Ritual: Turn your Mobility Aid into a Wand, Staff, or Chariot

There is so much shame and fear associated with mobility aids in our culture. If you’re capable of standing and walking at all, you’re told that mobility aids aren’t for you. “Why on earth would you limit yourself and let your illness win when you can and should be strengthening your legs?” (Sarcasm there.) If you spend most of your time in a wheelchair but then stand or walk briefly, your entire disability is called into question. “You could walk this whole time???” And if you’re a full-time wheelchair user, it’s “such a tragedy.” 

What an ableist view, right? I use a cane probably 50-60% of the time I leave the house, and I have a rollator that I bring along when I know my destination will require a lot of standing in one place. My cane helps me feel less shaky and off-balance, especially during bad pain flareups. My rollator gives me a mobile place to sit if I’m waiting in line or doing something outdoors. And while I can’t speak to the experience of using a wheelchair, I’ve heard many folks talk about how their wheelchair gives them mobility, freedom, and extra energy they’d have to save for walking otherwise. Here’s a brilliant blog piece by disabled creator Kathleen Downes about her experience with her wheelchair. 

My point here is that our mobility aids deserve celebration and acknowledgement, not shame and guilt. And from a witchy point of view, why shouldn’t they be a source of power, too? We enchant objects of all kinds; we tune into the energy of crystals and trees and the earth itself; why can’t we give our mobility aids the same treatment? This ritual is built for that purpose. Use it to turn your cane into a wand or staff, your rollator or wheelchair into a chariot, or infuse any mobility tools that you use with magical energy. 

I’ve designed this ritual to be as customizable as possible. You can use every single one of the steps in the order I’ve laid out, of course, but you’re also welcome to change the order, skip steps that don’t apply or that you don’t have the energy/resources for, add step, etc. Think of it as an outline that you can fill in and edit however you please. 


  • The mobility aid you want to enchant
  • A space to work comfortably, ideally where you won’t be interrupted by anyone not participating in the ritual


  • Things to decorate your mobility aid with, like stickers, paint, ribbon, etc. 
  • Something to take notes with, like pen and paper, a tablet or phone, voice recording apps, etc.
  • Anything you use to connect with ancestors, deity, spirits, etc., and an offering if you’d like to give them something for their help 
  • Representations of the four elements, such as a candle, bowl of water, bowl of dirt or sand, and feather
  • Music, either to help you get into a meditative mood or to inspire feelings of power and triumph
  • Something to anoint with, such as moon water, essential oil, your favorite tea, etc. 


  1. After gathering your supplies and finding your space to work, take a few moments for your preferred method of preparing for ritual. Cast a circle if it suits you. Center and ground yourself to the earth, perhaps. Say an opening prayer to whoever or whatever you’d like. Or simply spend a minute or two focusing on your breath until you feel acclimated to the ritual headspace. Whatever helps you shake off mundane concerns and get ready for ritual.  
  2. If you work with deities, ancestors, or any sort of spirit, and you’d like to include them in this ritual, invite them into the space. Share your intentions for today’s work (to infuse your mobility aid with power and magic). Make your offering if you have one.
  3. If you work with the four elements, ask each of them to bless your mobility aid with their unique gifts. There’s many ways you could go about this, and only you know how the elements’ flavors appear for you and how they might connect with your mobility aid. Here’s one option: 

“Element of Earth, keep me rooted as I move with this aid. 

Element of Water, keep me well as I flow with this aid. 

Element of Air, keep me flexible as I soar with this aid.

Element of Fire, keep me energized as I act with this aid.” 

  1. Meditate for a few minutes on the negative feelings you associate with your mobility aid. This can be both your own negative feelings (any shame or guilt you harbor, feeling less-than abled people who don’t require mobility aids, etc.) and the negative feelings of others (thoughtless or ableist comments you’ve received about your mobility aid, treating your accessibility needs like a burden, etc.) Then consciously release those feelings. If visualization works well for you, imagine taking all of those feelings and comments, putting them into a box, and throwing it in the garbage or off a cliff. If you’re more verbally-focused, imagine your own voice or the voice of a trusted loved one shouting so loud that all the negative comments are drowned out. You can even jot down the comments and feelings as they come up, and then either rip up the paper or burn it (being mindful of fire safety, of course). Say aloud or to yourself, “My (mobility aid) is no more shameful than one of my own limbs. It does not deserve guilt or embarrassment.” 
  2. Assuming that this is a mobility aid you’ve been using before now, thank it for its help up through this point. If it happens to be brand new, welcome it to your life! 
  3. As you might with a crystal, put your hands on your mobility aid, close your eyes if you’re comfortable doing so, and pay attention to any impressions, images, or ideas that rise up in your mind. Is there a particular energy that comes to you? A trait or some sense of a distinct personality? A word or sound that plays in your mind’s ear? A color? No matter if something feels completely nonsensical or unrelated, make note of it (even take a minute to jot it down, if you’re so inclined). 
  4. Still with your hands on your mobility aid, ask if there is anything (within reason) that it would like in return for its service? This could take many forms. Perhaps your mobility aid would like to be left to charge under a full or new moon from time to time, just like a crystal. Maybe it would appreciate if you spoke a small prayer before or after using it. It might just want gratitude and acknowledgment for all the work it does and the support it provides. Again, make note of this, either mentally or in your note-taking implement of choice. 
  5. Anoint your mobility aid. You could use moon water, which is made simply by leaving a container of water out under moonlight, most commonly a full moon. You could use your favorite essential oil, or choose an essential oil that’s associated with something you’d like to infuse your mobility aid with (e.g. sandalwood oil for healing, or sage for protection). Or you can even brew a favorite tea and use a few drops of that to anoint with. Be mindful of your mobility aid’s make and limitations, though–you don’t want to get liquid into the workings of a power chair, for example, or corrode the metal of your cane. I recommend only using a few drops to anoint, and using a clean cloth to wipe the liquid away when you’re finished with the spell. 
  6. Decorate your mobility aid! Use stickers, ribbons, paint, markers, anything you’d like that will make it feel more like You. (Again, make sure to be aware of keeping the aid in good shape.) If you want to infuse even more magic into this step, create a sigil for your mobility aid and then put it onto the aid, either by painting it or by drawing the sigil on a blank sticker and placing that on the aid somewhere. (I’ve included the sigil that I designed for my cane in my notes after these ritual instructions, which you are welcome to use if it speaks to you. But I encourage you to create your own here, especially if you’re enchanting something that isn’t cane-shaped, since I incorporated that shape into the sigil itself.) 
  7. Why not take this opportunity to give your mobility aid a name? Like a sword from a Tolkien novel, or a boat that carries travelers safely to harbor, giving a name to a trusted object grants it an additional level of importance and power in your life. I have two canes; the first I got from my grandfather, and its name is Edward after his middle name. The second is named Mulberry because of how very purple she is. (That’s the cane I chose to enchant.) You could choose something simple like Edward, or descriptive like Mulberry, or you could choose something absolutely extravagant, like Pathblazer or the Flowercart. 
  8. Once you feel the ritual is complete, do whatever closing activities you prefer. Thank any deities or ancestors you called on for their time. Close the circle if you cast one at the start. Say a closing prayer or incantation. 

