You are the Magic
This isn’t about spellwork — It’s about self-return.
Why you don’t have to be a witch to make magic that matters
When people hear that I make spell jars or ritual candles, I can see the assumptions wash over their face — even if they don’t say it out loud. Some people imagine potions and black cats. Others think it’s anti-religious or too “woo woo” for them. And then there are those who think it’s just cute, trendy, aesthetic.
None of those things are what this is really about.
My first real spell jar wasn’t even mine. It was a gift — a tiny, thoughtful fertility jar my sister-in-law gave me when we were deep in the storm of infertility. I placed it next to my bed, not thinking much of it — and that was the month we finally got pregnant.
Now, I’m not saying the jar made it happen. But it held my intention. It reminded me every day that something sacred was possible. That I was allowed to hope.
That’s what spell jars became for me: tiny containers of hope.
I wasn’t practicing witchcraft. I was practicing self-trust.
And you don’t have to be a witch to want clarity. You don’t have to read tarot or practice paganism to feel overwhelmed, stuck, or disconnected. You don’t have to worship the moon to want peace. You just have to want more for yourself. You just have to want to feel something again.
And that is more than enough.
Spellwork — for me — is about intention.
It’s about choosing to pause in a world that demands speed. It’s about saying, “This is what I need,” and honoring it in a tangible way. It’s about connecting to the version of me that knows what she wants — and finally listens.
Lighting a candle with a handwritten prayer? That’s spellwork.
Tucking dried flowers and herbs into a jar while whispering your hopes to the universe? That’s spellwork.
Looking up at the eclipse and asking it to show you the truth? Also spellwork.
But so is crying.
So is making a boundary.
So is learning to tell the truth, even when it makes people uncomfortable.
The real magic is in the intention behind the action.
The jars, the herbs, the rituals — they’re just anchors.
What changes your life is you.
The version of you that stops abandoning herself. That lights a candle and means it. That speaks her needs, even when her voice shakes.
And listen — you can believe in Jesus and still set intentions. You can believe in nothing at all and still find comfort in lighting a candle before a hard conversation. You can believe in science and therapy and still carry a crystal in your pocket like a tiny love note to your nervous system.
You don’t have to pick a box. You don’t have to make it make sense to anyone but you.
So if the word “spell” feels too loaded, change it. Call it an intention jar. Call it a hope candle. Call it your “emotional first aid kit.” Call it whatever you need to.
This isn’t about labels. This is about liberation.
Your ritual can be:
Crying into a spell candle at midnight because you’re finally letting yourself feel
Stirring your morning coffee with intention and asking the day to be gentle
Taking a walk barefoot in your backyard while whispering to the version of you that’s becoming
You don’t need to “believe” in spells to use them. You just need to believe in you.
Because this isn’t about spellwork. It’s about self-return.
— Kristin Holloway
April 17, 2025
Extra Magic
You don’t have to follow a path to find yourself. You just have to stop running from the truth that’s already inside you.
Journal Prompt: What does sacred mean to me — and how might I reclaim that word in my own way?