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Knot Magic by Tylluan Penry

Knot Magic ©Copyright 2014 Tylluan Penry

ISBN 978-0-9570442-8-9

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Tylluan Penry has asserted her right under the Copyright Designs and Patents Act of 1988 to be identified as the author of this work. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, scanning, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the author and the publisher. Cover Design and Illustrations by Tylluan Penry © Published by: The Wolfenhowle Press, Redcroft, Nile Road, Trealaw,Tonypandy,CF40 2 UY http://thewolfenhowlepress.com Printed by: Book Printing UK, Remus House, Coltsfoot Drive, Woodston, Peterborough PE2 9BF

Other Titles by Tylluan Penry : A Little Book of Inspirations, (Booklet in the Seeking the Green Pathways series) published by The Wolfenhowle Press 2014 Magical Nature Walks, (Booklet in the Seeking the Green Pathways series) published by The Wolfenhowle Press 2014 Sacred Shadows - Ice Age Spirituality, published by The Wolfenhowle Press 2013 The Magical World of the Anglo-Saxons, published by The Wolfenhowle Press 2012 Staying on the Old Track, , published by The Wolfenhowle Press, 2012 Magic on the Breath, published by The Wolfenhowle Press, 2011 The Essential Guide to Psychic Self Defence, published by Capall Bann 2010 The Magical Properties of Plants - and How to Find Them, published by Capall Bann, 2009 Seeking the Green, published by Capall Bann, 2008 Also ‘Eating With the Dead: Funeral Meal Practices’ in the anthology Memento Mori (ed. Kim Huggens) Avalonia Books 2012 Pagan-themed fiction for children/young adults, writing as T. P. Penry (available only as Kindle downloads) all published by The Wolfenhowle Press: The Dolly Run Stalker’s Moon Silent Night, Deadliest Night The Dead Sleep Better

About Tylluan Penry Tylluan Penry is a solitary pagan witch, independent scholar and the author of numerous books and magazine articles dealing with many aspects of magic and folklore. She has also been a popular and regular speaker at various events including Witchfest International, The Artemis Gathering, Witchfest England and Witchfest Wales, together with talks for the Pagan Federation, and at independent, private events. Her articles have appeared in a variety of publications including Witchcraft & Wicca, Myddle Earth and The Magickale Times. She is regularly consulted by the media for advice in accurately portraying witchcraft and paganism and has been interview on Radio 2. Tylluan believes very strongly in trying to help other solitaries and those just beginning on their spiritual paths. To this end she set up The Wolfenhowle Press in 2011, with the intention of making beautiful, informative and inspiring books about paganism widely available and affordable. In 2014, she set up her own YouTube Channel, Tylluan Penry at the Wolfenhowle Press which you can find here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC48MN8sa7_lFsBX9v2ZAeAg/featured Again, in keeping with the ethos of The Wolfenhowle Press, there is no advertising on these videos, just sensible advice and information, freely available to everyone. Tylluan is married, has a large family, grandchildren, many pets, an overgrown garden and a gloriously ramshackle house where she lives and dreams with Mr Penry, her love of many lifetimes, in the South Wales Rhondda Valley.

This book is dedicated with love and fond memories to my Uncle Ken (Ding Dong) who sailed the Seven Seas and taught me so much about the magic of knots

Table of Contents Chapter One

Why Knot? 1 Working with three or more ends 7

Chapter Two What sort of knots 13 Reef knot 14

Figure-of-Eight knot 17 Celtic Button knot 19 Slip Knots 19

Chapter Three Intention and Will 23 Two basic exercises for beginners 26 Honing our intention 26 Understanding how Knot Magic works 28 Magical guidelines 29

Chapter Four A few thoughts on ethics 32 Reversing and undoing spells 33

Chapter Five Using coloured threads in Knot magic 41 The earth colours 43 Red 45 Blue 50 Yellow 53 Green 54 The curious conundrum of blue, green, water... and amber 58 Purple 60 Brown 62 Grey 63 Black 64 White 66 Other colours and metallics 68 Single colours and multi-colours 69

Chapter Six Changing colours 72

Keeping spells under control 75

Chapter Seven The practical framework of Knot Magic 78 To speak or not to speak? 79 Spells and reflective writing 79 Useful utterances 81 The types of cord 84 Knitting the knots (and other methods) 87 The spell is cast... now what? 90 Storing magical supplies 91

Chapter Eight Nets and netting 93 How many knots in a net? And what types? 94 Why use a net in Knot Magic? 99 Adapting old traditions to modern Knot Magic 103

Chapter Nine Putting our spell together107 How this works 108 Planning the spell intention 109 Rituals for creating the bark solution, soaking the cords 111 The lighting of the fire ritual 111 The ritual of the first flame 114 Cutting the cords and cleansing the blade 117 Releasing or changing the colour 121 Tying the knots 121

Chapter Ten Numbers and their significance 123

Chapter Eleven Placing the knots and choosing our words 133 Choosing our words 134 To cleanse or not to cleanse? 135 Blessing the things we use in a spell 136 Do we need to believe in magic? 137 The colour of the cord 137 The purpose of the knots139

Chapter Twelve Practising our spell – the trial run 143 Tying the knots – the problem of disassociation 146 Using the breath 150 Tying the knots – when does the spell happen? Spells with beads 151 Using chants in a spell 152

150

Chapter Thirteen How to finish the spell 154 Disposing of the knotted cord 154 Disposal of bark and barking solutions 155

Chapter Fourteen Knot magic and weather 158 Recreating tying up the wind 160

Chapter Fifteen Knots in healing, protective magic, enchanted cows and Witches’ Ladders 165 Witches’ Ladders 168 Knotted lace 173

Chapter Sixteen Knotted rags, trees and healing 175

Chapter Seventeen Knots and love spells, knots and hexing Knots and divination 182 Knots and hexing 183 Creative thinking187

Bibliography Index

178

190

198

Note: This book is about Knot Magic, and not about learning to tie elaborate knots. If you want to tie a specific knot, then there are plenty of very good knot books available and many instructional videos on knot-tying on YouTube.

A word about references....

References are placed within the text of this book using the Harvard style of referencing, i.e. Author, Year, and, where appropriate, page number. This is much neater and easier than struggling to find endnotes after each chapter. If you then wish to consult the referenced work for yourself, just go to the Bibliography at the end of this book and look up the name of the author; you will find the full details given there.

Chapter One Why knot? It was inevitable I would be fascinated by knots from an early age. Quite apart from the fact that my uncle (to whom I’ve dedicated this book) was an old ‘sea-dog’ who kept the neighbourhood children entertained with his (tall!) tales of tall ships and exotic lands, ropes are in my blood. There have been rope-makers and boat builders in my family (on my father’s side) going back for centuries. Even now, the act of tying knots is enough to catapult me back into my childhood. There is something quite magical about the act of joining two lengths of string together and creating something that behaves like a single piece. Or conversely, taking a single length of string and making it behave as though it was made up of several lengths. Strangely enough though, my own talent was not in tying knots, but in untying them. Whenever anything was knotted in our house – be that string, wool, ribbon or even a necklace chain – I was always the one who was asked to ‘take a look’ and try to undo it. And I did. It was very rare indeed for me to be unable to untie something, no matter how much it resembled a bad tempered bird’s nest. Knots liked me. And in a roundabout way this provided me with the first great lesson of Knot Magic. Never tie – or attempt to tie – something that cannot be undone. There may always come a time when we need to undo them, even if we don’t believe this at the time we cast the original spell. And it’s always more difficult to undo something than to tie it in the first place! Knowing what we are doing is important not just in magic, but in most things in life. In fact, many knots are classified not just by the difficulty in tying them, but also by the difficulty in untying them, since even in the physical world, we never know when that may be necessary.

Of course, none of this is an excuse for us to tie bad knots. Knot tying is – like many things – a skill that must be learned. We may not want to undo it, we may never be tempted to undo it, but the knot itself must always be capable of being undone – just in case. Because, as with any kind of magic, we never know what surprises life may have in store. Unfortunately nowadays, many people tend to regard Knot Magic as rather childish, a bit beneath them. Yet years ago Knot Magic or ligatura as it was sometimes known, was considered such a danger that the early Church issued numerous edicts against it. Prosecutions and even executions of those who used ligatura continued quite late in our history, right into the eighteenth century in France and Scotland. So why was Knot Magic be considered dangerous? Partly because it was so simple, which is ironic considering that its simplicity is one of the reasons that makes people view it as childish nowadays. Although some knots undoubtedly require great skill, almost anyone can tie a simple one in a piece of string. With practice, we can even tie them with one hand. Knot Magic was also discreet, powerful and used easily obtainable materials. And that’s important too. We don’t need to visit special magical supply stores. A quick trip to the supermarket or local hardware shop can furnish us with everything we need i.e. a ball of string, although even that’s not essential since knots can be tied in almost anything from ribbons and rags to bandages and strands of hair! Complex or simple, knots are adept at creating illusions and deceiving us. They can make two pieces of string behave like a single length; they can appear secure yet come undone with a single tug. Some are so impossible to undo that all we can do is to cut them with scissors. In fact ‘cutting the cord’ has become a euphemism for the moment of birth, when the cord (umbilical, not cotton or hemp!) that joins a mother to her new baby is cut. Knots can also end life (think of the hangman’s noose) or preserve it (such as the knots used in climbing, sailing and in surgical stitches.) They have a curious and stirring language all their own, ‘gammoning the bowsprit’; ‘brailing up a spanker’ or ‘Standing Turk’s eye.’

Most amazing of all, knots can even tie themselves! I’m sure almost anyone reading this will have come across jewellery chains that were put away neatly only to be found to have a knot in them! Embroidery threads and sewing cotton behave in much the same way, and my mother always knotted her tacking cotton by rubbing it between finger and thumb, i.e. she never actually tied a knot in it at all although it behaved just like a knot afterwards. But the idea that yes, knots really can tie themselves came as a surprise to me, until I read about some research by two biophysicists, Dorian Raymer and Douglas Smith. These two scientists deliberately tumbled lengths of rope inside a box and discovered that even quite complex knots will form surprisingly fast and often, without any human interference whatsoever (Castelvecchi 2007:398). Further research in 2006 by Jens Eggers and his colleagues at Bristol University found that ball chains (the type used with sink plugs) could form knots when they were individually set on a vibrating dish for an average of 30 seconds. It’s no wonder therefore that people have been believing that knots are charged with some inherent and mysterious magical power for thousands of years and in all corners of the world. After all, ropes and cables must be very cunning if they can tie knots in themselves! In old Hebrew literature such as The Old Testament (Deuteronomy 18, ii and Psalm 58), an enchanter was called ḥ ober ḥ aber, meaning quite literally a man who ties magic knots (Gandz 1930:192). In ancient times it was even believed there was a knot up in the night sky. According to the ancient Greek poet-astronomer Aratus of Soli (c315-240 BCE) α Piscium, a star in the zodiacal sign of Pisces, was ‘a beautiful and great star, Which is called the Knot of the Heavens’ (de Callata ӱ 1996:1). Usually, when we tie a knot it is intended to keep something safe or in place, to stop it moving about freely. Transferring this idea to a magical mindset, we can see how tying a knot can be used in spells intended to hinder or prevent the actions of other persons, animals or even things. This is in fact

where our English word ‘spellbound’ comes from – to hold or bind a person or thing as though by magic. Tying a knot can also bind us to a specific course of action by tying the person, thing and/or action together. Conversely, to untie a knot or loosen it will remove or slacken the binding or obstruction, and therefore free the subject of the knot. This is particularly useful whenever we want to ensure there is nothing to hinder a particular event or course of action and may explain why garments and shoes were often symbolically untied before couples married or women gave birth. Magically, this operates on the basis of ‘like curing like’, or similia similibus curantur. This is often referred to as the ‘Just as... so may’ formula, linking a physical action to a magical intention. For example, ‘Just as I remove the knots in these shoelaces, so may all obstructions to the birth be undone and removed.’ This is a very old magical method and keeps within the spirit of the ‘As above, so below,’ maxim found in old magical text known as ‘The Emerald Tablet’ of Hermes Trismegistus. There are several different translations of this text, but in each you will find that point number two is very similar. However, we must not rush ahead of ourselves here. If we want to perform spells, we first need to get used to the idea of really thinking for ourselves about what we’re doing. It is no use just parroting ‘received wisdom’ without questioning it. Indeed when I was young I would end up in all sorts of trouble because I rarely did as I was told without arguing! If I understood the reasoning behind what I was being told to do then fair enough, otherwise I could be (and probably still am) really awkward. My father summed it up very well when he advised me, ‘You either have to accept authority from other people, or you have to impose the discipline on yourself. There’s really no other way. Obedience or self discipline.’ He knew even before he spoke, that I would accept self discipline over and above other peoples’ rules any day. It’s just the way I am. However, my father’s words also taught me another important magical lesson. If we want to strike out on our own, which is essentially what magic

enables us to do, then we need a strong sense of self discipline and an enquiring mind. Otherwise all we are doing is following the herd, and since there is no one-size-fits-all in magic, our work is never going to achieve its full potential. It is also important to learn to be agile in our thinking, otherwise we become confused with apparent contradictions. For example, there has been a longstanding tradition in many parts of Europe that the bride and groom at a wedding should not wear anything that requires knots to be tied, such as shoelaces etc. However, there is also a tradition of ‘wedding knots,’ a type of wedding favour that was deliberately attached to clothing and intended to bring good luck. In the seventeenth century, many brides traditionally sewed knots of coloured ribbons (known as bride favours or bride lace) onto their dresses (Monger 1975:53). Now it can be difficult to make sense of such inconsistency but it is always worth making an effort. Possibly the wedding knots were intended to confront the fear of hexing (which was known to use knots) by using knots that were created only in order to bring good luck. Thus instead of creating fear, wedding knots were put to good use and made to work for benign intentions. And this supports a basic tenet of all magic: it is never good or bad, black or white as such, but is coloured by the intention behind it. Only the intention can have – or lack – goodness, not the magic. Magic – of itself – is entirely neutral. Knot Magic is very ancient, but since it was so often tied in perishable material such as wool or even bark, most examples will have perished and anything that has survived is unlikely to be recognised for what it once was. However, a host of words connected with knots have not only survived but have entered and made themselves fully at home within the English language. For example, the word ‘knot’ derives from the Old English word cnotta, which in turn may come from an Indo European root gen- meaning ‘to

compress into a ball.’ This does make sense, since knots are generally rounded and ball shaped (Schwartzman 1996). Related native English words include knob, knuckle, knoll, knit and knotty. Knots and knot tying have entered our language and consciousness in other subtle ways too. For example, a knotty problem is something difficult to solve (or unravel!). Then there is the spot where a branch joins the main trunk creates an extra strong, circular body of wood – a knot. We talk about heartstrings, tying the knot, tying somebody up in knots and when we’re fed up we might even tell someone to ‘get knotted’! The act of tying a knot has likewise entered our everyday language. If we are in difficulties we might claim to be ‘in a bind’. Someone found guilty in Court may be ‘bound over’ to keep the peace. The binding is not literal, but the link is clear. A vow to behave has been made, and must be kept. Originally no doubt, such promises were accompanied by the tying of a knot. Now all that remains is the promise – and that rather curious turn of phrase to remind us of its true origins. Once we start looking we can find many examples of the words to bind and to loosen in the sense of to prohibit and to allow respectively. For example, in the Old Testament (Numbers Chapter 20) it states, ‘If a man vow a vow unto the Lord, or swear an oath to bind his soul with a bond...’ which may not sound connected with knots, yet a more literal translation of this passage is ‘...to tie a knot against himself’ (Gandz 1930:193). Best of all though, in my opinion, are the words ‘spellbound’ and ‘spellbinding.’ If ever we needed proof that magic and knots are bound together (the pun is intended), then there we have it! There is also the phrase ‘The bitter end’, usually meaning to stay or work together long past what most people would think of as reasonable. Yet this saying actually derives from tying knots, since the bitter end is the end of the rope that is being tied, sometimes also known as the working end. (The other end, the one that isn’t being used is called the standing end.) Even ropes and cords have entered our language with curious persistence.

Knowing the ropes means we know what’s what, and newcomers (in jobs, groups, situations etc.) often have to learn this. It almost certainly started out as a seafaring term, where learning to tie the right knot and choose the right rope for the job was essential. Ending up on the ropes however was not considered good and is a common term in boxing, suggesting that the fighter is in trouble. Being at the end of one’s rope, or the end of one’s tether denotes being utterly exhausted and/or out of options. The rope is the lifeline, and to come to its end means we can only fall.

Working with three or more ends The possibilities of knotting cords together are endless. For example, we can tie a short piece of cord in the middle of a single longer piece in order to give the appearance of three pieces being joined together, rather like the effect of a triskele, which is a shape where three arms, legs or spokes radiate from a central point.

This shape in various forms is a common theme right across the northern hemisphere. The three spokes can interlock (as in the Norse valknut) or appear relatively lifelike, as in some Celtic and Anglo-Saxon art, on Lycian coins from the Middle East and even in the three legged figure of the Isle of Man (Brown 1966:124). It may also be the basis for the images of the triple hare which occurs in many different times and places, from sixth century China to thirteenth century churches near Dartmoor.

Sketch of triple hare motif from Wissembourg, France c.1300 CE Here the three hares are apparently chasing each other, but closer inspection shows visual trickery, something totally in keeping with what we know of knots! For example, although hares have two ears, the triple hare motif shows only three instead of the expected six. These are arranged in a triangle shape so they leave an empty triangular gap at the centre. Unless the viewer is unusually observant, the missing ears tend to be overlooked and accepted as visually correct. At this point I should mention that people sometimes claim such imagery was only ever intended for decoration. This is not true particularly when they occur in churches, where every Green Man, Triple Hare and Triform Face (to mention just a few) formed part of the ‘iconography of place’. Medieval churches were built at a time when very few people could read or write, they had no way to access the scriptures, which were only available in Latin. Therefore all these the wall paintings, sculptures and carvings provided an important visual frame of reference for sermons and religious teaching. Everything that decorated a church building had an important part to play, but this is easily overlooked nowadays with our increasing reliance on the written word rather than visual images. It may be no coincidence that hares rather than any other animal were chosen for such an image since they were once widely regarded as magical creatures; one even turns up in the story of Boudicca (Cassius Dio LXII:6). The triple hare motif turns up all over the world, including the Far East. And of course

the number three appears in all types of magic, including Knot Magic. Similar visual trickery can also be noticed when we manipulate two cords. Knotting them together at one end produces something that looks and behaves like a single cord with two ends. However if we add one cord to the centre of the other, then we can end up with three or even four ends. The implication of this in magical terms is that we are moving from the two dimensional world to the three dimensional. The third (or fourth) end creates balance, just as the third leg does on a tripod. So how do we create that ‘third end’? One method is to use a hitched knot over the original line. For most magical purposes, a simple cow hitch or lark’s head will do.

Cow hitch knot Now it must be said that this type of knot is much despised amongst serious tiers of knots; it isn’t especially strong for heavy loads and can slip easily. So if we feel that ‘as above, so below’ should apply to the type of knot we use, then perhaps we should investigate something a little more challenging (but still doable) such as a clove hitch. Whatever type of hitch we use however, will almost always result in adding two extra lines, so these will need to be twisted, bound or even sewn together afterwards if we need only three cords in total. If we are aiming for all three lines to look more or less the same, we should use a much thinner cord for the hitch, so that when it is bound together it will look like the cord over which it has been tied. If the extra cord is the same width as the cord it crosses then it will look twice as thick when the two cords are bound together. This third cord gives us two important possibilities in terms of shape. Firstly

it can be made to resemble the triskele shape by laying it on a flat surface and curling each end of the three cords. Secondly, if we stretched them out on a flat surface, then the new shape will be something like a letter T or the Greek tau:

Now the tau shape is an extremely old symbol. In Ancient Egypt, after Set had dismembered Osiris and scattered his body, Isis managed to find them all apart from his penis. Subsequently Horus, the son of Isis and Osiris, is sometimes shown carrying the tau cross to symbolise his father’s missing penis. Both the Egyptians and Persians used the tau symbol on their banners, as did Moses and although early Christians often regarded it as a Jewish symbol of creation and regeneration, later they would adopt it for themselves. In the Norse tradition, a shape resembling the tau cross can also be seen in Thor’s hammer, Mjolnir. And in surprising echoes of Ancient Egypt, sometimes this form features the handle shaped like a penis, hence the tau’s association with masculinity (Healey 1977:289). These associations would make the three ended cord very useful in spells associated with any particularly male problems, or indeed with any specific male. Because of the way the third end acts as a balance, the three ended cord opens up all sorts of magical possibilities of working with Other Worlds. It allows us not only to work here and now in the present, but also to project up to the sky or down into the earth if we wish. Another interesting observation about the tau is that if we add a loop to the top it becomes the ankh, giving us yet another link with ancient Egypt. One theory is that the loop represents the rising sun while the crossbar represents the earth and the straight vertical part represents the path the sun takes as it rises up to become visible above the horizon. Yet another example of crossing between worlds.

The Ankh Of course, such crossings do not always involve a vertical line. If we placed our emphasis instead on a horizontal crossing then this could symbolise working with triform or triple faced gods or entities. The trivium was a Latin word for crossroad, literally a place where three roads met. This was always regarded as a magical and sometimes even uncanny place. Of course, crossroads may vary in appearance. A ‘Y’ shaped fork in the road is still a place where three roads meet, and we could even make a case for a T junction fulfilling the same function. In the past – and perhaps even now - people would visit crossroads in order to perform all sorts of magical rites. For example, in the late tenth/early eleventh century, pagans sometimes tied knots in bandages in order to heal their own livestock (or hex those belonging to someone else), before throwing the rags into the centre of a crossroads or hiding them in trees (McNeil 1933: paragraph 54). Although the early Christian Church did its best to discourage and prohibit such practices, they still continued for centuries. Nowadays however, the problem is not so much avoiding Church disapproval as finding a crossroad that is reasonably quiet. Unless we have access to a country lane, a knot spell using an extra cord in order to produce a third working end could be a useful alternative, and we would simply need to visualise our cord as a crossroad. Magic is nothing if not inventive!

Chapter Two What Sort of Knots? Nowadays, unless we happen to be a keen sailor or perhaps a Boy Scout or Girl Guide, our repertoire of knots is probably limited. However, Knot Magic is not just about the type of knots we tie but how we link it with our intention. We can become proficient at magical knots using just one or two, although it does help to understand a little about the process of knot tying generally. I suspect that years ago people were rather better at tying knots than we are now, simply because there were fewer alternatives. Until the coming of Velcro, elastic, press studs and zippers, etc., people relied on lacings and knots every day, just in order to dress themselves. Even a century ago, corsets, boots and gloves all required careful lacing and a final knot that would both hold firmly and be easy to release when required. Of course there was more to knots than keeping our ancestors properly dressed. Knots were – and still are – an essential aspect of seamanship, especially during the days of sailing ships. In the Middle Ages, all the scaffolding used to build the highest castles and cathedrals in Europe had to be tied together. Knots quite literally held people’s lives in their hands. Where safety is concerned, tying the right knot in the right way can be a matter of life and death. Tying strong, safe knots requires us to understand which ones to choose. We need to know about their strengths and weaknesses, and what they should – and should not – be used for. Whether we are tying knots for practical or magical purposes, this knowledge matters, since what applies in the practical world also applies in the magical one. Many people, when asked to tie a strong knot to join two pieces of rope or string together, simply tie a series of endless ‘granny’ knots one after another. This may look impressive, and will certainly be hellish to try and

undo, but from a safety point of view it is downright dangerous because in can – and often does – slip. So from a magical point of view, a knot that cannot be undone but will easily slip is not a good idea unless the spell intention needs these properties. Therefore if a granny knot is easy to tie but difficult to undo, this would make it a good choice only for a spell where there is little chance we will want to reverse it later. However do please think hard about this because I have seen so many people cast spells in haste or anger and then regret them afterwards. Never, ever, perform magic when in a rage, or brooding about a situation. We need a very clear head and a sense of calm, even serenity, in order to focus our intention properly on what we are doing and the reasoning behind the spell. And if that means we have to wait a little – hours, days or even weeks - then so be it.

Reef Knot Reef knots are often used for joining two pieces of cord together. So, using the premise of ‘as above so below’ (which, as I’ve already mentioned comes from an old text known as the Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus), a reef or granny knot could therefore be used to bring two situations – or people – together. Unlike a granny knot however, a reef knot is difficult to tie properly, and badly tied versions are known as the ‘thief knot’ or ‘grief knot’ which really says it all from a safety point of view. Although our magical knot may never be required to hold a physically heavy load, if it is physically unreliable then bear that in mind, because it may have the potential to ‘slip’ magically too. Most people – even those who cannot tell a sheep shank from a Turk’s Head knot - have usually heard of a reef knot, even if they’re not confident about tying it. It has other names too, including the Hercules and square knot. Whatever name we give it, the knot itself is extremely old. There is an example in the Louvre on a fragment of carving from ancient Egypt dating from the Sixth Dynasty, i.e. around 2200 BCE (Mariette 1889:240). The Roman author, Pliny the Elder (Natural History book 38.17) claimed that

wounds healed more quickly if they were bound up with a Hercules or reef knot. Roman brides used the same knot to tie their girdles, which their husbands had to undo on their wedding night (hence the phrase ‘tying the knot’ to denote marriage.)

A reef knot is basically formed by tying a left-handed overhand knot and then a right handed one, and on paper at least, sounds fairly straight forward. In practice however, most people end up tying a much less stable version such as a granny knot. I always have to make a great effort to remind myself what I’m doing when I tie a reef knot otherwise it ends up a mess. Some people will mutter, ‘Right over left, Left over right, Makes a knot both tidy and tight’ while they’re tying it, just to remind themselves. (And yes, in the early days I would recite that rhyme and yet still ended up with a rubbish knot!) So unless we manage to ensure that both the working ends come out either at the top or bottom, we end up with something called a ‘thief knot’ which is just as unwelcome and unreliable as its name suggests. Yet although more reliable than a granny or thief knot, even a properly tied reef knot is not particularly stable. Many a person has, alas, lost their lives due to misplaced trust in this knot! A reef or ‘square knot’ is also popular in macramé especially when tied over a couple of filler cords. (A sequence of these knots is then called a sennit). If we tie alternately, from right to left and then left to right, and so on, we end up with a straight, flat band, suitable for bracelets etc. There is plenty of information for this type of work available on the internet and in library books.

A square knot tied over filler cord However, if we keep tying always from the same side then the band twists into a spiral or half sennit. Depending on which side we keep tying from, the piece will twist clockwise (if tied from the left) or anti-clockwise (if tied from the right).

A half sennit Quite apart from the aesthetic qualities of such knots, we can also make good use of their magical properties, since certain intentions seem to be traditionally associated with turning in certain directions. For example, in order to acquire knowledge of magic, one had to turn three times anticlockwise while walking down to the sea shore and carrying seven stones (Wood-Martin 1902:59). Nowadays, this could easily be adapted so that we tie seven half sennit knots that turn anti-clockwise instead. Because this type of knotting is visually appealing, especially if we use coloured threads, it also lends itself well to being incorporated into a type of jewellery, especially if tied in a metallic type of cord. This type of knot work makes it ideal for protective and healing spells. It is also quite easy to add beads by first threading them onto the filler cords and then tying the knots around them using the outer, ‘working’ cords. Most macramé books and many websites give clear instructions for this. The advantage of adding beads, as we’ve already noted, is that they can symbolise a whole range of subjects and themes that would not be so easy if

we only use cords. Yes, we can visualise just about anything and everything, but I know many people find this difficult especially when they are just starting out. A bead that can be engraved or painted with a symbol or initial can be a useful extra addition to our magic. The biggest drawback – in my view – about many instructions for this type of macramé knotting is that we are instructed to start it off by tying it over a piece of dowelling, using two cow hitches or lark’s heads side by side.

Since I have never had any desire to try and find a magical reason for incorporating dowel rods into my Knot Magic, I instead prefer tying a simple overhand knot, using all the threads together. This leaves a small but useful loop at the top, which can be weighed down (kitchen weights or a tin of baked beans will do) or even looped over something (door handles are good provided nobody needs to go in or out while we’re working) to keep it steady. The securing knot doesn’t count in the eventual number of sennits we tie, however.

The Figure-of-Eight Knot Sometimes the shape of a knot gives us a clue about its magical application. The figure-of-eight knot (also known as the figure eight knot, the Savoy knot, the Flemish knot or the double stopper) looks just like a figure-of-eight tied in a single piece of cord. Its main purpose is to prevent a rope from running out of a retaining device, and because of this it’s always been popular in climbing and sailing. It also has the advantage of being reasonably easy to undo again.

Now if we look at the shape, the figure-of-eight – what does that tell us? What can we use it for? Well, because – in its normal, everyday use – the purpose of the figure-of-eight knot is to prevent things slipping off the end of the cord, it is perfect for magic intended to help us focus, remain grounded and even for keeping relationships, jobs and knowledge where they need to be. The figure-of-eight could therefore be a good knot to use when we are trying to hang onto something or keep it in place. So it can be used for keeping things or people safe, for helping us revise (in the sense that it can stop what we have already learned from slipping away) and also to help us hang onto things (such as staving off forced redundancies). Fortunately this is not a particularly difficult knot to master and there are plenty of instruction videos online to help us. It could make quite an effective piece of jewellery if it were tied in a thick, metallic cord either to be worn around the neck or even – in a smaller version – pinned to our clothing as a pin or brooch. When tying knots, it always helps to be imaginative in our approach. There is no reason why we should not wear magical knots as a type of jewellery if we want to. Of course, the use of the figure-of-eight shape for ‘stopping’ things has not been confined to knotted cords. Occasionally it has been made into pottery and even glass bottles. Near Hove in Sussex, one of these figure-of-eight bottles, silvered inside (like a mirror) was used to trap a ‘witch’ in the nineteenth century, and was then sealed up with a cork and brown wax. This actually is a form of ghost-laying, where the ghost or spirit (or, in the Arabian Nights stories, a genie) was contained in a bottle (or lamp.) They are found in many cultures, and in the UK seem to have been especially popular in Montgomeryshire, Shropshire and Staffordshire (Ettlinger 1943:231).

The Celtic Button Knot This is more decorative than the figure-of-eight knot, and will take some practice, but again it serves much the same function, as a ‘stopper’. As it is more complex to tie than the figure-of-eight, it is probably easiest to learn to tie it from YouTube tutorials.

Slip Knots Perhaps the unlikeliest of knots used in Knot Magic, a slip knot does have the great advantage that it can be undone almost at once, with a single tug on one end. It was apparently very popular amongst the Lapp peoples, who regarded it as lucky, especially if nine slip knots were tied on a single string and then worn around the neck. Nowadays most of us probably would not view a knot that came undone as lucky. Yet it all depends on the context. A knot that is quickly undone might easily release good luck or blessings etc., on the wearer. And this is one of the great things about Knot Magic. It is – like the cords and threads we use – endlessly flexible. But first we have to get to know it, and that means tying knots whenever and wherever we can. We have to learn to enjoy tying bows, make a point of tying parcels with string, of tying shoelaces, and yes, slip knots too, and whatever else we can think of. With any type of magic it is always important to look for the bigger picture. Yes, we could spend our entire lives tying the same knot in the same type of thread or cord and, provided our intention is focussed, we will probably do

very well. However, if we widen our scope, and consider things such as the sort of material we use, e.g., natural strings such as jute or even cotton, or manmade threads and ropes, we are able to draw upon their natural properties to help us. But remember: This works only if the imagery has meaning for us. In other words, no matter what anyone else tells us, we must personally put in the work to ensure that the symbolism of such natural properties will work for us. Nobody else can do that work for us. In all magical work it is our will and intention that determine whether or not our spell is successful (and I explain this more fully in Chapter Three). There are no innately magical knots – i.e. knots that contain magic in their own right by virtue of the way they are tied - although some will visually represent our intention better than others. So please don’t get too carried away with the niceties of knot tying. Remember: we really do not need to be master knot-tiers in order to get the most out of Knot Magic. Otherwise Boy Scouts, Girl Guides and sailors would be the most powerful magicians on the face of the earth! Also, never worry that Knot Magic will be dull and repetitive. Done well it is endlessly fascinating, colourful and challenging, not just in our choice of knots, but in the colours, thickness and number of threads we use. We can even work in extras such as beads – which themselves represent a very stylised knot. And of course many types of craft work, from knitting and crochet to netting, lace-making and macramé are all – in essence - types of knots. Even embroidery uses stitches such as French Knots to add texture and interest.

The French Knot. Many people who claim to practice magic (and not just Knot Magic) often overlook the importance of preparation in their work. For example, the choice of thread, the time taken to source a particular thread or bead, or to learn a specific knot or engrave symbols onto a bead are all part of the work and shouldn’t be left until the last minute. Although there will always be times when we have to improvise (in an emergency, for example), disorganised magic is usually best avoided. When people stand around wondering what part they have to play in a ritual or spell, or worrying what to do next, then there is something amiss. I have always been a great fan of the saying, ‘Know what you are about.’ This is particularly important for solitaries, who have nobody else to ask or fall back on when the going gets tough. Good magic normally has a wonderfully smooth, almost silken feel to it. And once we become more skilled, so the process becomes even smoother. Once we have learned to tie a new knot it becomes part of our repertoire. If we don’t use it often then yes, we might need to refresh our memory from time to time, but otherwise the more we use it, the easier it becomes. Obviously we should never concentrate on the intricacies of tying beautiful and elaborate knots at the expense of the rest of our spell. When our intention is not properly focused, our magic will either not work at all, or will work in ways we never intended. If we need an intricate knot, then we have to take the time to learn how to tie it competently beforehand. It is never a good idea to try and cast a spell with a piece of string in one hand and the instruction book in the other!

