Knot Magic

by

Tylluan Penry
Knot Magic
©Copyright 2014 Tylluan Penry
ISBN 978-0-9570442-8-9

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Tylluan Penry has asserted her right under the Copyright Designs
and Patents Act of 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval

system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, scanning, recording or otherwise
without the prior written permission of the author and the
publisher.

Cover Design and Illustrations by Tylluan Penry ©

Published by: The Wolfenhowle Press, Redcroft, Nile Road,

Trealaw,Tonypandy,CF40 2 UY

http://thewolfenhowlepress.com

Printed by: Book Printing UK, Remus House, Coltsfoot Drive,

Woodston, Peterborough PE2 9BF
Other Titles by Tylluan Penry :
A Little Book of Inspirations, (Booklet in the Seeking the Green Pathways
series) published by The Wolfenhowle Press 2014
Magical Nature Walks, (Booklet in the Seeking the Green Pathways series)
published by The Wolfenhowle Press 2014
Sacred Shadows - Ice Age Spirituality, published by The Wolfenhowle Press
2013
The Magical World of the Anglo-Saxons, published by The Wolfenhowle
Press 2012
Staying on the Old Track, , published by The Wolfenhowle Press, 2012
Magic on the Breath, published by The Wolfenhowle Press, 2011
The Essential Guide to Psychic Self Defence, published by Capall Bann 2010
The Magical Properties of Plants - and How to Find Them, published by
Capall Bann, 2009
Seeking the Green, published by Capall Bann, 2008
Also ‘Eating With the Dead: Funeral Meal Practices’ in the anthology
Memento Mori (ed. Kim Huggens) Avalonia Books 2012
Pagan-themed fiction for children/young adults, writing as T. P. Penry
(available only as Kindle downloads) all published by The Wolfenhowle
Press:

The Dolly Run

Stalker’s Moon
Silent Night, Deadliest Night
The Dead Sleep Better
 About Tylluan Penry
Tylluan Penry is a solitary pagan witch, independent scholar and the author
of numerous books and magazine articles dealing with many aspects of magic
and folklore.

She has also been a popular and regular speaker at various events including
Witchfest International, The Artemis Gathering, Witchfest England and
Witchfest Wales, together with talks for the Pagan Federation, and at
independent, private events. Her articles have appeared in a variety of
publications including Witchcraft & Wicca, Myddle Earth and The Magickale
Times. She is regularly consulted by the media for advice in accurately
portraying witchcraft and paganism and has been interview on Radio 2.

Tylluan believes very strongly in trying to help other solitaries and those just
beginning on their spiritual paths. To this end she set up The Wolfenhowle
Press in 2011, with the intention of making beautiful, informative and
inspiring books about paganism widely available and affordable.

In 2014, she set up her own YouTube Channel, Tylluan Penry at the
Wolfenhowle Press which you can find here:
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC48MN8sa7_lFsBX9v2ZAeAg/featured

Again, in keeping with the ethos of The Wolfenhowle Press, there is no

advertising on these videos, just sensible advice and information, freely
available to everyone.

Tylluan is married, has a large family, grandchildren, many pets, an

overgrown garden and a gloriously ramshackle house where she lives and
dreams with Mr Penry, her love of many lifetimes, in the South Wales
Rhondda Valley.
 This book is dedicated with love and
fond memories to my Uncle Ken
(Ding Dong) who sailed the Seven
Seas and taught me so much about the
magic of knots

Table of Contents
Chapter One Why Knot? 1
Working with three or more ends 7

Chapter Two
What sort of knots 13
Reef knot 14
Figure-of-Eight knot 17
Celtic Button knot 19
Slip Knots 19

Chapter Three
Intention and Will 23
Two basic exercises for beginners 26
Honing our intention 26
Understanding how Knot Magic works 28
Magical guidelines 29

Chapter Four
A few thoughts on ethics 32
Reversing and undoing spells 33

Chapter Five
Using coloured threads in Knot magic 41
The earth colours 43
Red 45
Blue 50
Yellow 53
Green 54
The curious conundrum of blue, green, water... and amber 58
Purple 60
Brown 62
Grey 63
Black 64
White 66
Other colours and metallics 68
Single colours and multi-colours 69

Chapter Six
Changing colours 72
Keeping spells under control 75

Chapter Seven
The practical framework of Knot Magic 78
To speak or not to speak? 79
Spells and reflective writing 79
Useful utterances 81
The types of cord 84
Knitting the knots (and other methods) 87
The spell is cast... now what? 90
Storing magical supplies 91

Chapter Eight
Nets and netting 93
How many knots in a net? And what types? 94
Why use a net in Knot Magic? 99
Adapting old traditions to modern Knot Magic 103

Chapter Nine
Putting our spell together107
How this works 108
Planning the spell intention 109
Rituals for creating the bark solution, soaking the cords 111
The lighting of the fire ritual 111
The ritual of the first flame 114
Cutting the cords and cleansing the blade 117
Releasing or changing the colour 121
Tying the knots 121

Chapter Ten
Numbers and their significance 123
Chapter Eleven
Placing the knots and choosing our words 133
Choosing our words 134
To cleanse or not to cleanse? 135
Blessing the things we use in a spell 136
Do we need to believe in magic? 137
The colour of the cord 137
The purpose of the knots139

Chapter Twelve
Practising our spell – the trial run 143
Tying the knots – the problem of disassociation 146
Using the breath 150
Tying the knots – when does the spell happen? 150
Spells with beads 151
Using chants in a spell 152

Chapter Thirteen
How to finish the spell 154
Disposing of the knotted cord 154
Disposal of bark and barking solutions 155

Chapter Fourteen
Knot magic and weather 158
Recreating tying up the wind 160

Chapter Fifteen
Knots in healing, protective magic, enchanted cows and Witches’ Ladders
165
Witches’ Ladders 168
Knotted lace 173
Chapter Sixteen
Knotted rags, trees and healing 175

Chapter Seventeen
Knots and love spells, knots and hexing 178
Knots and divination 182
Knots and hexing 183
Creative thinking187

Bibliography 190

Index 198

Note:
This book is about Knot Magic, and not about learning to tie elaborate knots.
If you want to tie a specific knot, then there are plenty of very good knot
books available and many instructional videos on knot-tying on YouTube.

A word about references....

References are placed within the text of this book using the Harvard style of
referencing, i.e. Author, Year, and, where appropriate, page number. This is
much neater and easier than struggling to find endnotes after each chapter. If
you then wish to consult the referenced work for yourself, just go to the
Bibliography at the end of this book and look up the name of the author; you
will find the full details given there.
 Chapter One
Why knot?
It was inevitable I would be fascinated by knots from an early age. Quite
apart from the fact that my uncle (to whom I’ve dedicated this book) was an
old ‘sea-dog’ who kept the neighbourhood children entertained with his
(tall!) tales of tall ships and exotic lands, ropes are in my blood. There have
been rope-makers and boat builders in my family (on my father’s side) going
back for centuries.

Even now, the act of tying knots is enough to catapult me back into my
childhood. There is something quite magical about the act of joining two
lengths of string together and creating something that behaves like a single
piece. Or conversely, taking a single length of string and making it behave as
though it was made up of several lengths.

Strangely enough though, my own talent was not in tying knots, but in
untying them. Whenever anything was knotted in our house – be that string,
wool, ribbon or even a necklace chain – I was always the one who was asked
to ‘take a look’ and try to undo it. And I did. It was very rare indeed for me
to be unable to untie something, no matter how much it resembled a bad
tempered bird’s nest. Knots liked me.

And in a roundabout way this provided me with the first great lesson of Knot
Magic. Never tie – or attempt to tie – something that cannot be undone.
There may always come a time when we need to undo them, even if we don’t
believe this at the time we cast the original spell. And it’s always more
difficult to undo something than to tie it in the first place!

Knowing what we are doing is important not just in magic, but in most things
in life. In fact, many knots are classified not just by the difficulty in tying
them, but also by the difficulty in untying them, since even in the physical
world, we never know when that may be necessary.
Of course, none of this is an excuse for us to tie bad knots. Knot tying is –
like many things – a skill that must be learned. We may not want to undo it,
we may never be tempted to undo it, but the knot itself must always be
capable of being undone – just in case. Because, as with any kind of magic,
we never know what surprises life may have in store.

Unfortunately nowadays, many people tend to regard Knot Magic as rather

childish, a bit beneath them. Yet years ago Knot Magic or ligatura as it was
sometimes known, was considered such a danger that the early Church issued
numerous edicts against it. Prosecutions and even executions of those who
used ligatura continued quite late in our history, right into the eighteenth
century in France and Scotland.

So why was Knot Magic be considered dangerous? Partly because it was so

simple, which is ironic considering that its simplicity is one of the reasons
that makes people view it as childish nowadays. Although some knots
undoubtedly require great skill, almost anyone can tie a simple one in a piece
of string. With practice, we can even tie them with one hand.

Knot Magic was also discreet, powerful and used easily obtainable materials.
And that’s important too. We don’t need to visit special magical supply
stores. A quick trip to the supermarket or local hardware shop can furnish us
with everything we need i.e. a ball of string, although even that’s not
essential since knots can be tied in almost anything from ribbons and rags to
bandages and strands of hair!

Complex or simple, knots are adept at creating illusions and deceiving us.
They can make two pieces of string behave like a single length; they can
appear secure yet come undone with a single tug. Some are so impossible to
undo that all we can do is to cut them with scissors.

In fact ‘cutting the cord’ has become a euphemism for the moment of birth,
when the cord (umbilical, not cotton or hemp!) that joins a mother to her new
baby is cut. Knots can also end life (think of the hangman’s noose) or
preserve it (such as the knots used in climbing, sailing and in surgical
stitches.) They have a curious and stirring language all their own,
‘gammoning the bowsprit’; ‘brailing up a spanker’ or ‘Standing Turk’s eye.’
Most amazing of all, knots can even tie themselves! I’m sure almost anyone
reading this will have come across jewellery chains that were put away neatly
only to be found to have a knot in them! Embroidery threads and sewing
cotton behave in much the same way, and my mother always knotted her
tacking cotton by rubbing it between finger and thumb, i.e. she never actually
tied a knot in it at all although it behaved just like a knot afterwards.

But the idea that yes, knots really can tie themselves came as a surprise to
me, until I read about some research by two biophysicists, Dorian Raymer
and Douglas Smith. These two scientists deliberately tumbled lengths of
rope inside a box and discovered that even quite complex knots will form
surprisingly fast and often, without any human interference whatsoever
(Castelvecchi 2007:398).

Further research in 2006 by Jens Eggers and his colleagues at Bristol

University found that ball chains (the type used with sink plugs) could form
knots when they were individually set on a vibrating dish for an average of
30 seconds.

It’s no wonder therefore that people have been believing that knots are
charged with some inherent and mysterious magical power for thousands of
years and in all corners of the world. After all, ropes and cables must be very
cunning if they can tie knots in themselves! In old Hebrew literature such as
The Old Testament (Deuteronomy 18, ii and Psalm 58), an enchanter was
called ḥ ober ḥ aber, meaning quite literally a man who ties magic knots
(Gandz 1930:192).

In ancient times it was even believed there was a knot up in the night sky.
According to the ancient Greek poet-astronomer Aratus of Soli (c315-240
BCE) α Piscium, a star in the zodiacal sign of Pisces, was ‘a beautiful and
great star, Which is called the Knot of the Heavens’ (de Callata ӱ 1996:1).

Usually, when we tie a knot it is intended to keep something safe or in place,

to stop it moving about freely. Transferring this idea to a magical mindset,
we can see how tying a knot can be used in spells intended to hinder or
prevent the actions of other persons, animals or even things. This is in fact
where our English word ‘spellbound’ comes from – to hold or bind a person
or thing as though by magic. Tying a knot can also bind us to a specific
course of action by tying the person, thing and/or action together.

Conversely, to untie a knot or loosen it will remove or slacken the binding or

obstruction, and therefore free the subject of the knot. This is particularly
useful whenever we want to ensure there is nothing to hinder a particular
event or course of action and may explain why garments and shoes were
often symbolically untied before couples married or women gave birth.

Magically, this operates on the basis of ‘like curing like’, or similia similibus
curantur. This is often referred to as the ‘Just as... so may’ formula, linking a
physical action to a magical intention. For example, ‘Just as I remove the
knots in these shoelaces, so may all obstructions to the birth be undone and
removed.’

This is a very old magical method and keeps within the spirit of the ‘As
above, so below,’ maxim found in old magical text known as ‘The Emerald
Tablet’ of Hermes Trismegistus. There are several different translations of
this text, but in each you will find that point number two is very similar.

However, we must not rush ahead of ourselves here. If we want to perform

spells, we first need to get used to the idea of really thinking for ourselves
about what we’re doing. It is no use just parroting ‘received wisdom’
without questioning it. Indeed when I was young I would end up in all sorts
of trouble because I rarely did as I was told without arguing! If I understood
the reasoning behind what I was being told to do then fair enough, otherwise
I could be (and probably still am) really awkward.

My father summed it up very well when he advised me, ‘You either have to
accept authority from other people, or you have to impose the discipline on
yourself. There’s really no other way. Obedience or self discipline.’ He
knew even before he spoke, that I would accept self discipline over and
above other peoples’ rules any day. It’s just the way I am.

However, my father’s words also taught me another important magical

lesson. If we want to strike out on our own, which is essentially what magic
enables us to do, then we need a strong sense of self discipline and an
enquiring mind. Otherwise all we are doing is following the herd, and since
there is no one-size-fits-all in magic, our work is never going to achieve its
full potential.

It is also important to learn to be agile in our thinking, otherwise we become

confused with apparent contradictions. For example, there has been a
longstanding tradition in many parts of Europe that the bride and groom at a
wedding should not wear anything that requires knots to be tied, such as
shoelaces etc.

However, there is also a tradition of ‘wedding knots,’ a type of wedding

favour that was deliberately attached to clothing and intended to bring good
luck. In the seventeenth century, many brides traditionally sewed knots of
coloured ribbons (known as bride favours or bride lace) onto their dresses
(Monger 1975:53).

Now it can be difficult to make sense of such inconsistency but it is always

worth making an effort. Possibly the wedding knots were intended to
confront the fear of hexing (which was known to use knots) by using knots
that were created only in order to bring good luck. Thus instead of creating
fear, wedding knots were put to good use and made to work for benign
intentions.

And this supports a basic tenet of all magic: it is never good or bad, black or
white as such, but is coloured by the intention behind it. Only the intention
can have – or lack – goodness, not the magic. Magic – of itself – is entirely
neutral.

Knot Magic is very ancient, but since it was so often tied in perishable
material such as wool or even bark, most examples will have perished and
anything that has survived is unlikely to be recognised for what it once was.
However, a host of words connected with knots have not only survived but
have entered and made themselves fully at home within the English language.

For example, the word ‘knot’ derives from the Old English word cnotta,
which in turn may come from an Indo European root gen- meaning ‘to
compress into a ball.’ This does make sense, since knots are generally
rounded and ball shaped (Schwartzman 1996). Related native English words
include knob, knuckle, knoll, knit and knotty.

Knots and knot tying have entered our language and consciousness in other
subtle ways too. For example, a knotty problem is something difficult to
solve (or unravel!). Then there is the spot where a branch joins the main
trunk creates an extra strong, circular body of wood – a knot. We talk about
heartstrings, tying the knot, tying somebody up in knots and when we’re fed
up we might even tell someone to ‘get knotted’!

The act of tying a knot has likewise entered our everyday language. If we are
in difficulties we might claim to be ‘in a bind’. Someone found guilty in
Court may be ‘bound over’ to keep the peace. The binding is not literal, but
the link is clear. A vow to behave has been made, and must be kept.
Originally no doubt, such promises were accompanied by the tying of a knot.
Now all that remains is the promise – and that rather curious turn of phrase to
remind us of its true origins.

Once we start looking we can find many examples of the words to bind and
to loosen in the sense of to prohibit and to allow respectively. For example,
in the Old Testament (Numbers Chapter 20) it states, ‘If a man vow a vow
unto the Lord, or swear an oath to bind his soul with a bond...’ which may not
sound connected with knots, yet a more literal translation of this passage is
‘...to tie a knot against himself’ (Gandz 1930:193).

Best of all though, in my opinion, are the words ‘spellbound’ and ‘spell-
binding.’ If ever we needed proof that magic and knots are bound together
(the pun is intended), then there we have it!

There is also the phrase ‘The bitter end’, usually meaning to stay or work
together long past what most people would think of as reasonable. Yet this
saying actually derives from tying knots, since the bitter end is the end of the
rope that is being tied, sometimes also known as the working end. (The
other end, the one that isn’t being used is called the standing end.)

Even ropes and cords have entered our language with curious persistence.
Knowing the ropes means we know what’s what, and newcomers (in jobs,
groups, situations etc.) often have to learn this. It almost certainly started out
as a seafaring term, where learning to tie the right knot and choose the right
rope for the job was essential.

Ending up on the ropes however was not considered good and is a common
term in boxing, suggesting that the fighter is in trouble. Being at the end of
one’s rope, or the end of one’s tether denotes being utterly exhausted and/or
out of options. The rope is the lifeline, and to come to its end means we can
only fall.

Working with three or more ends

The possibilities of knotting cords together are endless. For example, we can
tie a short piece of cord in the middle of a single longer piece in order to give
the appearance of three pieces being joined together, rather like the effect of a
triskele, which is a shape where three arms, legs or spokes radiate from a
central point.

