Posts by Papa Gee

Enchanting Everyday Objects: Turning the Mundane into the Magical

Enchanting Everyday Objects: Turning the Mundane into the Magical

Posted on by Papa Gee

Most people overcomplicate magical tools. They think the work only becomes serious when the supplies look old, rare, dangerous, or hard to get. That is not how folk magic survived. It survived because people used what was already in the house, already on the body, and already moving through daily life.

A coat can be fixed for protection. A pair of shoes can be fixed to block tricks laid in your path. A pen can be fixed to carry your command into a contract or a court paper. A pocket mirror can be carried to throw gossip, envy, and petty crossing back where it came from. None of that is new, and none of it is far-fetched. It is old magical thinking used in a practical way.

The object does not have to look magical. It has to be close enough to you to do its job.

Use What Is Already in Reach

There is a long history behind this kind of work. People in Britain and early America hid everyday objects in the walls of homes for protection. Old shoes were some of the most common. A worn shoe had shaped itself to the foot and held the trace of the person who wore it. If something harmful entered the house, the shoe was thought to draw it off or trap it before it reached the family.

The same kind of thinking sits behind a horseshoe over a doorway. Iron has long been treated as protective, so the horseshoe became more than scrap metal. In Hoodoo, silver dimes were worn at the ankle as a warning against foot-track magic. If the silver blackened, then something nasty had likely been stepped in.

That is the mindset behind enchanting ordinary things. You are not waiting for a magical object to appear. You are taking hold of a plain object and giving it a job.

Clean It Before You Work It

Before you fix an object for any purpose, clear it off. There is no point dressing a thing for your own work while it is still carrying the feel of wherever it came from and whoever handled it last.

A coat from the thrift store, an old ring from an estate sale, a used wallet, a key ring from a flea market, even a brand-new item from a store has passed through hands and places before it got to you. Sometimes that matters more than people think.

Smoke is the easiest way to clear it. Frankincense is good for that. White sage works well too. Pass the object through the smoke and pray over it while you do. If the object can safely get wet, wash it lightly with Florida Water or whiskey. Metal and glass usually take well to that. Fabric usually does better with smoke or a light dusting of powder worked into the lining or seams.

The point is simple. Clear the object first. Then it is ready to take your command.

Clothing Is Easy to Fix

Clothing takes to magical work easily because it already knows you. It stays against the skin, holds your body heat, picks up your scent, and moves where you move. That makes it useful in a hurry.

If you know you are walking into a rough place, dust the inside of a coat or jacket with Fiery Wall of Protection powder before you put it on. A bitter workplace, a family gathering full of envy, a courtroom, a meeting with someone who smiles in your face and stirs trouble behind your back. Those are all places where protective clothing makes sense.

The garment does not have to do anything dramatic. It only has to sit on you and hold the condition you gave it. That is enough.

There is also an old trick of wearing a piece of clothing inside out when you believe someone is actively throwing for you. The reversal is meant to confuse the work and turn it off course. It is the sort of trick old people kept around because it was easy to do when trouble showed up without warning.

That matters. Good folk magic is often the kind you can do while life is already moving.

Shoes Can Block Trouble or Draw a Condition In

Shoes are strong tools because foot-track work is old and stubborn. Many traditions treated the feet as vulnerable because they support the whole body and stay in contact with the ground. Once you understand that, the shoe stops being just footwear.

If you are worried about stepping in baneful work, put a pinch of salt and black pepper inside your shoes before leaving the house. You do not need much. Just enough to give the shoes a defensive job. The salt cleanses. The pepper pushes back.

If the work is for money, favor, or opportunity, then fix the shoes a different way. A silver dime or a pinch of Money Drawing powder in the left shoe works well before a job interview, business meeting, or negotiation. You are walking the condition in with every step you take.

That is one reason shoe magic makes so much sense. The action and the intention are already working together.

Pens Carry More Weight Than People Think

A pen is a good magical tool because it is used to make things official. People sign contracts with it, approve papers with it, settle business with it, and put their name to matters that can change their life.

That gives the pen a very clear kind of power.

If you need to carry authority into a room, dress the pen with Commanding oil or Boss Control oil. Rub the oil upward from the tip toward the end of the pen, drawing the influence toward yourself. Then wrap the pen in a petition paper and state plainly what you want it to do. Bring favor. Carry my authority. Bind this agreement. Cause the truth to be seen. However you word it, be specific.

Let it sit overnight before you use it. Then take that same pen with you when it is time to sign.

This is not hard to understand. If the tool is being used to make the matter official, then that is the tool you fix.

Pocket Mirrors Make Fine Defensive Work

A pocket mirror is one of the handiest reversing tools a person can carry. It does not draw attention, it travels easily, and it works quietly.

The old mirror box forced a target to sit with their own deeds and face the harm they had caused. A pocket mirror works on a simpler version of the same idea. Whatever is sent toward you gets met and turned back.

Dress the mirror lightly with Reversing oil or Uncross and Reverse oil. Pray over it and tell it what it is there to do. Then keep it in your pocket, purse, or bag with the mirror facing outward, away from your body. That part matters. You want it meeting what comes toward you, not bouncing things back at yourself.

A compact mirror works just as well. To everybody else, it is just something practical you carry around. That is fine. It does not need to impress anybody in order to work.

Tell the Object What Its Job Is

This is where people get lazy. They dab a little oil on something, say a few vague words, and expect the object to do the rest. It does not work that way.

Hold the object in your hands and tell it exactly what it is there to do. Keep it plain. If it is a coat, tell it to shield you from envy, gossip, and crossed conditions. If it is a pair of shoes, tell them to block tricks and drive off what should not follow you home. If it is a pen, command it to carry your authority into the matter. If it is a mirror, tell it to throw back what is sent against you.

Do not give it three jobs when one will do. A fixed object works best when the purpose is clear.

Once the object is cleaned, dressed, and commanded, use it. Wear the coat. Put on the shoes. Carry the mirror. Sign with the pen. Let it move through your regular life the same way it always would. The difference is that now it is working for you.

That is how ordinary things become magical. Not because they look different. Because they are no longer neutral.

Cones or Sticks? Picking the Right Incense for the Job

Cones or Sticks? Picking the Right Incense for the Job

Posted on by Papa Gee

A lot of people treat incense cones versus sticks like it’s the same product in a different shape, and sometimes it is. But shape changes how the incense burns, how the smoke behaves, and what the room feels like while it’s working. So yes, preference matters, and there are also very practical reasons you might choose one over the other.

How they burn

A cone is a compact little pile of incense material, so it tends to burn hotter, faster, and with a thicker plume of smoke. The scent hits hard and quick, and it can feel like it “fills” a room all at once. A stick usually burns slower and more evenly, which makes the scent steadier and easier to live with for a longer stretch. One more detail people miss: a lot of stick incense has a bamboo core, and that adds a faint woody smoke note, especially with cheaper sticks. Cones don’t have that core, so the scent can read “cleaner” when the cone is made well.

When I reach for each

If I want to shift the atmosphere fast, I’ll grab a cone. They’re good for a quick cleanse before you light a candle, a short prayer, a fast reset after an argument, or when you’re working in a smaller room and you want the smoke to do its job without waiting around. If I’m settling into an altar session, doing divination, writing petitions, or just trying to keep the room calm for an hour, a stick makes more sense. The burn time gives you a longer runway, and the energy stays consistent instead of coming in like a gust and then dropping off.

Safety and cleanliness matter too. Cones can leave more residue and more smoke in a short time, so use a proper heat-safe burner and crack a window if you need to. Sticks drop a long ash that can break off and fall, so you want a holder that actually catches it, and you don’t want it burning under a shelf or near curtains. Pick the format that matches the length and intensity of what you’re doing, and you’ll get better results than treating it like a purely aesthetic choice.

How to Really Use the Crystal Ball

How to Really Use the Crystal Ball

Posted on by Papa Gee

What the Crystal Ball Is Actually For

We all know what people think a crystal ball is for because we’ve seen the same image a thousand times.

You sit down, you look into the glass, and you expect some perfect little scene to rise up in front of you. A face appears. A spirit speaks. A whole vision opens like a little theater in the sphere. So when that kind of thing doesn’t happen right away, people figure the tool failed them or they assume they lack the ability.

The real issue is that most people were never taught what the crystal ball is actually there to do.

A crystal ball is a focus tool. It gives your eyes a fixed point, and that fixed point helps your mind shift into a more receptive state. That is the heart of the work. You are using the ball to move from ordinary seeing into divinatory seeing. Once you understand that, the whole practice starts making more sense.

Ordinary seeing is quick and practical. It labels things fast. It wants answers immediately. Divinatory seeing is slower. It receives impression before explanation. It lets image, feeling, symbol, and intuition rise up before the mind starts sorting and judging. The crystal ball helps you reach that state because it gives your sight somewhere to rest while your deeper perception starts to open.

That is why people can scry in crystal, water, polished stone, dark mirrors, or even a window at night. The surface gives shape to the work, and your own receptive state carries much of the rest.

Why People Miss the Beginning of a Reading

A lot of people sit down with a crystal ball and expect the session to begin in a big, obvious way. Then they overlook the first real signs because those signs arrive more quietly.

Many readings begin with a shift in the depth of the glass. You may notice a kind of misting, shadowing, brightening, dimming, or movement. Sometimes the ball itself stays fairly simple, but your inner mind starts producing symbols, words, or feelings that land with unusual weight. You may suddenly think of a road, a ring, a bird, a storm, a house, a broken cup, a bridge. You may feel pressure in your chest or a heaviness in your stomach while holding the question in mind. That is already part of the reading.

This matters, because the crystal ball often works by opening the inner senses first. The visual part may come later. Sometimes it stays symbolic the whole way through, and that is still real work. A symbol can carry a clear answer when you learn how it speaks to you.

Setting Up the Ball So the Work Can Happen

You’ll get better results when you create conditions that help your attention settle.

Put the crystal ball on a dark cloth if you can. Black, navy, deep purple, or another dark color works well. The cloth cuts down visual clutter and lets the sphere stand out. That small step helps your eyes relax into the ball more easily.

Use soft lighting. A bright overhead light fills the ball with glare and reflections from the room. A softer lamp across the room or a single candle off to the side usually works better. The goal is depth. You want enough light to see into the glass without turning it into a mirror.

Sit in a chair where your body can stay comfortable for a while. If you are constantly shifting around, your attention keeps getting dragged back to the surface. A settled body helps create a settled mind.

It also helps to prepare the ball before you begin. Wipe away dust and fingerprints. Pass it through incense smoke if that fits your practice. Hold it in your hands for a minute. Say a prayer over it. Speak plainly and dedicate it to clear sight, useful sight, and honest sight. Those small acts bring intention into the session and help mark the ball as a working object instead of household decor.

Give the Session Some Shape

Before you begin gazing, decide what kind of session you are having.

You may want an open session where you simply receive whatever comes forward. You may want a focused session around one clear question. Both approaches can work, but clarity helps. When the mind is trying to cover five different subjects at once, the reading tends to get muddy.

Choose one question for the sitting and ask it plainly.

What am I missing in this situation?

What is developing around this job?

What do I need to understand about this person?

Where is this matter headed over the next few months?

Questions like that give the session shape without squeezing it too tightly. They leave room for symbols and layered answers, but they also keep the reading from drifting in every direction at once.

And ask what you genuinely want to know. A plain question usually opens the door to a plainer answer.

How to Gaze the Right Way

This is the part people learn by doing.

You want a soft, steady gaze. Let your eyes rest into the ball instead of pressing against the surface with hard focus. It helps to think of it as looking slightly through the sphere. Your attention stays present, but the gaze itself becomes relaxed and receptive.

Breathe normally. Let your shoulders drop. Hold the question in mind at the start, then allow it to quiet down so the session has room to unfold. Give yourself time to settle. Ten to twenty minutes is often a good range for a working session. The first few minutes may simply be the mind slowing down enough to become useful.

As impressions begin to rise, stay with them. Let them come in their own order. The whole point is to receive before interpreting. If a bridge appears, stay with the bridge. If a word lands in your mind, stay with the word. If a body feeling enters the work, notice it and let it remain part of the message.

That patient holding is one of the main skills in crystal ball work.

What You May Actually Receive

Different people receive differently, and it helps to know that ahead of time.

Some people are strongly visual. They see shadow, mist, color, flashes, symbols, or brief scenes. Some people are more intuitive. They receive a strong knowing or an immediate sense of the answer. Some are more bodily. A heaviness, lightness, tightening, calm, or unease becomes part of the reading. Some hear words inwardly. Many people receive through a blend of all of these.

Let’s say you are asking about whether someone can be trusted, and during the session you receive the image of a fox, then a forked road, then a sinking feeling in your stomach. That is already a full response taking shape. The fox may point to cunning. The forked road may suggest divided intention or two stories being told at once. The body feeling adds another layer and gives you the emotional truth of the matter.

This is why writing everything down matters so much. A symbol may mean one thing in the moment and prove itself more clearly a week later.

Write It Down Right Away

As soon as the session ends, record what happened.

