I am Lola, a 27 years old Italian witch living in the countryside.
I consider myself very lucky, because every morning I can see the most beautiful sunrise from my windows.
During daytime, I spot many little birds, butterflies and insects looking for something to eat in my garden and, at night, I often see foxes and badgers trying to do the same.
I am a witch. I felt it since I was a little girl, playing with dirt, making potions and speaking with animals. I can still remember when my parents bought me to a crystal’s shop for the first time! I started practicing actively 10 years ago.
I am very close to nature and its seasons so I try (even if I am very busy with work and life in general) to live according to them.
Seasons are a huge part of my practice, I am quite fond of my altar and its decorations are based on the Sabbat in which we are in. My magick is also based and influenced by the time of the year, moon phases, etc.
I read tarot cards, even though I don’t consider it a way to predict the future ~ but a way to explore myself and/or have a better understanding of the present I’m living in.
Candle magick is one of my favorite kind of practice, but I also use food, spices, oils, herbs and crystals.
I am not a Wiccan, but it has been part of my journey with witchcraft.
I love fairies and gnomes! I never found one in my life - but I really hope I’ll be able to, one day!
In my profile you will find everything related to my practice and the things I like ~ if you also like everything related to fairytales, dark/light academia, gnomecore, gremlincore… let’s get to know each other!
Currently, I am not offering paid readings - but I am always open for free readings. You can always tip me if you feel called to.
What is elemental protection and how could you use it?
As the name suggests, elemental protection is a protection technique that involves the presence and the collaboration of the elements (air, water, earth, fire, spirit).
Please, note, that I used the content of the book “Psychic Witch: A Metaphysical Guide to Meditation, Magick & Manifestation” by Mat Auryn as an inspiration for this post.
When is the best time to use this kind of protection?
Even if there’s not a specific time or reason to use it, you should know that elemental protection works by literally BLOCKING your interaction with the energies outside you.
Therefore - you can’t perform any spell or be energetically “active” outside your protected area. When you’ll believe that you’ll no longer need to be (that) protected, you’ll have to “manually” remove the layers of protection around you.
That being said, you’ll recognize that the most suitable time to use elemental protection is when you feel like having NOTHING to do with that particular place/situation.
The process
First, you’ll have to ground yourself to the earth. Put yourself in a meditative state by taking a few loooong breaths. Feel the energy of the soil below your feet and the energy of the sky above your head.
Then - visualize yourself at the center of a big golden bubble: the energy shield that protects your from the outside world.
Take some time to feel the warmth and the comfort inside of your bubble.
See yourself as a beautiful castle (or inside of it!). Every beautiful castle has some big, strong, walls to protect it. Visualize them all around you. That’s the earth element.
Outside of the wall, there’s a moat full of water. The water is also there to protect you from enemy’s attacks.
And, to top it off, the highest, inaccessible curtain of fire encircles the castle. The enemies here are definitely not welcome.
Do you want more? A terrible storm is hovering outside the flames, wind is blowing at its highest speed.
All of that while you lay comfortably into your beautiful castle.
☸︎ The Witch’s Year: Yule & The Solstice Threshold
The longest night. The hidden flame. The return that begins in silence.
🝮 What is Yule?
Yule is not Christmas with pine needles and a magical log.
It’s not the ancient One True Holiday handed down perfectly through the centuries.
It’s a feral midwinter threshold ritual that has shape-shifted across lands, languages, and lore. And it is still transforming.
Yule is anchored to the winter solstice, the longest night of the year in the northern hemisphere. A moment when the sun appears to pause, catch its breath, and maybe come back.
The name comes from Old Norse jól, a midwinter festival that involved:
Feasting
Honoring the dead
And a terrifying divine ghost stampede across the sky called the Wild Hunt
(You know, holiday stuff.)
Yule didn’t just survive Christianity. It put on a new mask and haunted the place.
What we’re actually celebrating is the invocation of deep dark, the first flicker of returning light, the tangled threads of ancestors, and that weird liminal zone where nothing grows and everything just... waits.
To practice Yule isn’t to cosplay Vikings or rebuild a perfect past.
It’s to meet winter where it is. In your body, your land, your longing. And ask:
How do I move through the dark?
🜮 Yule: History Beneath the Holiday
Not a preserved rite. A memory that shapeshifts. Still breathing. Still loud.
