of the landscape itself. Learn about and respect the culture and sacred sites of those who came before you. If you're going to interact with the landscape, you must know your own place in it.
Connecting with Spirit
Being familiar with the spirits of the land you inhabit is a perfect way to begin connecting with and understanding the landscape around you. Then you can further your connection to the land through offerings, divinations, and other practices. There are many ways to do this, and we'll look at some of them in the coming chapters.
For now, I encourage you to develop and listen to your intuition as you practice. When sitting with or visiting a piece of land with whose spirits you feel a connection, simply ask if they have a message for you, or what they might like as an offering. Often, this intuition arrives as a message that feels as if it comes from outside you. I have heard it described by many as something just dropping in—like a droplet of water that creates ripples in the pool of your mind and heart. This knowing comes from both within and without. It merges with you as you merge with the land and with spirit.
Of course, intuition is by definition deeply personal, so I cannot tell you how these messages will look for you on your journey. My best advice is to listen deeply to your innermost thoughts. A meditation practice (see page 66) or a grounding and centering practice (see chapter 4) can help you get in touch with your intuition. Learning to differentiate between your thinking mind's voice and the voice of that which surrounds you takes time, patience, and practice. Don't worry, it will come to you naturally over time.
If you feel unsure about the messages you receive, you can perform an experiment. Say you feel as if a tree is asking for an offering from you, but you're unsure if it's your mind speaking or the tree. Follow through on the offering and see what comes of it. Much of a witch's practice is based on doing. Without action, magic is not worked. Better to do the magic than not. It is how you gain experience—by doing. Learning how to differentiate between the voice of your mind and the voice of the land is another aspect of the deep listening I spoke of. Stick with it and soon it will become natural to you.
Offerings
And finally, when it comes to making offerings to the land, I would be remiss if I didn't remind you to be sure that your offerings do not cause harm to the environment. Too often, I have found the remains of offerings that do not break down or cannot be consumed by the earth—like plastics and glitter. Use sound judgment in whatever you choose to leave as an offering.
When I was getting to know elder trees near my home, it took me a while to court them—just as you would do if you were sweet on someone. A full year passed before I ever harvested any of their medicine. I left cream, honey, and strands of my hair as offerings. I harvested only after I felt I had established a mutual connection of reciprocity and received the message: “You may gather from me.” Now, I always make offerings whenever I harvest, often leaving them at the largest tree in the area. Some spirits command a lot of coaxing and tending, and this is the case with elder trees. However, some plants, like dandelions, are quite giving. It all depends on the individual nature and personality of the spirit.
Good basic offerings to start with are hair, honey, milk, and cream, as they are sweet and gentle. Use caution around what are called “hot” offerings like alcohol, caffeine, or blood. Be sure that you know what the spirit wants. Hot offerings can really activate spirits and “rile them up,” so to speak. Stick with gentle or “cool” offerings when you're first starting out—items like gentle incenses and sweet and basic foods with a minimum of hot spices. One of the best ways to charm spirits is with sweets. This is a gentle and friendly way to get to know them. Tobacco can be helpful as well, as it helps establish an atmosphere of communication and connection. I often use it as an offering with trees, along with honey. Think about the kinds of gifts we give to our human loved ones. We give cookies and bake cakes; we offer favorite foods; and sometimes we share tobacco as a bonding experience. These are the types of cool offerings that the spirits love.