If you got a sense of what your mobility aid would like in return (step 7), make sure to follow through on that to the best of your ability. Be gentle with yourself if you need to adjust as you go, however. For example, if your rollator wants to be charged under a full moon, and next full moon you find yourself unable to get out of bed, be willing to reconnoiter. Of all the people and objects in your world, your mobility aid should understand if you need a raincheck. 

Image description: a purple walking cane is laid across a tarot cloth decorated with flowers, mushrooms, and a rising sun. Above the cane is laid out a selenite wand, carnelian and amethyst stones, a Hestia statue, a mug of tea, a smaller apothecary bottle, and a purple crocheted cane holder.

Here’s my very glamorous setup for this ritual (not actually). I wanted to do the ritual on my balcony, but it was cold and rainy, so I just wound up sitting on the floor in my living room. I used my favorite tarot cloth, and around that I arranged the beautiful cane holster that one of my partners crocheted for me. I also laid out my Hestia statue and two stones: carnelian, which is a stone I associate both with my own energy and Hestia’s, and an amethyst because amethysts are basically good for anything magical (plus it matched my cane!). I had my selenite wand for cleansing. Finally I made a cup of one of my favorite lavender teas, and I  put a few drops aside in an apothecary bottle for anointing my cane with. (I couldn’t get a good shot of Mulberry’s whole length without including the ragged strips of paper and shopping bags that my cat likes to play with, so apologies for the subpar picture!) 

Image description: on a page of notebook paper labelled "cane sigil" there is a symbol that is somewhat cane-shaped. It includes the alchemy symbol for earth, and has various graphic shapes running along beside it. Below the sigil is the invocation, which reads "grounded and rooted."

I won’t walk you through every step of the ritual as I did it. But I can tell you that I had charged Mulberry under the last full moon, and when I meditated on my connection with her, I got a strong sense of power and energy. She really liked being charged up in moonlight! So when I set out my moon water every full moon, I’m going to set Mulberry out, too. Her energy reminded me of the suit of Wands in tarot. And I’m excited to deepen my connection with her now that I have this deeper understanding of her. 

If you do this ritual I’d love to hear what pieces felt the most powerful to you, or what impressions you got of your mobility aid! And don’t forget to follow me on Instagram so you can see more of my day-to-day witchcraft, tips and tricks for disabled witches, and more! 

Ritual: Turn your Mobility Aid into a Wand, Staff, or Chariot Tiny Witchcraft

Fundamentals of Tiny Witchcraft: What Can I Do?

In my first post, I shared my small manifesto (mini-festo? …sorry) about how witchcraft should be accessible and nourishing for all of us, regardless of what challenges or alternate approaches our bodies and minds require of us. That’s all well and good to say, but how does that translate into the practicalities of working magic? We know we want an accessible practice, but how do we get there? 

The first thing to consider is what we can and can’t do. This may sound obvious, but when there’s a spell or ritual that I really really want to do, it’s way too easy for me to ignore what I should know about my body and step right over those can’ts. If you start with a sense of what is, isn’t, and might possibly be doable for you, you’ll be less likely to overdo it in the heat of the moment. And you’ll be armed with alternatives that you might use to substitute part of an activity that isn’t feasible for you. 

We’re going to come at this from two angles: objective stuff and subjective stuff. Initially I divided my questions by physical ability vs. mental ability, but that minimizes how much the two go hand-in-hand. Plus there’s objective things in both buckets that are easier to categorize (e.g. I use a wheelchair full-time, so I can’t do anything that involves standing or walking; or crowds often lead me to meltdowns, so I can’t do anything that involves crowds). And there’s subjective things in both buckets that might require more nuance to understand the cans, can’ts, and maybes. You know best where your limitations and hard lines in the sand are, whether they’re more mental or physical. So let’s explore! 


Some of the ways our bodies and brains work differently (or don’t work at all, as the case may be) are somewhat straightforward. For instance, I can say conclusively that with my chronic pain condition, a long hike through nature would not be possible for me. If you’re a blind witch, you probably aren’t going to create sigils. Now of course both of these could be possible with significant modifications–I might adjust “long nature walk” to “sitting outside for a few minutes,” and our hypothetical blind witch might ask for a sighted friend’s assistance in co-creating a sigil. But on its face, those limitations would be immediately apparent when we looked at a spell, and we’d know we either needed to think of some accommodations or search for a different spell. 

To get a broad sense of these limitations, create three lists: yes, no, and maybe/sometimes. In the yes category, place any activities that you know are doable for you without much or any accommodations needed. In the no category, place the opposite–activities that you absolutely cannot do, or you’d need significant modifications to achieve. And in the maybe/sometimes column, place activities that you aren’t sure of, or that you could only do under certain conditions. 

To get you thinking, here’s some activities that might come up in spellcraft and ritual. Are these yeses, nos, or maybes for you? 