Chapter Three Intention and Will... These two words, often bandied about but rarely explained properly, often cause beginners to freeze and/or panic. This is a pity because they are a vital part of any magical work, and it is well worth taking the time to understand them. So here goes... Firstly, there is intention. All this means is, ‘That which we want to achieve.’ The purpose of our spell. For example, a love spell has the intention of promoting, gaining or keeping love, while a healing spell has the intention of bringing or restoring good health. We could just as easily say ‘purpose’ and have done with it but for some reason people don’t do that, they use the word ‘intention’ instead. It should go without saying that knowing exactly what we want to achieve – our intention – is very important. However there are still people who cast spells without any real idea what their intention is. So, rather than embark on a spell that is going to end up as little more than magical porridge, we need to work things out in our minds. We must ensure our intention is clear and unambiguous. After all, if we don’t know what we want, how can we expect our magic to work? It can’t. So, before casting a spell it makes sense to pause and clear our minds a bit. To decide exactly what it is that we want before casting anything. And always remember: We should never – ever – cast a spell until we’re absolutely certain what we want it to do. One of the most important lessons we can learn at this stage is not to confuse ‘I want...’ with ‘I don’t want.’ This may sound obvious but sometimes we are so worried about the negative side of our problems that we are in fact asking the universe to bring about the very thing we don’t want! So we

should concentrate always on an intention we want to bring about and not one we want to prevent. The second essential ingredient in magic is our will. This is another one of those words that everyone thinks they understand but few really do. Magically speaking, our will is the inner strength and conviction that underpins our intention and makes the spell work. Unless our will is properly focussed, our magic can end up being little more than poetry (or macramé in the case of Knot Magic!) Having a strong will is often confused with being stubborn or bossy. This is untrue. A strong will can help us achieve great things, even in the face of difficulty, but it has to be flexible. A will that is inflexible (the so-called ‘iron’ will) may seem strong, but like iron itself, has a tendency to be brittle and shatters when struck by something hard. The truly strong will must be flexible enough not only to bend but also to make adjustments when necessary instead of breaking into pieces. Nowadays – and perhaps it was always so, I don’t know – inner strength is usually overlooked. Our society, which worships only the flashy, the noisy and superficial, often mistakes inner strength for weakness. In fact it is quite the other way round. Inner strength is far stronger than the more obvious muscles and stubbornness. It is important, too, to remember that ‘will’ is not the effort of a few moments. It is the work of a lifetime. It is a character trait that manifests itself in determination tempered by self knowledge, honesty and above all, compassion. Luckily, it is a skill that can be learned, but it does take time and effort. Many who claim to be the possessors of an amazing will are in fact nothing of the sort, and we should always beware those who pretend that harshness and will are one and the same. They are not. Will without compassion usually transforms into magical brutality. So, how do we develop our will? Firstly by looking within as honestly as we know how. There we must try to pinpoint and understand our inner strengths

and weaknesses. Where do they come from? How do we use/abuse them in everyday life? Do we need to change this? Unfortunately many people fear this type of work, believing (wrongly) that admitting how and why they are sometimes weak will lead to an even greater loss of will and strength. This is nonsense. By understanding our weaknesses – how, when and why they happen – we can learn to correct and then turn them into strengths. However, it can be a stressful, difficult and sometimes painful road to travel. We should always remember that nobody is weak in every aspect of their life. Even if we suffer from a combination of physical, emotional and/or mental weakness, we will have some strength, no matter how inconsequential it may seem to be. Some people have to cope with dreadful illness or disability, and their great strength is in doing so day after day. Others cope with caring for relatives, often without any thanks, and doing without things that others would take for granted. That too, is real strength. Never mind that others may think us weak. We just need to dig down – as deep as needs be – until we find some small kernel of strength within us. Then we nurture it, care for it, show it appreciation, until it begins to grow. Finally we realise how that tiny nugget of strength is starting to permeate our life and gradually strengthening other aspects of our character. One of the most common problems people have with their will is in getting it to focus properly. This is can affect both groups and solitaries. In fact, I suspect that in a group there is less incentive to fix the problem, since people tend to rely on those around them to make up their own shortfall in focus. This is a mistake since each and every one of us has to take responsibility for our own will. Relying on others because we simply cannot be bothered is laziness, and in the long term will weaken and distort the group dynamic. Indeed, if enough people take this approach, the group will eventually fall apart and dissolve. Although focusing our will requires concentration, this can only work if we first clear away the emotional baggage that each one of us carries within.

Make sure to get rid of the inner voices that tell us nothing can be done, chipping away at our self confidence (I often call these our Inner Tormentors). This is not a one-off exercise either. Every so often we can all benefit from spring cleaning our heads! If we have a lot of mundane things to do - such as household chores - before casting a spell, try and get as many as possible out of the way first. Sometimes, despite our best efforts, our magic seems to grind to a halt. It becomes difficult, unreliable, and we start looking for excuses not to do it. The best solution then is to pause and retrace our steps until we find a point where we do feel comfortable, even if it’s very basic stuff. Then we start working (and learning) all over again. Of course some people do not like the idea of going backwards, mistakenly regarding it as sign of failure or weakness. But really there is nothing wrong with it, and it’s better than becoming so disheartened that we give up completely. By going back to a comfortable base, we can recover our confidence in casting spells, while at the same time continuing with our magical studies and gradually improving. So I hope you can see that by cultivating and strengthening our will, we are giving our spells the very best chance for success. This is far more important than worrying what colours to use, or whether we tie a knot clockwise or anti-clockwise. Will and intention are everything in all types of magic. The rest comes later.

Two basic exercises for beginners The following exercises are useful when we are starting out, although they can also provide a useful refresher for the more experienced, especially if we have reached a stage where our magic is becoming a little stale. The purpose of this first exercise is to remind us that intention is central to each and every spell.

Honing our intentions Exercise 1 When we’re starting out it can be helpful to come up with a few basic intentions that we’re likely to need more than others. Most people’s lives

focus on a few recurring themes that keep on cropping up over the years. For example, we might need to resolve family or relationship tensions, secure a good education for ourselves or for others, or find a good and rewarding career. Obviously everyone will have different priorities, so it’s a good idea at this point to write down what we want to have happen in our lives. Sooner or later these will become our spell intentions of the future. Remember though, that we are not writing an essay, and should just aim for a few lines per intention and no more. At this stage, we don’t have to actually cast the spell – this is simply an exercise in sharpening the definition of our intentions. We must make ourselves very clear, as though we’re explaining our spell to someone else. It’s important not to take this stage for granted, which means explaining everything we want honestly – even to ourselves! For example, if we want good weather for an important event then we should say so. We shouldn’t go harping on about balance just because we feel that’s what we ought to be asking for, otherwise there is always a good chance the cosmos will grant this to the letter and we’ll get wind and rain along with the sunshine. I know many people feel uncomfortable with the whole idea of ‘self interest’ in magic but to be honest much of our lives is driven by this very subject anyway and we hardly even notice it. For instance, we would not normally go into a shop and deliberately choose a damaged piece of clothing at full price, would we? Yet when it comes to magic we tend to do just that. We feel – for whatever reason – that it’s somehow wrong to ask for what we really want. And then we’re surprised when the spell either doesn’t work at all, or if it does, that we don’t like the result. So - there is nothing wrong with a little self interest in our magic. It only becomes a problem when it totally rules our lives, and we are prepared to do anything in order to get our own way. Returning to the exercise, once we’ve

written down our intention, we need to go back, re-read and whittle it down to a single line without losing any of the essential meaning of the intention. Finally – and this may take several attempts, so please don’t panic – try to further reduce the single line down to no more than three words. It’s not really difficult as exercises go, and it will become easier with practice. These words don’t have to form a sentence or connect with each other. Sometimes they work best as a springboard or mind map to stimulate our magical thinking. The purpose of this exercise is to enable us to express our intentions accurately and concisely. There is always the temptation to go in for flowery language in our spells, but if we cut things right back to the magical bone, we’ll find everything becomes much clearer in our minds. And once our minds are clear, they can focus better. This skill of honing our intention is essential in all types of magic, from the high and ceremonial type of ritual through to folk magic. Of course, there is such a thing as beginner’s luck, but I wouldn’t recommend relying on this to achieve the desired result every time! And yes, no matter how hard we try, there will always be times when we don’t get it right. However, with practice we will eventually learn to cast spells efficiently and accurately. And that, after all, is what a good spellcaster should do. One word of warning however – please don’t be tempted to do this exercise the other way around, or omit the initial work of describing what you want in a few lines. Do not look for the three words first – they come at the end, as a result of the previous groundwork of thinking about our intention. We never cheat magic, only ourselves.

Understanding how Knot Magic works. Knot Magic works by using knots to ‘tie’ or fix the intention into the spell. And because it’s very visual and tactile, it’s an excellent method if we work alone because the physical action of tying the knot helps keep us focussed.

All the robes, athames and ceremonial swords in the world cannot compensate for a magician whose mind keeps wandering while he or she works! Exercise 2 It is important to learn how to tie a knot while concentrating on an intention, magical or otherwise. Concentrating while tying shoelaces, a tie or even a bow on a parcel can all serve as useful exercises for developing this skill. So instead of simply tying things unthinkingly, take a moment to tie them while saying to yourself why you are tying them. For example, ‘I am tying this bow to make Jane’s birthday present look pretty,’ or ‘I am tying my shoelaces so that I don’t trip over when I walk.’ This isn’t magical of course, but it is mindful. And in Knot Magic we will need that mindfulness as we tie each knot. As we become better at tying everyday knots while being mindful, we may also discover where our own talents lie in this particular type of magic. For example, those who have spent years in the Boy Scouts or Girl Guides, may be able to tie knots that visually display their magical intentions. They may understand the physical properties of each and every knot and have quite an extensive repertoire at their disposal. Someone whose knot tying skills are more limited however, will need to focus more on the magical intention, perhaps doing some mental and magical gymnastics in order to make the knot fit the intention. Either method will work, provided we can muster the appropriate will, intention, focus, and concentration.

Magical Guidelines Within magic – no matter what tradition we use - there is no single set of rules. We could close this book now and carry on doing Knot Magic in our own way, and, provided we understood what we were doing and why, we would probably still get good results. However, although it’s fine to work instinctively, we will achieve better and more consistent results if we can understand why we do what we do, and

what is essential in order for it to work. If our spells keep missing their mark it can be very discouraging so we should aim to minimise this risk whenever possible. I am often asked how we can decide whether a spell is necessary or not. Of course there will always be times when, having thought things over, we decide that maybe this time we won’t cast a spell after all. And this is not failure, just common sense. Sometimes magic is not the answer! However, for some people there is never a right time to cast a spell. These are procrastinators, and over the years I’ve become convinced that many would prefer never to cast a spell at all. They are frightened to do anything, and conversely they also fear not doing anything. Instead they endlessly theorise about magic, the appropriate moon phases and correspondences, etc., but they never actually do anything about it. This wouldn’t matter so much if they confined their opinions to themselves, but unfortunately they often set out to convince others that casting spells is to be avoided whenever possible. In my own magical work, the solution has been to find some sort of guideline for magical working. My favourite is the saying, ‘As above, so below,’ which I have already discussed earlier in this book. Although the Emerald Tablet cannot be proved to be as ancient as its name suggests, that particular statement (it’s number two in the text) is extremely sensible, i.e. that which happens in the real, everyday world is reflected above, or in other worlds (including magical ones). Conversely, that which happens in other worlds is reflected here, in our daily lives. A sobering thought indeed. For example, if we cast a spell and someone gets hurt, that’s just as much our responsibility as if we had gone up and punched them on the nose. We cannot simply shrug off responsibility by claiming that ‘Oh, that’s just magic,’ as though somehow the magical and physical worlds are completely divorced from each other. They’re not. Like it or not, our spiritual and everyday lives must – and always do - reflect each other to some extent. So bear it in mind... As above, so below. It should also go without saying that we should always check the facts of a situation before casting our spell. This applies especially if we are asked to

perform a spell for somebody else. In my experience friends, relatives and acquaintances can be extremely economical with the truth when they ask for such favours. And of course, it’s no good casting first and asking questions afterwards. Even if we have to wait in order to get the information we need, it’s better to delay than rushing off and casting a spell that later might require modifying or worse, undoing. If we do have to work a spell immediately, without having been able to check the facts for ourselves, then the best thing is to perform a ‘holding’ spell. This is intended only to temporarily deter, causing the person at the centre of the spell to hesitate, or to stall the situation briefly. We can do that by tying a single knot, while noting our intention to return to the spell again later. We can even tie the knot a little slacker than usual, making it easier to undo if we have to. This is not an ideal situation of course, but sometimes this sort of holding spell is going to be the best we can do in the circumstances. We should always make sure however that we come back to it and finish it appropriately afterwards. A permanently unfinished holding spell does nobody any favours! Now, for the sake of argument, let us suppose we have made up our minds to cast a spell using Knot Magic. What exactly are we going to use? And how are we going to do it?

Chapter Four A few thoughts on Ethics Once we’ve made up our mind to cast a spell using Knot Magic, and worked out precisely what our intention is, we are faced with a series of choices. The first and most obvious is finding suitable cord for tying the knots. String, twine and rope are all very popular, although in the past people have used twigs, ribbons, rags and even strips of bark. For example, a Babylonian tablet (No. IX) in the British Museum for a healing spell suggests tying knots in plaited cedar bark: Take cedar... and Plait a triple cord ... and Tie twice seven knots and Perform the Incantation of Eridu and Bind the head of the sick man, That the evil Spirit, the evil Demon, may stand aside, And a kindly Spirit, a kindly Genius be present. (Thompson and Lyall, 1904:85) Tying knots in twigs and strips of bark is not really so strange when we remember that the place where a twig or branch joins the main trunk produces a ‘knot’ in the wood. However, unlike knots in string, those growing in wood are permanently fixed and can never be removed. The idea of using knots that do not actually require tying is an interesting option and in the past, knots in wood were often considered magical. At one time there was a popular tradition of carrying an elder stick with three, five or seven knots upon it in order to prevent rheumatism (Latham 1878:39). Presumably it must have been quite short in order to carry it comfortably in a pocket or perhaps tucked into one’s belt. As with the Babylonian example above, we see the importance of magical numbers, three and seven being common to both spells. Putting an elder stick in one’s pocket is rather like carrying the right fore-foot of a hare – another old tradition, again to prevent rheumatism.

The elder stick tradition, with its implication that a type of Knot Magic can be performed without physically tying any knot opens up a whole realm of imaginative possibilities from woodwork to textile printing, Celtic knot patterns, tattoos etc. These could all incorporate Knot Magic if wished. Indeed, many of the suggestions that follow in this book could easily be adapted for working with these two and three dimensional knots that we never physically tie. The only proviso I would make about using this type of ‘ready-made’ knot is that because they are in effect, permanent, they should only ever be used for intentions we will never, ever want to reverse.

Reversing and undoing spells Before casting a spell, we do need to look briefly at this vexed question of performing a spell that can never be undone. If we have reached the stage where we feel a spell is necessary, then we almost certainly feel it is going to be permanent at least at the time of casting. Unfortunately, life being what it is, sometimes a situation will change, and we later feel that the spell needs modifying, or even reversing. Normally I don’t recommend reversing spells since there is too much opportunity for error and often we just end up with a bigger mess than we started with. If we suspect a spell might need reversing or modifying at some point then it’s better either to leave well alone and not cast, or to cast a spell that just covers part of the problem, the part we are certain is irreversible. However, I do accept that sometimes reversals can be necessary due to unforeseen changes in circumstances. This is why I always recommend keeping precise notes of any spells we cast. If it becomes essential to undo the spell at a later date, then at least we know exactly what was done in the first place in order to reverse or undo it. Remember though that even with the best kept notes in the world, we may still have forgotten some small but important detail. Of course, the best remedy is never to cast a spell unless we are certain we wish it to be permanent. That means never casting in anger, rage and certainly not while under the influence of alcohol or drugs. Although anger

can fuel a spell very effectively, the best magic is always performed with a clear head. Magical regrets make for very uncomfortable bedfellows. We should also try to avoid casting spells too soon after the event that prompts them. This is one of the problems with hexing: the spells are often (though not always) cast at moments of great emotional stress or anger soon after the affront was given. When we cool down a bit, we realise that perhaps we overreacted or at least, that a more well- thought out and temperate response was needed. So instead we should try proceeding with a little caution in our spells. Recognise, right from the outset that we need to take time and think about what we really want to do, the pros and cons, the whys and wherefores and all the other clichés we can think of! In my experience, once we do this, our spells often end up being quite different from what we originally envisaged and all the better for it. I don’t mean we should agonise for days and days about spell casting - far from it - but we should have a structure of thought in which to work. And this is all part of the preparation for the spell work. For example, a general framework or checklist might look something like the following: 1. Is there anything practical (i.e. not magical) that I can do about this situation? This should always be our first step. Unpleasant situations often arise because of a breakdown in basic communications. Sometimes all that is necessary to resolve things is for people to start talking to each other again. A phone call or email may work better than magic – at least as a first stage towards resolving things. Often magic is not necessary because there are other, practical things we can do. Also it is common sense that some spells will never work unless we help them along. A spell to help us get a job is unlikely to have much effect unless we actually create our CV, fill in application forms and attend interviews. Magical effort should always be underpinned by physical, mental or emotional work wherever possible.

The idea that magic still needs a bit of a helping hand from us is sometimes frowned upon, with some people still insisting that magic must stand or fall alone without any human help. This smacks of what I call a hair shirt philosophy, where everything must be made as difficult as possible in the belief that this is somehow better for us. In my opinion this is nonsense. There is no virtue in making our lives – magical or practical – more difficult than necessary. In fact, doing so only drains our energy, purpose and focus. Instead I believe we owe it to ourselves to do everything possible to try and help our magic along. Think of it as opening doors so that the magic can pass through. 2. What exactly am I hoping to achieve? Here we return to our old friend, Intention. Clarity of intention is essential in all types of magic. We have to focus on our primary intention and then hang on as though it’s a lifebelt, at least until we’ve finished casting our spell. It is all too easy to lose sight of our basic magical intention, especially when our emotions are involved. So, before casting any spell, we should take a deep breath, step back and try to see things objectively. It’s not just about how a situation seems to us, it’s about seeing the whole, the reality. Otherwise it’s a bit like trying to play cricket while wearing a blindfold. Casting a spell while in a foggy state of mind will only result in a mess even if our intentions are good. For example, we may be angry because a friend’s partner is abusing her. Our first reaction is to create a spell to punish him. However, on reflection, we might decide it’s more important to act practically to help our friend and get her out of harm’s way. So we might decide to cast a spell to keep her safe, and prevent her partner from finding her. That would require a spell for concealment rather than punishment. In situations such as this, where the focus of the spell shifts (and it’s surprisingly common) we need a very clear intention. Otherwise the residual anger could make us end up performing a spell that punishes our friend and conceals her abuser!

3. Are there any unforeseen consequences to my intended spell? We would all like to be able to answer ‘No’ to this question every single time. Unfortunately there are always occasions when we encounter unexpected consequences. Some are trivial, others more serious. The best way to avoid them is by thinking things through before casting. For me, the best solution is to think of it as a maze type of puzzle where we have to work our way from the outside to the centre. When I was still quite young I realised it was much easier to start from the inside and then work my way outwards. And in a way this is what we do in magic – start with the central problem and work towards a solution. Exercise: You have a problem you want to solve using magic. Draw a circle about 5 cm in diameter on a piece of paper, and write your problem in the centre of the circle. Now draw a series of much small circles as far from the central circle as you can. It should look a bit like a planet surrounded by its moons. With the problem at the centre, each small circle represents a spell we could cast in order to solve the problem. Will it work? Are there any unforeseen problems? If so, stop and move on to the next small circle and start again. This lets us mentally try out one type of spell intention after another and test each against the central problem. This sounds almost childish, I know. But it is a very visual exercise, rather like a mind-map, and serves much the same purpose. As we grow older we tend not to use visual imagery as much, which is a pity since being able to visualise is such an important part of magic. Actually, doing puzzles is an excellent way to sharpen up our magical thinking. They all seem to free up something in the mind which in turn helps clear our heads for our magical work. Personally I believe it is because it gives the conscious mind something to concentrate on, freeing up the subconscious to deal with other, more esoteric matters. At this point I think I should explain my own, personal beliefs on the subject of ‘harming none.’ I’ve never found it a helpful guide, since everything we do has consequences

somewhere along the line. Trying to avoid harming everyone is not really a viable option. Also, if we restrict ourselves unreasonably we end up feeling we can never perform a spell without first obtaining specific permissions, harming none and avoiding all personal gain. This is nonsense and usually results in our being afraid to perform any spells at all. I’m not sure where such ideas originated, but they seem to have arrived on the magical scene relatively recently. Certainly they were unknown when I was growing up, when magic tended to be less concerned with such matters. I feel that what is needed here is some balance. Magic intended only to bring us money will eventually do so at the expense of other things such as relationships or health (our own or that of other people). And, surprisingly, magic intended only to bring us good health will do so at the eventual expense of things like money. Too many spells for others will drain us. Too many for ourselves will make us self-centred. The answer therefore is to balance things out. If spells for our own good health are our priority at the moment, then we could balance them a bit with spells to maintain or improve the health of others. Sending out healing or blessings for others is fine but only up to a point; we still need to ask for things for ourselves. And of course it stands to reason that nobody should ever try and perform magic all day, every day. Taking a break will improve our magic no end! Returning to the subject of harming none, I am not convinced the statement was ever intended to be interpreted in the way that many modern neo-pagans do. For a start, it is a part of the Wiccan Rede, aimed solely at those following the Wiccan path, and not all pagans do this by any means. The original line, ‘Eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfil, An it harm none do what ye will’ is really nowhere near as old as has been claimed for it, despite claims that it is ancient and/or traditional. However, the sentiments behind this caution to avoid harm, are indeed probably much older.

Of course, many spiritual traditions have maxims designed to encourage better behaviour in their followers. Some, such as the Judaeo-Christian faiths, even have Commandments. However, pagans are not subject to these, and I must admit I get rather annoyed when people tell me that I must be bound by something that really only applies to people following a very different path. Even whether the quote is simply offering advice or more mandatory is widely disputed. The word ‘Rede’ originally meant counsel. The AngloSaxon King, Ethelred the Unready was originally Ethelred the Redeless, meaning that he had no advice or wisdom worth having. When I was growing up, my family tradition of witchcraft taught that ‘Wishes and curses are like old hens, they always come home to roost.’ In other words, everything we do magically has the potential to come back and cause us problems. For me this has been a much better maxim because it casts the net of cause and effect so much wider. Far too many people wander through life happily believing that as long as they ‘do good’ then nothing bad will happen. This is nonsense. Almost everyone has had experience of something that starts out as a good turn yet ends up having disastrous consequences. Sometimes anyone with a bit of sense could have anticipated them but sometimes they catch us unawares. A good example of this is the story of Henry Tandey, the most decorated British private soldier in World War I. He won various medals, including the Victoria Cross, and was wounded several times. Although he didn’t mind killing the enemy in battle, he always tried avoid killing the wounded, the unarmed, or those who were running away. Near the end of the war he had almost shot a wounded German soldier, but – true to his code – let him go (Johnson 2014). Tandey was to learn many years later that the soldier he had spared was none other than Adolph Hitler, and it haunted him for the rest of his life. Could he have prevented World War II with a single shot? This is a classic example of an act of compassion with entirely unforeseeable – yet still devastating – consequences.

If we ask ourselves whether Henry Tandey did the right thing, what are we to say? Hitler’s later career was entirely his own choice. Besides, it may well have been that in battle, Private Tandey (or indeed, someone else) had killed another soldier with an even greater capacity for ruthlessness than Hitler. We shall never know. The important thing here is realising there are no easy answers. If Henry Tandey had killed a wounded soldier, then it would have gone against his own principles, and that, too, would probably have haunted him for the rest of his life. We face similar dilemmas all the time in our practical, everyday lives, although hopefully on a smaller scale. We also face them whenever we decide to cast a spell. Even the kindest, most compassionate action has the potential to go horribly wrong, and the best we can manage is to factor this understanding into our magic. That way, even if things don’t go as planned, we can work to put them right. This is the reason I’ve avoided adopting the pose of the stern schoolteacher here. The truth is that we are faced with such dilemmas every day, and most of us find a way to resolve them somehow. And if we can’t then we just have to live with it and do the best we can. As above, so below. Therefore instead of agonising too much about avoiding harm, I think it is always better to focus on doing the best we can in the circumstances. We are not, and never can be, all-knowing. Nor should we expect it of ourselves – or of others. In the example above, Private Tandey had his own moral code. It was a good one, and he stuck to it. There was no way he could have known what would happen to those he spared. Some may have gone on to save lives and do good. Others, like Hitler would cause the deaths of millions. However, what those soldiers did with their lives afterwards was entirely their own choice. It was a classic example of wishes and curses being like old hens and coming home to roost. When we use magic to resolve a situation, we too have to live by our own

moral code otherwise we end up with a sort of magical anarchy. Sometimes we may be required to wait and be patient, other times we may have to grab the situation by the scruff of its neck and act quickly. Magic is not just about casting spells. It is about building the ethics and philosophy that go with it. It’s the work of a lifetime, not a few minutes playing with a magic wand and a couple of candles. So my advice is to train ourselves to develop and work with a basic framework – our own moral code - because this allows us to run through all the pitfalls quickly, like a checklist. It still surprises me how many people will cast a spell they do not really believe will work. For me, this is akin to marrying someone we do not truly love. It is yet another reason for us to plan spells, and spend time thinking before casting. That is always the stage when the more obvious weaknesses and potential pitfalls will come to light. We are always free to make changes and indeed we should do so when we feel they’re necessary, because this is how we remain true to ourselves. And unless our magic is authentic, we will always be swimming upstream and wasting precious energies as a result. Half-hearted magic is worse than no magic at all. But for now, we have to attend to more practical matters...

Chapter five. Using Coloured threads in Knot Magic

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lthough it is possible to work using the same one or two types of knot and natural threads such as cotton or jute, if we incorporate coloured threads we can bring the symbolism of colour into our Knot Magic. However, although it is interesting to learn the traditions of each colour, we need not feel too firmly bound by them. They are not written in stone. For example, people are no longer so superstitious about brides wearing green whereas even when I was young it was viewed as a bringer of bad luck. So if we prefer to use colours that have relevance for us, that’s fine too. The word ‘colour’ probably derives from the root word cal, which comes from the Indo Germanic skal or skar, meaning to cover or conceal. It is related to the Latin verbs celare (to hide) and occulere (to cover). So the original purpose of colour was to provide a layer of concealment to obscure something (or someone’s) true nature. In this respect it is interesting that the Greek word for colour is χρώμα (chroma) which is turn is from the same root as χρώς (chros) meaning skin (Price1883:6). When we look at coloured threads it is also important to remember that colours have different meanings in different places. For example, white is the colour of mourning in much of Asia, whereas in the west, black is worn instead. And while brides in the west often wear white, in the Indian subcontinent many wear red. However, quite apart from cultural traditions, I do not believe there is any single ‘right’ meaning for colours. For a start we do not all see it the same way. In my own family there were some pretty spectacular examples of colour blindness, and my own eye problems mean that I view colour quite differently depending on which eye I use. Even without such physical problems, colour is still a highly subjective matter and different people have different reactions to it.

Sometimes this reaction is rooted deep in painful memories. For example, we may dislike a colour based on something that happened when we wore it. We may have had an accident, or lost our job, etc., and as a result we avoid it in future. If we are superstitious enough then wearing it will often become a self fulfilling prophecy by attracting more bad luck – a kind of magic by default, if you like. So if our reaction to a colour is strong enough, it will probably dictate how we use that colour magically even if that use is not traditional. Its power lies only in our reaction to it. And that’s fine. I cannot see any point in trying to work with a colour that does not evoke the right response in us. It is a waste of energy. So, if we feel, for example, that the colour red is associated with love and we want to perform a spell about love, then a red cord will probably do well for us. If however we just do not like red, or consider another colour is better for our spell then we should use that instead. Consider this old saying:

Blue is true Yellow’s jealous, Green’s forsaken, Red’s brazen, White is love And black is death! (Heather 1948:165) Do any of those lines ring true for you? They don’t for me (especially ‘Green’s forsaken’ since it happens to be my favourite colour). My point here is that if these meanings do not work for us then we are under no obligation to use them – even if they are traditional! Whether we are consciously aware of it or not, colour symbolism is all around us. Certain colours are chosen to convey certain information. Red, for example, usually signifies danger which is why it’s used for stop signs and as the ‘stop’ signal in traffic lights where its message is basically, ‘Do not pass, danger ahead.’ Green, on the other hand, is more ambiguous. In traffic signals it means ‘Go,’ and therefore ‘It is safe.’ And this is possibly why marketing companies have seized upon green when they want to market organic or environmentally friendly products. Yet back in the early 1960’s, the colour green was considered the kiss of death to food marketing! It just shows how ideas can change. The idea therefore that it is our own, personal response to a colour that creates its magical power is quite reasonable. However, there are times when we might need a spell for a situation we’ve never had to deal with before, and at such times it can be useful to know what the appropriate colour might have been in local folk magic. At least it could be a pointer in the right direction. Please don’t feel you have to memorise the following colour meanings. Eventually most of us settle into our magical ways and learn to sense what is required instinctively. However, we should never assume that we know it all. A good witch never loses her ability to keep on learning, no matter how

old or experienced she happens to be.

The Earth Colours Years ago, before the advent of synthetic dyes, most colours were created from minerals, plants and sometimes insects. Plant dyes produce mostly what today we would call ‘earth colours’ e.g., the rich ochres and soft tweedy colours. More vivid colours, such as ultramarine were created from minerals such as lapis lazuli while scarlet was made from an insect, Kermes echinatus. Such colours were extremely expensive and scarce, usually reserved for illuminated manuscripts or for the robes of wealthy nobles and kings. Nowadays of course, a huge range of colours is widely available, and even those that were once so rare and expensive have been replicated (more or less) with chemical dyes. We might be forgiven for thinking therefore that the modern world is far more colourful than that of our medieval ancestors. Yet looking around, we seem to have become a very dreary lot, with the same drab colours appearing again and again. This may well be just a temporary trend, but it is still a pity considering so many wonderful shades are easily available nowadays. Of course colour – even in the natural world - is very much what we make it. And when we mark the passing of the seasons in the pagan and heathen festivals, we often opt to do so with the most brilliant colours available. For example, the bright golds, coppers and oranges of Samhain, or the red, gold and green of Yule. Embroidery, crochet, macramé and woollen threads probably offer us the widest range of shades and are reasonably inexpensive. A range of embroidery threads are often available as a packet of assorted colours. The only drawback I have found with embroidery threads (I used to call them silks, but nowadays real silk threads are expensive and difficult to obtain) is that they are a little slippery and not really suitable for tying anything but the simplest of knots. Still, a combination of colour and simple knot work can produce a magical force to be reckoned with and it is easy to combine one or two colours to make the most of their magical properties.

A word of advice here though – it’s best to avoid putting together a veritable rainbow of colours since their meanings will probably cancel each other out. Instead we should concentrate on just one or two colours, at least until we feel more confident. If embroidery threads are the right colour yet too fiddly for tying knots, then one alternative is to use them to create embroidery knots such as French Knots. These have the great advantage of being almost impossible to detect as anything other than a piece of embroidery. It doesn’t have to be a masterpiece, a simple flower or some cross stitch with some French knots would do perfectly well. Also it enables our magic to be easily concealed – if that is what we wish. Another easy to conceal ‘thread’ is a ribbon. At one time ribbons were a popular addition to hair and clothing. Think of poor Bob Cratchitt’s wife in Dickens’ Christmas Carol ‘dressed out but poorly in a twice-turned gown, but brave in ribbons, which are cheap and make a goodly show for sixpence.’ Even when I was young, I had to tie my long hair back with black ribbon (and only black) when I went to school. So using ribbons in Knot Magic offers us perfect concealment for times when ribbons are going to be used anyway. Now it is time to consider individual colours and how we might be able to use them in our magic...

Red Red is a colour that most of us with normal colour vision will easily recognise and is one of the three primary colours (the other two are yellow and blue). Yet pure red is a fairly uninteresting colour. Think of the red ink cartridge in a printer – hardly inspiring, is it? It only becomes interesting when other colours: yellow, blue and even opaque white are added in minute amounts. Then it can appear as anything from dull brick and earth colours, through shades tinged with blue or yellow, right up to the most brilliant crimson and scarlet. Likewise red’s symbolism can vary. Back in the day when true scarlet and

crimson could only be obtained from insects, the colours were so expensive that their use was reserved as a status symbol for the elite and for important religious ritual. This happened even in prehistoric times, such as the example of red woven fabric in a high status Neolithic burial in a cave at Adaouste in Southern France (Barber 1992). Therefore, armed with this knowledge we might decide to reserve brilliant, red threads (even if these were obtained using modern chemical dyes) for special occasions in Knot Magic. Bright red (and pink) are also associated with love. In early February shops are full of the colour for Valentine’s Day, while in India, as we’ve noted, brides wear beautiful red saris. But before rushing to note down that red symbolises love, we must remember the other interpretations too. For example, years ago a ‘scarlet woman’ was someone who indulged in sexual activity outside of marriage. (Curiously, there seems to have been no equivalent for a ‘scarlet man’ though!) This association of red with sin is supported in famous Biblical quotes such as Isaiah 1.18: ‘...though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.’ Yet the same Old Testament contradicts this statement in Proverbs 31:21 where the household of virtuous women are ‘...clothed all in scarlet.’ One effect of this type of ambiguous thinking is that we end up – whether we realise it or not - feeling confused. We have never been encouraged to really think for ourselves, only to absorb platitudes and ‘received wisdom.’ Instead of giving up, I believe we should look always for the bigger picture, and see what makes sense to us. Although many of the ‘earth’ reds tend to be dull, terracotta shades, the natural world can also provide us with much brighter ones. Some berries, for example, are the most brilliant shades of scarlet and crimson. Although they only last for a short season, many of their magical properties were believed to exist in the wood of the plants that produced them, such as rowan, hawthorn and wild roses.

For example, years ago, dairymaids sometimes carried crosses made of rowan wood and tied with red wool to prevent their milk from turning sour. Here the red wool symbolises the red rowan berries (that would have been unavailable most of the year) while the rowan wood represents the power within the plant itself. In practical terms therefore, we could adapt this, using either rowan berries as beads on a red thread, or rowan bark or even a piece of rowan twig with a red thread tied around it. We may have no interest in whether or not the milk turns sour, but the spell could easily be adapted to preserve the status quo and prevent change, which is essentially what the milkmaids were doing with their milk. Red’s popularity as a warning made it a natural choice not only for road signs but also military uniforms (an old nickname for the English army was ‘Redcoat.’) So we could use red in any spell designed to stop or drive something back, or to prevent a potentially dangerous situation. This could be very effective especially if combined it with a figure-of-eight knot. The colour red has traditionally been used in many areas, especially in ‘Celtic fringe’ countries such as Scotland, Ireland and Wales, to protect against enchantment from fairies or ‘witches.’ One remedy, especially popular amongst farmers in the Highlands of Scotland and parts of Ireland, was to tie a piece of red wool or a red rag around a cow’s tail. This prevented it from being enchanted, so that it could not be magically milked during the night. Although we are not told what type of knot was used, nor whether any charm was spoken, this shows us nevertheless how the colour red was used protectively. From this we can also see that red would be a good colour to use in various spells for psychic self defence, especially when combined with an appropriate ‘stopping’ knot such as the figure-of-eight. People are sometimes surprised to discover that red was often associated with Fairyland. Nowadays we tended to think of it being associated with green, but centuries ago, the Fairy Folk were supposed to favour both red and green for their clothing.

