So here it is. A big one! 2019.

New Year’s Day –to– Imbolc

The changing of the calendar year was a hugely transformative time for me. During winter, and after the holidays, I felt myself turning inward in a very much needed way. I experienced a sort of emotional hibernation. And it was during this period, leading up to Imbolc, that I made a series of significant lifestyle changes.

As it turns out, these changes would drastically alter the way that I experience my reality.

♥ I started going to bed at least an hour, sometimes 2 hours, earlier than I had before. I was in bed by 9:30, lights out by 10-10:30.
♥ I was no longer watching TV habitually every night. Now, I mostly just watch TV only on the weekends.
♥ I started waking up half an hour (or more) earlier than I had before. Instead of waking up and jumping into the day and the flurry of getting ready for work/school, now I creep out on my own to the living room and start my day either reading quietly with my coffee, or stretching and exercising. This quiet wakeup time has totally transformed how my days unfold.
♥ I began drinking a quart of water every morning before leaving for work. Starting off strong.
♥ And finally, I began deepening my spiritual practice. I became intentional around honoring moon phases, taking ritual baths, reading and learning the craft, and doing spellwork.

This was a real, true “reset” in my life. By the time Imbolc was coming around I felt like I had had a rebirth.

2019 was off and running.

Imbolc –to– Ostara

The world wakes up . . . but me, not quite yet. 2019 was definitely the year of false starts, and in this twilight period between winter and spring, I was certainly feeling them. Awakening and obscuring, awakening and obscuring, awakening and obscuring. My path had been set before me, but it was a very long time before I found the clarity to walk it.

So during this period I felt like I was in limbo. Maybe even taking two steps back, after my big leap forward at the new year.

Then in Santa Barbara, spring 2019 arrived with a flourish, with more cleansing rain than we’d had in ages. Literally. Southern California officially declared the end of the drought. Everything was alive. The wildflowers were in superbloom and the fire flowers were showing themselves after almost a decade of hiding.

But me? I was still hindered. Caught in a false start.

Ostara –to– Beltane

Finally, in April of 2019, it happened. I broke up with Jeremy.

Clarity. Pain. The bonfires of Beltane burning bright.

This separation was a long, long time coming, and to those who are close to me, it came as no surprise. I had been so unhappy, for so many years, despite all my trying. And I guess I’d just needed the time. To gather my strength. To find the strength to prioritize my own well-being.

In fire there is transformation. This was a period of aching change and razor-edge realization. I wonder if a snake feels pain when it sheds its skin?

But if Ostara was my false start, then the bonfires of Beltane had me regaining my footing, plunging forward, ready to begin anew. And there was never any doubt. Everything was high-resolution, crystalline clarity. I was shedding the skin of another life, of a path not chosen, and it hurt. But it also felt like a giant leap into freedom.

Beltane –to– Litha

I could see the life I wanted. Like a bouquet of spring wildflowers, I knew that I could gather all the precious parts to make a magical, beautiful bouquet of my life. I wasn’t there yet, but for the first time, I could see all the pieces around me, just ready to be picked.

I spent a lot of time alone during this period. On the weekends that I didn’t have Waits, I would often stay shut up in my house for days on end, just reading and cleaning and rearranging furniture. Reclaiming the space.

And I traveled to Hawaii, to Maui, for Damian and Danielle’s wedding. I was so honored to be invited. And I spent 10 days in Maui, mostly all by myself. 10 full days and if I wasn’t hanging with Waits, I was entirely alone. I did a ton of reading. I took long walks collecting beach treasures, and brought them back to build an elaborate altar in my hotel room. I did a lot of magic. And I jumped off volcanic jetties into the ocean, and I swam solo every day, and on my second-to-last day I rented a car and circumnavigated the entire perimeter of the island, the Road to Hana and beyond, traipsing through jungle and discovering rainbow eucalyptus groves and chasing waterfalls and getting lost on lonesome, unpaved, barely-there roads on the backside of the island. All by myself.

Alone alone alone.

There’s a verse in an Amanda Palmer song that goes

“Now I have friends and I’m not such a loser,
but I go to bars all alone and I sit there,
and order red wine and I write,
and I like being alone around people.
Yes that’s how I like it.”

And that’s how late spring of 2019 was for me.

