How (and when) to change your witchcraft path

I can confidently say that my journey through witchcraft has not been a linear path.

(Name me a witch whose road has been a conventional one!)

But, something I have always done – throughout my 23 years of practising witchcraft – is try to put a name to where my focus lies. Putting a clear label on my craft has not limited me at all; it’s actually created a real sense of belonging in certain niches of the witchcraft community.

Green witch. Hedge witch. Kitchen witch. Sea witch. Ancestral witch. Psychic witch.

You may have chosen one of the above names for yourself, feeling into its corners and finding yourself comfy and at home with this label. If you’re a hedge witch, perhaps you feel most at home walking the liminal paths – tending to ancestors, spirits and the unseen edges of your garden at dusk. Or if you’re a psychic witch, maybe you find the most excitement while standing on the edge of a crowd and feeling into the energy of the room, picking up on its subtle shifts and changes.

As you may have guessed by the name of this Substack, I call myself a green witch, and I explore how I came to this name below. But I have not always been a green witch and I – perhaps – will not always be one.

blue and white floral decor — Photo by Ksenia Yakovleva on Unsplash

One thing I’ve realised over the years is that as the seasons of our lives shift, so does our witchcraft practice. We are not the same person we were at 15 (thank goodness), nor will we remain our current selves for the next 20 years.

In this post, I want to explore why witchcraft is not a brand that we have to subscribe to for life- it’s a living and ever-shifting practice that grows and sometimes takes sharp corners, just as we do in life. Here, I share how to explore other aspects of the craft to grow your knowledge, and how to let go of past versions of witchy you with gratitude.

I hope you enjoy!

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Join me at an upcoming event

But before we get into things, my new book Underwing is out on 12th March! See you at one of my witchy book events over the next few weeks.

Underwing: Book launch – Wednesday 11th March, B For Butterfly Books, South Manchester.

Underwing: How to Celebrate the Spring Equinox – Thursday 19th March, online. This is a special pre-order event: pre-order your copy of Underwing before 12th March and email your proof of purchase to amie@septemberpublishing.org to receive your exclusive invite!

Underwing: In Conversation – Saturday 11th April, Blackwell’s Oxford, Broad Street, Oxford.

Beltane: Sabbat Sessions – Saturday 25th April, Blackwell’s Oxford, Broad Street, Oxford.

Pre-order your copy here

My own witchcraft journey

I began my witchcraft journey at age 12 in my Liverpool box bedroom.

When I first started tinkering with crystals and rhyming couplets in my room late into the evening, Wicca was an incredibly popular path. This was the early noughties and witchcraft was marketed to tweenage girls as it was a new mascara: quirky, fun and a way to look mysterious. But this isn’t what drew me in.

At this point in my life, I already felt like quite the misfit and was an incredibly serious child, cultivating a love of history, ancient mythology and the paranormal. Finding a path that spoke to the part of me that felt “different” and wanted to connect with a deeper meaning in the world was so healing at that time. Wicca became my solace and I particularly loved the idea that women were equal (if not higher ranking) than men in this path, after so many years of a solidly Christian upbringing.

After a period of heavy rock music and piercing my own ears with a sewing needle, I returned to witchcraft in my early-mid twenties, and found myself gravitating to all sorts of different areas of the craft. I was keen to try everything and anything I could to find my path. I knew I loved ritual work and the solace of deep meditation, whether with others or solo: so, I dabbled in astral projection, traditional witchcraft, druidry and some intense ritual work, sorting through an eclectic mix to find what spoke to me.

By the time I reached my late twenties and early thirties, witchcraft was having a boom. Crystals became commonplace in high-street stores. Witchcraft shows were back in the mainstream. And every yoga class now came with a side of oracle cards. Witchcraft might have been having the time of its life, but I most certainly was not. In 2018, my mental health took a drop-kick as I began working in a toxic work environment. I’d go into the specifics, but all you need to know is that the CEO of that company is now serving 15 years for sexual assault. Which, as you can imagine, creates an interesting work environment. (That was a part I missed out of my first book, wasn’t it?)

It was at this time that I began to rely heavily on my witchcraft practice as a source of comfort and calm. I was drawn to the green witchcraft path, creating tinctures and teas that helped to balance and regulate my mental health and the general insanity of my life at that point in time. I took several months out of the working world to recalibrate my mind and, during that time, I fell in love with the Wheel of the Year, folklore, and growing herbs that I would use in my witchcraft practice.

Hence, my book – The Wheel: A Witch’s Path to Healing Through Nature – was born, and I established myself as a green witch.

But right now, a few years on, I find myself at a crossroads.

Lately, my craft has become much more about celebrating the seasons and communing with the natural world through shamanic trancework to find deeper connection between all living things. I have explored the natural world and examined our place as folk healers (as well as humans) within it through my writing and through my hikes into far-flung corners of Britain. When I am out in the wild, my mind is constantly on the underground network of mycelium that connects the woods and gives the world a glowing form of consciousness, as well as the ley lines and energy pathways that can channel healing into a sore and ragged land.

Is there a name for this particular brand of Paganism? Perhaps animist? Eco-Pagan? Or Wild Lady Attaching Herself To Chain Link Fences? I have not quite reached a conclusion yet. But I am excited to be exploring this new area of the craft, while still growing herbs, making tinctures and honouring my green witch practice daily.

Mostly.

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How to explore new areas of witchcraft

The subtitle to this section should be “without feeling guilty”.

When we’ve been practising one area of the craft for so long, we can feel so loyal to it. You’ve gathered all the books, the tools, and the omnipresent hoard of empty jam jars. So beginning to change your witchcraft identity can feel like you’re letting yourself and your inner witch down.