Personally however, I would not recommend casting spells that involved the Gentle People (another name for the Fairy Folk and one that seems more agreeable to those that frequent my own garden). Their magic is their own, and although it is possible for us all to live amicably together, I suspect they would not appreciate being made the subject of our spells. The colour red has also entered our language to denote confusion. So we find sayings such as ‘That was a red herring,’ meaning something intended to lead us astray and away from the truth. Therefore red threads could be used in spells intended to obscure others’ view of what is really going on around them. It would make the colour very useful in matters of magical secrecy and concealment. Like many spell intentions, secrecy and concealment are neither good nor bad as such. We should not fear that they will in some way compromise our own personal ethics. They won’t. The devil is always in the detail. Secrecy and concealment can certainly cause harm it is true, but they can also prevent it. For example, suppose someone was trying to hide from an abusive or unkind family member. In everyday life, this would be quite understandable and we would, I hope, try to help them perhaps by preventing the unkind family member from knowing where the other person was hiding. In much the same way therefore, using red cords to cause confusion and obscure things can be perfectly acceptable since this is what we might do – with the best of intentions – in our everyday lives. It’s really all a question of using common sense and avoiding a knee-jerk reaction to certain types of spell. It is the individual spell that should concern us, not some vague idea of type or category. The colour red has also entered our consciousness with regard to money. We use phrases such as ‘I’m in the red’ (meaning to be overdrawn or in debt) without even thinking of the colour. In this particular example, it comes from the use of red ink in book-keeping many years ago, where it was used denote being overdrawn.

Therefore, for the purposes of Knot Magic intended to get us out of debt, we could use this colour as a starting point – perhaps in the form of a red bead threaded onto black cotton. If we then use performative magic, we then say something like, ‘With this red bead I gather together all my debts. With this black thread I shall get out of debt and my finances will all be healthy again.’ We can do much the same thing by using ‘Just as... so may’ formula too. Using the same intention, we could say, ‘Just as my debts place me in the red, so I place this red bead onto a black thread. Just as I tie this knot, so may all my debts be cleared and placed behind me...’ Another way red has entered our language is when we say that someone ‘sees red’, meaning they become angry. Now of course anger is not always a negative emotion although I know that, like secrecy, it makes many people uneasy. Yet sometimes anger gives us the strength to cope with intolerable situations, to go on when others would give up. It’s not always wise to rid ourselves of our anger completely, just in case we need it again. However, like many things in life, anger makes a great servant but a bad master. It needs to be kept under control otherwise it risks becoming rage, something most of us would prefer to avoid. So if we notice our own (or someone else’s) anger is getting out of control and making those around unhappy we may want to cast a spell to try and rein it in to a more manageable level. To do this, we would need to start with a red cord and join it to a lighter one (pink, cream or white). The first knot, tied only in the red cord, symbolises the present state of things. The second knot, tied in red and white and joining the two colours together, symbolises the change, while the third knot, tied in only the white cord symbolises the future, i.e. what we want to happen. Alternatively, we could physically change the colour of the red cord by dipping it first in red ink and then, before it dries out, soaking it in water so that some of the anger leaches out. Thus the anger is symbolically released and we can tie a knot (something like a figure-of-eight) to act as a stopper and prevent its return. There is more about changing colours in Chapter Six.

Red is also the colour of inflammation, and a popular good choice for healing wounds, scars and various sores. Nor does this connection with healing belong solely in the distant past, since red ribbons were chosen in the twentieth century to signify AIDS awareness. Years ago, red threads were popularly used for curing nosebleeds. In Essex, for example, sufferers were sometimes given a piece of red silk thread to be worn around the neck after someone of the opposite sex had first tied nine knots in it (Newman and Wilson 1951:261). In Lancashire, Leicestershire and Worcestershire, children suffering from whooping cough traditionally wore a cord tied with nine knots around their necks although no colour is mentioned here (Rolleston 1943:304). Red tape was also sometimes used as a form of pain relief during labour – the tape was tied either around the woman’s waist or thigh. This clearly this has some magical intent, since one’s back and thighs do ache a great deal during labour, sometimes due to sluggish circulation, which again links blood with the colour red and healing.

Blue Like red and yellow, blue is a primary colour, and I think one reason it has so much influence on us emotionally is because it is the colour of the sky on a clear day. Whenever we lift our heads, there it is, colouring the grey clouds, or shining with the beautiful clear cerulean blue of a midsummer sky, to the palest pearl in winter. At night it runs a whole course of colours, finally ending up as the darkest shade of midnight just a whisper away from black. It’s little wonder therefore that blue has entered our everyday language since it makes up so much of our surroundings. Even the darkest clouds are tinged with a certain amount of blue. You can test this for yourself by mixing black watercolour paint with water and painting clouds with this, then comparing it to clouds mixed from a red earth colour, and a blue, such as ultramarine. The red/blue mixture is considerably more realistic than the black, which tends to look flat and sooty by comparison. Strangely though, ‘blue’ entered the English language some time ago as a euphemism for feeling very low in spirits. Quite why this should be puzzles me. Although I’ve heard the story about ships flying blue flags when a crew member was lost, there is little evidence for this. I suspect it may have more to do with the way skin can take on a blue tinge after death or when one has breathing difficulties. As with the example given above for anger, we could try bleaching or washing out the colour from a knotted blue thread as part of a spell intended to help lift one’s spirits (More information is given on methods of changing colour in Chapter Six). I must stress though, that spells and magic should never replace proper medical care. Blue can also indicate rarity, as in ‘once in a blue moon’ meaning something that doesn’t happen very often. Since we rarely see the moon looking particularly blue, the comparison is quite a good one. Nowadays though, the phrase is usually taken to mean a month where there are two full moons, or where there are four full moons in a season instead of three. For spells intended to help along something that may only happen once in a lifetime (graduation, for example), blue threads might therefore be very helpful.

Blue has other meanings, too. A ‘bluestocking’ was once a popular term for a woman with intellectual interests. It originally meant someone who dressed informally, wearing blue worsted stockings instead of formal black silk ones. At certain literary assemblies in mid- eighteenth century London, the women who attended were known as blue-stocking ladies or blue-stockingers. The informal dress of the bluestockings may be connected with the term ‘out of the blue’ meaning something unexpected. After all, it is difficult for something to suddenly sneak up on us in a clear blue sky. Therefore magically blue cords could be used in spells intended to help someone pursue an intellectual career. This might, at a pinch, tie in with the ‘once in a blue moon’ suggestion for graduating, perhaps. It’s unlikely such symbolism works only for women in this situation, but like all magic, we need to experiment. Practising magic is quite different from just reading about it! Although the term ‘blue collar’ refers to manual workers in various industries (as opposed to the higher grade ‘white collar’ workers) the term ‘blue chip’ indicates something of high quality and in the US a blue chip in gambling was worth a lot of money. Likewise, a blue ribbon or ‘cordon bleu’ symbolises excellence, especially in cooking. Magically therefore blue could be a useful colour to incorporate into any spell intended to help us (or someone else) achieve excellence. In art, the blue pigment lapis lazuli was incredibly expensive, which may explain the belief that royalty has ‘blue blood’ even though we know perfectly well that their blood is just as red as our own. Blue could therefore also be used for spells to influence wealth or status. Conversely however, blue was often associated with poverty. There are several ‘Bluecoat Schools’ in the UK, some dating back to Tudor times. These were originally founded to provide an education for poor boys. The pupils wore long blue coats, which were the everyday wear of schoolboys and apprentices of that time. The blue dye used for these coats was relatively cheap and anyone seeing these pupils would have understood their underprivileged background. There was even a time when the term ‘blue

gown’ meant a beggar. Years ago, the word ‘blue’ was also used in respect of anything vulgar. So people would say things like, ‘Not-blue-pencil likely!’ instead of ‘Not bloody likely!’ and of course pornographic films were called blue movies. I cannot imagine what sort of ‘vulgar’ spell would call for blue cords but I am quite sure that somewhere there is someone who does! It is fairly well documented that the Gentle People were associated with knots, and in Celtic lands it was often claimed they could not be held by any knot. According to one Scottish tradition, they danced around the Hallowfires, while tying knots with their left hands which they then threw over their left shoulder (Gregor 1883:55). One-handed knots are indeed possible; surgeons sometimes have to tie sutures this way. The Gentle People also tied magical ‘fairy knots’ in blue ribbons, and these could never be undone. They left them lying around for unwary mortals to find and pick up. Anyone who did so was immediately enchanted and sometimes carried away. On the other hand, the fairies would sometimes bestow the gift of tying knots on a mortal who had shown them kindness. Like red and pink, blue was at one time associated with love, especially in the ancient Greco-Roman world where it was sacred to Venus, the Roman Goddess of Love (her Greek ‘equivalent’ was Aphrodite). Blue was strongly linked with fertility and many brides still choose to wear ‘something blue.’ In parts of north-western Europe, blue flowers such as flax were used in love spells or to bring about or protect pregnancy, while blue periwinkles were often planted in newlyweds’ gardens to symbolise married love.

Yellow Yellow is the third of the primary colours, and its name derives from the Old English geolu, closely related to the word gold. This could make it a natural choice for spells involving money or wealth. However, yellow is often used to denote cowardice and jealousy. If we combined a yellow cord with a figure-of-eight knot we could then symbolically ‘stop’ our fear (or jealous feelings) and then burn the cord afterwards to banish the fear/jealousy completely. Yellow can also be used as a warning. In the UK, when a single amber or yellow light shows on traffic lights this warns it is about to change to red. In football, referees warns players about their behaviour by showing them the yellow card. Health-wise, a ship flying a yellow flag, warned others in the vicinity or in port that there was a contagious disease on board. So yellow might – if we feel we can relate to it – be used in a spell to warn someone away from something, or to alert them of possible dangers ahead. Centuries ago, yellow was associated with death, and at one time paupers’ burial grounds were known as ‘yellow holes.’ One explanation for this is that their bodies were often fumigated with sulphur (a yellow substance). This was a popular disinfectant, widely used for fumigating homes (and even objects) during epidemics. The first written reference to the use of sulphur for fumigation occurs in Book 12 of Homer’s Odyssey. This tells how Odysseus, having killed all the suitors who had occupied his home, ordered that sulphur should be burned in his house, to cleanse it of their presence. Although we might not want – or be able – to work with sulphur in our spells, yellow cords could be a good choice for any magical work involving cleansing or disinfecting or even perhaps to try and prevent contagion (although I must stress, as always, that this should not put us off seeking appropriate medical treatment). Yellow is also associated with ageing, such as paintwork or paper growing yellow with age. Obviously it’s unlikely (not to mention undesirable) that we

should cast spells to cause other people to age, as most of us do not want to appear older than we are – quite the opposite, in fact. However we might want to stay together as we age, or something like that, and in those circumstances perhaps yellow cords could be a good choice. If this imagery is particularly significant for us, then there’s no reason not to use it. During the twentieth century, it became popular to use yellow ribbons to welcome home those who had been away for a long time, for example serving on a tour of duty with the armed forces, or even in prison. So, providing we associated yellow with remembrance and vigils, we could tie knots in yellow cords or ribbons as part of a spell to keep ourselves fondly in someone’s thoughts and welcome them back.

Green Green is a diverse colour, that makes us a large proportion of our surroundings. Ranging from the palest yellow and pastel shades to the most vibrant sea greens and viridians, it’s no surprise to find it symbolises a whole host of different meanings and has varied and contradictory properties. Like many of our names for colours, green derives from Old English grēne. This is linguistically related to words meaning grass and grow. It is a secondary colour – meaning it is made up of two primary colours, blue and yellow, although it is possible to make quite an interesting dull green from yellow and black. Both green and yellow are sometimes associated with jealousy and melancholy. Shakespeare refers to ‘Green and yellow melancholy’ in Twelfth Night (Act 2 Scene 4) while in both the Merchant of Venice and Othello he describes jealousy as green eyed. Because of its associations with the earth, green can be associated with both freedom (i.e. breaking the bonds of the earth) and hospitality (where the host offers guests the fruits of the earth.) It has also been associated with knowledge, insight, second sight, wisdom and following the laws of nature. Green can also symbolise growth, especially in the spring when the new green shoots first poke their heads above ground. It can represent not only the beginnings of growth in spring but also its fulfilment at the end of summer, making it ideal to use in spells concerned with new enterprises or anything that needs time to grow, such as love or knowledge. Observing the world around us is always one of the best ways to understand magic. The ‘As above, so below’ dictum works well here. For example, the green growths of spring occur when the year is young and new. Thus green is often associated with youth and inexperience, hence ‘greenhorn’ or ‘green’ meaning immature or naive. Taking this a step further, we find green was also associated with sexual growth, so ‘To give a girl a green gown’ could mean anything from making love out of doors, to losing one’s virginity or even, in Elizabethan times, to

becoming pregnant. This symbolism would make green a good colour for anything concerned with the rites of passage of young people as they grow up, perhaps added to a red cord or bead in order to mark a small celebration for a young girl’s first menstrual period. Adopting a slightly different point of view, ‘A green gown’ could also mean a shroud, since the dead are buried in the earth, and their graves are quickly covered by new vegetation. So – like yellow – green threads could be incorporated into any magic or ritual marking a funeral, especially a burial. Like red, green was popular in healing magic. Evergreens are plants that do not shed their leaves in even the harshest of winters. Perhaps this explains the old belief that green guards the secret of immortality. Indeed, in the plant world, evergreens that bore fruit in winter were thought to be especially powerful life symbols (Drury: 1987:194-9). Therefore it could be useful to include a green thread or two in any magical intention associated with healing, life or longevity. In the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, some written tracts stated that green threads were used in place of hoops of ‘greene woodbyne’ which was probably honeysuckle. These hoops had to be cut during a waxing moon in March, and represented the re-birthing hoops used for healing various conditions, including consumption. The patient had to be passed through the hoop three times as part of the ritual and when that was complete, the hoop was cut up and burned or sometimes buried. It’s not really clear why green thread had was used for the hoop unless perhaps in some years there was a shortage of suitable plant material (Dalyell 1834, 121). Other ailments that people attempted to cure using green threads and ribbon included epilepsy(with a ribbon bracelet), rheumatism (with a woollen bracelet) and nosebleeds (with a ribbon worn around the neck) (Hutchings 1987:57) The same source also describes how a woman tied a green ribbon around her young grand-daughter’s wrist back in 1925 in order to ensure the infant would have ‘second sight.’ Perhaps green’s association with growth also explains why it was such a

popular colour for bank notes. If we live in an area where this is the case then we may feel the colour lends itself well to spells intended to increase wealth or concerned with money in some other way. However, it must be said that right across Europe, green also has some very negative associations and superstitions attached to it. For example in Zagreb, between 1640 and 1752, some women accused of witchcraft confessed to setting out green woollen threads during the week of a new moon. When their victim stepped on it, they measured the length of his foot and tied knots in that piece of the thread before throwing it away into running water (Vukanović 1989:15). Many traditional ingredients of ‘witchcraft’ are present here: the new moon, the desire to harm, tying knots and throwing the thread into running water. However, since such confessions were often obtained under torture, it is quite possible that the women were only confessing to ideas being suggested to them by their interrogators. Prejudice against the colour green probably arose out of observations too. It is the same colour as unripe fruit, gone-off or ‘green’ meat (both of which can make us ill), mould, decomposition and decay. Back in the nineteenth century (and the early years of the twentieth), arsenic was used in making green wallpaper, and when it became damp this gave off a poisonous gas called arsine. Other observations from everyday life can prove very useful when we try to work out the significance of colours. For example, out in the open countryside, green provides excellent camouflage. This made it a popular colour for some hunter’s clothing but not for others, since fox hunters, for example, preferred red. Magically however, green could be useful in spells intended to keep objects and people safely hidden. Green also has many contradictory associations with fairies, who were thought to be attracted to humans who wore the colour. Yet they also wore green in order to hide from human beings (which is another example of camouflage). By the same thinking, this may explain why witches – at one time – were said to dress in green, in order to pass unnoticed. Magically

therefore, green is useful in spells whenever secrecy is important. In spite of its association with fertility and sexual activity, green was often avoided by lovers who thought it unlucky, hence the saying, ‘Wear green and you’ll soon wear black.’ There was even a handy little rhyme to remind them of this in case they were tempted to forget: Those dressed in blue, Have lovers true In green and white, Forsaken quite. (Heather Dec 1948:165) Apart from its associations with witches and fairies, green was once considered unlucky for bridal couples, perhaps because King Charles I and his bride Henrietta Maria both wore green when they married in 1625 (Monsarrat 1973, 43). Initially at least, their marriage was difficult and unhappy; Charles was later executed (although probably not because he wore green!) In some parts of Scotland green was considered so unlucky that green vegetables were even banned from the wedding breakfast! And yet, in the little quote above, white is also mentioned as unlucky, although it doesn’t seem to have deterred couples who wanted a large, ‘white’ formal wedding. All in all it’s difficult to explain why the colour is so disliked, and I do wonder whether it was a few, very noisy people who fuelled these superstitions in just a handful of areas. Certainly the reporting and collecting of folklore is rather uneven, with some places (and probably some informants) being given far more attention than others. Personally I love the colour green and feel it’s always been lucky for me. But who knows, perhaps it is lucky for some but not for others! However, the important thing is that if you feel you are one for whom green is ‘lucky’ then you should run with this and not fear it just because of some rhyme or saying made up by others. Magic is very subjective, very personal. The secret of using colours successfully in our spells is to discover our own response to them.

The Curious Conundrum of Blue, Green, Water... and Amber This group – blue, green, water and amber – has puzzled me for some years.

While I can understand grouping blue, green and water together, the addition of amber is not so obvious, so I feel it deserves a small section all to itself. Colour, and how we view it, has been strongly influenced I believe, by observing the natural world around us. There were once sailors in Argyll who disliked a whole range of natural looking colours found in dyed wool. These included a range of blues, greys, yellowish browns, and orange browns. They reasoned that these colours resembled lichens which grew on rocks, therefore they believed they would magically attract rocks when they were out at sea, thus sinking their boats (Hutchings 1997:59). It’s an excellent example of some very magical thinking indeed! Also, as we have already seen in this chapter, green and blue were both considered fairy colours. In the case of green, some people went to great lengths to avoid wearing it in case it attracted the unwelcome attentions of the Gentle Folk. In the Outer Hebrides, this superstition went one further, with people believing that just to mention the colour green risked calling up the fairies. Their solution was ingenious: anything green was simply described as blue (Goodrich-Freer 1899, 265). Even though blue was sometimes associated with the fairy realms, it must have been viewed as far less provocative, perhaps even conciliatory. However, there may be more to it than this. The word glas is Celtic; in Welsh this means blue, while in Scottish Gaelic it covers a range of colours including grey, green and blue. So the colours do seem to be linked, and many a child when asked to colour the sea or a lake will pick up a blue crayon. It’s fairly instinctive, and often quite accurate; after all, the water does reflect the blue of the sky. And glas certainly had connections with water, which is how we have personal names such as Douglas (meaning a dark stream) and Finglas (meaning a white one.) Glas could also mean vigour, or life force as in Gaidheal glas meaning the vigorous, fresh Gael (MacKenzie 1922:137). Something else associated with both water and with the word glas was amber. This link is less obvious, but centuries ago it was believed that amber

was formed out of sea foam. This also provides us with a connection to the Divine Feminine, especially the ancient Greek deity, Aphrodite who, according to myth, was born out of sea foam. This makes amber a magical by-product of water, perhaps because it had been impregnated with that element’s life force or life substance. Yet why was water so bound up with the force of life itself? Well, obviously we need water. If we do not drink we shall die. But there must have been other observations too, such as the waters of birth that gush from the mother’s body just before or during birth. This can be seen as evidence of the Life Force and therefore also of glas or vigour. Conversely, amber shows evidence of the other end of the life force too, with insects seemingly suspended for eternity in a solid lump of golden resin. Amber is physically associated with water too, being found in some abundance along the coast of the Baltic. According to Tacitus (Germania XLV) the Aestii tribe (who were probably Celts) living near the Baltic would search for pieces of amber (which they called glese) on the beaches and ‘in the shallows’ and then trade it with the Romans. With typical Roman arrogance, Tacitus makes it seem as though the Aestii just ignored amber until they realised the Romans would pay for it. In fact they had been trading it since the Iron Age (Waldman, Mason 2006: 9-10). Magically therefore green – or greenish blue – threads could be combined with amber beads in spell work, especially if the spell intention was connected with water, or with anything that comes out of water, or indeed, the life force in whatever way we need to use it.

Purple If there was ever a colour associated with wealth and power over the past two and a half thousand years, it was purple. In fact the saying ‘Born into (or born to) the purple’ used to be a saying along the lines of ‘Born with a silver spoon in his mouth.’ In other words, one was born into privilege. Of course purple of itself does nothing; it cannot not change the person underneath, merely defines and perhaps influences the way others perceive them. Like green, purple is also a secondary colour. Mixed from blue and red, it can range from near crimson to almost blue. Its name probably originated with the Greek porphura, which were the molluscs that provided the famous crimson/purple dye known as Tyrian purple. This expensive colour was reserved for dyeing fabrics to be worn by emperors and senior magistrates in Rome and Byzantium. In Rome senators wore purple stripes on their togas and the purple dragon became Caesar’s emblem, which his standard bearer carried before him (Ellis Davidson 1950:180). At the battle of Actium, when Cleopatra and Mark Antony fought Octavian (who was later to become the Emperor Augustus), the Egyptian Queen’s ship had purple sails. Magically speaking therefore, purple could be useful in spells involving authority or secular power. However it may have had much older associations with sacred power too. At around 300 BCE, at the famous sanctuary of Demeter and Kore at Eleusis, a purple woollen cloth was used to wipe the statues of the gods and the Hierophant there wore a purple ceremonial garment (Clinton 1974:23,46). Apart from being associated with the elite – both sacred and secular - purple can occasionally denote excess, as in ‘purple prose’. This is a style of writing that wallows in a mire of adverbs, adjectives and generally flowery language. While best avoided in writing, magically this association with excess could be useful whenever we need to enhance some aspect of our lives. The trick of course it not to overdo it, but that comes with practice. Otherwise, as the opposite of austerity, purple cord could be a good choice in spells to call forth abundance.

Of course, purple has many other meanings. In everyday speech, if someone is ‘purple with rage’ it suggests a stage that has advanced far beyond the more usual ‘red with anger’. Rage is an uncontrolled emotion, and most people would not wish to remain in that state for long. Using purple threads with lilac beads, would be useful in spells intended to lessen rage. In the United States, the Purple Heart is a military decoration awarded for bravery, therefore a purple cord could be used (perhaps with a heart-shaped bead) for spells to make us (or others) braver. We could therefore start the spell with an plain cord and then dye it purple during the course of the spell (See Chapter Six for more information on this method). However, even a term like ‘purple heart’ is ambiguous; in the UK it became a popular slang term for amphetamines! Another saying that seems to be unique to the UK is a ‘purple patch’ meaning a run of good luck. However, as I keep stressing throughout this book, there is no point in adopting any of these ideas unless we can relate to them. If we do find an idea works for us, then in this instance we could use a purple cord in spells intended to bring us (or someone else) a run of good luck. Purple was sometimes associated with weddings because it was the colour of the fringe on a Roman bride’s wedding veil (Tegg 1877). However, according to Pliny, (Nat. Hist., xxi, 22) in the ‘...most ancient time yellow was held in the highest esteem, but was reserved exclusively for the nuptial veils of females.’ Whether Roman brides wore a yellow veil with a purple fringe, or whether Pliny was referring to a plain yellow veil, perhaps a much earlier practice that was already outdated in his own day, is uncertain. Still, we might consider combining yellow and purple cords for spells associated with brides and weddings. Purple also turns up in association with some otherworldly beings. For example, the Will o’ the wisp and Jack o‘ Lantern were both beings who took the form of a light – often purple – that wandered across bogs and swampy ground. The lights could either follow people, or lead them astray and even mimic their movements. The stories are surprisingly widespread and similar all over the world. A wide variety of chemicals including methane and phosphine have variously been put forward as scientific

explanations.

Brown If we ask most people how to mix the colour brown, they will answer ‘red and green.’ Thus it contains all three primary colours, although a decent dark brown can also be made from red and black. In appearance brown can range from darkest mud to a rich shade of terracotta or deep gold. Even though we may use ready dyed threads, I still believe it is important to understand their component colours. If we wanted cast a spell to rectify, say the shameful treatment of our Mother Earth, then knowing that the brown colour of earth is comprised of all three primary colours could influence the threads we use. Rather than using readymade brown threads we could knot together blue, red and yellow ones instead. Yet brown imagery has not entered our language in quite the same way as some other colours. The old saying ‘to do brown’ once meant to deceive, although I’ve not heard it for many years now. A little more common is the phrase ‘A brown study,’ meaning to be lost in one’s thoughts or daydreaming. Both these ideas can be incorporated into spells but only if we feel they have meaning for us. Personally I don’t think I could get very enthusiastic about using brown for spells concerned with promoting or preventing deception solely because of the saying ‘to do brown,’ because it really doesn’t ring any bells for me. A brown study however is a little closer to my heart, perhaps because I was such a daydreamer as a child. The phrase reminds me of old-fashioned sepia photographs of Victorian ladies sitting reading in the garden. So for a spell concerned with daydreaming, a sepia coloured cord would work for me – although perhaps not for others! Brown is also the colour of faeces which, it must be said, is something of a conversation stopper. Modern witches sometimes shy away from the more basic aspects of the Craft, forgetting that not only faeces but also urine, chamber lye, pus and menstrual blood were once common ingredients in spells. Magic in the past was certainly not all about incense and candles and

human faeces were often used in hexes. Grey Grey is one of those colours that everyone believes they know and recognise. Grey is just grey, right? Well, not really. Since childhood we’ve been taught that you mix black and white together and grey is the result, but actually grey is one of the most complex colours there is. Black and white certainly creates one type of grey, it’s true. But there are many, many others as well. For example, if we mix together a watery solution of brick red and a clear strong blue such as ultramarine, we will get another type of grey. Since there are many shades of brick red and clear blue, the possible permutations are endless, and they all produce very interesting, lively shades of grey. If we were doing a spell intended to produce better insight, i.e. to avoid seeing things simplistically in black and white, then a grey cord could be an excellent colour for achieving a better balance, although we might want to add in threads of red and blue just for good measure! In the past, grey was associated with the Fairy Folk, perhaps because they were able to fade in and out of sight. Also in a misty landscape grey would be a useful colour for camouflage. More recently, there are ‘the greys’ alien beings who come to earth in their spaceships, and who have grey skin and large, black, almond-shaped eyes. So if we are casting a spell that is somehow connected either with the Fairy Folk, aliens, extra terrestrials or Other Worlds, grey could be an ideal choice for our cord, although personally I would be extremely wary about such magic. We know little enough about other worlds as it is, and there are plenty of legends about people who ‘ran away with the fairies,’ never to return. There are similar tales about people abducted by aliens, too. Grey may also be associated with the Divine Feminine. The saying, ‘The old grey mare is the better horse’ traditionally means a household where the wife is the boss, although it could have also meant a household where the Divine Feminine was still honoured. Not provable, of course, but certainly an interesting thought!

Black Like grey, black is a more complex colour than most people realise. Some people, particularly artists, don’t regard black or white as real colours at all, but as the ultimate dark and light respectively and as such might be used to adjust the balance on our spiritual path. Both black and white have not only entered our language but also our magical consciousness. Indeed, black can actually indicate a lack of physical consciousness, as in the term ‘to black out.’ The richest shades of black are created using various proportions of the primary colours rather than just squeezing black from a tube (this tends to result in a rather flat, lifeless colour. Sometimes it looks like a hole in the paper!) Since black contains a little of everything, just what type of dark it is (i.e. warm or cool) depends on the proportion of red and blue in the mix. For centuries, black has been associated with death and mourning, much of it due I suspect to the Old Testament. The original Hebrew text for ‘I caused Lebanon to mourn’ (Ezekiel 31:15 in the King James Version) literally translates as ‘I caused Lebanon to be black.’ (Heather 1948:169). (It should be noted however that in much of Asia, white is the traditional colour of mourning.) In ancient Greece, the playwright Euripides described, ‘...the black robed ruler of the dead’ in his play Alcestis. In Europe, by the Middle Ages, black was firmly associated with funerals, and therefore linked with mourning and grief. This was probably not helped by the spread of the so-called Black Death epidemic in the fourteenth century. Nowadays even financial calamities are often described as black, as in Black Monday (when the world’s stock markets crashed on Monday, 19th October 1987), or Black Tuesday (referring to the Wall Street Crash of 1929), Black Wednesday in September 1992 when the UK was forced out of the European Exchange Rate Mechanism, and there are too many Black Thursdays to attempt to list here! It is hardly surprising therefore that black was once thought to actually attract

death or disaster, either to the person wearing it or to someone close to them. For example, even using a black headed pin when fitting a wedding dress was said to cause the death of the groom! In the UK not so long ago, when the punishment for murder was hanging, the judge would put on a black cap before passing sentence. Yet white flowers (the so-called Mother-Die plants) seem to have exerted a similar baneful effect at the other end of the colour scale. Like blue, black is traditionally associated with low moods, sadness and even depression, sometimes referred to as the ‘black dog’. In medieval medicine, ‘black bile’ was one of the Four Bodily Humours, (the others were yellow bile, phlegm, and blood). To possess too much black bile was thought to indicate that the patient had a melancholy temperament. There also is an element of sneakiness and deception in the colour black. For example, there is ‘black-listing,’ where someone’s name is added to a secret register which prevents them accessing work, housing, loans etc., and has a detrimental effect on their lives. Or blackmail, where people threaten to reveal something that has hitherto been hidden. And a bad person is sometimes called a ‘blackguard.’ There are even ‘black ops’, which are covert military operations, often using methods that wouldn’t normally be approved. Even in the natural world, we find a secretive and deceptive aspect to the colour black. ‘Black ice’ is clear rather than grey or white so that motorists do not see it in time to avoid an accident. Meteorologists may well insist that ‘Black ice is just ice,’ but anyone who has ever skidded unexpectedly on what seemed a clear stretch of road would probably beg to differ! Black seems to have been used very occasionally in weather magic too. Back in the nineteenth century, a witch at Stornaway sold winds to sailors, in the form of three knots tied in a black cord. Possibly the black cord represented dark storm clouds (Folklore of Drayton Part III 1884: 358). A quick search for popular phrases containing the word ‘black’ will reveal sayings as diverse as being in someone’s black books, to the black sheep of the family and even to practice the ‘Black Arts’! And as I have said

repeatedly throughout this book, no saying or colour has any worthwhile importance unless it has meaning for us. Personally I find black cords useful for symbolising ignorance, a wilful refusal to listen to reason, the darkness of the soul, or an inability to see another person’s point of view. Magically speaking, we would be unlikely to want such a state of affairs to continue, therefore dyeing the cord in ink and then soaking it in order to release the colour would be a good way to release some of the negativity (See Chapter Six for more details about this method).

White If black is the ultimate ‘dark’ then white is surely the ultimate ‘light,’ or absence of colour. Our English word ‘white’ comes from the Old English hwīt, and is probably linguistically related to the word ‘wheat.’ Unlike many other colours, it does not signify mood, but instead has become associated with some sort of perceived superiority, especially in relation to race. This is a little curious since nobody, not even albinos, have pure white skin. Nevertheless such beliefs have caused endless oppression and misery down the years. White entered western consciousness long ago, when the Bible used it to describe holiness, honour and innocence. Elsewhere, priests of many different traditions, including the ancient Egyptians, often wore pure white linen robes, while the rest of the congregation wore undyed and natural shades. The difference between lightest and darkest soon took on secular as well as spiritual significance. Yet it would be a mistake to think that white only means positive things. To whitewash something means to hide or disguise the truth, while a ‘white out’ has a lot in common with the loss of consciousness in a black out, except that in a white out the colour vision is lost just beforehand. A white-out may also describe blizzards so fierce that we cannot see anything. In western Europe, as we have already noted, many white spring flowers were traditionally considered not only unlucky but potentially lethal, especially if they were brought indoors. These are collectively known as ‘Mother-Die’ plants and I suspect their ill-associations stem from the need to suppress a much earlier, pagan practice of bringing such flowers into the home. Since these were usually the flowers of late spring and early summer, I believe the practice was intended to honour the Divine Feminine and the life force. Hence the inversion of the myth so that the Secular Feminine (i.e. the mother of the household) died and thus the life force of the family was then lost.

Then there is White Magic. Widely thought to be somehow harmless, people are often labelled as either White Witches or Black ones. Yet to those who actually practice magic, this distinction is meaningless since there is no such thing as a white (i.e. harmless) or black (i.e. harmful) witch, there is only intention behind each spell. A witch is a witch, just as a human being is a human being. Witches may be short or tall, kind or cruel, jolly or melancholy, but not ‘black’ or ‘white.’ Like the colour black, white is associated with death, especially in India and the far East where white clothes are often worn when in mourning. White is also associated with both war and peace. In the ancient world, the term ‘white armed’ meant honourable behaviour in battle while in modern Europe and the US white is often associated with truces and surrendering. The Peace Pledge Union sells white poppies for Remembrance Day (we used to know it as Armistice Day) – in order to challenge the endless wars across the world, and to encourage politicians to negotiate first and foremost. The image of the white dove of peace is a potent one, and yet it was curiously subverted during World War I with The Order of the White Feather, which tried (and unfortunately often succeeded) to shame young men into enlisting by presenting them with a white feather. This cruel accusation of cowardice (it was even handed out to men returning home from the war on leave) was often presented by old men and young women who were never going to enter the trenches themselves. Of course, white feathers are also sometimes believed to indicate the presence of angels. This is probably outside the scope of Knot Magic, although it does show that white – the ultimate light - is connected with other worlds (it was also traditionally associated with fairies.)

Other Colours and Metallics There are many other colours not listed above, such as pink, orange, peach, lilac etc. However, these are all mixtures and could be said to include the properties of each colour used in their creation. Metals are slightly different. Some, such as gold and silver have a long and important tradition within magic where they represent various correspondences with planets and matters astrological. Metallic threads such as silver, have been used in expensive tapestries for centuries, but have the disadvantage of blackening with age which changes their appearance considerably. Although in the next chapter I deal with deliberately changing colours as part of a Knot Magic charm, I feel that the changes brought about by oxidisation are going to be much more difficult to control and should be avoided. Much the same also applies to copper and brass. Synthetic metallic colours however can be used to symbolise the magical properties of the original, although it becomes difficult to differentiate between brass, say, and gold colours, or silver and platinum, oxidised silver and iron or even copper and rose gold. Therefore if we use a metallic thread we should be very clear in our minds exactly what it is going to represent since it does not contain the properties of the original metal. Traditionally gold colours were associated with the sun and silver with the moon, while both silver and iron had strong protective qualities. This can be useful if we want to construct a spell where the cord is going to be worn (around the neck or wrist) afterwards. This is often the case in spells for healing or protection.

Single coloured and Multi-coloured threads Sometimes a single colour will not completely suit the spell intention, and then we should certainly consider adding another coloured cord. However we do have to be sensible and resist the temptation to use too many. The other temptation of course is to cheat a bit, perhaps by using the three primary colours of blue, red and yellow in the belief that this will somehow combine not only the properties of each colour, but also all the colours that can be mixed from them. In theory although this should work, not all reds, blues and yellows can render all other colours. Only certain hues are true primary colours. Mixed badly, even red, yellow and blue can end up producing a muddy looking mess. Of course, using the primary colours simply in order to avoid thinking for ourselves would be plain lazy, and our magic deserves better than this. This is why I stress using colour associations that have personal meanings for us. Something happens in the mind when we use a colour or knot that evokes real memories or emotions. And whatever it is that happens is then easily absorbed into our magical intention and projected via our will. However, in spite of all my caution about too many colours, it is true that using multi-coloured threads is a time honoured tradition in many parts of the world. For example, by the late Egyptian period, we find magical instructions such as ‘...take a band of linen of one hundred and fifty six threads, four of white, four of green, four of blue, four of red and make them into one band…’ (Bonser 1925:197). This shows how long ago the idea of working with many different colours was developing although personally I think a hundred and fifty six threads is definitely over-egging the pudding somewhat! Being practical here, a hundred and fifty six threads, even if these were just sewing cotton, could present some real difficulties when it came to tying the knots! I suspect that the band in this particular spell must have been woven rather than knotted. And of course, whatever method we choose for our Knot Magic, we should always practice first before casting our spell. Proper preparations will avoid us getting into a mess half way through.

