Sitting Out by Levannah Morgan

 

As I have mentioned it somewhere earlier on Witchy Magic Circle, I never find books, they simply find me. It is only that this time, a certain magazine found me.

A few months ago, Fiddler’s Green Peculiar Parish Magazine found a way to get to me, all through the Atlantic Ocean. The best things come to me through water. It dived and shivered, wandered and quivered until it arrived and showed itself in the best possible light.

The world of Fiddler's Green is full of Ray Bradbury's unwordly magic. You can find wolves and scarecrows, magic practice, occult and all the otherworldly matter which is always so difficult to explain to the ones who have never tasted it. It depicts our inner worlds, the deepest one of all the worlds.

In last year's November issue I discovered unicorns and birds, werewolves and imaginal realms. When the issue saw the light of the day, Venus was in Capricorn and we were all searching for commitment and longevity. As you know, we all do it differently and we all finish in different places in the same forest. My place in November's Fiddler's Green was the text named Sitting Out written by Levannah Morgan. It was the place where I was at ease with myself, where I recognised a voice and a language that I could fully understand. There is no possible way to explain magic, no words could ever explain the texture of the fabric from other world. Magic can be understood only through practice. I believe that Levannah Morgan knows it and that is why her text Sitting Out is so ravishingly simple and harmonious. Magic is like that, simple and powerful and, through Levannah's pen, I felt the winds and the rain of Ashclyst Forest in Devon and remembered all my sittings out and felt glad that someone somewhere does the same and feels similar about exploring the other world.

At the end of the text you can find her short biography. Her book, A Witch's Mirror, was published in a new, revised and illustrated edition by The Universe Machine in November 2021 and her next book, A Sea Witch's Companion, will be published by Robert Hale in June.

I send my regards and my whisperings to Clint Marsh, editor and publisher of Fiddler’s Green Peculiar Parish Magazine, for helping me reach out to Levannah Morgan and obtain her permission to publish the text. I am very grateful to Levannah Morgan for accepting to be published in such a modest and private blog, such as Witchy Magic Circle.

Please, do feel free to investigate Fiddler’s Green Peculiar Parish Magazine at the following link:

https://www.fiddlersgreenzine.com/shop/fiddlers-green-8

Sitting Out

by Levannah Morgan

The Consciousness-Shifting Magic of the Hedge-Rider

“True Thomas sat on Huntly bank, a-spying ferlies with his eye.”
— “Thomas the Rhymer,” traditional Scottish ballad

Sitting out is an ancient practice that dates from the times of Britain’s Saxon and Norse forebears and is frequently mentioned in old accounts of magical practices. It is sometimes called “hedge-sitting” or “hedge-riding.” At its most basic, the practice involves sitting in the landscape and communing with the spirits of that place. It can be used as a form of divination, to assist with operative magic, or for pure spirit contact, asking questions and receiving answers. Like much of the old magic, sitting out is a deceptively simple process, but when done with magical intent and skill, it can produce the most profound results.

Sitting out has been central to my practice as both a witch and an artist for many years. Recently, I have been using it to explore whether it might be possible to shift our perception of the world away from the purely anthropocentric, so that all the other beings who share existence with us—animal, ensouled matter, the discarnate, the world of spirit—can become much more a part of our thinking. To me this is vital because of the damage human-centered thinking is doing to the world.

I would like to encourage you to try sitting out for yourself. Much of what I’ve been taught of the practice I learned from the late Cecil Williamson, founder of the Museum of Witchcraft at Boscastle in Cornwall. I knew Cecil during the last fifteen years of his life, and over the course of this time he imparted to me some valuable magical techniques. Communion with spirits was central to his practice, and he was the most extraordinary spirit worker I have ever met. This guide is based on both Cecil Williamson’s teaching and the knowledge I have gained from my own experiences of sitting out over many years.

*

You can leave all your complex magical equipment or regalia at home. For sitting out, the less encumbered you are, the better. You might want to take your staff or wand if you have such things, but this is not essential. I take a little organic bread, some water, and, for protective reasons I’ll explain below, a fossil sea urchin that is home to a familiar spirit. Wear comfortable, unobtrusive clothing and if, like me, you live in a cold, damp climate, something warm and waterproof, so that discomfort does not distract you. Leave all digital devices and timepieces behind or, if you must take them with you, pack them safely out of your reach.

The practice of sitting out requires plenty of time. Deciding to spend a quick half hour doing it between everyday activities won’t work, because you will be working outside normal time. Sitting out takes as long as it takes. If it works properly, everyday time will cease to operate for you. On one occasion I sat out in Ashclyst Forest in Devon, arriving soon after dawn on a late spring morning. I had no sense of time passing at all, but noticed after I had finished that dusk was falling. I must have been there for more than ten hours.

Choosing the right place for sitting out is crucial. As you look, take the old name “hedge-sitting” as an important clue, because the best places for sitting out are liminal spaces: on the edge, between one place and another. These boundaries might include hedgerows, riverbanks, the edges of woodlands, and the tideline. They are also the kind of places you can walk past without noticing them; almost as if they are not there. I live in the rural South West of England and I have several quiet places I like to go. One is on the margin of an old forest, another beneath a line of big hawthorn trees that must have once been a hedge between two fields, and another a quiet bit of seashore between two beaches. I know witches who practice sitting out in the middle of large cities. It’s difficult to be alone anywhere in this world these days, but while sitting out you will be very quiet and unobtrusive and it is very unlikely that passers-by will take any notice of you.