✦ Etymology & Early Roots
So, “Yule.” Not invented by Christians. Not code for “Witchmas.” The word comes from Old Norse jól (and Old English ġeōl), probably from Proto-Germanic jehwlą, meaning “winter feast” or “wheel-turning party.” Some linguists think it’s connected to hjul, meaning wheel, as in “yo it’s the sun’s seasonal U-turn.”
In the Norse world, jól was not one tidy night with matching napkins. It was a whole multi-day rager for midwinter survival. Odin was out here cosplaying Death Santa, riding across the sky with the Wild Hunt. Which is basically the spirit version of an air raid siren made of wolves, ancestors, and unresolved grief.
Meanwhile, early Anglo-Saxon and Germanic folks were:
Feasting like their survival depended on it (because it did)
Pouring ale for gods and local spirits
Talking to their dead
Making oaths over fire
Doing midwinter divination to figure out how bad the next year would suck
Did this line up perfectly with the solstice? Nah. Calendars were weird and regional. People were just vibing with the land, so Yule happened when it felt right. That’s the point. Early Yule was a relationship, not a timestamp. Not one-size-fits-all, and definitely not curated for the feed.
✦ The Yule Log and Fire Customs
Before it was a Pinterest mood board or a sugar bomb, it was a full-on metaphysical event.
You know that looping video of a fireplace on Netflix? Yeah. That’s your great-great-great-ancestor’s sacred fire altar now being used as digital ambiance. Progress is weird.
The original Yule log wasn’t just seasonal decor. It was the chosen one. Oak or ash, maybe carved with runes, maybe soaked in ale, salt, or blood. Burned slowly over days, and the leftovers? Saved like sacred Wi-Fi for next year’s fire. Ancestral flame continuity. Year Two: Electric Boogaloo.
In some traditions, the log wasn’t just wood; it was a spell. A container of intentions, protection, luck, and probably that one cousin’s slightly chaotic oath to change everything this year (again).
These days, witches might:
Burn a candle over several nights as a mini-log
Carve sigils into a small stick and set it aflame
Bake a chocolate Yule log and charge it with chaotic sugar magic (do not underestimate the spell potential of frosting)
Whether you’ve got a roaring hearth, a single tealight, or just the last half-dead lighter in your junk drawer, this is fire as portal. Fire as promise. Fire as the voice that says, ‘Burn it down and start over’.
✦ Christian Adaptation & the “Twelve Days”
Because nothing says “we see your ancient festival” like repackaging it with saints and carols.
Christianity spread across Europe like a well-dressed colonizing fungus, took one look at Yule, and said, 'Nice feast. Shame if someone... stole it.'
So Yule didn’t disappear; it got absorbed. Transfigured. Slapped with new labels. By the medieval period, it had shape-shifted into what we now call the Twelve Days of Christmas (Dec 25 to Jan 6), which was a lot less “baby in a manger” and a lot more “liminal chaos zone filled with spirits and social anarchy.”
No joke, this stretch of time was feral.
Ghosts roamed.
The Wild Hunt howled.
Social roles got flipped (peasants became kings for a day, and nobody liked that except the peasants).
People told scary stories, invoked old gods in secret, and tried not to get possessed by seasonal depression or literal spirits.
Modern witches are out here reclaiming this twelve-day stretch like, “Why yes, I will do a twelve-day spell cycle. One day for grief, one for rebirth, one for ancestral screaming, and maybe one for baking bread and sobbing gently into it.”
Reminder: Yule isn’t just one night. It’s an unfolding. A spiral. A witchy Advent calendar stuffed with transformation and feral vibes.
✦ Solstice Markers Beyond Europe
The sun is out here doing weird stuff everywhere, and (gasp) other cultures noticed.
So, fun fact: the winter solstice is not just a vaguely pagan European thing with pine trees and vibes. It is an actual astronomical event that shows up all over the world. And surprise! People everywhere were like, “Hey, the sun is dying. We should probably do something magical about that.”
Here’s how some non-European traditions mark the longest night:
𖼝 Dongzhi (East Asia):
The Winter Solstice festival celebrates the return of yang energy. Families gather, eat warm food (especially sweet glutinous rice balls called tangyuan), and lean into themes of reunion, balance, and cosmic recharging. It’s giving “cozy resilience and quiet power-up.”
۞ Shab-e Yalda (Iran):
This is the longest night vigil. People stay up with pomegranates, nuts, poetry, and storytelling to keep the dark at bay until the sun returns. It’s romantic, ancestral, and extremely goth in the best way.