Luckily we don’t need to worry how the coloured threads will look, since this is a spell and not a fashion parade. However we might want to consider how different types of thread, e.g. natural and man-made will actually tie together. Some can be too slippery to handle reliably while others will cling to each other and make rumpled, uneven knots. Don’t worry if, by now your head is reeling with all the contradictory meanings for colour in this chapter. The important thing is that we should always use colours that have meaning for us, and the symbolism suggested here is only intended as a starting point. Always remember there is no one-size-fits-all in magic. This is likely to be the main reason why spell books often can’t give us the results we hope for. Don’t misunderstand me, spell books are not wrong, per se, but at the end of the day, magic is a very personal thing. Sometimes it takes time to work through our own responses to colours and cords and we cannot shirk this. It’s one thing not to know where to start, but quite another if we are just too lazy to make the effort even when we know what we should be doing! Spells – whether we use Knot Magic or any other method – are very personal things indeed.

Chapter Six Changing colours Magic is a great bringer of change. It is important therefore, especially during our early preparations for magical work, to really get to grips with the nature of the changes we hope to bring about. Often change is not all it seems. For example, we have already seen that there are some colours such as green, that are associated with growth. Received wisdom usually tells us that growth is ‘a good thing’ and no doubt about it. Therefore nobody in their right minds would ever wish to change a green thread to something else... or would they? Well, yes and no. Just about everything has a dual aspect and growth is no exception. Yes, it may be a good thing to ‘grow’ more money or health or even tomato plants, but what about cancer spells or infections? They can grow too. Therefore reducing growth can indeed be a positive spell intention, and we should never automatically associate it with hexing or negativity. In this chapter I want to look at how we can change colours, either by adding them or by washing them out. Inks etc., can be useful in magic, especially when used in conjunction with the ‘Just as... so may...’ approach. This is because they can physically show us the change we wish to bring about magically. As a word of caution though, changing colours should be used with restraint. It should always be a helper and never our master. Otherwise it will become a distraction, which is something we can really do without in our magic! So at this point we need to start making a list in our notebook or Magical Journal of changes that can work for or against something. We could start with the growth example given above, and see how many we can find. There will be more than we might expect. Next we must think what we could say or think as part of the spell for these types of change. For example, if we wish to reduce growth then we could

home dye a red thread, knot it and then rinse the colour out again, while saying something like, ‘Just as the colour of this knotted thread is removed (or changed to white/cream), so may [Name]’s infection be soothed and calmed.’ If we want to increase growth, then we dip a pale cord in green ink, while saying, ‘Just as this thread turns to green so may ... grow.’ The idea here is that as we are looking at the physical change, so we concentrate our will and intention upon the magical change we’re trying to bring about. The colour – whether added in or washed out - acts solely as a prompt to strengthen what we are trying to do. It is not necessarily magical in its own right. People often look at me as though I have gone slightly mad when I suggest using ink in order to change colours during the course of a knot spell. It works, they remind me, only due to a chemical process and not because I have waved my magic wand and shouted ‘abracadabra!’ Well, yes, this is true (apart from me waving a magic wand). Yet there is something about the physical change that is magical. And of course it’s not just ink that will change colours - I well remember when I was a child, watching my mother bleach some rather grubby dishcloths. I really thought I was witnessing magic, the way they ended up looking like new. And of course in a way I was. Of course, scientists will point out that most household bleach contains sodium hypochlorite, which removes colour (along with stains) but as far as I was concerned, what I was actually seeing was change. And both magic and chemistry are really all about change. Transformation. Of course we could still use household bleach in our magic if we wished, but I feel there are already quite enough chemicals spewing into the environment without our adding to them. Yes, it would take only a spoonful or two, but why bother when other methods are available? The methods I will suggest

here may be more fiddly, but they are also safer to use. When we cast spells using Knot Magic, the magical transformation takes place at the moment of tying. Often we miss this, being so busy concentrating on actually tying the knot and focusing on our intention. So by creating an obvious visible change as we work our magic, we are reinforcing the spell and helping preserve our magical focus. For this to happen however, the change of state must be absolutely clear, predictable and reliable. We cannot start messing around trying to get something to change while still mentally hanging onto our magical intention. This will not work. At best all we will end up with is a sort of magical soup, which is no use to anyone. What we are going to use in order to make the cord change colour is nonpermanent ink or water based paint. The method will not work with permanent inks or with acrylic paint if it is allowed to dry, so do check the labels and experiment before starting the spell. Method Number One Take a piece of natural, un-dyed cotton thread. This takes colour more reliably than anything synthetic. If we decide to use man-made threads it is even more important to practise before casting our spell. We might need to dilute the ink or dampen the threads slightly first. Concentrating on our intention, we should tie the required number of knots in the dry cord. (Really wet cords are never very pleasant to work with.) Next we dip the thread into the ink or paint (with paint it’s easier if we mix a little up in a small dish or saucer), explaining as we do so that the colour we have chosen represents growth, anger, love etc. Then drop the knotted cord – still wet – into a dish of cold clean water or even hold it under a running tap. This will draw out or wash away most of the dye, representing loss or change of growth, etc. We could add some Oxygen (Oxy) bleach to the bowl of clean water, but this will not remove colour in the same way that ordinary household bleach does. On the other

hand, it’s not so toxic either. Method Number Two If we really feel our spell must use household bleach, then we have to observe basic safety precautions. Use no more than about a tablespoonful mixed only with the same amount of clean water. Do not be tempted to add anything else since this can set up an unpleasant chemical reaction. Try and avoid touching the bleach, using tongs, rubber gloves or even old chopsticks to pick up the thread afterwards. Method Number Three The opposite colour change is to use a white or undyed cord and add colour by dipping it in ink, paint or food colouring. All we have to do is change the colour, allow it to dry and use it as it is. Once it is dry we can go ahead with the spell and the knot tying as normal. Since we are not going to try and change the colour back again, it doesn’t matter what sort of ink we use, although we will get the best results if we begin with a pale, preferably white thread. Ink is better absorbed than paint and considerably less messy to work with in this instance. Be careful however, because some cords and threads absorb colour better than others. A hard nylon rope for example, may not absorb anything at all. So yet again, preparation is the key. Experiment. Test things out. And write it down! When we change the colour of a cord in Knot Magic, we are essentially using either performative intention (‘with this colour/water, I do etc.’) or the ‘Just as... so may...’ formula. So we might choose something like, ‘Just as I wash this cord in clean, running water, so may (Name’s) doubts be washed away and she may recover her self confidence.’

Keeping spells under control All magic creates change, either through our own efforts to change our outer world, or by working its change upon us. Sometimes we manage to do a bit of both. One thing we should not do however is to become so immersed in magic that we lose sight of everyday reality. We have to strive for balance. Think of it as learning to navigate properly instead of allowing ourselves to simply drift about in a magical storm. Spells should always be kept under

control. One of the surest ways to lose control is to allow ourselves to become distracted. This is why it can be useful – especially in the early days or when trying a new type of spell intention – to use physical changes to represent the changes we hope to bring about with our magic. Bleaching or washing out colour is not magic – but it shows very clearly what we are trying to do and this helps us stay focussed. And the more we can stay focussed, the less likely we are to be distracted, and this in turn helps us stay in control of our spell. Of course, unlike physical changes which are relatively reliable, magical change occurs in accordance with the will and inner strength of the person performing the spell. This varies, not only from one person to another, but even from one spell to another. Partly this is due to experience. As we gain experience, so we become more confident. Magic has a curious tendency to misbehave when we fumble! The weakest point of our spell is the point at which our intention challenges the status quo. We know what we want to achieve, but at that precise moment we have to leap across the divide between what is, and what we want to achieve with our magic. Distractions – such as sudden self doubt - can send the intention spiralling off in a different direction from what we intended, or weaken it so much it cannot go anywhere at all. The answer lies in preparation rather than trusting to luck. When I was young and used to sit my music examinations, I often wondered why my old teacher never wished me luck. One day she explained, ‘If you practise then you don’t need luck.’ And although I don’t entirely agree (since a little luck is always agreeable after all), I can understand what she meant. All too often people trust to luck rather than putting in the necessary work. So here we need to be honest with ourselves. Are we the sort of person who has the attention span of a goldfish, or can we continue what we’re doing, regardless of the chaos and mayhem around us? Some people are more easily distracted than others, but most of us fall somewhere in the middle. And some distractions are definitely easier to handle than others.

This is when we need to remind ourselves that it’s not selfish to want to put ourselves and our rituals first. We don’t perform rituals all day, every day after all. At most they take up less than fifteen minutes. We are entitled to claim that time for ourselves. The phone is an obvious culprit. Switch it off or unplug it. If we are waiting for an important call then we should delay our ritual until we’ve dealt with it. The same applies to visitors. I often warn everyone I think might possibly call, visit or email me that I will be unavailable for the next hour or so. However, since I have the social life of a mole, I am not normally bothered by too many distractions. And do, please, shut down the computer – far too many people try to cast spells with one eye on what they’re doing and the other on Facebook or Twitter! Magic eventually becomes not only a way of doing things but also a way of seeing, of being, thinking and living. It should run through us like letters running through a stick of rock. That is why – strange though it seems – the better we become at magic, the less we need to do it. Because, in the end, we will have become the magic.

Chapter Seven The Practical Framework of Knot Magic Whereas many magical systems require various tools, incense, magical correspondences etc., Knot Magic has only one practical requirement: something in which we can tie at least one knot. This can be anything from soft bark, rope or parcel string to embroidery thread. Often people prefer to work with just one type of cord or thread, either because it’s easily obtainable, or because they feel comfortable with it, and they know just how much cord is needed for certain numbers of knots. For Knot Magic, just as in any type of knot tying, the basic rule is that the more knots there are, the longer the cord needs to be. And thick cords must be longer than thin ones, even when tying the same number of knots. Therefore unless we’re content to stick with the same number of knots in the same type of cord, we need to practice before casting a spell where we’ve made changes. This is just common sense. There’s nothing worse than starting a spell, making a start and then finding we’ve run out of cord for some of the knots we meant to tie! While using the same cord with the same number of knots all the time works very well for some, other, more adventurous individuals may prefer to experiment with all sorts of different cords. This option does require more work since each time we change the type of knot, cord or number of knots, we need to practice. Every cord, every knot, has its own unique characteristics and qualities. Never believe that practising weakens a spell. I have heard this suggested several times, although I’ve no idea where the idea comes from. In most walks of life practice makes us more skilled, not less. Few people would dream of entering a marathon without some training first, and by the same token casting a spell using Knot Magic (or any other magical method) also requires practice.

We should also ensure we have everything to hand before we start. I know only too well from my own early experiences that nothing interrupts the rhythm of a spell more than having to break off and search for things! Make a note on your practice run of everything you’ll need, taking nothing for granted. Some people like to have the cord ready cut before they start, others prefer to incorporate the cutting into the spell. If you decide on the latter there are suggestions for cutting the cord as part of the spell in Chapter Nine.

To speak or not to speak? Some people – myself included – like to carry our spells in our heads. As I get older, I may do a bit of muttering from time to time, but mostly I’m silent. Others may perform some spells in their heads, and others aloud. Still others prefer always to have something to say, perhaps because we’ve been conditioned to think of spells and charms as ‘utterances’, i.e. things to be spoken aloud. If this makes us feel more comfortable, then fine, we should do it. But what do we actually say? I find that being a solitary I only have a certain amount of energy at my disposal, so I like to concentrate this on the matter in hand. This means when I tie a knot as part of a spell, I tell myself what I am doing as succinctly as possible. This helps me to focus and gets the spell moving along. Therefore much of what I say is in fact a magical narrative. For example: With this knot I bind unto [Name] the gift of good health. Binding spells tend to be viewed rather negatively these days, although there is no reason why binding cannot have a positive intention. The important word in the above utterance is ‘good.’ Health, as we know, can be good, bad or indifferent, and we certainly wouldn’t (I hope) wish to bind poor health to anyone.

Spells and Reflective Writing The main difference between reflective work and spells is our old friend, intention. When I work on my reflective writing – which is often just a practice run for a later spell or invocation – then I have no intention of

sending it off into the Great Beyond. I lack any will to make it do anything. I am – at that stage anyway – just creating a reflection of a particular situation. I chew it over, think upon it, write about it, sometimes over a period of days, but that’s all. Later I may decide to incorporate some or all of this into a spell, but in the early stages at least, I keep my spells and reflections quite separate. So why bother with reflective writing at all? Well, for me one of its great advantages is that it allows me to experiment not only with the spell intention, but also in how I set it out. It gives me time to ponder a situation in order to find the best way of dealing with it. And it gives me the opportunity to experiment with rhymes and rhythms in the way that a straightforward spell cannot. So yes, I will happily write rhyming meditations, invocations to the seasons etc., but this is almost always reflective work, rather than a spell in its own right. Reflective work gives me more leeway to explore themes and ideas, without worrying whether I’ve created a spell that will miss its mark or have unfortunate consequences. If, eventually, I decide that my reflective work – with or without rhymes – is suitable for my spell, then I’ll use it. But I never set out to make a spell rhyme for its own sake. Unfortunately nowadays, people have been made to believe that all (or most) spells should rhyme. This would be fine if it meant that we ended up with a great spell and great poetry. Or even a great spell and awful poetry. But all too often what we end up with is a poor spell and dismal poetry. And our magic deserves so much better than that. The problem with trying to write rhyming spells, especially if we are just setting out, is that we become intoxicated by the rhyme and forget our magical intention. For example, I know some people who believe that saying things like, ‘By the power of one, this spell’s begun, By the power of two I’ll send it to you...’ is extremely witchy and powerful. When asked why this should be so, however, they cannot explain it, because let’s face it, it’s not all that different from the old counting song, ‘This old man, he played one, he played knick-knack on my thumb,’ etc. We might as

well be reciting our times tables and singing ‘Da-da de-dah’ as we go along. You see, the big problem with a rhyming couplet (where one line rhymes with the next, in an AA, BB, CC etc., pattern) is that we become so caught up with forcing things to rhyme that everything else – including our spell intention - goes out of the window. I know. I’ve done it myself. Of course there is nothing wrong with rhyming couplets in experienced hands. The poet John Clare wrote in that style almost exclusively though he didn’t (as far as I know) cast spells. However the problem where magic is concerned is that because the lines rhyme one after another, they trick us into thinking they must be powerful. In fact a rhyming spell is no more – and often a good deal less - potent than a simple statement. If we feel called to study prosody (which means the writing of verse) it’s worth reading a good modern book on the subject. Of course, not all rhymes are bad and sometimes the rhythm helps drive a spell along, but this should never be done at the expense of meaning and will. And this takes time and understanding. If I need to write a spell, I can take several days working out exactly what I want to say and how I want to say it, so that every stressed syllable and every single knot is made to count! What a spell must always do, whether or not it rhymes, is to express our intention clearly and unambiguously. Nothing more – but certainly nothing less.

Useful Utterances... There are several useful statements that can easily be incorporated into our spells without losing any of the essential intention. For example, ‘By (or ‘with’) this knot may...’ is not only handy but also memorable. Some prefer ‘By the power of this knot may...’ and in both examples we can then launch straight into the intention without further ado. The statement can be said each time we tie a knot, and nothing about it needs to rhyme. However, even though these statements are simple and direct, a certain amount of preparation is still necessary. In particular we should always know what we’re going to say beforehand since tying and tightening a knot are

relatively quick actions, and we don’t want to be rambling on after tying each knot. Nor do we want to change our minds or dither! All we need to do is plan in advance what each knot represents, distil it down into a single, clear sentence, and then insert it into the spell. And if we’re not sure whether we’ll be able to remember, then we just write it down and read it when the time comes. At this point it is worth taking a moment to understand what a spell is, and what it is not. A spell is an action intended to bend the laws of chance. This is no easy undertaking and should never be attempted lightly and certainly not in a temper! Yet it’s surprising how many people turn to magic in anger, when in fact that’s the very last thing they should be doing. Magic cast in anger – even a hex - rarely does what it’s supposed to! To give ourselves the best chance of success we need to make sure our intention is clear and focused and our will is not distracted. Our focus should always be on what we’re trying to achieve and not what we’re trying to prevent. ‘Don’t let XYZ happen’ is nowhere near as powerful, or as clear as ‘Make (or ‘May’) XYZ happen.’ In practical terms therefore if we’re casting a healing spell then our intention is to make people better and not to stop them from being ill. With a spell to help us find a new job, focus on what we want rather than our desire not to be unemployed any more. This is a subtle, but important difference and people often misunderstand and misuse it. Sometimes we may decide to give each knot the same intention. This works by reinforcing the first knot, and building up its power. Personally I would recommend a maximum of three knots for the same intention because it is so difficult to hold our focus over more than that. However, if you are one of those people who finds this easy, then go ahead and build on it! The best magic always uses our own, personal talents, not what someone else tells us we should be doing. Another method is to tie each knot so that it represents a slightly different aspect of the same intention. Although this allows us to tie more knots, we

still should aim for no more than nine. If we feel that nine knots is not enough, then the whole spell probably needs a good deal more thought and preparation. However, there is nothing to say we could not tie a string of seven knots, and then repeat this exactly so that we have two strings of seven knots, with two knots for each exact same intention. With this we end up with two knots for each of seven intentions (not a single knot for each of fourteen different intentions.) I have done this on rare occasions and it has always worked well for me, especially if I feel that I need to put extra force into the seven intentions. It is not something I make a habit of however. Another possibility is to tie several knots, each with a slightly different aspect of the same intention (as a rule of thumb it’s best to have one distinct intention per spell). Each knot is similar to its companions, and each works to build up the overall intention. Never be tempted to cram too much detail into a spell, since the simpler it is, the easier it is for us to pay full attention to what we’re doing and to stay in control. For example, for healing, we could have Knot (1) to reduce pain, Knot (2) to reduce fever and Knot (3) to reduce inflammation. Of course each one should relate to the same patient! As regards our will, this is best released as we’re tying the knots in order to drive our intention forward and away from us towards the focus of our spell. Personally I always work by breathing out as I tighten the knot in order to literally blow the spell on its way. Breathing out when we tie our knots need not interfere with actually saying anything during the spell, provided of course, that we don’t try to do it while speaking. (You would be surprised how many people do!) The best method is to say what we have to while tying the knot slowly and then, as we tighten it, to breathe out in a long, steady stream. It’s worth practising this method a few times before we need it. Then, when the time comes to cast the spell we know exactly how it should go, which makes us feel more confident about it. What we choose to say as we tie that first knot is up to us, but at the very

least it should express our overall intention. ‘Heal [Name]’ or ‘May [Name] be healed,’ is simple and straightforward. Admittedly it doesn’t rhyme, but it is far better than , ‘By the power of one (or ‘knot number one’ or, indeed, anything else with ‘one’ in it!), this spell’s begun.’ Never waste a knot. Another method is to say, ‘By the power of this knot, may [Name] be healed, ’ or even ‘With the tying of this knot may [Name] be healed,’ which is quite a decent example of performative intention. (And in case you’ve forgotten what performative intention is, think of, ‘With this ring I thee wed.’ That’s performative intention!) As I said earlier, we can either tie three knots with exactly the same intention, or three knots with very similar intention. For example: 1. By the power of this knot (or With this knot...) may [Name] be well again 2. May his/her temperature return to normal 3. May his/her wound heal quickly and without infection Some people like to repeat the first line again at the end of the spell, in which case we will need a fourth knot. Others prefer tying three knots rather than four, believing it is somehow more ‘magical’. This is really a matter for personal choice, but if we feel this way then either drop line two or three and repeat line one, or leave out the repetition of line one altogether.

The types of cord... There are a handful of times when the type of material used for tying a knot plays an important role in our spell. For example, it was once widely believed that if one’s right cheek (or sometimes one’s ear) was burning, then someone was praising us. If it was the left cheek (or ear) that was affected however, then we were being slandered. In Cornwall the ‘cure’ for this was to tie a knot in an apron string which would make the slanderer bite his or her own tongue (Courtney 1887:219). So perhaps we should always have an apron handy, just in case we start noticing tingling around our left cheek or ear!

On slightly more serious note, although most of us would probably opt for string, twine or rope made of natural fibres, other materials including ribbons, bandages, handkerchiefs, napkins and towels have all at some time been used for tying knots. Although modern towels might seem too thick and unwieldy, until well into the twentieth century many people were still using thin huck linen or huckaback towels. These could range from relatively coarse to beautiful woven damask style patterns, depending on one’s budget. It would certainly be possible to tie a knot or two in such a towel! Some cords are undeniably easier to work with than others. Plain white parcel string is relatively well behaved, as is jute, although embroidery threads can slither about a bit. Try and avoid using untested types of cord for the first time in any spell. Always practise first – it pays off in the long term. If we intend tying a knot in hair then we should check the strand is long enough. A single strand can carry a few knots, although they should not be pulled too tight since although hair can stretch up to a point, a single hair can also break easily. One solution is to lie the hair alongside a stronger thread and then tie the knot in both hair and thread simultaneously. Usually this is best done as a single-knot spell, although if the hair is long enough we might be able to tie several. Hair is particularly useful in healing spells, since it carries some of the natural essence or magnetism of the patient. For much the same reason hair has also been a popular vehicle for hexing spells. Years ago women with long hair often kept ‘hair tidies’ on their dressing tables. These small pots, with a circular hole in the lid, were used for storing hair from brushes and clothes until they could be properly disposed of. Of course, hair tidies are no deterrent to a really determined hexer, as can be seen in the fifteenth century trial of Elenor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester who was accused of conspiring with Margery Jourden, the so-called ‘Witch of Eye’ and others to magically harm King Henry VI. At her trial, Elenor apparently stated: Oh, that I were a witch but for her sake, I'faith her queenship little rest should take:

I'd scratch that face that may not feel the air, And knit whole ropes of witch-knots in her hair (Eng. Heroic. Epis. [i. 302]. (and The Folklore of Drayton Part III 1884: 360) Although it is unlikely Elenor defended herself in verse, the story does suggest that tying ‘witch knots’ in hair was a well known magical practice at the time. Unfortunately we don’t know exactly what a witch knot was, and it might have varied over place and time. Possibly, rather than being a specific type of knot, it was no more than any knot tied by someone claiming to be a witch. This poem does raise a query with me, however. Certainly there was a tradition of tying three, seven or even nine knots in a bride’s hair, although these were usually done for good luck. Such ‘knots’ must surely have been a type of plaiting rather than a permanent knot, since hair must at some point be combed or brushed (otherwise the knots have to be cut out, which is unsightly). However, if witch-knots were a type of plaiting, then why did Elenor say she would ‘knit whole ropes of them’? Knitting implies the use of needles so perhaps years ago these were used in hair plaiting. Whether she was referring to the type of simple plait we recognise nowadays, or whether it was something altogether different and more decorative is impossible to say. Anyone who is inclined towards such magic can only be advised to experiment! There are some advantages to plaiting hair as a part of a Knot Magic spell. We do not have to cut it off in order to tie a knot in it although we would normally need to ask permission before plaiting it. That said of course, it is possible to have someone’s permission to physically do something when mentally and magically we are doing something quite different. So perhaps we should not allow others to plait our hair unless we truly trust them (and I speak here as someone whose own hair reaches almost to her waist). Since plaits are usually going to be untied at some point, this makes them ideal for temporary intentions, perhaps for help with a job interview or something similar. Dreadlocks however, which are not intended to be

undone may be used for more permanent spells.

Knitting the Knots... (and other methods) Knitting is an excellent way to cast spells using Knot Magic if we don’t have much privacy. The same applies to crochet, macramé and even embroidery. Actually it’s surprising how often embroidery uses French knots, especially for flower centres, and the stitch even turns up in some cross stitch samplers! Even if we can work alone whenever we want, it’s still worth giving this method a try. We never know when it can come in useful. Best of all we don’t have to be experts at knitting, crochet, or embroidery etc. in order to try this. A small knitted square to serve as a pot holder or dishcloth, a tiny piece of cross stitch in a frame, or a handkerchief with a single embroidered flower or initial for example, can incorporate a series of blessings and be given as a gift. Initials can be especially powerful symbols when incorporated into this type of spell. Although they would not normally be sewn in French knots, (satin stitch or even chain stitch would be more appropriate) they can still be surrounded by ‘dots’ which are just French knots placed here and there. The number of knots of course, could also have magical significance as outlined in Chapter Ten. If we are skilled at any of these crafts, however, then the sky really is the limit for this type of work and we can create powerful spells that we can actually wear or carry around with us. Also there are a wide range of threads, yarns and beads that we can work with. For example, if we choose a fluffy yarn such as mohair, then any knot we tie or knit etc., may ‘disappear’ into the overall fluffiness. This isn’t always a bad thing of course and can be incorporated into a suitable spell intention. For example, we could use mohair or brushed yarns when we wished to cast a spell to hide or conceal something or someone. Likewise smooth threads can be used to ensure certain things – journeys or examinations perhaps – go smoothly. Knitted Knot Magic does tend to attract the rather ambitious spell casters.

After all, knitting even the most modest garment will create hundreds if not thousands of knots (which is after all, what a stitch really is). It would be impossible to incorporate a spell into each and every stitch, and we would probably give ourselves some sort of breakdown if we tried. However, it is quite possible to perform a spell over a small, precise group of stitches, perhaps knitted or embroidered specially for the magical intention. There is a long established tradition in some cultures of either breathing on the knot to ‘set’ it, or even spitting on it. Why spitting and breathing? Well, both saliva and breath come from within, and therefore carry some of our essential self that will create a link between our will and intention on the one hand, and the cord (or wool) and the knot on the other. For most of us breathing would probably be more acceptable than spitting. However, if we are casting the spell in private (which, let’s face it, is how most of us do it) and if the finished piece is not intended to be worn, then we should feel quite free to spit if we prefer. After all, it is our spell. I usually breathe on a group of stitches rather than on each stitch as I knit or crochet it and this is a method that would suit a beginner, or someone working on a large item. We shouldn’t be put off because we need to find our group of stitches in a larger piece of work, there are plenty of methods to get around this. For example, we can buy plastic stitch markers or use coloured threads to mark the group, or even concentrate on distinct panels or types of stitch. I’ve always liked using bobble stitches, the sort found in Aran jumpers. A group may also be marked by the addition, say of a single strand of hair, knitted or crocheted etc., into the stitches. Almost invisible to the onlooker unless they know it’s there, but very powerful nevertheless. One word of advice however. If we plan to incorporate a spell into a larger garment, we need to be organised. Due to the nature of knitting, with the back of most adult garments in double knit requiring about 100 stitches across, if we focus on say, just nine of these stitches, we still have to knit

across the rest of the row and back again before recommencing the spell. My own solution for this is to knit as normal, while thinking about the spell intention, but to break off from time to time and breathe on the stitches which will then ‘set’ our intention, while using our will to send the spell on its way. This method can be used on just about any knitted piece, though larger ones, which may take several weeks to complete will require more concentration and magical effort. Still, it can be done! This method is also useful if knitting Fair Isle patterns or Aran, where certain stitches, colours or cables will be easily visible as reminders that we need to pause and ‘set’ the spell. Alternatively – and this is a good method for more monotonous knitting such as garter or stocking stitch, where every stitch looks pretty much like all the rest – we can simply time ourselves, perhaps pausing every twenty minutes. Either set an alarm or make a note of the time we start and need to finish. This is a useful method for any plain knitted garments, or macramé or crochet that use the same stitches over and over again. The beauty of this method is that it appears perfectly natural to pause and look at our work, and we don’t have to be fanatical about the timing. Often people complain they cannot cast a spell because they have no privacy. Yet there are always ways and means to avoid drawing attention to ourselves if we use a little imagination! And imagination, after all, is a huge part of magic. If we decide to cast the spell as we work rather than pausing to fix the spell on a small group of already-knitted stitches, the we should remember to gather our thoughts and concentrate as we work across each row and approach our chosen group. Sometimes it helps to steady and prepare ourselves with a couple of deep breaths a few stitches before we reach the group. Creating a fringe is another method of decorative knotting that lends itself very well to Knot Magic because it is easy and reliable. Fringes can be added to all sorts of garments and accessories, making it ideal when we would like

to keep the knot work close to us (or indeed to someone else if the spell is for them). Tying a fringe also allows us to experiment with the magical symbolism of colour, which adds an extra dimension to our work. The simplest fringes are usually tied like a cow hitch knot or a lark’s head (see Chapter One) . They are simple to tie and unobtrusive on just about any knitted or crocheted project. Of course, the larger the project, the more fringe knots we will need, so it’s best to concentrate on just a few for the purposes of our spell.

The spell is cast... now what? Generally speaking, after casting a spell using Knot Magic, we should either cast the string into running water, burn or bury it. This is to set the magic free, and there’s a very good argument for this, since then the spell is free to do its work. What we are trying to avoid is the risk that by constantly thinking about it, the spell is held back or worse, returns with unexpected (and unwanted) results. However, there are times when we really do need to hold our magic close and then getting rid of our knotted cord could be detrimental to the spell. Protective or healing magic, for example, often works best when the person or object being protected can keep the knot close in some way, or even wear it. Traditionally knotted cords were often worn around the neck or wrist. The easiest way to keep Knot Magic close is either to incorporate the knots into a garment (i.e. knitting, crochet, macramé etc.,) or to perform the magic when tying the sort of knot that usually goes unnoticed, such as a scarf, tie, cravat or belt. These are easy to tie, and don’t always even need to be undone when we take them off, just loosened so that the integrity of the magic can remain intact. If we choose a scarf or tie as the vehicle for our Knot Magic, then we can further enhance the spell using either a tie-pin or brooch. These not only add some symbolism due to their shape and colour but may also have sentimental meaning for the wearer. Often it is the simplest things that help us maintain focus and generally help the spell along.

If necessary, we can always re-affirm our spells by touching the knot and casting the spell again. Purists might frown, insisting that spells only need to be performed once, which is true up to a point. However, there are times we need comfort and reassurance, and feeling oneself surrounded by a magically enhanced scarf or garment can help empower us and increase our self confidence.

Storing magical supplies Unless we cast spells regularly, it is all too easy to lose the cords, beads, threads etc that we thought we had safely set aside. In my experience, whenever they’re needed they seem to have disappeared into a black hole! It is important therefore to keep our ‘magical supplies’ together in a box, tin or bag, specially kept for the purpose and labelled if necessary. Years ago, sellers of winds often stored ready knotted strings in special bags and even sacks. The latter were presumably used for the much larger working ropes, such as those used on ships. For anyone in the business of selling knots for weather magic, then it may well have been sensible to keep certain types of cord together. It might even have been intended to impress the customers! However, most of us do not need to keep pre-knotted strings at the ready, since we rarely need to cast exactly the same spell twice. Also circumstances may have shifted slightly since the original cord was tied, making it unsuitable for the new spell. I have never been a fan of the ‘one size fits all’ school of magical thought, preferring to work on each magical problem separately instead. So why was there ever a tradition of pre-tying the strings? What was the point? The more cynical of course might say there was never any magic in the cords, and having them ‘prepared’ in advance meant that nobody could witness how they were made. Yet there is another explanation. In weather magic, the knots have to be untied by the person who has bought them. This sets free whatever was bound into the original knot, e.g. the wind. The winds were sold as commodities, fully-empowered, so having them ready to sell must have made

sense in busy ports. They could be easily prepared in advance during quiet periods and then sold when the boats docked and the sailors came ashore. This is the opposite of most modern Knot Magic, where the knots are usually supposed to remain tied. So yes, if we decide to concentrate on wind knots, (or indeed any other knot that must be later untied) then it could indeed make sense to create a batch and keep them ready to use. But for the rest of us – just keep the cords, beads etc. handy, and worry about tying them only when we need them!

Chapter Eight Nets and netting Nets and netting are basically an abundance of simple knots tied repeatedly over a series of cords. Although nowadays we tend to think of them only for catching fish, nets have many other uses. They can be made of the finest threads (including real gold and silver) and have, over the years been used decoratively in clothing and jewellery and even as dream catchers! Nets can also be made of steel wire. These were often used in World War I to trap submarines. When I was a child we had some examples of submarine knots at home, but unfortunately nobody seemed to know much about them, other than that my grandfather’s firm had made them during World War I. Yet the story of these submarine nets is worth exploring briefly here. Ships were always vulnerable to attack when moored in ports and harbours, and so barriers were often trailed across and even under the water, in order to prevent fire ships etc., from reaching them. During the American War of Independence in the late eighteenth century, a heavy iron chain barrier was stretched across the Hudson River at West Point to prevent the British navy from getting through. Unfortunately, it was soon realised that chains and barriers often broke, meaning they were at best a delaying measure. By World War I most naval commanders realised that it was now submarines rather than fire ships that presented the greatest threat to fleets resting at port. The solution, especially in Britain, was to protect the ports using specially designed submarine nets. Later it was claimed that no British ship defended by submarine nets was ever hit during the war, although it has been suspected that the nets were not, in reality, anything like as invincible as they were claimed to be (Ordnance Pamphlet 636A, 1944:5). The story of submarine nets can teach us an important magical lesson, however, that something can strike fear into the hearts of others, even if it’s

not actually as powerful as claimed. Time and again in ancient charms we see the spell-caster listing his past successes, and promising to do much worse to his present opponent. It is not just magic, but also psychological warfare. Now of course, claiming powers one does not actually have may well impress the gullible, but sooner or later we will come up against someone (or indeed, something) that will call our bluff and expose the truth. This happened with submarine nets just as it happens with substandard magic. So what we learn from this is that while a certain amount of confidence is essential in our magic (otherwise there isn’t much point in doing it), overbluffing can be very risky. We certainly shouldn’t rely on it, since there will always come a point when we must either act or back off.

How Many Knots in a Net? And What Types? There is no single ‘netting knot’ although some have proved more useful and reliable than others. Even though we may never complete an entire net, we can always tie just a few, each ‘set’ with its own intention (as we saw in Chapter Seven, when we looked at knitted knots). If you are new to this type of work, you can find instructions for making your own nets on the internet. The basic knot shapes however are given below:

This is usually known as the overhand knot. It is straightforward to tie the one cord over the other and is extremely ancient, being found in many scraps of Neolithic netting from Alpine areas and Stone Age Denmark. Unfortunately, because it produces such an insecure knot, it is rarely used nowadays for a working net (Maclaren 1955:85). In spells however it could be useful whenever we wish to build some flexibility into our work, and where, perhaps after a while, it will not matter if the spell is broken or undone.

