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It’s still early.The city is only half awake.I pad barefoot into the kitchen like into a temple with a kettle, switching it on while yawning so I can prepare my tea. While I wait, I savor this very particular morning quiet — the kind that wraps me in a sense of safety. I light a candle, because before the day really starts moving, I want to use the silence for a gentle invocation. “Brigid,” I say softly, and wait. The flame flickers. I take it as presence. Or as a quiet I’m a

In previous articles, we’ve already explored the idea of new beginnings—and the fact that the “start of the year” does not coincide with January 1st in all cultures (nor for all people today). Time is not experienced the same way everywhere. And change rarely follows a linear calendar. Personally, I have a rather ambivalent relationship with the idea of new beginnings. For me, they are not a clean cut, not a symbolic reset button, but a process unfolding in several stages. My

On Psychology, Breath, Art, and the Thread I Didn’t See Until Now For a long time, my work looked like a collection of threads. Trained in counselling psychology, MBSR, and Pranayama, I had the chance to learn — and share — many concepts that support human wellbeing. Each path offered insight, structure, and depth. And yet, taken on their own, they remained exactly that: threads. Psychology taught me how humans make sense of the world. Counselling taught me how stories shape

The problem isn’t the darkness. It’s that we’ve forgotten how to listen to it. These days, around the Winter Solstice, I hear the same sentence again and again: “I wish it were summer.” Or at least: “If only there were more light.” And I get it. Light feels generous. Light makes many things easier. Summer often asks less of us (at least in some ways) —it stretches the evenings wide, softens our edges, promises movement and possibility. But I also wonder what we lose when w

There are so many stories, myths, and traditions surrounding the winter solstice that it’s hard to know where to begin. We all know the classic Christmas celebration with its lights, scents, and gifts – but how do those who follow nature-spiritual paths celebrate this mysterious threshold between darkness and light? Every family, every community, even every individual, has their own small rituals and magical moments. In our home, it looks like this: we pay attention to the st

The Rauhnächte  are not only a magical transition between the old and the new, they are also an invitation to consciously reflect, let go, and cultivate new energy. While the first article around that topic illuminated the origins, customs, and symbolic meaning, this section is all about practice: how to create your own Between-the-Years journal and use the twelve nights with intention. Why journaling during the 'Rauhnächte' is so powerful During this time, we stand in a

The spiral carries an ancient meaning. As a feminine symbol, it is often associated with Mother Goddesses and with Earth herself. It represents intuition, trust, and our connection to the deepest parts of our being. In past years, I’ve written about the Winter Solstice and its many traditions, but today I want to share one that feels especially sacred to me: the walk of the holy spiral, or the sacred labyrinth. I love walking the spiral—whether purely as a mental, meditative

Here’s a truth I’ve been circling around for years: I’ve been practicing magick for over two decades — witchcraft in the truest sense, ritual work as an act of creation. And yet, I never really allowed art , as our society defines it, to be part of that spellwork. Of course, every ritual is creative: a weaving of intention, symbols, and atmosphere. But art as its own form of witchcraft? That side of me remained untouched, quietly waiting — as if I had kept two worlds neatly s

Christmas is one of those holidays where many act as if the history is clear — when in reality, it’s anything but. Beneath the fairy lights, the scent of pine, and the kitschy commercials lies a much older narrative, one that was celebrated long before anyone in Europe had even heard of Bethlehem. And the deeper you dive into history, the more obvious it becomes: this holiday was already sacred long before it became Christian. I don’t say this to take anyone’s tradition away

I’ve always thought in symbols. Often, long before I had the right words for a situation, I had images. Signs. Patterns. Archetypes that threaded through my life like tiny way finders. Some people see just an old fairy tale, a tarot card, or an astrological glyph — I see a psychological echo, a map of the human experience encoded in imagery older than any language. This fascination has been with me for as long as I can remember. Not necessarily from some esoteric romanticizin

The old gods have many faces. Some people see strength in them, others danger. For me? For me, they are one thing above all else: a calling. Quiet, persistent, unobtrusive. Certainly not political—but deeply personal. I am not an Ásatrú¹. I never have been. But I felt the Nordic world early on: in dreams, in deep forests, in moments when ancestors suddenly seemed to speak. Odin, Freyja, the Norns – they are part of my pantheon, alongside Celtic, Roman, female, queer gods. But

When the fog rolls over the streets and the days grow quieter, a different kind of time begins — not one of loud celebrations, but of honest reflection.November is a threshold month.Between the golden glow of autumn and the deep stillness of winter, it invites us to turn inward.It ’s the time when nature dies in order to renew itself.And perhaps, we too are allowed to release what no longer belongs to us. Shadow work isn’t a dark or gloomy concept. It’s an act of self-care —

There’s something sacred about this time of year ( okay, granted, I do say that about every season, but autumn to be as a person with SPS (Sensory Processing Sensitivity) autumn really is special to me) . As autumn deepens and the veil between worlds thins, nature invites us to slow down, to turn inward, to reflect. Samhain — the ancient festival marking the transition into the dark half of the year — reminds us of cycles, endings, and the quiet wisdom that comes with lettin

Halloween wears many masks. For some, it’s horror movies, plastic spiders, and candy in XXL bags. For us Urban Mystics, it’s Samhain  – a...

This text was written in 2021, on an old blog. Some thoughts are timeless, others may have evolved further—but today it can blossom here in my new magical home. --> to the original article (in German) I recently found myself in one of those conflicts that you don't see coming – and then suddenly everything boils over. You may be familiar with this: first a spark, then fireworks of emotions. After the initial storm had passed and I could breathe again, I came across a term th

Some stories begin with an ending.I was about three years old when I first sensed that something could disappear without truly being gone. My great-uncle had died suddenly — my grandfather’s brother. I remember my grandfather bringing us the news. But I also remember the smell of autumn leaves, the heaviness in the adults’ voices, and the strange feeling that the world had both stopped and kept going at the same time.Maybe that was my first glimpse of the threshold — that fin

We live in a world that has turned even self-care  into another item on the to-do list. Light the candle, roll out the yoga mat, put on the face mask, relax — now . But here’s the truth: forcing yourself to relax is about as effective as commanding a cat to sit still. The moment you add pressure, the magic evaporates. That’s where the witchy way of self-care comes in. Witchcraft has never been about rigid routines or polished perfection. It’s about tuning in, experimenting, a

I’ve got good news and bad news for the fundamentalists, the skeptics, and everyone in between: The bad news is, you’re doing witchcraft....

The waves are still warm, the sand clings to my skin like a lover reluctant to let go, and yet—I can already feel the shift. September...

The city never sleeps — and with your thoughts racing at 2 a.m., neither do you. Deadlines pile up, your phone buzzes like it’s...