There’s no better place to be a witch than in San Francisco, except maybe Oakland. There’s no better time to be a witch than now, when the world seems so out of control that people are searching for something — anything — to ground them.
Before I became a witch, I suffered from four years of severe depressive episodes and panic attacks. I started to see a psychiatrist. Soon pills filled my drawers and medicine cabinets, rattling in every purse I owned. Prozac, Xanax, Ambien, Trazodone, Lexapro, Wellbutrin, Cymbalta, Loestrin, Vicodin — none of them took the tidal waves of morbid thoughts out of my veins.
I was a drug addict, an imposter moving through the world with a fake smile and just enough black eyeliner to mask the bags from self-medication, driven by fear and loathing of myself. My brain stopped working in a healthy way, leading to bouts of bedridden days and pill-popping writing sessions so I could feel like my “dangerous” self again. I became depressed even when holding my guitar because each chord, and every melody, brought me pain.
I considered overdosing on the pharmacy’s worth of pills I had, peacefully nodding off in the bathtub while listening to my favorite band, Green Day. The idea of doing so became so close to reality that I couldn’t get it off my mind. Then I thought about the movie Fight Club. I’d always related to the cool side of the narrator. But really, I was the boring side. Tyler Durden once said, “Losing all hope is freedom.” But what did freedom look like? Was it therapy? A job? A doctor? Was it becoming a witch?
I had to connect with something, or I’d definitely become unhinged, untethered from the ground like a person with a balloon for a head. But instead of floating into the atmosphere and turning to my familiar friend, self-destruction, I went to Ravens Wing Magical Co. in Oakland for an after-work seance of my own spirit.
The magick (in witchcraft, “magic” is spelled with a “k”)
“Hello, welcome in,” said the woman behind the counter. She was a striking African American woman with a gorgeous smile and eyes that sparkled with an otherworldly glow. She was something I hadn’t seen in a while: a confident woman. She had a black scarf draped around her shoulders like a fog layer you see around San Francisco. There was a lightness to the way she walked — she seemed to be floating while her feet remained on the ground.
“Looking for anything in particular?” she asked me.
“No, I’m just…” I started saying, but then I stopped myself, conjuring up the darkness that keeps me up at night. “Well, actually, I’d like to build an altar. I really need psychological and spiritual protection.”
I surprised myself by being so honest with someone I’d just met. Maybe it was the beaded curtains and glass jars full of crystals. Maybe it was the soft music — a weeping-violin-and-sitar combination that could make Morrissey cry. Or maybe I had lost all hope and realized that there was nothing more to lose.
“Of course. That is something we see a lot,” she said. “I can sense that you’re in need of healing.”
When I asked the woman about altars, she told me, “It’s yours, and you can do whatever you want. That’s what matters.”
She recommended some things to kick-start my spiritual-protection altar. Witchcraft is about symbolism. Objects represent feelings and desires. You put your energy into them to create a sense of overall control. I went home and created an altar with some objects and personal-inspiration tokens.
Here’s what makes up my spiritual-protection altar:
White sage
The burning of sage appears in pop culture everywhere. From movies to ghost-hunting shows, the idea of protection from evil spirits is what draws many to these dried leaves. The act of “smudging” is a ritual that dates back to the Native Americans. Sage, in particular, is a cleansing herb that banishes dark spirits, resets living spaces, and protects the user from psychic attack. According to Hoodwitch.com, one of my favorite resources for potions, spells, and general magick knowledge, sage has been used for centuries by shamans, medicine men, and ritual healers to cleanse the body and home.
Sage is easy to find — even some Whole Foods stores sell it. I light mine and wave it around my space. I use sage to reset my space and my mind. However, if you want to make burning sage more of a ritual, the Sage Goddess says, “As the smoke rises into the air, picture your intention, whatever it may be.”
Note: White sage is at risk due to overharvesting. Here’s a great resource for sustainable alternatives.
Black salt
By far my favorite magickal discovery, black salt, or witch’s salt, is the pinnacle of protection tools. Having been used for centuries, black salt works mysteriously to break hexes and ward off evil spirits, and it doubles as a home protectant.
Witchipedia says that black salt absorbs toxic energies, so if you’re having a particularly bad day or week, you may want to sprinkle it at the threshold of your door or room. I sprinkle some in my bath to help cleanse my body and soul after a tough day. I’ve used black salt to cope with my suicidal ideation to make the tub a sacred, safe space again.