Write down the images, the words, the feelings, the colors, the sequence, and any small detail that stood out. Sequence matters. A key followed by a locked gate carries a different meaning than a locked gate followed by a key. One may suggest coming access. The other may suggest delay before opening. The order often adds meaning.

Your journal will also teach you your own personal symbol language over time. There are traditional meanings for many symbols, of course, but your own mind and your own spirits may use images in very specific ways. For one person, a dog may mean loyalty. For another, it may mean warning because that image has shown up before every difficult event they’ve had. Practice reveals those patterns.

The journal is where you begin to separate clean impressions from wishful thinking. Genuine impressions tend to arrive with a distinct weight. They may be brief, but they land clearly. Personal projection usually comes with more emotional heat and more mental decorating. The more you journal, the easier that difference becomes to recognize.

How to Get Better at It

You improve at crystal ball work the same way you improve at any divination practice: by building familiarity through regular use.

That does not mean you need marathon sessions. It means steady contact. Work with the ball often enough that your mind begins to recognize the path into that receptive state. Over time, you’ll settle faster. You’ll notice your recurring symbols sooner. You’ll gain a better sense of when a session is truly active.

Treat the ball with care. Keep it clean. Cover it if that feels right in your practice. Store it respectfully. Those habits help build your relationship with the tool and keep your sessions feeling intentional.

And give yourself room to grow into it. Scrying is one of those arts where small, true impressions build the foundation. As that foundation gets stronger, the whole practice gets stronger with it.

What Really Makes the Crystal Ball Work

The crystal ball matters, but the larger part of the work is you.

It is your willingness to become still enough to receive. It is your honesty in recording what came instead of what you hoped would come. It is your patience in letting the process open in its own timing. That is what makes the tool useful.

So if you want to really use the crystal ball, sit down with it like a working diviner.

Prepare the space. Ask one real question. Let your eyes soften. Give the session enough time to deepen. Pay attention to symbol, feeling, color, word, and sequence. Write everything down. Learn your own signs.

That is where the real work lives. And once you understand that, the crystal ball becomes a practical divination tool instead of a piece of imagery from somebody else’s fantasy.

Queen Elizabeth Root - A Magical Profile

Queen Elizabeth Root – A Magical Profile

Posted on by Papa Gee

Magical Properties & Uses

orris rootQueen Elizabeth root is one of those old love-work ingredients that carries both sweetness and command. In hoodoo and related folk magic, it’s used for feminine power, drawing, influence, and love work. It has a long reputation as a woman’s root, especially in matters where attraction and personal authority need to go hand in hand.

What I like about Queen Elizabeth root is that it isn’t just about romance in the soft, dreamy sense. It’s also about presence. It helps a person come across with more charm, more gravity, and more of that feeling that they know who they are. That’s part of why it shows up in work meant to draw attention, keep a lover interested, strengthen a woman’s hold in a relationship, or increase confidence in love matters.

It’s often carried on the body, placed in a mojo bag, used in powders, or worked through oils and baths. That tells you a lot about the nature of the root. This isn’t usually something meant to sit across the room and do all the work by itself. It’s personal. It works close to the body and close to the condition you’re trying to build.

Queen Elizabeth root is especially useful when the goal is not just getting noticed, but being valued. There’s a difference between being chased and being regarded. This root leans more toward being cherished, favored, or treated like you matter. That’s why I’d think of it not only for drawing love, but for strengthening self-worth inside love work. It has a more regal feel than a frantic one.

It also works well when a woman wants to keep her own center. Some ingredients stir passion. Some create sweetness. Some work through domination. Queen Elizabeth root sits in a more balanced place. It can be used to attract, to steady affection, and to support a woman’s sense of command in the relationship without making the work feel harsh.

One of the best things about Queen Elizabeth root is that it gives love work a backbone. It doesn’t feel weak. It doesn’t beg. It draws, steadies, and strengthens. For that reason, it’s a good ingredient when the work needs warmth, but also dignity.

Used In Perfumery

Orris root has a long history in perfumery, and that helps explain why it became tied to attraction, beauty, and personal charm. The root comes from certain kinds of iris, and once it is dried and prepared, it develops the soft, powdery scent people often compare to violets. It has been used in perfume for centuries, going back to the ancient world, and later found its way into face powders, sachets, pomanders, and scented body preparations.

What makes orris especially interesting is that it takes time and patience. The rhizomes are dried and aged for years before they develop the fragrance perfumers want, and from that process comes the costly material known as orris butter. Because of that long preparation and the small yield, orris became one of the more prized perfume ingredients. It has been used not only for its scent, but also in powders, soaps, lotions, and other scented goods.

A Simple Spell

For a simple love-drawing spell, take a small piece of Queen Elizabeth root and hold it in your hands for a moment before you begin. Speak over it plainly and tell it what you want it to do. Ask it to help you draw loving attention, increase your charm, and strengthen your feminine power. Then place it in a small red or pink bag with a pinch of rose petals and a little cinnamon if you like, and keep it near your body or tucked where you keep your personal things.

You can also work with it through oil. Dress a pink candle with a love oil or a condition oil you trust, then place the Queen Elizabeth root beside it while the candle burns. As the flame works, pray that you are seen with warmth, desire, and respect, not just passing interest. Let the root sit close while you speak your petition. When the candle is done, keep the root and carry it as an ongoing charm.

This is a good spell when you want to draw love without losing your footing. It’s useful for dating, for reconciliation work with the right supporting ingredients, or any time you want to feel more confident and magnetized. Keep your words simple. Don’t overtalk it. Tell the root what kind of love, attention, and treatment you mean to draw, and let that be enough.

Spiritual Baths vs. Regular Baths: What Makes Them Different

Spiritual Baths vs. Regular Baths: What Makes Them Different

Posted on by Papa Gee

A lot of people treat a spiritual bath like it’s just a regular bath with some herbs tossed in, and that’s usually why they don’t get much out of it. Water is water, sure, but the purpose changes what the bath is doing. One is hygiene and recovery. The other is a ritual bath meant to shift a condition.

A regular bath is about your body. It cleans you, it loosens tension, it helps you sleep, and it can take the edge off a rough day. Even when you add Epsom salt, nice soap, lavender—whatever—you’re still doing comfort and reset. That’s useful, because getting calm again makes your whole life easier.

But it doesn’t automatically clear what you picked up from people, places, and situations. Calm helps, but that’s not the same thing as taking something off you.

A spiritual bath is a spell you do with water. The goal is simple: remove what you don’t want on you, or draw in what you do want. Cleansing baths are for getting back to baseline when you feel spiritually sticky, heavy, or cluttered. Drawing baths are for bringing in a condition like peace in the home, sweeter communication, confidence, open roads.

This goes better when it stays simple and focused. Pick the job first, then pick a few ingredients that match that job. Hyssop is classic for cleansing. Basil is great for blessing and peace. Rose is solid for love work. You don’t need twelve things competing in the same tub.

And you don’t have to clog up your drain by sprinkling them loose in the water. It’s fine to make a strong tea, strain it, and pour that into the bath. If you’re cleansing, wash downward and move the energy off you. If you’re drawing, wash upward and fix the condition onto you. Say a few plain words while you do it, or pray, or you can get as elaborate as you want—just be clear.

When you’re done, finish it like you mean it’s finished and with the confidence that it did what it was supposed to do. Some people save a cup of the bath water and dispose of it outside with purpose. Others let it drain and rinse the tub right after. If it is for unhexing, throw the bath water to the direction of the sunset (West.) Either way, treat the end like you’re closing the spell in a way that is different from when you normally get out of a relaxing bath. Give it real magical meaning and finality.

Calling on Isis in Modern Spiritual Practice

Calling on Isis in Modern Spiritual Practice

Posted on by Papa Gee

A lot of people come to Isis because they want a goddess who can hold a situation steady. They come when protection has to be more than a comfort thought, when recovery has to be more than a good mood, and when grief has started to change the architecture of a life. Isis has always been approached that way. The myths do not paint her as decorative. They paint her as effective.

The name difference matters mostly because it tells a practitioner which stream they are stepping into. Aset is the older Egyptian form, and Isis is the Greek form that spread through the Mediterranean and took on its own religious life. Both names point to the same center. She is tied to the throne, which is why so much of her spiritual identity circles legitimacy, right order, protection of the vulnerable, and the restoration of what has been damaged.

In story, she is the wife of Osiris and the mother of Horus, but those relationships are not just family drama. They are the map of her functions. She is the one who searches for what has been lost, gathers what has been scattered, restores what can be restored, and then protects what is still growing until it can stand on its own.

That is the pattern people keep calling today.

What people call Isis for

goddess isis paintingIsis gets called for protection that is meant to hold up under pressure. In a modern house that often means protection of children, protection of sleep, protection of boundaries, protection of the home when conflict keeps circling, and protection when a person feels spiritually exposed after being around the wrong people too long. She is not approached like a casual helper spirit in those situations. She is approached like a guardian.

She also gets called for healing, and that includes physical recovery, but it does not stop there. Isis devotion shows up a lot in emotional exhaustion and long stress because her myths are built around rebuilding. People come when the body is tired, the mind is cluttered, and the spirit feels thin. The devotion that forms around her in those seasons is usually simple, but it is steady, and steadiness is what gives it weight.

Grief is another doorway that shows up constantly. Isis is one of the clearest ancient models of mourning that does not collapse into helplessness. She mourns, she searches, she restores, and she carries continuity forward. That is why people call her when grief has started to affect sleep, appetite, motivation, or spiritual stability. Her presence is often sought when the goal is not to erase grief but to survive it without falling apart.

There is also a very specific kind of “authority” devotion people build with her. Because Isis is tied to the throne, she gets called in situations where a person needs to regain their place in their own life. After a breakup where someone got diminished. After a family dynamic where someone got pushed into silence. After a workplace situation where someone lost their footing. Isis is often approached as a force that helps a person return to self-possession and make clean decisions again.

The altar relationship

Isis devotion tends to do best when it has a place to land. Most practitioners who stay with her long-term keep a small altar or shrine space that stays dedicated. It might be a shelf. It might be a table. It might be a corner that is kept clean and treated as hers. The point is not how impressive it looks. The point is that the relationship has a stable location in the home.

Offerings in Isis devotion are usually practical. Fresh water shows up constantly because it is clean, easy to refresh, and it fits the devotional current. Light shows up because candlelight is a simple way to mark attention and presence. Incense shows up because scent marks the space and shifts the atmosphere quickly.

Food offerings happen too, but they tend to follow the same logic as any good offering practice: give what can be kept up with and give what feels like hospitality instead of clutter. Bread, fruit, honey, milk, flowers, beer, wine—those all show up in different homes depending on the practitioner’s lane and what is appropriate for their body and their household.

This is also where Isis practice starts to feel like Isis practice instead of “a candle lit near an image.” The altar gets tended. The water gets refreshed. The candle gets lit on a regular schedule. A short prayer gets spoken. Over time the space develops presence because it is being fed consistently.

A lot of people associate Isis with ritual objects like the sistrum and the situla. The sistrum is a rattle used in temple settings, and it connects to the idea of awakening sacred space and stirring presence through sound. The situla is a vessel tied to libation and purification. In modern practice, that translates into simple mechanics: some practitioners use a bell or rattle to mark the beginning of prayer time, and they treat water and libation as central offerings rather than afterthoughts.

When that pattern stays consistent, it builds something a practitioner can actually return to. It becomes an anchor, not a one-off.

Names, speech, and the Isis style of magic

Isis is not only approached as a mother and protector. She is also approached as a goddess of speech and names. That is why so many Isis prayers rely on titles. Titles are not fluff. Titles sharpen the aim.

“Lady of the Throne” speaks to order, legitimacy, and rightful place.
“Great of Magic” speaks to effective spiritual technique.
“Mother of Horus” speaks to protection of what is still growing.
“Mistress of a Thousand Names” speaks to her wide reach in the later devotional world.

Isis also has one of the clearest myths in Egyptian tradition about the power of names: the story where she obtains the secret name of Ra. The story is not used by modern practitioners because it is cute mythology. It gets used because it teaches method. It shows Isis as patient, strategic, and exact. She does not beg for power. She obtains access, and she uses access to change what can be changed.

That myth shapes modern Isis devotion in a few practical ways.

It makes people careful with their words. Promises get treated like promises.
It pushes petitions toward clarity, because a muddled request produces a muddled result.
It makes the relationship feel oath-shaped, meaning people do best when they keep what they said they would keep.

This is also where older Isis devotional texts become useful. There are inscriptions and hymns from the Greco-Roman world where Isis speaks in first person and lists what she rules, what she protects, and what she establishes. They read like authority statements. In modern practice, those texts often become prayer frameworks. They are used to establish presence and to set the petition inside a known domain.

The best way to describe it plainly is this: Isis devotion often strengthens when the prayer is built like a legal statement instead of an emotional ramble. Titles establish who is being addressed. The request is stated plainly. The exchange is stated plainly when an exchange is being made. The prayer closes cleanly.

That kind of speech matches the Isis current, because it treats language as an instrument instead of a mood.