It’s a bit uncomfy.

Personally, I am currently in a season of my life with a huge environmental focus. I have worked in environmental communications since 2017 and have seen the world’s focus slipping further away from conversation into consumerism. I felt so disheartened for a long time, and sent my mind elsewhere. But my passion for future-proofing our environment has been renewed, and that has flowed into my magick practice.

This feels like a whole new area for me with its own (confusing) terminology. It feels a bit like I’m starting again, with a brand-new set of books, teachings and tools to look into.

It’s certainly different, but I’m very aware of how my path has changed and adapted to my interests over the years, so I’m not frightened that this shift is a negative one. It definitely feels positive to me!

But you might be battling some feelings of uncertainty right now. I’m here to say: through knowing how to tap into meditation and your connection with Spirit, you can ask all the questions you need to find out which path you need to follow.

Here’s my advice to embracing a change in your witchcraft path:

1. Notice the spiritual nudge

I’ve found that the shift into a new area of witchcraft often begins quietly.

You may hear about a topic dropped into conversation that sparks your interest, but you forget to look it up at the time, only for it to be mentioned again two weeks later, completely out of the blue. This happened for me with shamanism. The word kept coming up and coming up until I began to feel this real tug in my chest to research it and go to a gathering to see what it was all about (I’m so glad I did!).

Ask yourself what the universe is guiding you towards right now. Where are you being led? Try not to fight this, and let your natural curiosity take over.

2. Follow energy, not aesthetics

One of my biggest pet peeves is when people try to pair their practice with their own sense of style! Just because you’ve redecorated your bathroom with ocean waves doesn’t mean you’re being called with a conch to the magick of the sea… The same goes for dressing “like a witch” and thinking you’ve done the inner work it takes to become one.

Instead, you can delve deeper. If your current practice isn’t sitting right with you and you feel you’ve learned all you can on this particular vein, sink into meditation in front of your altar and ask yourself:

“What practices make me feel calmer?”
“What topics make me lose track of time when I research them?”
“What makes me feel a spark of recognition in my chest, as if I’ve had this knowledge all along?”

Write your answers down and see a new path spooling in your mind’s eye.

3. Try on new practices without renouncing the old

You do not need a dramatic renunciation ritual every time you become curious about something new. But you can absolutely experiment.

If you have always been plant-focused but feel drawn to divination, try pulling a card once a week. If you have worked devotionally with one deity but feel called to ancestor work, light a candle and begin a conversation with your passed loved ones.

Think of this as widening your circle of interest rather than tearing it down, layering new topics onto your practice to enhance the old.

4. Accept the fallow and unmagickal periods

Sometimes, in busy periods of my life, I can go months without performing a ritual or noticing the signs on my daily walks. Am I proud of it? Not particularly! Does it happen semi-regularly? Absolutely. That’s just life, and sometimes the daily routine of it all saps your brain space.

You may go for long stretches without feeling “witchy”, and that is absolutely OK. It doesn’t mean you’ve fallen out of love with your craft and need to go in search of a completely new path to get you going again.

In these instances, I would suggest going back to basics, like stirring intentions into your tea or cleansing your favourite crystals in the moonlight, but also going back to your roots. What brought you to witchcraft in the first place? Which aspects make you feel cosy and warm, or powerful and strong? This isn’t necessarily a time for starting something new, but more about falling in love with the practicalities of your craft again.

5. What does your current life stage need for success?

Are you in a season of motherhood, grief, career-building, healing or activism? Your craft should support your life – not become another pressure layered on top of it. If you feel like certain areas of your practice aren’t serving you, it could be time to tune into your needs via meditation and ask yourself where your energies should lie:

If you are exhausted, perhaps your practice needs to be simpler and more devotional.
If you are grieving, perhaps you are being called towards ancestor work or shadow work.
If you are energised and curious, perhaps this is the moment to study something entirely new.

We really can mould our witchcraft practice to shape who we are becoming.

Once you’ve become comfortable with the shape your path is taking, you can go one step further and send out gratitude to your old path and all it taught you in the form of a ritual.

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A gratitude ritual to thank all you’ve learned

You’ll need:

a white candle
matches
a small bowl of water mixed with sea salt
a bundle of dried rosemary
your journal and a pen

This ritual is to be performed on the full moon – maybe you want to perform yours this coming Tuesday!

a piece of wood sitting on top of a wooden table — Photo by Calvin Chai on Unsplash

Sit quietly in front of your altar or a cleansed space in your home. Centre yourself for slow, deep breathing.
Place the bowl of water in front of you and light the candle behind it.
Hold the rosemary in your hands. Rosemary symbolises remembrance, so this bundle represents the knowledge you have gained and will keep in your memory as part of your previous witchcraft path. Say the following verse, but you can amend parts of this so that it reflects your direct experience. e.g. If you didn’t work with spellcraft, switch this out to your primary focus:

“I send gratitude to the witch I have been.
I give thanks to what I have learned.
Blessed are the spells that worked and the ones that did not.
I honour the version of me who needed this path.”

Place the rosemary in the water, symbolising this path gently floating away from you, creating space for something new. Say:

“If this chapter is complete, I release it with love.
If parts of it remain, may they root deeply within me.
This path brought me to where I need to be.”

Allow the rosemary to float for as long as you meditate before it. Think clearly about thanking all the specific things you’ve learned and remember how they have helped you. Think about the new path you are about to embark on, and you may want to state what kind of witch you are going to become. Although you could still be figuring this out.
Afterwards, bury the rosemary in the earth to symbolise putting the past to bed with more gratitude, then journal about anything that came up for you during the ritual.

Which new areas of witchcraft are you planning to focus on this spring? Let me know your plans in the comments below!