Litha –to– Lammas

Midsummer and life was in full bloom. Finally the sun came to Santa Barbara, chasing away the May Grey and the June Gloom. Finally I could bask in the radiant sun. I felt radiant, too.

I had leapt, and I had landed on both my feet. I felt so firmly planted, rooted into my new life. Tapped into something profound.

I was using the new-start lessons of Imbolc and the brave-leap freedom of Beltane, and I was living life on my own terms. I was living the life that I wanted.

My parenting game was on point, and my relationship with Waits just continued to blossom and deepen. My career was thriving as well, bringing me creative outlets, opportunity to learn and grow, and a financial security I had never dared to dream of. And I was pouring myself into my magical practice, and my friendships, and my garden. It was a summer of abundance, where finally, my “cup” didn’t feel like it was always running on empty.

I felt fullness.

Finally.

Lammas –to– Mabon

I had experienced summer in full technicolor. I dyed my hair the color of citrine, of sunflowers, of bee pollen. I was golden.

We had our annual family reunion in Northern California. We camped in the redwoods and I felt at home there. Up on the Lost Coast, it’s perpetually rainy and everything feels alive and it always smells of petrichor. I found comfort amongst those giants

And I travelled to Denver, to visit dear friends. Another trip forged on my own. It was a long weekend of vegan brunches and afternoon microbrews and home-cooked feasts and corn mazes and nostalgic television and walking an adolescent puppy all over every inch of downtown Denver. It was precious companionship with two of my very favorite humans, but also — it was independence. I felt so single, on that trip. So completely of my own person.

When I got back, Waits started school. And soccer season. And we went skating every single weekend we were together.

And when I didn’t have Waits, I was still hermiting myself away. I was utterly reclusive; all through spring and summer I had been basking in solitude. It’s all I had wanted, all the way up until the exact moment that I didn’t.

One day I woke up and I was ready to rejoin the world. Just in time for autumn.

Mabon –to– Samhain

So fall 2019 was all dating and mating. I discovered — and dove headlong — into the strange and foreign world of online dating apps. Tinder and Her, and a local community. I’ve basically been collecting stories ever since.

My friends and I make up silly monikers for all my trysts. There was The Ginger Tree (6’7″, red-bearded). There was Porch Date and Awkward Hang Glider and Culver Girl and The Winemaker and Katherine-Not-Catherine. And the Punk Rock Lawyer.

I was having lots of fun. And then, a few days before Samhain, my 93 year old grandmother passed away. It wasn’t unexpected, and truth be told she had been wanting to die for a long time. For years even. She had been praying for it.

So I was grateful for her sake that her suffering had ended. But still — it’s always painful, and deeply unsettling, to confront mortality. To get up close with Death. And of course, it’s so heartbreaking to have to say goodbye. This was Waits’s first funeral, and he insisted on being there. He loved her. And I’m so glad he was there, for her and for him and for me. For all of us.

Sex and death. Samhain season.

Samhain –to– Yule . . . & Beyond

Everyone tells me I’m glowing. That I have a joie de vivre positively radiating out of me.

2019 has been good to me, and it’s written all over my attitude. I feel rooted, solid, steadfast and strong. Just perfectly present in this life.

So much so that when my boss went in to labor 5 weeks early, plunging me headlong into the crisis of running the entire Intro Bio program with no plan in place and a million fires to put out and a million leaks to plug and other wreckage-evoking metaphors, well, I was able to step into leadership with calm and grace. A parry here, a redirect there, and a creative solution to keep everything afloat. I’m running the show now, at least for the foreseeable future, and the show must go on. It’s going on. And it’s good.

I don’t know that I would have been able to do that, to step into authority with such confidence and ease, even just a year ago. I’ve grown so much in 2019.

False starts. Spring showers. Fireguilding. Solitude. Technicolor. Transformation. Sex and Death. Strength.

2019 has been a true journey, and one I wouldn’t trade for anything. Because now, as this last post on Bonzai Aphrodite auto-pushes to publication, I find myself off on a peregrine adventure. Vesper and I will be chasing the sun, chasing possibility, chasing our wildest dreams, van-camping and surfing and wanderlusting our way through Baja, to celebrate the New Year under the stars on a remote beach on the Sea of Cortez, in who-knows-where, Mexico.

And who knows where we’ll go?

And who knows what 2020 will bring?