Protection, grief, and passage

If Isis is going to be understood in a way that stays useful to practitioners, then her funerary authority has to be named. Isis was approached as a protector of the dead, and that is one reason her symbols carry weight.

The tyet, often called the knot of Isis, is one of the clearest examples. In funerary material it is treated as a protective amulet, traditionally made in red stone and placed at the throat so her protection is fixed onto the dead. That is why modern practitioners still use it as protection jewelry, as a shrine emblem, and as a funerary marker in ancestor devotion. The point is not fashion. The point is a protective seal tied to Isis.

Isis also stands inside ritual mourning tradition. The Lamentations of Isis and Nephthys are built as liturgy, and liturgy is not “poetry time.” It is ritual speech meant to move a condition. In the Osiris rites, lamentation is part of what calls, revives, and restores continuity.

Modern practitioners who bring Isis into grief work tend to follow that same idea. The grief is not treated as a mood to decorate. It is treated as a condition that needs structure. A candle lit on a set schedule. Water kept fresh. Prayers spoken that hold the dead in protection and keep the living from sliding into stagnation. Isis shows up well there because her myths never present mourning as passive. Mourning is part of the mechanism of restoration.

The later Isis current also carries “passage” power in a different direction. The Mediterranean cult of Isis linked her to safe travel and sea protection, and that is where the Navigium Isidis comes in. March 5 was kept as her festival opening the sailing season, and it involved a ship carried in procession as the public symbol of safe passage and favorable movement.

That travel protection lane still shows up in modern practice. Isis gets called before long travel, before risky travel, and before trips that feel spiritually exposed. She also gets called at life thresholds that feel like travel even when the body stays home: relocation, divorce, recovery from illness, leaving a job, stepping into a new identity. The logic is consistent. Isis is approached as a protector during crossings.

There is also an initiatory lane people pull from, mostly from the Greco-Roman world, where Isis is approached as a goddess who changes a person through devotion, purification, and commitment. That lane shows up when a practitioner is looking for more than favors. They are looking for spiritual reshaping. It tends to bring stricter discipline, stronger vow-keeping, and a more formal relationship to prayer and offering.

Isis devotion stays strong because it has a clear footprint: altar practice, offerings, speech, symbols, grief authority, and passage rites. A practitioner does not have to use every lane at once. In fact, most people do better when they pick one lane and build it until it has meaning to them.

Tobacco - A Magical Profile

Tobacco – A Magical Profile

Posted on by Papa Gee

Magical Properties & Uses

tobacco magical profiledTobacco is used in folk magic, hoodoo, and spirit work mainly as an offering, a prayer herb, and a protective ingredient. It is commonly given to ancestors, the dead, or helping spirits when respect, payment, or attention is needed. A pinch of tobacco may be left at a grave, set out on an altar, or offered at a crossroads before asking for help. In that kind of work, tobacco is part of exchange. You give first, then you speak.

It is also used in prayer because smoke has often been understood as a way of carrying words outward. For that reason, tobacco is tied to direct petitioning. It is used when someone wants to speak clearly, back up a request, or approach spirit work in a serious way. In some traditions it is burned, in others it is left loose, and in others it is carried or laid down in a particular place. The form matters less than the intention and the respect behind it.

Tobacco is also worked for protection and boundary-setting. It may be sprinkled near an entrance, placed at the edge of a property, or added in small amounts to protective blends when the work needs more force behind it. This is not usually the herb you reach for when you want softness, sweetness, or comfort. It is better suited to work that needs firmness, authority, and a clear spiritual line.

Because of that, tobacco can also be useful in commanding and compelling work, depending on the tradition and the rest of the ingredients involved. It adds backbone. It helps a working feel more deliberate and more grounded in action. That does not mean every use of tobacco is harsh, but it does mean the ingredient carries more authority than many gentler herbs.

One reason tobacco has stayed so important is that it serves more than one purpose without becoming vague. It can be given as payment, used to strengthen a prayer, placed for protection, or added to work that needs steadiness and force. That range makes it practical. In real folk magic, ingredients that can do more than one job and do it well tend to stay in use for a long time.

Smoke Offerings

In many traditions, tobacco is offered through smoke. A person lights the tobacco, takes the smoke into the mouth, and blows it outward as an offering to spirits, ancestors, the dead, or helping powers. The smoke itself is the gift and the carrier. It is a way of feeding, honoring, and addressing the unseen at the same time. That practice shows up in different forms across a lot of spiritual traditions, and it helps explain why tobacco is so often tied to prayer, respect, and spirit contact. If someone works that way, they do not have to inhale the smoke. It can simply be drawn lightly into the mouth and blown out as the offering.

The point is not smoking for pleasure or taking it into the lungs. The point is making the offering and sending the prayer. That matters, especially for readers who may not want to inhale smoke or who are working with tobacco in a strictly ritual way. A pinch of tobacco may also be left at a grave, placed at a crossroads, or set on an altar before asking for help.

In that kind of work, tobacco is part of exchange. You give first, then you speak. That old pattern of offering before petition is one of the main reasons tobacco holds such a strong place in folk practice.

A Simple Spell

For a simple tobacco offering spell, place a small pinch of loose tobacco in a heatproof dish, at the foot of an ancestor altar, or in another respectful place where you make offerings. Speak plainly over it and say who it is for. Ask that your words be heard, your offering be accepted, and your prayer be carried with respect. If you choose to offer it through smoke, you can draw the smoke lightly into the mouth and blow it outward without inhaling.

You can also use tobacco in a protective way around the home. Place a small pinch near the front step or in a protected outdoor spot by the entrance while praying that all harmful, sour, or meddling influence be turned away. Keep your words direct and mean what you say. Tobacco is best used with respect, a clear purpose, and a steady hand.

How to Dedicate a Tool for Magical Practice

How to Dedicate a Tool for Magical Practice

Posted on by Papa Gee

A lot of people buy a new tool—knife, scissors, candle holder, mortar and pestle, whatever—and they start using it right away like it’s just another object in the house. And you can do that, but dedication is what turns it from “a thing you own” into “a thing you use on purpose.”

Dedication is basically two parts: you get it physically ready, and then you tell it what its job is.

Start with the physical side. Wash it or wipe it down in whatever way makes sense for the material. Soap and water is fine for most things, but don’t ruin a wooden handle or something that shouldn’t be soaked. The point is simple: get rid of factory dust, shipping funk, fingerprints, and all that “store energy.” Dry it completely.

Now you set the purpose. Pick one sentence that says what this tool is for. Keep it plain. “This knife is for protection work.” “These scissors are for cutting ties.” “This bowl is for blessing and peace.” If you don’t know the purpose yet, don’t dedicate it yet. Wait until you do.

Then do a quick dedication ritual. It can be as simple as this:

  • Hold the tool in both hands for a minute.
  • Take a breath and settle down.
  • Pass it through incense smoke or sprinkle it with a little salt water or dab it with a tiny bit of oil—whatever fits your practice and what the object can handle.
  • Say your purpose sentence out loud three times, like you mean it.

That’s it. No theatrics needed. The power here is clarity and repetition.

After that, treat it like it has a job. Don’t use it for random household stuff. Don’t lend it out. Keep it stored in a place that makes sense—wrapped in cloth, in a box, in a drawer that’s for spiritual supplies. And if you use it for something heavy, just repeat the dedication again afterward. You don’t have to reinvent the whole process. You’re just reminding it what it’s for.

A dedicated tool is basically a boundary in physical form. That’s why it works.

Tourmaline - A Magical Profile

Tourmaline – A Magical Profile

Posted on by Papa Gee

tourmalineTourmaline is best known in modern magical practice as a stone of protection, grounding, and spiritual boundary. When most people use it that way, they usually mean black tourmaline. That form of the stone has a steady, heavy feel to it, and that matches the way people work with it. It’s often kept near the front door, carried in a pocket, set on an altar, or placed in a room that feels tense, crowded, or spiritually off.

What makes tourmaline useful is that it fits the kind of work where you want less interference. It’s a good stone for drawing a line, settling a room, and helping a person feel less scattered. I wouldn’t think of it as sweet or drawing in the way rose quartz or a love root might be. Its strength is in helping hold the boundary. It’s the kind of stone people reach for when they want to feel more solid, less porous, and less affected by whatever is moving around them.

Tourmaline is also a practical stone because it comes in many forms. The black stone is the one most often used for protection and grounding, but tourmaline as a mineral group appears in many colors because of its complex chemistry. Gem and mineral sources note that there are more than forty recognized tourmaline mineral species, and the group is known for wide color variation and frequent color zoning. That variety is part of why it has stayed popular both as a mineral specimen and as a magical stone. People can work with the darker forms for protection and the brighter forms for beauty, confidence, or personal symbolism.

In practical use, tourmaline is a good choice when the goal is not drama but steadiness. It can be set in a workspace, kept near the bed, placed at an entrance, or carried during times when a person feels overstimulated or worn down. It supports the kind of magic that says not everything gets access to me, not everything comes into this house, and not everything gets to stay. That makes it especially useful for simple protection work and for maintaining the feel of a room over time.

One reason tourmaline keeps showing up in both collections and magical practice is that it is common enough to be usable, but striking enough to feel special. It is found in pegmatites and certain metamorphic settings, and gem-quality material comes from places including Brazil, Madagascar, southern California, and Maine. In plain terms, it’s a real working stone. It doesn’t need much dressing up. It just needs to be placed with purpose.

Mineral Background
Tourmaline is not one single stone but a large mineral group. Geology and gemology sources describe it as a boron silicate mineral group with a wide range of chemical compositions, and that is why tourmaline appears in so many different colors. It commonly forms long prismatic crystals, often with strong vertical striations and a triangular shape in cross-section.

Black tourmaline, also called schorl, is one of the most common forms. Other tourmalines can be pink, green, blue, multicolored, or strongly zoned from one color into another. That range helped make tourmaline important both to collectors and to jewelry use. It is one of the most colorful mineral groups in the gem world, and that visual variety is part of its appeal.

A Simple Spell
For a simple protection spell, place a piece of black tourmaline by your front door, on a windowsill, or anywhere you feel people’s energy tends to collect. Light a small white candle beside it and let it burn for a little while as you pray that anything harmful, draining, or sour be stopped at the threshold and not allowed to settle in your space. When the candle is done, leave the stone where it is as an ongoing guard.

You can also place four small pieces of black tourmaline in the four corners of a room if the space feels tense, heavy, or unsettled. As you set each one down, tell it to help hold the room steady and keep out what doesn’t belong there. This is a good spell after arguments, stressful visits, or any time a room feels off and you want it brought back into order.

Familiars and Totem Animals in Witchcraft

Familiars and Totem Animals in Witchcraft

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In witchcraft, animals are believed to represent specific traits and powers. Many people know about a witch’s familiar, often portrayed as a black cat in movies, but totems are less frequently discussed. Historically, familiar spirits, also known as “familiars,” were thought to be shape-shifting creatures, either divine or demonic, that helped witches in their magical practices. These spirits were often linked to specific animals, such as cats, owls, and toads, each possessing unique meanings and qualities.

Familiar Spirits: Guardians and Guides

Cats, especially black ones, are known for their mystery, independence, and intuition. In various cultures, black cats were believed to have magical powers, serving as protectors for witches. With their keen night vision and cautious nature, they are seen as ideal companions for magical tasks. For instance, our black cat, Phoebe, takes her role seriously by guarding the candles we light for our clients in the chapel. She sits vigilantly, and on days when the candles are not lit, you can tell she’s waiting for the magic to begin.

Owls represent wisdom and the ability to uncover hidden truths. Their skillful, silent flight makes them essential allies for witches who want to explore the unknown. Toads symbolize transformation and adaptability, often connected to the cycles of life and death. This makes them powerful familiars in rituals focused on change and rebirth.

Totem Animals: Personal and Cultural Emblems

Totem animals, often referred to as Spirit Animals, symbolize a person’s traits and strengths and their connection to nature. Unlike familiar spirits, which are seen as outside help, totem animals are intrinsic to an individual’s identity. Choosing a totem animal can happen through meditation, dreams, or guidance from spiritual mentors. This process is very personal and usually reflects a strong bond with the specific animal, often recognized through repeated encounters.

For example, wolves are powerful totem animals that embody loyalty, intuition, and the balance between independence and community. They teach the value of trust and strong social ties. Bears represent strength and courage, encouraging self-reflection and resilience against life’s challenges. Eagles symbolize vision and freedom, inspiring individuals to rise above difficulties and gain a clearer sense of their life’s path.

Comparing Familiar Spirits and Totem Animals

In witchcraft, familiar spirits and totem animals each serve important but different roles. Familiar spirits act as external guides or protectors, aiding witches in their magical work based on their unique traits. In contrast, totem animals are more personal, signifying essential aspects of a person’s character. They provide introspection and insight from within, grounded in one’s spiritual identity.

Despite their differences, familiar spirits and totem animals help connect practitioners to the natural and spiritual realms. They remind witches that all life is interconnected and underline the significance of understanding and embracing the symbolic meanings within the animal kingdom. Ceremonies celebrating these animals often involve rituals that honor their contributions and reinforce the bond between witches and the beings of the natural world. These ceremonies may include offerings, prayers, and meditations to deepen the connection between witches and their animal allies.