  • Walking
  • Standing
  • Dancing
  • Sitting at a table
  • Sitting on the ground or floor
  • Ambulating a wheelchair without assistance
  • Typing
  • Writing with a pen or pencil
  • Crafts like knitting, cross stitch, etc. 
  • Driving
  • Burning candles or incense (with or without fragrance) 
  • Listening to music
  • Going to certain places (a park, a mall, a concert, etc.) 
  • Speaking aloud

This is by no means a complete list–add anything that you’ve run into as a limitation or challenge during your practice, or even just in your daily life. Some of them may not seem relevant to spellcraft, but you never know what might come up. And of course, this list can be added to or adjusted at any time! 

For the items in your maybe/sometimes column, you may already have a sense of what your parameters are (e.g. yes I can dance for a few minutes, but only if I’m not in the middle of a pain flare). But if you aren’t exactly sure where those edges are, they may be good items to examine more closely in the next section, subjective stuff. 


Many of our limitations are fuzzier and more difficult to define with a simple yes or no. How do things like depression and anxiety impact our witchcraft, for instance? During a fatigue flareup, are there witchy practices that energize us, or do they all need to be put aside for the moment? Only you know the answers to these questions, and indeed only you know the questions to be asking! I can’t make a comprehensive list of reflection questions for every possible chronic illness, disability, and neurodivergence. But here’s a few possible questions–use them as jumping-off points to get you thinking about your particular needs and how they manifest as limits and thresholds for magic. 

  • When I’m having mental health symptoms like high anxiety or deep depression, do any of my witchy practices help me center/ground myself? Do they require energy that I cannot give in the midst of a bad period? 
  • What do I need to maximize my focus during spellcraft? E.g. do I focus better with music or complete silence? In company or alone? Etc. 
  • During a pain flareup, are there witchy things I can do that take minimal effort? (E.g. drawing a single tarot card is often achievable for me, but it may be something different for you–or nothing) 
  • Thinking about my disability and/or neurodivergence, what challenges have I encountered? What challenges do I foresee? 
  • How might I creatively accommodate my own needs? (E.g. if reading text is hard for you, recording yourself describing the instructions/process of the spell, or asking a friend to read the instructions aloud for you)

As you reflect, your yes/no/maybe lists may shift. Something that felt like a solid yes or no might feel more like a sometimes as you consider parameters and potential accommodations. Or a maybe might turn out to be a solid no! Be honest about your needs and limits as they stand right now. But also recognize that these lists, answers, and reflections aren’t static. As your requirements change over time, or as you test things out, you can always revisit parts (or all!) of this exercise. 


Now that you’ve spent some time thinking through the logistics of what you can and can’t do in general, let’s finish up by applying those thoughts to your specific witchy disciplines. Think about the types of spellwork, rituals, and magical disciplines you’ve felt drawn to, or that you’ve been invited to participate in. Think about where you’ve run up against brick walls, where you’ve pushed too hard, and where you’ve said no without considering possible accommodations that could be made. Then reflect on these final three questions:

  • Looking at my answers to previous questions, what are some practices that would be low-impact enough for me to work somewhat regularly? (E.g. even on my bad days I can usually listen to music and do simple tarot readings, so I can make them consistent-ish parts of my witchcraft.) 
  • What are some activities that I could save for special occasions? (E.g. If I make sure to rest before and after, I could do a ritual that included 5-10 minutes of walking or sitting outside.) 
  • What common witchy practices do I know I’ll need to regularly avoid or heavily adjust? (E.g. rituals lasting more than 30 minutes, burning candles, etc.) 

As I’ve said already, there is no way for this to be a comprehensive list. You never know when your covenmate might ask you to go scuba diving as part of a spell, and you’ll realize that you never even remotely considered that possibility, so you aren’t exactly sure where your edge is. But having this foundation of knowledge about your capacity can carry you through some of the witchy practices that you’re likely to run across. And for those that blindside you, you’ll at least have experience in thinking through what you need for an activity to be accessible, possible, and even magical for you. 

Finally, an overall note. It’s a good idea to come up with some sort of check-in for yourself before you attempt any magic that requires effort/spoons. The most obvious method is the “rate your pain on a scale of 1-10” which I’m sure you’ve encountered in medical settings. You can apply this scale to pain, mental overwhelm, exhaustion, etc. And if that works for you, that’s great! Decide what your threshold will be (e.g. if my pain level is at 7 or above, I’ll save the witchcraft for another day) and do a quick rating of where you’re at before you dive into your magic. 

Personally though, I sort of hate the 1-10 rating. My threshold shifts from day to day–sometimes an 8 is manageable, and sometimes a 6 is unbearable (especially if it’s day four of an awful flareup). Plus I never dip below a 3 pain-wise, so is a 3 effectively my 0? I prefer to have a few “check engine” lights in mind. Rather than thinking in terms of numbers on a scale, I look for certain warning signs that I may be headed into a flareup. A few of mine are a prickly pins-and-needles pain all over my body, and suddenly being unable to keep my eyes open in the middle of the day (usually I’m an insomniac at all hours). 

If this method appeals more to you, spend a few minutes thinking about (and possibly writing down) what some of these check engine lights might be for you. Do you get teary? Do you get a headache? Do you start to feel depersonalized? Etc. It could be absolutely anything, as long as it’s relatively consistent for you and your edge. Then keep these signs in mind before you set up for a spell or ritual–if you’re experiencing any of them, it might be a good idea to postpone your plans, or at least scale them down significantly. 

Next time we’ll discuss tools and methods you might use to crip your craft! In the meantime, please consider preordering my book Your Tarot Toolkit. It contains tons of activities, reflections, and affirmations you can use to infuse your daily tarot card into your life. I wrote it with accessibility in mind, so there’s activities for all levels of energy and ability! 

Fundamentals of Tiny Witchcraft: What Can I Do? Tiny Witchcraft

Tarot Spread: What Does My Body Need?

Tarot cards are often used for messages, right? Sometimes we use them to tune into something outside ourselves: spirits, ancestors, deities, even the Universe itself. Other times we use them to turn deeply inward, seeking messages from our intuition, our subconscious, our memory. But have you ever used your tarot deck to receive a message from your own body? 