More adventure, I say! More travel. More challenge. More resilience. More sex. More laughter. (and tears.) More hurt. More hope. More love.

I welcome all of it, I welcome the good and I welcome the bad, and everything in between. All the soaring peaks and all the stinging valleys. I welcome all that life brings. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because that’s how you know that the wheel is still turning.





I love you all, forever and always. Thank you for 10+ years of adventuring alongside me.

I’ll see you ’round the internet!

♥
~Sayward
(@sayward on Instagram)

On the winter solstice, we celebrate Yule!

Yule is the first day of winter — and the shortest day of the year. It’s also my very favorite holiday, and one I’ve written about quite a bit on the blog: 2016 here, 2013 here, and 2010 here.

I think I’m so drawn to Yule because unlike so many other celebrations, it’s not all fluff and fantasy. The winter solstice doesn’t just focus on joy and light and goodness. In this way, it is actually the opposite of almost every other holiday (especially the western ones).

Yule recognizes the profound duality of life: the lightness and the dark, the joy and the sadness, the abundance and the loss. Yule is a time to pause in honor of all thats’s good, while also holding space for pain.

I always invite me melancholy to our solstice celebration. It belongs there.

Sometimes it helps to imagine the Wheel of the Year as representing the course of one entire life.

Imbolc would be the quickening inside the belly, the seed planted and beginning to grow. Then Ostara is the birth, the toddling, and the innocence of childhood. Come Beltane we reach puberty, and sexual exploration. Then Litha, the summer solstice, is maturity: life in full bloom. The Maiden has become lover, and will soon become Mother.

The harvest festivals mark the latter part of a lifespan. Lammas is parenthood, the fruits of labor all around us, to toil over and to enjoy — in equal parts. By Mabon, things are beginning to slow down. There is a quieting. The mother kisses her babes goodby, and settles into her final place: as Crone. Samhain is the celebration that honors death, without fear or remorse. Death is a part of life. The wheel turns us all.

And thus the wheel turns towards Yule: the darkest hour. Post-death, and pre-birth. The quiet unknown.

Every year, my godparents mark the Winter Solstice with a small gathering of close friends and family. We celebrate outdoors in the mountains above Santa Barbara, and right at sunset, my godfather makes fire the old fashioned way, using a bow drill and a ball of palm tinder. We all take turns blowing on the tinder, using our collective breath to build the spark into a flame.

Fire is life. Even in the quiet unknown, there is always a spark.

After we make fire, we write down our intentions for the coming year, and toss them into the flames. Transmutation.

And we always read the same poem — Wild Geese by Mary Oliver, and I always cry, every single time.

And then we feast!

And so it has been, for as long as I can remember. My favorite holiday.

And you, my dears.

However you celebrate Yule (or not!), I hope that you’ll maybe take a moment to *pause* on the winter solstice. To invite your melancholy to belly up to the bar alongside you, to sit with the sadness and the darkness for a spell. Maybe nod your head at them. Maybe even give them a hug. Because they’re a part of life — an important one.

The wheel turns us all.

Happy Yule!

On the Autumn Equinox, we celebrate Mabon!

♥ 12 + 12 ♥

Mabon marks the Autumnal Equinox, when darkness and light are in absolute balance. The day has exactly as many hours as the night, and in this moment, harmony rules the universe. After this, the scales will tip.

Mabon is the second, and center, of the three major harvest festivals. It’s a little more somber than Lammas, as now there’s no denying that the season is in full flux. The cool air that greets you in the early mornings. The state of gardens and meadows and parks across town, all drooping dried plants and fallen fruit. And the light that’s slicing harsher across the horizon, casting everything is contrast of brightness and shadow. It’s beautiful, but ominous.

Because Mabon reminds us that winter is coming. After this festival, the days will be shorter than the nights. Darkness returns, and will continue to grow, all the way until we crest the Winter Solstice at Yule. So, this is a time of fortification. Battening down the hatches, if you will. We harvest and prepare, we reap and we preserve. It’s time to start stockpiling, both literally and metaphorically, so that we’ll be able to make it through the winter.