Familiar spirits and totem animals are just two examples of how they are integrated into magical practices. They represent different aspects of the natural world and human traits. By understanding their symbolism and incorporating them into rituals, witches can deepen their connection to nature, enhance their magical work, and honor the interconnectedness of all beings. So next time you see a black cat or hear an owl’s hoot at night, remember that these creatures hold powerful symbolic meanings in witchcraft.

Is White Sage Itself a Closed Practice or Influencer Outrage?

Is White Sage Itself a Closed Practice or Influencer Outrage?

Posted on by Papa Gee

The debate around white sage—whether it is a “closed practice” and who has the right to use it—has flared into a cultural bonfire in recent years. At the heart of this argument lies a complex mix of historical truth, cultural memory, spiritual tradition, modern spiritual marketing, and, frankly, a whole lot of misunderstanding and social posturing. Like many spiritual tools adopted into mainstream practice, white sage has become both revered and reviled, depending on who you ask.

Let’s be clear: the sacred deserves respect. But let’s also not confuse reverence with restriction. Much of the current firestorm about white sage being a “closed practice” stems less from grounded cultural research and more from viral outrage and borrowed indignation. And, as often happens in the digital age, repetition creates mythology.

The Roots: What Is “Closed Practice” Anyway?

A closed practice, in spiritual terms, refers to a cultural or religious tradition that restricts the sharing of its rituals, tools, or teachings to initiates—those who are born into, trained within, or formally welcomed by the tradition. Some Indigenous ceremonies are indeed closed, protected by elders and tribal law. But the casual act of burning dried plant matter for spiritual cleansing? That practice—smoke cleansing—is global.

People across time and continents have used smoke as a spiritual purifier. Scots sain with juniper or rosemary. Eastern Orthodox priests swing censers of frankincense. Hoodoo workers use sulfur, pine, or camphor. Appalachian grannies burned newspaper or pine needles to “clear the house.” The idea that sacred smoke belongs to only one group is not supported by history.

The Plant in Question: White Sage

White sage (Salvia apiana) is native to the southwestern United States and northwestern Mexico, where it grows wild in dry, rocky soil. Some Indigenous nations of the Southwest do consider white sage sacred and have specific ceremonial uses for it. That is not in dispute. What’s been blurred is the leap from “this is sacred to me” to “no one else can use this plant without stealing from me.”

It’s a leap built on a misunderstanding of how spiritual practices and natural resources function. A plant, by nature, is not a belief system. It is not “copyrighted,” spiritually speaking. And it certainly wasn’t placed on this earth by the Creator to be used by only one ethnic group. To believe so would suggest a kind of spiritual nationalism that collapses under its own contradiction.

So, are non-Indigenous people “appropriating” when they use white sage? Not necessarily. The problem comes not from the use of the plant, but from caricatured performances of Indigenous culture—dressing in headdresses, chanting made-up words, mimicking sacred rites without context or consent. That’s not using a plant. That’s mockery. And it should be called out.

Manufactured Outrage and the Social Media Spell

Let’s talk plainly. The loudest voices declaring white sage to be a closed practice are often not Indigenous at all. They’re frequently white spiritual influencers or self-appointed gatekeepers looking for a cause. Social media is a spell all its own—it casts confusion, conjures conflict, and rewards the loudest, not the wisest.

It’s entirely possible for someone to hold a sincere desire to respect Indigenous people while also being misled by shallow online content. Many of the “white sage is closed” claims begin not from tribal declarations, but from viral posts with no citations. We must be careful not to mistake repeated misinformation for truth.

If someone began saying lavender is a closed practice of the French and English, and kept repeating it long enough, we’d have a trending TikTok hashtag by next year. The real danger lies in mistaking trendy guilt for informed respect.

So… Can You Use White Sage?

Yes—if you are doing so with sincerity, spiritual focus, and an informed heart. Light a bundle, wave the smoke, say a prayer. That is your right as a spiritual being. What matters is how you use it—not whether you bought it from Whole Foods or wild-harvested it yourself.

But here’s the rub: if you’re working with sacred herbs, know their story. Know where they come from. Know their traditional uses and honor them accordingly. Don’t wear feathers and call it a ceremony unless you’ve been taught by the people whose ceremony it is.

Using white sage in your own private spiritual work—without pretending to be Native, or selling it as a shamanic service—is not theft. It’s reverent practice. And that’s what spiritual life should be—lived, not performed.

What we practice in our own homes, our own altars, and our own hearts is nobody’s business—unless we turn it into a costume or a cash grab.

That Native response is a medicine story all its own—and it deserves to be heard, shared, and deeply respected.

What that person is saying cuts right through the noise and lands squarely in the heart of true spiritual responsibility. There’s power in that voice because it’s not posturing—it’s rooted in wisdom, generosity, and lived experience.

Let’s unpack a few lines from it, because every sentence carries a lesson:

“So Creator gave us dominion over a plant? That doesn’t sound right.”

No, it doesn’t. That idea—that a plant can be owned spiritually—goes against the very core of most Indigenous teachings, as well as the teachings of many earth-based paths. In many traditions, plants are our relatives, not our property. They’re gifts, not trophies. They speak, if we listen, and they help, if we ask with respect. The moment we claim ownership over the sacred, we’ve already stepped away from the sacred.

“This is gatekeeping and it’s not the right way in any culture.”

Truth. Gatekeeping is rooted in fear and trauma—and often in ego. But real medicine isn’t afraid to be shared. What’s sacred should be protected, yes, but protection doesn’t always mean prohibition. Sometimes, protection means education, conversation, and community. Gatekeeping is not the same thing as boundary-setting, and confusing the two leads to more harm than healing.

“Smudging is balancing energy… and if any people needed balance it’s our Settler cousins (no offense).”

Now that’s compassion. That’s grace. That’s a call to accountability without shame. And frankly, it echoes the words of elders in many Native and African diaspora traditions: “If you know how to help, you help.” You don’t check skin tone before extending a healing hand. Not if your spirit’s in the right place.

“What they do with it we don’t have any control over… It doesn’t make it less powerful for us.”

Power that is real can’t be stolen. That’s the deep magic. Yes, cultural commodification is a problem—especially when people sell sage bundles on Etsy for $35 and call themselves “shamans.” But the sacred isn’t diluted by imitation. It’s strengthened by those who keep working with it in truth and humility.

“That logic doesn’t have any medicine in it.”

That line right there? That’s the bottom line.

If your logic, your activism, your spirituality, your TikTok take—if it doesn’t hold any medicine in it… then what are you offering?

Medicine is about healing. About connection. About doing what you can with what you have, and leaving things better than you found them. It is never about withholding help or turning tradition into a weapon to shame others.

In the spirit of right relationship, this is what can be honored:

  • Respecting sacred ceremonies and not mimicking or filming them.
  • Acknowledging the real history of exploitation and colonization.
  • Learning from those who still carry traditional knowledge, when it is offered.
  • Understanding that sharing medicine doesn’t weaken it—it fulfills its purpose.

So yes—let’s keep the sacred sacred. But let’s not confuse protecting culture with withholding compassion. That Native speaker reminded us that true medicine is always meant to be shared. And when done with love and reverence, passing on the flame does not dim your own—it spreads the light.

So, burn rosemary, burn pine, burn white sage if it calls to you. Just don’t burn down the bridge between cultures with ignorance or ego. Respect is not restriction. It is relationship. And that’s where all true magic begins.

Royalty and the Occult

Royalty and the Occult

Posted on by Papa Gee

Throughout history, many royal figures have shown a fascination with the occult, which includes mysterious practices and beliefs. This interest often reflected the ideas and traditions of their times. One of the most famous examples is Catherine de’ Medici, the Queen of France. She deeply believed in astrology, which is the study of how the positions of stars and planets can influence human affairs. Catherine surrounded herself with talented astrologers and alchemists, seeking their advice on important matters, including her son Henry III’s rule. She even organized elaborate ceremonies to try and gain the support of celestial forces. However, these practices stirred up superstitions at the royal court and led to struggles between groups fighting for power. This highlights the influence of the occult on royal politics and culture, often shaping beliefs and practices that continue to intrigue and fascinate us today.

Another noteworthy royal is Queen Elizabeth I of England. She had a close relationship with John Dee, a well-known mathematician and astrologer. Dee was knowledgeable in astrology and engaged in scrying—looking into crystal balls to predict the future—and communicating with spirits. Elizabeth relied on Dee’s insights, which showed how closely linked political power and magical beliefs were during a time of significant religious change in England.

Empress Catherine the Great was also interested in mystical traditions during her reign in Russia. She welcomed thinkers and mystics to her gatherings, creating an environment where discussions about the unknown flourished. This interest was part of a larger trend among European royals who sought to blend logical thinking with a fascination for the mysterious.

The Mysterious World of Occult Science

The occult is a broad term used to describe various esoteric practices such as astrology, alchemy, divination, and mediumship. These disciplines are rooted in ancient beliefs that seek to understand the unknown forces shaping our world. Often dismissed as mere superstitions by modern science, they still captivate many due to their enigmatic nature. Over the centuries, the pursuit of these mysteries has been intertwined with aristocratic life, where individuals hungry for knowledge sought out secret societies and esoteric teachings.

While some may view the occult as a mere curiosity or an alternative source of knowledge, others truly believe in its power to shape their destinies. This conviction often led royals to seek out practitioners and engage in rituals that promised protection, guidance, and control over their fates.

The Golden Age of Enlightenment

The 18th century saw an explosion of ideas and scientific advancements that challenged traditional beliefs about religion, politics, and society. At this time, many European monarchs embraced a more rational approach to governance while simultaneously preserving ancient traditions rooted in the occult. For example, King Frederick II of Prussia was deeply interested in alchemy and astrology but also promoted modern thinking by creating schools for arts and sciences, encouraging

The Occult’s Role in Royal Traditions

Monarchs often incorporate rich symbols from the occult in their ceremonies and rituals. For example, items like crowns, sceptres, and orbs represent deep-rooted beliefs about divine authority and protection. The Crown Jewels of England serve not only as symbols of power but are also believed to have special qualities that protect and validate the monarch’s rule. The coronation ritual, where a new king or queen is crowned, is filled with ancient symbolism and conveys ideas of a sacred role and divine choice, tying back to the mystical beliefs of earlier times.

Beyond these tangible objects and rituals, many royals have claimed to possess special powers or connections to the occult. Some even believed that they were descendants of gods or mythical beings, reinforcing their divine right to rule. Such beliefs serve to elevate royal power and connect it to a higher authority, legitimizing their reign in the eyes of their subjects.

The Occult’s Continued Influence

The fascination with the occult among royals has not waned over time; if anything, it has evolved and adapted to modern times. In recent years, there have been reports of members of the British royal family seeking guidance from psychics and engaging in healing practices like Reiki. The use of tarot cards and astrology for insight and guidance has also gained popularity among some royals, showcasing the enduring appeal of the occult in their lives.

Secret societies, particularly the Freemasons, have played a significant role in linking royalty to the occult. Over the years, many royals have been associated with this organization, which values symbolism and ritual. The Freemasons share stories related to ancient mysteries and truth-seeking, uniting prominent figures from different royal families in their shared interest in hidden knowledge.

Modern Connections

Today, people still talk about the links between royalty and the occult. The British royal family, seen as modern figures, are sometimes associated with ancient rituals and more mystical beliefs. Many people are curious about their possible connections to secret groups or hidden traditions, and this speculation continues to capture the public imagination. The “mystical royal” idea remains popular in stories and media.

Films, books, and television explore these themes, telling captivating stories about royals who struggle with the burdens of ancient traditions. Documentaries and literature also delve into these connections, showing how historical curiosity shapes our modern views and suggesting that ties to the occult may influence how power operates today.

Some ancient rituals and ceremonies of royal families still include elements of the occult, prompting further questions about how much of today’s royal traditions are based on older, mysterious practices. The relationship between royals and the occult is like a colorful tapestry filled with centuries of mystery, power struggles, and cultural shifts and magic. This complex connection encourages us to think more deeply about governing under the weight of history and mysticism.

The Historical Role of Witches as Healers

The Historical Role of Witches as Healers

Posted on by Papa Gee

The Witch Was a Healer First

Before people feared the witch, they needed her.

Long before she was blamed for bad weather or punished for knowing too much, the witch was someone people trusted. She knew how to stop a fever, ease a birth, mend a broken leg, or break a hex. She was the one people turned to when no one else could help. And most of the time, she could.

She was called by different names in different places. In ancient Egypt, she was a priestess and a healer. In Greece, she was a midwife or an herbalist. In West Africa, she worked with roots and spirits. In early Europe, she was the wise woman who lived just outside the village, a little closer to the woods and a little further from the church. But no matter where she lived or what name she went by, people came to her for healing. And she delivered.