Even for the able-bodied and neurotypical, it can be tempting to see the body as something wholly separate from the mind or the spirit. To imagine that the mind and soul are places of pure logic and emotion, while the body is a soft, fragile-feeling thing that needs constant care. And this goes double for the neurodivergent (ND) and disabled among us. In my less-than-ideal moments. I see my body as an enemy. It punishes me with pain flareups for daring to live my life, it spitefully runs out of stamina at the most inconvenient moments, and it constantly finds new ways to trip me up. (And then I’m shocked when I’m dissociative, as if I haven’t done everything in my power to purposefully disconnect from my body. I am, as a friend would say, not a smart man.) 

There’s so many reasons why a disabled or ND person might feel at odds with their body, including pain, dysmorphia, body image, physical limitations, trauma, damaging medical “treatments” like ABA that teach us to ignore bodily sensations, dysphoria for the non-cisgender folks among us, and on and on. And while feeling embodied and connected 100% of the time might not be attainable (or even safe) for us, being disembodied and disconnected 100% of the time probably isn’t healthy, either.

Though they may be differently wired and often-frustrating for us, our bodies are tools, housings, and even sources of intuitive messages if we listen. One of my favorite artists, Sleeping at Last, sings in his heartachingly beautiful song Body, “A feather is a ton of bricks, or maybe I’m too sensitive. I don’t know. All I can say is this: from now on I’ll try to listen to intuition.” When our stomach drops at an ex’s text tone, that’s information. When our fingers feel warm or buzzy as they hover over a certain tarot card, that’s information. And we owe it to ourselves to at least spend some time mindfully connecting with our bodies. Even if we can only do so in small, mindful bursts. 

I designed this quick tarot spread for that purpose. The goal is to tune into the messages your body is trying to get across to you. The image that sprang to mind when I was deciding how to lay the cards out was a flower just blooming or a tree beginning to branch out, but one of my partners pointed out it could also be a person stretching their arms out over their head, and I love that image, too. 


I try (the keyword being try) to see my relationship with my body the same way I see any other relationship. Sometimes it gets on my nerves, sometimes I want nothing to do with it, but ultimately I do care about it and want it to be happy. And like a relationship, it needs to be a give and take. If I push my body too hard during an activity, I need to be understanding of its desire to knock me flat so I can recover afterwards. But facilitating that give-and-take is MUCH harder when my connection to my body is tenuous at best. So I use this spread as a quick check-in, a way of gauging how I’m getting on with my body and what it might need from me. 

Before you begin, take a few minutes to tangibly, physically connect with your body in whatever way feels comfortable. There’s a million ways you could accomplish this, but here’s a few possibilities: 

  • Taking a shower or bath and focusing on the sensations of the water against your skin
  • Using a fidget toy or stimming
  • Running your hands over your shoulders or arms, almost giving yourself a mini massage
  • Masturbating or having sex
  • Simply sitting still with a hand or two over your heart

When you feel ready, get your tarot deck of choice and lay out your cards in the following configuration: 

Image description: four rectangles representing tarot cards in a layout. The first card starts at the bottom, the second directly above that. The third card is just above the second card, but off to the right; and the fourth is just above the second card, but off to the left.

1. What is my relationship with my body?

2. What is my body trying to tell me right now?

3. What gift can I give to my body today? 

4. Who can I ask for help? 

Here’s a sample I did for myself, to give you a better sense of how this spread might play out. I used one of my absolute favorite decks, the Numinous Tarot, which is usually very honest with me but also very encouraging. It felt like the right combination of vibes for the spread.

Image description: An example of the tarot spread described above. The cards are on a purple cloth. The tarot cards themselves are colorful and inclusive. The first card is the three of swords, represented by three bells surrounding a heart. The second card is the nine of pentacles, represented by a person of color wearing a hijab and spectacles in a library. The third card is the page of wands, represented by a young person of color wearing floaty, ethereal clothing, holding a candle and surrounded by fireflies. The last card is the High Priestess, represented by a blindfolded person of color floating in space with a bell hovering in each hand.

What is my relationship with my body? I drew the Three of Bells (the equivalent of Swords in this deck). Okay, my deck clearly came out swinging today. Three of Swords signifies betrayal and heartbreak, and yeah, I can definitely fall into the trap of feeling like my body is a traitor to my cause. On an intellectual level, I recognize that my body isn’t the enemy and isn’t willfully trying to hurt me. But anyone with chronic pain can probably relate to that “why are you doing this to me?!” feeling.

Going a bit deeper, though, it’s very possible that my body feels betrayed and backstabbed by me, too. It’s doing its best to function despite how very overwhelmed and overstimulated it is, and here I am yelling at it for anything less than perfection. This card is a good reality check: my relationship with my body is what you might call Fraught, and that’s probably something I should work on. 

What is my body trying to tell me right now? We got Nine of Tomes (aka Pentacles). Initially I saw this as a purely positive thing: I am independent, and I’m figuring out how to sustain myself and my needs. But on second glance, this could be an echo of my first card. My body is saying, “Yo dude, I can’t go this alone and neither can you.” Which I definitely try to do sometimes, as evidenced by my manner of talking about my body: as if it is a separate entity and not part of me. My body is telling me that I need to be more interdependent with it.

What gift can I give to my body today? We have Dreamer of Candles, which translates to Page of Wands. This is a court card that overflows with inspiration and new ideas, someone who isn’t afraid to start from scratch again and again (though they sometimes struggle with the following-through part). The best gift I can give to my body is a willingness to approach everything with fresh eyes–the “beginner’s mind” that is often discussed in meditation and mindfulness practices. My body and I can’t tackle every activity as an able-bodied person could, and that’s okay. If I bring an energy of “how can I adapt this,” even (especially) if it’s outside-the-box, my body will have more opportunities to thrive.

Who can I ask for help? My intention with this question was to help the reader find a support buddy, whether that’s a family member or friend, a fur family member, a deity or ancestor, a coworker, anything! But in this case, we have the Diviner, which is the Numinous’s version of the High Priestess. This card is all about turning inward, listening to the voice of your intuition above all else. So to tie this whole reading together, the person I need to ask for help is myself. Not my outer self, who wants to Do All the Things and never get tired. But my inner self, who knows when I’m running out of steam and tells me to slow down. Who senses an oncoming pain flareup and tries to warn me to quit while I’m ahead. That little voice that Sleeping At Last is referencing when he sings that “from now on (he’ll) try to listen to intuition.”