For the second time this year, the sun moves across the celestial equator — this time heading south. The sun, our incredible celestial life-giver from no less than 92 million miles away, has almost completed her annual journey. And on this day, on Mabon, she will rise at exactly due east, and she will set directly due west. On the equinoxes, I’m always reminded that you don’t need to believe in gods or goddesses, or an all-knowing universe, or anything else supernatural, to appreciate the exquisite symmetry of this moment. The natural is super enough. Teeming with chaos, random and massive and at times so overwhelming, and yet still, always — dependably and reliably — in perfect alignment.

And my goodness, I think that’s something to celebrate.

Mabon, the Autumn Equinox, has been recognized and celebrated by almost every culture across the world for as long as humans have been looking at stars. This year, the equinox falls on March 23rd. Some suggestions for celebrating in modern day include:

♥ Work in the garden. Gather and dry herbs, turn the soil, spread mulch. Focus on harvesting, fortifying, and amending types of tasks. ♥

♥ Make magic around unfinished business, both practical and spiritual. Clean your physical space. Tie up loose ends and complete lingering projects. Kondo your house and have a garage sale! Get your affairs in order. ♥

♥ For cooking: harvest bounty like apples, squash, corn, bread, autumn veggies, and baked goods.
For drinking: red wine, mulled cider, dark fruity drinks. ♥

♥ Reflect back on your year: are you reaping what you tried to sow? On Imbolc, when the world is still quiet, we set our intentions for the coming year. And then, on Ostara, we began to turn those aspirations into real action.

So, looking back, how did you do? It’s not too late to make a change . . . ♥





The candles burn. The days shorten. The seasons turn.

However you celebrate Mabon (or not!), I wish you a fall filled with coziness and cuddles, warm drinks and full bellies, gratitude and friendship and laughter and love. Happy Autumnal Equinox!

On August 1st, we celebrate Lammas!

Lammas, or Lughnasadh, is the first of the three pagan harvest festivals. Although the names “Lammas” and “Lughnasadh” are often used interchangeably, their origins are actually quite distinct. Lammas, literally translated to “loaf mass” in reference to the first reaping of wheat and thus the baking of bread, is a Saxon holiday. Lughnasadh, on the other hand, is named for Lugh, Irish god of craftsmanship, and is Gaelic in origin. But both are harvest festivals traditionally held at the same time of the year, and therefor they share many celebratory characteristics.

Personally, I do not worship gods (or goddesses), so I prefer to call my holiday Lammas. But many modern witches prefer Lughnasadh, and many others just use the two names interchangeably.

Whatever you choose to call it, the first harvest is a profound celebration; we joyfully revel in food and feasting, while weaving in timely themes of hope, sacrifice, and trust.

Because Lammas is a bittersweet time. We are at the height of summer, the most beautiful time of the year. The garden is abundant, the days are long and the sun is ever bright, ever warming. Our days are spent basking in this moment of perfection, but at the same time we know . . . it’s all fleeting.



It may not feel like it yet, but the days are already beginning to shorten. Darkness is returning. Lammas marks the halfway point between the summer solstice and the autumn equinox, so in these last glorious days of summer, we celebrate our harvest — but we also must be prudent. Now is the time to gather grain and save seed. This summer won’t last forever.

Lammas altars are decorate with sunflowers and other orange flowers, wheat and oak, corn dollies, onion garlands, and other images or objects related to the harvest. Seasonal activities follow suit, and include brewing beer or wine, baking breads or sweet pastries, and other kitchen magic. Spellwork focuses on themes of abundance and prosperity, connection to loved ones or settling disputes, and mental or physical gains.

Some fun and modern ideas for celebrating Lammas include:

♥ Do a full house cleansing or blessing. You can use smoke, vapor, or sound (bells or chimes work great). ♥

♥ Make corn dollies! This is especially great to do with kids — Waits and I made corn dollies for our altar this year, and he loved it. Some people bury their corn dolly in their garden during Samhain, and others keep their dolly for a full year, then burn it and make a new one next Lammas. As always, do whatever feels right for you. ♥

♥ Gather wild berries, then bake them into a pie. Make kitchen magic! ♥

♥ Try brewing your own beer or making your own blackberry or elderberry wine. ♥

♥ The Perseid Meteor Shower happens every year between mid-late July and early-mid August, which means it’s always raining falling stars for Lammas! Find out where you can see the Perseids, and go out searching for a shooting star to wish upon. ♥

♥ Build (or rebuild) a handmade broom. ♥

♥ Braid onion garlands. ♥

♥ Make a wicker man. Then make a bonfire, and burn it! ♥

♥ For Cooking: Hearty grains, baked goods, cornbread, blackberries, potatoes, popcorn. ♥
♥ For Drinking: Beer, blackberry wine, elderflower cordial, mint or cucumber water, mojitos. ♥

However you celebrate Lammas or Lughnasadh (or don’t!), my wish is that you’ll carry with you the spirit of hope as we move into the darker days of autumn. That you’ll notice the way the earth makes her seasonal sacrifice, and find a way to honor that sacrifice. And, that you’ll allow yourself to revel in these last lingering glory days of summer. Because goodness, they’re good!