This shape in various forms is a common theme right across the northern
hemisphere. The three spokes can interlock (as in the Norse valknut) or
appear relatively lifelike, as in some Celtic and Anglo-Saxon art, on Lycian
coins from the Middle East and even in the three legged figure of the Isle of
Man (Brown 1966:124). It may also be the basis for the images of the triple
hare which occurs in many different times and places, from sixth century
China to thirteenth century churches near Dartmoor.
 Sketch of triple hare motif from Wissembourg, France c.1300 CE

Here the three hares are apparently chasing each other, but closer inspection
shows visual trickery, something totally in keeping with what we know of
knots! For example, although hares have two ears, the triple hare motif
shows only three instead of the expected six. These are arranged in a triangle
shape so they leave an empty triangular gap at the centre. Unless the viewer
is unusually observant, the missing ears tend to be overlooked and accepted
as visually correct.

At this point I should mention that people sometimes claim such imagery was
only ever intended for decoration. This is not true particularly when they
occur in churches, where every Green Man, Triple Hare and Triform Face (to
mention just a few) formed part of the ‘iconography of place’. Medieval
churches were built at a time when very few people could read or write, they
had no way to access the scriptures, which were only available in Latin.

Therefore all these the wall paintings, sculptures and carvings provided an
important visual frame of reference for sermons and religious teaching.
Everything that decorated a church building had an important part to play, but
this is easily overlooked nowadays with our increasing reliance on the written
word rather than visual images.

It may be no coincidence that hares rather than any other animal were chosen
for such an image since they were once widely regarded as magical creatures;
one even turns up in the story of Boudicca (Cassius Dio LXII:6). The triple
hare motif turns up all over the world, including the Far East. And of course
the number three appears in all types of magic, including Knot Magic.

Similar visual trickery can also be noticed when we manipulate two cords.
Knotting them together at one end produces something that looks and
behaves like a single cord with two ends. However if we add one cord to the
centre of the other, then we can end up with three or even four ends.

The implication of this in magical terms is that we are moving from the two
dimensional world to the three dimensional. The third (or fourth) end creates
balance, just as the third leg does on a tripod.

So how do we create that ‘third end’? One method is to use a hitched knot
over the original line. For most magical purposes, a simple cow hitch or
lark’s head will do.

Cow hitch knot

Now it must be said that this type of knot is much despised amongst serious
tiers of knots; it isn’t especially strong for heavy loads and can slip easily. So
if we feel that ‘as above, so below’ should apply to the type of knot we use,
then perhaps we should investigate something a little more challenging (but
still doable) such as a clove hitch.

Whatever type of hitch we use however, will almost always result in adding
two extra lines, so these will need to be twisted, bound or even sewn together
afterwards if we need only three cords in total. If we are aiming for all three
lines to look more or less the same, we should use a much thinner cord for the
hitch, so that when it is bound together it will look like the cord over which it
has been tied. If the extra cord is the same width as the cord it crosses then it
will look twice as thick when the two cords are bound together.

This third cord gives us two important possibilities in terms of shape. Firstly
it can be made to resemble the triskele shape by laying it on a flat surface and
curling each end of the three cords. Secondly, if we stretched them out on a
flat surface, then the new shape will be something like a letter T or the Greek
tau:

Now the tau shape is an extremely old symbol. In Ancient Egypt, after Set
had dismembered Osiris and scattered his body, Isis managed to find them all
apart from his penis. Subsequently Horus, the son of Isis and Osiris, is
sometimes shown carrying the tau cross to symbolise his father’s missing
penis.

Both the Egyptians and Persians used the tau symbol on their banners, as did
Moses and although early Christians often regarded it as a Jewish symbol of
creation and regeneration, later they would adopt it for themselves. In the
Norse tradition, a shape resembling the tau cross can also be seen in Thor’s
hammer, Mjolnir. And in surprising echoes of Ancient Egypt, sometimes this
form features the handle shaped like a penis, hence the tau’s association with
masculinity (Healey 1977:289). These associations would make the three
ended cord very useful in spells associated with any particularly male
problems, or indeed with any specific male.

Because of the way the third end acts as a balance, the three ended cord
opens up all sorts of magical possibilities of working with Other Worlds. It
allows us not only to work here and now in the present, but also to project up
to the sky or down into the earth if we wish.

Another interesting observation about the tau is that if we add a loop to the
top it becomes the ankh, giving us yet another link with ancient Egypt. One
theory is that the loop represents the rising sun while the crossbar represents
the earth and the straight vertical part represents the path the sun takes as it
rises up to become visible above the horizon. Yet another example of
crossing between worlds.
 The Ankh

Of course, such crossings do not always involve a vertical line. If we placed

our emphasis instead on a horizontal crossing then this could symbolise
working with triform or triple faced gods or entities. The trivium was a Latin
word for crossroad, literally a place where three roads met. This was always
regarded as a magical and sometimes even uncanny place. Of course,
crossroads may vary in appearance. A ‘Y’ shaped fork in the road is still a
place where three roads meet, and we could even make a case for a T junction
fulfilling the same function.

In the past – and perhaps even now - people would visit crossroads in order to
perform all sorts of magical rites. For example, in the late tenth/early eleventh
century, pagans sometimes tied knots in bandages in order to heal their own
livestock (or hex those belonging to someone else), before throwing the rags
into the centre of a crossroads or hiding them in trees (McNeil 1933:
paragraph 54). Although the early Christian Church did its best to discourage
and prohibit such practices, they still continued for centuries.

Nowadays however, the problem is not so much avoiding Church disapproval

as finding a crossroad that is reasonably quiet. Unless we have access to a
country lane, a knot spell using an extra cord in order to produce a third
working end could be a useful alternative, and we would simply need to
visualise our cord as a crossroad.

Magic is nothing if not inventive!

 Chapter Two
What Sort of Knots?
Nowadays, unless we happen to be a keen sailor or perhaps a Boy Scout or
Girl Guide, our repertoire of knots is probably limited. However, Knot
Magic is not just about the type of knots we tie but how we link it with our
intention. We can become proficient at magical knots using just one or two,
although it does help to understand a little about the process of knot tying
generally.

I suspect that years ago people were rather better at tying knots than we are
now, simply because there were fewer alternatives. Until the coming of
Velcro, elastic, press studs and zippers, etc., people relied on lacings and
knots every day, just in order to dress themselves. Even a century ago,
corsets, boots and gloves all required careful lacing and a final knot that
would both hold firmly and be easy to release when required.

Of course there was more to knots than keeping our ancestors properly
dressed. Knots were – and still are – an essential aspect of seamanship,
especially during the days of sailing ships. In the Middle Ages, all the
scaffolding used to build the highest castles and cathedrals in Europe had to
be tied together. Knots quite literally held people’s lives in their hands.
Where safety is concerned, tying the right knot in the right way can be a
matter of life and death.

Tying strong, safe knots requires us to understand which ones to choose. We

need to know about their strengths and weaknesses, and what they should –
and should not – be used for. Whether we are tying knots for practical or
magical purposes, this knowledge matters, since what applies in the practical
world also applies in the magical one.

Many people, when asked to tie a strong knot to join two pieces of rope or
string together, simply tie a series of endless ‘granny’ knots one after
another. This may look impressive, and will certainly be hellish to try and
undo, but from a safety point of view it is downright dangerous because in
can – and often does – slip.

So from a magical point of view, a knot that cannot be undone but will easily
slip is not a good idea unless the spell intention needs these properties.
Therefore if a granny knot is easy to tie but difficult to undo, this would make
it a good choice only for a spell where there is little chance we will want to
reverse it later.

However do please think hard about this because I have seen so many people
cast spells in haste or anger and then regret them afterwards. Never, ever,
perform magic when in a rage, or brooding about a situation. We need a very
clear head and a sense of calm, even serenity, in order to focus our intention
properly on what we are doing and the reasoning behind the spell. And if that
means we have to wait a little – hours, days or even weeks - then so be it.

Reef Knot
Reef knots are often used for joining two pieces of cord together. So, using
the premise of ‘as above so below’ (which, as I’ve already mentioned comes
from an old text known as the Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus), a
reef or granny knot could therefore be used to bring two situations – or
people – together.

Unlike a granny knot however, a reef knot is difficult to tie properly, and
badly tied versions are known as the ‘thief knot’ or ‘grief knot’ which really
says it all from a safety point of view. Although our magical knot may never
be required to hold a physically heavy load, if it is physically unreliable then
bear that in mind, because it may have the potential to ‘slip’ magically too.

Most people – even those who cannot tell a sheep shank from a Turk’s Head
knot - have usually heard of a reef knot, even if they’re not confident about
tying it. It has other names too, including the Hercules and square knot.
Whatever name we give it, the knot itself is extremely old. There is an
example in the Louvre on a fragment of carving from ancient Egypt dating
from the Sixth Dynasty, i.e. around 2200 BCE (Mariette 1889:240).

The Roman author, Pliny the Elder (Natural History book 38.17) claimed that
wounds healed more quickly if they were bound up with a Hercules or reef
knot. Roman brides used the same knot to tie their girdles, which their
husbands had to undo on their wedding night (hence the phrase ‘tying the
knot’ to denote marriage.)

A reef knot is basically formed by tying a left-handed overhand knot and then
a right handed one, and on paper at least, sounds fairly straight forward. In
practice however, most people end up tying a much less stable version such
as a granny knot. I always have to make a great effort to remind myself what
I’m doing when I tie a reef knot otherwise it ends up a mess.

Some people will mutter, ‘Right over left, Left over right, Makes a knot both
tidy and tight’ while they’re tying it, just to remind themselves. (And yes, in
the early days I would recite that rhyme and yet still ended up with a rubbish
knot!)

So unless we manage to ensure that both the working ends come out either at
the top or bottom, we end up with something called a ‘thief knot’ which is
just as unwelcome and unreliable as its name suggests. Yet although more
reliable than a granny or thief knot, even a properly tied reef knot is not
particularly stable. Many a person has, alas, lost their lives due to misplaced
trust in this knot!

A reef or ‘square knot’ is also popular in macramé especially when tied over
a couple of filler cords. (A sequence of these knots is then called a sennit).
If we tie alternately, from right to left and then left to right, and so on, we end
up with a straight, flat band, suitable for bracelets etc. There is plenty of
information for this type of work available on the internet and in library
books.
 A square knot tied over filler cord

However, if we keep tying always from the same side then the band twists
into a spiral or half sennit. Depending on which side we keep tying from, the
piece will twist clockwise (if tied from the left) or anti-clockwise (if tied from
the right).

A half sennit

Quite apart from the aesthetic qualities of such knots, we can also make good
use of their magical properties, since certain intentions seem to be
traditionally associated with turning in certain directions. For example, in
order to acquire knowledge of magic, one had to turn three times anti-
clockwise while walking down to the sea shore and carrying seven stones
(Wood-Martin 1902:59). Nowadays, this could easily be adapted so that we
tie seven half sennit knots that turn anti-clockwise instead.

Because this type of knotting is visually appealing, especially if we use

coloured threads, it also lends itself well to being incorporated into a type of
jewellery, especially if tied in a metallic type of cord. This type of knot work
makes it ideal for protective and healing spells.

It is also quite easy to add beads by first threading them onto the filler cords
and then tying the knots around them using the outer, ‘working’ cords. Most
macramé books and many websites give clear instructions for this.

The advantage of adding beads, as we’ve already noted, is that they can
symbolise a whole range of subjects and themes that would not be so easy if
we only use cords. Yes, we can visualise just about anything and everything,
but I know many people find this difficult especially when they are just
starting out. A bead that can be engraved or painted with a symbol or initial
can be a useful extra addition to our magic.

The biggest drawback – in my view – about many instructions for this type of
macramé knotting is that we are instructed to start it off by tying it over a
piece of dowelling, using two cow hitches or lark’s heads side by side.

Since I have never had any desire to try and find a magical reason for
incorporating dowel rods into my Knot Magic, I instead prefer tying a simple
overhand knot, using all the threads together. This leaves a small but useful
loop at the top, which can be weighed down (kitchen weights or a tin of
baked beans will do) or even looped over something (door handles are good
provided nobody needs to go in or out while we’re working) to keep it
steady. The securing knot doesn’t count in the eventual number of sennits we
tie, however.

The Figure-of-Eight Knot

Sometimes the shape of a knot gives us a clue about its magical application.
The figure-of-eight knot (also known as the figure eight knot, the Savoy knot,
the Flemish knot or the double stopper) looks just like a figure-of-eight tied
in a single piece of cord. Its main purpose is to prevent a rope from running
out of a retaining device, and because of this it’s always been popular in
climbing and sailing. It also has the advantage of being reasonably easy to
undo again.
Now if we look at the shape, the figure-of-eight – what does that tell us?
What can we use it for? Well, because – in its normal, everyday use – the
purpose of the figure-of-eight knot is to prevent things slipping off the end of
the cord, it is perfect for magic intended to help us focus, remain grounded
and even for keeping relationships, jobs and knowledge where they need to
be.

The figure-of-eight could therefore be a good knot to use when we are trying
to hang onto something or keep it in place. So it can be used for keeping
things or people safe, for helping us revise (in the sense that it can stop what
we have already learned from slipping away) and also to help us hang onto
things (such as staving off forced redundancies).

Fortunately this is not a particularly difficult knot to master and there are
plenty of instruction videos online to help us. It could make quite an
effective piece of jewellery if it were tied in a thick, metallic cord either to be
worn around the neck or even – in a smaller version – pinned to our clothing
as a pin or brooch. When tying knots, it always helps to be imaginative in
our approach. There is no reason why we should not wear magical knots as a
type of jewellery if we want to.

Of course, the use of the figure-of-eight shape for ‘stopping’ things has not
been confined to knotted cords. Occasionally it has been made into pottery
and even glass bottles. Near Hove in Sussex, one of these figure-of-eight
bottles, silvered inside (like a mirror) was used to trap a ‘witch’ in the
nineteenth century, and was then sealed up with a cork and brown wax.

This actually is a form of ghost-laying, where the ghost or spirit (or, in the
Arabian Nights stories, a genie) was contained in a bottle (or lamp.) They are
found in many cultures, and in the UK seem to have been especially popular
in Montgomeryshire, Shropshire and Staffordshire (Ettlinger 1943:231).
The Celtic Button Knot
This is more decorative than the figure-of-eight knot, and will take some
practice, but again it serves much the same function, as a ‘stopper’. As it is
more complex to tie than the figure-of-eight, it is probably easiest to learn to
tie it from YouTube tutorials.

Slip Knots
Perhaps the unlikeliest of knots used in Knot Magic, a slip knot does have the
great advantage that it can be undone almost at once, with a single tug on one
end. It was apparently very popular amongst the Lapp peoples, who regarded
it as lucky, especially if nine slip knots were tied on a single string and then
worn around the neck.

Nowadays most of us probably would not view a knot that came undone as
lucky. Yet it all depends on the context. A knot that is quickly undone might
easily release good luck or blessings etc., on the wearer.

And this is one of the great things about Knot Magic. It is – like the cords
and threads we use – endlessly flexible. But first we have to get to know it,
and that means tying knots whenever and wherever we can. We have to learn
to enjoy tying bows, make a point of tying parcels with string, of tying
shoelaces, and yes, slip knots too, and whatever else we can think of.

With any type of magic it is always important to look for the bigger picture.
Yes, we could spend our entire lives tying the same knot in the same type of
thread or cord and, provided our intention is focussed, we will probably do
very well. However, if we widen our scope, and consider things such as the
sort of material we use, e.g., natural strings such as jute or even cotton, or
manmade threads and ropes, we are able to draw upon their natural properties
to help us.

But remember: This works only if the imagery has meaning for us.

In other words, no matter what anyone else tells us, we must personally put in
the work to ensure that the symbolism of such natural properties will work
for us. Nobody else can do that work for us.

In all magical work it is our will and intention that determine whether or not
our spell is successful (and I explain this more fully in Chapter Three). There
are no innately magical knots – i.e. knots that contain magic in their own
right by virtue of the way they are tied - although some will visually
represent our intention better than others.

So please don’t get too carried away with the niceties of knot tying.
Remember: we really do not need to be master knot-tiers in order to get the
most out of Knot Magic. Otherwise Boy Scouts, Girl Guides and sailors
would be the most powerful magicians on the face of the earth!

Also, never worry that Knot Magic will be dull and repetitive. Done well it is
endlessly fascinating, colourful and challenging, not just in our choice of
knots, but in the colours, thickness and number of threads we use. We can
even work in extras such as beads – which themselves represent a very
stylised knot.

And of course many types of craft work, from knitting and crochet to netting,
lace-making and macramé are all – in essence - types of knots. Even
embroidery uses stitches such as French Knots to add texture and interest.
 The French Knot.

Many people who claim to practice magic (and not just Knot Magic) often
overlook the importance of preparation in their work. For example, the
choice of thread, the time taken to source a particular thread or bead, or to
learn a specific knot or engrave symbols onto a bead are all part of the work
and shouldn’t be left until the last minute.

Although there will always be times when we have to improvise (in an

emergency, for example), disorganised magic is usually best avoided. When
people stand around wondering what part they have to play in a ritual or
spell, or worrying what to do next, then there is something amiss. I have
always been a great fan of the saying, ‘Know what you are about.’ This is
particularly important for solitaries, who have nobody else to ask or fall back
on when the going gets tough. Good magic normally has a wonderfully
smooth, almost silken feel to it.

And once we become more skilled, so the process becomes even smoother.
Once we have learned to tie a new knot it becomes part of our repertoire. If
we don’t use it often then yes, we might need to refresh our memory from
time to time, but otherwise the more we use it, the easier it becomes.

Obviously we should never concentrate on the intricacies of tying beautiful

and elaborate knots at the expense of the rest of our spell. When our
intention is not properly focused, our magic will either not work at all, or will
work in ways we never intended. If we need an intricate knot, then we have
to take the time to learn how to tie it competently beforehand. It is never a
good idea to try and cast a spell with a piece of string in one hand and the
instruction book in the other!
 Chapter Three
Intention and Will...
These two words, often bandied about but rarely explained properly, often
cause beginners to freeze and/or panic. This is a pity because they are a vital
part of any magical work, and it is well worth taking the time to understand
them. So here goes...

