Practical Magic is a newsletter about ritual, creativity, and modern magic for the 21st century witch.
It’s written by Dana Cooper of Ritualist, a Hudson Valley-based witch shop & plant shop. ✷
Hello from Scorpio season! It’s been awhile, and that’s what prompted today’s theme of boundaries — namely honoring our own boundaries. Boundaries, self-care, and energetic protection are concepts that come up frequently in spiritual and magical practice, but I think many of us still have a hard time grasping what it actually looks like to put them into practice. I know I do, and October showed me just how important these things are in day-to-day life.
I spent much of October in survival mode, trying to get through one day at a time without getting completely overwhelmed by the fact that every single date on the calendar had something written on it. Even though I knew it would be an extremely hectic month, I had a lot to look forward to — I was hosting events, had family coming to visit, and was excited for the busy season at work — and somehow that tricked me into thinking that I could do it all, and do it well. I assumed that on top of all of the obligations I’d already committed to, I’d still be able to keep up with my Substack on a weekly-ish basis, put together some fun Halloween offerings at the shop like I had in previous years, and just generally function as a human being. I was wrong. 🙃
That first became apparent early on in the month, when I fell super behind on Instagram posts for my business account, left a time-sensitive shop email sitting half-finished and unsent on my laptop, and realized that my brain was so exhausted and overstimulated that I couldn’t think of a single thing to write about here. I let go of what I could (this newsletter), pushed through what I couldn't get out of (showing up for work and making sure the most urgent tasks were getting done), and kept going. And then one day, as I was getting ready to announce a Halloween party at the shop that I’d been planning for over a month, my inner voice spoke up. It gave me a hard no.
In a rare burst of clarity, my intuition stated the seemingly obvious: just don’t do it. I could just…skip this. I knew that my future self would thank me for not scheduling yet another event that required a lot of my time and energy, so why not give myself the gift of saying no and having one less thing to worry about? I thought about all of the times that I’d said yes when I’d really wanted to say no, placed pressure on myself to go above and beyond, or added something to my already-full plate, knowing that it would push me over the edge into burnout. In that moment, I realized that I could choose differently — both in this instance and in the future.
It felt like someone had granted me the permission to control my own fate after years of saying yes to everything by default.
I think the hardest part of saying no to something — whether it’s a request or invitation from someone else or an idea all your own — often comes after making the decision to decline. It’s the guilt and shame that follows: the feeling of letting people down, of not doing enough, of thinking “I probably could’ve just sucked it up and said yes — I would’ve found a way to make it work.” But what’s the point of reclaiming your time and energy by saying no if you’re just going to spend that free time feeling bad?
It was interesting to witness how and when my guilt showed up throughout month: I actually felt pretty good about my decision not to host a Halloween event; I had a touch of guilt when I had to close the shop for a couple of days because I got sick (but I knew it was out of my control); but then: I was totally caught off guard when my guilt kicked into full force about my lack of showing up on Instagram. It sounds silly now, but I had a surprising amount of shame around dropping the ball on social media. I kept hearing a voice say, “you own a witch shop. This is your season. You should be posting constantly, engaging your audience, running giveaways — if you can’t get your act together in October, what are you even doing?” I let that persistent inner critic convince me that I was a failure — so much so, that I actually feared returning to Instagram. I felt like I owed my followers some sort of apology or explanation as to why I had been so quiet during the time of year when I figured they’d expect me to be the most active. I was judging myself for not living up to my own (self-imposed) expectations, and then projecting that onto my audience. I assumed that everyone on Instagram thought I was a failure, and everyone who visited my shop was disappointed in me for not doing more.
That experience of shame really made me consider the type of boundary that I spend the least amount of time thinking about: my own boundaries with myself. It’s one thing to recognize and respect other people’s boundaries (noticing when someone needs space, or when they can’t take on another responsibility) and to set boundaries with others (telling someone that you’re unable to commit to something, or that you don’t feel comfortable putting yourself in a specific situation), but what about acting in accordance with your own needs and respecting your own limits? It’s harder to take our own requests seriously and to give ourselves the same grace we’d give others.
I began to realize that I ignore my own boundaries constantly: it happens every time I know that committing to something means that my health or wellbeing will take a toll, but I say yes anyway; every time I hesitantly agree to something that doesn’t feel right or align with my values; every time I put pressure on myself to take on more when I’m already at my bandwidth.
So what does any of this have to do with witchcraft? When I explain to folks what the word “witch” means to me, I often find myself bringing up things like power, autonomy, and inner wisdom. I talk about witchcraft as a practice that can help us get in touch with our intuition, acknowledge and tend to our deepest desires, and carve out our own paths. And — as I’ve learned the hard way — all of those things require boundary-setting, both with ourselves and with others. Our time and energy are finite, so we have to say no to some things in order to say yes to others.
In order to tune into our inner voice, we have to tune out other things. In order to prioritize and nurture our desires and our unique gifts, we have to turn down things that don’t align with our goals and values. In order to leave time and space to dream, rest, play, create, and take true care of ourselves, we have to practice saying no when we need to, regardless of the reason. And I think that as we learn to identify and respect our boundaries — to listen to those inner no’s and take them seriously — we get closer to ourselves. We develop a more intimate relationship with our intuition, develop trust in ourselves, and get a real glimpse of our inner power and authority.
That’s where I think so much of witchcraft and spirituality begins: understanding that we are powerful, valuable beings with a deep well of inner wisdom, free will to develop and act in accordance with our own set of values and principles, and the ability (and responsibility, really) to get to know ourselves intimately so that we can live an aligned and fulfilling life, share our gifts with the world, develop a sense of community with others, and ultimately leave this place better than we found it.
I’m happy to report that while October wasn’t the easiest month to get through, it taught me a lot: I now feel more aware of my needs and priorities, have a better understanding of how much is too much to put on my plate, and recently, I even found myself having an easier time giving a solid, straightforward no on a project that clearly wasn’t a good fit for me. I see a lot more no’s in my future, too — as I look forward to refocusing on the day-to-day responsibilities of my work and saving some free time to enjoy at home this winter — and rather than dread those moments of boundary-setting, I’m embracing them as a chance to get more comfortable saying no in order to say yes to myself. ✷