Healing was never just about the body. It still isn’t. The best healers know that physical pain and emotional pain go hand in hand. What hurts the heart shows up in the body. What poisons the spirit makes the skin break out or the stomach twist in knots. The witch knew this without needing a degree or a white coat. She had the wisdom of the earth, the wisdom of the ancestors, and the wisdom of experience.

She knew how to listen.

And she knew what to do next.

In ancient times, the healer wasn’t separate from the sacred. Medicine and magic were the same thing. Egyptian priests treated illness through rituals. Greek temples for the god Asclepius were places people went to sleep and dream their healing. In many cultures, the healer was also a spiritual guide—someone who understood that disease didn’t just come from germs. It came from grief, betrayal, guilt, shame, fear, rage. It came from being cut off from what made life meaningful.

And so healing wasn’t always gentle.

Sometimes it meant vomiting something out.

Sometimes it meant crying until the poison left your body.

Sometimes it meant setting fire to something that no longer served you.

Sometimes it meant letting go of someone you weren’t ready to release.

The witch knew how to help people do that. And that made her powerful.

Too powerful, according to some.

When empires rose and churches tightened their grip, people like her became a threat. The same hands that once anointed a baby or laid rosemary on a coffin were now seen as dangerous. The healer became the heretic. The helper became the accused. And the word “witch” stopped meaning “wise woman” and started meaning “enemy.”

What followed was centuries of fear, violence, and silence. But even then, the healing didn’t stop.

It just went underground.

Herbs were passed down in secret. Spells were written into prayers. Midwives kept practicing. Conjure doctors kept working. And people still came to them—quietly, at night, when the pain got too bad to ignore. Because even when people feared the witch, they still needed the healer.

They always will.

Even now, with all the technology and modern medicine in the world, people are still looking for something deeper. They want to feel whole again. They want someone to see them—not just their symptoms, but their story. They want healing that reaches the root.

That’s where the old ways come in.

That’s where the witch returns—not as a villain, but as a guide.

Today, we see her standing in both worlds. She might work with herbs or reiki or prayer. She might light candles, mix oils, or whisper Psalms over someone’s name paper. She might carry a stethoscope in her bag or a deck of cards. She knows that healing isn’t one-size-fits-all. It’s not a straight line. It’s personal. It’s spiritual. And it takes time.

You don’t have to call yourself a witch to understand this. You just have to listen to the body. You have to pay attention to what hurts. You have to remember that healing isn’t always about feeling better right away. Sometimes it’s about facing what needs to be released.

And that takes courage.

The same kind of courage that got the old healers through the fires, the lies, the trials, and the tombs. They didn’t just pass down recipes or remedies. They passed down resilience. And we’re still carrying that today.

So don’t let anyone rewrite the story.

The witch was a healer first.

And she still is.

Breaking the Pagan Poverty Mentality

Breaking the Pagan Poverty Mentality

Posted on by Papa Gee

Why Magical Folks Must Rethink Their Relationship With Wealth

There’s a subtle but deep-rooted belief threading its way through many corners of the pagan, witchcraft, and metaphysical communities—a belief that being spiritual means being broke. That to want money is somehow impure. That charging for magical services, classes, or handmade goods is unethical or greedy.

This is what many call the pagan poverty mentality, and it’s high time we burned it at the crossroads.

pagan poverty mentalityPoverty Is Not a Virtue

There is nothing inherently spiritual about being broke. There is nothing noble in struggling to make rent while offering free services to those who would otherwise pay a therapist, a doctor, or a reader triple your rate. Spirit does not require your suffering.

What poverty does is keep your magic small. It drains your energy, makes you more reactive than proactive, and causes resentment to bubble up under the surface. But please be aware that we’re not talking about placing blame on the poor – we’re talking about willful poverty – subconsciously creating lack out of a sense of virtue.

Living Well Is a Form of Resistance

For many magical practitioners—especially women, queer folks, and people of color—choosing to thrive is a radical act. It’s a rejection of a world that says we are not meant to succeed. It’s an affirmation that our work has value. That we have value.

When you price your spell bottles or tarot readings at a rate that reflects your time, skill, and effort, you’re not just setting a price. You’re casting a boundary. You’re saying, “I am not invisible. I am not disposable. My craft is worthy of respect.”

Why Is This So Prevalent in Pagan Spaces?

Because so many of us come from lack.

Paganism attracts the seekers, the misfits, and the folks who didn’t feel at home in traditional religion or rigid structures. Many of us were outsiders—emotionally, socially, or economically. The witch’s path offered freedom, belonging, and a sense of personal power. But if you were already struggling to get by, the idea that “money isn’t spiritual” just added another layer of guilt to something you already couldn’t seem to grasp.

And so the cycle begins:

  • You want to take that herbalism course, but you “can’t afford it.”

  • You need new supplies for your apothecary, but you feel guilty spending $30 at the occult shop.

  • You underprice your readings or handmade goods, hoping to seem “accessible,” but it leaves you broke.

  • You want to go on that spiritual retreat, but you’ll “just wait until next year,” again and again.

  • You make just enough to get by, with nothing left to feed yourself—let alone your magic.

This is how the poverty spell binds us: not with shackles, but with constant, low-grade denial of your own worth.

A Community That Can’t Afford Itself

There’s an unspoken rule in many pagan circles:
Don’t charge too much. Don’t make your practice a business. Don’t ask people to pay for spiritual things.

But here’s the irony: the very people who say this also can’t afford to support others, either. Everyone is struggling, and no one is allowed to thrive.

So we end up with circles of brilliant witches, rootworkers, seers, and healers who can barely pay their rent—let alone fund their growth. We exchange everything, burn out, and live half-lives under the illusion of “authenticity.”

But genuine authenticity doesn’t mean suffering. It means aligning with your power. And that includes your power to receive.

The Energy of Money Is Not Evil

Money is not inherently evil, oppressive, or unspiritual. It’s a tool—a modern symbol of exchange and intention. And like any tool, it becomes what you make of it.

If you think of money as dirty, corrupt, or beneath you, you create resistance to it. That resistance shows up in how you price your offerings, receive gifts, and treat yourself when abundance does show up.

If you believe that money and magic can’t coexist, your spiritual path will always feel like it’s being dragged through mud—beautiful, but exhausting. But when you embrace money as another form of energy, you gain the ability to sustain your path, nourish your craft, and give from a place of fullness instead of martyrdom.

Money Is Energy, Too

If you believe in energy exchange, then you must accept that money is one of the clearest forms of that exchange in our current world.

You give value, you receive value. You help someone shift their life with your magic or your craft, and they show gratitude through the currency that keeps your lights on.

Money doesn’t corrupt. Greed does. And the two are not the same.

When you deny yourself the right to thrive, when you reject payment, or feel guilty for wanting more—you’re not being humble. You’re reinforcing a spell of limitation.

The Cost of Staying Small

Living in magical poverty costs you more than money. It costs you:

  • Opportunities

  • Wellness

  • Confidence

It makes your world smaller.

That online class that could deepen your path? Skipped.
That gathering where you could network with other witches? Out of reach.
That monthly fee for a website that could take your tarot practice to the next level? Put off until things “get better,” again.

When you’re always scrambling, your magic becomes a reaction instead of a ritual. You lose the ability to plan, to plant, to stretch. You end up in survival mode—something your ancestors fought hard to rise above.

And here’s the kicker: you can’t serve the world from survival mode. You can’t channel clear messages, hold space for others, or perform effective magic when you’re constantly worried about how you’re going to buy groceries or fix your car.

Prosperity Is a Spell Worth Casting

If you believe in your power to draw love, healing, and protection—why not believe in your power to draw money?

Money is not the enemy. The enemy is the story that says you’re not allowed to want it.

You are allowed to want a home that feels safe.
You are allowed to want shelves full of herbs and tools.
You are allowed to want to earn a good living with your gifts.
You are allowed to want comfort, ease, and joy.

Wanting those things doesn’t make you less spiritual—it makes you sovereign.

What Can You Do?

  • Confront your beliefs.
    Journal about where your discomfort with money comes from. Who taught you that spirituality and prosperity were enemies?

  • Practice receiving.
    When someone pays you, gives you something, or compliments your work—accept it fully. Don’t diminish or deflect.

  • Price with integrity.
    Your work has value. Charge what it’s worth, not what you think others will tolerate.

  • Invest in your growth.
    Choose one thing to say yes to this month—a course, a book, a tool. Stop waiting for “someday.”

  • Bless your money.
    Anoint your wallet. Keep coins on your altar. Say thank you every time money comes to you—even if it’s just a quarter on the sidewalk.

But What About Community?

Helping others and lifting the collective is still possible. You can offer sliding scales, donate a portion of your earnings, volunteer your gifts for community work.

But those should be choices, not expectations.
And they should come from overflow, not depletion. You can’t pour from an empty cauldron.

Magic is about empowerment. It’s about change, transformation, and reclaiming your birthright. Burn the old spell. Write a new one—one where your magic, your time, your creativity, and your livelihood are all honored.

Because you weren’t born to suffer.
Poverty is not a virtue.
Suffering does not make you more magical.
And refusing money doesn’t make you more spiritual.

You weren’t put on this earth to barely get by. You were put here to create, to guide, to weave, to heal—
and to thrive while doing it.

The Stubborn Ex and Why Reconciliation Isn't Happening

The Stubborn Ex and Why Reconciliation Isn’t Happening

Posted on by Papa Gee

“They’re Just Being Stubborn” – Or Are They?

After nearly 30 years of doing this work—readings, candle spells, relationship consultations—I’ve noticed a phrase that pops up more often than it should:
“They’re just being stubborn.”

It usually shows up when someone is trying to win a lover back, or when they’re waiting for someone who’s pulled away, hoping that if they just push a little harder, do the right spell, or say the right words, the person will finally give in and come back around.

But here’s the hard truth:
Nine times out of ten, when someone says “they’re being stubborn,” what’s really going on is you are the one being stubborn. You don’t want to accept that the other person may not want to be with you. It’s not a matter of pride or punishment or a power struggle—it’s just… no.

I’ve heard it for years, and I get why it happens. The heart wants what it wants. It’s easier to believe they’re just being difficult than to face the finality of a closed door. But when you say they’re being stubborn, what you’re often doing is holding space for a fantasy—one where they’re secretly still invested, still emotionally tangled, still halfway yours. That belief gives you permission to keep holding on.

But here’s what holding on really does: it binds you.
It ties your energy to someone who’s already walked away. It keeps you rooted in limbo, circling the same questions, delaying your healing and blocking new blessings from entering.

And I’m not saying that reconciliation is never possible. Sometimes it is. Sometimes people do come back. But not because you dug your heels in harder than they did. Not because you refused to take no for an answer.
Real magic works with truth, not denial.

So if you find yourself repeating that old line—“they’re just being stubborn”—pause for a moment. Ask yourself:
Is that really what’s happening?
Or am I the one refusing to move forward?

Stubbornness, when misplaced, can become a cage. If that phrase is coming up, it might be worth sitting with that truth for a minute. Not as judgment—just as honesty. Because magic works best when it’s rooted in what is, not what we wish it was.

Sometimes letting go is the most powerful spell you can do. And in that open space, love that actually wants you back can finally find its way through.

The Occult World of The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina: Power, Ritual, and the War Between Worlds

The Occult World of The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina: Power, Ritual, and the War Between Worlds

Posted on by Papa Gee

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina presents itself like a piece of pop horror, but under the surface, it’s soaked in occult philosophy, magical symbolism, and esoteric commentary. It plays with real ideas—some drawn from ceremonial magic, some from folk practice, and some warped through a Satanic inversion of Christian mythos. What’s remarkable is how seriously the show commits to its world. It isn’t coy about ritual. It isn’t shy about blood, sacrifice, or the consequences of power. And for all its drama, it asks the same question again and again: What is freedom, and what are you willing to give up to have it?

A Netflix Series That Embraced Satanic Imagery Without Apology

When Netflix launched Chilling Adventures, it made a clear statement: this wasn’t Sabrina the Teenage Witch with a darker wardrobe. This was a show rooted in ceremonial Satanism, black mass iconography, and the clash between mortal freedom and magical servitude. The Church of Night is a full-blown religious order built around Lucifer himself. Witches greet each other with “Praise Satan.” The high priest wears robes, carries a staff, and delivers doctrine straight from the Book of the Beast. There’s no subtlety here. The series doesn’t flirt with Satanic symbolism—it dives in headfirst.

But the Satanism in Sabrina isn’t just for show. It’s a backdrop for serious moral tension. The Dark Lord isn’t evil in the comic-book sense. He’s powerful. He offers knowledge, protection, even immortality—if you’re willing to sign. It’s an offer Sabrina refuses, and that refusal becomes the center of everything. Her struggle becomes not about good vs. evil, but about consent, freedom, and the right to shape her own destiny. Of course, making the witches Satanic made lots of real witches in the real world lose their minds over a stereotype they’d better fighting forever. Others enjoyed it for what it was – entertainment.