Firstly, there is intention. All this means is, ‘That which we want to
achieve.’ The purpose of our spell. For example, a love spell has the
intention of promoting, gaining or keeping love, while a healing spell has the
intention of bringing or restoring good health. We could just as easily say
‘purpose’ and have done with it but for some reason people don’t do that,
they use the word ‘intention’ instead.

It should go without saying that knowing exactly what we want to achieve –

our intention – is very important. However there are still people who cast
spells without any real idea what their intention is. So, rather than embark on
a spell that is going to end up as little more than magical porridge, we need to
work things out in our minds. We must ensure our intention is clear and
unambiguous. After all, if we don’t know what we want, how can we expect
our magic to work? It can’t.

So, before casting a spell it makes sense to pause and clear our minds a bit.
To decide exactly what it is that we want before casting anything. And
always remember:

We should never – ever – cast a spell until we’re absolutely certain what we
want it to do.

One of the most important lessons we can learn at this stage is not to confuse
‘I want...’ with ‘I don’t want.’ This may sound obvious but sometimes we
are so worried about the negative side of our problems that we are in fact
asking the universe to bring about the very thing we don’t want! So we
should concentrate always on an intention we want to bring about and not one
we want to prevent.

The second essential ingredient in magic is our will. This is another one of
those words that everyone thinks they understand but few really do.
Magically speaking, our will is the inner strength and conviction that
underpins our intention and makes the spell work. Unless our will is properly
focussed, our magic can end up being little more than poetry (or macramé in
the case of Knot Magic!)

Having a strong will is often confused with being stubborn or bossy. This is
untrue. A strong will can help us achieve great things, even in the face of
difficulty, but it has to be flexible. A will that is inflexible (the so-called
‘iron’ will) may seem strong, but like iron itself, has a tendency to be brittle
and shatters when struck by something hard.

The truly strong will must be flexible enough not only to bend but also to
make adjustments when necessary instead of breaking into pieces. Nowadays
– and perhaps it was always so, I don’t know – inner strength is usually
overlooked. Our society, which worships only the flashy, the noisy and
superficial, often mistakes inner strength for weakness. In fact it is quite the
other way round. Inner strength is far stronger than the more obvious muscles
and stubbornness.

It is important, too, to remember that ‘will’ is not the effort of a few

moments. It is the work of a lifetime. It is a character trait that manifests
itself in determination tempered by self knowledge, honesty and above all,
compassion.

Luckily, it is a skill that can be learned, but it does take time and effort.
Many who claim to be the possessors of an amazing will are in fact nothing
of the sort, and we should always beware those who pretend that harshness
and will are one and the same. They are not. Will without compassion
usually transforms into magical brutality.

So, how do we develop our will? Firstly by looking within as honestly as we

know how. There we must try to pinpoint and understand our inner strengths
and weaknesses. Where do they come from? How do we use/abuse them in
everyday life? Do we need to change this?

Unfortunately many people fear this type of work, believing (wrongly) that
admitting how and why they are sometimes weak will lead to an even greater
loss of will and strength. This is nonsense. By understanding our weaknesses
– how, when and why they happen – we can learn to correct and then turn
them into strengths. However, it can be a stressful, difficult and sometimes
painful road to travel.

We should always remember that nobody is weak in every aspect of their

life. Even if we suffer from a combination of physical, emotional and/or
mental weakness, we will have some strength, no matter how inconsequential
it may seem to be. Some people have to cope with dreadful illness or
disability, and their great strength is in doing so day after day. Others cope
with caring for relatives, often without any thanks, and doing without things
that others would take for granted. That too, is real strength.

Never mind that others may think us weak. We just need to dig down – as
deep as needs be – until we find some small kernel of strength within us.
Then we nurture it, care for it, show it appreciation, until it begins to grow.
Finally we realise how that tiny nugget of strength is starting to permeate our
life and gradually strengthening other aspects of our character.

One of the most common problems people have with their will is in getting it
to focus properly. This is can affect both groups and solitaries. In fact, I
suspect that in a group there is less incentive to fix the problem, since people
tend to rely on those around them to make up their own shortfall in focus.

This is a mistake since each and every one of us has to take responsibility for
our own will. Relying on others because we simply cannot be bothered is
laziness, and in the long term will weaken and distort the group dynamic.
Indeed, if enough people take this approach, the group will eventually fall
apart and dissolve.

Although focusing our will requires concentration, this can only work if we
first clear away the emotional baggage that each one of us carries within.
Make sure to get rid of the inner voices that tell us nothing can be done,
chipping away at our self confidence (I often call these our Inner
Tormentors). This is not a one-off exercise either. Every so often we can all
benefit from spring cleaning our heads! If we have a lot of mundane things to
do - such as household chores - before casting a spell, try and get as many as
possible out of the way first.

Sometimes, despite our best efforts, our magic seems to grind to a halt. It
becomes difficult, unreliable, and we start looking for excuses not to do it.
The best solution then is to pause and retrace our steps until we find a point
where we do feel comfortable, even if it’s very basic stuff. Then we start
working (and learning) all over again.

Of course some people do not like the idea of going backwards, mistakenly
regarding it as sign of failure or weakness. But really there is nothing wrong
with it, and it’s better than becoming so disheartened that we give up
completely. By going back to a comfortable base, we can recover our
confidence in casting spells, while at the same time continuing with our
magical studies and gradually improving.

So I hope you can see that by cultivating and strengthening our will, we are
giving our spells the very best chance for success. This is far more important
than worrying what colours to use, or whether we tie a knot clockwise or
anti-clockwise. Will and intention are everything in all types of magic. The
rest comes later.

Two basic exercises for beginners

The following exercises are useful when we are starting out, although they
can also provide a useful refresher for the more experienced, especially if we
have reached a stage where our magic is becoming a little stale. The purpose
of this first exercise is to remind us that intention is central to each and every
spell.

Honing our intentions

Exercise 1
When we’re starting out it can be helpful to come up with a few basic
intentions that we’re likely to need more than others. Most people’s lives
focus on a few recurring themes that keep on cropping up over the years. For
example, we might need to resolve family or relationship tensions, secure a
good education for ourselves or for others, or find a good and rewarding
career.

Obviously everyone will have different priorities, so it’s a good idea at this
point to write down what we want to have happen in our lives. Sooner or
later these will become our spell intentions of the future. Remember though,
that we are not writing an essay, and should just aim for a few lines per
intention and no more.

At this stage, we don’t have to actually cast the spell – this is simply an
exercise in sharpening the definition of our intentions. We must make
ourselves very clear, as though we’re explaining our spell to someone else.
It’s important not to take this stage for granted, which means explaining
everything we want honestly – even to ourselves!

For example, if we want good weather for an important event then we should
say so. We shouldn’t go harping on about balance just because we feel that’s
what we ought to be asking for, otherwise there is always a good chance the
cosmos will grant this to the letter and we’ll get wind and rain along with the
sunshine.

I know many people feel uncomfortable with the whole idea of ‘self interest’
in magic but to be honest much of our lives is driven by this very subject
anyway and we hardly even notice it. For instance, we would not normally
go into a shop and deliberately choose a damaged piece of clothing at full
price, would we?

Yet when it comes to magic we tend to do just that. We feel – for whatever
reason – that it’s somehow wrong to ask for what we really want. And then
we’re surprised when the spell either doesn’t work at all, or if it does, that we
don’t like the result.

So - there is nothing wrong with a little self interest in our magic. It only
becomes a problem when it totally rules our lives, and we are prepared to do
anything in order to get our own way. Returning to the exercise, once we’ve
written down our intention, we need to go back, re-read and whittle it down
to a single line without losing any of the essential meaning of the intention.

Finally – and this may take several attempts, so please don’t panic – try to
further reduce the single line down to no more than three words. It’s not
really difficult as exercises go, and it will become easier with practice. These
words don’t have to form a sentence or connect with each other. Sometimes
they work best as a springboard or mind map to stimulate our magical
thinking.

The purpose of this exercise is to enable us to express our intentions

accurately and concisely. There is always the temptation to go in for flowery
language in our spells, but if we cut things right back to the magical bone,
we’ll find everything becomes much clearer in our minds. And once our
minds are clear, they can focus better.

This skill of honing our intention is essential in all types of magic, from the
high and ceremonial type of ritual through to folk magic. Of course, there is
such a thing as beginner’s luck, but I wouldn’t recommend relying on this to
achieve the desired result every time!

And yes, no matter how hard we try, there will always be times when we
don’t get it right. However, with practice we will eventually learn to cast
spells efficiently and accurately. And that, after all, is what a good spell-
caster should do.

One word of warning however – please don’t be tempted to do this exercise

the other way around, or omit the initial work of describing what you want in
a few lines. Do not look for the three words first – they come at the end, as a
result of the previous groundwork of thinking about our intention.

We never cheat magic, only ourselves.

Understanding how Knot Magic works.

Knot Magic works by using knots to ‘tie’ or fix the intention into the spell.
And because it’s very visual and tactile, it’s an excellent method if we work
alone because the physical action of tying the knot helps keep us focussed.
All the robes, athames and ceremonial swords in the world cannot
compensate for a magician whose mind keeps wandering while he or she
works!

Exercise 2
It is important to learn how to tie a knot while concentrating on an intention,
magical or otherwise. Concentrating while tying shoelaces, a tie or even a
bow on a parcel can all serve as useful exercises for developing this skill. So
instead of simply tying things unthinkingly, take a moment to tie them while
saying to yourself why you are tying them.

For example, ‘I am tying this bow to make Jane’s birthday present look
pretty,’ or ‘I am tying my shoelaces so that I don’t trip over when I walk.’
This isn’t magical of course, but it is mindful. And in Knot Magic we will
need that mindfulness as we tie each knot.

As we become better at tying everyday knots while being mindful, we may

also discover where our own talents lie in this particular type of magic. For
example, those who have spent years in the Boy Scouts or Girl Guides, may
be able to tie knots that visually display their magical intentions. They may
understand the physical properties of each and every knot and have quite an
extensive repertoire at their disposal.

Someone whose knot tying skills are more limited however, will need to
focus more on the magical intention, perhaps doing some mental and magical
gymnastics in order to make the knot fit the intention. Either method will
work, provided we can muster the appropriate will, intention, focus, and
concentration.

Magical Guidelines
Within magic – no matter what tradition we use - there is no single set of
rules. We could close this book now and carry on doing Knot Magic in our
own way, and, provided we understood what we were doing and why, we
would probably still get good results.

However, although it’s fine to work instinctively, we will achieve better and
more consistent results if we can understand why we do what we do, and
what is essential in order for it to work. If our spells keep missing their mark
it can be very discouraging so we should aim to minimise this risk whenever
possible.

I am often asked how we can decide whether a spell is necessary or not. Of

course there will always be times when, having thought things over, we
decide that maybe this time we won’t cast a spell after all. And this is not
failure, just common sense. Sometimes magic is not the answer!

However, for some people there is never a right time to cast a spell. These
are procrastinators, and over the years I’ve become convinced that many
would prefer never to cast a spell at all. They are frightened to do anything,
and conversely they also fear not doing anything. Instead they endlessly
theorise about magic, the appropriate moon phases and correspondences, etc.,
but they never actually do anything about it. This wouldn’t matter so much if
they confined their opinions to themselves, but unfortunately they often set
out to convince others that casting spells is to be avoided whenever possible.

In my own magical work, the solution has been to find some sort of guideline
for magical working. My favourite is the saying, ‘As above, so below,’
which I have already discussed earlier in this book. Although the Emerald
Tablet cannot be proved to be as ancient as its name suggests, that particular
statement (it’s number two in the text) is extremely sensible, i.e. that which
happens in the real, everyday world is reflected above, or in other worlds
(including magical ones). Conversely, that which happens in other worlds is
reflected here, in our daily lives. A sobering thought indeed.

For example, if we cast a spell and someone gets hurt, that’s just as much our
responsibility as if we had gone up and punched them on the nose. We
cannot simply shrug off responsibility by claiming that ‘Oh, that’s just
magic,’ as though somehow the magical and physical worlds are completely
divorced from each other. They’re not. Like it or not, our spiritual and
everyday lives must – and always do - reflect each other to some extent. So
bear it in mind... As above, so below.

It should also go without saying that we should always check the facts of a
situation before casting our spell. This applies especially if we are asked to
perform a spell for somebody else. In my experience friends, relatives and
acquaintances can be extremely economical with the truth when they ask for
such favours.

And of course, it’s no good casting first and asking questions afterwards.
Even if we have to wait in order to get the information we need, it’s better to
delay than rushing off and casting a spell that later might require modifying
or worse, undoing.

If we do have to work a spell immediately, without having been able to check

the facts for ourselves, then the best thing is to perform a ‘holding’ spell.
This is intended only to temporarily deter, causing the person at the centre of
the spell to hesitate, or to stall the situation briefly. We can do that by tying a
single knot, while noting our intention to return to the spell again later. We
can even tie the knot a little slacker than usual, making it easier to undo if we
have to.

This is not an ideal situation of course, but sometimes this sort of holding
spell is going to be the best we can do in the circumstances. We should
always make sure however that we come back to it and finish it appropriately
afterwards. A permanently unfinished holding spell does nobody any
favours!

Now, for the sake of argument, let us suppose we have made up our minds to
cast a spell using Knot Magic. What exactly are we going to use? And how
are we going to do it?
 Chapter Four
A few thoughts on Ethics

Once we’ve made up our mind to cast a spell using Knot Magic, and worked
out precisely what our intention is, we are faced with a series of choices. The
first and most obvious is finding suitable cord for tying the knots. String,
twine and rope are all very popular, although in the past people have used
twigs, ribbons, rags and even strips of bark.

For example, a Babylonian tablet (No. IX) in the British Museum for a
healing spell suggests tying knots in plaited cedar bark:

Take cedar... and Plait a triple cord ... and Tie twice seven knots and
Perform the Incantation of Eridu and Bind the head of the sick man, That the
evil Spirit, the evil Demon, may stand aside, And a kindly Spirit, a kindly
Genius be present. (Thompson and Lyall, 1904:85)

Tying knots in twigs and strips of bark is not really so strange when we
remember that the place where a twig or branch joins the main trunk
produces a ‘knot’ in the wood. However, unlike knots in string, those
growing in wood are permanently fixed and can never be removed. The idea
of using knots that do not actually require tying is an interesting option and in
the past, knots in wood were often considered magical.

At one time there was a popular tradition of carrying an elder stick with three,
five or seven knots upon it in order to prevent rheumatism (Latham
1878:39). Presumably it must have been quite short in order to carry it
comfortably in a pocket or perhaps tucked into one’s belt. As with the
Babylonian example above, we see the importance of magical numbers, three
and seven being common to both spells. Putting an elder stick in one’s pocket
is rather like carrying the right fore-foot of a hare – another old tradition,
again to prevent rheumatism.
The elder stick tradition, with its implication that a type of Knot Magic can
be performed without physically tying any knot opens up a whole realm of
imaginative possibilities from woodwork to textile printing, Celtic knot
patterns, tattoos etc. These could all incorporate Knot Magic if wished.
Indeed, many of the suggestions that follow in this book could easily be
adapted for working with these two and three dimensional knots that we
never physically tie.

The only proviso I would make about using this type of ‘ready-made’ knot is
that because they are in effect, permanent, they should only ever be used for
intentions we will never, ever want to reverse.

Reversing and undoing spells

Before casting a spell, we do need to look briefly at this vexed question of
performing a spell that can never be undone. If we have reached the stage
where we feel a spell is necessary, then we almost certainly feel it is going to
be permanent at least at the time of casting. Unfortunately, life being what it
is, sometimes a situation will change, and we later feel that the spell needs
modifying, or even reversing.

Normally I don’t recommend reversing spells since there is too much

opportunity for error and often we just end up with a bigger mess than we
started with. If we suspect a spell might need reversing or modifying at some
point then it’s better either to leave well alone and not cast, or to cast a spell
that just covers part of the problem, the part we are certain is irreversible.

However, I do accept that sometimes reversals can be necessary due to

unforeseen changes in circumstances. This is why I always recommend
keeping precise notes of any spells we cast. If it becomes essential to undo
the spell at a later date, then at least we know exactly what was done in the
first place in order to reverse or undo it. Remember though that even with
the best kept notes in the world, we may still have forgotten some small but
important detail.

Of course, the best remedy is never to cast a spell unless we are certain we
wish it to be permanent. That means never casting in anger, rage and
certainly not while under the influence of alcohol or drugs. Although anger
can fuel a spell very effectively, the best magic is always performed with a
clear head. Magical regrets make for very uncomfortable bedfellows.

We should also try to avoid casting spells too soon after the event that
prompts them. This is one of the problems with hexing: the spells are often
(though not always) cast at moments of great emotional stress or anger soon
after the affront was given. When we cool down a bit, we realise that perhaps
we overreacted or at least, that a more well- thought out and temperate
response was needed.

So instead we should try proceeding with a little caution in our spells.

Recognise, right from the outset that we need to take time and think about
what we really want to do, the pros and cons, the whys and wherefores and
all the other clichés we can think of! In my experience, once we do this, our
spells often end up being quite different from what we originally envisaged
and all the better for it.

I don’t mean we should agonise for days and days about spell casting - far
from it - but we should have a structure of thought in which to work. And
this is all part of the preparation for the spell work. For example, a general
framework or checklist might look something like the following:

1. Is there anything practical (i.e. not magical) that I can do about this
situation?
This should always be our first step. Unpleasant situations often arise
because of a breakdown in basic communications. Sometimes all that is
necessary to resolve things is for people to start talking to each other again.
A phone call or email may work better than magic – at least as a first stage
towards resolving things. Often magic is not necessary because there are
other, practical things we can do.

