A Kitchen‑Witch Practice — Crow‑Style

(scroll below for magick blogs + rituals)

I’m a mom in Crocs trying to remember myself between dishes and diapers.
My altar is the kitchen counter.
My wand is my finger.
Most of my rituals happen while the dishwasher runs and my son plays with his dad in the other room.

My husband used to read Crowley and Lon Milo DuQuette aloud to me on a tri‑fold cushion in a moldy motel we lived in, while pregnant and we ate toasted PB&J bagels. Those teachings shaped me. I carry them like old bones in my pocket — steady, respected, and part of my spiritual ancestry.

But I needed something I could understand better and do a little quicker.
In English.
At 3 p.m. on a Tuesday,
while cutting strawberries,
or stepping over toys.

So I had learned the LBRP from my husband.
Then I wrote my own version — the Mom Magick Ritual of Protection (MMRP) — because while I loved the traditional ritual, I never felt I completely understood it until I put it into my own words. Rewriting it in plain language helped the meaning land in my body. And let’s be honest: sometimes I’m doing ritual with Cheerios stuck to my heel. I needed something I didn’t have to perform “as good as Crowley” — a pressure I put on myself that could keep me from practicing if I didn’t make magick my own.

Make Your Own Magick

And this page is still being written. I’m redoing a lot of the website right now, but here I’ll share the ways I practice daily magick and how I’ve come to understand spellwork through three teachers who each gave me a piece of the same key:

• Aleister Crowley taught me that words have weight, that ritual is a technology, and that the boundary between inner and outer is thinner than most people think.

• Abraham Hicks taught me that the universe responds to where I put my attention — that alignment is a form of power, and that what I think is the first spell I cast.

• Louise Hay taught me that the words I say to myself in the mirror are the most potent spells of all, and that healing begins when I stop arguing with my own reflection.

Why does Louise Hay belong on a magick page?
Because for me, a spell is a sentence I mean.
An affirmation is a spell I cast on my own belief system.
Choosing a new thought is as radical an act as drawing a circle in the air.

Why Abraham Hicks?
Because chaos magick says: use what works. Abraham taught me that my attention is a magnet, my mood is a tuning fork, and I can shift my reality by shifting my vibration — a word I used to roll my eyes at until I watched it change my life.

So when I talk about spellwork here, I’m not separating “Crowley magick” from “affirmations” from “law of attraction.”
For me, it’s all the same current: intention + word + belief.

How I Practice

Spells are words — and what we say matters.

Magick is the one‑second pause before you do something.
The exhale that opens a boundary.
Touching your chest in the mirror and whispering, “I trust you.”
Refusing to abandon yourself in small ways until the big ways become possible.

You don’t need perfect tools.
You don’t need robes.
You don’t need candles that match your zodiac chart.
You don’t need the right moon phase or a curated aesthetic.

You are the altar.
You are the wand.
You are the pattern‑breaker.
You are the spell.

If you’re here, you’re probably carrying wounds or whispers or whole chapters alone.
I don’t lead anyone.
But I’ll sit beside you and remind you that the magick you’re looking for is already inside you.

I’m still learning.
This page is molting.
The magick is always still becoming.

THE CROW CREED

I honor my body as the first altar.
I listen to my gut before the narrative.
I choose what keeps me present.
I leave what pulls me away.

I create my own rituals.
I trust my own symbols.
I protect my own field.

I release what isn’t mine.
I return what is.
I don’t abandon myself — not in fear, not in fatigue, not in love.

I build my magick from crumbs, breath, and everyday bravery.
I cast with integrity.
I do not try to control the will of others.

I am the wand.
I am the magician.
I am the pattern‑breaker.
I can change my reality.

Crow above me, truth within me, light where I walk.

WHAT CHAOS MAGICK MEANS HERE

Chaos magick says:

Use what works.
Leave what doesn’t.
Invent the rest.

You don’t need permission.
You don’t need purity.
You don’t need the right pronunciation to change your life.

Reality shifts when you shift your thoughts.
Belief is a tool, not a trap.
A spell is a sentence.
A ritual is a gesture.
Magick is the moment you mean what you say — and think.

Chaos magick is perfect for moms, survivors, neurodivergent brains, and anyone who needs real‑time tools.

(Though I still absolutely recommend learning the fundamentals if you’re a digger. I’m grateful my husband showed me Crowley. Without that, I wouldn’t be here making my own magick. You know the saying: you have to know the rules to bend them.)

Chaos magick is the form of magick that lets you create and begin — right where you are, with what you’ve got.

BLESSING

May your ordinary moments feel a little more enchanted.
May every choice you make in your own favor become its own quiet spell.
May your kitchen feel like a temple,
your breath feel like a doorway,
and your body be happy and healthy.

Crow keeps watch over you from the wire. 🐦‍⬛