(All right, all right, I get it, body. And tarot deck. Message received.) 

Of course there are a multitude of ways this spread could play out for you, and it’s possible you’ll look at a card or two (or the whole layout!) and say, “I have no idea what this is supposed to mean for me and my body.” I encourage you, though, to take a picture of the cards or jot them down in a notebook or on your phone. Even if they don’t feel connected to your current situation at all. There may be a moment weeks or months from now where they spontaneously click for you. (Or not! I’m a big believer in “take what works and leave the rest,” even where tarot readings are concerned!) 

If you give this reading a try, please let me know how it went in the comments! Especially if you have any cards that you absolutely can’t figure out–I’m happy to try and connect any dots I can! 

Tarot Spread: What Does My Body Need? Tiny Witchcraft

This episode is also available as a blog post: https://ruleestory.com/2022/11/06/tarot-spread-what-does-my-body-need/

On Magical Follow-Through (Witchy Book Review)

“You can think of intuition as your GPS to the material world,” write House of Intuition founders Alex Naranjo and Marlene Vargas in Your Intuition Led You Here. This sleek black book boasts dynamic graphics of tarot cards and beckoning hands wreathed in mist, and it promises to teach you to develop your intuition and start utilizing it to create your own spells. 

Image description: A copy of the book "Your Intuition Led You Here" by Alex Naranjo and Marlene Vargas. The book is on a purple cloth and has several post-it notes sticking out of it.

I tend to pass over traditional spellbooks, even ones that are up-to-date for the modern witch, because of how impossible the spells often feel for me. Between the lists of ingredients you’re expected to gather (or already have?) and the many steps in the casting, even spells that claim to be simple can be out of reach for me. For instance, a single step might be “combine moon water, lavender oil, and honey.” Okay, already this means I need to get out a bowl and a spoon, and they’ll need to be washed at the end of the spell, and oh wait do those need to be ritual items because if so I need to make sure to set them someplace where the moonlight can hit them the night before and I don’t really have a clear windowsill so I’ll need to spend a few minutes making space on a windowsill…etc, etc, etc. And that’s just for one step! 

Instead, I gravitate towards titles like this one–titles that offer a more simplified and intuition-led approach to spellcraft. I’ll admit, too, that I have a particular fondness for titles with “you/your” in them. Maybe because they automatically feel like books that will center me and my unique practice, and will feature less bloviating about the author’s New and Exciting discoveries. (That’s what my dad would call “I had an epiphany!” books.) On top of that appeal, I was already familiar with the authors’ brand. Though I’m not in the right part of the country to visit one of the physical storefronts, House of Intuition also has an online store that I’ve ordered candles from in the past. So with all those factors combined, picking up their book was a no-brainer for me. 

Now that I’ve read it, though, what’s the verdict: is this book spoonie-witch friendly? Are there useful insights or methods for those of us who need to modify spells for our physical and mental needs? Let’s discuss. 


One of my favorite things about Your Intuition Led You Here is the fact that its authors are both queer women. (Worth noting that while Alex Naranjo mentions that she identifies as trans and masculine-leaning, she uses she/her pronouns in the book, so that’s what I’m going with here.) They write about their relationship with tenderness and frankness, and it makes me wildly happy to see these badass business-owners and authors being open about this aspect of their identities. 

I also loved the “anatomy of a ritual” section. This gives you the basic containers that make up a typical ritual, such as creating sacred space and giving offerings, but what you fill those containers with is left entirely up to you. My version of creating sacred space might look like playing a special playlist and speaking some quick opening words, while yours might be walking the perimeter of your circle with a singing bowl. This is the kind of do-it-yourself witchcraft I’m drawn most to, or at least the kind of guide I appreciate the most. Starting with a totally blank page is tough, so I love when books give you a skeleton to begin with–a dress form of sorts that you can style however you choose. 

More than anything else, I appreciate that this book gives you a permission slip to let your intuition lead your witchcraft. So many books I’ve encountered seem to peddle a cookie-cutter type of spell or ritual, and when I don’t have the energy or time to carry out all the instructions, I’m left feeling like an inadequate witch. It’s profoundly refreshing to find a book that says, “No, you have all the magic you need within yourself, and your approach is just as valid as mine.”


On the other hand, once you get to the section of the book with suggested rituals and spells, I was right back to that “my magic isn’t enough” feeling. For all their talk about intuition as primary, their rituals still felt structured to a degree that wouldn’t allow for enough modification or improvisation for a disabled witch. While they call several of these rituals “intuition-led” and tout them as choose-your-own-adventure spellcraft, the extra customization options basically boil down to a few suggested oils, herbs, and/or crystals that you can use in concert or respectively, depending on your preference. It’s a fine idea, but it ultimately didn’t feel like a huge departure from traditional ritual/spell books. It just felt like a typical ritual with a few extra correspondences thrown in to taste. 

And related to that…I’m not sure the book completely knows what it wants to be. The first third or so of Your Intuition Led You Here reads like a memoir, with each of the authors describing their spiritual backgrounds, the life crises that led them to magic (and to each other), and the ups and downs of getting House of Intuition off the ground. They’re engaging writers, don’t get me wrong, so it’s an interesting read. But when I pick up a book like this I expect perhaps 10 pages or less of author introduction before diving into the magic guidebook. I don’t expect these introductions to take up a third of the book. And after that section, there’s a sizeable section that feels like it comes from the pages of a book for absolute beginner witches. Again, I have no problems with this in theory, but in practice it’s not why I picked up this particular book. The reason I picked up the book (rituals intended for customization and modification) doesn’t kick in until 2/3rds of the way in. And that’s a bit frustrating.


