Thursday, July 16, 2026

Book of Shadows vs Grimoire


Something I see consistently is the interchanging of "Book of Shadows" and "Grimoire." While the two are similar, sometimes combined, and sometimes overlap, they are still two very distinct and different things.


Book of Shadows – a personalized journal used within practices to record a practitioner's spiritual journey, spells used, and ritual experiences.
  • Origin: coined in the 1940s by Gerald Gardner, it is a modern and highly personal subcategory of Grimoires
  • Content: these contain deeply personal reflections, dream logs, esbat celebrations, and rituals of the practitioner’s spellwork
  • Connection: a Book of Shadows is meant to reflect or “shadow” its owner, documenting their personal spiritual life and magical growth
  • Usage: individuals create their own Book of Shadows, usually from scratch


Grimoire – a broader and historically rooted reference manual of magical theories, recipes, and instructions that can be used by anyone. It is NOT personal to one individual.
  • Origin: derives from the French word “grammaire” which refers to Latin grammar books. Since Latin was often indecipherable to the general public, the term “grammar” became synonymous with “obscure,” “magical,” or “complex texts.” By the 18th century, “grammaire” evolved to “grimoire” to describe historical books of magic.
  • Context: these serve as a textbook, or manual of magic. Grimoires typically contain universal magical knowledge, detailed instructions for things like spells and summoning, astrological correspondences, and recipes for talismans.
  • Connection: Grimoires are instructional rather than journal-like, and contain historical texts that can be studied by any practitioner, regardless of their spiritual path
  • Usage: sometimes covens have a grimoire specific to their coven


A modernized practice, and common among solitary practitioners, is to combine the instructional nature of a Grimoire with the personal journal elements of a Book of Shadows, into a singular volume. There is no specific name for this practice, but it is commonly referred to as a “magical journal” a “book of ways” or a “book of craft.”

Creating a Magical Journal

Your book can be entirely unique to you and certainly does not have to follow a set structure. My own personal book is written more like a journal, with random research scattered throughout. It’s structured more like a timeline of my journey, documenting things as I go and grow.

Below is a generalized layout if you’re looking for a bit more structure. Remember, you can make this entirely your own, and add or take away whatever you feel is right.

  • Choose a Medium 
    • Traditional Notebook – a blank journal, a leather folio, a sketchbook
    • Digital Document – a private app (Notion, OneNote, etc), a secure folder, a private blog
    • Handy Dandy Binder – probably the easiest choice for beginners due to the ability to rearrange pages
  • Dedications + Blessings 
    • If you would like to, write a short introductory paragraph on the first page that states your intention, goals, or protective blessing
    • If you would like to cleanse your book, this would also be a great time to do so
  • Establish Structure 
    • Table of Contents – if you desire one, leave a few blank pages to create a table of contents as you go
    • Basics – state your own personal moral code and goals, or any dogma that you choose to follow (example: the Wiccan Rede)
    • Correspondence – leave a section to research magical correspondences such as the lunar phases, crystals, herbs, colors, and historical timelines
    • Rituals + Spells – include a section to list instructions for casting circles, recipes, and spells
    • Journaling – leave yourself plenty of blank space to journal your daily life, write about any dreams or divinations, record ritual reflections, and spell outcomes.
  • Write It 
    • Don’t wait for the perfect time to write. Just do it. Your entries do not have to be perfect; write what comes to mind and don’t worry about spellings or scratched out mistakes.
    • If you’re struggling to start, try writing exactly why you chose to create this book, where your current knowledge level is, and what you hope to learn.


“I bought this journal with the intent of documenting my journey back into my spirituality. Back into my craft. I’ll use this as a stepping stone towards a Book of Shadows Ways, and will later organize things for a comprehensive book. […] It has occurred to me that I haven’t blessed and cleansed this before beginning it with my declaration. I am rusty, and clumsy with my craft. I’m not surprised, its how I’ve always been. I am excited, too excited maybe, and my brain forgets the order of things when I’m clouded with excitement.”

- from the first entry of my own current Magical Journal

Wednesday, July 1, 2026

Disability Pride + Witchcraft

July is Disability Pride Month, in commemoration of the anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act being signed into law (July 26th, 1990). During this month, we honor the history, achievements, and intersectional experiences of disabled individuals, while also continue to push for true accessibility and inclusion. Disability Pride Month reframes disability as a natural and meaningful part of human diversity. It's not something shameful. Disability Pride encourages dismantling societal barriers and pushes to eliminate internalized ableism.

The Arc's National Council of Self-Advocates has announced the theme for this year's Disability Pride Month is "The World Works Better With Us," and I find it truly fitting. It emphasizes that society functions better for everyone when disabled individuals are respected, included, and accommodated. This holds true even in witchcraft.



Celebrating Disabled Witches

Celebrating our fellow disabled witches is vital, as disability directly enriches witchcraft, deepens communal magical knowledge, and honors the true history of witchcraft. Witchcraft is inherently an adaptive and counter-cultural practice. Embracing disabled practitioners aligns our community with the core values of sovereignty, resilience, and transformation. 


