Witches, Jars, and Burying ‘Em

[Witches, Jars, and Burying ‘Em tumblr repost June 4th, 11pm]

I can’t be the only one that sees how many witch jar spells tell you to bury said jar in the ground and winces. Why? Because reasons, that’s why.

Don’t roll your eyes. Read on.

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Here’s a few reasons why burying all the witch jars you make can be a pain in the ass:

  1. It can break. Broken glass can eventually make its way to the surface and that barbeque you’re having can turn into a trip to the hospital. This is especially dangerous if the glass was coated with or holding poisons, rust, metal, or other harmful materials.
  2. Finding the jar again. Let’s say you want to undo a spell. Or you just need to find the damn jar after you buried it. If you didn’t mark it, you’re going to be playing the guessing game on locating it in the earth.
  3. Too many jars makes for a full garden. Think about it. Bury six jars in small space then try to plant a garden over it. You can do it, absolutely, but that’s a lot of earth being taken up for a spell.
  4. You’re burying a perfectly good glass jar. I hate using glass jars for spells. I prefer to use and reuse glass jars until I can’t any more. By can’t I mean they shatter, are given away, hold poisons, or contain a smell that can’t be dispersed.
  5. It isn’t your land. (Maybe) You’re renting? Live in an apartment? On campus? Maybe you shouldn’t be burying shit in places you don’t own a deed to.
  6. Someone else could dig it up and find it. And how much would your plan suck then?
  7. Glass doesn’t decompose. Technically called devitrification (if I remember correctly) only some glass actually “breaks down”. In this process, the glass crystallizes as typically seen in art glass, crazing, warping, etc will occur before the glass actually becomes so fragile it will break. This occurs over long periods of time. Some types of glass can be broken down with chemicals such as hydrofluoric acid. But most glass we use, such as silicates, don’t break down naturally.

So what the hell am I bringing this up for and what am I suggesting otherwise? Because I find a lot of people are bottling things up and shoving things in jars as a matter of course. It’s just what you do. And, that might be personal practice and belief coming into play but it’s not necessary. Easy and convenient but not necessary most of the time (from what I can see).

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Ask yourself this when gathering ingredients for a spell:

  1. Does it need to be buried? Does it really? Are you sure? There isn’t some other way to solve the problem?
  2. Is this a short term spell? Maybe burying it in a potted plant is better.
  3. Does it need to be liquid? You can soak herbs in vinegar, hot sauce, protection oils, water, etc. without needing to fill a jar. It might even be easier to soak said herbs then leave them for the spell’s target to stumble upon. Hell, you could even spritz some vinegar/water/oil/etc on it and it would probably work (depending on your paradigm and all that).
  4. Does the spell need to be contained? Sometimes spells don’t need to be contained. Sometimes you need them to leech into the soil, earth, and world. If it doesn’t need to be contained, perhaps you should try putting it in a paper bag or a “biodegradable” bottle (most of these aren’t fully biodegradable and don’t do it in five years as advertised so keep that in mind) Jars contain things. Why would you put something in a jar if you want it to get out?
  5. Is it a funeral? A lot of the time I see “bury this” spells is because you’re suppose to be given it a funeral. If you aren’t doing that, then you may want to rethink burying it.
  6. Is it a secret? I don’t bury my protection witch jars. Instead, I hang them up. I put them on display. I let the world know this place is protected. Besides, it also serves as decoration. (Obviously, if you’re in the closet or the spell has a secret purpose, this isn’t an option).
  7. Will some other container make do? I paper bag half my “bury this” spells. Especially if they don’t contain liquid. And the ones that do sometimes don’t need that much liquid. Instead of shaking the jar, I’ll shake and squish the bag instead.
  8. Can you reuse the jar? One your spell has gone off, are you willing to dig up the jar and use it again? I’m not talking about the ingredients. I would bury the organics and bring the inorganics to a recycling station or dump. I’m talking about the jar itself. This comes down to personal belief and practice. I go either way on it personally but to each their own.
  9. Does it need to be sealed? Many witches seal their jars in wax. Why not make a container of wax instead?  Or seal a paper bag or whatever. It’s still sealed and yet you’re not burying glass.
  10. Does it actually need a jar? Many jar spells don’t need to be jar spells. It’s for convenience. You can pour hot sauce or vinegar over paper to curse someone. You don’t always need to stick it in a jar.