On the summer solstice, we celebrate Litha!

Litha is the first day of summer — the longest day of the year! On this day, the life-giving sun is strongest over the powers of darkness. Litha is a time for light magic, honoring:

LOVE :: LUCK :: ABUNDANCE :: ENERGY.

By the time the summer solstice comes, all the seeds have been planted. The stage is set. Summer is here! Litha celebrates the precious moment of pause, between those early tender spring crops, and the coming bounty of the summer harvest. Look for butterflies, bees, and birds. Honor your pets.

Litha is feast and fulfillment.

Litha is health and healing.

Litha is light, love, and luck!

Often, pagans decorate their Litha altars with flowers, fruit, and images or objects related to the sun. Traditional celebrations include lighting bonfires on hilltops and then rolling burning wheels down the hillsides, to represent sun. Maybe not practical in modern times, but fun to imagine nevertheless!

For a more manageable celebration, you could try:

♥ Make “solar water” by leaving a jug of water out in the sunlight, all day. ♥

♥ Make sun tea. ♥

♥ “Solarize” your crystals by giving them a bath in the sunlight. ♥

♥ Do yoga or take a walk at sunrise or sunset. ♥

♥ Make sun catchers. ♥

♥ Honor the bees by putting out dishes of water, or buying some bee-friendly plants/flowers for your yard. ♥

♥ Eat berries. Make jam! ♥

♥ Make a flower mandala. ♥

♥ Read or watch A Midsummer’s Night Dream. ♥

Last year on Litha, me and all my witchy women were so very busy with our kids and careers and very, very grown-up things. Such is the way of life, sometimes. We weren’t able to make a whole party of it, but we did meet on the beach at dusk. I brought sunflowers and golden pilar candles. We sacrificed an entire bottle of wine to cast a circle, then we called the corners and thanked the light.

Then, we lit our candles and made wishes as we leapt over them.

However you celebrate Litha (or not!), I hope that you’ll get some extra time outside in the coming days. I hope you’ll stop to stand still in the sunlight, to *pause* your very, very grown up things, if only for a moment.

Soak it up.

On February Eve, we celebrate Imbolc!

Imbolc (pronounced ihm-bulk or ihm-bulg) is the festival of Midwinter, beginning on the evening of January 31st and continuing on though February 2nd. If we imagine the Wheel of the Year as representing the course of one life, then Imbolc — translated from Old Irish as “in belly” — is that peaceful, hopeful period of gestation. Pre-Awakening. Pre-Sprout. Pre-birth.

This time of year, the earth is still asleep under the heavy blanket of winter. But come February Eve, we begin to feel something stirring. Thus, Imbolc is simultaneously a meditation on the stillness and quiet of the barren season, while also preparing to welcome in the new life of springtime.

Deep underground, the tiniest root-buds gently strain against the thinning walls of the seeds that surround them.

Snuggled safely in burrows and nests and dens, bellies swell as the babes inside begin their quickening.

Metamorphosis is everywhere, invisible but universal. Imbolc is the time to ready ourselves for the journey ahead.

In that spirit of preparation, this is a holiday centered around purification and cleansing. It’s a good time to hunker down and figure out what you really want. Make a giant list, build a vision board, or draw the dream you wish to manifest. Focus on concrete plans, but do whatever it takes to find your inspiration. Because Imbolc is the perfect time to take charge of your life!

Imbolc is called “Midwinter” but here in southern California, spring is already showing itself. Last year, I was grateful to be able to dress my altar with fresh flowers and herbs that I gathered around town, along with the more traditional elements of snow/salt, seeds, and milk.