Sabrina Spellman: The Witch Who Refuses the Chain

sabrina spellmanFrom the start, Sabrina Spellman exists in two worlds. One foot in the mortal realm. One foot in the witching world. But she belongs to neither. That liminality becomes her spiritual burden. She is expected to sign her name into the Book of the Beast, essentially pledging her soul to the Dark Lord in exchange for power. That’s not metaphor. It’s blood oath magic. A contract. One that echoes real pacts in ceremonial and infernal magic.

Sabrina’s refusal to sign is her first act of magical rebellion. She doesn’t just reject Satan—she rejects the system of control that makes obedience a condition for spiritual power. That decision isn’t taken lightly. It comes with consequence, isolation, and backlash. But it also sets the tone: Sabrina’s path is not about submission. It’s about claiming her own authority, and eventually redefining what it means to be a witch.

This is one of the core spiritual tensions in the series. Not good vs. evil, but obedience vs. autonomy. Sabrina is constantly pulled between collective loyalty and personal truth. And every time she chooses her own path, she steps further into the role of a revolutionary, not just a spellcaster.

The Church of Night: Doctrine Dressed as Devotion

The Church of Night operates like a dark mirror of the Catholic Church. Hierarchical. Ritualistic. Patriarchal. It’s structured around absolute loyalty to Lucifer, and its ceremonies—baptisms, blessings, sacraments—are all inverted versions of Christian rites. The Dark Baptism, for example, is a black sacrament that ties the witch’s soul to the Devil in exchange for power and longevity.

Father Blackwood, as the high priest, is less a spiritual guide than a tyrant. He embodies the authoritarian shadow of occult orders—the gatekeeper who weaponizes tradition to control others. Under his leadership, the Church of Night isn’t a sanctuary. It’s a cage. Its rules exist to maintain power, especially over women.

Sabrina’s resistance to Blackwood isn’t just personal. It’s spiritual. She challenges the idea that tradition is sacred just because it’s old. That’s a powerful message for modern practitioners too: not all old ways are wise, and not all rituals deserve to be repeated. Some have to be burned down to make room for something better.

The Academy of Unseen Arts: Indoctrination Disguised as Instruction

The Academy trains young witches and warlocks in necromancy, alchemy, demonology, and spellcraft—but beneath the surface, it functions like a boarding school for obedience. The students are told what to believe, how to act, and what to worship. Questioning the curriculum is dangerous. Dissent is punished.

Sabrina’s presence destabilizes the Academy. She brings in mortal thinking. She asks too many questions. And most dangerously, she seeks knowledge that’s not sanctioned. That tension mirrors a real-world truth in magical paths: sometimes the greatest enemy to truth is tradition.

There are real parallels here to ceremonial magical orders that demand secrecy and submission, and to religious communities that confuse control with sanctity. Sabrina’s path through the Academy is a lesson in critical thinking as a magical tool. She doesn’t just learn spells—she learns which teachers to ignore.

Lilith: The First Witch and the Lie of Redemption

Lilith—masquerading as Ms. Wardwell, then fully revealed—is not just a manipulator or antagonist. She’s one of the oldest names in esoteric lore. The first wife of Adam, cast out for refusing to submit. In Chilling Adventures, she becomes the mother of witches, the Queen of Hell, and Sabrina’s greatest threat—and eventually, her reluctant ally.

Lilith is power without apology. She knows what it means to be cast out. She knows how to play the long game. Her mentorship of Sabrina is layered—at times nurturing, at times controlling. That ambiguity is intentional. Lilith represents the part of feminine power that patriarchal structures fear the most: the one who remembers what was stolen.

What makes Lilith dangerous is not her darkness—it’s her clarity. She knows how the system works. She helped build it. And now she wants to reshape it. But even she gets trapped by her own ambition, by the craving for recognition from the very forces that rejected her. That’s the caution in her arc: revolution can still rot if it’s rooted in bitterness.

The Weird Sisters: Survival as Sorcery

the weird sisters from chilling adventures of sabrinaPrudence, Agatha, and Dorcas are more than backup dancers in Sabrina’s story. They’re survivors of systemic abuse, orphaned, and molded by a cult that used their gifts for its own ends. Their bond is forged through pain and power. At first, they’re antagonists. Later, they become allies—not because of some cheesy friendship arc, but because shared trauma creates alliance.

Prudence, especially, carries the most transformation. She moves from bitter enforcer to principled leader. Her disillusionment with Father Blackwood, her own father, becomes the engine for her spiritual awakening. She stops parroting doctrine and starts crafting her own morality. That’s a core magical truth: power is nothing without discernment.

Familiars and Spirit Contracts

Familiars in the show aren’t just pets—they’re spiritual entities bound to protect and guide. Salem, Sabrina’s familiar, is a goblin in animal form. This reflects older European witch lore, where familiars were not symbolic—they were spirits with personality and purpose. They served witches through binding agreements, often sealed with offerings or blood.

In the show, familiars are a way to talk about pacts. Every witch makes a deal. Every familiar has terms. And those relationships reflect the give-and-take of real spiritual alliances. Power has a cost. Loyalty has rules. And breaking a pact brings consequence.

Rituals, Sigils, and Spellwork: More Than Set Dressing

One of the more respectful elements of Chilling Adventures is how seriously it treats ritual. Circles are cast. Names are spoken. Sigils are drawn with intention. Offerings are made. Whether it’s summoning demons or binding spells, the show grounds its magic in structure. This isn’t wand-waving fluff. It’s ceremonial work with roots.

Yes, it’s dramatized. But the bones are there. The idea that intention must be backed by action. That spellwork isn’t random—it’s constructed. That names hold power. That timing matters. And that ritual is not a performance—it’s a transaction.

Duality, Rebellion, and the Divine Feminine

sabrina sword of fireThroughout the series, themes of duality are always present, but never clean. Light doesn’t always mean good. Darkness doesn’t always mean evil. The mortals make monstrous choices. The witches commit acts of grace. And Satan, for all his domination, still offers freedom—if you’re willing to pay his price. What the show makes clear is this: power is never simple, and neither is virtue.

Sabrina’s journey is not about choosing one side over the other. It’s about holding both. She doesn’t reject magic. She rejects the conditions attached to it. She doesn’t throw away her lineage—she challenges it, reclaims it, and reshapes it on her terms. That’s not rebellion for its own sake. That’s reformation. Her throne in Hell isn’t about ruling others. It’s about creating a new covenant—one where autonomy, consent, and balance are sacred.

In doing so, she becomes a vessel of the divine feminine—but not the passive archetype. Not the maiden, not the martyr. She is the challenger. The questioner. The embodiment of a power that doesn’t ask permission. She calls forth a version of the sacred that refuses to be sanctified by male authority. One that draws on instinct, ancestry, and moral clarity.

And that’s the real punch of the series. It doesn’t preach. It doesn’t convert. It reflects. It takes the symbols we’ve been taught to fear—witches, blood, darkness, demons—and holds them up to the light. It asks us not to accept them blindly, but to examine what they really mean. Who declared them unholy? Who benefits from that story?

In the end, The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina isn’t a cautionary tale about magic gone wrong. It’s a myth about power reclaimed. About the cost of sovereignty. About the sacred, the profane, and the line that runs between them—a line that, more often than not, is drawn by someone else’s hand.

And Sabrina Spellman, with all her flaws and fury, steps across that line and dares to redraw it.

Occult Symbolism in Penny Dreadful: Magic, Monsters, and the War for the Soul

Occult Symbolism in Penny Dreadful: Magic, Monsters, and the War for the Soul

Posted on by Papa Gee

Penny Dreadful doesn’t just borrow from gothic horror. It goes deeper, reaching into the marrow of Western esoteric thought. The show is a layered meditation on spiritual warfare, ancestral trauma, forbidden knowledge, and the consequences of power misused. What it offers isn’t just fiction—it’s myth dressed in Victorian clothing. Every symbol, every story, every curse is carrying something older than the script.

This is a series where God and the Devil aren’t metaphors. They’re players. And the people caught between them—the witches, the monsters, the prophets, and the damned—are all telling the same story in different tongues: What does it cost to be free?

Vanessa Ives: The Body Battleground

Vanessa Ives Penny DreadfulAt the center of it all is Vanessa Ives. Not just a psychic. Not just a medium. She is the spiritual battleground itself—an unwilling vessel caught in a tug-of-war between demonic forces and divine grace. She doesn’t dabble in the occult. She bleeds for it. The things that haunt her aren’t passing shadows. They inhabit her. And that makes her the perfect vehicle for everything the series wants to say about identity, submission, and spiritual power.

When Vanessa is possessed by Amunet—or when Lucifer himself tries to seduce her—it’s not spectacle. It’s initiation. The show makes it clear that possession, in this world, is not about head-spinning theatrics. It’s about consent. Will you bend your will to darkness? Or will you endure, and become something else? For Vanessa, that question is never theoretical. It’s in her flesh. It’s in her mind. And it’s always on the edge of tipping.

Joan Clayton: Witch as Midwife

joan clayton penny dreadfulJoan Clayton, the Cut-Wife of Ballentree Moor, is one of the most honest portrayals of a folk witch in modern television. She lives alone, outside the boundaries of respectability. She knows the power of herbs, blood, bones, and will. She doesn’t teach Vanessa spells—she teaches her discipline. And when Vanessa fails her first test, Joan doesn’t comfort her. She gives her truth.

Joan understands that witchcraft isn’t empowerment in the modern sense. It’s responsibility. It’s pain. It’s knowing that no one is coming to save you. That you either learn to work with the dead, or you join them.

Her murder at the hands of the townsfolk is a reenactment of what real witches—healers, midwives, women with knowledge—have faced for centuries. And her death is not just martyrdom. It’s a passing of lineage. When Vanessa buries her and takes up the mantle, she is no longer running. She is claiming power.

The Verbis Diablo and the Language of Binding

The “Verbis Diablo,” the devil’s tongue, is a fictional language in the show—but the principle behind it is very real. Words, especially sacred ones, have power. In many magical traditions, names are more than identifiers. They are keys. To speak the true name of a spirit is to command it. To speak a forbidden word is to summon what shouldn’t be spoken.

When Vanessa speaks the Verbis Diablo during her trances, the language doesn’t just affect the room. It alters the temperature of the narrative. What she speaks brings entities closer. What she says is ancient and inherited. It’s the idea that language itself can open doors—and once opened, they don’t always close.

The writers knew what they were doing. The series treats language as a magical act. That’s what spellwork is, after all. The word becomes action. The name becomes the thing. And those who speak without understanding pay dearly.

Victor Frankenstein: Playing God in Pieces

Victor Frankenstein is not a villain in Penny Dreadful. He’s worse—he’s a visionary without ethics. His quest isn’t evil in the traditional sense. He wants to conquer death. But what makes his story important is what he ignores: the soul. He creates life without concern for spirit. And that mistake, more than anything, is what destroys him.

The Creature, later called John Clare, is a theological problem. He has a body, a mind, and a hunger for meaning—but no place in God’s order. He reads poetry. He longs for love. And yet he’s treated as an abomination. His tragedy isn’t just that he was abandoned. It’s that he was never asked if he wanted to be born.

Then comes Lily. Victor resurrects her too, thinking he can control her. But she awakens not as a blank slate—but as a revolutionary. She remembers her trauma. She remembers her death. And she comes back not to thank Victor, but to burn his entire worldview to the ground. She’s a lesson in magical consequences: If you bring something back, you better be ready for what it becomes.

Dorian Gray: Hedonism Without Consequence

Dorian Gray is a cipher. He doesn’t suffer. He doesn’t age. His portrait carries the weight of his sins. And that makes him empty. He’s not the devil, but he’s something worse in the context of this story—a man without accountability. He is the embodiment of unchecked desire.

His immortality rots his soul. And when he meets Lily, he finally finds someone who mirrors him. But where Dorian runs from meaning, Lily demands it. Their eventual falling-out isn’t over morality. It’s over purpose. Dorian wants to feel nothing. Lily wants the world to feel everything she suffered. That’s where the occult symbolism hits: Dorian is stasis. Lily is revolution. And both are monsters made by men who thought they knew what power was.

Vampires and the Shadow of the Divine Feminine

penny dreadful vampiresThe vampires in Penny Dreadful are not romantic. They are ancient, demonic, and intimately tied to Egyptian myth. The show blends Christian and Egyptian lore to craft something unique. Dracula isn’t just a monster. He is a dark god. And he wants Vanessa not just as a bride—but as a vessel for the divine feminine turned inward.

The show suggests that the root of evil here isn’t lust or hunger—it’s spiritual possession of the sacred feminine. The Nightcomers, too, are witches who have surrendered to a malevolent force. They are what Vanessa could become if she consents to the darkness. And she’s tempted, deeply, because power always offers safety first.

The show doesn’t treat evil as cartoonish. It presents it as seductive. And that’s accurate to real magical tradition: the idea that power offered freely is often the one with the deepest hook.