I’m not talking about just curses. This applies to ALL spells. And sure, I still make spell jars. It’s easy to make a jar. It’s harder to deal with a spell when it’s messy and everywhere. And I’m not saying everyone should suddenly not use jars. But I hope this little spiel has given at least one person a second’s pause before they reach for that glass jar and consider an alternative.

In the end, this is going to come down to personal practice, personal belief, and convenience. Do what you do and I’ll do what I do.

How My Youngest Brother Learned I’m A Witch

[A repost from tumblr: How My Youngest Brother Learned I’m A Witch. Early May, 2013]

Today I went over to see my father the Warlord and returned some of the books I borrowed. He decided he needed to feed me and served up some lasagna while I visited. As he’s setting up to make dinner (which I wouldn’t be around for) he asks me what the rest of my plans for the day were.

“I’ve a shit-ton of asks to answer on my blog.”

“Asks?”

I shifted how my head laid on my upturned hand. “Yeah. People send me asks about things. Witchy things usually but all sorts of shit sometimes.”

“Like what?”

I tap open the tumblr app and summarize a few public ones. We get to talking a bit about one of them before he turns from cutting potatoes and said, “There’s a lot of spirit ones there.”

“Well, yeah. It’s something I specialize in, I suppose.”

“Have you ever tried talking to your great grandmother?”

I shake my head without moving it from my hand. “I don’t tend to work with ghosts. Non-human spirits. I already don’t like people. Why would I hang out with dead ones?”

He turned and points the knife at me. I don’t bother to take offense. We tend to direct each other with pointy objects on a daily basis. “Your great grandmother’s a ghost. Your great grandfather said that if anyone would come back, it would be her. She haunted the [house both he and I grew up in]. Your uncle and aunt saw her too. She’d come out from the door as if there was still a wall there, go around the table, and come down the hallway to stare into the kid’s rooms.”

I only nod. I’ve heard this story before many times. “I remember you telling the story. I saw her too. Or, well, I saw something. It was when I was in that front bedroom. I saw something huge – taller than you Dad – and white block out the light in front of that door. You know how that light always emitted a yellow color right? Whatever it was was brighter than that.”

“It couldn’t have been your great grandmother. She was a tiny thing. Smaller than you. Could have been my grandfather though.”

“Ah. Well, I don’t know what it was, but it block out the light. I was so surprised I just pulled the sheets up over my head.” I laugh. I remember being no more than eight when the sighting took place and being more startled than scared. It was always something I believed had happened and could never disprove. I never bothered telling anyone about it usually. It was a ghost. It happened. I saw it. End of story.

B.A.D, my little five year old brother comes in, holding a worn, dilapidated checkers box. “You saw a ghost?”

“Yes. At least I think it was a ghost.”

“Oh. You should ask brother. He’ll be able to tell you whether or not it’s still there.”

I hide it well but I’m surprised as fuck and impressed. Yes, my brother the Necromancer could very well tell whether or not the rumored ghosts are still there. I could too, if I bothered to. However, no one in the family owns the house any longer and thus there was no point. But how the fuck did a five year old know about my brother? He rarely ever speaks of it. I don’t even think my father knows about my brother’s abilities.

B.A.D however continuous as if he didn’t just drop a fucking bomb of information on me. “I’m not afraid of ghosts!”

I laughed. “You’re afraid of dogs, bees, and wary of girls but not of ghosts?” (When the Redhead disowned herself it caused emotional trauma for my youngest brother, already there from my step mother’s less-than-stellar parenting. The boy just didn’t understand that not all of his sisters or girls will abandon him.)

“Nope!” He said quite loudly, proud of himself. He flashes a smile. “I see them all the time.”

I’m not sure whether he meant on the TV or in real life. Either way, it doesn’t matter. He babbles on for a few more minutes and has me laughing.

“How about witches?” I ask him. I keep my smile easy, not teasing but friendly. While the question seems innocent, I don’t want to scare him off.

He blinks slowly, processing the question and for a moment I worry he didn’t hear me. He has hearing issues sometimes and I am about to voice the question again when he shakes his head. “No, I’m not afraid of witches.”

“Oh good. Because I’m a witch.”

I watch his eyes grow fearful for a moment then doubtful. I know I don’t look like any witch shown on Scooby-Doo.

I continue, “I really am. It’s my job. It’s what I do.”

My father comes around to the table and readies the chicken and rice for my brother’s dinner. He doesn’t look at me but instead makes eye contact with my brother. “She is.” He confirms.

That’s enough for my brother. He thinks on it for a few more moments before nodding, “I’m not scared of you either.”

I smile. “Good. I’m nothing to be scared of.”