One of my favorite things about practicing witchcraft is that the rules are bendy and blurry and pretty much open to your own intuition. So, you can mark the holiday in whatever way speaks to you. However, traditional themes around Imbolc include:

♥ Breaking bread with friends ♥
♥ Honoring hearth and home (anything from protection magic to simple spring cleaning) ♥
♥ Divination (watch for omens) ♥
♥ Dressing and blessing candles, or any kind of candle magic ♥
♥ Taking a Ritual Bath. (In ancient Ireland, sacred wells were visited during Imbolc, and water from the wells was used to bless the home, the family, and the fields) ♥

In Neo-Druidity, Imbolc is considered the “Women’s Holiday”, and ruled by the divine feminine. Imbolc is the time when new witches are initiated into the coven. This seemed especially relevant to me last year, as Imbolc was the first gathering of what has become my own little coven of magic-making women. As I said in my last post, my only real New Year’s Resolution of 2018 was to create tradition and community around the 8 pagan sabbats.

Imbolc was the first.

We make our own traditions. On February 1st last year, I arrived to pick Waits up from school, and found him carrying a pink plastic flamingo. He told me that his school was going to throw it out, and he couldn’t bear the thought of it going to waste, so he’d rescued it. He named it Reggie. And he asked if Reggie could be part of our Imbolc celebration.

Well . . . why not?

We make our own traditions, and now forevermore our Imbolc will include Reggie, the Imbolc Flamingo, centerpiece of our party. Reggie calls to mind midsummer’s sticky heat. Florida-hot beachy bright days. A perfect compliment to the bite and the bluster of midwinter. In this way, Reggie reminds us that there is always balance.




Are you feeling excited to organize your own Imbolc gathering? This year February 1st just so happens to fall on a Friday — the perfect day for a party! So, here are some of my favorite ideas (some traditional, some non-traditional) to bring a little Imbolc spirit into your modern Midwinter celebration:

1) Burn a candle in every room of your home, to clear out negativity, and to call in the light of spring.

2) Smash a geode! This one is super family-friendly. Kids love it, and your own inner child will love it as well. Geodes are a beautiful metaphor for the Earth in winter — barren on the outside, but bursting with beauty right beneath the surface. Let that beauty out! *Smash* *Smash* *Smash* It’s so fun! (Pro-tip, put your geode in an old sock before going at it with a hammer. That way when it breaks, the pieces won’t go flying.) I bought my geodes at my local metaphysical shop, but you can order them online too. This kit from National Geographic looks really cool!

3) Plant new spring seeds! Start your seedlings inside, and remember that even when the world is cold, we can always nurture new hope with a little bit of light and a little bit of love. Keep your seedlings in a warm spot under a sunny window. (For more on starting seeds indoors, check out this series I did ages ago, here and here and here.)

4) Cooking: food with friends, especially something with seeds, something with peppers, anything bright or spicy, or something with onions, leeks, or garlic. I made mixed pepper tacos, and my friend Jennie made kitchari which was beautiful and delicious and I didn’t take any pictures of it, booo. Drinking: full-bodies white or spicy red wine. We shared a bottle of dark, peppery syrah, and it was perfectly rich and warming on a midwinter night.

5) Pulling tarot, throwing bones, or reading tea leaves (any type of divination).

6) Taking a ritual cleansing bath. I gave my friends each a bottle of Florida Water at the end of our celebration, and sent them off to take their own ritual baths. I love Florida Water for cleansing, blessing, and protecting (you can find it at any botánica, or most metaphysical shops) (this is the one I use), and it seems especially appropriate for an Imbolc ritual bath. Florida Water is named for the fountain of youth — perhaps the most sacred of Sacred Wells, I’d say!

Create family traditions around the 8 sabbats: Imbolc, Ostara, Beltane, Litha, Lughnasadh, Mabon, Samhain, and Yule. Include the coven and close friends. Create community. 8 parties this year!

It was an ambitious goal, but for the most part, I was totally successful! 2018 was the year that my magical practice fully bloomed and rooted. It feels so deeply ingrained in my everyday life, now. And as I’ve finally begun to feel more comfortable sharing this part of myself (mostly on Instagram stories), I’ve gotten so many private messages from others out there, on a similar magical journey . . . or wanting to be!