Also it is common sense that some spells will never work unless we help
them along. A spell to help us get a job is unlikely to have much effect
unless we actually create our CV, fill in application forms and attend
interviews. Magical effort should always be underpinned by physical, mental
or emotional work wherever possible.
The idea that magic still needs a bit of a helping hand from us is sometimes
frowned upon, with some people still insisting that magic must stand or fall
alone without any human help. This smacks of what I call a hair shirt
philosophy, where everything must be made as difficult as possible in the
belief that this is somehow better for us.

In my opinion this is nonsense. There is no virtue in making our lives –

magical or practical – more difficult than necessary. In fact, doing so only
drains our energy, purpose and focus. Instead I believe we owe it to ourselves
to do everything possible to try and help our magic along. Think of it as
opening doors so that the magic can pass through.

2. What exactly am I hoping to achieve?

Here we return to our old friend, Intention. Clarity of intention is essential in
all types of magic. We have to focus on our primary intention and then hang
on as though it’s a lifebelt, at least until we’ve finished casting our spell. It is
all too easy to lose sight of our basic magical intention, especially when our
emotions are involved.

So, before casting any spell, we should take a deep breath, step back and try
to see things objectively. It’s not just about how a situation seems to us, it’s
about seeing the whole, the reality. Otherwise it’s a bit like trying to play
cricket while wearing a blindfold.

Casting a spell while in a foggy state of mind will only result in a mess even
if our intentions are good. For example, we may be angry because a friend’s
partner is abusing her. Our first reaction is to create a spell to punish him.

However, on reflection, we might decide it’s more important to act

practically to help our friend and get her out of harm’s way. So we might
decide to cast a spell to keep her safe, and prevent her partner from finding
her. That would require a spell for concealment rather than punishment.

In situations such as this, where the focus of the spell shifts (and it’s
surprisingly common) we need a very clear intention. Otherwise the residual
anger could make us end up performing a spell that punishes our friend and
conceals her abuser!
3. Are there any unforeseen consequences to my intended spell?
We would all like to be able to answer ‘No’ to this question every single
time. Unfortunately there are always occasions when we encounter
unexpected consequences. Some are trivial, others more serious. The best
way to avoid them is by thinking things through before casting.

For me, the best solution is to think of it as a maze type of puzzle where we
have to work our way from the outside to the centre. When I was still quite
young I realised it was much easier to start from the inside and then work my
way outwards. And in a way this is what we do in magic – start with the
central problem and work towards a solution.

Exercise:
You have a problem you want to solve using magic. Draw a circle about 5
cm in diameter on a piece of paper, and write your problem in the centre of
the circle. Now draw a series of much small circles as far from the central
circle as you can. It should look a bit like a planet surrounded by its moons.

With the problem at the centre, each small circle represents a spell we could
cast in order to solve the problem. Will it work? Are there any unforeseen
problems? If so, stop and move on to the next small circle and start again.
This lets us mentally try out one type of spell intention after another and test
each against the central problem.

This sounds almost childish, I know. But it is a very visual exercise, rather
like a mind-map, and serves much the same purpose. As we grow older we
tend not to use visual imagery as much, which is a pity since being able to
visualise is such an important part of magic.

Actually, doing puzzles is an excellent way to sharpen up our magical

thinking. They all seem to free up something in the mind which in turn helps
clear our heads for our magical work. Personally I believe it is because it
gives the conscious mind something to concentrate on, freeing up the
subconscious to deal with other, more esoteric matters. At this point I think I
should explain my own, personal beliefs on the subject of ‘harming none.’
I’ve never found it a helpful guide, since everything we do has consequences
somewhere along the line. Trying to avoid harming everyone is not really a
viable option.

Also, if we restrict ourselves unreasonably we end up feeling we can never

perform a spell without first obtaining specific permissions, harming none
and avoiding all personal gain. This is nonsense and usually results in our
being afraid to perform any spells at all.

I’m not sure where such ideas originated, but they seem to have arrived on
the magical scene relatively recently. Certainly they were unknown when I
was growing up, when magic tended to be less concerned with such matters.

I feel that what is needed here is some balance. Magic intended only to bring
us money will eventually do so at the expense of other things such as
relationships or health (our own or that of other people). And, surprisingly,
magic intended only to bring us good health will do so at the eventual
expense of things like money. Too many spells for others will drain us. Too
many for ourselves will make us self-centred.

The answer therefore is to balance things out. If spells for our own good
health are our priority at the moment, then we could balance them a bit with
spells to maintain or improve the health of others. Sending out healing or
blessings for others is fine but only up to a point; we still need to ask for
things for ourselves. And of course it stands to reason that nobody should
ever try and perform magic all day, every day. Taking a break will improve
our magic no end!

Returning to the subject of harming none, I am not convinced the statement

was ever intended to be interpreted in the way that many modern neo-pagans
do. For a start, it is a part of the Wiccan Rede, aimed solely at those
following the Wiccan path, and not all pagans do this by any means.

The original line, ‘Eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfil, An it harm none do
what ye will’ is really nowhere near as old as has been claimed for it, despite
claims that it is ancient and/or traditional. However, the sentiments behind
this caution to avoid harm, are indeed probably much older.
Of course, many spiritual traditions have maxims designed to encourage
better behaviour in their followers. Some, such as the Judaeo-Christian
faiths, even have Commandments. However, pagans are not subject to these,
and I must admit I get rather annoyed when people tell me that I must be
bound by something that really only applies to people following a very
different path.

Even whether the quote is simply offering advice or more mandatory is

widely disputed. The word ‘Rede’ originally meant counsel. The Anglo-
Saxon King, Ethelred the Unready was originally Ethelred the Redeless,
meaning that he had no advice or wisdom worth having.

When I was growing up, my family tradition of witchcraft taught that

‘Wishes and curses are like old hens, they always come home to roost.’ In
other words, everything we do magically has the potential to come back and
cause us problems. For me this has been a much better maxim because it
casts the net of cause and effect so much wider.

Far too many people wander through life happily believing that as long as
they ‘do good’ then nothing bad will happen. This is nonsense. Almost
everyone has had experience of something that starts out as a good turn yet
ends up having disastrous consequences. Sometimes anyone with a bit of
sense could have anticipated them but sometimes they catch us unawares.

A good example of this is the story of Henry Tandey, the most decorated
British private soldier in World War I. He won various medals, including the
Victoria Cross, and was wounded several times. Although he didn’t mind
killing the enemy in battle, he always tried avoid killing the wounded, the
unarmed, or those who were running away. Near the end of the war he had
almost shot a wounded German soldier, but – true to his code – let him go
(Johnson 2014).

Tandey was to learn many years later that the soldier he had spared was none
other than Adolph Hitler, and it haunted him for the rest of his life. Could he
have prevented World War II with a single shot? This is a classic example of
an act of compassion with entirely unforeseeable – yet still devastating –
consequences.
If we ask ourselves whether Henry Tandey did the right thing, what are we to
say? Hitler’s later career was entirely his own choice. Besides, it may well
have been that in battle, Private Tandey (or indeed, someone else) had killed
another soldier with an even greater capacity for ruthlessness than Hitler. We
shall never know.

The important thing here is realising there are no easy answers. If Henry
Tandey had killed a wounded soldier, then it would have gone against his
own principles, and that, too, would probably have haunted him for the rest
of his life.

We face similar dilemmas all the time in our practical, everyday lives,
although hopefully on a smaller scale. We also face them whenever we
decide to cast a spell. Even the kindest, most compassionate action has the
potential to go horribly wrong, and the best we can manage is to factor this
understanding into our magic. That way, even if things don’t go as planned,
we can work to put them right.

This is the reason I’ve avoided adopting the pose of the stern schoolteacher
here. The truth is that we are faced with such dilemmas every day, and most
of us find a way to resolve them somehow. And if we can’t then we just have
to live with it and do the best we can. As above, so below.

Therefore instead of agonising too much about avoiding harm, I think it is

always better to focus on doing the best we can in the circumstances. We are
not, and never can be, all-knowing. Nor should we expect it of ourselves – or
of others. In the example above, Private Tandey had his own moral code. It
was a good one, and he stuck to it. There was no way he could have known
what would happen to those he spared. Some may have gone on to save lives
and do good. Others, like Hitler would cause the deaths of millions.

However, what those soldiers did with their lives afterwards was entirely
their own choice. It was a classic example of wishes and curses being like
old hens and coming home to roost.

When we use magic to resolve a situation, we too have to live by our own
moral code otherwise we end up with a sort of magical anarchy. Sometimes
we may be required to wait and be patient, other times we may have to grab
the situation by the scruff of its neck and act quickly.

Magic is not just about casting spells. It is about building the ethics and
philosophy that go with it. It’s the work of a lifetime, not a few minutes
playing with a magic wand and a couple of candles. So my advice is to train
ourselves to develop and work with a basic framework – our own moral code
- because this allows us to run through all the pitfalls quickly, like a checklist.

It still surprises me how many people will cast a spell they do not really
believe will work. For me, this is akin to marrying someone we do not truly
love. It is yet another reason for us to plan spells, and spend time thinking
before casting. That is always the stage when the more obvious weaknesses
and potential pitfalls will come to light.

We are always free to make changes and indeed we should do so when we

feel they’re necessary, because this is how we remain true to ourselves. And
unless our magic is authentic, we will always be swimming upstream and
wasting precious energies as a result. Half-hearted magic is worse than no
magic at all.

But for now, we have to attend to more practical matters...

 Chapter five.
Using Coloured threads in Knot Magic

A lthough it is possible to work using the same one or two types of knot
and natural threads such as cotton or jute, if we incorporate coloured
threads we can bring the symbolism of colour into our Knot Magic.
However, although it is interesting to learn the traditions of each colour, we
need not feel too firmly bound by them. They are not written in stone. For
example, people are no longer so superstitious about brides wearing green
whereas even when I was young it was viewed as a bringer of bad luck. So if
we prefer to use colours that have relevance for us, that’s fine too.

The word ‘colour’ probably derives from the root word cal, which comes
from the Indo Germanic skal or skar, meaning to cover or conceal. It is
related to the Latin verbs celare (to hide) and occulere (to cover). So the
original purpose of colour was to provide a layer of concealment to obscure
something (or someone’s) true nature. In this respect it is interesting that the
Greek word for colour is χρώμα (chroma) which is turn is from the same root
as χρώς (chros) meaning skin (Price1883:6).

When we look at coloured threads it is also important to remember that

colours have different meanings in different places. For example, white is the
colour of mourning in much of Asia, whereas in the west, black is worn
instead. And while brides in the west often wear white, in the Indian
subcontinent many wear red.

However, quite apart from cultural traditions, I do not believe there is any
single ‘right’ meaning for colours. For a start we do not all see it the same
way. In my own family there were some pretty spectacular examples of
colour blindness, and my own eye problems mean that I view colour quite
differently depending on which eye I use. Even without such physical
problems, colour is still a highly subjective matter and different people have
different reactions to it.
Sometimes this reaction is rooted deep in painful memories. For example, we
may dislike a colour based on something that happened when we wore it. We
may have had an accident, or lost our job, etc., and as a result we avoid it in
future. If we are superstitious enough then wearing it will often become a
self fulfilling prophecy by attracting more bad luck – a kind of magic by
default, if you like.

So if our reaction to a colour is strong enough, it will probably dictate how

we use that colour magically even if that use is not traditional. Its power lies
only in our reaction to it. And that’s fine. I cannot see any point in trying to
work with a colour that does not evoke the right response in us. It is a waste
of energy.

So, if we feel, for example, that the colour red is associated with love and we
want to perform a spell about love, then a red cord will probably do well for
us. If however we just do not like red, or consider another colour is better for
our spell then we should use that instead.

Consider this old saying:

 Blue is true
Yellow’s jealous,
Green’s forsaken,
Red’s brazen,
White is love
And black is death!
(Heather 1948:165)

Do any of those lines ring true for you? They don’t for me (especially
‘Green’s forsaken’ since it happens to be my favourite colour). My point
here is that if these meanings do not work for us then we are under no
obligation to use them – even if they are traditional!

Whether we are consciously aware of it or not, colour symbolism is all

around us. Certain colours are chosen to convey certain information. Red,
for example, usually signifies danger which is why it’s used for stop signs
and as the ‘stop’ signal in traffic lights where its message is basically, ‘Do
not pass, danger ahead.’

Green, on the other hand, is more ambiguous. In traffic signals it means

‘Go,’ and therefore ‘It is safe.’ And this is possibly why marketing
companies have seized upon green when they want to market organic or
environmentally friendly products. Yet back in the early 1960’s, the colour
green was considered the kiss of death to food marketing! It just shows how
ideas can change.

The idea therefore that it is our own, personal response to a colour that
creates its magical power is quite reasonable. However, there are times
when we might need a spell for a situation we’ve never had to deal with
before, and at such times it can be useful to know what the appropriate colour
might have been in local folk magic. At least it could be a pointer in the
right direction.

Please don’t feel you have to memorise the following colour meanings.
Eventually most of us settle into our magical ways and learn to sense what is
required instinctively. However, we should never assume that we know it
all. A good witch never loses her ability to keep on learning, no matter how
old or experienced she happens to be.

The Earth Colours

Years ago, before the advent of synthetic dyes, most colours were created
from minerals, plants and sometimes insects. Plant dyes produce mostly
what today we would call ‘earth colours’ e.g., the rich ochres and soft tweedy
colours. More vivid colours, such as ultramarine were created from minerals
such as lapis lazuli while scarlet was made from an insect, Kermes
echinatus. Such colours were extremely expensive and scarce, usually
reserved for illuminated manuscripts or for the robes of wealthy nobles and
kings.

Nowadays of course, a huge range of colours is widely available, and even

those that were once so rare and expensive have been replicated (more or
less) with chemical dyes. We might be forgiven for thinking therefore that
the modern world is far more colourful than that of our medieval ancestors.
Yet looking around, we seem to have become a very dreary lot, with the same
drab colours appearing again and again. This may well be just a temporary
trend, but it is still a pity considering so many wonderful shades are easily
available nowadays.

Of course colour – even in the natural world - is very much what we make it.
And when we mark the passing of the seasons in the pagan and heathen
festivals, we often opt to do so with the most brilliant colours available. For
example, the bright golds, coppers and oranges of Samhain, or the red, gold
and green of Yule.

Embroidery, crochet, macramé and woollen threads probably offer us the

widest range of shades and are reasonably inexpensive. A range of
embroidery threads are often available as a packet of assorted colours.

The only drawback I have found with embroidery threads (I used to call them
silks, but nowadays real silk threads are expensive and difficult to obtain) is
that they are a little slippery and not really suitable for tying anything but the
simplest of knots. Still, a combination of colour and simple knot work can
produce a magical force to be reckoned with and it is easy to combine one or
two colours to make the most of their magical properties.
A word of advice here though – it’s best to avoid putting together a veritable
rainbow of colours since their meanings will probably cancel each other out.
Instead we should concentrate on just one or two colours, at least until we
feel more confident.

If embroidery threads are the right colour yet too fiddly for tying knots, then
one alternative is to use them to create embroidery knots such as French
Knots. These have the great advantage of being almost impossible to detect
as anything other than a piece of embroidery. It doesn’t have to be a
masterpiece, a simple flower or some cross stitch with some French knots
would do perfectly well. Also it enables our magic to be easily concealed – if
that is what we wish.

Another easy to conceal ‘thread’ is a ribbon. At one time ribbons were a

popular addition to hair and clothing. Think of poor Bob Cratchitt’s wife in
Dickens’ Christmas Carol ‘dressed out but poorly in a twice-turned gown,
but brave in ribbons, which are cheap and make a goodly show for
sixpence.’ Even when I was young, I had to tie my long hair back with black
ribbon (and only black) when I went to school. So using ribbons in Knot
Magic offers us perfect concealment for times when ribbons are going to be
used anyway.

Now it is time to consider individual colours and how we might be able to

use them in our magic...

Red
Red is a colour that most of us with normal colour vision will easily
recognise and is one of the three primary colours (the other two are yellow
and blue). Yet pure red is a fairly uninteresting colour. Think of the red ink
cartridge in a printer – hardly inspiring, is it? It only becomes interesting
when other colours: yellow, blue and even opaque white are added in minute
amounts. Then it can appear as anything from dull brick and earth colours,
through shades tinged with blue or yellow, right up to the most brilliant
crimson and scarlet.

Likewise red’s symbolism can vary. Back in the day when true scarlet and
crimson could only be obtained from insects, the colours were so expensive
that their use was reserved as a status symbol for the elite and for important
religious ritual. This happened even in prehistoric times, such as the example
of red woven fabric in a high status Neolithic burial in a cave at Adaouste in
Southern France (Barber 1992).

Therefore, armed with this knowledge we might decide to reserve brilliant,

red threads (even if these were obtained using modern chemical dyes) for
special occasions in Knot Magic.

Bright red (and pink) are also associated with love. In early February shops
are full of the colour for Valentine’s Day, while in India, as we’ve noted,
brides wear beautiful red saris. But before rushing to note down that red
symbolises love, we must remember the other interpretations too. For
example, years ago a ‘scarlet woman’ was someone who indulged in sexual
activity outside of marriage. (Curiously, there seems to have been no
equivalent for a ‘scarlet man’ though!)

This association of red with sin is supported in famous Biblical quotes such
as Isaiah 1.18: ‘...though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as
snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.’ Yet the same
Old Testament contradicts this statement in Proverbs 31:21 where the
household of virtuous women are ‘...clothed all in scarlet.’

One effect of this type of ambiguous thinking is that we end up – whether we

realise it or not - feeling confused. We have never been encouraged to really
think for ourselves, only to absorb platitudes and ‘received wisdom.’ Instead
of giving up, I believe we should look always for the bigger picture, and see
what makes sense to us.

