Crafting a Prosperity Spell
Full moon, on a Wednesday.
My husband, who left a soul-killing job several months ago and is looking for something in a new field, jokingly asked for a prosperity spell. I went to work.
Looking up correspondences– now, I don’t, myself, believe that stones have actual magical properties, at least not in the hocus-pocus sense of “attracting business;” but I do believe that any symbol can have magical properties in the witch sense, of altering your own mindset and realigning your efforts with the possibilities that nature and other people offer. So the question was, what do I wish for him? (That’s apart from the other question of which stones does New Age People carry at a price I can afford).
Malachite: money, prosperity, self-confidence, energy, focus; an end to depression. Maturity, wisdom. Tiger Eye: self-awareness, an end to stubbornness (he took that well), an increase in self-confidence. Releasing guilt– he had talked about the choking guilt and shame surrounding the memory of how he’d sometimes mishandled the job. Tiger eye is for balance. Sodalite: release of guilt and anger, stress, inner conflict, and other negative energies. Learning. And a silver dime for financial prosperity.
And now selecting things for the spell had become a meditation, a reflection on what we need to work in a balanced way, and more concretely, what I knew of his particular struggles. This movement toward his actual needs became an exercise in compassion, something I had been short on at times when hearing about his work stress.
Herbs and incense: this was less of a stretch for me than looking up stone correspondences, since I resonate with plants. And with smells. Scent is connected to the deepest emotional centers of the brain, so I have no problem saying that mint is for energy, rosemary for healing the past, and so on. As for incense– patchouly is the money scent (or, as my husband called it, “the power of positive stinking”).
Animals: crocodiles and alligators are earth elements, and stand for money, prosperity, and patience. Patience was the first thing I’d looked up in tables of correspondences. I wanted work and rest, diligence and patience. Alas, New Age People was fresh out of alligators and crocs, and there was no time to order. Ditto, bees (patient labor). But they did have dolphins, and these are supposed to convey you from rough waters to smooth, which is where he seems to be heading. I bought one made of tiger eye, to combine its healing of guilt with the dolphin’s movement to easier waters.
Green candle for earth; money.
So now the question was, what to do with all this stuff?
I already had a chant for patient labor: “Plant and pull, plant and pull / Garden fallow, garden full”– but how to add the work and rest? “Work and rest, work and rest / Patient labor’s yield is best.” We could chant that outside, after using the full moon to charge the elements.
And would I make him a talisman to carry? I didn’t think he would, and besides, would it really engage him at the right depth just to put something in his pocket?
“Plant and pull, plant and pull ….” So what about planting? I bought a basil plant, for energy and prosperity, but also for love. I have reacted to years of work stress by pulling away; choosing basil was a little scary for me– it made my love, my engagement, an essential part of the power of the spell.
I prepared a pot of soil, and placed all the things I had bought– plus a dime– in a bowl. I put an offering of compost in another bowl.
I cleansed and cast a circle that ran around the perimeter of the backyard, came into the house, and included the sunroom, where I keep my altar.
We carried out, over the icy back steps, the two bowls, a small cauldron of water, the candle, and my athame. (Also a crystal ball to charge beneath the full moon, but that’s another story). The moon was just rising. The dogs came with us– the older dog is a stargazer, a night sky lover in all weathers, so I regard her as my familiar. She can sit for hours just watching the night horizon, completely attentive, as if she is receiving something.
I offered the compost, and dumped it in the bin. This entailed trudging through deep mud, as well as patches of still unmelted snow and ice. Difficult footing; it needed care. It needed care.
Rejoining my husband, I held up the small bowl of herbs and stones to the full moon. At which point his eyes widened apologetically, and an attack of the runs forced him inside. So I continued to stand there, lifting the bowl to the moon, wondering how long he would be in the bathroom.
When he returned, I placed in the cauldron of water a sprig of rosemary; one of mint; one of parsley (for money and business); of sage (for wisdom and balance); a bay leaf (for success); and a cinnamon stick (to augment the spell). I stirred it with the athame, blessed it, held it up to the moon, expressed the hope that it would bless my husband’s efforts. Then we went inside.
He buried the herbs and the dime in the soil, planted the basil, and watered it with the contents of the cauldron. He arranged the malachite, tiger eye, sodalite, and the dolphin in the soil around the plant. He and I each drank water from the chalice, and I poured the rest around the plant.
Thanks; blessing; opening the circle.
He said he thought he’d been “purged,” both physically (the runs) and emotionally. We forgot, incidentally, the chant; no matter– it’s more important that the spell “flowed.” My husband had never seen me do a ritual or spell, and was impressed by the “reverence.”
He will have to tend the plant, which was the point: magic is not passive. I can’t do something to make employers hire him, or to make him work effectively, or to make him let go of the guilt, anger, or fear that might get in his way. But I can act out with him the process of realignment, and prepare a daily reminder of the inner qualities he will need to be at peace in work or out of it, and of the renewed love and concern that go with him.
He said he felt calmer, and appreciated the care I put into it. I feel more heart whole for his having valued my effort. And now it’s just a matter of tending the basil.