What’s vital is to find the place that is right for you. Empty your mind and wander until it feels right to stop. If ever a place makes you feel in any way that it does not want you there, move on immediately and find somewhere else. Cecil Williamson would find what he called “pulse spots,” places where he could feel the pulse of the earth. These locations were nothing to do with ley lines, and he would actively avoid working at stone circles and other places that attracted too much attention. He would sometimes find pulse spots by placing the top of his staff to his forehead and the other end on the ground until he could feel the pulse. Try it.

When you get to know a landscape magically, you may notice that the pulse or current of the earth flows differently around the seasons, and that it will be stronger at certain times of the year. In the weeks leading up to Samhain, my place at the edge of the forest has a strong, dark pulse that I know will make for an intense experience; at some other times of the year the pulse there disappears entirely. On the seashore, the pulse rises and falls with the tide and I always try to spend a whole six-hour tide there. Beginning at low tide and ending as the tide peaks will assist with operative magic, while starting at high tide and being there as the tide ebbs away is completely different. Low tide induces a very calm, passive state that is ideal for deep spirit contact. At the height of spring, around May Day, all the places I know are full of a wild, racing pulse which can make sitting out feel like a kind of unruly magical surfing session. If I have a specific purpose in mind, such as a piece of operative magic I want to accomplish or a question which requires an answer, I think about it and offer it up to the spirits before I begin the session. I will not consciously think about it once sitting out has begun.

*

When I’ve found the right place and settled in it, my sitting-out technique is the opposite of most forms of conventional meditation. I want to experience every detail of the place with all of my senses as deeply as possible, so I do not close my eyes and empty my mind. Instead, I try to engage with every aspect of the place as fully as I possibly can.

After putting myself in a calm, focused state, I begin by looking at everything around me as closely as I can. This may take a very long time because I want to observe every blade of grass and every other small thing or creature at close range. Once I have done this I listen to every sound I can hear, then touch everything in range, then smell everything. My eyes will be open throughout this process. The aim is to become part of the place, connected to it at as deep a level as possible. Learning to do this takes patience, and you may need to try several times before it works for you.

When this process of connecting works well, I reach a point where I no longer have a separate conscious mind anymore. I have become part of the earth, part of everything around me. My senses have become the senses of the place. Reaching this state is the true magical secret of sitting out. It is then that spirits may be sensed, heard, and sometimes seen.

Experience of spirit contact varies with each individual. I have received answers to questions, creative inspiration, and help with spells and operative magic. I have met with animal spirits: fox, badger, jackdaw, hare, and toad. Most usually I encounter the spirits of ensouled matter, those of water, rock, and tree, and also of discarnate beings. On rare occasions I have met the spirits of my ancestors. Sometimes just a slight change in the atmosphere announces a spirit presence. One extraordinary day on the shore in Anglesey, I conversed with a young girl from Mesolithic times who was catching fish. I usually hear spirits and speak with them. Sometimes I will feel the touch of an animal spirit. Visual experiences are much rarer for me but, at the edge of the forest, I did once meet with a little man about three feet tall, wearing green and a cap made of leaves. He was right on the periphery of my vision, “out of the corner of my eye,” exactly as in the old tales. He looked into my eyes and was gone in a blink.

The danger of sitting out, as recounted in the tales, is that the sitter will be taken to the world of Faerie, unable to return. This is indeed what happened to Thomas the Rhymer. And so I take my familiar spirit, housed in the fossil urchin, with me. Before I begin, I ask the familiar to protect me and bring me safely home, and this has never failed me. The tales have two important pieces of advice: if you find yourself in the company of faeries do not make promises or bargains, because the consequences will be disastrous for you, and never accept food or drink, because if you do you will be trapped there. The spirit world, and especially Faerie, plays by rules that humans do not fully understand. Being careless or reckless with magic can lead to the practitioner becoming stuck mentally between the everyday and the spirit world. Please take care and heed advice.

A sitting-out session will usually end quite naturally (my sessions are sometimes guided by my familiar), or be cut short by an abrupt change in the weather, such as Devon’s famous rain. As sitting out does not take place in human time, it’s quite usual to find that your session has taken many hours, or even all day. When you have finished, you will find yourself still a bit betwixt and between the worlds of the everyday and the spirits. Drink a little water and eat a little food to return yourself fully to the realm of earth, leaving the rest as an offering to the creatures and spirits of the place. Always thank the spirits and bid them farewell before you leave.

Sometimes I will record details afterwards in a notebook, but never during a session. Often a visionary dream will follow after sitting out. Much of my writing, including this essay, originates in spirit contact during sitting out.

Sitting out is very a simple but deep form of magic. Approached sincerely and with magical intent, it will have profound effects. It has led me towards a better understanding of my place in this world, as well as my relationship with the world of spirit. I hope it will work its wonders for you too.

END.

Levannah Morgan has been actively involved in witchcraft for nearly forty years. She spent her childhood in a remote part of the Welsh-speaking island of Anglesey in North Wales, at a time when folk magic and spirit work were still actively practiced. She has lived in Devon in the South West of England for many years, where she works with a coven of like-minded people. She learnt traditional magic from the late Cecil Williamson and she founded the Friends of the Boscastle Museum of Witchcraft. She regularly speaks at witchcraft and Pagan events, and writes, teaches, and conducts workshops on all aspects of witchcraft. A new revised and illustrated edition of Levannah’s book, A Witch’s Mirror (originally published in 2013) will be published later this year by The Universe Machine, and her next book is nearing completion.

This essay was originally published in Fiddler’s Green Peculiar Parish Magazine.