Ethan Chandler and the Divine Beast: The Werewolf as Sacred Protector

The werewolf myth, embodied in Ethan Chandler, isn’t just about shapeshifting—it’s about surrendering to the beast within. Unlike the elegant decay of Dracula or the stitched-together philosophy of Frankenstein, Ethan’s curse is raw and primal. His transformation isn’t controlled or ritualized. It’s violent, involuntary, and soaked in blood. But what Penny Dreadful does differently is root that transformation in divine prophecy. Ethan isn’t just a wolf—he’s the Lupus Dei, the Wolf of God. That flips the whole trope on its head. His curse becomes a calling. The monster isn’t here to destroy the sacred. He’s here to protect it. And that makes Ethan’s arc not just tragic, but holy. In a world full of predators wearing the faces of men, he’s the one beast you want on your side.

Tarot, Divination, and Destiny

Vanessa often turns to tarot, not just as a plot device, but as a compass. The cards don’t predict. They reflect. Every time she lays a spread, we get a mirror—not of the future, but of what she’s refusing to see. The Hanged Man. Death. The Lovers. Each card lands with weight, because it’s not about superstition. It’s about choosing to look deeper.

In folk magic, tarot is used less to tell the future and more to show you what’s in play right now. Penny Dreadful gets that right. Every draw is a spiritual checkpoint. Every spread is a test.

Names, Identity, and Magical Power

One of the most consistent themes in Penny Dreadful is naming. The Creature names himself John Clare, borrowing from a forgotten poet. Vanessa is renamed by demons. Joan is called Cut-Wife by those who fear her. Names here aren’t just titles—they’re roles. They’re bindings.

In magical practice, your name is your tether to identity and destiny. That’s why people use magical names, why spirits have true names, why saints have feast days and secret titles. The show honors this. It shows us how names shape action. How reclaiming or rejecting a name becomes a rite in itself.

This Isn’t Just Storytelling

Penny Dreadful doesn’t treat magic as aesthetics. It treats it as a moral problem. It asks hard questions: What are you willing to give up for power? What parts of yourself are worth protecting? And once you’ve crossed a line, can you ever truly come back?

For anyone who walks a magical path, this show isn’t just entertainment. It’s instruction. Not in ritual, but in consequence. It understands that real power isn’t in casting a spell. It’s in choosing not to. It’s in standing in your truth even when the world—or a god—demands your surrender.

And that’s what makes Penny Dreadful a masterwork of occult storytelling. It remembers that the greatest monsters are the ones who forgot their souls. And the greatest heroes are the ones who remembered theirs just in time.

Cleansing vs. Unhexing vs. Banishing: What’s the Difference and Why It Matters

Cleansing vs. Unhexing vs. Banishing: What’s the Difference and Why It Matters

Posted on by Papa Gee

A lot of people lump cleansing, unhexing, and banishing into one big magical soup and stir it with whatever stick they’ve got on hand. That’s fine if you’re doing this as a hobby. But if you’re doing real work, it’s a problem. You don’t use a broom to dig out a root. You don’t use bleach to break a curse. Tools matter. So do words. Getting these three confused means you’re either wasting your energy or inviting a bigger mess. Sometimes both.

Let’s break this down the way it should be: straight, clear, and honest. No shortcuts. No aesthetic fog. If you want to handle spiritual mess the right way, you’ve got to know what you’re looking at and what tool to reach for.

Cleansing Isn’t Always Enough

Cleansing is what you do to keep things moving. It’s basic maintenance. Like sweeping the floor before it gets sticky. You’re not fixing a haunting. You’re not breaking a curse. You’re clearing out the emotional and spiritual trash that piles up just from living in the world.

You cleanse after someone with bad energy visits your house. You cleanse yourself after a draining argument. You cleanse your tools before spellwork to make sure nothing old is clinging to them. This is spiritual hygiene, not emergency surgery. And just like hygiene, if you skip it too long, buildup happens. That buildup is where things start to go wrong.

Cleansing can feel like things get lighter, clearer, or quieter. That’s because energy that was clogging up your field gets brushed out. But here’s the mistake people make—they assume that if they feel better, the problem is gone. Not always. Sometimes you’re just clearing the smoke, but the fire’s still burning in the other room. That’s where unhexing and banishing come in. Cleansing doesn’t pull out poison. It doesn’t shut doors. It just scrubs the surface.

Unhexing Is Not the Same as Cleansing

Unhexing, or uncrossing, is what you do when someone has done something to you. Maybe it was on purpose—a curse, a jinx, a spiritual attack. Maybe it was unintentional, like a buildup of jealousy, gossip, or malice that stuck to you over time. Either way, it’s not just “bad vibes.” It’s directed energy. And it requires something stronger than a sage stick and a salt bath.

The key difference here is intent. Curses have direction. They’re aimed. Cleansing is general, but unhexing is targeted. It’s about removing a specific pattern, condition, or influence. You’re not just clearing your space—you’re breaking a tie. You’re removing something that has a grip on you.

Unhexing can be physical—you take spiritual baths, use reversal oils, burn uncrossing candles. But it’s also mental and emotional. You’ve got to pull your own energy out of the grip, too. That means calling your power back. That means facing whatever fear or weakness made the curse stick in the first place. Otherwise, you’re just patching a hole in the roof without checking if the structure underneath is rotten.

And just for the record, unhexing won’t work if the curse is still being fed. You need to cut off the source, protect yourself, and sometimes hit back. That’s where people get it wrong—they think cleansing will clear the curse, but it just clears the surface symptoms. The poison’s still in the system.

Banishing Isn’t Just for Ghosts

ghost on staircaseNow we get to banishing. This one’s often misused, especially by beginners who throw the word around like it just means “get away from me.” But banishing is serious. It’s spiritual eviction. You are removing something—not just from your space, but from your life. And you are doing it with authority.

You don’t banish energy. You banish presence. That could mean a spirit that doesn’t belong, a toxic person who keeps circling your life, or a pattern of obsessive thinking that’s taking over your mind. Banishing is what you use when something is clinging. It’s not just negative—it’s invasive.

Banishing says: You have no place here. Leave, and don’t come back.

That’s why it can be dangerous to banish without understanding what you’re dealing with. If you try to banish something that actually needs healing, you can cause a backlash. If you try to banish a spirit that isn’t hostile but is confused, you could stir up more trouble than you had to start with. You don’t yell “get out” before figuring out who walked in the room.

Banishing is best used when the line has been crossed—when you’ve tried cleansing, tried setting boundaries, and something is still violating the space. That’s when you get firm. That’s when you light the black candles, draw the line, and mean it. You don’t banish lightly. But when it’s time, you don’t hesitate either.

Why the Difference Matters

If you use the wrong method, the work doesn’t just fail. It muddies the waters. Let’s say you’re dealing with a curse, but you only cleanse. You might feel better for a few days, but that curse will reassert itself. Worse, it might come back stronger because you stirred the pot without removing the root.

Or maybe someone’s spiritually attacking you, and you think it’s just bad energy from work stress. So you keep cleansing, but you never unhex. Meanwhile, the attacker keeps feeding the work, and you wonder why your luck stays rotten and your health goes sideways.

Then there’s the reverse—someone lights a banishing candle because their house feels heavy, and suddenly a grieving spirit gets kicked out before they could pass on. Now you’ve got angry ancestors in the hallway and no idea why the dog won’t stop barking at the corner of the room.

Mislabeling the work means misapplying the solution. And that’s where a lot of newer practitioners go wrong. They treat these words as interchangeable. They’re not. They are specific tools for specific problems.

Cleansing is for static. Unhexing is for curses. Banishing is for removal. Know what you’re dealing with before you swing a hammer.

Do the Work, Not the Trend

It’s easy to think everything can be fixed with a smoke bundle and a feel-good affirmation. That’s not how this path works. Magic isn’t a mood booster. It’s a system. And if you’re working with spirits, ancestors, or forces beyond yourself, you owe it to them to know what you’re doing.

Cleansing, unhexing, and banishing each have their place, their timing, and their weight. Don’t rush to do the heaviest work first. And don’t expect light work to fix a heavy problem. Take time to divine, to assess, to ask. This work is part skill and part humility. You don’t need to know everything. You just need to know enough to ask the right question before you light the match.

hoodoo and witchcraft spells

banishing candle spell service

Banishing & Uncrossing Candle Altar Service

$19.00

Surrounded by drama queens? Use Banish Negativity to keep these people at arm’s length. Banish Negativity is meant to help dampen the effects of negative people around you and to discourage them from wanting to be around you, your workplace or your home. For crossed or hexed conditions, it focuses on uncrossing and unhexing in order to cleanse negativity and ill will from you, the petitioner. A Banishing & Uncrossing Candle Altar Service is a spiritual practice used to dispel negative energy, break curses or hexes, and create a shield of protection.

HOW IT WORKS:

I prepare candle vigils in your name and leave them continuously burning on our altars. These glass encased vigil candles burn between 5 and 7 days.

Making Out Your Request – Your Petition

How to make out your petition: There is a section below asking you to fill out your petition or prayer. If you need to send me photos, you can always Email Me. Your petition describes your situation and what you would like to happen. Including birthdate information for all those involved is helpful but not necessary.

PLEASE NOTE — NO WRITTEN CANDLE REPORT

This candle service no longer includes a written candle report or personal interpretation of the finished candle. HOWEVER, you will find this as an add-on option if you wish by choosing below “add Divination report…..”

After your candle has completed, you will be emailed a photo of the finished candle along with a link to my candle-reading guide so you can look at the traditional signs in the glass yourself.

Please allow at least 10 business days after the candle finishes burning for your completion email and photo to be sent.

The price of this service reflects this new format. The focus of the service is the spiritual candle work itself: your candle is blessed, dressed, prepared with your petition, prayed over, and burned on the altar in your name.

SETTING LIGHTS IN RUNS

DOUBLE STRENGTH

If you would like additional strength put behind the same petition, you can choose the Double Strength option.

With Double Strength, I prepare two candles for the same petition instead of one. Both candles are blessed, dressed, prayed over, and burned in your name, adding another light to the altar work being done for your petition.

Double Strength replaces the old candle-run system. Instead of ordering two or three candles that are burned one after another, you are simply adding a second candle to strengthen the same work.

DO NOT CHANGE THE QUANTITY IN THE SHOPPING CART. I will only burn runs of 1 or 2 for you. ONLY select the CHECKBOXES to change the quantity you want. For example, if you want 2 DIFFERENT runs of 2 for a Love candle, you need to finish this transaction then return to the Love Candle page and start all over. I repeat, DO NOT change the quantity in the add to cart box. Thank you.

Add Divination REPORT on your candle service
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Description

Banishing & Uncrossing Candle Altar Service

THE CANDLE WORK COMES FIRST

Candle divination can offer interesting insight into how a candle burned, but the signs left in the glass are not the most important part of this service.

The heart of the work is what has already been done for you: your candle has been blessed, dressed, prepared with your petition, prayed over, and burned on the altar in your name. That is where the spiritual work takes place.

The soot, wax, residue, and other signs left behind may be interpreted afterward, but those signs are not what gives the candle its power. They also do not determine whether the work was worthwhile or whether your petition was heard.

Think of candle divination as a way of looking back at how the candle burned—not as the source of the spiritual work itself.

WHEN YOUR CANDLE IS FINISHED

There is no written candle report or personal candle interpretation included with this service.

After your candle has finished burning, please allow at least 10 business days for your completion email to be sent.

Your completion email will include:

  • A photo of your finished candle
  • A link to my candle-reading guide, explaining traditional signs that may appear in the glass of a finished vigil candle

If you selected Double Strength, you will receive photos of both completed candles.

You can use the candle-reading guide to look at the finished glass yourself and explore any signs that may have appeared during the burn.

Please remember that candles are placed on the altar in the order they’re received. Depending on how many candle services are already burning, it may take a few days before your candle reaches the altar.

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Candle Signs in Spell Work - What the Flame, Wax, and Smoke Tell You

Candle Signs in Spell Work – What the Flame, Wax, and Smoke Tell You

Posted on by Papa Gee

When people light a candle for spell work, they often treat it like a vending machine—insert prayer, walk away, wait for results. That’s not how real work functions. A candle is not just a delivery method. It’s a mouthpiece. It tells you if your spell is moving, stalling, being blocked, or flat-out refused. Most people miss that part because they’re too focused on the end result and not paying attention to what’s happening while the candle is doing its job.

Reading candle signs isn’t optional. It’s part of the work. That flame is the heartbeat of your spell. The wax is your spiritual trail. The smoke is your spirit line. If you’re not listening to all three, you’re working in the dark—and you’re more likely to waste your time, your energy, and your materials.

What the Flame Tells You

When you first light the candle, the flame gives you your first message. A strong, tall, steady flame is what we want to see. That tells me the spell took. It means your intention was clear, the spiritual road is open, and your work is reaching the place it’s supposed to go.

But if that flame is weak or flickering, you’ve got a problem. Either your focus is scattered, the work is being resisted, or something about the situation is off. Could be spiritual interference. Could be emotional chaos in your own head. Could be bad timing. I always tell people—don’t just assume it’s the spirit world throwing a fit. Sometimes the blockage is you.

If your flame is jumping, dancing, or crackling, pay attention. That’s spiritual activity. Somebody or something is in the room with you. Now whether that’s helpful or harmful depends on the work. If you’re doing baneful magic, that flame might be showing the fight. If it’s love work and the flame is popping like bacon grease, that could mean conflict between you and the person you’re drawing in. Watch it. Stay grounded. Don’t just light and walk away.