𓇳 Inti Raymi (Quechua/Inca):
In the Southern Hemisphere, their midwinter solstice is in June, and it hits different. This celebration honors Inti, the sun god, with offerings, dances, and ritual processions. It’s not about dormancy — it’s about renewal through ceremony and fire.
𓂀 Kemetian / Ancient Egyptian Temples:
These temples were built like cosmic clocks. Alignments with the solstice sun meant divine rebirth, solar resurrection, and that glorious moment when the architecture of a civilization high-key channels the literal sky.
These aren’t just aesthetic menu options. They’re living cosmologies, still humming with power.
So no, don’t just slap pomegranate seeds on your altar because you saw someone post it and thought it was cute. These traditions are sacred and specific. They’re not universal metaphors for “winter vibes.”
What they do remind us, though, is this:
The solstice is real.
It is a turning point that cultures across the globe have felt, tracked, and ritualized.
The witch’s job isn’t to collect them like Pokémon.
It’s about listening to time, honoring the rhythms where you are, and participating with care.
✦ From Wicca to Chaos Calendars
The Wheel of the Year is made up. But like, in a helpful way.
Let’s be clear: the modern eightfold Wheel of the Year (Yule, Imbolc, Ostara, Beltane, etc.) is not ancient. It’s basically a magical group project from the 20th century. Gardner and Nichols looked at a bunch of folk traditions and said, 'What if we made this a seasonal pie chart?'
And honestly? It works fine.
If you vibe with it, amazing. Roll with it. Light the candles. Decorate the wheel. Have your sabbat feasts.
But also: you don’t have to pretend it descended from the druids on a flaming oak of cosmic truth.
Because guess what. You can make your own calendar.
You can track time by your dreams, your grief, your local ecology, or whatever weird sacred rhythm is pulsing through your bones.
For example, your solstice might look like:
✧ The first snowfall that actually sticks
✧ The last time your period shows up before the new year
✧ Your grandma’s death day that always feels thin-veiled
✧ The final mugwort harvest before the ground freezes
✧ That one December night when your dreams last six years and the moon side-eyes you the whole time
Yule doesn’t have to be on December 21.
It doesn’t even have to be called Yule.
The solstice is a real celestial moment. But the spell? The name? The ritual? That’s yours to build.
Some of the best witches you’ll ever meet built their calendars out of broken clocks and pure feral instinct.
❂ Solstice as Threshold
Not just a holiday. A cosmic soft reset button. Bonus: metaphysics.
The solstice isn’t just a vibe. It’s not “yay, more sun soon” and then back to your peppermint mocha.
It’s an occult event.
Like, astronomically real. Celestially spicy. The sun literally hits pause.
The word “solstice” comes from Latin solstitium, meaning “sun stands still.”
Because from Earth’s perspective, it does. It hangs low. Suspended. Hovering on the edge of reversal.
That’s not just poetic. That’s spell fuel.
Across so many cultures, this moment wasn’t just marked; it was celebrated. It was mythologized.
Egyptians, Romans, Mesoamericans, Norse, Inca. Everyone out there is watching the sky go full drama queen.
And why? Because the solstice doesn’t ask permission. It turns the whole year on its axis and says, 'Time to pivot, babes.'
In myth, this moment shows up as:
The death of a solar deity
A spark stolen back from the underworld
A child of light born in the dark
A fire lit in the bones, not the sky
So what do witches do with that?
We treat it like the threshold it is.
We don’t just decorate it. We cross it. With spells, stillness, songs, silence, or whatever weird tool you’ve got in your witch kit.
Whether you’re a chaos witch, a folk practitioner, a cosmic cryptid, or just out here trying to mark time without crying in a shopping mall parking lot, the solstice is yours to meet.
You don’t need tradition to validate it.
You just need to notice the moment the sun stops moving, and ask what part of you wants to move next.
🜃 Yule as Spell, Not Spectacle
Midwinter magic isn’t here to make your Pinterest board pop. It’s here to rearrange your soul in the dark.
Yes, candles are cute. Yes, evergreen garlands are aesthetically pleasing. Yes, you can totally make a cinnamon-scented altar and bless your cat with juniper smoke.
But that’s not the root of Yule.
At its core, Yule is not just seasonal décor and warm drinks.
It’s a spell for survival.
It’s the work of sitting in the longest night and refusing to flinch.
It’s the part of the year where the light almost gives up, and you refuse to let it.
