Another point about having a relationship with your landbase, about being the Witch of Your Place:
Get to know your house. Now, after a year of COVID, that might sound odd. Surely by now you know every room, closet, cabinet, and corner almost too well. But what about the Spirit of the house? As an animist, I believe that everything has Spirit, has consciousness, has a life. And houses certainly do. Whether you live in a centuries-old farmhouse or in a newly-built apartment on the 23rd floor, you home is alive and it wants to know you.
You can start by finding out as much about it as possible. Zillow will probably show you at least the last few owners. Land records may tell you more. What was the land before the house was built? Farmland? A campground? Wild space? (I recently learned that my home sits on land that was cedar forest, which makes sense because when I moved here, the sense I had was of a spirit made of cedar wood being very curious about what I was and why I was coming here.)
But I also want to encourage you to talk to the house. Maybe the first few times you do this, you’ll want to cast sacred space, call Hestia, and formally introduce yourself. Tell the house that you are coming to it with an open heart and that you want to be in right relationship to it. Ask the house to tell you what it wants you to know. If it helps you, stare into a candle flame, or mirror, or scrying bowl and listen to what the house has to say. Houses often communicate to you with scenes and scents, so don’t dismiss those as “just my imagination,” or “my subconscious,” or even “a random event.” If you ask the house to tell you something and you hear creaks coming from the guest room closet, open your heart and go investigate. Maybe that’s where you need to sit to meditate with your house. After a while, talking to your house gets to be kind of like talking to a constant companion and can be less formal. Although annually, maybe on your move-in date, it’s nice to do something more elaborate. (The Romans celebrated Vesta’s feast day around June 7th, and that’s a lovely time of year to throw open all the windows, sage all the rooms, sprinkle lavender water in the corners, pour a bit of oil or spread some bay leaves on your hearth (yes, you have one even if you don’t have a fireplace; it may be your microwave) and sing your house its favorite song.)
Which brings us to the fact that houses, in my experience, like presents. My Moon is in Taurus and somehow I wind up in homes that like EXPENSIVE presents, but the presents that establish relationships don’t have to be costly. When I moved into this home, I gave it a bag of locally-produced cornmeal on the mantle for a few days and then scattered the cornmeal in a circle around the house. A good cleaning (especially now in Spring) can be a gift to your house and a window washing is something EVERY house loves. Sometimes, even gifts for you can make the house happy: a tool set so you can make small repairs as soon as they’re needed, new matching towels for the bathroom, new batteries in the smoke detector (really, you should definitely do this as an act of magic, calling in protection for you AND the house). Houses also love plans — after all, nearly all of them started as plans on a piece of paper. So making a plan for annual maintenance or for weekly cleaning can be a satisfying way to show your house that you’re as serious about doing things for it as you want it to be about doing things for you.
When friends move into new homes, I was taught to give them bread, a beverage (often wine), a candle, and some salt. I say, “May you never hunger. May you never thirst. May you always be warm. May your life always have savor.” What gifts would you like your friends to give your house? Do you ever talk to your house? What rituals do you have?
Picture found here.