Although many of the ‘earth’ reds tend to be dull, terracotta shades, the
natural world can also provide us with much brighter ones. Some berries, for
example, are the most brilliant shades of scarlet and crimson. Although they
only last for a short season, many of their magical properties were believed to
exist in the wood of the plants that produced them, such as rowan, hawthorn
and wild roses.
For example, years ago, dairymaids sometimes carried crosses made of
rowan wood and tied with red wool to prevent their milk from turning sour.
Here the red wool symbolises the red rowan berries (that would have been
unavailable most of the year) while the rowan wood represents the power
within the plant itself.

In practical terms therefore, we could adapt this, using either rowan berries as
beads on a red thread, or rowan bark or even a piece of rowan twig with a red
thread tied around it. We may have no interest in whether or not the milk
turns sour, but the spell could easily be adapted to preserve the status quo and
prevent change, which is essentially what the milkmaids were doing with
their milk.

Red’s popularity as a warning made it a natural choice not only for road signs
but also military uniforms (an old nickname for the English army was
‘Redcoat.’) So we could use red in any spell designed to stop or drive
something back, or to prevent a potentially dangerous situation. This could
be very effective especially if combined it with a figure-of-eight knot.

The colour red has traditionally been used in many areas, especially in ‘Celtic
fringe’ countries such as Scotland, Ireland and Wales, to protect against
enchantment from fairies or ‘witches.’ One remedy, especially popular
amongst farmers in the Highlands of Scotland and parts of Ireland, was to tie
a piece of red wool or a red rag around a cow’s tail. This prevented it from
being enchanted, so that it could not be magically milked during the night.
Although we are not told what type of knot was used, nor whether any charm
was spoken, this shows us nevertheless how the colour red was used
protectively.

From this we can also see that red would be a good colour to use in various
spells for psychic self defence, especially when combined with an appropriate
‘stopping’ knot such as the figure-of-eight.

People are sometimes surprised to discover that red was often associated with
Fairyland. Nowadays we tended to think of it being associated with green,
but centuries ago, the Fairy Folk were supposed to favour both red and green
for their clothing.
Personally however, I would not recommend casting spells that involved the
Gentle People (another name for the Fairy Folk and one that seems more
agreeable to those that frequent my own garden). Their magic is their own,
and although it is possible for us all to live amicably together, I suspect they
would not appreciate being made the subject of our spells.

The colour red has also entered our language to denote confusion. So we find
sayings such as ‘That was a red herring,’ meaning something intended to lead
us astray and away from the truth. Therefore red threads could be used in
spells intended to obscure others’ view of what is really going on around
them. It would make the colour very useful in matters of magical secrecy
and concealment.

Like many spell intentions, secrecy and concealment are neither good nor bad
as such. We should not fear that they will in some way compromise our own
personal ethics. They won’t. The devil is always in the detail. Secrecy and
concealment can certainly cause harm it is true, but they can also prevent it.

For example, suppose someone was trying to hide from an abusive or unkind
family member. In everyday life, this would be quite understandable and we
would, I hope, try to help them perhaps by preventing the unkind family
member from knowing where the other person was hiding.

In much the same way therefore, using red cords to cause confusion and
obscure things can be perfectly acceptable since this is what we might do –
with the best of intentions – in our everyday lives. It’s really all a question of
using common sense and avoiding a knee-jerk reaction to certain types of
spell. It is the individual spell that should concern us, not some vague idea of
type or category.

The colour red has also entered our consciousness with regard to money. We
use phrases such as ‘I’m in the red’ (meaning to be overdrawn or in debt)
without even thinking of the colour. In this particular example, it comes from
the use of red ink in book-keeping many years ago, where it was used denote
being overdrawn.
Therefore, for the purposes of Knot Magic intended to get us out of debt, we
could use this colour as a starting point – perhaps in the form of a red bead
threaded onto black cotton. If we then use performative magic, we then say
something like, ‘With this red bead I gather together all my debts. With this
black thread I shall get out of debt and my finances will all be healthy again.’

We can do much the same thing by using ‘Just as... so may’ formula too.
Using the same intention, we could say, ‘Just as my debts place me in the red,
so I place this red bead onto a black thread. Just as I tie this knot, so may all
my debts be cleared and placed behind me...’

Another way red has entered our language is when we say that someone ‘sees
red’, meaning they become angry. Now of course anger is not always a
negative emotion although I know that, like secrecy, it makes many people
uneasy. Yet sometimes anger gives us the strength to cope with intolerable
situations, to go on when others would give up. It’s not always wise to rid
ourselves of our anger completely, just in case we need it again.

However, like many things in life, anger makes a great servant but a bad
master. It needs to be kept under control otherwise it risks becoming rage,
something most of us would prefer to avoid. So if we notice our own (or
someone else’s) anger is getting out of control and making those around
unhappy we may want to cast a spell to try and rein it in to a more
manageable level.

To do this, we would need to start with a red cord and join it to a lighter one
(pink, cream or white). The first knot, tied only in the red cord, symbolises
the present state of things. The second knot, tied in red and white and joining
the two colours together, symbolises the change, while the third knot, tied in
only the white cord symbolises the future, i.e. what we want to happen.

Alternatively, we could physically change the colour of the red cord by

dipping it first in red ink and then, before it dries out, soaking it in water so
that some of the anger leaches out. Thus the anger is symbolically released
and we can tie a knot (something like a figure-of-eight) to act as a stopper
and prevent its return. There is more about changing colours in Chapter Six.
Red is also the colour of inflammation, and a popular good choice for healing
wounds, scars and various sores. Nor does this connection with healing
belong solely in the distant past, since red ribbons were chosen in the
twentieth century to signify AIDS awareness.

Years ago, red threads were popularly used for curing nosebleeds. In Essex,
for example, sufferers were sometimes given a piece of red silk thread to be
worn around the neck after someone of the opposite sex had first tied nine
knots in it (Newman and Wilson 1951:261). In Lancashire, Leicestershire
and Worcestershire, children suffering from whooping cough traditionally
wore a cord tied with nine knots around their necks although no colour is
mentioned here (Rolleston 1943:304).

Red tape was also sometimes used as a form of pain relief during labour – the
tape was tied either around the woman’s waist or thigh. This clearly this has
some magical intent, since one’s back and thighs do ache a great deal during
labour, sometimes due to sluggish circulation, which again links blood with
the colour red and healing.
Blue
Like red and yellow, blue is a primary colour, and I think one reason it has so
much influence on us emotionally is because it is the colour of the sky on a
clear day. Whenever we lift our heads, there it is, colouring the grey clouds,
or shining with the beautiful clear cerulean blue of a midsummer sky, to the
palest pearl in winter. At night it runs a whole course of colours, finally
ending up as the darkest shade of midnight just a whisper away from black.

It’s little wonder therefore that blue has entered our everyday language since
it makes up so much of our surroundings. Even the darkest clouds are tinged
with a certain amount of blue. You can test this for yourself by mixing black
watercolour paint with water and painting clouds with this, then comparing it
to clouds mixed from a red earth colour, and a blue, such as ultramarine. The
red/blue mixture is considerably more realistic than the black, which tends to
look flat and sooty by comparison.

Strangely though, ‘blue’ entered the English language some time ago as a
euphemism for feeling very low in spirits. Quite why this should be puzzles
me. Although I’ve heard the story about ships flying blue flags when a crew
member was lost, there is little evidence for this. I suspect it may have more
to do with the way skin can take on a blue tinge after death or when one has
breathing difficulties.

As with the example given above for anger, we could try bleaching or
washing out the colour from a knotted blue thread as part of a spell intended
to help lift one’s spirits (More information is given on methods of changing
colour in Chapter Six). I must stress though, that spells and magic should
never replace proper medical care.

Blue can also indicate rarity, as in ‘once in a blue moon’ meaning something
that doesn’t happen very often. Since we rarely see the moon looking
particularly blue, the comparison is quite a good one. Nowadays though, the
phrase is usually taken to mean a month where there are two full moons, or
where there are four full moons in a season instead of three. For spells
intended to help along something that may only happen once in a lifetime
(graduation, for example), blue threads might therefore be very helpful.
Blue has other meanings, too. A ‘bluestocking’ was once a popular term for
a woman with intellectual interests. It originally meant someone who dressed
informally, wearing blue worsted stockings instead of formal black silk ones.
At certain literary assemblies in mid- eighteenth century London, the women
who attended were known as blue-stocking ladies or blue-stockingers.

The informal dress of the bluestockings may be connected with the term ‘out
of the blue’ meaning something unexpected. After all, it is difficult for
something to suddenly sneak up on us in a clear blue sky.

Therefore magically blue cords could be used in spells intended to help

someone pursue an intellectual career. This might, at a pinch, tie in with the
‘once in a blue moon’ suggestion for graduating, perhaps. It’s unlikely such
symbolism works only for women in this situation, but like all magic, we
need to experiment. Practising magic is quite different from just reading
about it!

Although the term ‘blue collar’ refers to manual workers in various industries
(as opposed to the higher grade ‘white collar’ workers) the term ‘blue chip’
indicates something of high quality and in the US a blue chip in gambling
was worth a lot of money. Likewise, a blue ribbon or ‘cordon bleu’
symbolises excellence, especially in cooking. Magically therefore blue could
be a useful colour to incorporate into any spell intended to help us (or
someone else) achieve excellence.

In art, the blue pigment lapis lazuli was incredibly expensive, which may
explain the belief that royalty has ‘blue blood’ even though we know
perfectly well that their blood is just as red as our own. Blue could therefore
also be used for spells to influence wealth or status.

Conversely however, blue was often associated with poverty. There are
several ‘Bluecoat Schools’ in the UK, some dating back to Tudor times.
These were originally founded to provide an education for poor boys. The
pupils wore long blue coats, which were the everyday wear of schoolboys
and apprentices of that time. The blue dye used for these coats was relatively
cheap and anyone seeing these pupils would have understood their
underprivileged background. There was even a time when the term ‘blue
gown’ meant a beggar.

Years ago, the word ‘blue’ was also used in respect of anything vulgar. So
people would say things like, ‘Not-blue-pencil likely!’ instead of ‘Not bloody
likely!’ and of course pornographic films were called blue movies. I cannot
imagine what sort of ‘vulgar’ spell would call for blue cords but I am quite
sure that somewhere there is someone who does!

It is fairly well documented that the Gentle People were associated with
knots, and in Celtic lands it was often claimed they could not be held by any
knot. According to one Scottish tradition, they danced around the Hallow-
fires, while tying knots with their left hands which they then threw over their
left shoulder (Gregor 1883:55). One-handed knots are indeed possible;
surgeons sometimes have to tie sutures this way.

The Gentle People also tied magical ‘fairy knots’ in blue ribbons, and these
could never be undone. They left them lying around for unwary mortals to
find and pick up. Anyone who did so was immediately enchanted and
sometimes carried away. On the other hand, the fairies would sometimes
bestow the gift of tying knots on a mortal who had shown them kindness.

Like red and pink, blue was at one time associated with love, especially in the
ancient Greco-Roman world where it was sacred to Venus, the Roman
Goddess of Love (her Greek ‘equivalent’ was Aphrodite). Blue was strongly
linked with fertility and many brides still choose to wear ‘something blue.’
In parts of north-western Europe, blue flowers such as flax were used in love
spells or to bring about or protect pregnancy, while blue periwinkles were
often planted in newlyweds’ gardens to symbolise married love.
Yellow
Yellow is the third of the primary colours, and its name derives from the Old
English geolu, closely related to the word gold. This could make it a natural
choice for spells involving money or wealth.

However, yellow is often used to denote cowardice and jealousy. If we

combined a yellow cord with a figure-of-eight knot we could then
symbolically ‘stop’ our fear (or jealous feelings) and then burn the cord
afterwards to banish the fear/jealousy completely.

Yellow can also be used as a warning. In the UK, when a single amber or
yellow light shows on traffic lights this warns it is about to change to red. In
football, referees warns players about their behaviour by showing them the
yellow card. Health-wise, a ship flying a yellow flag, warned others in the
vicinity or in port that there was a contagious disease on board. So yellow
might – if we feel we can relate to it – be used in a spell to warn someone
away from something, or to alert them of possible dangers ahead.

Centuries ago, yellow was associated with death, and at one time paupers’
burial grounds were known as ‘yellow holes.’ One explanation for this is that
their bodies were often fumigated with sulphur (a yellow substance). This
was a popular disinfectant, widely used for fumigating homes (and even
objects) during epidemics.

The first written reference to the use of sulphur for fumigation occurs in
Book 12 of Homer’s Odyssey. This tells how Odysseus, having killed all the
suitors who had occupied his home, ordered that sulphur should be burned in
his house, to cleanse it of their presence.

Although we might not want – or be able – to work with sulphur in our spells,
yellow cords could be a good choice for any magical work involving
cleansing or disinfecting or even perhaps to try and prevent contagion
(although I must stress, as always, that this should not put us off seeking
appropriate medical treatment).

Yellow is also associated with ageing, such as paintwork or paper growing

yellow with age. Obviously it’s unlikely (not to mention undesirable) that we
should cast spells to cause other people to age, as most of us do not want to
appear older than we are – quite the opposite, in fact. However we might
want to stay together as we age, or something like that, and in those
circumstances perhaps yellow cords could be a good choice. If this imagery
is particularly significant for us, then there’s no reason not to use it.

During the twentieth century, it became popular to use yellow ribbons to

welcome home those who had been away for a long time, for example
serving on a tour of duty with the armed forces, or even in prison. So,
providing we associated yellow with remembrance and vigils, we could tie
knots in yellow cords or ribbons as part of a spell to keep ourselves fondly in
someone’s thoughts and welcome them back.
Green
Green is a diverse colour, that makes us a large proportion of our
surroundings. Ranging from the palest yellow and pastel shades to the most
vibrant sea greens and viridians, it’s no surprise to find it symbolises a whole
host of different meanings and has varied and contradictory properties.

Like many of our names for colours, green derives from Old English grēne.
This is linguistically related to words meaning grass and grow. It is a
secondary colour – meaning it is made up of two primary colours, blue and
yellow, although it is possible to make quite an interesting dull green from
yellow and black.

Both green and yellow are sometimes associated with jealousy and
melancholy. Shakespeare refers to ‘Green and yellow melancholy’ in Twelfth
Night (Act 2 Scene 4) while in both the Merchant of Venice and Othello he
describes jealousy as green eyed.

Because of its associations with the earth, green can be associated with both
freedom (i.e. breaking the bonds of the earth) and hospitality (where the host
offers guests the fruits of the earth.) It has also been associated with
knowledge, insight, second sight, wisdom and following the laws of nature.

Green can also symbolise growth, especially in the spring when the new
green shoots first poke their heads above ground. It can represent not only
the beginnings of growth in spring but also its fulfilment at the end of
summer, making it ideal to use in spells concerned with new enterprises or
anything that needs time to grow, such as love or knowledge.

Observing the world around us is always one of the best ways to understand
magic. The ‘As above, so below’ dictum works well here. For example, the
green growths of spring occur when the year is young and new. Thus green
is often associated with youth and inexperience, hence ‘greenhorn’ or ‘green’
meaning immature or naive.

Taking this a step further, we find green was also associated with sexual
growth, so ‘To give a girl a green gown’ could mean anything from making
love out of doors, to losing one’s virginity or even, in Elizabethan times, to
becoming pregnant. This symbolism would make green a good colour for
anything concerned with the rites of passage of young people as they grow
up, perhaps added to a red cord or bead in order to mark a small celebration
for a young girl’s first menstrual period.

Adopting a slightly different point of view, ‘A green gown’ could also mean
a shroud, since the dead are buried in the earth, and their graves are quickly
covered by new vegetation. So – like yellow – green threads could be
incorporated into any magic or ritual marking a funeral, especially a burial.

Like red, green was popular in healing magic. Evergreens are plants that do
not shed their leaves in even the harshest of winters. Perhaps this explains
the old belief that green guards the secret of immortality. Indeed, in the plant
world, evergreens that bore fruit in winter were thought to be especially
powerful life symbols (Drury: 1987:194-9). Therefore it could be useful to
include a green thread or two in any magical intention associated with
healing, life or longevity.

In the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, some written tracts
stated that green threads were used in place of hoops of ‘greene woodbyne’
which was probably honeysuckle. These hoops had to be cut during a
waxing moon in March, and represented the re-birthing hoops used for
healing various conditions, including consumption. The patient had to be
passed through the hoop three times as part of the ritual and when that was
complete, the hoop was cut up and burned or sometimes buried. It’s not
really clear why green thread had was used for the hoop unless perhaps in
some years there was a shortage of suitable plant material (Dalyell 1834,
121).

Other ailments that people attempted to cure using green threads and ribbon
included epilepsy(with a ribbon bracelet), rheumatism (with a woollen
bracelet) and nosebleeds (with a ribbon worn around the neck) (Hutchings
1987:57) The same source also describes how a woman tied a green ribbon
around her young grand-daughter’s wrist back in 1925 in order to ensure the
infant would have ‘second sight.’

Perhaps green’s association with growth also explains why it was such a
popular colour for bank notes. If we live in an area where this is the case
then we may feel the colour lends itself well to spells intended to increase
wealth or concerned with money in some other way.

However, it must be said that right across Europe, green also has some very
negative associations and superstitions attached to it. For example in Zagreb,
between 1640 and 1752, some women accused of witchcraft confessed to
setting out green woollen threads during the week of a new moon. When
their victim stepped on it, they measured the length of his foot and tied knots
in that piece of the thread before throwing it away into running water
(Vukanović 1989:15).

Many traditional ingredients of ‘witchcraft’ are present here: the new moon,
the desire to harm, tying knots and throwing the thread into running water.
However, since such confessions were often obtained under torture, it is quite
possible that the women were only confessing to ideas being suggested to
them by their interrogators.

Prejudice against the colour green probably arose out of observations too. It
is the same colour as unripe fruit, gone-off or ‘green’ meat (both of which
can make us ill), mould, decomposition and decay. Back in the nineteenth
century (and the early years of the twentieth), arsenic was used in making
green wallpaper, and when it became damp this gave off a poisonous gas
called arsine.