This is another ancient knot, sometimes referred to as the ‘mesh knot from under’ and is found on the Antrea net, which is the world’s oldest surviving example of netting and is between eight and nine thousand years old. Unlike the overhand knot shown above, this netting style has persisted into the present and is still widely used in Europe and the US. It can also be worked using a netting needle (Maclaren 1955:85). There are many other types of netting knot of course, and a few more are shown below.

The reef knot

Mesh knot from over

Little finger mesh knot If we are determined to use nets and netting in our magic but cannot for the life of us master the knot tying skills required, then by all means we should try using a piece of ready-made netting. However it should always be cleansed first ( to remove any magical formatting or negative energies that might have been present when it was being made). Magically cleansing a net before its first use is a very old tradition. In Scotland it was considered so important that people used whiskey to purify

nets, lines and even the moulds used for shaping the mesh. This is a classic example of ‘As above, so below’ since whiskey (along with other alcoholic spirits such as vodka) have, in emergencies, been used to sterilise wounds in the absence of something more suitable from the medicine cupboard. In this instance therefore, people were ‘sterilising’ (which is really another word for cleansing) the nets and lines on which their livelihoods (and often their lives) depended. Whether we make a small piece of netting ourselves, or use a cleansed, ready-made section, we still have to name the purpose of each knot, before fixing it with our magical attention. The best method is to think of sticking the intention onto each knot before using our will to send it on its way. In the past, both men and women made nets, and their work was always a closely guarded secret. Even to speak of making a net was thought to weaken its protective powers and I think this is often overlooked nowadays, when people seem to want to talk so much about everything they do. Remember: magic is not entertainment for other people! At first sight it may seem curious to have had so many taboos connected with line and net making but I believe it was because fishing had always been so dangerous. Putting out to sea in often very small boats, people were at the mercy of the elements, risking their lives and sometimes coming home empty handed. Small wonder if they believed they were at risk from malignant forces while making the lines and nets upon which not only their livelihood, but also their lives, depended. Down the centuries, a whole host of rituals and superstitions connected with the making of nets developed, all concerned in one way or another with magical protection. Although making fishing lines might not seem connected with knots and Knot Magic, anyone who has ever tried fishing with rod and line knows that knots are essential if only for attaching the hooks! Clearly if magical protection was an issue, then taboos and traditions had to apply to making the thread into fishing lines as well. And of course many of the lines were used for making nets. Years ago, one of the biggest practical problems facing rope and line makers

was finding a suitable clear space where they could work. This had to be several metres long on level ground. In areas around rope-works in large cities, there are often alleyways or narrow streets called ‘The Rope Walk.’ Once the site was chosen, the rope-maker had to carry not only his cords and any tools he required but also bread, cheese and ale with him. These were not for his lunch, but were given as offerings to anyone he happened to meet either while on his way or when working on the cord. Similar customs were also observed when the cord was either twisted up into ‘the great line’ or made up into a net. The use of offerings suggests some sort of ritual. Perhaps once made to gods, they were now given to induce intruders leave quickly, so as not to interfere with concentration. And yes, human nature being what it is, the prospect of free ale, bread and cheese might actually have enticed some people to go and keep the lonely line-maker company! However, as a deterrent to anyone who was simply after a free snack, strangers were usually invited to help with the work as a way of reversing any possible bad luck they brought with them (Macleod Banks 1939:344). Not everyone was welcomed however. Some people were considered inherently unlucky, and even if they offered to help they would be refused. Interruptions by people who were considered an ‘ill fit’ could so disturb the fishermen that they would throw a finished net on the fire rather than risk using it (Macleod Banks 1939:344). There was also a curious prohibition against anyone other than the owner stepping over the lines. Instead they had to be lifted up to enable people to pass underneath. This sounds curiously like a reversal of the old superstition about walking under ladders! If it was impossible to lift the line because it was just too heavy, then people simply had to walk around it. This also reminds me of another old tradition, that of jumping over a broom at weddings. It suggests that certain objects such as fishing lines and brooms can either be affected by or actively change the luck of anyone passing over them. Therefore the right to step over these objects was both prized and

restricted; in the case of the broom it was only the married couple who jumped over it, and in the case of the newly made fishing line, only the owner could step over it. This link between brooms and fishing is both unexpected and interesting. Sometimes a besom (the traditional witch’s broom) would be thrown after a new net when it first left the house. At other times it might be taken out to sea in the boat. This suggests that besoms and nets were both once associated with abundance and fertility. And when we think about it, this does make sense. A broom sweeps leaves, dust, dirt etc., gathering them into one place, while a net gathers a shoal of fish and pulls them out of the sea. The broom drives things together in a given direction and the net collects and removes them. Taken together, they have an important magical role to play. Of course, we may not want – or be able – to make our own lines and cords nowadays, but it’s still worth looking at the old traditions surrounding them since many can still be adapted and incorporated into our own magic. Just as with ready-made netting, so we should also cleanse our cords, ropes and threads before use. We never know what sort of conditions they were made in, nor the state of mind of the person making, packing, transporting or selling them. A little extra attention on our part can make our magical work considerably easier!

Why use a net in Knot Magic? Obviously we don’t have to use nets. Some people are happy to just tie three knots in a string for their rest of their magical lives, and there’s nothing wrong with that. However, knowing a few variations can help to make our magic more targeted since there is always going to be that one spell that needs a little extra push in the right direction. Therefore the more techniques we have at our disposal, the better. Nets are excellent whenever we need to provide our spell with many different parts for a single intention. In protective magic, while fishermen may gather fish together in their nets, so magically our nets can gather people, animals or things etc., together and remove them to a safer place.

For example, if we need to work protective magic for a large group, we should allocate one knot to each person (group, animal or even event or project). That means we need at least as many knots in the net as the number of people or animals etc., who are involved although if there are more knots it doesn’t really matter. If we do not know the individual names, then each knot could represent a particular age group, or even have male, female, and transgender groups if appropriate. The possibilities are endless, they just require a little forethought. In a ready-made net we cannot tie each knot personally, but if we know the names of the people we are trying to protect, (and always provided there aren’t too many) then the best method is to dab at each knot with a permanent coloured marker pen, while saying their name (or group) aloud. Clearly we need to be organised for this, making a list of the people to be mentioned and crossing them off as we work. Another magical intention well suited to using nets is when we want to ‘gather’ knowledge, i.e. to learn a large or difficult topic. For this I would recommend a small mesh net (rather like an old fashioned hair-nets) so that information is less likely to magically slip through the gaps. Taking the piece of netting we then fill it with items we have named after the topics or facts we want to recall. These need to be suitable for the type of net used. A relatively robust net could be filled with a few shells or pebbles, whereas something more delicate might be better filled with slips of paper. Of course this will need some practical underpinning. It would be nonsense to expect to pass our exams using magic if we were going out partying every night instead of revising! What the magic does, in this instance, is help us focus and remove barriers to our learning and memory. But we still need to study and revise. People sometimes feel this approach is a cop-out, but I beg to differ. I think often we do study and revise, but encounter mental and emotional blocks that

prevent us retaining the information. These blocks need dismantling, and a spell is often the best solution. Once they are out of the way we can get on with studying and revising as before, but this time the work is more easily understood and the knowledge is better retained. If we feel we should state our intention aloud, then the ‘just as... so may...’ formula would probably be the most useful. For example: Just as I gather together these topics, so may I gather them in my mind and learn and remember them. This should be spoken as we finally bring together all the items inside our net. We should then tie or bind the net so that the pieces don’t fall out again (ideally we want to gain knowledge permanently!) and finish off by tying three simple knots in a piece of cord to pull it in and hold it all together. Nets were not always made from cords, some were made from willow which traditionally has the magical property of protecting whatever it holds. This may be one reason it was so popular in basket making. At different times and in different parts of the world, flax and grass have also been used in net making. We could adapt this by using a strip of, say, willow bark to tie the net together. Knot Magic – with or without nets - obeys the basic ‘just as... so may’ rules. For example, when fishing, the more fish that were caught, the better. Therefore the best time to make a net was when the tide was in full flow, since this was a natural time of abundance. This is also an example of ‘As above, so below’, where the work is charged or magnetised by natural phenomena such as moon phases (or in this case, tides which are, of course, driven by the moon). Tide charts for the coastal areas nearest our homes are usually available in local newspapers or on the internet. A net intended to gather something together is best left intact, at least until the initial purpose is achieved, so there is rarely any need to burn or bury it straight after the spell has been cast. There is an exception to this, however.

If we have used it to gather

something unpleasant or harmful in order to remove it from our lives, then the net (and its contents, if any) can be disposed of quickly using the traditional burn/bury/or throw into running water method. Otherwise, and especially if the net has been used in a spell to gain knowledge it’s important when the time for disposal comes, to make it clear that we are setting the knowledge free again for others to make use of it, and not destroying it. Cutting the net open is the best method. It would be a mistake to view nets as only suitable for a rather passive type of spell; in fact they can be used aggressively as well. In history we find the retiarius, a type of gladiator who wielded a trident and a net. In skilled hands these were quite deadly. So if we decide to base our magic on this aggressive and active model, our net can be used to magically trap someone or something. Nor is this always done in order to harm others. For example, we may want to trap someone we believe is cheating on us or on someone else, or who is cheating in an examination or at work. We might even want to trap a fugitive and prevent his escape. In such work I would first fold the net so that it is long and narrow (rather like a ribbon) and then bind with another cord, focusing on my intention each time I tie a knot. Such spells work very well with the ‘Just as... so may’ formula. Although pre-made nets and netting are extremely useful, if we intend making our own, we really need to practice first and there are books and internet videos we can use for this. It is important to ensure we are confident before creating netting for our spells; if we are concentrating too hard on tying the knots correctly then we won’t be able to focus properly (or at all) on the magic in hand. Remember: The physical act of tying of the knot should always be second nature to us long before it is incorporated into our magical work. Synthetic and natural cords both have their supporters and detractors. While natural fibres are usually pleasant to work with, and are far less slippery than many manmade cords, synthetic ones offer a wide range of colours and

textures. It’s also worth taking a moment to understand why they replaced so many natural cords in the twentieth century. A little background knowledge can go a long way towards improving our magical practices. When used in nets, natural fibres had two big disadvantages: they ripped and were damaged easily, meaning an entire catch could be lost in moments. They were also prone to rotting due to constant exposure to sea water. Up until the mid nineteenth century, linen and hemp were usually used for net making. Unfortunately such nets were very heavy when wet, making them difficult to haul aboard. Later, factory-made nets of cotton were preferred, since they were much lighter and easier to use. Yet even these still rotted and tore. Traditionally, as a precaution, the nets had been soaked in a procedure known as barking before being taken out to sea for the first time. The solution was made using oak or birch bark that was boiled until the liquid reduced into a thick, dark, tarry mixture. Bearing in mind that most of this was done locally rather than on an industrial scale, it’s not surprising that even lighting the fire for the bark solution was shrouded in its own folklore. For example, the fire had to be started using only a burning coal or lump of peat from a neighbour’s house. Obtaining these items was no easy task since it was widely believed that giving such fuel away would allow the ‘luck’ of the house to leave with it. Fire has always had strong associations with magic, and keeping a fire going was often a matter of great pride. In some old houses it was claimed that the fire had never gone out in over two hundred years! Although this might seem a tad exaggerated, years ago most heating and cooking was done on the kitchen fire, so keeping it alight for months – if not years – was certainly possible. As a precaution, when a burning coal, stick or lump of peat was handed over (or occasionally stolen!) in order to light the barking fire, people would sometimes throw salt on the fire just as the person carrying the coal left the house. This would have been intended to protect those remaining in the

house and to ensure their luck did not leave. It would also have made the fire flare up – a real touch of showmanship! Salt has long been credited with protective properties. I can remember many years ago, when we were under psychic attack, my mother-in-law throwing old shoes and salt on our kitchen fire, even though she was deeply religious and by no means involved in anything ‘witchy’. To her this was simply a tradition that had to be observed and in no way compromised her own beliefs. Nowadays, when many of us have more freedom of religious choice, it is easy to forget how people were once persecuted for their beliefs. Yet despite the hysteria of the witch hunts, there were times when it all quietened down, and this must have allowed many of the old ideas to survive. Folk magic was curiously persistent and resisted all attempts to eradicate it.

Adapting old traditions to modern Knot Magic Even if we cannot – or do not wish to – recreate old traditions exactly, it is still worth examining them so we can adapt the most relevant parts for our own magical work. For example, we could use natural thread for the net (or indeed, an ordinary knot on a length of cord), and then submerge this in a home-made, hot bark mixture. This would add a layer of protection to the cord itself; perhaps not necessary for every spell, but useful in certain situations. Now obviously it is better that we do not go around stripping the bark off living trees, but if we go out after a storm then the chances are we will find some pieces have been blown down that we can use. It may not be enough to please a nineteenth century fisherman, but it will suit our purposes very well indeed. Remember that we need to preserve our cords and nets from magical, not physical decay. Thus all we need is a small amount of bark boiled in a small amount of water, not a couple of gallons of black, tarry slime. Why oak and birch bark? Traditionally the oak was sacred to the most important deities in many traditions, e.g. Zeus, Jupiter, Thunor, Perkunas and Thor who were all thunder and storm deities. It had probably long been observed how often oak trees were struck by lightning. This made it seem as

though they had a special relationship with storms, especially when their branches caught fire. This must have been a dazzling sight, as though they were burning with a fire sent directly from the gods. Oak was often used (along with ash wood) for solstice fires and was a popular choice for Yule logs. Some kings and emperors exploited this link between gods and the oak tree to enhance their own importance. Roman kings, for example, wore oak leaf crowns which was a way of identifying themselves with Jupiter and his power. In ancient Greece, even ordinary people associated with the unique powers of the oak, believing they were the ‘first mothers,’ while the ‘first fathers’ were the gods, who once dwelt in the trees along with the bees who were thought to be immortal souls. Years ago, the oak’s magical properties as a prolonger and preserver of life, were clearly just as important as its physical properties. Fishing was a dangerous occupation, so it made sense to use whatever magical means were available to ensure one’s safety. And the oak is simply buzzing with this sort of power. For example, many old oaks were believed to extend a person’s life by seven years if one made small holes around the trunk and then jumped around it seven times while at the same time keeping one hand on the trunk and touching each of the holes with one foot. One needed to be very agile for this, it sounds extremely complicated and must have been quite a sight! Although hopping around an oak tree has nothing to do with nets and netting, it does however show the tree’s strong associations with preserving and extending life. In some traditions, oak sap was even thought to resurrect the dead. Among the people of northern Europe, especially the Celtic and Germanic tribes, it was believed that the powers inherent in trees could be passed on to humans, which may be where sayings such as, ‘Touch wood’ or ‘Knock on wood’ originated. The other ingredient in the barking mixture was birch bark. Like the oak, the birch tree was plentiful in northern Europe (though not so much in the lands around the Mediterranean). It was also dedicated to the thunder deities Thor and Donar and was popular for torches because it burns easily.

Unlike the oak, however, birch is often associated with female deities such as Freya, and Odin’s wife, Frigg. In Russia it is known as the Lady of the Forest, while in Ireland it is associated with Brigid’s magical fire. There is a theory that the name Brigid originally derived from bher(e)g, an Indo European word meaning ‘shining white’. (Hagenader (2005:42). With the coming of Christianity, those earlier beliefs and practices that could not be easily Christianised were demonised, and the early Church often portrayed birch trees as intrinsically evil. This suggests the birch was probably sacred and venerated within in the earlier pagan traditions, hence the later need to discredit it. We might have thought this would have been enough to put most people off using birch in their barking solutions. The fact that it didn’t, shows how powerful its protective qualities were believed to be. Of course, the cynical will claim that oak and birch were only chosen because of their chemical properties and yes, this may be partly true. Observation may well have shown that oak and birch somehow protected nets. However, I suspect the trees’ magical properties must have been important too and that these were closely linked with their physical properties. Associated with the preservation of life and with various deities, there must have been some feeling – perhaps reduced to little more than a hunch by the nineteenth century – that dunking the nets in this mixture bestowed magical and physical protection not only on the nets but also on the fishermen who used them. Our next task is to adapt some of this into our own magical practice. For example, if we want our spell intention to have a permanent effect, then we might want to treat our net or cord in much the same way that fishermen did years ago before setting out to sea. Of course, since we are working magically and have no intention of actually setting out to sea and fishing for our supper, we don’t need to recreate exactly the same the oak/birch mixture. And this is true for other parts of our spell, too. We don’t need to slavishly copy anything our ancestors did, instead we need to adapt their methods to suit ourselves. This is something we need to

examine in more detail in the next chapter when we begin to put our spell together.

Chapter Nine PUTTING OUR SPELL TOGETHER It’s no secret that I prefer very simple, straight forward magic whenever possible, so when I cast a spell using Knot Magic, I tend to stick to a plain cord, the sort of thing used for tying up parcels. My knots are simple and easy-to-tie, and I finish them off by ‘setting’ them using my breath. Never forget that in magic, our intention and the will are everything. Everything else, as they say, is just gravy. However, I have no problem when others sometimes want a little more than that from their spells provided it is their own choice and not forced on them by others. There is no single ‘right way’ to cast a spell, and we always have a choice in our magic – what we do, when, why and how we do it. A plain spell today, a fancier one tomorrow. We just need to learn to understand our own choices. For example, we might be attracted to using coloured cords in our spells. They look striking and perhaps they help us to feel ‘witchy.’ However, unless we understand why one colour might be more appropriate than another for our spell, then it’s meaningless. The colour we choose doesn’t have to be traditional, but it must have some sort of meaning for us in order for it to play its proper part in the ritual. We should never rush through this part of the planning just in order to get on with casting our spell. Unless we understand the magical processes involved and how we both affect and are affected by them, our magic will be little more than play-acting. So what follows is much more detailed than we probably need, and it certainly looks more complicated than it really is. Please don’t be put off by it! Despite my desire to keep my own magic simple, I realise it still needs explaining in some detail, especially when we’re starting out or just learning some new technique. That way, solitaries and those working in small groups with little guidance will understand exactly what I mean at each and every step of the way.

Once we understand the underlying reasons for everything we do, we can easily put a spell together for just about any intention.

How this works Each part of the spell is given its own section (sometimes with subsections) explaining its role in the spell, and how to adapt it for our own use. I also explain which parts of the spell are essential and which are optional. That way readers will be able to put it together as they feel suits them best in order to create their own, personalised spell. As you will see, Knot Magic requires very little in terms of essential items apart from some cord and maybe some scissors or a knife. Anything else we decide to add along the way is entirely optional. You will notice though that I don’t suggest casting a circle. In Knot Magic we don’t really need one. After all, we are not calling on higher entities, or questioning angelic beings or demons, so why hamper ourselves with the trappings of a more ceremonial type of magic? That said, if we are working Knot Magic as part of a group, then casting a circle could be an effective way of keeping all our intentions in one place. It’s surprising how easily group intentions can be distracted. However as solitaries we need to conserve our energy, so it’s unnecessary to dissipate it on calling the quarters and casting the circle etc. Instead, in my own experience anyway, it’s better to make careful, focussed preparations and then just get on with the spell. Planning ahead often discourages people. It shouldn’t. Done properly it saves us time in the long term. In the early days, it can be a bit of a nuisance and the temptation is always to skip it. Please don’t. If we take a little time to read and plan what we want to do in these early stages, it will reward us handsomely later on. Our magic will become quicker, smoother and more organised. Preparation is a blanket term that includes not only working out our spell intention, but also gathering together everything we are likely to need. This means we have to work out the method in advance and in some detail. When

performing magic and rituals we are constantly making choices, so it’s important to keep a record of everything we do, especially in the early days before certain types of spell become second nature to us. So we shouldn’t be afraid to make notes as we work, jotting everything down in our Magical Journal/Book of Shadows so that we can refer to it next time. This groundwork is never wasted. Even if it shows us what not to do, then we will have learned something.

Planning the Spell intention. (Essential) This is so basic to all spell work that it still amazes me how some people will still try to do without it. Understanding what we want to achieve with our magic is essential. Write it down, then whittle it to a single sentence or word. The essence of the intention, if you like. Also, we should consider all the possible fall-out and pitfalls attendant upon our intention. Sometimes we’re told that a ‘good’ intention doesn’t have any potential to cause mayhem. That’s not true. The old dictum, ‘Wishes and curses are like old hens, they always come home to roost,’ was drummed into me when I was a child and I remain mindful of it now. We ignore the mysterious ‘Laws of Unintended Consequences’ at our peril! Now obviously, there is a huge difference between planning and agonising over something. Mostly all we need is common sense since most pitfalls can be spotted a mile off, and these are the things we are looking for. What can go wrong needs to be balanced against what can go right. Think, consider and think again. It’s not just a matter of going after the things we want, either. Just because someone wants something doesn’t mean they should have it – just ask any harassed parent trying to navigate around supermarket with a few toddlers in tow! Our desires, followed blindly, can lead us into real trouble if we don’t think them through properly first. That said, I have nothing against spells for personal gain per se. Problems only arise when our desires are unreasonable, greedy, or do not care about any harm they may cause others. Even then it is often more a question of the

spell-caster’s character, rather than the spell’s intention. And this is as true in life as it is in magic – yet another case of ‘As above, so below.’ Unless we are inherently selfish it is unlikely to be much of a problem for most of us. In fact, as I’ve previously remarked, for most people the greatest risk is that in concentrating too much upon the pitfalls, we end up casting a spell that achieves the opposite of what we intended. For example, in our desire to avoid unemployment, sickness, etc., we focus so much on the negative that we end up casting a spell to bring the very things we didn’t want into our lives. Fortunately this problem can be easily overcome with a little sensible preparation. This is where writing out our intention beforehand is so useful – it helps ensure our spell is properly directed. If we are concentrating on things we don’t want we will soon notice. And as we plan, we have to make a series of practical choices, too. What equipment will we need? What sort of cord? What colour? (Since this latter question is such a wide subject, Chapter Five has already dealt with it in more depth.) Basically the type of cord we use is largely dictated by (a) what is available, (b) what we personally find easy to work with, (c) the type of knots we intend to tie and (d) whether we intend soaking it in a bark solution beforehand. There are reasons both for and against creating a bark solution: Reasons against – It makes the spell more complicated, takes longer, needs more equipment, and we need to be comfortable working with fairly damp cords which may handle differently from the dry ones. (One way around this is to dip the cord or net after the knots have been tied.) Most spells do not specifically require this extra effort, so it is basically is a matter of personal choice. Reasons in favour – Soaking cords in a bark solution is an established tradition to protect the integrity of cords and nets, drawing upon the magical properties inherent in the tree from which the bark is taken. If our spell concerns the safety or preservation of an individual, animal or place, then we might feel it’s a good idea to include it. Examples could include travel

spells, leaving home, etc. I rarely create bark solutions for my spells, except in exceptional circumstances. However, such circumstances do arise from time to time, so it is worth knowing how to create this little addition to our spell repertoire – just in case. I have therefore set the instructions out in some detail here.

Rituals for Creating the Bark Solution, Soaking the Cords (optional) Creating the Bark Solution requires several, small sub-rituals which I outline in some detail here simply to show how they can be organised and in order to try and avoid misunderstandings. These small sub-rituals need to be performed in their proper sequence, and once we start, there isn’t really a point where we can turn around and take a break! The whole thing will not take all that long, but it’s important to have a trial run at it, just to make sure we know what we’re doing and what we’ll need. Just as the original tarry solution was intended to preserve the net or line, so this, simpler version is intended to magically preserve the net or cord in our spell. Then, once the bark has boiled, we have to allow the solution to cool a little before soaking the cords in it. This is the usual order in which we need to do things:

The Lighting of the Fire Ritual (optional) The first step is to begin with a brief Lighting of the Fire Ritual. This physically marks the point when the spell begins, so it is important to be well organised before getting the matches out! Collecting the bark in advance should be done whenever we have chance and then stored carefully so we have some to hand whenever we need it. Basic equipment: A source of heat (kitchen stove, camping stove); means of ignition if necessary (matches, lighter); bark;

water (with additional hot water for topping up); a heatproof container suitable for use with the type of heat we will be using (old saucepans are ideal – we certainly don’t need cauldrons for this!); cords or netting; tongs for removing the bark from the solution; somewhere safe like an old baking tin or plate where we can put the bark after removing it from the solution. Kitchen towel or old cloths for mopping up any spills Optional equipment: Beads (if used), words of the spell (if we have written these out beforehand), thick pad of kitchen towel (if we intend to dry the cords first before tying the knots in them); knife or scissors to cut the cord if it’s not already been cut; another pad of kitchen towel or a clean cloth to wipe the knife; a tape measure, ruler or stick, for measuring the cord. Method There is something about fire that always sets the scene for whatever is to follow. Although I don’t like the idea of performing ‘stagey’ magic, there are times when doing something dramatic such as lighting a fire or candle helps to mentally and magically position us just where we need to be at that moment. So – we should collect together everything we’ll need and position ourselves fairly close to our chosen source of heat, with our notebook (where we’ve jotted down some preparatory details) at the ready, and a pen so we can make more notes if necessary (especially in rehearsals and practice runs.) Lighting the fire illustrates one of the problems with adapting old customs for modern use. After all, it’s highly unlikely we can go and borrow burning coals from our neighbours. Most people don’t burn coal on open fires any more, and if they do they certainly won’t appreciate us going and taking a red hot coal from the hearth! And often it isn’t possible to build a suitable fire ourselves.

We have to be safety conscious, too. Even if we build garden bonfires every year in November, it’s quite a different matter to heat something safely up to boiling point in the middle of an open fire and then retrieve it again. The same goes for barbecues – great for grilling, but not so great for boiling in a container. And please, don’t even think about trying to heat anything over a candle – it’s dangerous, unstable and the candle will simply not generate sufficient heat safely. In my view it’s better to use a small camping gas stove or even our domestic stove or cooker. Judging how much water to put in the pan with the bark is not always easy. It’s tempting to use very little since this will come to the boil more quickly. However, boiling water soon turns to steam, and a small amount of water may evaporate too quickly, so we need to be present and keeping an eye on the pot or saucepan at all times. It should go without saying, but never be tempted to leave anything unattended – horrible accidents can happen that way. We either have to make sure we have everything we need to hand, or be prepared to do without. What we need to ensure at this stage is that we end up with enough solution so we can soak our cords or netting in it after the bark has been removed. If it is evaporating too quickly, (and this can catch us out if we aren’t paying proper attention) then all we have to do is top it up with some very hot water from the kettle (cold water will slow things down again too much). It saves a lot of time if, during the period when we are testing and preparing things and before we get around to the actual spell, we note down in our Magical Journal the rough quantities of ingredients we need. Then, on future occasions we can just refer back to it instead of having to work it all out again.

The Ritual of the First Flame (optional) We start the lighting of the fire ritual with what I call the Ritual of the First Flame which sounds far more grand than it really is. Again making a ritual of this is optional, and we can leave it out and simply strike a match without

any more ado if we prefer. If we do decide to incorporate this ritual however, then remember its purpose is just to symbolise the tradition of taking a flame (either from somewhere, or someone) in order to start the fire that will heat the bark mixture. It’s worth knowing how to do it just in case we need it at a later date. As we’ve already seen, there was a long-standing tradition that a coal had to be taken from a neighbour’s fire in order to start the process to boil the bark mixture. Nowadays, when heat and light are available at the flick of a switch, it’s difficult to realise just how much skill goes into making a long lasting, reliable fire. Building a huge bonfire is not that difficult, but creating a controlled fire that will give strong heat, without too much smoke or flame, and which will not easily go out is quite an art. Therefore taking a coal or lump of peat from a neighbour’s fire was no small matter and could disturb the balance of the fire. Besides, fuel was valuable and sometimes hard to come by. Salt was traditionally thrown on the fire after taking a lump of peat from it, but there are risks with this since salt often makes a fire grow and splutter – at least temporarily. So if we intend trying this, we should use only a very little salt and preferably do it outside with the means to extinguish the flames if necessary. (Incidentally, there is nothing all that magical in why the fire grows when salt is thrown on it, it’s just a chemical reaction.) A camping gas stove can be lit using a match, and probably the safest way is to use a long Cook’s match. This in turn can be lit from another source. For example, we could ask someone else to light a candle, and then, when we are ready, take a light from it, using a long Cook’s match that we then use to light the stove. And there we have it – taking fire from someone else! Very simple, very effective and it does what’s needed. The thing to remember is that magic is all around us. Really, it is. For example, supposing we decide to use our domestic gas cooker for this part of the spell. People are often put off doing this because instead of using a match (which they feel seems more authentic, somehow), they have to use the

cooker’s built-in electronic ignition instead. Yet there is magic there, too because the ignition often contains quartz. This is a fascinating crystal frequently found in ancient stone circles, and it gives off an electrical charge in the form of a spark when it is struck. This then ignites the gas. Thus even heating the mixture on a gas cooker contains its own magic, and does the job for us just as well. Possible opening statements for this ritual could be as simple as, ‘Element of fire, begin the transformation of this bark and water into a protective solution.’ All right, it may not sound particularly magical or witchy, but it does the job. It states what we are trying to achieve leaving no room for doubt. Alternatively, instead of calling upon the element of fire, we could address a sun deity (if we are in the habit of working with them) or whichever deity or power we usually work with. If we prefer not to address anyone or anything, we could simply state: ‘May the transformation of this bark and water into a protective solution now begin.’ Alternatively, using the ‘Just as... so may...’ formula we might prefer to say something like: ‘Just as the heat begins to build, so may the magical energies increase in this spell.’ And of course we can still use the last two opening statements even if we are using an all-electric cooker since all we are doing is marking the beginning of heating the bark and water. This ceremony – it need only be a few words – defines the action and relates it to the spell as a whole. It also shows exactly where the magic begins to build up. We can continue with this type of magical narrative commentary as the water comes to the boil if we wish. Nowadays I don’t usually find it necessary, but

I did when I was younger and it helped me stay focused. ‘Just as the water bubbles and boils, so may it absorb the magical properties of protection that are inherent in the bark.’ Remember that the most effective magic is always what we feel in our minds, hearts and souls. If something doesn’t feel right then we are not at ease (literally ‘dis-eased’!) and when that happens it can wreck our magical work. It’s a bit like trying to run while carrying heavy weights. I make no apologies here for putting in so much detail. So often, it’s the little things that make us stumble in our magic. For example, how long should we let the water boil? This is not as strange as it sounds: you might be surprised just how many people do not know how to time a boiled egg! Basically, water boils once bubbles begin to rise from the base of the saucepan to the surface of the water (it’s a bit different with other liquids like milk which can easily boil over.) At first it’s just one or two bubbles, then more, speeding up until eventually we reach what’s called a rolling boil. I prefer a gentle boil which is not as fast, and it’s safer and easier to control, so turn the heat down at this stage. Once the bubbles are rising quickly, that’s when we need to start timing. But for how long? Well, since we’re never going to produce the traditional thick, tarry sludge, I don’t believe it matters that much. The whole ritual is just symbolic. We might like to set aside a certain number of minutes (three, seven and nine are all popular magical numbers) bearing in mind that the longer the water boils, the more it will evaporate). Putting a lid on the saucepan will slow down evaporation, and some people feel it increases the power in the liquid by preventing the steam from escaping. Some people seem to have an innate sense of magic. They just ‘know’ when it feels right to move on. If you are one of these then go with it! Even if we start out with a plan, we should never feel bound by it. If we feel something needs changing then we should do it, remembering to make a note of the changes afterwards for future reference.

However, changing a plan because we feel it’s necessary is quite different from simply drifting along, hoping to somehow guess what to do. Planning – provided we are not too rigid about it – gives us confidence which helps to set our magic free. Drifting aimlessly tends to have the opposite effect. The next step, once the water has boiled for however many minutes we have chosen, is to turn off the heat. If we are using an electric cooker we should remove the container from the hot ring. Then we need to remove the bark, preferably with a pair of kitchen tongs or something similar, and put the pieces out of the way to one side. We can ritually dispose of these later, once the spell is done, but there is no point leaving the spell at this stage to do this until everything is finished. It’s a matter of personal choice whether we want to put the cords in straight away or wait until the liquid has cooled a bit. Never put synthetic cords into boiling – or near boiling – water. They will probably melt or fuse together. While we wait we can still – if we wish – continue with the next part of the spell.

Cutting the Cord and Cleansing the Blade(optional) Although I have marked this as an optional ritual, we will indeed need at some point to cut the cord or threads we intend using. However, it is entirely up to us whether we make a ritual out of this or simply get on with it without further ado. There is no hard and fast rule, but at some point during the planning stage, we must decide. In a way the cutting marks a type of birth, like cutting the cord of a newborn, i.e. giving birth to the spell, showing that the cord is no longer part of the ball of string (or whatever) but has instead become part of the magic. Of course it’s not essential and many people just cut their piece of cord without really thinking about its significance, preferring to concentrate on the knots and the spell intention itself. Reasons against performing this ritual: Well, it’s yet another layer of ritual, it takes time and for some people at any rate, will drain their energy. We certainly shouldn’t do it if we think it’s going to be a ritual too far!

Reasons in favour of performing this ritual : It helps to keep us focused during the preparatory part of the spell. Some people also find it helps them build up their energy and intention. As always, it’s our choice. While some welcome the little extras, feeling they help keep them focussed, others regard them as a distraction. My own approach is to see if they add something to the spell I am doing (each spell being different). If they do, then I include them, otherwise I leave them out. Personally I quite like making a small ritual of cutting the cord, if only because the phrase ‘cutting the cord’ has such strong associations with birth, and I like the idea of giving birth to a spell. Returning to the practicalities of this little ritual, in my opinion there is a great deal of nonsense talked about knives versus scissors. Both will do the job, although knives have a rather dodgy reputation and some people really don’t like using them. As someone who has managed in the past to cut herself very badly using both knives and scissors – and has the scars to show for it - my only recommendation is to treat whatever we use with care and respect! Knives or scissors, whatever we choose should be symbolically cleaned, preferably with a white cloth, although white tissues, handkerchiefs and even kitchen towel will do the job at a pinch. White has long symbolised purity and therefore aids our visualising of the magical cleansing process. The important thing in any spell is that we believe in what we are doing. If we just go through the motions, or worse, feel a bit embarrassed by the whole thing, then we may as well not bother. We will not be giving our magic a fair chance. Do it with conviction or not at all. So – we should take our cloth in one hand, the cutting implement in the other and gently polish the blade (or blades if we’re using scissors), taking care not to cut ourselves in the process. Make sure the sharp edge of the blade faces away from our fingers. This is not the only technique for cleansing of course. My own preferred

method is to breathe along the length of each blade and mentally visualise blowing away any magical debris that might be present. Then – but only if we felt it was necessary – we could lightly polish the blade as well. Then we say, either aloud or mentally, something like: With this cloth I cleanse this blade (or ‘these blades’ if we are using scissors). Be clean, be pure of intention, sweet blade, and do my will. Blessed be. Some people prefer ‘So mote it be’ at this point, or some other sort of final statement to bring the ritual to an end. It really doesn’t matter as long as we feel comfortable and happy with it. At this point all we need is to establish what we are doing and why as part of our magical narrative. Whatever method we choose for cleansing, once it’s done we simply place the knife or scissors on the white cloth, kitchen towel etc., ready for use. *** Note: Do not be tempted to do the cleansing hours before cutting the cord. Do the cleansing and then cut the cord as soon as possible afterwards. If we cleanse something and then leave it hanging around while we go off and hang washing on the line or play online games we will defeat the object of the exercise. With the best will in the world we do not know what energies the blade(s) will pick up in the meantime. So stay focused. possible.