Driving Magical Innovation

Disabled practitioners are the pioneers of accessible magic - practices that prioritize inclusitivioty. Out of necessity, these practitioners have created innovative methods to strip away rigid, expensive, and physically exhausting dogmas, and instead refocus witchcraft towards intent and energy. Their spellwork shows that spells don't require standing for long periods of time or hand-foraged tools, in order for their spellwork to be potent. Their contributions such as digital altars, mental astral projection, and using everyday mundane tasks as acts of devotion, have all helped make witchcraft versatile enough to survive and thrive in our modern world. 


Unique Perspectives

In many mainstream spaces, chronic illness is falsely blamed on "negative thinking" or "bad karma," and the body is treated as a vessel that should be flawless. Disabled practitioners actively dismantle this harmful narrative with radical self-acceptance. They reframe this narrative to viewing the body as inherently sacred and magical, exactly as it is - disabilities and all. Living with chronic pain, sensory or mental health difficulties, or neurodivergence often forces a very hyper-aware relationship with the body and the brain. This awareness allows disabled practitioners to offer profound insights into grounding, energy work, somatic healing, and even mediumship. Often they have insights that able-bodied practitioners commonly overlook.


Honoring Historical Witch Trials

The witchcraft community must acknowledge that disability and the "witch" archetype have always been intertwined, in order to fully understand the history of witchcraft. During historical witch hunts, people with physical deformities, dementia, epilepsy, and mental health conditions were disproportionately targeted, tortured, and executed because their differences were feared or misunderstood. Celebrating disabled practitioners today is a form of active reclamation and historical justice. It honors the memory of those who were marginalized in the past by ensuring they are now centered, protected, and respected in modern magical spaces. 


Magic of Adaption

Magic is the art of shifting reality, overcoming obstacles, and surviving using one's inner power. No group embodies this magical philosophy more consistently than disabled practitioners. They must constantly navigate an inaccessible world through sheer resourcefulness, creativity, and resilience. Celebrating them means recognizing that their ability to bend traditional rules to fit their physical reality is not a compromise, rather it is a profound lesson in personal sovereignty and genuine adaptable willpower. 


Inclusive Community

When a community actively accommodates and celebrates disabled individuals, the entire group benefits. Designing spaces that account for low-energy, sensory sensitivities, and mobility issues, forces the community to slow down, practice deeper empathy, and prioritize the well-being of the collective over a rigid performance. A community that learns to care for its most vulnerable members, builds a much stronger, more resilient magical foundation. 


Accessible Magic

Sometimes referred to as "spoonie magic," it adapts traditional rituals to accommodate chronic pain, limited energy, sensory issues, and more. Accessible magic focuses on low-effort but high-impact practices that empower practitioners without requiring elaborate tools, standing for long periods of time, or excessive physical labor or cleanses. Accessible magic reminds witches that witchcraft is customizable to fit specific physical and mental capacities. 

True accessibility requires a mindset shift away from gatekeeping perfectionism. Move away from the physical performance of rituals, and focus on the internal intention behind them. Reminding practitioners that the universe, deities, and spirits respond to the energy of the mind, and not the cost of tools or duration of stances, reframes intention over action. 

If brain fog, pain flair-ups, or low-energy interrupt a ritual midway through, it shouldn't be seen as a magical failure. Release that guilt. Closing the space with a simple mental "thank you and goodbye" is completely valid. 

Reframe rest, sleep, and taking care of one's body as an act of honoring the sacred vessel of the spirit. Rest is a ritual, and the spirit is whole even if the body is limited. The strength of practices and spellwork does not depend on meeting a specific level of energy. Budget your spoons as needed to ensure that health remains a priority.



Accessible Adjustments

When it comes to adjusting magic in order to make it accessible, there are three key areas to focus on: the physical space of practice, reducing high-energy work and hazardous tools, and practicing low-energy magic.

The Practice Space

The area in which a witch practices their craft is a sacred and functional space. That does not change if a practitioner is disabled. It should still remain functional to the witch. Disabled practitioners may require a more creative way of keeping their space functional for them than the usual altars that require standing or sitting in specific positions for extended periods. 

Mobile or Travel Altars are a great accessible adjustment. They can be set on rolling utility carts, on a decorative tray, or kept in a suitcase or other container. This allows the altar and practice space to be brought directly to the practitioner's bed, sofa, or chair - allowing them a more comfortable environment for their body to rest easily.

Along the same lines, Lap Altars can be used by keeping a tray, cutting board, or other flat surface nearby, so that the altar may sit comfortably on the practitioner's lap and allow them to even recline if need be.

Digital or Virtual Altars serve to aid not just disabled practitioners, but those who are still in the broom closet, or practicing in secrecy. Creating a Pinterest board, picture album on a phone, folder on a computer, or even an interactive app like Notion, allows practitioners to use images of crystals, candles, deities, and other tools to represent physical items in their practice. This is also a great way for online covens to practice together.

Don't be afraid of digital tools. I know there are a lot of mixed feelings on using AI (in general, let alone in witchcraft), but if there is an app or platform that helps make magic more accessible, don't be quick to dismiss it away. Many disabled practitioners use these online tools to help aid them in their practice by organizing notes, assisting in learning, and aiding in visualization and meditation. 