Other observations from everyday life can prove very useful when we try to
work out the significance of colours. For example, out in the open
countryside, green provides excellent camouflage. This made it a popular
colour for some hunter’s clothing but not for others, since fox hunters, for
example, preferred red. Magically however, green could be useful in spells
intended to keep objects and people safely hidden.

Green also has many contradictory associations with fairies, who were
thought to be attracted to humans who wore the colour. Yet they also wore
green in order to hide from human beings (which is another example of
camouflage). By the same thinking, this may explain why witches – at one
time – were said to dress in green, in order to pass unnoticed. Magically
therefore, green is useful in spells whenever secrecy is important.

In spite of its association with fertility and sexual activity, green was often
avoided by lovers who thought it unlucky, hence the saying, ‘Wear green and
you’ll soon wear black.’ There was even a handy little rhyme to remind them
of this in case they were tempted to forget:

Those dressed in blue, Have lovers true

In green and white, Forsaken quite.
(Heather Dec 1948:165)

Apart from its associations with witches and fairies, green was once
considered unlucky for bridal couples, perhaps because King Charles I and
his bride Henrietta Maria both wore green when they married in 1625
(Monsarrat 1973, 43). Initially at least, their marriage was difficult and
unhappy; Charles was later executed (although probably not because he wore
green!) In some parts of Scotland green was considered so unlucky that
green vegetables were even banned from the wedding breakfast! And yet, in
the little quote above, white is also mentioned as unlucky, although it doesn’t
seem to have deterred couples who wanted a large, ‘white’ formal wedding.

All in all it’s difficult to explain why the colour is so disliked, and I do
wonder whether it was a few, very noisy people who fuelled these
superstitions in just a handful of areas. Certainly the reporting and collecting
of folklore is rather uneven, with some places (and probably some
informants) being given far more attention than others.

Personally I love the colour green and feel it’s always been lucky for me.
But who knows, perhaps it is lucky for some but not for others! However,
the important thing is that if you feel you are one for whom green is ‘lucky’
then you should run with this and not fear it just because of some rhyme or
saying made up by others. Magic is very subjective, very personal. The
secret of using colours successfully in our spells is to discover our own
response to them.

The Curious Conundrum of Blue, Green, Water... and Amber

This group – blue, green, water and amber – has puzzled me for some years.
While I can understand grouping blue, green and water together, the addition
of amber is not so obvious, so I feel it deserves a small section all to itself.

Colour, and how we view it, has been strongly influenced I believe, by
observing the natural world around us. There were once sailors in Argyll
who disliked a whole range of natural looking colours found in dyed wool.
These included a range of blues, greys, yellowish browns, and orange
browns. They reasoned that these colours resembled lichens which grew on
rocks, therefore they believed they would magically attract rocks when they
were out at sea, thus sinking their boats (Hutchings 1997:59). It’s an
excellent example of some very magical thinking indeed!

Also, as we have already seen in this chapter, green and blue were both
considered fairy colours. In the case of green, some people went to great
lengths to avoid wearing it in case it attracted the unwelcome attentions of the
Gentle Folk.

In the Outer Hebrides, this superstition went one further, with people
believing that just to mention the colour green risked calling up the fairies.
Their solution was ingenious: anything green was simply described as blue
(Goodrich-Freer 1899, 265). Even though blue was sometimes associated
with the fairy realms, it must have been viewed as far less provocative,
perhaps even conciliatory.

However, there may be more to it than this. The word glas is Celtic; in
Welsh this means blue, while in Scottish Gaelic it covers a range of colours
including grey, green and blue. So the colours do seem to be linked, and
many a child when asked to colour the sea or a lake will pick up a blue
crayon. It’s fairly instinctive, and often quite accurate; after all, the water
does reflect the blue of the sky. And glas certainly had connections with
water, which is how we have personal names such as Douglas (meaning a
dark stream) and Finglas (meaning a white one.) Glas could also mean
vigour, or life force as in Gaidheal glas meaning the vigorous, fresh Gael
(MacKenzie 1922:137).

Something else associated with both water and with the word glas was
amber. This link is less obvious, but centuries ago it was believed that amber
was formed out of sea foam. This also provides us with a connection to the
Divine Feminine, especially the ancient Greek deity, Aphrodite who,
according to myth, was born out of sea foam. This makes amber a magical
by-product of water, perhaps because it had been impregnated with that
element’s life force or life substance.

Yet why was water so bound up with the force of life itself? Well, obviously
we need water. If we do not drink we shall die. But there must have been
other observations too, such as the waters of birth that gush from the
mother’s body just before or during birth. This can be seen as evidence of
the Life Force and therefore also of glas or vigour. Conversely, amber
shows evidence of the other end of the life force too, with insects seemingly
suspended for eternity in a solid lump of golden resin.

Amber is physically associated with water too, being found in some

abundance along the coast of the Baltic. According to Tacitus (Germania
XLV) the Aestii tribe (who were probably Celts) living near the Baltic would
search for pieces of amber (which they called glese) on the beaches and ‘in
the shallows’ and then trade it with the Romans. With typical Roman
arrogance, Tacitus makes it seem as though the Aestii just ignored amber
until they realised the Romans would pay for it. In fact they had been trading
it since the Iron Age (Waldman, Mason 2006: 9-10).

Magically therefore green – or greenish blue – threads could be combined

with amber beads in spell work, especially if the spell intention was
connected with water, or with anything that comes out of water, or indeed,
the life force in whatever way we need to use it.
Purple
If there was ever a colour associated with wealth and power over the past two
and a half thousand years, it was purple. In fact the saying ‘Born into (or
born to) the purple’ used to be a saying along the lines of ‘Born with a silver
spoon in his mouth.’ In other words, one was born into privilege. Of course
purple of itself does nothing; it cannot not change the person underneath,
merely defines and perhaps influences the way others perceive them.

Like green, purple is also a secondary colour. Mixed from blue and red, it
can range from near crimson to almost blue. Its name probably originated
with the Greek porphura, which were the molluscs that provided the famous
crimson/purple dye known as Tyrian purple.

This expensive colour was reserved for dyeing fabrics to be worn by

emperors and senior magistrates in Rome and Byzantium. In Rome senators
wore purple stripes on their togas and the purple dragon became Caesar’s
emblem, which his standard bearer carried before him (Ellis Davidson
1950:180). At the battle of Actium, when Cleopatra and Mark Antony fought
Octavian (who was later to become the Emperor Augustus), the Egyptian
Queen’s ship had purple sails.

Magically speaking therefore, purple could be useful in spells involving

authority or secular power. However it may have had much older
associations with sacred power too. At around 300 BCE, at the famous
sanctuary of Demeter and Kore at Eleusis, a purple woollen cloth was used to
wipe the statues of the gods and the Hierophant there wore a purple
ceremonial garment (Clinton 1974:23,46).

Apart from being associated with the elite – both sacred and secular - purple
can occasionally denote excess, as in ‘purple prose’. This is a style of writing
that wallows in a mire of adverbs, adjectives and generally flowery language.
While best avoided in writing, magically this association with excess could
be useful whenever we need to enhance some aspect of our lives. The trick
of course it not to overdo it, but that comes with practice. Otherwise, as the
opposite of austerity, purple cord could be a good choice in spells to call forth
abundance.
Of course, purple has many other meanings. In everyday speech, if someone
is ‘purple with rage’ it suggests a stage that has advanced far beyond the
more usual ‘red with anger’. Rage is an uncontrolled emotion, and most
people would not wish to remain in that state for long. Using purple threads
with lilac beads, would be useful in spells intended to lessen rage.

In the United States, the Purple Heart is a military decoration awarded for
bravery, therefore a purple cord could be used (perhaps with a heart-shaped
bead) for spells to make us (or others) braver. We could therefore start the
spell with an plain cord and then dye it purple during the course of the spell
(See Chapter Six for more information on this method). However, even a
term like ‘purple heart’ is ambiguous; in the UK it became a popular slang
term for amphetamines!

Another saying that seems to be unique to the UK is a ‘purple patch’ meaning

a run of good luck. However, as I keep stressing throughout this book, there
is no point in adopting any of these ideas unless we can relate to them. If we
do find an idea works for us, then in this instance we could use a purple cord
in spells intended to bring us (or someone else) a run of good luck.

Purple was sometimes associated with weddings because it was the colour of
the fringe on a Roman bride’s wedding veil (Tegg 1877). However,
according to Pliny, (Nat. Hist., xxi, 22) in the ‘...most ancient time yellow
was held in the highest esteem, but was reserved exclusively for the nuptial
veils of females.’ Whether Roman brides wore a yellow veil with a purple
fringe, or whether Pliny was referring to a plain yellow veil, perhaps a much
earlier practice that was already outdated in his own day, is uncertain. Still,
we might consider combining yellow and purple cords for spells associated
with brides and weddings.

Purple also turns up in association with some otherworldly beings. For

example, the Will o’ the wisp and Jack o‘ Lantern were both beings who
took the form of a light – often purple – that wandered across bogs and
swampy ground. The lights could either follow people, or lead them astray
and even mimic their movements. The stories are surprisingly widespread
and similar all over the world. A wide variety of chemicals including
methane and phosphine have variously been put forward as scientific
explanations.
Brown
If we ask most people how to mix the colour brown, they will answer ‘red
and green.’ Thus it contains all three primary colours, although a decent dark
brown can also be made from red and black. In appearance brown can range
from darkest mud to a rich shade of terracotta or deep gold. Even though we
may use ready dyed threads, I still believe it is important to understand their
component colours.

If we wanted cast a spell to rectify, say the shameful treatment of our Mother
Earth, then knowing that the brown colour of earth is comprised of all three
primary colours could influence the threads we use. Rather than using ready-
made brown threads we could knot together blue, red and yellow ones
instead.

Yet brown imagery has not entered our language in quite the same way as
some other colours. The old saying ‘to do brown’ once meant to deceive,
although I’ve not heard it for many years now. A little more common is the
phrase ‘A brown study,’ meaning to be lost in one’s thoughts or
daydreaming.

Both these ideas can be incorporated into spells but only if we feel they have
meaning for us. Personally I don’t think I could get very enthusiastic about
using brown for spells concerned with promoting or preventing deception
solely because of the saying ‘to do brown,’ because it really doesn’t ring any
bells for me.

A brown study however is a little closer to my heart, perhaps because I was

such a daydreamer as a child. The phrase reminds me of old-fashioned sepia
photographs of Victorian ladies sitting reading in the garden. So for a spell
concerned with daydreaming, a sepia coloured cord would work for me –
although perhaps not for others!

Brown is also the colour of faeces which, it must be said, is something of a

conversation stopper. Modern witches sometimes shy away from the more
basic aspects of the Craft, forgetting that not only faeces but also urine,
chamber lye, pus and menstrual blood were once common ingredients in
spells. Magic in the past was certainly not all about incense and candles and
human faeces were often used in hexes.

Grey
Grey is one of those colours that everyone believes they know and recognise.
Grey is just grey, right? Well, not really. Since childhood we’ve been taught
that you mix black and white together and grey is the result, but actually grey
is one of the most complex colours there is. Black and white certainly creates
one type of grey, it’s true. But there are many, many others as well.

For example, if we mix together a watery solution of brick red and a clear
strong blue such as ultramarine, we will get another type of grey. Since there
are many shades of brick red and clear blue, the possible permutations are
endless, and they all produce very interesting, lively shades of grey.

If we were doing a spell intended to produce better insight, i.e. to avoid

seeing things simplistically in black and white, then a grey cord could be an
excellent colour for achieving a better balance, although we might want to
add in threads of red and blue just for good measure!

In the past, grey was associated with the Fairy Folk, perhaps because they
were able to fade in and out of sight. Also in a misty landscape grey would
be a useful colour for camouflage. More recently, there are ‘the greys’ alien
beings who come to earth in their spaceships, and who have grey skin and
large, black, almond-shaped eyes.

So if we are casting a spell that is somehow connected either with the Fairy
Folk, aliens, extra terrestrials or Other Worlds, grey could be an ideal choice
for our cord, although personally I would be extremely wary about such
magic. We know little enough about other worlds as it is, and there are
plenty of legends about people who ‘ran away with the fairies,’ never to
return. There are similar tales about people abducted by aliens, too.

Grey may also be associated with the Divine Feminine. The saying, ‘The old
grey mare is the better horse’ traditionally means a household where the wife
is the boss, although it could have also meant a household where the Divine
Feminine was still honoured. Not provable, of course, but certainly an
interesting thought!
Black
Like grey, black is a more complex colour than most people realise. Some
people, particularly artists, don’t regard black or white as real colours at all,
but as the ultimate dark and light respectively and as such might be used to
adjust the balance on our spiritual path.

Both black and white have not only entered our language but also our
magical consciousness. Indeed, black can actually indicate a lack of physical
consciousness, as in the term ‘to black out.’

The richest shades of black are created using various proportions of the
primary colours rather than just squeezing black from a tube (this tends to
result in a rather flat, lifeless colour. Sometimes it looks like a hole in the
paper!) Since black contains a little of everything, just what type of dark it is
(i.e. warm or cool) depends on the proportion of red and blue in the mix.

For centuries, black has been associated with death and mourning, much of it
due I suspect to the Old Testament. The original Hebrew text for ‘I caused
Lebanon to mourn’ (Ezekiel 31:15 in the King James Version) literally
translates as ‘I caused Lebanon to be black.’ (Heather 1948:169). (It should
be noted however that in much of Asia, white is the traditional colour of
mourning.)

In ancient Greece, the playwright Euripides described, ‘...the black robed

ruler of the dead’ in his play Alcestis. In Europe, by the Middle Ages, black
was firmly associated with funerals, and therefore linked with mourning and
grief. This was probably not helped by the spread of the so-called Black
Death epidemic in the fourteenth century.

Nowadays even financial calamities are often described as black, as in Black

Monday (when the world’s stock markets crashed on Monday, 19th October
1987), or Black Tuesday (referring to the Wall Street Crash of 1929), Black
Wednesday in September 1992 when the UK was forced out of the European
Exchange Rate Mechanism, and there are too many Black Thursdays to
attempt to list here!

It is hardly surprising therefore that black was once thought to actually attract
death or disaster, either to the person wearing it or to someone close to them.
For example, even using a black headed pin when fitting a wedding dress was
said to cause the death of the groom! In the UK not so long ago, when the
punishment for murder was hanging, the judge would put on a black cap
before passing sentence. Yet white flowers (the so-called Mother-Die plants)
seem to have exerted a similar baneful effect at the other end of the colour
scale.

Like blue, black is traditionally associated with low moods, sadness and even
depression, sometimes referred to as the ‘black dog’. In medieval medicine,
‘black bile’ was one of the Four Bodily Humours, (the others were yellow
bile, phlegm, and blood). To possess too much black bile was thought to
indicate that the patient had a melancholy temperament.

There also is an element of sneakiness and deception in the colour black. For
example, there is ‘black-listing,’ where someone’s name is added to a secret
register which prevents them accessing work, housing, loans etc., and has a
detrimental effect on their lives. Or blackmail, where people threaten to
reveal something that has hitherto been hidden. And a bad person is
sometimes called a ‘blackguard.’ There are even ‘black ops’, which are
covert military operations, often using methods that wouldn’t normally be
approved.

Even in the natural world, we find a secretive and deceptive aspect to the
colour black. ‘Black ice’ is clear rather than grey or white so that motorists
do not see it in time to avoid an accident. Meteorologists may well insist that
‘Black ice is just ice,’ but anyone who has ever skidded unexpectedly on
what seemed a clear stretch of road would probably beg to differ!

Black seems to have been used very occasionally in weather magic too. Back
in the nineteenth century, a witch at Stornaway sold winds to sailors, in the
form of three knots tied in a black cord. Possibly the black cord represented
dark storm clouds (Folklore of Drayton Part III 1884: 358).

A quick search for popular phrases containing the word ‘black’ will reveal
sayings as diverse as being in someone’s black books, to the black sheep of
the family and even to practice the ‘Black Arts’! And as I have said
repeatedly throughout this book, no saying or colour has any worthwhile
importance unless it has meaning for us.

Personally I find black cords useful for symbolising ignorance, a wilful

refusal to listen to reason, the darkness of the soul, or an inability to see
another person’s point of view. Magically speaking, we would be unlikely to
want such a state of affairs to continue, therefore dyeing the cord in ink and
then soaking it in order to release the colour would be a good way to release
some of the negativity (See Chapter Six for more details about this method).
White
If black is the ultimate ‘dark’ then white is surely the ultimate ‘light,’ or
absence of colour. Our English word ‘white’ comes from the Old English
hwīt, and is probably linguistically related to the word ‘wheat.’ Unlike many
other colours, it does not signify mood, but instead has become associated
with some sort of perceived superiority, especially in relation to race. This is
a little curious since nobody, not even albinos, have pure white skin.
Nevertheless such beliefs have caused endless oppression and misery down
the years.

White entered western consciousness long ago, when the Bible used it to
describe holiness, honour and innocence. Elsewhere, priests of many
different traditions, including the ancient Egyptians, often wore pure white
linen robes, while the rest of the congregation wore undyed and natural
shades. The difference between lightest and darkest soon took on secular as
well as spiritual significance.

Yet it would be a mistake to think that white only means positive things. To
whitewash something means to hide or disguise the truth, while a ‘white out’
has a lot in common with the loss of consciousness in a black out, except that
in a white out the colour vision is lost just beforehand. A white-out may also
describe blizzards so fierce that we cannot see anything.

In western Europe, as we have already noted, many white spring flowers

were traditionally considered not only unlucky but potentially lethal,
especially if they were brought indoors. These are collectively known as
‘Mother-Die’ plants and I suspect their ill-associations stem from the need to
suppress a much earlier, pagan practice of bringing such flowers into the
home.