Which makes a lot of sense. One of the reasons I’ve always been drawn to witchcraft, is because of the way I feel that it connects me to the natural rhythms of the earth. Now granted, there are a million ways to be a witch, and mine is just one of them. But I think this sense of connection is calling to a lot of people, these days.

In my own practice, I am a secular solitary green witch, which means that my craft is based around natural cycles: the monthly waxing and waning of the moon, the slow but steady changing of the seasons, or even the daily passage of the sun, from dawn into dusk. Attuning myself to these natural rhythms bring me a profound sense of connection. It helps to settle the existential angst that’s otherwise always humming softly in the background of my mind. We are each of us small and insignificant, yes — but we are also intimately woven into something unimaginably large and exquisitely beautiful. What a gift!

And that’s why witches celebrate The Wheel of the Year. To remind us of this.

Imbolc — February 1st(ish) — Mid-Winter
“First light in the dark of winter”

Ostara — March 20(ish) — Vernal (Spring) Equinox
“Spring’s arrival”

Beltane — May 1(ish) — May Day
“The fertile earth”

Litha — June 21(ish) — Summer Solstice
“The longest day of the year”

Lughnasadh — August 1(ish) — First Harvest
“Abundance between lightness and dark”

Mabon — September 21(ish) — Autumn Equinox
“The harvest is home”

Samhain — October 31(ish) — Final Harvest
“The witches New Year”

Yule — December 21(ish) — Winter Solstice
“The shortest day of the year”

I’m planning to do a series of posts about the Wheel of the Year, and how I celebrate each of these 8 sabbats, over the course of 2019. I’m so very excited to share them with you!

Lots of Love,
~Sayward

I’m posting it! After “recipe testing” with Waits every Christmas Eve for the past five years, we’ve perfected our gluten-free vegan Meyer Lemon Loaf. And so now, for this Christmas Eve, we finally get to share it!

This wintery citrus treat has become one of my favorite Christmas traditions. We use meyers from our own miniature tree (the one I used to keep in our living room and pollinate with paint brushes when we lived in Portland!), and we spend the evening before Christmas listening to music and making a lovely lemon loaf. But it’s taken a few years (4 Christmas Eve’s, to be exact) to perfect the recipe. Gluten free and vegan can be pretty dang finicky.

You can see our progress in last year’s (2016) Christmas post. I didn’t post about Christmas in 2015, since that was the thick of grad school + wine bar, so blogging was pretty sparse back then. But the lemon loaf showed up in my Christmas photos from the year before (2014) and this little Le Love List the year before that (2013).

So yeah, this recipe has been a long time coming. And I’m so happy to finally share this special tradition, from our Christmas kitchen to yours.

Ingredients
2 cups Bob’s Red Mill Gluten-Free Biscuit and Bread Mix (you could use another gluten free mix, but I think this one works best)
1 cup evaporated cane juice
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons chia seeds
1 1/4 cups plant milk
1/2 cup canola oil
2 tablespoon meyer lemon zest
1/3 cup meyer lemon juice
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

For the Lemon Icing
1 cup powdered sugar
2 tablespoons meyer lemon juice
1 tablespoon meyer lemon zest

Instructions
Preheat the oven to 375º and grease a loaf pan (I like to use coconut oil).

Zest and then juice 3-4 meyer lemons.

In a medium sized mixing bowl, combine the dry ingredients: gluten-free flour, evaporated cane juice, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and chia seeds. Once thoroughly mixed, make a “well” in the center of the dry ingredients.

In a separate mixing bowl, whisk together the wet ingredients: plant milk, canola oil, lemon zest, lemon juice, and vanilla extract. Pour the wet ingredients into the well you made in the dry ingredients, and then quickly stir to form a batter.

Pour the batter into your greased loaf pan, then bake at 375º for 50 minutes. While the loaf is baking, whisk together the ingredients to make the icing. Whisk until completely smooth and then set aside. After 50 minutes, check with a toothpick to make sure the loaf is cooked all the way through (the toothpick should come out clean). Ovens vary so you may need another 5-15 more minutes.

Allow the loaf to cool completely before icing. I usually make the loaf and the icing the night before, and then drizzle the icing over the loaf right before serving.

We serve this Meyer Lemon Loaf for breakfast every Christmas morning, but of course it’s not reserved for Christmas only. It would be a perfect tea cake, or could easily be modified into muffins. Meyer lemon is such a unique flavor, and the tart citrus combined with the sweet bread is just delightful. It’s pretty much perfect for any occasion.