For me, one thing that helps is to frame my magic in the same way as a good friendship. My friends understand that I have disabilities. If we make plans and I need to cancel at the last minute because of a flareup, they understand. They’ll help me find an adjusted way of connecting, like via Zoom or discord, so we can enjoy each other’s company without me burning through spoons too much. Or we’ll simply raincheck for a different day when my body is being more cooperative. At the same time, I am respectful of their time and communicate clearly when I’m unwell, so I’m still dependable even when I need to rearrange plans. 

I try to approach my witchcraft in the same way. Sometimes I’ll need modifications, sometimes I’ll need to cancel altogether, but I do so with a commitment to find other ways or other times to practice. It’s a give and take, just like a good friendship. (This same approach also applies for any work you do with deities, ancestors, spirits, etc!) 

It also helps to manage your expectations from the get-go. Naranjo and Vargas even write that “expectations can be the death of intuition.” We know that we are disabled and neurodivergent witches. It makes much more sense for us to set small, achievable expectations for ourselves than it does to plan huge, elaborate rituals and then be disappointed when we aren’t able follow through. As much as I love the idea of an hours-long ritual, I know the odds are low that I’ll be up for such a long ritual. So I try to make small plans instead, like lighting a candle and spending five minutes sitting outside in contemplation. 

Finally, recently I’ve been experimenting with making a temporary offering if I need to postpone a spell or ritual. I’ll leave a piece of jewelry or a crystal on my altar almost as an IOU, a way of making my promise to finish the work tangible. Then, whenever I’m able to come back and follow through, I remove the offering and thank my deities or ancestors for their patience and understanding. If nothing else, it helps me feel more like the ritual is simply postponed rather than canceled. 


So can I recommend Your Intuition Led You Here for spoonie witches? I’d say yes, but with some major caveats attached. It’s definitely more geared toward witches who are just starting out, so if you’re several years into your practice I’m not sure there will be much new material for you. And I’d suggest viewing the book as a source of potential inspiration, not as a set of ironclad blueprints. There may be some of the rituals that would work well for you, and that’s great! But if you find yourself discouraged by the usual lists of ingredients and instructions, take a step back and remember the authors’ core thesis above all: your intuition is ultimately all you need to make magic. 

What do you find challenging about your spellcraft? And how do you follow through on your magic while still honoring your body and mind’s unique needs? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments!

On Magical Follow-Through (Witchy Book Review) Tiny Witchcraft

Samhain for the Spoonie

IT’S SPOOPY SEASON, WITCHLINGS! Which is to say besides all the costumes, candy, and horror movies, it is also nearly Samhain. It’s the Witchy New Year! And it’s also the time of year when the dead are said to be closest to the living world. (I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Day of the Dead being in this season as well, but since that is not my background I am not qualified to do a deep dive. If there are folks here who celebrate it, though, I’d love to hear how you incorporate your witchiness into this season in the comments!) 

In the interest of full disclosure: this is my first year really trying to mindfully acknowledge the sabbats of witchcraft. In previous years, I’ve felt too overwhelmed by the idea of putting together huge rituals to honor the days, so I’ve just let them pass by unnoticed. That’s why this year I’m working to invent spoonie-friendly ways to celebrate each sabbat, and sharing them with y’all as I go. I’m sure I’ll refine and adjust these methods of celebration over time–this can be a learning experience that we share! 

The most obvious elements of Samhain are connections with the dead, and I could fill many, many posts with ideas for how to honor ancestors and the departed. (I probably will fill a few posts with that.) But there’s another aspect of Samhain that I first considered thanks to one of my favorite witchy texts, Rebel Witch: Create the Craft that’s Yours Alone by Kelly-Ann Maddox. Samhain can be a time to sit with, confront, and/or diffuse our fears. 

Fear (or at least its cousin anxiety) is honestly a part of disabled and neurodivergent (ND) life that we take for granted. We have to think, rethink, and overthink many parts of our daily lives that able-bodied, neurotypical folks just…don’t. At least not on the same scale. Will I be able to order tickets for this show soon enough that I get dibs on one of the handful of wheelchair-accessible spaces in the audience? Will the cashier be offended that I’m not making eye contact while I order my latte? Will I feel up for my favorite cousin’s bachelorette party? So many activities, especially those that take place in public or with strangers, become a calculus problem. Will my needs be met? Will I be shamed for even having those needs? And on and on. 

So for this Samhain, I’m offering three low-spoon activities to help combat the fear we face and the ableism we have to worry about. The first is sigil magic to protect from those nagging thoughts, the internalized ableism that makes us question if we deserve accommodations and flexibility. The second is a quick spell to enchant an object that you associate with your disability or neurodivergence, to help ward you against ableism in your immediate vicinity (from family members, coworkers, that kind of thing). And the final activity is a modified meditation to send crip love and mad joy into the world, a medicine against ableism at the societal level. 

Let’s dive in, shall we? 


The first ableist we have to muffle is the one in our own heads, right? I can’t tell you how many people I’ve met in my fibromyalgia community who want to get a cane, rollator, walker, or wheelchair, but worry that they don’t need it enough, that they’re overexaggerating, that they probably just need to exercise more or push themselves harder, etc. etc. etc. It took me AGES to talk myself into getting a cane, and then ages longer to get a rollator for more standing-intensive activities. (And I still have to talk myself into taking the rollator, EVERY TIME!) I have ND friends who have waited for years to seek diagnosis (not that diagnosis is the right call for everyone, to be clear) or medication or any sort of support because they don’t feel ND enough. 

Asking for what you need can be hard enough for an abled, neurotypical person. When you have access needs, you have to ask over. And over. And OVER. And it can start to feel like you’re asking for too much. Or that maybe you aren’t worth all this effort.

But you are. You deserve ease and accessibility and the ability to participate without feeling like you’re Extra Effort to Deal With. So that’s what this sigil signifies: that you are worth accommodating. Whatever accommodations you need, you deserve them. Whatever help you require, you are worthy of it. Ten times over. 

Image description: A sigil made up of a series of angular lines which create two triangles, each of which has a small circle in its center. The parallel lines end in two attached circles.

I am worth accommodating.

You can draw this sigil on yourself somewhere using washable ink. If you’re self-conscious, put it someplace easily hideable, like your shoulder or ankle.