Since these were usually the flowers of late spring and early summer, I
believe the practice was intended to honour the Divine Feminine and the life
force. Hence the inversion of the myth so that the Secular Feminine (i.e. the
mother of the household) died and thus the life force of the family was then
lost.
Then there is White Magic. Widely thought to be somehow harmless,
people are often labelled as either White Witches or Black ones. Yet to those
who actually practice magic, this distinction is meaningless since there is no
such thing as a white (i.e. harmless) or black (i.e. harmful) witch, there is
only intention behind each spell. A witch is a witch, just as a human being is
a human being. Witches may be short or tall, kind or cruel, jolly or
melancholy, but not ‘black’ or ‘white.’

Like the colour black, white is associated with death, especially in India and
the far East where white clothes are often worn when in mourning. White is
also associated with both war and peace. In the ancient world, the term
‘white armed’ meant honourable behaviour in battle while in modern Europe
and the US white is often associated with truces and surrendering.

The Peace Pledge Union sells white poppies for Remembrance Day (we used
to know it as Armistice Day) – in order to challenge the endless wars across
the world, and to encourage politicians to negotiate first and foremost.

The image of the white dove of peace is a potent one, and yet it was curiously
subverted during World War I with The Order of the White Feather, which
tried (and unfortunately often succeeded) to shame young men into enlisting
by presenting them with a white feather. This cruel accusation of cowardice
(it was even handed out to men returning home from the war on leave) was
often presented by old men and young women who were never going to enter
the trenches themselves.

Of course, white feathers are also sometimes believed to indicate the presence
of angels. This is probably outside the scope of Knot Magic, although it does
show that white – the ultimate light - is connected with other worlds (it was
also traditionally associated with fairies.)
Other Colours and Metallics
There are many other colours not listed above, such as pink, orange, peach,
lilac etc. However, these are all mixtures and could be said to include the
properties of each colour used in their creation.

Metals are slightly different. Some, such as gold and silver have a long and
important tradition within magic where they represent various
correspondences with planets and matters astrological. Metallic threads such
as silver, have been used in expensive tapestries for centuries, but have the
disadvantage of blackening with age which changes their appearance
considerably.

Although in the next chapter I deal with deliberately changing colours as part
of a Knot Magic charm, I feel that the changes brought about by oxidisation
are going to be much more difficult to control and should be avoided. Much
the same also applies to copper and brass.

Synthetic metallic colours however can be used to symbolise the magical

properties of the original, although it becomes difficult to differentiate
between brass, say, and gold colours, or silver and platinum, oxidised silver
and iron or even copper and rose gold. Therefore if we use a metallic thread
we should be very clear in our minds exactly what it is going to represent
since it does not contain the properties of the original metal.

Traditionally gold colours were associated with the sun and silver with the
moon, while both silver and iron had strong protective qualities. This can be
useful if we want to construct a spell where the cord is going to be worn
(around the neck or wrist) afterwards. This is often the case in spells for
healing or protection.
Single coloured and Multi-coloured threads
Sometimes a single colour will not completely suit the spell intention, and
then we should certainly consider adding another coloured cord. However
we do have to be sensible and resist the temptation to use too many. The
other temptation of course is to cheat a bit, perhaps by using the three
primary colours of blue, red and yellow in the belief that this will somehow
combine not only the properties of each colour, but also all the colours that
can be mixed from them.

In theory although this should work, not all reds, blues and yellows can
render all other colours. Only certain hues are true primary colours. Mixed
badly, even red, yellow and blue can end up producing a muddy looking
mess.

Of course, using the primary colours simply in order to avoid thinking for
ourselves would be plain lazy, and our magic deserves better than this. This
is why I stress using colour associations that have personal meanings for us.
Something happens in the mind when we use a colour or knot that evokes
real memories or emotions. And whatever it is that happens is then easily
absorbed into our magical intention and projected via our will.
However, in spite of all my caution about too many colours, it is true that
using multi-coloured threads is a time honoured tradition in many parts of the
world. For example, by the late Egyptian period, we find magical instructions
such as ‘...take a band of linen of one hundred and fifty six threads, four of
white, four of green, four of blue, four of red and make them into one
band…’ (Bonser 1925:197).

This shows how long ago the idea of working with many different colours
was developing although personally I think a hundred and fifty six threads is
definitely over-egging the pudding somewhat!

Being practical here, a hundred and fifty six threads, even if these were just
sewing cotton, could present some real difficulties when it came to tying the
knots! I suspect that the band in this particular spell must have been woven
rather than knotted. And of course, whatever method we choose for our Knot
Magic, we should always practice first before casting our spell. Proper
preparations will avoid us getting into a mess half way through.
Luckily we don’t need to worry how the coloured threads will look, since this
is a spell and not a fashion parade. However we might want to consider how
different types of thread, e.g. natural and man-made will actually tie
together. Some can be too slippery to handle reliably while others will cling
to each other and make rumpled, uneven knots.

Don’t worry if, by now your head is reeling with all the contradictory
meanings for colour in this chapter. The important thing is that we should
always use colours that have meaning for us, and the symbolism suggested
here is only intended as a starting point.

Always remember there is no one-size-fits-all in magic. This is likely to be

the main reason why spell books often can’t give us the results we hope for.
Don’t misunderstand me, spell books are not wrong, per se, but at the end of
the day, magic is a very personal thing.

Sometimes it takes time to work through our own responses to colours and
cords and we cannot shirk this. It’s one thing not to know where to start, but
quite another if we are just too lazy to make the effort even when we know
what we should be doing!

Spells – whether we use Knot Magic or any other method – are very personal
things indeed.
 Chapter Six
Changing colours
Magic is a great bringer of change. It is important therefore, especially
during our early preparations for magical work, to really get to grips with the
nature of the changes we hope to bring about. Often change is not all it
seems. For example, we have already seen that there are some colours such
as green, that are associated with growth. Received wisdom usually tells us
that growth is ‘a good thing’ and no doubt about it. Therefore nobody in
their right minds would ever wish to change a green thread to something
else... or would they?

Well, yes and no. Just about everything has a dual aspect and growth is no
exception. Yes, it may be a good thing to ‘grow’ more money or health or
even tomato plants, but what about cancer spells or infections? They can
grow too. Therefore reducing growth can indeed be a positive spell intention,
and we should never automatically associate it with hexing or negativity.

In this chapter I want to look at how we can change colours, either by adding
them or by washing them out. Inks etc., can be useful in magic, especially
when used in conjunction with the ‘Just as... so may...’ approach. This is
because they can physically show us the change we wish to bring about
magically. As a word of caution though, changing colours should be used
with restraint. It should always be a helper and never our master. Otherwise
it will become a distraction, which is something we can really do without in
our magic!

So at this point we need to start making a list in our notebook or Magical

Journal of changes that can work for or against something. We could start
with the growth example given above, and see how many we can find. There
will be more than we might expect.

Next we must think what we could say or think as part of the spell for these
types of change. For example, if we wish to reduce growth then we could
home dye a red thread, knot it and then rinse the colour out again, while
saying something like,

‘Just as the colour of this knotted thread is removed (or changed to

white/cream), so may [Name]’s infection be soothed and calmed.’

If we want to increase growth, then we dip a pale cord in green ink, while
saying,

‘Just as this thread turns to green so may ... grow.’

The idea here is that as we are looking at the physical change, so we

concentrate our will and intention upon the magical change we’re trying to
bring about. The colour – whether added in or washed out - acts solely as a
prompt to strengthen what we are trying to do. It is not necessarily magical
in its own right.

People often look at me as though I have gone slightly mad when I suggest
using ink in order to change colours during the course of a knot spell. It
works, they remind me, only due to a chemical process and not because I
have waved my magic wand and shouted ‘abracadabra!’

Well, yes, this is true (apart from me waving a magic wand). Yet there is
something about the physical change that is magical. And of course it’s not
just ink that will change colours - I well remember when I was a child,
watching my mother bleach some rather grubby dishcloths. I really thought I
was witnessing magic, the way they ended up looking like new. And of
course in a way I was. Of course, scientists will point out that most
household bleach contains sodium hypochlorite, which removes colour
(along with stains) but as far as I was concerned, what I was actually seeing
was change. And both magic and chemistry are really all about change.
Transformation.

Of course we could still use household bleach in our magic if we wished, but
I feel there are already quite enough chemicals spewing into the environment
without our adding to them. Yes, it would take only a spoonful or two, but
why bother when other methods are available? The methods I will suggest
here may be more fiddly, but they are also safer to use.

When we cast spells using Knot Magic, the magical transformation takes
place at the moment of tying. Often we miss this, being so busy concentrating
on actually tying the knot and focusing on our intention. So by creating an
obvious visible change as we work our magic, we are reinforcing the spell
and helping preserve our magical focus.

For this to happen however, the change of state must be absolutely clear,
predictable and reliable. We cannot start messing around trying to get
something to change while still mentally hanging onto our magical intention.
This will not work. At best all we will end up with is a sort of magical soup,
which is no use to anyone.

What we are going to use in order to make the cord change colour is non-
permanent ink or water based paint. The method will not work with
permanent inks or with acrylic paint if it is allowed to dry, so do check the
labels and experiment before starting the spell.

Method Number One

Take a piece of natural, un-dyed cotton thread. This takes colour more
reliably than anything synthetic. If we decide to use man-made threads it is
even more important to practise before casting our spell. We might need to
dilute the ink or dampen the threads slightly first.

Concentrating on our intention, we should tie the required number of knots in

the dry cord. (Really wet cords are never very pleasant to work with.)

Next we dip the thread into the ink or paint (with paint it’s easier if we mix a
little up in a small dish or saucer), explaining as we do so that the colour we
have chosen represents growth, anger, love etc.

Then drop the knotted cord – still wet – into a dish of cold clean water or
even hold it under a running tap. This will draw out or wash away most of
the dye, representing loss or change of growth, etc. We could add some
Oxygen (Oxy) bleach to the bowl of clean water, but this will not remove
colour in the same way that ordinary household bleach does. On the other
hand, it’s not so toxic either.

Method Number Two

If we really feel our spell must use household bleach, then we have to
observe basic safety precautions. Use no more than about a tablespoonful
mixed only with the same amount of clean water. Do not be tempted to add
anything else since this can set up an unpleasant chemical reaction. Try and
avoid touching the bleach, using tongs, rubber gloves or even old chopsticks
to pick up the thread afterwards.

Method Number Three

The opposite colour change is to use a white or undyed cord and add colour
by dipping it in ink, paint or food colouring. All we have to do is change the
colour, allow it to dry and use it as it is. Once it is dry we can go ahead with
the spell and the knot tying as normal.

Since we are not going to try and change the colour back again, it doesn’t
matter what sort of ink we use, although we will get the best results if we
begin with a pale, preferably white thread. Ink is better absorbed than paint
and considerably less messy to work with in this instance. Be careful
however, because some cords and threads absorb colour better than others.
A hard nylon rope for example, may not absorb anything at all. So yet again,
preparation is the key. Experiment. Test things out. And write it down!

When we change the colour of a cord in Knot Magic, we are essentially using
either performative intention (‘with this colour/water, I do etc.’) or the ‘Just
as... so may...’ formula. So we might choose something like, ‘Just as I wash
this cord in clean, running water, so may (Name’s) doubts be washed away
and she may recover her self confidence.’

Keeping spells under control

All magic creates change, either through our own efforts to change our outer
world, or by working its change upon us. Sometimes we manage to do a bit
of both. One thing we should not do however is to become so immersed in
magic that we lose sight of everyday reality. We have to strive for balance.
Think of it as learning to navigate properly instead of allowing ourselves to
simply drift about in a magical storm. Spells should always be kept under
control.

One of the surest ways to lose control is to allow ourselves to become

distracted. This is why it can be useful – especially in the early days or when
trying a new type of spell intention – to use physical changes to represent the
changes we hope to bring about with our magic. Bleaching or washing out
colour is not magic – but it shows very clearly what we are trying to do and
this helps us stay focussed. And the more we can stay focussed, the less
likely we are to be distracted, and this in turn helps us stay in control of our
spell.

Of course, unlike physical changes which are relatively reliable, magical

change occurs in accordance with the will and inner strength of the person
performing the spell. This varies, not only from one person to another, but
even from one spell to another. Partly this is due to experience. As we gain
experience, so we become more confident. Magic has a curious tendency to
misbehave when we fumble!

The weakest point of our spell is the point at which our intention challenges
the status quo. We know what we want to achieve, but at that precise
moment we have to leap across the divide between what is, and what we want
to achieve with our magic. Distractions – such as sudden self doubt - can
send the intention spiralling off in a different direction from what we
intended, or weaken it so much it cannot go anywhere at all.

The answer lies in preparation rather than trusting to luck. When I was
young and used to sit my music examinations, I often wondered why my old
teacher never wished me luck. One day she explained, ‘If you practise then
you don’t need luck.’ And although I don’t entirely agree (since a little luck
is always agreeable after all), I can understand what she meant. All too often
people trust to luck rather than putting in the necessary work.

So here we need to be honest with ourselves. Are we the sort of person who
has the attention span of a goldfish, or can we continue what we’re doing,
regardless of the chaos and mayhem around us? Some people are more easily
distracted than others, but most of us fall somewhere in the middle. And
some distractions are definitely easier to handle than others.
This is when we need to remind ourselves that it’s not selfish to want to put
ourselves and our rituals first. We don’t perform rituals all day, every day
after all. At most they take up less than fifteen minutes. We are entitled to
claim that time for ourselves. The phone is an obvious culprit. Switch it off
or unplug it. If we are waiting for an important call then we should delay our
ritual until we’ve dealt with it.

The same applies to visitors. I often warn everyone I think might possibly
call, visit or email me that I will be unavailable for the next hour or so.
However, since I have the social life of a mole, I am not normally bothered
by too many distractions. And do, please, shut down the computer – far too
many people try to cast spells with one eye on what they’re doing and the
other on Facebook or Twitter!

Magic eventually becomes not only a way of doing things but also a way of
seeing, of being, thinking and living. It should run through us like letters
running through a stick of rock. That is why – strange though it seems – the
better we become at magic, the less we need to do it.

Because, in the end, we will have become the magic.

 Chapter Seven
The Practical Framework of Knot Magic
Whereas many magical systems require various tools, incense, magical
correspondences etc., Knot Magic has only one practical requirement:
something in which we can tie at least one knot. This can be anything from
soft bark, rope or parcel string to embroidery thread. Often people prefer to
work with just one type of cord or thread, either because it’s easily
obtainable, or because they feel comfortable with it, and they know just how
much cord is needed for certain numbers of knots.

For Knot Magic, just as in any type of knot tying, the basic rule is that the
more knots there are, the longer the cord needs to be. And thick cords must
be longer than thin ones, even when tying the same number of knots.
Therefore unless we’re content to stick with the same number of knots in the
same type of cord, we need to practice before casting a spell where we’ve
made changes. This is just common sense. There’s nothing worse than
starting a spell, making a start and then finding we’ve run out of cord for
some of the knots we meant to tie!

While using the same cord with the same number of knots all the time works
very well for some, other, more adventurous individuals may prefer to
experiment with all sorts of different cords. This option does require more
work since each time we change the type of knot, cord or number of knots,
we need to practice. Every cord, every knot, has its own unique
characteristics and qualities.

Never believe that practising weakens a spell. I have heard this suggested
several times, although I’ve no idea where the idea comes from. In most
walks of life practice makes us more skilled, not less. Few people would
dream of entering a marathon without some training first, and by the same
token casting a spell using Knot Magic (or any other magical method) also
requires practice.
We should also ensure we have everything to hand before we start. I know
only too well from my own early experiences that nothing interrupts the
rhythm of a spell more than having to break off and search for things! Make
a note on your practice run of everything you’ll need, taking nothing for
granted.

Some people like to have the cord ready cut before they start, others prefer to
incorporate the cutting into the spell. If you decide on the latter there are
suggestions for cutting the cord as part of the spell in Chapter Nine.

To speak or not to speak?

Some people – myself included – like to carry our spells in our heads. As I
get older, I may do a bit of muttering from time to time, but mostly I’m
silent. Others may perform some spells in their heads, and others aloud.
Still others prefer always to have something to say, perhaps because we’ve
been conditioned to think of spells and charms as ‘utterances’, i.e. things to
be spoken aloud. If this makes us feel more comfortable, then fine, we
should do it. But what do we actually say?

I find that being a solitary I only have a certain amount of energy at my

disposal, so I like to concentrate this on the matter in hand. This means when
I tie a knot as part of a spell, I tell myself what I am doing as succinctly as
possible. This helps me to focus and gets the spell moving along. Therefore
much of what I say is in fact a magical narrative.

For example: With this knot I bind unto [Name] the gift of good health.

Binding spells tend to be viewed rather negatively these days, although there
is no reason why binding cannot have a positive intention. The important
word in the above utterance is ‘good.’ Health, as we know, can be good, bad
or indifferent, and we certainly wouldn’t (I hope) wish to bind poor health to
anyone.

Spells and Reflective Writing

The main difference between reflective work and spells is our old friend,
intention. When I work on my reflective writing – which is often just a
practice run for a later spell or invocation – then I have no intention of
sending it off into the Great Beyond. I lack any will to make it do anything.
I am – at that stage anyway – just creating a reflection of a particular
situation. I chew it over, think upon it, write about it, sometimes over a
period of days, but that’s all. Later I may decide to incorporate some or all of
this into a spell, but in the early stages at least, I keep my spells and
reflections quite separate.

So why bother with reflective writing at all? Well, for me one of its great
advantages is that it allows me to experiment not only with the spell
intention, but also in how I set it out. It gives me time to ponder a situation in
order to find the best way of dealing with it. And it gives me the opportunity
to experiment with rhymes and rhythms in the way that a straightforward
spell cannot.