Now if the flame goes out completely—and there’s no draft, no poor wick, no outside reason for it—stop. That’s a full stop. The spell’s been blocked or rejected. Don’t relight right away. You need to cleanse, divine, and figure out why. Lighting it again out of ego or desperation just pushes against the wall harder. You’re not fixing anything that way. You’re just lighting a dead fuse.

What the Wax Is Saying

Wax tells you what happened during the burn. It’s like reading footprints in the dirt after something’s passed through.

If your candle burns all the way down clean with no leftover wax, that’s a good sign. That means the spell was delivered, received, and nothing interfered. If the wax pools unevenly, tunnels, or leaves behind big chunks, that’s spiritual turbulence. It means part of the work didn’t land. Could be resistance. Could be divided intention. Could be that you were sending two mixed messages and spirit didn’t know which one to take seriously.

Sometimes wax forms shapes. Don’t overthink it. Don’t go Googling “what does wax in the shape of a dog mean.” That’s not how spirit talks. It talks through your gut. If it looks like a noose to you, and you feel dread, then that’s your message. If it looks like a heart and you get a warm flush in your chest, then take it as a good sign. Trust your body’s first reaction. It’s faster than your head.

Now let’s talk about soot. If you’re using a glass-encased candle and you get black soot up the side, you’ve got resistance. That’s energy fighting the work. If it clears toward the top of the glass, the resistance broke. If the soot stays heavy all the way through, the resistance won. Do not ignore that. Clean that candle holder, cleanse yourself, and reassess your approach.

If the glass cracks or explodes, that’s spiritual warfare. Something hit back. Stop the work. Don’t press forward. Cleanse and protect before going near that situation again. The candle broke for a reason. Don’t treat it like a cheap mishap.

What the Smoke Is Showing You

The smoke is the least understood and most ignored part of candle signs, and that’s a shame because it often tells you more than the flame.

White smoke is usually a good sign. It means the energy is rising, the spirits are listening, and the message is being delivered without trouble. That’s what you want to see—especially early in the burn.

Black smoke, though? That’s not good. That’s resistance, negativity, or even active cursing if you’re in that kind of work. If you see thick black smoke pouring off your candle, don’t panic—but don’t ignore it either. That’s energy burning off. If it clears up halfway through, that means your spell broke through. If it keeps smoking black from start to finish, the situation is still toxic, and you’ve got more work to do.

Watch the direction of the smoke. If it moves toward you, that usually means the spirit is addressing you directly. The energy is working on your side of the situation. If it moves away from you, that means the spell is moving outward, hitting the target. If the smoke spirals or dances oddly, stop and tune in. Spirit is speaking. That’s your cue to quiet your mind and listen.

When a Candle Burns Too Fast

People ask if fast-burning candles are good or bad. That depends. A candle that burns quickly and cleanly might mean the energy was sharp, focused, and went straight to the target. But if it burns fast and messy, especially with a lot of popping or residue, that could mean rushed energy. It might even mean your spirit team tried to hurry it out of the way—like ripping off a bandage—because the longer it burned, the worse the outcome would’ve been.

If you’re doing a breakup spell and the candle rips through in a few hours with wax all over the place and the glass smoking black, don’t assume success. That could mean the energy pushed fast because it was volatile—not because it was perfect. That’s a sign to check for fallout. Fast burn doesn’t mean clean result. Always follow up with divination if you’re unsure.

What Silence Means in Candle Work

Not every candle gives you fireworks. Some burn quietly. The flame’s steady. The wax is ordinary. The smoke is minimal. That’s not a bad thing. That’s a stable spell. That means the work didn’t hit snags. Don’t go chasing drama in the burn just because you think it should look wild to be working.

But if your candle gives you nothing—no movement, no shape, no feeling—that’s when you need to worry. That means the work didn’t connect. Something didn’t land. Could be the timing. Could be the spirit said no. Could be you came into the work too tired, too numb, too disconnected. Go back and trace your steps. Don’t assume silence is success unless you feel peace behind it.

This Isn’t Fortune Telling. It’s Feedback.

Candle signs aren’t about predicting the future. They’re about reading the present. They tell you what’s happening as the energy moves. That gives you a chance to respond, adjust, or stop if needed.

If you’re not reading your candle, you’re spellcasting blind. You’re working without feedback. And that’s not power. That’s guesswork.

Learn to watch your flame. Read your wax. Follow the smoke. And most of all—learn to tell the difference between your hope and what the candle is actually telling you. If you want real results, get honest with the signs. That’s how you grow.

Catherine de’ Medici - The Serpent Queen's Magic Mirror

Catherine de’ Medici – The Serpent Queen’s Magic Mirror

Posted on by Papa Gee

Catherine de’ Medici didn’t earn the nickname “The Serpent Queen” because she smiled too sweetly. She earned it because she survived a court of men who would’ve gladly cut her throat if it meant moving up the food chain. And she did it by playing a longer game—one that pulled from politics, religion, and, yes, the occult.

This isn’t some romantic story about a queen with a spooky mirror. It’s about power, perception, and the calculated use of fear. Catherine understood something every good magician learns early: if people think you can curse them, that’s almost as good as the curse itself.

The Mirror That Sees Too Much

Let’s start with the mirror. Catherine owned a black scrying mirror—likely made of obsidian or polished glass—used for what’s called “catoptromancy,” or divination through reflection. She would sit and stare into that dark surface, looking for visions, messages, or signs about the future of her court and country. This wasn’t fortune cookie magic. It was methodical. It was strategic.

Historical accounts vary, but we know she used the mirror often during the Wars of Religion. She was trying to hold the kingdom together while Catholics and Protestants tore it apart from both ends. When politics failed her, she turned to her mirror. Not for show. For survival.

In today’s world, we’d call that intuitive leadership. In hers, it got her labeled a witch.

Court of the Unseen

Catherine’s spiritual circle wasn’t made up of casual hobbyists. These were heavy-hitters in the occult world. One of her most trusted advisors was Cosimo Ruggeri, an astrologer and alchemist known for his skill in both prediction and poison. He was accused of everything from necromancy to plotting royal deaths—and somehow always escaped the noose. That should tell you how much protection Catherine gave him.

Then there was Nostradamus. Yes, that Nostradamus. She invited him to court after reading his prophecies and had him cast horoscopes for her children. She wanted to know which ones would live long enough to rule—and which ones wouldn’t. That’s not a mother being sentimental. That’s a queen managing succession planning.

People like to paint her as obsessed. The truth is simpler: she was informed.

The Serpent Queen: How She Used Fear as a Tool

The Starz series The Serpent Queen doesn’t get everything right, but it gets the tone. Catherine wasn’t passive. She knew how to take up space in a room full of men who thought she didn’t belong there. And if that meant using a mirror, a spell, or the threat of spiritual retaliation? So be it.

The series shows her young, underestimated, and learning to fight dirty when necessary. It also shows how women in power were often called witches, not because they were witches, but because it was the fastest way to strip them of legitimacy. Catherine leaned into it. She didn’t just accept the label—she weaponized it.

You think the mirror scared people? It did. But not because they thought she saw demons. It was because they were afraid she saw them—their lies, their betrayals, their schemes.

Saints, Massacres, and the Stain of Blood

Catherine’s darkest legacy is the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre. Thousands of Huguenots were slaughtered in Paris in 1572. Whether she ordered it or allowed it is still debated. But her enemies didn’t care. Her reputation was sealed.

From that day forward, she wasn’t just a queen. She was the queen who bathed in blood. The woman with the mirror. The one who whispered in shadows. She became the villain in every Protestant’s story of Catholic tyranny—and the “occult queen” image stuck.

Some even claimed she used wax poppets and cursed objects to eliminate her enemies. There’s no proof. But again, when fear is your currency, people’s imaginations do the heavy lifting for you.

Occult as Strategy

Here’s the thing folks miss when they talk about Catherine’s use of magic. They think it was about superstition. But Catherine was a Medici. She was raised in a world where science, art, and magic all shared a table. Alchemy wasn’t fringe—it was just the edge of science. Astrology wasn’t “woo”—it was politics by another name.

What Catherine did was use the occult as another instrument of rule. She didn’t replace diplomacy with divination. She used both. She used everything.

The mirror didn’t make her weak. It made her dangerous. Because the men who underestimated her couldn’t understand what she was really seeing—or what she was willing to do with it.

The Reputation That Outlived Her

serpent queenCatherine de’ Medici died in 1589, but her legend didn’t. For centuries, she’s been used as a cautionary tale: the foreign queen who brought poison and paganism to the French crown. The devil’s widow. The dark mother.

But look a little closer, and you’ll see something else.

You’ll see a woman using every tool available to survive a court that wanted her gone. You’ll see a ruler who understood the power of symbols, timing, and fear. You’ll see a queen who stared into a black mirror not to summon demons—but to hold onto her kingdom.

If that makes her a witch, then maybe the word “witch” needs rethinking.

Catherine de’ Medici didn’t invent the occult. But she used it like a scalpel—precisely, quietly, and only when it counted. That mirror didn’t just show visions of the future. It showed her the truth of her present: that in a world built for kings, a queen had to fight dirty, or not at all.

History turned her into a villain. That’s nothing new for a powerful woman who wouldn’t back down. But for those of us who understand magic not as fantasy, but as a tool of agency and control, Catherine’s legacy is worth revisiting.

She wasn’t the serpent. She was the fire they tried to stamp out—reflected in a dark mirror, and still burning.

How My Chaotic Writing Process Helps Me Write More Books

How My Chaotic Writing Process Helps Me Write More Books

Posted on by Papa Gee

People ask me how I write and put out books so fast. I write in complete chaos, but it somehow works. I’m always writing. And I don’t mean one book at a time. I jump around between several. I might work on the money magic book in the morning, and then later that night, I’m elbow-deep in love spells or jotting down ideas for a chapter on scent and ritual. I follow the flow and write where the energy is moving. Do I have a problem with focusing my attention? Maybe. But that’s how I keep it fresh and don’t get stuck or bored.gregory lee white

I always start by building a table of contents. I learned that trick from my good friend, Catherine Yronwode, who I have co-authored two books with. That table of contents, knowing where the book is going, is what keeps me from spinning my wheels. I lay out the whole book first—chapter titles, sections, all of it—so when I sit down to write, I already know what goes where. I keep it all in an Excel file with columns for chapters, sections within a chapter, notes, spells, ideas, and links to other articles and research on the subject. I then pick a section and work on it. A little here, a little there. It adds up.

And sometimes, I just let the writing sit. Right now, I’ve got three books sitting at around 75%, another that’s 90% done, and five more fully outlined with their first few chapters written. They’re just waiting. Then, one day, the muse shows up, and I sit down. The next thing you know, I finish up all of them and prep them for release. That’s why I might go 18 months without publishing anything—and then suddenly, five new titles come out at once.

Writing nonfiction is different than fiction. I’m not inventing characters—I’m writing what I already know, use, and teach. So, there is no writer’s block here. And believe me, when I try to write fiction, there is plenty of writer’s block. I get to around a hundred pages, then don’t know what will happen next. With nonfiction, I’m not guessing. I’m remembering, researching, explaining, and making it useful for someone else.

And the more books I write, the easier it gets. You find your rhythm. You get faster—not because you’re rushing, but because you’re writing about things you talk about every day anyway. Running a metaphysical shop, we’re having these conversations all the time. Someone comes in asking about money work or candle magic or how to use tarot in spellwork—and before you know it, you’ve explained it ten different ways that week. So when it’s time to write it down, it’s already lived in. It’s just about getting it on the page.

Also, I love the research. Even if I’ve studied a topic for years, I still dig in again while I’m writing. Not just to double-check things but because I want to learn something new. Sometimes, I find things that completely reframe my thoughts about the subject. It’s exciting and, at times, humbling. It reminds you that, no, you don’t know everything. That curiosity becomes its own kind of muse. And when a book is finished, I know more about that subject than when I started.

I just released Hecate: The Goddess of Witchcraft and Tarot Magic: Spells, Spreads, and Sorcery Using the Tarot Deck—which was originally a class I taught on ZOOM last year. I’ve got The Sacred Phallus releasing very soon, followed by Money Magic – Spells for Abundance and Prosperity. Then there are three more titles close to done and another four fully outlined and underway.

For editing, I use the online software Grammarly—mostly because I tend to ignore proper punctuation when I’m in writing mode. It’s good for catching little things I miss and sometimes suggests ways to clarify a sentence. But honestly, I probably only take its suggestions about 30% of the time. If you follow it too closely, you end up editing all the personality out of your writing. And I’d rather keep the voice real, even if there’s an extra comma here and there.

It sounds like a lot, and it is—but I love what I do. I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was 12. I played with it off and on over the years, but I didn’t publish my first book until I was in my early 40s when I began my journey into nonfiction writing. So maybe I’m playing catch-up now. Or maybe I just finally found my rhythm.

you can visit my complete Amazon author page here: Gregory Lee White on amazon