Alternatively, put it somewhere in your space you see frequently so it can serve as a reminder. I’m especially partial to drawing sigils on my bathroom mirror with dry erase markers. Get creative! Hang it inside your closet so you’ll see it when you get dressed in the morning. Put it under your keyboard at work and peek at it when you need fortification. And of course, feel free to modify it if you find you want to add/subtract/adjust the design so it vibes better for you–or even create your own sigil from scratch! Here’s a video with several examples of how to design sigils for yourself.


Maybe you have a parent who scoffs when you struggle to get out of bed. Maybe you have an aunt who stolidly refuses to learn ASL to communicate with you. Maybe your workplace penalizes you when you need to take extra sick days for flareups. Ableism can take so many forms in our day-to-day lives, it’s impossible to prepare for every situation in which it might rear its ugly head. But what we can do is enchant something we use for self-care to repel some of that ableist energy, or at least to cleanse it more quickly and painlessly when we’re exposed to it. 

Think of an object that you associate with your disability or neurodivergence, something that you use to make your life a bit easier, mitigate a symptom, or tend to your needs. This could be a mobility aid, a fidget toy, a self-soothing item like a weighted blanket, or even something like a favorite fuzzy sweater that makes you feel cozy and comfortable. The only stipulation I’d make is to avoid choosing something that you’ll use up, like a lotion or a food item. While you absolutely can repeat this spell anytime you want to recharge it, you don’t want to have to repeat the spell every time you need a new bottle of lotion. 

Besides the object itself, here are a few other things you may want to gather:

  • Something to take notes with, e.g. a notebook and pen or a computer/tablet/phone
  • If you want to add music to the spell, something to play music with and any speakers or headphones that might be necessary
  • To add extra oomph, you can gather a few other objects that you use for self-care or accommodations 

To begin, create sacred space in whatever way feels good and achievable for you today. Some options include: put on a playlist that makes you feel spiritual or empowered, meditate for a minute or two, move around the perimeter of your work area, call on a deity or spirit to partner with you as you work, or just say something to the effect of, “This space holds my intention.”

Lay out the objects that you gathered, with the object you plan to enchant at the center (either in front of you on the ground/table, or in your lap). 

Now, using the writing implements (or just in your own mind, if you have a better memory than I do), you’re going to create a mantra or affirmation to infuse your object with. This should be something you’d like to tell the people in your life who are likely to be ableist, or something that could reassure you after an ableist encounter. Here are a few possibilities you could use as is or as inspiration: 

  • “My access needs are not a burden.”
  • “I am worthy as I am.”
  • “You don’t know my bodymind; you can’t tell me what I’m feeling.”
  • “Love means honoring my accommodations.” 

Once you’re happy with your mantra, pick up the object or place your hands on it, and begin to imagine your object as something extra powerful. A cane could become a sword or staff. A fidget toy could become a high-tech gadget from your favorite sci-fi movie. A blanket or article of clothing could become a magic-boosting cloak. You get the picture! If you’re able to visualize, all the better, but it works just as well if you simply think about what you’d transform your object into–no visual component required.  

After a moment or two of holding your object’s more powerful persona in mind, begin to repeat the mantra you created. You could say it to yourself, speak it aloud, sign it, write it down over and over–whatever works best for you. And as you repeat, imagine the extra-powerful version of your object sinking into the item’s surface, infusing it with magic and intention. Keep repeating and imagining as long as you need to feel that the enchantment has taken root. I find that at least ten repetitions is a good baseline, but definitely take your cues from your intuition here! 

Once you’re satisfied, release your sacred space however you please–turn off any music, thank any deities or spirits you invoked for their presence, say “so may it be,” etc. If it feels appropriate, you can also thank your object for its ongoing service. And viola, you now have an object that will help protect you against any ableism in your immediate surroundings, or that will help you heal and fortify yourself afterwards! 


At the Unitarian Universalist church I frequent, there’s a moment in every service where we are asked to put our hands over our hearts and say to ourselves, “I will love myself. I will love others. And that love can help heal the world.” It always puts me in mind of tonglen meditation, a form of Tibetan Buddhist meditation in which you breathe in the darkness, pain, and sadness from the world, and you breathe out light, comfort, and ease. In many variations, you begin by doing this for your own pain and sadness, and then you continue to expand your focus outward, from loved ones to strangers to enemies to even the entire world. Or sometimes you simply keep one particular person who’s struggling in mind (not unlike prayer, actually). 

This meditation is heavily inspired by tonglen, but you’re going to specifically target the ableism that pervades the world we live in. 

Get yourself into a comfortable position, and if it helps you focus, close your eyes. I like to put my hands over my heart, but it’s absolutely not necessary. If you can, place your focus on your breath as it moves in and out of your body. If focusing on breathing is uncomfortable or not possible for you, you could put on some soothing instrumental music and place your focus there, or even hold a fidget or something else small and focus on that. 

Begin to imagine the ways that ableism manifests in the world around you. Prohibitively expensive healthcare, for example. Dismissive doctors who label you ask drug-seeking when you’re just asking for help managing the intense pain. Airplanes constantly breaking or losing passengers’ wheelchairs. Etc. What are some ways that you’ve encountered societal ableism? Imagine them as vividly as you can. Imagine how it felt/would feel. Draw in all that negativity, all that bigotry, all that unkindness. (You can match this to an in-breath, if that works for you. If not, just imagine pulling it in for about 10 seconds or so.) Then, send out positivity, understanding, and kindness towards disabled/ND folks. (Again, this can be on an out breath, or for a count of about 10.)

Continue this rhythmic cycle for awhile–drawing in the harm and pain of ableism, sending out understanding and love. Once you feel ready to finish, do something to signify that you’re releasing all the bad energy you took on board. I like to shake out my hands as if I’m flicking off all the energy buildup, but you could say aloud, “I release this energy; it can no longer harm anyone,” or do a stretch or a bow, etc. This meditation is of course (unfortunately) not going to stop ableism in its tracks. But it does arm you with a small activity for when the world feels too fundamentally unfair to abled/neurotypical folks. 