Black salt can also be used to send out hexes and curses, but I’ve decided to adhere to the Wiccan Rede, a code of ethics for witches: “An’ ye harm none, do what ye will,” which means “Do what you want as long as you’re not hurting anyone.”
Palo Santo
Literally translating to “holy wood,” Palo Santo has roots in the metaphysical community that go back as far as Salem. I was first introduced to this magickal wood by a former roommate in San Francisco. Her name was Dawn, and one day she knocked on my door, asking in her soft voice, “May I cleanse your energy?”
That’s when my love affair with Palo Santo started. The smell is fresh and floral but also earthy, like a forest just after rain. For those who are dealing with mental illness or general unrest in their lives, this cleansing smoke is paramount.
I start this ritual by lighting some Palo Santo at one end. I like to control the smoke’s path by waving it in a circular motion after picking an oracle card (a card that carries a single message or intent) at my altar. I like to focus on a life question and then draw a card from the deck to help me divinate a meaning and direction. I do this ritual on restless Sunday nights before preparing for another week of work.
There is some controversy around using Palo Santo and white sage. Some Wiccans and witches believe that ritual is an honoring of the natural substance. Others say it is appropriation. Please research and decide for yourself.
Dalmatian Jasper
My piece of Dalmatian jasper jumped out at me while I was looking through a glass case in another East Bay metaphysical shop, the Mystic’s Dream. My piece is shaped like a cat. I adopted my first and only cat, Twiggy, in college. She’s a tough yet needy animal with a beautiful face. This object reminded me of Twiggy, and without knowing its use, I brought the “familiar” home, and it just felt right. “Familiar” refers to an animal that you identify with spiritually; it can be anything from a cat to a capybara.
Dalmatian jasper provides psychic protection. It also helps you open up to the ones you love. When I’m feeling stuck, I place the crystal over my heart and breathe deeply three times. The practice of mindfully telling yourself to slow your roll and refocus has done wonders for my panic disorder.
Book of Shadows
It may sound nefarious, but the majority of witches document their spells and rituals in a sacred text called the “Book of Shadows.” Witchipedia explains the book as a diary and a place for thoughts, rituals, spells, and important learnings from witchcraft. Historically, these books were destroyed upon a witch’s death, but modern witches see them as texts that can be shared among fellow magick seekers for inspiration and guidance.
Many mental-health experts swear by the process of journaling. As a writer, I’ve always used this practice to help me get the madness out of my head and into something concrete. My Book of Shadows doesn’t contain madness but rather calmness. It has become my bible.
My spiritual-protection altar
My magickal guide from Raven’s Wing encouraged me to add objects to my altar that align with my true being. Since I felt like my true being was lost, I looked inward into who I thought I was and placed a pencil at my altar to pay homage to great writers and to empower me to become a great one too.
I use a green glass bowl to cleanse my crystals and promote prosperity. In Wiccan and pagan circles, the color green is synonymous with wealth and prosperity and connects with the heart chakra. There’s a gold candle in the center of my crystal arrangement to promote luck and energy.
When I placed my guitar alongside my altar, it truly became a sanctuary. This is my happy place. No matter how much time I spend at the altar, I know it’s being spent well. In therapy, I learned that I can’t stifle my negative emotions— I have to look them in their hostile little faces.
Get witchy with it
By managing my mental health, I discovered personal strength through witchcraft. I was recently diagnosed with bipolar disorder after struggling for 10 years. I have never felt in control of my life until now with the help of doctors, my family, my boyfriend, and my rituals as a new witch.
If you want to explore witchcraft, start with guides about Wicca, the official religion of witches. Wiccan beliefs stem from a reverence for nature, the acceptance of reincarnation, and the notion that magick lies in all of earth’s creatures.
It’s not necessary to be Wiccan to be a witch, but the teachings of Wicca will be an empowering and positive companion to your practice. I started by reading Wiccapedia (yes, that’s actually what it’s called) to give me a good grip on the religion part of witchcraft. I still have so much to learn and am by no means an expert.
I now use my knowledge of witchcraft and Wicca to start my day with a mindfulness practice — with the hope of finding the strength not only to face my demons but to dance with them in the moonlight. Some of us are rooted in the dark, bloody earth, and it’s difficult to separate ourselves from that. Self-care and self-realization don’t come in a pretty pink box for me; they come in a black cauldron.
Witchcraft is a “choose your own adventure” type of experience. It’s punk-rock self-care. It just might be the most freeing thing of all.