Yule asks you to practice:
Dying with dignity (metaphorically, probably)
Letting go of the sun you used to know
Cultivating warmth that doesn’t come from external validation or literal photons
Sitting in the dark without demanding it makes you feel better
Witnessing the first flicker of return without kicking the door open too soon
It’s rest. Deep, defiant, anti-productivity rest. The kind that spits in the face of hustle culture.
In a world screaming 'grind till you die and smile about it,' Yule is over here whispering, 'What if you just cocooned for a while and ignored your inbox until spring?'
And you don’t need a snowy forest.
Nor a perfect altar setup or a coven in matching robes.
You don't even need a name for it.
You just need to notice when the light changes, and decide what you’re going to do about it.
⚒︎ Ways to Work with Yule
Spells for when the sun yeets itself into seasonal hibernation and you're just trying to vibe through it.
This isn’t a checklist. It’s not homework. It’s a spell menu. Pick what resonates. Mix it up. Add glitter. Add grief. Yule isn’t about being impressive. It’s about staying warm in the quiet.
Here’s how you can work with it:
Light a single candle at sunset and keep it burning till dawn. Don’t do anything else. Just vibe with the fire. Stare into it like it’s holding the universe’s secrets. It probably is.
Burn your grief letters and dump the ashes in snow, dirt, or straight into the void. Let the earth take what you’re done carrying.
Leave offerings for house spirits like you’re bribing your way into their good graces. Bread, salt, milk, or that midnight snack you swore you wouldn’t eat.
Sit with an obsidian mirror or a bowl of dark water. Gaze in. Ask the dark what it knows. Hope it doesn’t roast you. If it does, you probably needed it.
Listen for the Wild Hunt. Or just name what’s been chasing you all year. Put a bell on it. Banish it. Feed it. Your call.
Smoke cleanse your home with evergreen like you’re airing out the ghost of seasonal depression. Spoiler: it’s still in the attic, but now it smells better.
Crochet or knot a ritual piece. Infuse it with intentions. Then unravel it at Imbolc like you’re dismantling old timelines. Bonus points for dramatic music.
And if none of that feels right?
You’re allowed to do absolutely nothing.
Seriously. Just noticing the solstice happened is enough. Even if you’re in bed under three blankets with a half-eaten cookie. That still counts.
𐃏 Rewilding the Wheel
Because not every witch lives in a pine forest or feels spiritually aligned with snowflakes and wassail.
Yule is powerful. But it’s not one-size-fits-all.
Some practitioners are like: “The light returns!”
Others are like: “The sun never left, it’s literally 90 degrees and my air conditioner is possessed.”
Both are valid.
Not everyone lives in a climate where the sun’s absence is felt the same way.
Not everyone’s body follows the same seasonal rhythm.
Not everyone descends in winter.
Not everyone wants to pretend they’re a medieval peasant in a linen robe.
This is where chaos witches, urban witches, queer witches, and just plain tired witches start remixing the calendar.
You can build your own ritual year out of whatever actually feels sacred to you. That might look like:
Celebrating your "new year" on your birthday, divorce finalization date, or the day you found out your bloodline isn’t cursed, just dramatic
Honoring your ancestors in the dry season, or during mushroom bloom, or whenever your family ghosts are loudest
Turning the solstice into a ritual to release capitalist holiday expectations, gender performance, or emotional burnout wrapped in tinsel
Making a personal sabbat out of your flare-up week, your dead friend’s favorite season, or the one night a year your house is finally quiet
The solstice is real. The turning point in the sky is real.
But your response? That’s art. That’s spellwork. That’s yours.
The Wheel of the Year is a map, not a contract.
Use it, remix it, or set it on fire and draw your own spiral in the dirt.
You’re not late. You’re not wrong. You’re just listening to a different rhythm.
☸︎ Part Ⅱ of The Witch's Year ∙ Follow for the full series!
#The Witch's Year
✍︎ Further Reading & Sources
✧ History & Folklore
Ronald Hutton. The Stations of the Sun
Carlo Ginzburg. Ecstasies: Deciphering the Witches’ Sabbath
Emma Wilby. Cunning Folk and Familiar Spirits
Éva Pócs. Between the Living and the Dead
✧ Modern Witchcraft & Chaos Rites
Aidan Wachter. Six Ways
Byron Ballard. Roots, Branches & Spirits
Starhawk. The Earth Path
Sarah Anne Lawless. Blog archives
✧ Cultural & Feminist Critique
Sylvia Federici. Caliban and the Witch
Jason Pitzl-Waters. The Wild Hunt (selected articles)
Hang a cinnamon stick onto your Yule tree - focus your intention with a sense of gratitude and be ready for all the abundance that the new year will bring 🎄
I also add dried orange slices, to bring lights into the dark season. Invite the sun to shine again and honor the nature, as it slowly wakes up from the winter.