Reduce High-Energy + Hazards

The idea that magic is successful only if performed a certain way, with specific tools, or specific actions, is downright silly if you think about it. Magic has always been adaptive, and practitioners have always adapted their craft to fit their needs - often out of a need for protection and safety. High-energy practices can be adjusted to lower-energy practices by simplifying complexities. 

There is no need to slave away with a mortar and pestle to grind herbs you grew or foraged (unless you really want to). Store bought and pre-ground herbs are just fine. All those spells that require burying remnants or jars of "potions" really don't have to be buried. You can simply throw them in the trash or flush them down a drain, and have the same magical effects. Instead of painstakingly carving sigils or runes into wax or wood, just write them on paper or trace them in condensation, or in lotion on the skin. And who says you can't use battery operated candles if you're worried about the hazards of fire (for those with brain fog, or mobility issues)? Room sprays and essential oil rollers work just fine too. 

Low-Energy Magic

There's no reason to exhaust yourself over complex practices. Witchcraft is to empower you, not drain you. Remember, magical intent will take you further than magical actions. Mundane magical practices are some of the oldest ways of practicing magic. Turn daily required tasks into spellwork. Stir a drink to manifest. Use bathing and showering as cleanses, and let the water simply wash negative energy, pain, and fatigue down the drain. Reframe daily medications and medical treatments into rituals of bodily protection and self-care. That's glamour magic right there!

Can you perform entire magical rituals through mental visualization, while laying in bed with your eyes closed? Yes you can. Don't underestimate the power of manifestation and astral work. In many traditions, a circle cast in the mind is just as powerful as one laid out with physical tools.

Skyclad Dancing

Finally, I want to go a bit more in depth about the practice of skyclad dancing. In many traditions, this is an act of celebration, manifestation, and a magical ritual within itself. In talking with a few fellow disabled witches, this was a practice that seemed to be longed for. Since such deep emotion seems to be tied to this act, I feel it deserves a deeper dive, and special attention when discussed in Accessible Magic.

When people think of skyclad dancing within witchcraft practices, the image of beautiful abled-bodied individuals dancing around a bonfire is usually the first thing that comes to mind. When we make accessible adjustments to this practice, we first need to shift the focus from rigid physical performance, and redefine dancing. Instead of stereotyping dancing to bodies on their feet moving in specific rhythms, define dancing as an act of kinetic energy. That's not limited to abled-bodies on their feet. Instead, it focuses on sensory comfort, psychological safety, and bodily autonomy. It holds space for movement while seated or laying down, micro-movements, and astral dancing. This opens accessibility to practitioners with mobility aids, chronic pain, and various other conditions.

When making the concept of "skyclad" accessible, we have to understand that complete nudity can be physically or emotionally impossible for disabled practitioners. This can be from the use of medical devices, temperature dysregulation, body dysmorphia, or various other factors. Allowing for a broader definition of "skyclad" to include whatever state of dress allows a person to feel most connected to themselves and nature makes this concept more inclusive. We can consider medical equipment like ostomy bags, insulin pumps, ports, braces, and mobility aids as extensions of the practitioner's body, and thus part of their sacred physical self - not something to be shed. 

Sensory adjustments are another thing to consider. These types of rituals can be very overwhelming for those who are neurodivergent, or have chronic migraines or sensory processing disorders. Making environmental adjustments like keeping a scent-free space and adjusting lighting and acoustics, help make the space more inclusive. Also keep in mind that chronically ill bodies often struggle to maintain heat, so the temperature of the space should be properly maintained, or allow for blankets, heating pads, and other tools for temperature regulation.

There is an immense level of vulnerability to skyclad dancing. Creating a trauma-informed space for practice is essential for disabled practitioners who may have experienced medical trauma or societal shame regarding their bodies, or for those with mental illness. Community spaces should operate with an “opt-in” mentality towards both dancing and being skyclad. The option of presence without physical participation validates practices like astral dancing. All practitioners should remain focused on the ritual being done and not on other participants’ bodies, whether clothed or not. 

Remember, the focus is always on the magic. While the physical process of achieving successful magical workings may change and adjust, the act of intentional work will always remain the same. 




Thursday, June 18, 2026

Death + Spirituality

In the last entry, I talked about my transition into a caregiver role for my elderly grandmother, who had been existing in the liminal “between worlds” state with her own veil thinning. She completed her journey after 91 days in our care. As my role of caregiver for my grandmother evolved into supportive caregiving for my mother, I found another new role that was interwoven in this process: an emotional anchor in death. 

This is someone who provides a steady, safe, and grounding presence during times of loss, or transition toward death. Hospice care comes to mind most commonly, and we certainly had hospice helping provide care for my grandmother. But what I am talking about is being an emotional anchor for my other family members. Remaining calm and being a solid space where they could stabilize during this process, and validate their emotions and decisions. 

It was natural for my search of solace also transitioned from the spiritual understanding of dementia, to the spiritual understanding of death. It was a natural next step in the cycle.