Sea Witchcraft, Ocean Witchcraft and Beach Magick is the most beautiful, at times simplistic, but ultimately the most powerful magick and ritual I have ever practiced. 1,072 more words
I have been lucky enough to live near the ocean for the last almost 12 years-- as long as I have been practicing as a pagan and a witch-- but I have only practiced Sea Witchcraft actively for perhaps the last 4 years about I think. I love living near the sea, I cannot imagine living much farther from it which has made things quite difficult since we're trying to find land and move from this place. I definitely agree that ultimately, though tools and herbs and candles are lovely-- and useful!-- you should be able to practice magic with nothing but your Will and your Breath, and the things you find around you. (Of course it is definitely polite to give offerings when you're working out in nature!) I love writing runes or spells in the sand, or whispering things into shells and sending them on their way with the waves. This is something I have actually got my toddling son to do-- whisper into shells and send our wishes to the mermaids. He doesn't really say anything into the shells (he pretends to whisper) but he loves the idea of the whole thing. And she's right: the Ocean Mother and the spirits there and at the shore and in the storm off the sea-- they are Primal (read: really f*cking old) and made of darker things than most of us have (or care to) encounter. I don't always, but often when I go to the shore I call on Yemaya. We have had a working relationship that sways like the tides over the last few years. And most associate Her as a very 'light' and loving diety. Which She can be. But She is also destruction-- tidal wave and storm, and Her acts of protection can come on violent and primal like Kali. Hell, one of Her Aspects is Pirate Queen ruler of the predators of the sea. And I too have heard the Siren's call... I work sometimes in the realms of the Sea Folk, I feel very strongly even that one of their lines is in my blood-- and one Full Moon night I was down on the shore, walking along and singing. And then the air shifted, and I could hear another song, singing out from in my bones rather than audible on the air. And my eyes drooped and I felt the tug. I felt the incredible melancholic longing, the dire urge to step into the waves-- and keep going. I have never been one to swim in the ocean at night. I know we have sharks in the shallows in the day time, so I *know* they are there at night. But I felt this wrenching in my heart, this pull at my ankles, to just keep walking and put my head under the surface and swim and never return. I fought the pull, and kept to the shallows, and forced myself to walk parallel to the beach instead of out into the water. But it was the most intense draw I have ever had-- and I have had instances before where I had this melancholic yearning to join the sea, like it was where I belonged. But unfortunately, this selkie lady has not a seal skin to take her past the breakers and into ocean depths unfathomable.