How often do we feel disconnected from our craft? What do we do to get the spark back, when we feel distant from the magick world?
Well, let me give you a little context.
When I was younger in my craft, I felt like witchcraft needed to be all - or nothing. I almost took it like a duty, a “second job”.
This behavior, after a short period of time, led me to abandon my practice because I soon got overwhelmed, stressed - I got fomo and started comparing my journey with other practitioner’s ones.
It no longer was a safe place, but another way to compare myself to others and another obligation I had to attend during the day.
What I want to suggest now, is to treat yourself with more kindness.
Life is life! You need to work everyday, do house chores, study, gather with your loved ones and be present for them.
So - I won’t call it “losing your magick”, I won’t call it “hiatus”, I’d just call it life.
There will be moments in which you’ll be called to be more present into your daily mundane activities.
Your craft won’t be disappearing, just waiting for you.
If you, like me, love the cozy season and chocolate - this magical recipe might be for you.
Of course, we are going to add a little enchantment in it ✨
What you’ll need, is (for 1 person):
• 30g of dark chocolate;
• 10g of cocoa powder;
• 150ml of milk / vegan options of your choice;
• bio orange peel;
• a little piece of a cinnamon stick;
• cinnamon powder;
• (optional) star anise;
• (optional) honey.
Heat up the milk/other option together with the orange peel, the star anise (if you want to add it) and the piece you took from the cinnamon stick - but don’t make it boil.
Then, add the (previously chopped) dark chocolate and keep stirring.
If you want your hot chocolate to be sweeter, you can also add honey.
⋄ ⋄ ⋄ ⋄ ⋄ ⋄ ⋄ ⋄ ⋄ ⋄ ⋄ ⋄ ⋄ ⋄
If you have one, use a wooden spoon to stir your chocolate. While you do it, inhale the comforting smell coming from your pot and close your eyes.
When you are ready, open them again and, stirring three times clockwise, say:
I thank you - all the elements,
I am grateful for your help,
Please invite all the best into our lives and our homes.
I accept the abundance with an open heart, I will share your blessings with the people I love.
That’s it ~ pour it in your favorite mug and add a sprinkle of cinnamon powder to enhance the flavor.
Magical Correspondences
orange 🍊: associated with the sun, attracts joy and abundance
cinnamon ☕️ : like the orange, cinnamon is associated with the sun and is known for bringing success, abundance, protection and luck
star anise ⭐️ : associated with the element of air, star anise cleanses and protects us against malevolence.
Yule is on its way, and I’d like to share with you a little tradition that you can perform too, from today until the 21st of December.
As you probably know already, Yule marks the Winter’s solstice - the point where the dark rules over the light, daytime is at its shortest and the earth is dry and covered by snow.
Apparently, there is no sign of light.
In fact, the 21st of December brings us the longest night of the year.
During this time, we feel called to reflect upon what we achieved this year, wha we are grateful for and, also, what we are willing lo let go of.
The last month of the solar year, brings us a sense of closure and it’s also a special time to celebrate with the people we love most.
But…
What if the dark we are seeing now also means the promise of a future light? Every ending is also the doorstep of a new beginning - we just have to look for it and be patient.
As the ancient tradition taught me, I want to welcome the upcoming light with a sense of renovation.
It is said that placing a red candle every night - for just one hour - near to your window, will lead luck and blessings in your life (be safe when using candles!!!).
Do this, if you have time, every night until Yule ~
Here’s a tip on how to stay protected and preserve our energies to survive the mundane world ~
My favorite, quickest method (if you also need to take a shower):
While you are in the shower, close your eyes and imagine the water falling down on you of a radiant blue color - or a vibrant gold. Let it wash off all your “dirt”.
Then, draw a pentacle or your protection sigil on your shower’s glass (that, at this point, will be steamed up!).
Stare at your pentacle/sigil and imagine a bubble protecting you from head to toes, thanking all the elements for the cooperation.
You can also do this with your windows too, if you don’t mind the fingerprints ~ so you can keep your house protected as well.