Keep everything together and proceed as smoothly as ***

Next we need to measure the length of cord or size of the netting. If we have done our preparations well, we will already know exactly how long the thread needs to be, and will have a measuring stick, ruler or tape measure to hand. I don’t like using soft tape measures for this type of measuring very much. A ruler or a marked stick is much easier to handle. If we intend casting knot spells often, we can even make our own measure from a length of wood, perhaps decorating it with patterns and symbols and

marking it with the lengths we use most frequently. Personally I would never use a cord less than about six inches (15 cm) long, because it is too fiddly. The only exception I would make would be for a very fine thread such as an embroidery or crochet thread, or even hair. However, I would never soak these in a barking solution in case it damaged them. Again any words used should be as simple and succinct as possible such as: With this knife, I cut this cord that I am using in this spell to ...(just state the intention very briefly here, e.g. ‘heal Fred,’ ‘find a new job’.) Now I know at this stage some of you will be shaking your heads and saying ‘But you’re just stating what you’re doing!’ Yes. And that is just as it should be. A magical narrative informs the universe, cosmos, our deities, higher powers or whatever we choose to work with, by giving voice to our intention. Of course, if we don’t want to make a ritual of cutting the cord then it doesn’t matter and we don’t have to say anything, we just slice through it in silence and get on with tying the knots. However, if we make a ritual for a certain part of any spell then we really should declare what we’re doing, either aloud or mentally. If we are using a ready-made piece of netting then the next part of the spell is to hold it above the cooling liquid and drop it in, using the wooden spoon to make sure every part is submerged. Again we keep our words simple. Something like: May this net absorb the magical protective properties of this solution of bark and water. Be powerful. Be blessed. How long should the net or cord remain in the solution? It depends whether we are going to tie the knots in wet cord or prefer to let it dry off a bit. If we don’t mind using wet cords, then we can leave it in the solution until it is at least cool enough to handle. If we want them to dry out a bit then we need to remove the cord and place it on a pad of clean kitchen towel to help dry it out.

And if we are really in a hurry, there is absolutely no reason why we cannot tie the cords first and then dunk them in the bark solution. It’s our spell after all!

Releasing or Changing the Colour (optional) I’ve dealt with the procedures for this in some detail back in Chapter Five. If we intend changing colours, either adding or removing them, this is the point at which we do it.

Tying the Knots (essential) This part of the spell involves the tying of the knots and is really the body of the spell. By this point we should already have made our choices regarding the following: (a) Our exact intention (b) How many knots we intend tying (c) Whether we intend adding beads (which can symbolise knots as well as contain their own symbolism). Now really by this stage I should not have needed to draw your attention to (a), (b) and (c) above. However, during some of my Knot Magic workshops I have come across people who desperately want to ‘get on with the magic’ despite not knowing what they want, nor even how many knots they intend tying. It is as though they hope it will somehow all take care of itself once they start. It doesn’t. Instead what usually happens is that they end up frustrated while the spell lacks direction and power. So – no matter how complex the situation may seem – the spell intention must always be unambiguous, clear and well thought out. This can take time and effort. Don’t skimp on either. It will pay off in the long term...

Chapter Ten Numbers and their significance This is such a large subject that I feel it deserves a section all to itself. When deciding how many knots to tie, it’s usually easier to concentrate on just a few in a relatively short length of string or rope. Indeed, there is nothing wrong with a single knot since it can symbolise so many things, from humankind to the world, the cosmos and even our own unique individualism. For monotheists, the number one represents the Divine. And sometimes this is all we need. The number two traditionally represents balance, particularly if we think of two items weighed against each other in an old fashioned balance scale. Conversely, it can also symbolise discord, or the ‘one’ that has broken away, separated or deserted from the other. With this in mind, two knots could be used in order to heal or create conflict. Two may also represent basic polarities such as right and left, day and night, light and shadow, even good and bad. The choice is ours, the only proviso being that we have to make it fit in with our magical intention and that it must have meaning for us. Generally speaking, it is better to avoid working with more than nine knots. Partly this is because it is difficult to concentrate on more and the spell becomes messy, but also because unless we are very good at spacing the knots, we will run out of cord before we’ve finished. Often classical texts tell us the number of threads rather than the number of knots. In his eighth Eclogue for example, the Roman poet Virgil writes:

These triple threads of threefold colour first I twine about thee, and three times withal around these altars do thine image bear: uneven numbers are the god's delight. Yet later in the same work, the poet also specifies the number of knots to be tied: Knit with three knots the fillets; knit 'em straight; And say, “These knots to love I consecrate”

However, sometimes – and this is a good example – it’s difficult to know where to draw the line between real magical practice and dramatic effect. We have to ask ourselves: was Virgil describing a real spell, or trying to spice it up for his readers by echoing common stereotypes of his day? It’s a difficult question to answer. Certainly the comment, ‘...uneven numbers are the god’s delight,’ occurs often in classical literature and not just in Virgil. It may also reflect the popularity at the time of the ‘magical’ numbers three, seven and nine. However the numbers five and eleven are also odd numbers, yet never all that popular, suggesting there were other factors involved here that we no longer understand. Pliny the Elder also mentions a form of Knot Magic, this time as a cure for fever. It involved putting a caterpillar in a piece of cloth, then winding a linen thread three times around the cloth, tying it with three knots and declaring the purpose of the spell with each knot (Natural History XXX, 101). Since Pliny was not attempting to write poetry here, it seems likely his description is reasonably accurate. He shows us how the basic method for Knot Magic – stating the purpose of the spell with each knot – has remained unchanged for at least two thousand years and probably dates back long before that.

Three knots seem to have been the preferred number not only for many types of healing spells but also for weather magic, especially for knotted strings that harnessed the power of the winds. These were the ‘magic knots’ that sailors bought, although the number nine (being the product of three times three) was also associated with the sea because of the old belief that the ninth wave was the largest (although some believe it was the seventh wave). It is often claimed that the importance of the number three originated with the Christian doctrine of the Trinity. However, its significance is much older than that and it appears in pagan mythology all over Europe with triform deities such as the Greek Hekate or the Celtic Brigid or Brigantia (O hOgain 1991, 60). The Celts certainly regarded the number three (and its many multiples, including nine) as sacred, but we also find groups of three deities in other traditions too, for example Isis, Osiris and Horus or Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. The three Norns of Norse myth ruled the destinies of mortals and this seems to be echoed across Europe in the Roman Fates and matronae, the Greek moirae and the Anglo-Saxon Wyrd Sisters. Using three knots would therefore be particularly appropriate for spells involving destiny, fate and anything connected with nurturing. The number four may not be as popular as three nowadays, but it has a long and honourable tradition nevertheless. We find it not only in the four points of the compass and the four winds but also in the four humours of early medicine, and the four arms of any cross shape (with the exception of the Tau). The cross, of course, predates Christianity by many millennia and is found all over the globe, including the prehistoric traditions of Mexico and Central America (Buckland 1896:96). In ancient Egypt, the vital organs of the mummified corpses were placed in four canopic jars, each assigned to a god, who was in turn protected by a goddess. We could therefore use four knots for anything concerning travel, the compass points and the four winds, healing, medicine, and even death and protection. Just about the only drawback in using an even number of knots is getting the spacing right, since they can be difficult to tie evenly. Odd numbers are much easier to space out and in order to get a feel for this, we

can tie the middle numbered knot (e.g. the second knot in a group of three, or the third knot in a group of five &c.) first in the centre of the cord, and then space the others evenly around it. The number five should, by rights, be at least as important as the numbers three and seven. We see it every day whenever we look at our fingers and toes, and even in the garden where many flowers have five petals, or five pointed leaves, e.g. sycamore or ivy. This number also represents our five senses: taste, touch, sight, smell and hearing, or indeed the human figure, with a head, two arms and two legs (rather like the image of Vitruvian Man). For this reason, it’s often said that five represents Man as the Microcosm, although stars in the heavens are also often shown with five points. Most famously of all for our purposes, the number five is associated with the five pointed star or pentagram. Five knots therefore could be used in any spell connected with humanity in general (rather than with a single person in particular) and also in any spell where we place a heavy reliance on our five senses. The number six is also associated with a star shape, in this case the six pointed Star of David. It was chosen – in yellow – to identify, humiliate, isolate and persecute Jews in 1930s and 1940s Europe, and also appears, in blue on a white background, on Israel’s flag. However, for many pagans the six pointed star symbolises the male and female principles, since it is often drawn as two triangles superimposed over each other. The downward pointing triangle may be interpreted as a chalice or womb and therefore as a feminine vessel for life or magic, penetrating deep into the ground, the sacred home of Mother Earth. The upward pointing triangle represents a penis or a pyramid, making it a masculine pointer towards the stars, the home of the various Sky Father deities. The number six contains some contradictions too. During the Middle Ages, for example, it was sometimes regarded as a ‘perfect’ number since if we add together the first three numbers, i.e. 1 + 2 + 3 (representing the Divine plus the Feminine and the Masculine principles respectively) they give the answer

six. Likewise, six is the product if we multiply the first Feminine number (2) by the first Masculine one (3). Six knots therefore could be used in spells to join masculine and feminine together, making the number useful in love and fertility magic. In the New Testament of the Bible however, the number six was associated linked with evil, since 666 was the sign of the Beast of the Apocalypse. For me however, the most amazing thing about the number is how it appears in nature since both honeycomb cells and snow crystals are six sided. This could make it a good number to use in spells for protecting the earth. It’s generally believed that the first people to give the number seven its special significance were the Babylonians who believed, amongst other things, that there were seven planets, seven pairs of stars, seven celestial zones, seven metals and seven colours (Kypros 1946:82). From the Babylonians, this magical and sacred aspect of the number seven passed on to the Jews and the Persians. The number seven also proved unexpectedly popular in the Bible, where it occurs more often than any other number (Williams 1945:258). The Medieval Church quickly adopted it, with such groupings as the ‘Seven Joys of Mary’ and the ‘Seven Last Words.’ It also appears frequently in the book of Revelations with its seven angels and seven trumpets, seven golden vials, seven plagues etc. Religion aside however, there seems to be something about the number seven that has seeped into human consciousness. It’s almost as though there is something about the number that grants significance to whatever can be grouped within it. Hence the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, the Seven Sages of Greece, or the seven headed Hydra that Hercules had to kill for his second labour. We may no longer understand why seven has been – and remains – so magically significant, and yet there it is. It’s not an obvious number we see every day – unlike five digits on each hand or foot for example. So where does seven’s importance come from? Perhaps it is because it can be seen in the skies above us (in the northern hemisphere, anyway) principally in the

seven stars of the constellation Ursa Major, and the seven stars of the Pleiades. Like the numbers three and five, seven is a prime number (which means it cannot be divided by any other number apart from itself and one.) It is also an uneven one. Perhaps it is precisely the fact that its significance is not obvious that made people believe it must have some hidden magical meaning. This has similarities with trees such as the ash that did not bear edible fruit. These were thought to be extremely powerful since they had no obvious other function. It is certainly difficult to engage with the number seven in our everyday lives. For example, it doesn’t lend itself easily to musical rhythm. A piece of music with seven beats to the bar is very difficult to perform, whereas three and its multiples (six, nine and even twelve) are much easier, as are pieces with two, four and eight beats to a measure. Seven knots in a cord might therefore be useful in a spell to create discord or even to break up difficult situations. This element of discord may explain why, over the years, the number seven has become so strongly associated with hexing, and especially with knot spells intended to cause sexual impotence. Of course we must not allow this knowledge to put us off using seven knots in a cord, because as we can see, the number has many other connotations too. For example, in some Celtic traditions, especially in Scotland, the seventh child of a seventh child was said to have second sight. Some insist it should be the seventh son of a seventh son, but this is virtually impossible nowadays with families being so much smaller. My own mother was very proud of being able to claim to be the seventh child of a seventh child. However, due to the levels of infant mortality within the family, she and an elder sister fought incessantly about which one of them was ‘really’ the seventh child! That aside, we could certainly use seven knots could be used in any spell requiring (or intended to obtain) the gift of second sight, whatever our place in the family. The number seven even turns up in place names, such as Sevenoaks, Seven Dials, or Seven Sisters Road. Whether there really were seven oaks, sisters

or indeed dials, we have no way of knowing. The number may simply have been chosen for its magical symbolism, perhaps in the hope it would protect the place it described. The use of seven in place names also shows that the number is not innately evil or exclusively confined to hexing since people would surely not wish to live in such a place. Even if the name had been given to it negatively by outsiders, it is unlikely it would have remained unchanged for long. The fact that it was retained suggests it was both approved and welcomed. There are also seven colours in the rainbow (if we disregard ultra violet and infra-red). Rainbows are naturally associated with weather, since they occur after rain which could make seven useful in certain types of weather magic. Seven knots could then be used in spells intended to bring an end to sadness, since rain could be associated with tears. Rainbows were also at one time associated with death. Iris, the GrecoRoman goddess of the rainbow, was said to take the souls of women away when they died. Seven knots could therefore be used for rituals connected with death and dying perhaps to ease someone’s passing or help them reach the Summerlands (or whatever afterlife we believe in.) Like the number six, seven was also sometimes regarded as a perfect number, since it was the result of adding the Masculine number three to the Feminine number four. (Like the number two, four was thought to be feminine.) Although we might not think that the number eight is particularly magical, in countries such as Russia, it was sometimes used in hexing. In one example, eight double knots were tied in a length of woollen yarn, and as each double knot was tied, the following had to be recited: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

I go out onto the road I throw into the open field Into the distance (perhaps meaning a crossroads) Between the homesteads Into the fields

6. Into the seas 7. Into the forests 8. Into the quaking bog (Ryan 1999:187) The cord then had to be left somewhere that its intended victim would step on it. Unfortunately we are not told what happened next. Possibly stepping on the cord would activate the spell, magically removing the victim from their home and family, and casting them physically or perhaps even mentally into seas, quaking bogs etc. The number nine is widely regarded as a magical number and long ago in Romania, a female leech (i.e. a healer) would tie nine knots in a cord made of hemp in order to cure someone with a ‘crick in the back’ which could, let’s face it, cover a multitude of conditions. And indeed this seems to be tacitly acknowledged as she ties each knot and relates it to a different part of the body. The knots were tied across the patient’s back at right angles while the following was spoken : [Knot No. 1] I do not bind the knot, but the pain in the heart. [Knot No. 2] I do not bind the knot, but the pain in the intestines. [Knot No 3] Ditto the liver [Knot No 4] Ditto the ribs [Knot No 5] Ditto the shoulders [Knot No 6] Ditto the breast [Knot No 7] Ditto the throat [Knot No 8] Ditto the neck, ears and teeth [Knot No 9] For all the joints and all the other parts of the body. (Seligman 1910:328) Once the knotting was finished, the cord was placed in water, while the person casting the spell would recite another charm (which, unfortunately yet again, nobody recorded!) The cord was then placed crosswise on the patient’s breast and left there for three days. Since it is unlikely that anyone, even a patient suffering with excruciating back pain, could lie immobile for three days, it seems more likely that the cord must have been pinned in place to enable them to move around.

After three days, the cord was removed, and thrown into running water. The idea behind using running water rather than a well or pond is that the water takes the illness away with it (this is quite different from a healing well, which seems to have special, innate powers within that can overcome such problems.) The author then states that, ‘Another charm concludes the treatment’ but alas, never tells us what this was. This is so frustrating, yet very common. Sometimes I really wish I could get hold of them and ask why they were unable to provide this information! However, in fairness, although these omissions may strike us as careless on the part of whoever was recording the spell, magicians and healers are sometimes very secretive about their work. Possibly they refused to allow certain parts to be witnessed or written down. It has always puzzled me that the number ten does not appear as a magical number in its own right since it plays such an important role in computing very large numbers, expressing them ‘to the power of ten’ or a hundred, thousand or whatever. However, centuries ago perhaps there was no need for such figures, and even though we have ten fingers and toes, these can be counted as two sets of five. Perhaps there was never time for ten to make its presence felt in the magical landscape! Also, from a practical point of view, most people struggle to tie just nine knots evenly, and almost any spell can be performed in nine or less. Few people nowadays – apart from midwives perhaps - have ready access to an umbilical cord, yet at one time this was used to predict the number of children the mother would bear by counting the number of knots or bumps that occur naturally in the cord (Newman and Newman 1939:187). From my own experience of giving birth, the number of future babies I might have was probably the furthest thing from my mind, although some new mothers might like to know! In Hungary, however, there was a time when careful mothers and midwives not only preserved the umbilical cord but also tied a hundred knots in it. This must have been no mean feat considering that the average cord is just fifty centimetres (about twenty inches) long, which would mean tying two knots

per centimetre! Given the thickness of the average cord, I think this would be impossible, so perhaps the aim was just to tie as many knots as possible, and the term ‘hundred’ just signified this, rather than an exact number. Once the child reached the age of thirteen, he or she would be given the cord and told to undo it (bearing in mind it would probably have dried out to the consistency of hard shoe leather by this time.) If the child succeeded this foretold good luck in later life! (Benedekfalva and Knappe 1941:105) And now, having looked at the number of knots we might include in our spell, it’s time we went back to the spell itself.

Chapter Eleven Placing the knots and choosing our words Placing the knots is not all that difficult unless we happen to be perfectionists. Although they don’t have to be perfectly spaced, it still helps to have a plan to avoid running out of cord too quickly, or conversely, jamming them all together at one end of the string! At its simplest, if our spell requires just one knot, then we’ll probably place this close to the middle. The same applies to odd numbers – the middle knot should be placed somewhere near the middle of the cord. I rarely tie more than three in a single length of cord that is about six to eight inches (15 – 20 cm) long (depending on its thickness). However there is no unwritten law demanding that a only certain number of knots must go on a certain length of string. Affirmation spells usually require the most knots. Affirmations are a series of statements intended to raise our own consciousness or awareness, or to precipitate a certain course of action on our part. I find it helps to think of it as casting a spell on myself! There is nothing complicated about an affirmation – just think of it as a list of things to do. A New Year’s Resolution in string. ‘First I shall..... then I shall... etc.’ Usually affirmation spells tend to use the formula, ‘By the power of this knot I shall...etc.’ This opens a whole range of possibilities, covering just about anything. Once again however, preparation is the key since we do not want to overload our affirmation with too much information. And yet people do exactly that. Indeed I’ve some say they need to tie about twenty knots in order to cover everything they need! This is a complete waste of our energy and on reflection we will usually find that we have duplicated our intentions to some extent. What we must do is distil our desires down into just a few of the most important things. Obviously this takes some time and effort, but I believe it’s

worth it. Affirmations work best when they are concise. Even the most ambitious ones can be easily contained within a maximum of nine knots and often within as few as seven or even three. I’ve found the easiest way to tie a series knots for a spell is to work them on a flat surface. This supports my hands and keeps them steady. However, some people prefer working with the cord in their lap, and there is no problem with this. Do whatever is easiest for you. I do find however, that a flat surface is best if we intend adding a bead or two since they have such a nasty habit of rolling out of reach just when we need them. A board with a lip, such as a tray, can be very useful then. The last thing we want is to be scrabbling around looking for beads that have fallen onto the floor! Once we are really comfortable with the process, the preparation and rehearsal time becomes quicker. Eventually we will dispense with much of it. However, even now when tackling something unfamiliar I can take days thinking about and planning the spell beforehand. Some people claim that rehearsals somehow weaken the spell’s power when we eventually come to cast it. This is not true. What we are doing is just practising rather than performing the spell in full. That means our will should not be focused during rehearsal since we are just trying out the practical side of things. If we want to dye, rinse or even burn the thread then we do just that until we are comfortable with the process. The spell is there to serve us and our intention, not the other way around. Be efficient. Don’t waffle. Just do what has to be done and move on.

Choosing our words (optional) Although our intention is an essential part of the spell, spoken – or written – words are not essential in magic and there are times when it’s useful to know how to cast a complete spell in silence, especially if we don’t have much privacy. Learning to work a spell ‘in our heads’ is a skill we may not always use, but it’s good to know how to do it in case we ever need it. Privacy, or the lack of it, can severely affect how we cast our spells. If we

are surrounded by nosey, unsympathetic people then we’ll probably have to leave out things like boiling pieces of bark etc. But we can still tie our knots quietly (or incorporate them into knitting, macramé, crochet or embroidery) while focussing our intention and will. And this will still be an effective and powerful spell. Even if we have total privacy, and want to speak our spell aloud, we should still have chosen our words in readiness. It’s always better to know exactly what we want to say and not leave it to chance by the time we get to performing our spell. However we don’t have to memorise anything. Magic is not performance art, and we are not actors. If we cast a spell while worrying all the time about our words or actions, then the chances are that the spell intention (which is, after all, the really important part) will go out of the window. There is nothing wrong with writing the words down. Use your Magical Journal/Book of Shadows, or even a couple of prompt cards. (If we use the latter however then we should still keep a written record elsewhere. I know I keep repeating myself on this, but really, it is so important.) Many a good spell has been lost and many a poor one has been mistakenly repeated simply because nobody bothered to write them down and record the results!

To cleanse or not to cleanse? (optional but advisable) Although I have, in my wild and reckless youth, cast spells on tables covered in breadcrumbs, cornflakes and occasionally cats, I wouldn’t recommend it. Cleansing a small working space for ourselves does not need to be a major operation; we do not need cleansing baths or clouds of incense. If we feel we have the energy to incorporate such things then fine, do it. Otherwise, just give everything a decent wipe down, imagining all the magical detritus being removed along with the grime! Part of the success of spell casting when we’re solitaries lies in conserving our energies. If we wear ourselves out with cleansing, then we have less to expend on the spell itself. On the other hand, working against energies that could have been removed with a little cleansing beforehand will also drain us. As always, just aim for balance. Don’t overdo things. And remember to be organised.

Being organised has never come easily to me, so I know what I’m talking about here. I worked for many years in a kind of glorious muddle. I knew where things were (most of the time), but nobody else had a clue. As I’ve grown older however, I’ve realised there are advantages to being organised. It saves time and energy, for a start. As I’ve already mentioned, I don’t normally cast a circle for this kind of spell. The only exception I would make is if we have to work in a particularly hostile environment such as a haunted house, or with some spells for psychic self defence. Even then, a simple salt circle will usually do the trick, and there have even been times when I’ve worked inside a rope circle. This is a length of rope, soaked in salt water that I pull over me (rather like a baggy jumper) and then spread out on the floor around me so that I don’t have to actually step inside it. It’s a very useful method of carrying a small circle with us at all times. But it’s best used only when absolutely necessary.

Blessing the things we use in a spell (optional) I always think blessings should be quite simple. For example: ‘I bless this cord.’ It’s not very extravagant and while it may be too plain for some, it says what we mean, and that’s what matters. Personally I tend to use ‘Be blessed, this cord,’ simply because it sounds firmer, more authoritative. At the start of a spell I always feel I can do with any spare confidence that might be swanning around in the atmosphere! However, if we feel we would like to make a little more effort here, perhaps to ensure that our cords, beads etc., are on our side, we could try something like this: Be blessed this cord, with my intent And stay true to my will. At this stage we don’t need to start setting out exactly what our intention is; there is plenty of time for that later. And of course we can adapt the same formula given above for blessing beads, cords, bark and anything else we will

be using that we feel could benefit from a little extra boost of magical energy.

Do we need to believe in magic? (essential) In a word, Yes. I’m not talking here about blind faith which is every bit as dangerous as blind scepticism. I’m talking about common sense. So if you’re the sort of person who says, ‘Of course I don’t really believe in all this magic stuff...’ and then goes ahead anyway and casts their spell, please don’t wonder why it didn’t work. The fact is that magic often doesn’t work for sceptics. Sometimes I don’t understand why they bother. They are so busy feeling embarrassed or cynical about the whole thing that it’s like throwing a wet tea towel over a chip pan fire. Doubt and derision smother all the skills and energy needed for the spell. Then it fails and becomes a self fulfilling prophecy. However there are times, and we all experience them, when we notice we feel a little uneasy, usually because our magical radar is trying to alert us that something is wrong. Perhaps our intention is unclear, or worse may be unintentionally harmful, especially if we’re doing the spell on behalf of someone else, who might be trying to deceive us in some way in order to persuade us to perform their spell for them. So, if we feel uncomfortable casting a spell, the remedy is simple: don’t do it. Instead we should remove ourselves from it, and go and read, walk, dance, enjoy ourselves or whatever. Usually once we distance ourselves from the spell, we can better see what’s causing the problem.

The Colour of the Cord (optional) We may intend only using a single, natural colour cord. However, if we are going to use one or more colours then this may be the time to remark upon that fact as part of the spell. Yet announcing the reasons for our choice tells us nothing new, while the gods or powers we intend working with are almost certainly aware of our reasons already, without us needing to say anything. So why mention it? The reason is that each statement forms part of our magical narrative, which in turn helps maintain our magical focus. We don’t have to speak this aloud,

but we do need to be aware of it. Some people find awareness easier than others, but for those that don’t, explanatory statements are very useful. We might say something like: I choose this colour thread (blue/green/whatever) because it symbolises [and here state just what it is meant to symbolise. As always, be brief and clear, there’s no need to embellish.] For example, suppose we are casting a spell to ensure a safe holiday for ourselves or indeed, for somebody else. Then we could say something like: I choose this blue thread to represent the sea I will cross in my holiday journey. Or we might say: I choose this colour red to symbolise the healing power in every knot I tie Or I choose this colour red to symbolise the infection and fever running through [Name’s] body. Notice though that all we are doing is explaining why we chose that colour. Nothing more. If we are using two colour threads then we’ll need to repeat this explanation of our choice for the second colour as well. We might even wish to add something like, ‘Taken together they represent...’ Now yes, this does sound simple and pretty basic. But you would be amazed the number of people who find this sort of thing a stumbling block. They know the answer is probably simple, but have nobody to ask, and fear asking someone more experienced in case they’re laughed at. So I make no apology for including this really basic information. Someone, somewhere, will always be glad of it.

Normally I would not recommend using more than two or three different coloured threads. There is a good reason for this. Remember those multicoloured strips of Plasticine that used to be so popular for children years ago (and probably still are, for all I know)? They were wonderful when they were new and all the colours were fresh and clean. But gradually bits stuck to each other and we ended up with a great blob of disappointing, muddy brown colour Plasticine. Well, that’s what happens – magically speaking - when we mix too many coloured threads together. If we cannot do a spell without needing more than two or three colours, then there’s probably something wrong with it and it needs a bit of a rethink. So remember: The main advantage of stating what the colour thread represents is that it makes us focus on what the knot is supposed to do.

The Purpose of the Knots (essential) In Knot Magic the knots accomplish one of two tasks: they either interrupt a flow of energy (such as bringing down a fever) or they reinforce the preexisting flow. We need to decide which it is to be before we start our spell. For example, we might need to tap into a flow of energy in the form of knowledge. We don’t want to interrupt or block that stream of knowledge, what we want is to reinforce it and above all, to access it for ourselves. Knowing this helps us decide what the knot represents. So we could – later in the spell – try something like: Just as I tie and tighten this knot, So may I improve my understanding of... Here we can see that the knot is being used to tighten our ‘grip’ on something without trying to block the flow of energy or strangle it. If we want something a little more elaborate then try: Just as I tie this knot so may My love of learning grow, And tightening it –so! may I

This subject learn and know. Not great poetry certainly, but it is a clear spell and has rhythm. The spell only rhymes in accordance with the action of tying the knot. Here the word ‘so!’ is uttered just as we physically tighten the knot. Obviously, there is no reason why tying the knot and tightening it should always be two separate actions. You could simply tie a knot while saying: ‘With this knot I will find out more about... and gain the knowledge I am seeking.’ For comparison, using a performative formula instead the same spell could read: With this knot, may my love of learning grow. The thread tightens thus! [Here tighten the knot] and so I clasp this knowledge to my heart, where it may take firm root and increase. I chose the example of doing a spell to increase knowledge because, on the face of it, this seems such a positive intention. Ever since childhood we are taught to value education and to set great store by getting good results in class. But of course, knowledge – like magic – comes in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes the pursuit of knowledge can lead to terrible crimes being committed. History is full of such examples. So we must never make the mistake of assuming that any magic is always either negative or positive in intention. Here is another example, again using the theme of gaining knowledge: With this knot I bind myself to searching For the knowledge that I need so I can grow in wisdom. Tying it tight I bind myself to learn , To study, understand and to know. Or we could say something like:

By the power of this knot I bind unto myself the knowledge I have learned about (name the subject here)... May I always use this knowledge with fairness, wisdom and compassion. These are basically binding spells, since we desire to bind ourselves to knowledge and learning. People often caution against all binding spells, but really, it all depends on the type of knowledge being sought. And the same applies to blessings. Think of the implications for example, in unintentionally blessing a serial killer with the intention that he, ‘...has a wonderful day and achieves all he desires.’ An extreme example, certainly, but it shows the dangers even in something as apparently innocuous as a blessing. I hope by now I’ve explained how important it is to avoid lazy generalisations and instead look into the heart of each and every spell we cast. Even after a lifetime of magic and spell work, I still need to allow enough time to explore each and every aspect of a proposed spell. Only once I am convinced that I fully understand the matter in hand do I begin actually working on it. I may not always get things right (and I would be extremely suspicious of anyone who claims otherwise) but at least I know I’ve tried my best. However, I should point out (as I always do) that our spells need to be underpinned with some practical support too. I remember when I was young, reading Little Tuk by Hans Christian Andersen. This told of a boy who revised by putting his geography book under his pillow before going to sleep on the night before an important test in school. Unfortunately there are still people out there who are still seduced by such ideas, not realising that true magic is hard work in its own right. Magic is a bit like fertiliser. It improves the soil, certainly, but we still need to plough the field, plant the seeds and look after them. If we are lazy about our magical work, hoping to get by with a lot of noise and the minimum of effort, we may be in for some very unwelcome surprises. However, if we work with magic, intelligently, humbly and with compassion

then we will be well on our way to becoming wise, efficient and reliable casters of spells.

Chapter Twelve Practising our Spell - the Trial Run Sometimes I’ve heard people say they simply cannot afford the time and energy for preparation and practice. My response is always, ‘But do you want your spell to work? Because if it goes wrong, then it’s our responsibility to clean it all up, and that will take a good deal longer than any preparation.’ In my experience the usual reason spells ‘go wrong’ is because they weren’t properly thought out in the first place! Believe me, it’s quicker to make the time for preparatory work rather than have to pick up the pieces afterwards. Yet people still dread such preparation, fearing it has to be lengthy and exhausting. It doesn’t. Small things help, such as keeping our preferred threads etc., in a tin or box, and separate from the balls of string we use to tie up our bin bags or runner beans. Just as we should aim to ‘Know what we are about,’ so it also makes sense to ‘Know where things are.’ If we use beads then we must ensure they will work with our threads. It’s no use finding the perfect bead for our spell only to discover at the last minute that our chosen cord is too thick to thread through it! Sometimes however, we just have to use whatever is to hand, and then we just cleanse it and don’t worry, since worrying solves nothing but has a nasty habit of rubbing off on our magic. Besides, our spells are unlikely to infuse the refuse sacks with fairy dust and it’s a fair bet our runner beans will not suddenly grow up into the sky like Jack and the Beanstalk just because we use the ‘wrong’ twine! With practice and as we become more skilled, we will begin to recognise our individual talents. Some of us are best are spoken charms, others with meditative ones, some prefer using their breath to ‘fix’ each knot. Still others have remarkable skills at tying ornate and powerful knots. Like all talents however, practice is the key. We cannot expect to simply tie a knot, pronounce a ‘magic spell’ and walk away again. Yes, we might get away with it once or twice (there seems to be a certain amount of beginner’s luck in

magic as in most things) but if we want our magic to be reliable then practice is the key. In the long term, unreliable magic is worse than useless. The sort of spells we like to cast, and how we cast them largely depends on our pre-existing strengths. I always had to work hard at knots, especially if I wanted to try something new. Others may find they need practice when they change to a different type of cord, or with organising and putting the spell together so that it runs smoothly. For example, we might need to practise in order to place our knots evenly along a cord so we don’t run out of space. For three or four knots we can usually make a visual judgement. For more however, try dabbing a coloured felt pen along the cord at the required intervals. That way we can tell if our knots are taking up too much (or too little space) well in advance of the final knot. After two or three practice runs we can throw the felt pen away and just get on with the knotting! This might sound a childish solution, but the simplest ideas are often the best: easy to remember and perform. We don’t want to be hampered by nagging worries while casting a spell, and a little self confidence always improves our magic. Spells are no time for dithering or self doubt and with practice I assure you your confidence will grow and these early failures can be kept to a minimum. In Chapter Ten we looked at the significance of numbers and saw how ambiguous they can be. There is no ‘correct’ number for any particular intention. Once we’ve really thought about our magical intention, and distilled it down to its simplest form, the number of knots (and threads for that matter) usually becomes clear. We may be influenced by the number of parts to our spell, the number of people involved, dates, ages etc., and it’s best to go with what feels right (preferably using nine knots or less), remembering to make a written note of what we do and why we need to do it. For example, if there are three component parts to our spell, then three knots would be the most obvious solution. We could set it out like this:

With this knot may [Name] be healed. With this knot may [Name’s] doctors discover the cause of his/her illness With this knot may [Name] make a complete recovery. This is simple, direct and to the point, which is really all we need. If the part about doctors discovering the cause of the illness is not appropriate then leave it out – don’t include it just for the sake of having three knots. Alternatively, some people prefer to repeat one line three times. They feel this helps them concentrate and re-enforces the spell intention. If we choose this option then I would not recommend more than three knots. There is nothing to be gained in using more, no matter how strongly we feel about healing someone. Our spell’s power lies not in the number of knots, but in the will we bring to bear on each one, and the clarity of our intention. Magic does not appreciate being stretched too thinly! Just as we consider the number of knots to be tied, so, if we intend using beads, this is the time to stop and think about how many we will need. Perhaps we might use one bead with a knot tied either side to keep it in place, and use performative intention ‘With this bead I....’ as the bead is carefully threaded onto the cord. As with the number of knots, I would advise restricting the number of beads used; after all, we’re not making a necklace! Of course although beads resemble knots and can be tied into the string (using a simple overhand knot either side to hold them in position if we don’t want them sliding around all over the place), they also have their own magical properties. For example, beads can be removed from a cord but obviously cannot be undone. Also their colour and shape may be significant and they can be painted and/or engraved with initials and symbols. All these things help personalise the spell. However, they are not essential, and we are just as capable of producing a first rate spell using a length of white parcel string and a single knot provide our intention and will are properly focused. It’s important never to allow ‘extras’ to become the be-all-and-end-all in our magic. Yes, there are times when we may want to add a things – music,

chants, beads etc., - but we have to see them for what they are – extras. They are not essential and an expensive bead or cord can never compensate for a badly thought out spell or one that is performed when our mind is not fully on the matter in hand.