Happy Holidays, friends!

♥ ♥ ♥

Here’s some of the highlights, from our many celebrations.


Winter Solstice


We celebrate the Winter Solstice at my godparents house, with a small group of close family friends, and have been for as long as I can remember. This is where I learned to honor the changing of the seasons; the balance of darkness and light. Solstice is my favorite of the winter holidays, because it’s the one that connects us to the Earth.

Our Solstice celebrations have undergone many evolutions over the years, but there are some traditions that never change. Most importantly, my godfather makes fire, the old fashioned way, by rubbing sticks to create a spark. Then we take turns blowing on the tinder ball to grow the flame with our breath. Once the fire catches, we stoke it and tend it, building it to a bonfire. The center of our circle. Into the fire we send our intentions: we release our fears or we cast our dreams.

And every year one of us reads the same poem. Always.

The Winter Solstice grounds me. Reminds me of my place, in the family of things.

Welcome, winter.

Christmas


I was never a Christmas person until I had a child. But look at that face! My goodness, Christmas is freaking FUN.

And we’ve developed our own family Christmas traditions, as well. I always have Waits on Christmas Eve. My dad comes over and we exchange gifts, and then Waits writes a letter to Santa and we set out some snacks. In the morning, Damian and his partner Danielle come over and we all do Christmas morning together, as a family. Then in the afternoon Damian takes Waits to have Christmas with his parents, and Jeremy and I . . . well, we usually nap. Ha! But really, we get a nice lazy Christmas evening together, and it’s awesome.

Hanukkah


Hanukkah is another holiday we spend with my godparents. Did you know Manischewitz is vegan??

Waits had already been celebrating Hanukkah with Danielle and her family, so he was an old pro by the time we gathered together on the fifth night. He knew most of the words to sing (in Hebrew) during the blessing. He proudly informed me that the middle/special candle on the menorah is called the “shamash”, and he knew all the symbols on the dreidel, including their Hebrew names and meanings. His enthusiasm is pretty adorable.

It was another magical night full of happiness, laughter, and love. Of tradition, and family, and light. And I feel so lucky that I get so many of those!

New Years Eve

And finally, there’s New Year’s Eve! No traditions here, it’s different every year. And this time around we had Waits, but a buddy of his was having a kid’s party starting at 5 and going until 10ish. Pretty awesome! I dropped him off with his gaggle of happy, scrappy, barefooted and half-feral boys, and was able to steal away for an evening out with my honey.

We hit our favorite date-night spot, for an incredible vegan Japanese feast. It was epic, as always.

After dinner we still had plenty of time, so we popped across the street to our favorite SB cocktail spot. Our friends are the owners, and it was great to be able to see them, and toast to the new year together!



After that we were off to go pick up Waits. I was so excited to ring in the new year with my two favorite boys! We got home, got cozy in our pjs, got the Time Square streaming set up on the TV, and . . . Waits promptly fell asleep. Ha!



It’s okay, we roused him in time for the ball drop, and toasted together (pink bubbles for Jeremy and I, a sparkling mocktail for Waits) at the stroke of midnight.

We counted down together, and screamed “HAPPY NEW YEAR” together, and then all three of us smooched. It was Waits’s first time ringing in the New Year, and I was surprised at how absolutely overjoyed I felt at that moment, sharing it with him.

We all know that 2016 was hard. And let’s not pretend that 2017 will be any easier. Which is all the more reason to embrace those precious moments whenever they happen. So -here’s to being present, being grateful, kicking ass, fighting for what’s right, loving hard, living big, and capturing as many amazing moments as possible in the coming year.

Cheers! To all of you, and to us.

♥

In celebration of my recovered data, I’m sharing the photos from Waits’s very first ever Spring Break. Kindergarten is flying by, and these are a few weeks old already, but looking through them makes me so happy and I am so very grateful to have gotten them back. And this whole process has made me so grateful for this blog. Because if I had lost everything, if all my photos had disappeared, at least I would have had the ones I’d posted here. I’d least I’d have had this record.

So I’m gonna go ahead and keep on recording. Here’s how we spent a very kindergarten Spring Break, 2016. ♥



















It was a really good week.

♥

PS – And now we’re back to our regularly scheduled blogging. YAY!