I’m holding a grudge against whatever deity, universe, or cosmic force decided it was okay for my mother to die when I was only 30. Actually, twenty-nine. It has been almost four damn years. I can’t believe it was eight days before my birthday and before my twin sister’s her youngest children were even 21.
And you know what? I will forever hold this grudge against whatever divine being made that choice. Because fuck them for taking the only thing I had to rely on, the only parent I ever really had.
When Grief Becomes a Grudge:
There’s something raw about admitting you’re angry at God, at fate, at the universe itself. Society tells us to “let go,” to “find peace,” to “accept what we cannot change.” But sometimes a grudge isn’t just anger…it’s love with nowhere to go.
My grudge isn’t really about hatred. It’s about the unfairness of losing your anchor when you barely feel enough to understand what an anchor even is. It’s about growing old with a mother-shaped hole that no amount of hiking, poetry, self-help books, or well-meaning advice can fill.
The Poetry of Anger
In the witchy, spiritual communities I often steer clear of there’s a lot of pressure to be “love and light” all the time. But what about love and rage? What about the sacred anger that comes from being robbed of something precious?
My grudge is a form of devotion. It says: “She mattered. Her absence matters. The injustice of her early death matters.” How the fuck is it fair she gets to die right after she experiences happiness? Right when she got clean? Like you have to be kidding me!
Some grudges are worth holding and not because they serve us, but because they honor what we’ve lost.
Questions for Your Own Journey:
What grudges are you carrying that might actually be love in disguise?
How do you honor your losses while still moving forward?
When has anger been a teacher rather than a burden?
Sometimes the most honest spiritual practice isn’t forgiveness—it’s admitting that some wounds change us forever, and that’s okay too.
This Sabbat, I didn’t write spells in ink or carve runes in wax.
I just gave the sun my grief.
Grief; I don’t need it
I gave it the weight of every father wound I still carry. The kind of pain that isn’t loud anymore, just permanent. The kind that warps your nervous system, your breath, your sense of what people mean when they say they care.
I offered the fire the fear of abandonment that was planted in me before I could spell the word.
My father placed that fear in my lap like it was mine to own.
Like I asked for it.
Like it wasn’t his to carry.
He gave me years of waiting, promises with no shape, affection that only lived in voicemail. And silence. So much silence. He made me doubt my own worth in the name of “trying.”
He made me wait.
Then made me think it was my fault for expecting him to show.
I’ve carried that shit for decades. And I’m tired.
This year, Litha wasn’t about joy or warmth or some golden glow.
It was about fire.
And what I could let it take.
Bye Jake.. I mean Dad
So I whispered it:
Take the grief.
Take the rage.
Take the pieces of him still embedded in my self-doubt.
Take the echoes of that porch I waited on.
Take the hollowed-out child he left behind every other weekend.
I gave the sun everything I didn’t owe him.
The grief was both closure and combustion.
I didn’t write it out as a ritual, it was a ritual. Every breath I let go of, every memory I finally stopped justifying. Every “but he tried” that I no longer believe.
Let the fire keep it.
This is the year I stopped seeing my pain as something beautiful and started seeing it as something worth burning.
It’s not a symbol. It’s not a lesson. It’s not poetry.
It’s just mine.
And I don’t want it anymore.
Maybe that’s what real witchcraft is:
Not just manifesting joy.
But letting the fire consume what never belonged to you in the first place.
Welcome bright souls to Litha, the peak of summer and the fire festival honoring the sun at its strongest. Litha is also called Midsummer or the Summer Solstice. It marks the longest day of the year. This is when daylight reaches its height and begins to wane. Rooted in ancient pagan traditions, it celebrates the power of the sun, growth, fertility, and abundance.
This guide will walk you through Litha’s origins and common celebrations. It covers altar setups, ceremonial ideas, and offerings. You will also find tips for recharging your self-love spell bag with the season’s vibrant energy.
🔥 Origins and Meaning of Litha
Litha traces back to many European pagan cultures including Celtic, Germanic, and Slavic peoples. It was a sacred turning point in the Wheel of the Year. It symbolized the sun god at his strongest and the earth abundant with life. Bonfires were lit to honor the sun and keep away dark spirits. People celebrated fertility, protection, and the balance between light and dark.
Today, many witches and pagans honor Litha as a time of joy, illumination, and gratitude for nature’s gifts.
🌿 Common Litha Celebrations and Traditions
Bonfires and Fire Rituals: Lighting fire symbolizes the sun’s power and cleansing energy.
Dancing and Singing: These communal celebrations often include music, dance, and storytelling around fires.
Gathering Herbs and Flowers: Flowers like St. John’s Wort, yarrow, and daisies are collected for magic and medicine
Altar Swaps: Refresh your altar with bright colors (yellow, gold, orange, red) and sun symbols such as sunflowers or sun wheels
Feasting: Seasonal foods including fresh fruits, grains, and honey are shared
Offerings: Leaving out bread, wine, honey, or flowers for spirits and ancestors to honor their guidance and presence
🔥 Building Your Litha Altar
Set up an altar that radiates the sun’s energy and the fullness of summer:
Colors: Gold, yellow, orange, red
Candles: Beeswax or yellow candles to represent sunlight
Herbs: Calendula, lemongrass, lavender, St. John’s Wort
Crystals: Citrine, amber, sunstone, tiger’s eye
Symbols: Sunflowers, sun wheels, fire symbols, shells (for the water balance)
Use Litha to express gratitude to the sun’s life-giving energy and to honor ancestors who guide and protect:
Light a candle or bonfire in their memory Leave offerings on your altar or outside in nature Write a letter to an ancestor or spirit and burn it safely to release intentions or messages
💖 Recharging Your Self-Love Spell Bag for Litha
The powerful sun energy at Litha makes this a perfect time to refresh your self-love spell bag:
Place your spell bag in direct sunlight for at least an hour to charge it with vibrant energy Speak or meditate on your intentions for self-love, confidence, and inner strength Optionally, leave the bag under the full moon the next night for balance and calm Keep the spell bag with you throughout the day in your purse, car, desk, or pillowcase to carry the sun’s warmth and self-love energy with you
Lilith’s Fierce Self Love at Litha 🔥🖤
Alongside the blazing sun of Litha, we honor Lilith. She is the primal and powerful feminine force of independence. Lilith embodies courage and unapologetic self-love. Lilith reminds us that true self-love is not always soft, sometimes it’s fierce boundary setting and wild.
At Litha as the sun reaches its peak strength call on Lilith’s energy to:
• Reclaim your personal power and autonomy
• Embrace your shadow self without shame or fear
• Set bold boundaries in love and life
• Celebrate your wild untamed spirit
You can add a small symbol or image representing Lilith to your altar. This could be something like a crescent moon or a black rose. Additionally, include her in your self love intentions as you recharge your spell bag. This is a time to love yourself fully light and shadow alike.
✨ May your light shine bright this Litha and your heart bloom with love and power.
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Reading poems, you wrote long ago and realizing you don’t live there anymore. The art of growth is beautiful for it is unseen until it is actually seen.
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