Tying the Knots – the problem of disassociation As part of our preparatory work we should already have decided whether we are going to use a magical formula (such as performative intention or the ‘Just as... so may...’ formula). And as I’ve mentioned there is no harm in writing down what we want to say as a prompt, either. But how do we choose the best words to suit our knots? For a spell to be reliable and to fulfil its purpose accurately, any words and actions we use must be linked to the spell intention. The problem with Knot Magic is that in everyday life we do not really use the word ‘tie’ all that often. It just doesn’t sound right. It conjures up images of tethering horses, tying people’s hands behind their back, tying in bows in our hair or shoelaces and maybe tying the knot i.e., getting married. But that’s about it, and it’s not enough for most magical purposes. I believe it’s this distance between what we say and what we think that causes most difficulty in our magic. For example, if we stand there saying ‘Just as I tie this knot so may I write my autobiography,’ it sounds forced and unreal. The knot and the writing have no obvious connection. It’s a form of disassociation. This disassociation is a problem I’ve encountered time and again when I’ve run workshops and replied to queries about Knot Magic. So many people work as solitaries and have nobody to ask when something doesn’t quite seem to work for them. Even those in groups may feel their question is so obvious, just to ask will make them appear foolish. But it isn’t obvious, of course. It’s a very real problem, the sort that scuppers us before we start and makes us reach instead for reassuring spell books that simply tell us what to do so that we don’t have to really think for ourselves. And that’s such a pity.

Luckily, there is a very easy solution to hand in the English language, which is rich and full of surprises. All we have to do is remember that we never just ‘tie’ a knot. We can tighten a knot, create a knot, generate, craft, build, secure, make fast, gird, fasten, set up, close, contract, condense, bring it into being, and give life to it, just to give a few examples. These different descriptions hold the key. All we have to do is to find the best narrative for our intention. In the example I gave above, ‘Just as I tie this knot so may I write my autobiography,’ we saw no obvious link between tying a knot and writing. So the narrative is broken and this in turn damages the intention within the spell. It just doesn’t sound right. However, if we think of ‘creating’ a knot, then at once there is an obvious link between that and creating a piece of writing. Sounds simple? Yes, it is. And it also reflects perfectly the dictum, ‘As above, so below.’ So now – at the risk of being pedantic – let’s look at some other options that join language and knots together: ‘Just as I tighten this knot, so may I tighten my hold on my job, so that I stay employed with XYZ company.’ ‘Just as I create this knot, so may I create this painting/book/poem etc.’ ‘Just as I generate this knot, so may I and my partner Name generate a baby together.’ (It goes without saying that it’s really important to add the word ‘together’ here!) ‘Just as I give birth to this knot, so may I have a safe pregnancy and give birth to a healthy baby.’ Tying off the cord at birth marks the end of the physical connection between mother and baby. It is the beginning of the infant’s new life as an individual. In the same way, we can use the ‘tying off’ imagery in our spell if we want to mark the magical end of something, such as a job, relationship or even moving house. So we could use something like:

‘Just as I tie off this knot in this cord, so may I mark the end of this job and the start of my new career.’ In the same way as we may create a knot, so we can also think of it as building something new. This opens a whole realm of possibilities for activities that may not be exactly creative but which nevertheless require that we work towards a given intention. For example: ‘Just as I build this knot, so may I build a network of contacts to help me in this business venture.’ Or we could try: ‘Just as I make this knot secure, so may my family be secure (you might want to add in the particular type of security you are thinking about here – such as ‘Secure in their home;’ ‘Secure financially;’ ‘Secure in the love they all have for each other.’) The term ‘to make fast’ can also mean to make something secure. This could be used in a protective spell against theft, for example: ‘Just as I tie this knot and make it fast, so may my motorbike stay fast that nobody may steal it.’ We do have to be a bit careful with this one though, otherwise we run the risk of making something so fast and secure that we cannot get it to move again! Normally I suspect that the Universe has a way of making sense from our spells, but it’s always advisable not put it to the test too often. ‘Setting up’ is another useful term for a knot. ‘Just as I set up this knot, so may my new venture (and here you need to say what it is – education, business venture etc.) be set up successfully.’ An alternative wording (especially if it is a solo enterprise) could be, ‘...so may I set up my new venture.’ However, if we are embarking on a partnership, or entrusting an important part of the business set-up to someone else (perhaps a website designer) then it is probably best to name them, for example:

‘... so may [Name] and I set up our new venture.’ The difference is subtle perhaps, but nevertheless important. In English, ‘to close’ can mean several different things, for example, to shut something, to block or exclude it, or to shut it off in some way. It’s useful in spells and can be used in statements such as: ‘Just as I tie and close this knot so may [Name’s] anger/spite, be closed off from me and from those I love.’ Or ‘Just as I tie and close this knot, so may [Name] be closed off and shut out of my life.’ This is especially useful when we’re trying to make a new start in life, or trying to escape a painful or difficult situation. Something else we do when we tighten a knot is make it smaller. So Knot Magic can be useful when we want to shrink something. Before we start mentally visualising fairy tales where someone is transformed into a frog, there are more useful applications such as: ‘Just as I shrink this knot, may [Name’s] fever shrink and leave him.’ ‘Just as I shrink this knot, so may my despair shrink and leave me.’ Sometimes we tie our knots in a single cord, but at other times, and especially if we want to create a connection with our spell, then it makes sense to reflect this physically by using two cords, and then saying (or thinking) something like, ‘Just as I tie this knot and connect these two cords, so may I...’ Exercise The possibilities for this type of linking together of words and intentions are endless, and so for this exercise I would like you to take a little time to try and think of other examples. Jot them down in your Magical Journal or Book of Shadows, paying particular attention to words and situations you feel are most likely to crop up in your magical work. Gradually add to them if and

when necessary.

Using the Breath An alternative approach is to simply tie the knot, breathe on it while visualising what we want the spell to do, and finally say (or think), ‘By the power in this knot, may....’ The magical thinking behind this is that the spell will work because we have tied the knot and empowered it with our intention, which is carried on our breath. Because our breath comes from within us, it contains our personal magnetism or essence which is impregnated into the knot when we blow on it. Our final words simply reinforce what we have already done. The power is already in the knot by the time we speak.

Tying the Knots – when does the spell happen? The spell is sent out to do its work, I believe, when we tighten each knot. However, there probably will have been some magical changes going on from the moment we first started to think about our spell. Hence the importance of preparation; far from weakening our magic, it actually reinforces it. It’s important therefore, before casting our first knot spells, or even before using a new cord for the first time, to get a feel for tightening each knot. And knots differ too, with some tightening quickly, while others need a more gentle approach to get them to close evenly. Knot Magic – even when we only use a few knots – has a rhythm of its own. We just have to learn to recognise it. For example, people sometimes ask when exactly should the knot be tied and tightened: just before, just after or during the spoken part? (This is assuming we aren’t going breathe on the knot). There is no answer that will suit everyone and I think this is a rhythm that each of us chooses instinctively although there have been occasions when I suspect the rhythm has chosen me! If we cannot feel the rhythm for ourselves, then the next best thing is to be guided by the natural stresses in the words. For example, if we say something like, ‘Just as I tighten this knot, so may [Name] be healed’ then we will probably want to tighten it either just after the word ‘knot’ or just

after ‘healed.’ In practice, most of us tend to begin tying the knot as we begin to speak, and aim to tighten it as we finish speaking even if this means slowing or speeding up what we say a little in order to make everything fit together neatly. Again it’s worth checking and practising first, although we shouldn’t focus our will until ready to cast the spell. Exercise Building on the previous exercise, return to your Magical Journal or Book of Shadows and write out one or two of the statements again. Then take a piece of string and tie a single knot, working out exactly where the tightening should occur and marking it on the page. In the examples below, the first underlining marks the tying of the knot, while the second marks the point of tightening:

Just as I tighten this knot, so may [N] be healed Or

By the power of this knot I bind unto myself the knowledge I have learned about (name the subject here)... May I always use this knowledge with fairness, wisdom and compassion. Of course you may feel as you practice that my markings are way off, e.g. you might prefer to tighten on the word ‘bind’ in the example above. We should never do something just because we’re told to, but only if it feels right to us. And when you find a rhythm that suits you, remember to write it down. It saves time in the long run!

Spells with beads If it is difficult to find appropriate words for tying knots so that we can associate and visualise them as part of our spell, then in my own experience choosing appropriate words for threading or sliding beads onto the cord is

even more worse. A quick trip to the thesaurus only provides words such as glide, move, shove, launch, propel, and thrust. Yet with a little imagination these are still useful and with time you may well think of extra words that will suit. Perhaps the most helpful is the word ‘move’ which would suit any number of spell intentions, for example something like: ‘Just as I move this bead smoothly along this cord, so may my planned house move go ahead without any difficulties or obstructions.’ I can’t think of many uses for ‘glide’ unless it was connected with skating perhaps, and ‘launch’ and ‘thrust’ don’t really seem to have much in common with threading beads (at least not in the sort of spells I usually cast). However, perhaps if we think of pushing the cord through the bead – rather like being in a tunnel, we could link the action with ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ situations. Then we could say something like: ‘Just as I thread this cord through this bead and out the other side, so may I see some hope, a light at the end of the tunnel with my health/job/relationship etc.’ Sometimes we have to get very creative indeed with our magic!

Using chants in a spell I have left this until the end of the chapter because – in my own experience anyway – not many people use chants in Knot Magic even if they otherwise enjoy chanting as part of a celebration or ritual. The main difficulty with chanting and tying knots is one of timing and concentration and trying to fit them together without paying too much attention to one and not the other. Also we are not much used to chanting nowadays, although I did once know someone who could happily chant Anglican plainsong, while at the same time reciting instructions for filling in her tax returns! If we are determined to chant in our spell, I would advise starting with a short, three knot spell, perhaps to protect someone when travelling, and in order to ensure they return safely. This could be as simple as ‘Merry meet, merry part and merry meet again.’ Setting this to a chant, we could try

singing just the final line to ‘May the Circle be Open but Unbroken.’ (There are usually several versions of it on YouTube if you’re not familiar with it). Resist the temptation to use the entire chant however, concentrating only on the final line where the heaviest stresses fall on meet, part and again. Those are the places where each knot needs to be tightened. The obvious advantage with this example is that since the words are so well known, we won’t have to struggle to memorise them or need to write them down. We just have to be careful when we chant not to stop concentrating on our intention. We need to practice chant with the knot tying but without the intention until we are confident, then repeat it while focussing on our intention and will. If we can manage it of course, then it is yet another useful skill to have. But now, having tied our knots, it’s time to bring the spell to an end...

Chapter Thirteen How to Finish the Spell It’s very important to plan how to mark the end of our spell rather than simply allowing things to drift. Rather like forgetting to hang up at the end of a telephone conversation, unless we draw our spell properly to a close, we risk rambling on unknowingly, perhaps allowing the inclusion of things that were never intended. We can end the spell spectacularly, or quietly. The choice is ours. But end it, we must. Usually I prefer to close my spell quietly, but this is because all my magic is kept as simple as possible. So for me, when the spell is ended I might just say ‘Fiat.’ (This is Latin for ‘Let it be done’ and should be pronounced as figh-at, not fee-at). For me the word acts as a marker between the magical and the everyday worlds. Other similar phrases include ‘So mote it be,’ ‘So be it,’ or ‘Blessed be’. I then breathe out using a long breath through slightly pursed lips in order to propel the magic on its way. But that’s just me. Others might prefer to end the spell with something decisive, such as a short, sharp hand clap, a snap of the fingers or even by stamping their feet. All these endings have the same purpose, i.e., to disperse the magical energies and set them free to do their work.

Disposing of the Knotted Cord (optional) Normally I would say that once a spell is over then that’s it. Let it go, don’t brood on it or worry about it otherwise the energies we expend on such things can act like a magnet, pulling the spell back towards us instead of letting it speed towards its destination. So in many (but not all) spells, we will need to dispose of the knotted cord. We can burn it, throw it into running water or bury it, always remembering that if we choose either of the last two options then the cord should be made of a natural fibre so that it will decompose.

Some cords, such as nylon, will neither decompose nor burn properly. For much the same reason I would rather not use plastic beads. Wood, horn or shell are better unless we intend keeping the knotted spell with us indefinitely. Whatever we decide to use, all burning should be done out of doors, preferably on a calm day and with a bucket of water close by as a basic safety precaution. If we’ve decided to burn our cord, we still have to dispose of the ashes afterwards. I usually sprinkle mine with salt and then bury them. If we don’t have a garden in which to do this, then one alternative is to use the bottom of a flower pot. Whatever method we choose, it’s best to do it as soon as possible after finishing our spell. Human nature being what it is however, some people become very attached to the knotted cord from their spell. And of course there is nothing wrong with keeping it in some circumstances. For example, a spell to get rid of something really should be ended by our destroying the cord. However a spell to keep something with us, or to keep a relationship or job might justify our keeping the cord for a while. Cords from healing and protective spells work may also be preserved, at least for as long as the healing and protection is required. If the knot work in our spell is in some way wearable, such as a simple macramé bracelet or pendant with a single, figure-of-eight knot, etc. then so much the better. It can also make quite an acceptable gift if we perform the spell for a third party. If this is not possible however, then just keep the piece somewhere safe on their behalf for as long as necessary. As we can see from this, our decision whether or not to dispose of the cord is very much a case of ‘As above, so below.’ As a simple guideline therefore, if the spell should be kept close, then keep the cord close. Otherwise, let it go, set it free.

Disposal of the bark and the barking solution (optional) If we use a bark solution as part of our spell, then we have to get rid of it somehow. Whether we make a small ritual of this is up to us, but now our spell is over and whatever we do should use the minimum of energy. Our

ritual need not be long or elaborate, we can just thank the bark briefly for the part it has played in the spell, then empty it onto the ground and return it to the earth. The most important thing is that our thanks should be genuine and from the heart. Magic has a way of weeding out insincerity. So we could say something like: ‘Thank you for being part of this spell to (and here give the intention as briefly as you can.) I now set you free and return you to the earth.’ Another possibility is to make a small libation or offering of the barking solution. While pouring the liquid onto the earth, just say something like: ‘Mother Earth, accept this gift of oak/birch and water, given with my love.’ For disposing of the pieces of bark I would recommend burying them in the garden or at the bottom of a flower pot if the pieces are reasonably small, breaking them up first if they’re not. Alternatively there is no reason we can’t recycle them with the garden waste. If we want to make a ritual out of this, however then we can formally return them to Mother Earth, thanking Her for the loan of them. ‘Mother Earth, I return these pieces of bark to you for your safekeeping with thanks and blessings. All that comes from you, eventually returns to your arms. Thank you. Blessed be.’ Although I’ve given detailed instructions, the important thing is that when we end a spell, it should feel over. Finished and done with. We should never feel like a party host with a pile of washing up and little to show for it. We should not feel exhausted or taken for granted. A good spell is like a good lesson. We should feel glad to have known it. And although my instructions in these chapters are undoubtedly longwinded, remember they are only suggestions and should be regarded as a guideline, nothing more. Reading through takes only a very little time, but it is worth doing. We may decide we never want to use a bark solution, or use

it constantly. Alternatively we may decide it will be an essential part of our work for certain types of spell only. The important thing is to understand why we do things. All my suggestions are simple because, at its heart, magic is simple. Down the millennia, people have dressed it up with robes and tools, chanting in foreign languages and even – I kid you not - in complete gibberish that isn’t any language at all! Magic may require work and preparation, yet it is gloriously straightforward too; it consists basically of will and intention: what we want and how we can magically conspire to make it happen. And we can do it – sometimes all we need is a little push and a helping hand. Years ago, I remember being in the library with my children. I always went with them because sometimes it could be difficult for them to find exactly what they were looking for, and children need to be taught how to get the most from their library. Anyway, one day, a boy from their class turned up wanting to join the library and borrow a book for his homework. The librarian was busy, didn’t have time to help much beyond a bit of basic advice, but sent him off in the general direction for what he wanted. He just stood in front of the books, totally baffled and getting angrier at his own confusion by the minute. In the end, and before I could go over to him, he picked a book, glanced at it, then threw it down on the floor and stormed off. Nobody could ever persuade him to go there again. And this is what often happens with magic. Unless someone is there to talk us through every single step, something will trip us up. And it’s almost always something tiny, something simple. But unless someone helps us, we often can’t find a way around it. Yet there is no shame in not knowing something, and anyone who makes us feel otherwise is not worthy to call themselves a teacher. When we are in a position to help others we should always remember what it felt like when we didn’t know something. Once we have the basic knowledge it is up to us to make the magic dance!

Chapter Fourteen Knot Magic and weather Shakespeare seems to have known a thing or two about Knot Magic when he wrote Macbeth. In Act iv Scene I he has Macbeth state, ‘Though you untie the winds...’ which links in very well with what we know of witches and magicians tying up winds in knots and then unleashing them. Many years ago, for example, fishermen from Portessie on the north east coast of Scotland, got hold of a piece of twine with three knots tied in it. Although they never admitted to buying the knots, they probably did, wanting to get home quickly with their catch. The wind-seller gave them precise instructions: the first knot had to be untied when the sail was raised, and the second after a time, just to call up a little more wind. Nothing seems to have been said about the fateful third knot and when they found themselves becalmed they decided to undo it. Suddenly all hell broke loose, a storm erupted and ‘we hardly escaped with our life’ (Gregor 1886:9). This warning about the ‘third knot’ is a common and widespread theme in folklore, although whether it was real or simply intended to dissuade people from buying winds is hard to tell. By the early 1900s, although people still bought winds, especially in Caithness and Sutherlandshire, there seems to have been a certain embarrassment attached to it as though such practices no longer had any place in the modern world. Traditionally winds could be tied up in either a handkerchief or thread (and occasionally in a towel!) and there were always three of them. The first was gentle, the second stronger and the third a gale. Since the purchaser was always warned against undoing the third knot, it might seem a little strange to bother with it at all. However three is traditionally a magic number, and perhaps it was felt that unless three knots were tied, the spell would not work for the first two. Not all weather magic was carried out by tying knots. The author Sir Walter

Scott once described a visit to Stromness in 1814, when he visited an old woman who sold winds by boiling her kettle to ‘procure a favourable gale’ (Lockhard 1901 Vol IV). Although at first sceptical, Scott eventually conceded that the old woman had indeed obtained fair winds for him and his companions on their journey. However, whereas Scott’s seller of winds was entirely in charge of the strength and presumably direction of the winds she conjured, the same could not be said of everyone who bought knotted cords or kerchiefs. Then the burden was entirely on the purchaser (usually the boat’s captain or crew), and the danger lay in either untying the third knot too quickly, or in having a boat that was just too lightweight to withstand the ensuing gale. And yet people persisted in buying such cords. The reason is not hard to guess. Back in the days of sail, getting becalmed far out at sea was no laughing matter. People could die of hunger and thirst, and even if they had enough supplies, back before refrigeration was invented an entire catch of fish could be ruined if the boat did not get back to port quickly enough. Therefore a strong wind to put the boat back on course was sometimes essential. One story describes a fishing boat that was stranded in Orkney for a week. The crew, desperate to get home, bought a woollen thread with three knots for the (then) incredibly high sum of half a crown (12½ p in modern money). The woman who sold them the winds warned them against opening the third knot, ‘...for the life of you’ (Cameron 1903: 302). As usual in these stories, the crew undid the first two knots but when in sight of home they became impatient (or reckless) and undid the last one. Predictably the ensuing wind blew them ashore, ‘...just as if the boat was a balloon.’ The story ended with the sailor vowing he would never again buy winds, suggesting this was really intended as a fable rather than a true account, and the moral of the story was intended to deter would-be purchasers. There are similar traditions in old ballads such as The Mermaid (Napier 1879:106) although here the knots to create the tempest are tied in hair rather

than string or cords. Again we notice the appearance of the magical number three in magic connected with knots and the weather. She knotted one ringlet, syne knotted she twain, And sang-lo! thick darkness dropp'd down on the main, She knotted three ringlets, syne knotted she nine, A tempest stoop'd sudden and sharp on the brine. Given that knotted hair is so difficult to untangle, I suspect that ‘knotted three ringlets’ might refer to plaits instead. It might even explain the origin of the popular plaited loaf shapes we see in bakeries which gives us yet another possibility – that of tying knots for weather magic in bread dough, just before the final proving. There is no tradition for this, as far as I know, but it could be interesting to experiment! Sellers of winds sometimes sold other types of spells, too. A woman named Mhor Bhan from Assynt in west Sutherland, Scotland, was a famous local seller of winds. She was murdered by two young men who believed she had hexed them. Intent on revenge, they crept up behind her, threw a noose over her head and strangled her. (Notice that a noose too, is a type of knot). For one brief moment she caught sight of one of them and it was said that her dying glance drove him insane for the rest of his life (Cameron 1903:301).

Recreating tying up the winds Although we don’t know exactly how people tied up the winds years ago, we can make a few educated guesses, and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t try and recreate our own wind spell. This is where our Magical Journal/Book of Shadows really comes in useful as a resource for later work. Winds are skittish creatures at the best of times, and it’s rare for two wind spells to turn out exactly the same. There are some extra items we should record when we attempt this type of work including the moon phase, current weather, temperature and even (if we have a barometer) the current air pressure. With a written record we can refer back and check for overall patterns. Although we do not know what conditions had to be met before the old wind charms were created, we do know that the cords for wind spells were usually prepared before they were

actually needed, since it is undoing the knot that releases the spell intention. Basically therefore, the spell has two parts: (1) tying the wind up in the knot and (2) untying and releasing it. We are never told of any instructions being given other than to avoid undoing the third knot. This type of spell allows the two parts to be performed hours – even weeks – apart. And this of course is another good reason for keeping a record of how we perform a spell, because we are unlikely to remember much about it later! Firstly though, we need to think about the purpose of the spell. To bind a breeze into a cord and then release it. Where does the wind come from? Where do we want it to go? Although nothing is said about this in old accounts about selling winds, it seems likely they would have been grouped together according to direction. Possibly different knots, types of cord or even colours were used to distinguish them. A quick look at an ordinary atlas shows how the wind’s characteristics are influenced by its direction. Winds are always named after the direction from whence they come, so a south wind comes from the south and heads north. For example, north winds come down to us (in the UK, at any rate) from the polar regions, i.e. north, north-west or north-easterly. This involves cold air moving over the sea, which becomes warmer as the wind moves further south. The result is the huge fluffy cumulus clouds that bring cold, wet weather in their wake. Winds from the south west (again for the UK) begin in warm, tropical areas. As they head north, they pass over water that is cooler than the air, creating fog and stratus clouds. These in turn produce drizzle especially around the coast or over high ground. So winds from this direction produce overcast, wet weather. However winds from the south and south east (which occur usually in summer) pass over more land than those from the south west. Therefore instead of bringing in rain and fog, they tend to bring warm, dry weather, but also the very heavy, thundery conditions we sometimes experience in

summer. Easterly winds, especially in winter, bring extremely cold air to the UK, and include sunshine, rain and even snow. The following suggestions for creating wind charms using Knot Magic have worked for me down the years. They are not exhaustive and in time you will probably find others that suit you better. If we keep recording our methods then in time we will be able to see what works best for us. So please use the advice that follows as a guide only – and then build on it and make it your own. Using the advice in Chapter Six, we could begin with a blue cord and dip one end in some dark ink. This would symbolise the progression of the winds from a light breeze in a blue sky to a heavy storm in a grey one. It isn’t a traditional method, obviously, but there is no magical law that prohibits it. So in the early days at least – dying one end of a pale cord with black ink may help us visualise our intention. Yet what exactly is our intention? To bind or tie the wind into our knot. To gather it up and hold it fast before eventually releasing it. And we know from old accounts that the person casting the spell did not have to be present when they were untied in order for them to work. So why was the first knot just a breeze when the third was virtually a hurricane? And how did anyone know which knot to untie first? Certainly there is never any mention of wind-sellers telling their buyers which knot to undo first although perhaps one end was tied differently or marked in some other way. Even though nobody seems to have remarked on this, it is nevertheless quite possible since so many accounts of magic are full of glaring omissions. However, I suspect it is more likely the answer lies in the number of knots that were untied. If each knot held the same strength of wind, then it was the cumulative effect of untying them one after the other that made the winds increase in strength. In order to ‘fix’ the wind within the cord, I begin by blowing firmly and steadily right along its length before tying any knots at all. That means

holding the cord in both hands and blowing along from one end to the other. Clearly I can’t speak while I’m doing this, so I mentally focus on my intention instead. However, I know some people prefer a spoken charm in their spells, so we could try something such as the following, which we could say aloud just after blowing on the cord: And thus I breathe the western winds and hold them close upon, around, within this cord, Be still now and await my call. It’s not poetry, but it says what needs to be said. You may prefer a different wind, or not to name the wind at all, but rely upon whatever direction they happen to be in your vicinity. Next, we have to tie the three knots to bind the wind within not only the cord but also within the knot. We have a to make a choice here: either to cast a spell for each knot in order to create a stronger wind than the one before it, or to rely upon the cumulative effect and make the charm for each knot identical. If we opt for three knots in ascending strength we get something like this: The first knot With this knot (tie the first knot) I bind thee gentle wind. A gentle breeze, no less, no more. I bind these tight until this knot is loosed and sets thee free. The second knot With this knot (tie the second knot) I bind thee fast with gusts (here blow several short, sharp breaths onto the knot) I shut thee up, I bind thee tight, until this knot is loosed and sets thee free. The third knot With this knot, oh fiercest wind, I bind thee fast, I tie thee up, (here blow several of your strongest breaths onto the knot) Now stay thou must until set free So mote it be, so mote it be.

Alternatively if we opt for the other option, which is to create three knots exactly the same, then we just repeat the statement for the first knot. Although usually I try to avoid archaic language such as ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ in my magic, I feel it is justified here since we after, after all, addressing the wind, which is not something we do every day. I like to treat it – as I treat all types of weather – with some respect. If we prefer however, we can simply replace it with ‘you’ or whatever we feel is more suitable. Finally, what about the ethics of weather magic? Just because something is traditional does not necessarily make it the right thing to do. For example, there was a time when people thought nothing of sacrificing animals in order to cast a spell, whereas I hope anyone reading this would feel quite sickened at the prospect. So, is weather magic – in all its forms – unethical? Are we really risking drought, storms and freak weather? Well, in excess, perhaps. But I don’t believe that the occasional wind charm will upset the entire eco-system and compromise our ethics. After all, wind rarely travels at a steady speed, but rather in gusts, and our spell is highly unlikely to produce a tornado or hurricane since this would require a huge amount of willpower and magical strength. In other words, for our spell to risk damaging the climate it would have to be deliberately destructive. And no single person or even a group is likely to have the strength to call up tempests and who-knows-what-else sufficient to cause environmental disaster. Most of us, if we are realistic, will be doing well if we can call up enough wind to dry a line of washing rather than flattening the neighbourhood with storms.

Chapter Fifteen Knots in Healing and Protective magic, enchanted cows and Witches’ Ladders Knots have traditionally been used in many different types of healing magic, opening or blocking energy channels as required. Perhaps due to their rather lumpy appearance, knots were often associated with wart cures. Nowadays, when warts can be easily treated with freezing (cryotherapy) and salicylic acid, it can be hard to imagine how unsightly untreated warts used to be. When I was a child I absolutely dreaded them. At one time my hands were covered, and well-meaning neighbours and aunts suggested all manner of ‘cures.’ Most of these were fairly traditional. For example, I had to tie a knot for each wart to be treated (it had to be a lengthy piece of string in my case!). Then I had to touch each wart with a different knot before burying the cord somewhere nice and damp, since this would help it to rot more easily. While doing so, I had to repeat the words, 'There is none to redeem it but thee,' a method that is also recorded elsewhere (Hardy 1878:221). Areas such as compost heaps or places where garden manure is waiting to rot down would probably work very well too. The area where I lived was pretty damp for most of the year however. It is best to use natural cord for this type of wart charm, since man-made fibres such as nylon will not decay. The magical thinking behind this is based on the ‘Just as... so may,’ formula. Just as the knotted cord will rot away, so will the warts, having first been magically linked to the string by touching each knot in turn. Hair was also sometimes used for this type of charm although it can be very difficult to tie enough knots in it and it can take a long time to decompose properly. Other wart cures, using bacon or cabbage leaves, work on much the same principle. When I was young it was widely believed that warts were somehow all bound together, and that if you could get rid of the first wart to appear then the rest

would wither and die naturally. This may also explain why the idea of a string of knots would appeal, because it represented the ‘string’ of warts. Occasionally however I come across old accounts of wart healing that really make me wonder whether the author and I have ever inhabited the same planet. For example, an account from March 1938, describes a wart cure dating back to 1887, when a young girl had over fifty warts on her hands. These bled so profusely she was unable to wear gloves (Hayward 1938:2278). Now I suffered from almost as many warts when I was young, but they certainly never bled, nor did I ever know anyone else whose warts did (at least, not unless they had been piercing them with a new pin, which is another favoured method of wart charming). In fact, warts that bleed persistently probably indicate some other, more serious underlying problem. Anyway in this story, the local wart charmer arrived and tied a knot in a piece of wool for each wart. He also forbade anyone from thanking him. Although we are not told why, he may have felt that he had not yet effected the cure and didn’t want to ‘tempt Fate’ by accepting thanks for it in advance. He then left, taking the piece of wool with him. Six weeks later he sent his daughter to see whether the cure was working, promising that if it wasn’t then he would begin a new cure. ‘A careful examination showed that the warts had really gone, and they never returned.’ Now personally, if I had over fifty warts that were bleeding all the time and making my life a misery, I would have noticed straight away if even one of them had disappeared. There would have been no need for a ‘careful examination.’ The warts weren’t hiding behind a chair, they had gone. In fact, I would have been dancing up and down for joy by the time the gardener’s daughter popped by to see how things were going! And this, I think, is a problem with many of these accounts: those doing the recording regarded the stories (and sometimes the people involved) as quaint curiosities, and never thought to ask the right questions when they wrote their reports. Knot Magic was also used for treating sprains, especially in animals. The

following knot charm for healing a horse with a sprained leg was once popular in Ireland and the Highlands of Scotland. Nine knots were tied in a black woollen thread, which was then wound around the sprain. The person performing the charm then had to say the following over the knotted thread: Christ went out In the morning early, He found the legs of the horses In fragments soft; He put marrow to marrow, He put pith to pith, He put bone to bone, He put membrane to membrane, etc. ‘ (Hull 1910:437-8) The appearance of Jesus in a magical charm should not surprise us, as the spell is basically a Christianised version of the famous tenth century Second Merseburger Charm from Germany. In the original charm, it is Odin who cures the wounded animal, although the words are very similar. This just goes to show how the same spell could be adapted to different spiritual traditions and different deities. Reef knots were always popular in protective magic, especially when tied in the hair of a white stallion, around the little finger. This was sometimes called the heart finger, although this term is also used for the third, or ring finger. The Romans called the vein in the third finger the vena amoris because it was believed (wrongly as it turns out) that a special vein ran directly from this finger to the heart. There is an interesting Cornish story that describes how, in the early 20th century, a doctor was called out to a three week old baby whose little finger was very swollen. He discovered a white hair tied tightly around its finger, using a reef knot (Taylor 1933:309). Presumably a family member had secretly tied a piece of white horse hair around the child’s finger in order to protect it. The ever curious Roman author, Pliny recommended curing swellings in the

groin due to ulcers, by ‘...inserting in the sores three horse-hairs, tied with as many knots’ (Pliny, Nat. History Book 28, Chapter 61). Not only would this have been very uncomfortable, but inserting anything into an ulcer or cyst would probably cause it to become infected. Knot Magic seems to have been remarkably flexible. Another use for it was in healing animals thought to be enchanted, in particular cows who either weren’t producing milk, or whose milk refused to churn into butter properly. One cure involved stealing a length of ‘homespun yarn’ from the home of the person thought to be responsible for the hex, and tie nine knots in it. However, the ninth knot had to be broken off and thrown over the left shoulder. The remainder of the yarn was then taken indoors to wherever the butter was being churned. Next a horseshoe had to be heated (but not so hot that it turned red) and was placed – along with the yarn with the remaining eight knots on it - beneath the churn to get the butter forming again (Singleton 1904:458).