There are, of course, many other aspects to Samhain that you could adapt to work for your body and brain. I offer these three activities as a starting place–small, bite-size, and attainable. How do you celebrate Samhain? Do you have ways of adjusting your celebrations to be more spoonie-friendly? What challenges have you encountered? I’d love to hear in the comments! 

Samhain for the Spoonie Tiny Witchcraft

This episode is also available as a blog post: http://ruleestory.com/2022/10/25/samhain-for-the-spoonie-2/

Coffee/Tea Intention Spell

Part of what I mean when I say “tiny witchcraft” is the act of infusing everyday, seemingly-small activities with magic and purpose. As disabled and neurodivergent (ND) witches, we often struggle with our day-to-day taskload as it is. Our magical practice should be something we draw energy from, not something that drains us even more. So rather than trying to fit giant, elaborate rituals into our spoon budget, why not find ways to ritualize what we’re already doing?

That’s what I love about this tea/coffee intention spell. Many of us already start the day off with an invigorating beverage of some sort. Whether it’s hot or iced, tea or coffee, black or full of sugar and cream, this tiny spell takes what we’re already doing and adds a sprinkle of magic to it.


The only supplies you’ll absolutely need are your drink fixings of choice. These could include:

  • Coffee beans or grounds
  • Tea (bags or loose leaf)
  • Coffee machine or kettle
  • Milk or creamer
  • Sugar or honey

And of course, you’ll need a spoon for stirring, and a mug or thermos to hold your beverage in.

If you’re so inclined, you can add a bit more ceremony to it. For instance, you could designate a special mug or thermos for this morning ritual. This could be as involved as ordering a new mug/thermos and consecrating it under moonlight. (If you go this route, I suggest consecrating under a New Moon, for the magic of new beginnings and intention-setting). You could even do this consecration monthly, if you want to get really fancy! Or it could be as simple as setting aside a mug/thermos you already have and only using it for your magical morning brew from now on.

You could do the same thing by choosing a certain type or flavor of coffee or tea, setting it aside and reserving it for your first cup in the morning. But again, these are all bonus frills and they’re not at all mandatory! All you really need is a vessel, a beverage, and yourself.

Before you begin, set yourself up with whatever you need for maximum focus. For some folks, this could mean perfect silence and solitude. But that may not work well for you–I concentrate much better with some quiet instrumental music on in the background, for instance. Or silence and solitude might not even be feasible, if you live with others or if you need assistance to make your morning drink. So if you need music or ambient noise, turn that on! If you have roommates or companions, clue them into what you’re up to–maybe they’d like to be part of the ritual! But even if they don’t want to participate, you can make them aware that you’re doing something that requires your attention for a few minutes.


First of all, take a moment to create sacred space for yourself. There’s any number of ways to do this. If you work with deities or spirits, you might offer them a greeting, an invitation to participate, or just a silent word of thanks. If you feel connected to the magic of the elements, you might welcome their energy into the alchemy that you are about to create. Or you might simply say a few words of opening (aloud or to yourself), such as, “Blessings on this moment and this place, where I set my intention for the day ahead.”

Start up your coffee machine, your tea kettle, or whatever you’re using to make your beverage today. As your drink brews, steeps, warms, etc., take a moment to decide what, exactly, your intention for today is. This could be a tangible goal you set for the day, something you know you want to work on or get done.

For example:

  • I’m going to do 10 minutes of stretching today.
  • I want to respond to at least three emails.
  • Today I’d like to call my grandfather to catch up with him.

Your intention could also be something more abstract, like a feeling you want to invite into your day or a manner of communication you want to foster.

An intention like this might be:

  • Let me treat myself with kindness.
  • I will bring compassion into my conversations today.
  • I hope to be gentle with myself and others.

If I feel up to it, I like to try a soft meditation while I’m waiting for my tea to steep. Sometimes I focus on my intention. Other times I’ll choose a mantra or short prayer to repeat to myself. Recently I’ve been using a mantra I borrowed and adjusted from Monk and Robot, a series by my favorite author Becky Chambers. I’ve changed the deity’s name–in the book the god is Allalae, the god of small comforts. But that feels close enough to my own patron goddess Hestia, deity of the home and hearth, that subbing in her name for his just clicks. Plus it’s a really satisfying loop to repeat to yourself: “Hestia holds, Hestia warms, Hestia soothes and Hestia charms.”

If meditation or sustained focus don’t feel doable, though, use this steeping/brewing time to do something small to begin your morning. I don’t mean mindlessly scrolling through social media (though I am absolutely guilty of that, and will be again). I mean doing a stretch or two to wake up your body, or sending a text message to a loved one to say good morning, or even just popping outside for a moment to breathe in the fresh air. The activity you choose could be anything, just make sure you do it purposefully and with intention.

And speaking of intention, once your tea or coffee is ready, take a moment to focus on the intention you chose for your day. You may speak it out loud if you like, or simply hold it in your mind. Imagine that you are infusing your beverage with the goals and ideas you have for the day ahead. By drinking this magically-infused brew, you infuse yourself with the magic you’ve created.

You may remain in this sacred space for as long as you like. If I have a lot of time and focus, I’ll try to leave my phone off to one side and focus on the music I’m listening to as I drink. Often, though, this is too much to ask for my brain. So whenever I’m ready, I’ll say a quick thank you to Hestia to seal the spell. You can end with “blessed be,” or “so mote it be” if you want to be fancy. Or you can even just close the spell by letting go of the thread of focus and letting yourself move on to whatever’s next.

It may seem like a very low-key spell, all told, but that’s the point. I’d love to be the kind of person who could do a sun salutation yoga session and a full meditation every morning, and occasionally I am…but I’m usually not. What I am is someone who has tea every morning unless I am DEEP in the flareup trenches. So by attaching a bit of ritual to something I already do, I get a spiritual start to my morning, without adding much extra work to the process.

I hope that this tiny spell provides the same small spiritual start for you! I’d love to hear how it felt for you, or if you added any other accommodations that made it work better.

Blessed be!

Coffee/Tea Intention Spell Tiny Witchcraft

This episode is also available as a blog post: http://ruleestory.com/2022/10/20/coffee-tea-intention-spell/