Witches’ Ladders The problem of bewitched cows and milk that could not be churned into butter seems to have been prevalent right across Europe over a long period of time. Just as the solution often involved Knot Magic, so the method of enchantment may well have used knots tied in a so-called Witches’ Ladder. I say ‘so-called’ since there are so many conflicting theories about this object’s origins. For example, there are tales of witches magically milking their neighbours’ cows by means of a rope. Sometimes the rope was an ordinary tether or rope halter rather than something that had been purpose made. No knots are mentioned and the magic was probably effected by means of a charm. In one such example, a boy from the Scottish Highlands claimed to be able to steal milk by milking the cow’s rope halter while reciting ‘certain incantations’ (Napier 1879:75). As usual, these charms were never recorded, nor are we told whether the boy tied any knots in the rope. The type of rope used is sometimes significant. While some accounts only mention ‘a rope’, others specify that it had to be made from tail hairs

belonging to the cows whose milk was to be stolen. This suggests the magic worked by some type of magical transference. Of course it must have been difficult to insert such hairs, and perhaps they were twisted in with an ordinary rope while it was being made. Yet if the ‘witch’ could access the cows’ hair, it suggests she had some access to the cows too. If so, she might just have well have milked them manually instead of stealing the hairs and then using magic. Many accounts describe the witch ‘pulling’ on the rope as though milking a cow’s udder, a form of the ‘Just as... so may’ formula. Sometimes, however, the rope’s power was said to be due to it being used to sweep the May-dew from the cow’s usual pasture (Henderson, 1879:199). May-dew was always regarded as powerful (especially as a beauty aid) and again we see magical transference at work, although perhaps less powerful than the rope containing the cows’ hair. Another method for milking several cows in one session required a knot to be tied for each cow. Pulling on each knot in turn, while uttering a spell (yet again, the words have not survived) would then cause the milk to flow into the witch’s bucket (Chambers, 1870: 329). The idea of using ropes in order to steal milk is an old one. For example, in 1633 in Lancashire, ten year old Edmund Robinson testified in the second trial of the Pendle witches, that he had seen six people pulling at six ropes which had been tied to the top of a house. Not only milk, but also smoking joints of meat and lumps of butter came tumbling down the ropes and into waiting basins (Harland and Wilkinson, 1867:196). Edmund later retracted his story, although the fact he was so readily believed at first does suggest there was a long-standing tradition that milk – and other dairy products – could be stolen by pulling on ropes, whether or not there were knots in them. And the rope must surely have been secured with a knot somewhere, otherwise it would just have flapped around and it would have been impossible to pull on it. There is also evidence, especially from Germany and Bohemia, that the best ropes for milking were cut from a church bell rope. The similarity here,

between ‘pulling’ the bell rope, and pulling the rope for the milking is unmistakable. A broomstick was another alternative; the method was to push one end into the wall and then work it like a pump handle. As a result the milk would flow from the other end of the stick and into the bucket (Frazer 1887:82). However, I cannot help wondering about such accounts. After all, a simple hole in a wall simply would not allow the stick to move easily up and down without breaking, while a larger hole would allow the stick to slip out onto the floor. Also, if we’re pumping the stick up and down and the milk is coming out of the handle, then it would surely splatter all over the place as the stick moved? One of the problems with witches’ ladders (as opposed to a plain ‘milking rope’) is that nobody can agree what they looked like. Nowadays it is usually assumed they were made of thick cord or string, with a loop at one end, and with feathers inserted at right angles to the cord along its length. Indeed, the Pitt Rivers Museum in Oxford, has a famous example from Wellington in Somerset that is a metre and a half long (around five feet) and half an inch in diameter. This was donated to the museum back in 1911, although it was much older than that, having been found in the attic of a house belonging to an elderly woman who was rumoured to be a witch. We do not know her name nor whether the rumours were true. The story took off largely because of an article that had been written earlier, in 1887, by a doctor named Abraham Colles. In it, he described how a witch’s ladder, along with six heather brooms and an armchair, had been discovered when a very old farmhouse had been demolished years before (Colles 1887:1-5). The items had been hidden in an upper room that lacked any means of access from the ground floor. The chair had a rush seat and was full of woodworm. With admirable thriftiness, the brooms were given new handles and used until they finally wore out. The workmen who found the items had some theories of their own about the purpose of such objects. Apparently the chair was for ‘witches’ to rest in, the brooms for them to ride upon and the ladder to enable them to cross the roof. This suggests the items had a protective function although we don’t know

whether this was a common local belief or just one man’s opinion. However the ‘ladder’ in the Pitt Rivers’ Museum was believed to cause people’s deaths although there seems to be no evidence whatsoever to support this. What is interesting though is that the feathers were apparently inserted into the rope as it was being made and not afterwards. Therefore the object was only ever intended to be as it appears, i.e. nobody took a length of rope or cord and stuck feathers in it. This is very significant, since using new items to create a magical tool is still the preferred method for many people, as it avoids the need to cleanse the item first. Even so, it seems quite likely this was not a witch’s ladder at all, since pulling on or ‘milking’ a rope with feathers inserted into it would be an almost impossible task. It would not only be very uncomfortable but the feathers would snap. Whatever else that cord in the Wellington house was used for, I very much doubt it was for stealing milk! Yet the legends persist and while it is true that Victorian and Edwardian folklorists collected a huge amount of oral material that would otherwise have been lost forever, they did tend to see things through the lens of their own expectations. Also we can never be sure just how honest some of their sources were. People who had kept secrets for years about the way they had conducted their magic were unlikely to have simply ‘spilled the beans’ to people they barely knew. There are of course other items known as witches’ ladders but these look quite different from the one described above. Some were quite small, just a few inches long, and made of wheat straw. These, I feel, are more convincing. They had to be waved a few times while stating what was required, such as getting the fire to burn, or the irons to heat up properly (Ashby 1887:84). There is no mention of ‘milking’ them in order to enchant the neighbours’ cattle, and certainly nothing about causing people to die. Since these ‘ladders’ comprised just a few lengths of wheat straw tied into a ‘ladder’ shape and with feathers inserted and tied here and there, they must have been relatively delicate and probably needed replacing after just a couple of uses.

I am inclined to accept much of what Ashby says, partly because of the simplicity of his account. For example, he gives clear, unambiguous instructions as to construction, ‘Take four straws, tie two together, top and bottom, for one side of the ladder. Tie the other two in same manner, and then insert short straws between for steps. Now take small feathers and place them up each side of the ladder, and you have a real Somersetshire witches' ladder.’ Also, unlike many other accounts of the period, Ashby is quite specific about what was said and done, i.e. ‘Swing the ladder, saying, ”Burn fire,” “Irons heat,” &c., and all will be well.’ The man’s simplicity is admirable. There is no attempt to fob the reader off with any vague statement such as ‘magic words’. He appears to have just written down what he was told and nothing more. Of course, the accuracy of his informant is something else altogether, and cannot be proved either way after so many years. So what does this mean for a modern witch or caster of spells? I have seen many websites claiming all sorts of things for witches’ ladders, and I would really like to believe many of them. Indeed I am sometimes criticised for my caution. However, although strings, knots, feathers and straw may well be a part of the picture, I can’t help feeling that since the original idea is lost, many people are just inventing their own versions. Even back in 1890, just three years after Colles wrote his influential account, the witches’ ladder was being described as a ‘...hitherto unnoticed instrument of sorcery’ (Burne 1890:313). Yet still I come across websites quoting ‘Witches’ Ladder Spells’ that they claim are centuries old. Of course there is absolutely nothing wrong our creating a modern version of witches’ ladders as long as we don’t try and claim they are traditional when they are clearly not. A modern version should include the feathers and knots, and if wheat straw is not easily available, we can tie thin twigs together with natural materials such as cotton, string or even grass to create each rung of the ladder. It is important, too, to keep the ladder small; the one Ashby described was probably little more than six to eight inches long and about two inches wide. Anything larger would have wobbled too much! Feathers that we find while

we’re out and about are probably best, but bought ones will do. If it’s too fiddly to tie them to the frame, then glue them first and then tie with simple knots once they’re securely in place. The action accompanying witch’s ladder spells is described as ‘Swinging the ladder.’ Possibly the idea was to allow the feathers to waft the magic through the air. It should be a gentle action, I think, not too heavy-handed, especially if the ladder was originally made – as Ashby suggests – from straw.

Knotted Lace Another interesting piece of knot work appears in the late fourteenth century story of Sir Gawayne and Bertilak, the Green Knight. Bertilak’s lady persuades Gawayne to accept her green lace girdle, telling him it will save his life in his coming encounter with her husband who intends to behead him. Unlike most belts, this one has no buckle, but is tied with a knot. Certainly Gawayne seems to have believed in its power, since although he had previously agreed to pass on to Bertilak any gifts he received from his wife, in this instance he decides not to. Yet Gawayne, being a basically chivalrous young man, is finally overcome with guilt, especially since the Green Knight never really tries to kill him. When he returns to Camelot, Gawayne wears the green lace girdle as a symbol of his disgrace. However, when the Knights of the Round Table hear his tale they decide to adopt the green lace as their badge, wearing it over the right shoulder and knotted beneath the left arm. This abrupt change from disgrace to pride suggests there was indeed some powerful magic present in the green knotted lace. Another interesting piece of magical symbolism in this story is that Gawayne’s personal emblem is described as a golden pentangle on a red background, sometimes described as an ‘endless knot’ (lines 629-30 Ms. Cotton Nero A. x ). Possibly Gawayne was already following some magical interests of his own, and it was these that enabled him to recognise the power in the green lace girdle. Otherwise he would have handed it over to the Green Knight straight away. He who carried a magical emblem could be expected to recognise magic elsewhere!

However, what intrigues me most is the idea of wearing a piece of green knotted lace for magical protection. Unlike the witches’ ladders, the tradition does indeed stretch back a long way. Yet it receives little or no recognition from modern witches. Perhaps this should be rectified. It certainly would be interesting to see how many people would adopt it for protection!

Chapter Sixteen Knotted rags, Trees and healing No matter what our intention, most magical and ritual acts either say ‘Please’ or ‘Thank you’ in some shape or form and Knot Magic follows this guideline. One of the most popular folk traditions, where knotted rags etc., are tied on certain trees and bushes in order to obtain healing, is also based on the same premise. We are either saying ‘Please’ to request a cure, or ‘Thank you’ after the cure has been effected. It is a very old tradition too; two thousand years ago, the Roman poet Ovid (Fasti III, 267) described how country people hung rags on the hedge surrounding the sacred grove at Aricia. Traditionally, the rags were tied onto the branches rather than being fastened by clips, pins or any other means, although we don’t know whether a special type of knot had to be used or whether anything would do. Most people, or at least those with no special knotting skills, would probably use a very basic granny knot. Usually the rags were either bandages or scraps of the patient’s clothing. This is another example of using magical transference, this time as a link between the patient and both the disease and its cure. The method dates back to at least the time of the ancient Assyrians (circa 3rd millennium BCE). The coming of Christianity did little to prevent the practice either; in the late tenth century Burchard, Bishop of Worms, still felt he must condemn the tying of knots and also ‘nefarious bandages’ hidden in trees (McNeill 1933: Paragraph 54). Apart from rags and bandages, other things could be used depending on what was available. These included threads, beads, hairs, etc. They too worked by connecting the healing power of the tree to the patient via the items’ personal magnetism and magical transference. Beads and knots seem to have been natural companions since time

immemorial. The ancient Mesopotamian inscription Muššu ɔ u VIII/d for healing paralysis in the left hand instructed that beads of iron, magnetite, alabaster, lapis lazuli; black obsidian, coral and carnelian should be threaded onto a black string. The tying of seven knots in the thread should then be accompanied by saying iba ḫ ditto before binding the entire thing around the patient’s left hand (Böck 2003:13). A rather more recent example, this time from 1911, tells of a woman from Guilden Morden, Cambridgeshire, who owned a healing ‘bloodstone’ (Williams 1912, 349). Now although there is a type of stone called a bloodstone, the one in this example was actually an old bead that had five wavy lines, two white and three orange. It hung on a piece of red silk with three knots in it and had been in her family for some time. Her greatgrandfather had bought it for three guineas (an enormous sum at the time) in order to cure her father’s nosebleeds when he was a child. Once a nosebleed started, a few drops of the blood were allowed to fall onto the bead, which was then hung low down on the patient’s back next to their skin. As the blood dried on the stone, the nosebleed would also dry up and stop, a good example of the ‘Just as... so may’ principle in magic. This bead was said to be so effective that people often asked to borrow it. To me, the cure sounds closely related to the idea of hanging something cold, like a bunch of keys down the patient’s back in order to staunch the bleeding! Red was always a popular colour for cords used in healing magic. In the Anglo-Saxon medical treatise, the Lacnunga (45) tying clove-wort around a man’s neck with a red thread during April or October on a waning moon was supposed to cure lunacy. If no leech (healer) was available to perform the spell, then tying a red thread in a ‘healing’ tree or bush might well have been regarded as a reasonable alternative. A red thread, usually of wool, was also sometimes used for tying various herbs around the head to cure a headache. This may have originated with the belief that the colour red could expel demons and evil spirits. Years ago, before the advent of chemical dyes, bright red was a rare and expensive colour. Therefore any red bandages tied on a healing tree probably were probably either an earthy, reddish brown or were indeed blood stained. Yet in

Israel, rags tied in healing trees were usually green or white, with white especially popular in the southern desert regions, and green in the north (Dafni 2002: 317) ‘Rag Trees’ growing near running water or healing wells seem to have been particularly popular for this type of magic. At the end of the nineteenth century, the Journal for St Bartholomew’s hospital (cited in Wetherell 1900) recorded how, in Devon, people tied three knots in a thread around the branch of an ash tree growing near a stream in order to cure childhood thrush. This is a painful condition causing white patches in the mouth, making it difficult to eat and drink. For three days, the affected children had to return and tie more knots. Presumably a family member tied them for very young children. The source does not tell us how many knots were tied each day, although three seems most likely (making a total of nine). On the last day, the knotted thread was passed through the child’s mouth to effect the cure (Wetherell 1900 Vol vii:187). Despite the progress of modern medicine, tying rags and bandages on trees in order to obtain healing still remains curiously popular. It is a pity however that so many are now tied in synthetic fabrics that will not degrade naturally. It rather defeats the purpose of the magic!

Chapter Seventeen Knots and LOVE SPELLS, KNOTS AND hexing We might expect that knots would have played an important role in love magic, but if they did, then much of that tradition seems to have been lost. Alternatively it may be that people were secretive about such things since Knot Magic was also closely associated with hexing performed against those who were in love. However, in fairness, some classical authors such as Virgil do mention knots in love spells, as we earlier saw in his eighth Eclogue: Around his waxen image first I wind Three woollen fillets, of three colours join'd; Thrice bind about his thrice-devoted head, Which round the sacred altar thrice is led. Unequal numbers please the gods. My charms, Restore my Daphnis to my longing arms. Knit with three knots the fillets; knit 'em straight; And say, "These knots to love I consecrate.” However, before we get too carried away, we must remember this is a poem, not a magical text. Winding knots around a wax effigy is interesting and I certainly know of one or two witches years ago who went in for this sort of thing. However, Virgil was not (as far as we know) a practitioner of magic even though by the Middle Ages there were plenty who claimed otherwise. Virgil may have had many valid reasons for writing as he did. For example, he may have been presenting an exotic piece of fantasy, with an eye to dramatic effect rather than magical realism. Or he may have been inspired by hearing about local magicians via gossip and rumour. He may even have been drawing on existing popular beliefs and practices that were already well known to his readers. How far these were honestly represented however, and how far he added his own ‘spin’ to them is something we shall never know. Nowadays we tend to think of love spells as being performed to find us a

lover, or to keep someone in our lives. This was very much the case in the ancient world too; some spells were intended to recover a lost lover, or one who was simply not interested. Other love spells, known as ‘erotic curses,’ were rather different. These were designed to force the victim to go and (usually) have sex with whomever cast the spell. This may explain why love spells are still regarded with suspicion, and are banished towards the shady end of the magical repertoire. Knot Magic was also used in order to try and obstruct true love. This is not just the traditional Knot Magic curse designed to cause impotence, but also to break the pre-existing affection between two people. Some of this information has come down to us in the form of folk songs. For example in a balled called ‘Witch Lady’ we read: For lang has the Ladye of Earlstone toure Begrudgit ye yere William's love. And her witch-knottes power in ane evyl houre, 'Mang his hearte's strings scho has wove... (quoted in Napier 1879:118) This shows there was a popular belief in the power of knots and their association with witchcraft, hence the ‘witch-knottes’. Another old ballad, Willie’s Ladye, tells of a woman who tries to prevent her daughter-in-law from having a baby by tying knots (i.e. plaiting) her hair, but is thwarted when these are untied: Oh, wha has loosed the nine witch-knots That were amang that ladye’s locks? And wha’s ta’en out the kames of care, That were amang that ladye’s hair? (quoted in Lang, 2007 edition :179) This seems to be the female equivalent of ligatura, only in this example it makes the woman unable to conceive. Now admittedly, just because we hear songs telling how people are tying knots in hair order to interfere with others’

love lives, this does not prove such things were really happening. Just as with Virgil’s account, it could be simply a way to ‘spice up’ a story or song and attract listeners. However the tradition of knots being used in harmful magic is widespread enough to suggest there was at least some basis in fact. A less negative story, this time from Wales, concerns a young man who was anxious to find out the identity of his future wife. He was instructed to make a garter knotted with nine tight knots and one much slacker one, which had to be tied around the bed post. Then he placed his shoes and slippers under his pillow in the shape of the letter T. While doing this he had to repeat three times, ‘I do this for to see, Who my future wife is to be, Where she is and what she wears.’ Apart from this, he was forbidden to speak to anyone while performing this ritual, and then he had to undress with his left hand only and get into bed backwards (Morgan 1895:204). What I find particularly interesting about this story is the requirement to place shoes in the shape of the letter T. Shoes and slippers are both strongly associated with love, sex and fertility; just think of the tradition of tying old shoes on the back of the car when a couple leave after getting married! Also, shoes were popular in the iconography of art, where they symbolised some sort of sexual relationship in the hidden narrative of a painting. With regard to the ‘T’ shape, this too is very interesting. As we have already seen back in Chapter One, the capital letter T is in fact a Tau sign. Quite apart from being a letter in the Greek alphabet, this is a very ancient shape associated with creation, regeneration and also (in some of its forms) with masculinity (Healey 1977:289). This would make it particularly suitable for this type of spell, especially since it is a man performing it. Whether the Welshman understood the magical significance of what he was doing however, we do not know. All types of magic have their drawbacks, and love spells are no exception. As we have seen, they have gained a fairly dark reputation over the years. Nowadays, there seems to be a consensus that they are best avoided. However, we must be realistic, and I realise that people who are determined

to perform love spells will probably do so anyway. One word of warning however: the beloved idol, worshipped from afar may turn out to be quite different from our fevered imaginings. Therefore we should be very careful what we wish for, because we might not only get it but be stuck with it. Then what? Must we be tied together for years, and all for the sake of an ill thought out love spell? This is why, if we want to perform a love spell using Knot Magic, I would strongly advise the following precautions: 1. Never cast a love spell without proper preparation or forethought. 2. Think through exactly what you hope to achieve, not just something vague like ‘everlasting love’ that you may later regret. Be precise. And always write down your intentions and all other details in your Book of Shadows/Magical Journal. 3. Carefully follow the basic spell templates given in this book. 4. Do not make the spell permanent especially if it concerns someone you barely know. Be honest with yourself here. Wishful thinking does not count and can cause a great deal of misery. The best thing to do (in my opinion, anyway), is to design the spell to last just a few weeks, perhaps a month or so at most, with a ‘breaking off’ clause included. Something like this perhaps: ‘At the end of ......weeks, being the [date], this spell and its effects shall end. If love still be present, may we continue to love and grow together. If love be not present, or if it fades for either party, then may we part in friendship and both be free to find another love.’ This may sound a bit formal, and the part with the date does sound like a solicitor’s letter, but believe me when I stress how important it is, since we do not always think straight when we believe we are in love. Yet this is precisely the time when we are most in need of an objective eye and a cool magical hand. Few things are more terrible or destructive than love turned to fear, hatred or regret. If this happens then we have to be free to move on. Magic is not –

and never should be – a snare. It has no right to trap us and it is up to us never to grant it such power.

Knots and divination Since time immemorial people have wanted to know what the future holds and used many different methods to help them find out. There are all sorts of reasons for this, two of the most popular being to find out whom one would marry, or whether one’s current partner was being unfaithful. This was clearly the more acceptable face of love magic, to discover what would be, rather than to actively engage and make it happen! Other popular questions concerned health and money. Again this is understandable, although discovering who would die in the coming year might sound a bit ghoulish nowadays. Nevertheless it was a popular subject for divination just a century and a half ago. Most people, living in or near the countryside, chose divination methods using easily available material, such as flowers, fruit and nuts hence the old ritual of pulling the petals of a daisy while saying ‘He loves me, he loves me not.’ Very simple and unambiguous. In some areas, however, such as Oxfordshire, knots were used instead. Anyone suspecting their partner of infidelity would tie four long blades of grass together to make a circle. While tying, the following words had to be recited: If you love me cling all round me, If you hate me fall off quite, If you neither love nor hate Come in two at last. (Parker 1913:80) If the four knots held and the grasses formed a ring then the love was true, if all the knots came undone, then the lover’s true feelings were of hatred, and if only some of the knots came undone, then the lover was indifferent. Clearly much depended on the strength and skill of the knots one could tie!

Knots and hexing Hexing is generally synonymous with cursing or causing harm to others and as a magical practice has been around for thousands of years. In the fourth century BCE, the Greek philosopher Plato stated in his Laws, ‘...he who seems to be the sort of man who injures others by magic knots or enchantments or incantations or any of the like practices, if he be a prophet or diviner let him die...’ Now of course, Knot Magic is no more inherently bad than many other things. Motoring for example, is something many people take for granted, even though it claims thousands of lives every year. It makes no more sense therefore to equate knots with bad magic than with good, since they are only an outward form of the original magical intention which can be channelled in many different ways. In other words, it is not the knot that harms, but the intention of the person casting the spell. And even here, things become a little complicated. For example, when we think of Knot Magic, what type of person do we imagine uses it? It hasn’t been a particularly popular method of spell casting for years, and even I admit that tying knots in a length of parcel string neither looks nor feels very ‘witchy.’ In recent times it has almost faded into obscurity when compared with the beautiful coloured and fragranced candles and incense that are available to buy nowadays. A yard of parcel twine could hardly compete! Yet, centuries ago, it was ligatura, sometimes known as the nouement de l’aiguillette (literally ‘the knotting of the cord’), or Nestel Knüpfen that was the most feared magic of all. And it was practised not only by those who claimed to be skilled in magic, such as wise women or cunning men, but also by those who condemned it most, i.e. the clergy. Now we should not really be surprised at this, since there is ample evidence that some Christian clergy had been involved in magic, divination, charms and creating amulets ever since the Church began to spread its message across Europe. Even so, the clergy’s apparently widespread use of magic to harm people by making them impotent or infertile (usually on their wedding day) remains fairly shocking. Small wonder then that many people still

refuse to believe it!

Yet there is written evidence to support this from the Clergy themselves. For example, the thirteenth century Dominican monk, Albertus Magnus seems to have known something about Knot Magic when he wrote, ‘Take the penis of a newly killed wolf, go to the door of him you wish to bind and call him forth by name. As soon as he answers, tie the penis with a length of white thread and immediately the man will become impotent’ (Muir 2005:46). We don’t know whether Albertus had ever tried this out for himself, but he certainly seems to have understood the underlying magical principles of ligatura. While the Church authorities officially frowned upon and denied involvement in such activities, many parishioners remained convinced that their priests were reciting hexes, knotting cords or leaving out essential parts of the marriage service in order to magically emasculate the bridegroom (Robbins 1997:65). Nor was this confined to the Catholic Church, but included some Protestant pastors as well. Although we do not have the exact details of ligatura spells, if we work on the ‘As above, so below’ principle, then tying knots in string resembles oldfashioned methods for castrating animals. In other words, Knot Magic was a magical form of castration for human beings. If this theory is true, then it might explain why it was believed that some time after the spell was cast and the magical knots had been tied, swellings would appear on the cord. Each swelling was said to represent a baby that had not been conceived due to ligatura. This also explains why such hexes were so feared, since they threatened the existence of future generations. Even the most powerful families could die out within a generation if there was no heir, and the Church regarded preventing conception to be as great a sin as infanticide, a belief that continues among some denominations to this day. So, what could be done? Prevention, then as now, is always better than cure and there were various measures available to try and avoid being hexed on one’s wedding day. One popular method was to marry in secret before the official ceremony, preferably in a different area. Partly this would prevent the parish priest from performing a hex at the wedding, but also it prevented

future hexes, since couples who had already had sex together were considered less susceptible to the power of ligatura (Robbins 1997:66). In fairness, the Church did officially offer some preventative measures, such as blessing the marriage rings or marriage bed. In places where such remedies were not offered (or where congregations did not trust their clergy enough to perform them) one of the most popular deterrents was to marry without wearing any knots or buttons. If this was not possible, for example where the style of clothing had to include knots, such as lacing for corsets, then they would at least leave one shoe untied during the ceremony. Other deterrents included the groom placing two marked coins in his shoes, while the bride hid a ring her shoe. Either method must have been quite uncomfortable and conjures up images of the newlyweds limping miserably out of the church! However, the magical thinking behind the coins and ring was sound, with the two coins representing the testicles, while the ring symbolised with the womb or vagina. The purpose of hiding them was to confuse the hexer so that their spell would miss its intended mark. Other methods of avoiding a wedding hex involved checking for the ligatura knots before the ceremony. These were not always tied in order to cause impotence however. In parts of Montenegro, for example, two ‘bride leaders’ had to first check to see whether any knots had been tied in the fringe of the bride’s strukka (a long fringed shawl). In this area, such knots would have been tied to ensure that the bride either miscarried her first child, or that it would be born disabled (Frazer and Durham 1912:228). Either way, it was still a very cruel hex and must have been greatly feared. If preventative measures did not work, then the next best thing was to find a way of reversing the hex. The most obvious method would be to get hold of the cord and undo the knots. Realistically however, this would be virtually impossible since the hexer was unlikely to leave it lying around where it could be found. If the knotted cord could not be recovered, then sometimes the victims paid the person who had cast the hex to reverse it. Human nature being what it is, I would not be surprised if some people made quite a good living out of

demanding money for reversing hexes, whether or not they had ever actually cast a spell in the first place! Just as knots were sometimes tied in rags (usually for the purposes of healing) they could also be tied in clothing, especially belts, in order to hex. This is a very old idea, where things belonging to a person are considered to have retained their power. Items that had belonged to the dead were thought to be particularly appropriate for this type of work. Burchard, the tenth century Bishop of Worms, (we met him before on the subject of tying rags in trees) wrote that priests should question their parishioners to find out whether they had ‘...tied a dead man's belt in knots in order to harm someone’ (McNeill 1933: paragraph 83). Since it is unlikely such beliefs simply appeared out of thin air in Burchard’s lifetime, this suggests he was trying to eradicate what might have been a very longstanding practice. Sometimes, despite the bride and groom’s best efforts, they still fell foul of a determined hexer with a string full of knots who blighted their sexual bliss and prevented conception. If the hex had been prompted by sexual jealousy it was probably not even possible to pay off whoever cast the spell since if they were determined enough, they could not be bought. In such cases, the remedies, although deeply symbolic, have an air of desperation and unintentional hilarity about them. For example, one remedy suggested a man should remove his wife’s wedding ring, tap a full barrel of wine and ensure the stream flowed through the ring. This was fine providing one had access to a barrel of wine. For those who didn’t, an alternative method in some areas was to urinate through the wedding ring instead (Wayland 1968 :399). One can only hope he washed it before she wore it again! Placing knots on the bride and groom’s clothing did not always foretell misery however. Different areas had different methods and motives in performing knot magic. In Hungary for example, a woman wanting a baby was often advised to tie a knot in her husband’s tunic for each child she wanted (Benedekfalva and Knappe 1941:103).

At first sight this contradicts everything we’ve seen about ligatura, although on closer examination we realise the difference lies in the fact that it was the woman herself, and not a stranger or even a clergyman, who was tying the knot. And it was her intention that decided what the knot should do, i.e. it was her spell. Tying a knot in order to have one’s own child is quite different from tying a knot intended to prevent others from having intercourse or conceiving. There are other examples of magical knots being used willingly, yet symbolically. For example, the name Knut (Cnut, Canute, Knud) derives from an old word for knot, and parents who felt their family was already large enough would sometimes give the name to the child they hoped would be their last. In this sense we see a name representing a physical knot tied in order to prevent more conceptions. Occasionally, a knotted hex was carried out not in order to prevent sex and conception, but in order to punish an unfaithful partner. For example, in and around Naples, witches traditionally used three different coloured knotted cords: a black one to represented the head, a red one for the heart and a white one to symbolise the genitals. Knots tied in the white cord for example created pain in the genitals while the black cord caused pain in the head, and the red cord caused pain in the heart. However the account fails to mention how many knots were tied nor whether they were tied all at once or over a period of time (Andrews and Frazer 1897:5-6).

Creative Thinking One of the most important skills in magic is to learn to act and think creatively. That means creating our own magic, our own spells. We should not rely on any book – including this one – to tell us what to do down to the last detail, in every situation. It’s a bit like cookery books; although they can be a great help, a good cook never follows them slavishly. There are times when we don’t have (or don’t like) some of the ingredients, and then we have to know how to make substitutions. Magic is a lot like that. It creates its own reality, as does living a magical life. Once we learn to be creative, we open the doors to endless magical possibilities.

However in order to act creatively, we first must learn to think creatively, since our actions need underpinning by thought - otherwise they run the risk of collapsing the moment any pressure is placed on us. This is one reason I always emphasise a ‘spiritual journey’ rather than teaching ‘witchcraft’ or ‘magic’ as a journey in its own right. Everything is part of a far greater whole. There is no need to be daunted by this. Thinking creatively is no more difficult than any other type of thought. It’s just a bit different from what most of us are used to, requiring us to look all around, and not just straight ahead. With Knot Magic the flexibility is in-built, since there are so many cords, ribbons, ropes, colours beads, knots and even patterns to choose from each representing so many different magical intentions. For example, the famous Celtic and Anglo-Saxon knot patterns (the sort we see on ancient manuscripts) may be two dimensional, but magical thinking can transform them into something else entirely. The way to make use of them is to copy them out on paper then colour or shade them carefully while concentrating on our spell intention. This can of course, require greater and more prolonged focus than simply tying a couple of overhand knots in a piece of string. Yet it suits some people extremely well, and is definitely worth a try. We shouldn’t be put off by thinking that we have to be particularly artistic, either. Tracing the drawing and then transferring it onto paper works perfectly well, providing that as we work, we keep our intention carefully focussed. Then, when we’ve finished, we send the intention on its way, just as we would with any other spell. My own preferred method is to simply blow on the drawing, keeping my mouth only just above the surface or the paper, so that my breath will skim over it. That allows me to ‘push’ the spell gently out into the cosmos, so it can do its work. The biggest drawback with this particular method is that many Celtic knot patterns are extremely complex and time-consuming to draw, even if we trace them. Personally, if the spell intention is worth it then I don’t mind this.

However, if you don’t have the time or inclination, try creating a single knot rather than a border, something like the one shown below:

Magic – with or without knots – can bring great joy and happiness, if it is used wisely and well. But we must never become obsessed with it. Instead we should allow it to seep into our lives, so that it becomes a part of us and the way we engage with each other and with the world around us. Because the greatest magic of all is found in the thread of life itself.

Happy Knotting!

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Websites: Net and Boom Defenses, Ordnance Pamphlet 636A, 1944:5 can be read in full online at: http://www.hnsa.org/doc/netsandbooms/index.htm#pg1 (Accessed June 2014)

Index A... Adaouste...45 Aestii...59, 60 Albertus Magnus...184 Amber...53, 58-60 Andersen, Hans Christian...141 Anglo-Saxon...8,38,125,176 Ankh...11 Antrea net...95 Aphrodite...52,60 Aratus of Soli...3 Argyll...58 Aricia...175 Assynt...160 Assyria...175 Affirmation...133

B... Babylon...32,127 Baltic...60 Bandages...2,11,85,175-7 Bark...5, 32, 46, 78, 102, 104-5, Barking solution...105,120,155-6 Bertilak...173 Birch...102, 104-6, 156 Black Death...65 Bloodstone...176 Bohemia...169 Boudicca...9 Bread dough...160 Brigid...105, 125 Bristol...3 Broom...78, 170-1

110-117,121, 135-6, 155-7

Burchard of Worms...175, 186

Byzantium...60

C... Cambridgeshire... 176 Celtic button knot...19 Celtic knot patterns...33, 188-9 Cleopatra...60 Clove hitch knot...9 Clove-wort...176 Cobham, Elenor...86 Cornwall...85 Cow hitch knot...9, 90 Crochet...21, 44, 87-91, 120, 135 Crossroads...11, 12, 129 Cumulus clouds...161

D... Demeter...60 Devon...177 Divine Feminine...59, 64, 67 Double stopper knot...18

E... Eggers, Jens...3 Egypt...10, 11, 14, 60, 67, 70, 125 Elder wood...32 Electronic ignition...115 Eleusis...60 Embroidery...3, 21, 44, 61, 78, 85, 87, 88, 120, 135 Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus...4, 14, 30

Essex...49 Ethelred the Unready... 38 Euripides...65

F... Fairy... 47, 52, 58, 59, 63, 64, 143, Figure-of-Eight-Knot... 18-19, First mothers...104 Flemish knot...18 Four Bodily Humours...65 French knot...21, 44, 87 Freya... 105 Frigg...105 Fringes... 61, 62, 90, 185

149 47, 49, 53, 155

G... Gawayne...173-4 Gentle People, The... 47, 52 Germany... 167, 169 Ghost laying...19 Glas...19, 59 Granny knot...13-15, 175 Grief knot...14 Green Knight... 173-4 Green Man... 8

H... Hair...2, 85-7, 89, 120, 146, 160, Half Sennit...16 Harming None...37, 38 Heart Finger...167 Hebrew...3, 64 Hercules’ Knot...14, 15 Hex... 5, 11, 72, 82, 85, 86, 128, Hitler...39 Horus...10, 125

165, 167-9, 175, 179

129, 160, 168, 178, 183-7

Horse...64, 146, 167, 168 Huckaback towel... 85 Hungary...131, 187 I Ireland...47, 105, 167 Isis...10, 125 Israel... 126, 176

J... Jack o’ Lantern...62

K... Knitting... 21, 86-91, 84, 124, Knot of the Heavens... 3 Knut...187 Kore...60

135, 178

L... Lace... 5, 173-4 Lacnunga... 176 Lady of the Forest... 105 Lapp... 19 Lark’s Head knot... 9, 17, 90 Ligatura...2, 179, 183-5, 187 Little finger mesh knot...95

M... Macramé... 15, 17, 21, 24, 87, 89, Magical transference... 169, 175 Magnus, Albertus... 184 Maze... 36 Mermaid, The (Poem)... 160 Merseburger Charm... 167 Mesh knot from under...95

91, 135, 155

Mesh knot from over... 95 Mesopotamia...175 Mhor Bhan (wind seller)...160 Microcosm...126 Mjolnir...10 Montenegro...185 Mother-Die plants...65, 67

N... Naples...187 Neolithic...45, 94 Nets...93, 94, 96-102, 104-6, 111 Nosebleed...49, 56, 176

O... Oak...104-6, 156 Odysseus...53 Odin...105, 167 Old Testament...3, 6, 46, 64 Orkney...159 Osiris...10, 125 Outer Hebrides...58 Overhand knot...15, 17, 94, 95, Ovid...175

145, 188

P... Peace Pledge Union...68 Pentagram...126 Pentangle...173 Performative intention...75, 84, Periwinkles...53 Persians... 10, 127 Plaits...32, 86, 87, 160, 179 Plato...183 Pliny the Elder... 14, 61, 62, 124, Poppies...68

145, 146

168

Prosody...81 Puzzles... 36

Q... Quartz...115

R... Rags...2, 11, 32, 175-7, 186 Ribbon... 1, 2, 5, 32, 44, 45, 49, Rope Walk... 97 Reef knot...14, 15, 95, 167 Rome... 60 Russia... 105, 129

51, 52, 54, 56, 85, 101, 188

S... Samhain... 54 Savoy knot... 18 Sennit...15, 17 Shakespeare...54 Shoes... 4, 5, 103, 180, 185 similia similibus curantur... 4 Slip knot...19 Somerset...170, 172 Sprain...167 Square knot... 14-6 St. Bartholomew’s Hospital... Stornaway... 66 Straw...171-3 Stromness...169 Submarine nets...93, 94 Sulphur...53 Sussex...19

T...

177

Tacitus...59, 60 Tandey, Henry... 38, 39 Tau cross... 10, 11, 125, 180 Thief knot...14, 15 Thor... 10, 104, 105 Thor’s Hammer... 10 Triform... 8, 11, 125 Triple hares... 8, 9 Triskele... 7, 10 Trivium... 11 Turk’s Head knot...14

U... Umbilical Cord...2, 131

V... Valknut...7 vena amoris...167 Venus...52 Virgil...123, 124, 178, 180 Vitruvian Man... 126

W... Wales...47, 180 Walter Scott... 159 Wart...165, 166 Weather spells...27, 66, 91-2, 124, 129, 158-4 Wedding... 62, 65, 98, 183-6 Wedding knots...5 Wiccan Rede...37-8 Will o’ the Wisp...62 Willow...100 Witches’ Ladder...168, 170-4 Witch of Eye...86 Whooping cough... 49

Z... Zagreb...56