So yes, I will happily write rhyming meditations, invocations to the seasons

etc., but this is almost always reflective work, rather than a spell in its own
right. Reflective work gives me more leeway to explore themes and ideas,
without worrying whether I’ve created a spell that will miss its mark or have
unfortunate consequences.

If, eventually, I decide that my reflective work – with or without rhymes – is

suitable for my spell, then I’ll use it. But I never set out to make a spell
rhyme for its own sake. Unfortunately nowadays, people have been made to
believe that all (or most) spells should rhyme. This would be fine if it meant
that we ended up with a great spell and great poetry. Or even a great spell
and awful poetry. But all too often what we end up with is a poor spell and
dismal poetry. And our magic deserves so much better than that.

The problem with trying to write rhyming spells, especially if we are just
setting out, is that we become intoxicated by the rhyme and forget our
magical intention. For example, I know some people who believe that saying
things like, ‘By the power of one, this spell’s begun, By the power of two I’ll
send it to you...’ is extremely witchy and powerful.

When asked why this should be so, however, they cannot explain it, because
let’s face it, it’s not all that different from the old counting song, ‘This old
man, he played one, he played knick-knack on my thumb,’ etc. We might as
well be reciting our times tables and singing ‘Da-da de-dah’ as we go along.

You see, the big problem with a rhyming couplet (where one line rhymes
with the next, in an AA, BB, CC etc., pattern) is that we become so caught up
with forcing things to rhyme that everything else – including our spell
intention - goes out of the window. I know. I’ve done it myself.

Of course there is nothing wrong with rhyming couplets in experienced

hands. The poet John Clare wrote in that style almost exclusively though he
didn’t (as far as I know) cast spells. However the problem where magic is
concerned is that because the lines rhyme one after another, they trick us into
thinking they must be powerful. In fact a rhyming spell is no more – and
often a good deal less - potent than a simple statement. If we feel called to
study prosody (which means the writing of verse) it’s worth reading a good
modern book on the subject.

Of course, not all rhymes are bad and sometimes the rhythm helps drive a
spell along, but this should never be done at the expense of meaning and
will. And this takes time and understanding. If I need to write a spell, I can
take several days working out exactly what I want to say and how I want to
say it, so that every stressed syllable and every single knot is made to count!

What a spell must always do, whether or not it rhymes, is to express our
intention clearly and unambiguously. Nothing more – but certainly nothing
less.

Useful Utterances...
There are several useful statements that can easily be incorporated into our
spells without losing any of the essential intention. For example, ‘By (or
‘with’) this knot may...’ is not only handy but also memorable. Some prefer
‘By the power of this knot may...’ and in both examples we can then launch
straight into the intention without further ado. The statement can be said each
time we tie a knot, and nothing about it needs to rhyme.

However, even though these statements are simple and direct, a certain
amount of preparation is still necessary. In particular we should always know
what we’re going to say beforehand since tying and tightening a knot are
relatively quick actions, and we don’t want to be rambling on after tying each
knot. Nor do we want to change our minds or dither!

All we need to do is plan in advance what each knot represents, distil it down
into a single, clear sentence, and then insert it into the spell. And if we’re not
sure whether we’ll be able to remember, then we just write it down and read
it when the time comes.

At this point it is worth taking a moment to understand what a spell is, and
what it is not. A spell is an action intended to bend the laws of chance. This
is no easy undertaking and should never be attempted lightly and certainly
not in a temper! Yet it’s surprising how many people turn to magic in anger,
when in fact that’s the very last thing they should be doing. Magic cast in
anger – even a hex - rarely does what it’s supposed to!

To give ourselves the best chance of success we need to make sure our
intention is clear and focused and our will is not distracted. Our focus should
always be on what we’re trying to achieve and not what we’re trying to
prevent. ‘Don’t let XYZ happen’ is nowhere near as powerful, or as clear as
‘Make (or ‘May’) XYZ happen.’

In practical terms therefore if we’re casting a healing spell then our intention
is to make people better and not to stop them from being ill. With a spell to
help us find a new job, focus on what we want rather than our desire not to be
unemployed any more. This is a subtle, but important difference and people
often misunderstand and misuse it.

Sometimes we may decide to give each knot the same intention. This works
by reinforcing the first knot, and building up its power. Personally I would
recommend a maximum of three knots for the same intention because it is so
difficult to hold our focus over more than that. However, if you are one of
those people who finds this easy, then go ahead and build on it! The best
magic always uses our own, personal talents, not what someone else tells us
we should be doing.

Another method is to tie each knot so that it represents a slightly different

aspect of the same intention. Although this allows us to tie more knots, we
still should aim for no more than nine. If we feel that nine knots is not
enough, then the whole spell probably needs a good deal more thought and
preparation.

However, there is nothing to say we could not tie a string of seven knots, and
then repeat this exactly so that we have two strings of seven knots, with two
knots for each exact same intention. With this we end up with two knots for
each of seven intentions (not a single knot for each of fourteen different
intentions.) I have done this on rare occasions and it has always worked well
for me, especially if I feel that I need to put extra force into the seven
intentions. It is not something I make a habit of however.

Another possibility is to tie several knots, each with a slightly different aspect
of the same intention (as a rule of thumb it’s best to have one distinct
intention per spell). Each knot is similar to its companions, and each works
to build up the overall intention. Never be tempted to cram too much detail
into a spell, since the simpler it is, the easier it is for us to pay full attention to
what we’re doing and to stay in control.

For example, for healing, we could have Knot (1) to reduce pain, Knot (2) to
reduce fever and Knot (3) to reduce inflammation. Of course each one
should relate to the same patient!

As regards our will, this is best released as we’re tying the knots in order to
drive our intention forward and away from us towards the focus of our spell.
Personally I always work by breathing out as I tighten the knot in order to
literally blow the spell on its way.

Breathing out when we tie our knots need not interfere with actually saying
anything during the spell, provided of course, that we don’t try to do it while
speaking. (You would be surprised how many people do!) The best method
is to say what we have to while tying the knot slowly and then, as we tighten
it, to breathe out in a long, steady stream. It’s worth practising this method a
few times before we need it. Then, when the time comes to cast the spell we
know exactly how it should go, which makes us feel more confident about it.

What we choose to say as we tie that first knot is up to us, but at the very
least it should express our overall intention. ‘Heal [Name]’ or ‘May [Name]
be healed,’ is simple and straightforward. Admittedly it doesn’t rhyme, but
it is far better than , ‘By the power of one (or ‘knot number one’ or, indeed,
anything else with ‘one’ in it!), this spell’s begun.’ Never waste a knot.

Another method is to say, ‘By the power of this knot, may [Name] be
healed, ’ or even ‘With the tying of this knot may [Name] be healed,’ which
is quite a decent example of performative intention. (And in case you’ve
forgotten what performative intention is, think of, ‘With this ring I thee wed.’
That’s performative intention!)

As I said earlier, we can either tie three knots with exactly the same intention,
or three knots with very similar intention. For example:

1. By the power of this knot (or With this knot...) may [Name] be well again

2. May his/her temperature return to normal

3. May his/her wound heal quickly and without infection

Some people like to repeat the first line again at the end of the spell, in which
case we will need a fourth knot. Others prefer tying three knots rather than
four, believing it is somehow more ‘magical’. This is really a matter for
personal choice, but if we feel this way then either drop line two or three and
repeat line one, or leave out the repetition of line one altogether.

The types of cord...

There are a handful of times when the type of material used for tying a knot
plays an important role in our spell. For example, it was once widely
believed that if one’s right cheek (or sometimes one’s ear) was burning, then
someone was praising us. If it was the left cheek (or ear) that was affected
however, then we were being slandered. In Cornwall the ‘cure’ for this was
to tie a knot in an apron string which would make the slanderer bite his or her
own tongue (Courtney 1887:219). So perhaps we should always have an
apron handy, just in case we start noticing tingling around our left cheek or
ear!
On slightly more serious note, although most of us would probably opt for
string, twine or rope made of natural fibres, other materials including ribbons,
bandages, handkerchiefs, napkins and towels have all at some time been used
for tying knots. Although modern towels might seem too thick and unwieldy,
until well into the twentieth century many people were still using thin huck
linen or huckaback towels. These could range from relatively coarse to
beautiful woven damask style patterns, depending on one’s budget. It would
certainly be possible to tie a knot or two in such a towel!

Some cords are undeniably easier to work with than others. Plain white
parcel string is relatively well behaved, as is jute, although embroidery
threads can slither about a bit. Try and avoid using untested types of cord for
the first time in any spell. Always practise first – it pays off in the long term.

If we intend tying a knot in hair then we should check the strand is long
enough. A single strand can carry a few knots, although they should not be
pulled too tight since although hair can stretch up to a point, a single hair can
also break easily. One solution is to lie the hair alongside a stronger thread
and then tie the knot in both hair and thread simultaneously. Usually this is
best done as a single-knot spell, although if the hair is long enough we might
be able to tie several.

Hair is particularly useful in healing spells, since it carries some of the natural
essence or magnetism of the patient. For much the same reason hair has also
been a popular vehicle for hexing spells. Years ago women with long hair
often kept ‘hair tidies’ on their dressing tables. These small pots, with a
circular hole in the lid, were used for storing hair from brushes and clothes
until they could be properly disposed of.

Of course, hair tidies are no deterrent to a really determined hexer, as can be

seen in the fifteenth century trial of Elenor Cobham, Duchess of Gloucester
who was accused of conspiring with Margery Jourden, the so-called ‘Witch
of Eye’ and others to magically harm King Henry VI. At her trial, Elenor
apparently stated:

Oh, that I were a witch but for her sake,

I'faith her queenship little rest should take:
 I'd scratch that face that may not feel the air,
And knit whole ropes of witch-knots in her hair
(Eng. Heroic. Epis. [i. 302]. (and The Folklore of Drayton Part III 1884: 360)

Although it is unlikely Elenor defended herself in verse, the story does

suggest that tying ‘witch knots’ in hair was a well known magical practice at
the time. Unfortunately we don’t know exactly what a witch knot was, and it
might have varied over place and time. Possibly, rather than being a specific
type of knot, it was no more than any knot tied by someone claiming to be a
witch.

This poem does raise a query with me, however. Certainly there was a
tradition of tying three, seven or even nine knots in a bride’s hair, although
these were usually done for good luck. Such ‘knots’ must surely have been a
type of plaiting rather than a permanent knot, since hair must at some point
be combed or brushed (otherwise the knots have to be cut out, which is
unsightly).

However, if witch-knots were a type of plaiting, then why did Elenor say she
would ‘knit whole ropes of them’? Knitting implies the use of needles so
perhaps years ago these were used in hair plaiting. Whether she was
referring to the type of simple plait we recognise nowadays, or whether it was
something altogether different and more decorative is impossible to say.
Anyone who is inclined towards such magic can only be advised to
experiment!

There are some advantages to plaiting hair as a part of a Knot Magic spell.
We do not have to cut it off in order to tie a knot in it although we would
normally need to ask permission before plaiting it. That said of course, it is
possible to have someone’s permission to physically do something when
mentally and magically we are doing something quite different. So perhaps
we should not allow others to plait our hair unless we truly trust them (and I
speak here as someone whose own hair reaches almost to her waist).

Since plaits are usually going to be untied at some point, this makes them
ideal for temporary intentions, perhaps for help with a job interview or
something similar. Dreadlocks however, which are not intended to be
undone may be used for more permanent spells.

Knitting the Knots... (and other methods)

Knitting is an excellent way to cast spells using Knot Magic if we don’t have
much privacy. The same applies to crochet, macramé and even embroidery.
Actually it’s surprising how often embroidery uses French knots, especially
for flower centres, and the stitch even turns up in some cross stitch
samplers! Even if we can work alone whenever we want, it’s still worth
giving this method a try. We never know when it can come in useful.

Best of all we don’t have to be experts at knitting, crochet, or embroidery etc.

in order to try this. A small knitted square to serve as a pot holder or
dishcloth, a tiny piece of cross stitch in a frame, or a handkerchief with a
single embroidered flower or initial for example, can incorporate a series of
blessings and be given as a gift.

Initials can be especially powerful symbols when incorporated into this type
of spell. Although they would not normally be sewn in French knots, (satin
stitch or even chain stitch would be more appropriate) they can still be
surrounded by ‘dots’ which are just French knots placed here and there. The
number of knots of course, could also have magical significance as outlined
in Chapter Ten.

If we are skilled at any of these crafts, however, then the sky really is the
limit for this type of work and we can create powerful spells that we can
actually wear or carry around with us. Also there are a wide range of
threads, yarns and beads that we can work with.

For example, if we choose a fluffy yarn such as mohair, then any knot we tie
or knit etc., may ‘disappear’ into the overall fluffiness. This isn’t always a
bad thing of course and can be incorporated into a suitable spell intention.
For example, we could use mohair or brushed yarns when we wished to cast a
spell to hide or conceal something or someone. Likewise smooth threads can
be used to ensure certain things – journeys or examinations perhaps – go
smoothly.

Knitted Knot Magic does tend to attract the rather ambitious spell casters.
After all, knitting even the most modest garment will create hundreds if not
thousands of knots (which is after all, what a stitch really is). It would be
impossible to incorporate a spell into each and every stitch, and we would
probably give ourselves some sort of breakdown if we tried.

However, it is quite possible to perform a spell over a small, precise group of

stitches, perhaps knitted or embroidered specially for the magical intention.
There is a long established tradition in some cultures of either breathing on
the knot to ‘set’ it, or even spitting on it.

Why spitting and breathing? Well, both saliva and breath come from within,
and therefore carry some of our essential self that will create a link between
our will and intention on the one hand, and the cord (or wool) and the knot on
the other.

For most of us breathing would probably be more acceptable than spitting.

However, if we are casting the spell in private (which, let’s face it, is how
most of us do it) and if the finished piece is not intended to be worn, then we
should feel quite free to spit if we prefer. After all, it is our spell.

I usually breathe on a group of stitches rather than on each stitch as I knit or

crochet it and this is a method that would suit a beginner, or someone
working on a large item. We shouldn’t be put off because we need to find
our group of stitches in a larger piece of work, there are plenty of methods to
get around this. For example, we can buy plastic stitch markers or use
coloured threads to mark the group, or even concentrate on distinct panels or
types of stitch. I’ve always liked using bobble stitches, the sort found in Aran
jumpers.

A group may also be marked by the addition, say of a single strand of hair,
knitted or crocheted etc., into the stitches. Almost invisible to the onlooker
unless they know it’s there, but very powerful nevertheless.

One word of advice however. If we plan to incorporate a spell into a larger

garment, we need to be organised. Due to the nature of knitting, with the
back of most adult garments in double knit requiring about 100 stitches
across, if we focus on say, just nine of these stitches, we still have to knit
across the rest of the row and back again before recommencing the spell.

My own solution for this is to knit as normal, while thinking about the spell
intention, but to break off from time to time and breathe on the stitches which
will then ‘set’ our intention, while using our will to send the spell on its way.
This method can be used on just about any knitted piece, though larger ones,
which may take several weeks to complete will require more concentration
and magical effort. Still, it can be done!

This method is also useful if knitting Fair Isle patterns or Aran, where certain
stitches, colours or cables will be easily visible as reminders that we need to
pause and ‘set’ the spell.

Alternatively – and this is a good method for more monotonous knitting such
as garter or stocking stitch, where every stitch looks pretty much like all the
rest – we can simply time ourselves, perhaps pausing every twenty minutes.
Either set an alarm or make a note of the time we start and need to finish.
This is a useful method for any plain knitted garments, or macramé or crochet
that use the same stitches over and over again.

The beauty of this method is that it appears perfectly natural to pause and
look at our work, and we don’t have to be fanatical about the timing. Often
people complain they cannot cast a spell because they have no privacy. Yet
there are always ways and means to avoid drawing attention to ourselves if
we use a little imagination! And imagination, after all, is a huge part of
magic.

If we decide to cast the spell as we work rather than pausing to fix the spell
on a small group of already-knitted stitches, the we should remember to
gather our thoughts and concentrate as we work across each row and
approach our chosen group. Sometimes it helps to steady and prepare
ourselves with a couple of deep breaths a few stitches before we reach the
group.

Creating a fringe is another method of decorative knotting that lends itself

very well to Knot Magic because it is easy and reliable. Fringes can be added
to all sorts of garments and accessories, making it ideal when we would like
to keep the knot work close to us (or indeed to someone else if the spell is for
them). Tying a fringe also allows us to experiment with the magical
symbolism of colour, which adds an extra dimension to our work.

The simplest fringes are usually tied like a cow hitch knot or a lark’s head
(see Chapter One) . They are simple to tie and unobtrusive on just about any
knitted or crocheted project. Of course, the larger the project, the more fringe
knots we will need, so it’s best to concentrate on just a few for the purposes
of our spell.

The spell is cast... now what?

Generally speaking, after casting a spell using Knot Magic, we should either
cast the string into running water, burn or bury it. This is to set the magic
free, and there’s a very good argument for this, since then the spell is free to
do its work. What we are trying to avoid is the risk that by constantly
thinking about it, the spell is held back or worse, returns with unexpected
(and unwanted) results.

However, there are times when we really do need to hold our magic close
and then getting rid of our knotted cord could be detrimental to the spell.
Protective or healing magic, for example, often works best when the person
or object being protected can keep the knot close in some way, or even wear
it. Traditionally knotted cords were often worn around the neck or wrist.

The easiest way to keep Knot Magic close is either to incorporate the knots
into a garment (i.e. knitting, crochet, macramé etc.,) or to perform the magic
when tying the sort of knot that usually goes unnoticed, such as a scarf, tie,
cravat or belt. These are easy to tie, and don’t always even need to be
undone when we take them off, just loosened so that the integrity of the
magic can remain intact.

If we choose a scarf or tie as the vehicle for our Knot Magic, then we can
further enhance the spell using either a tie-pin or brooch. These not only add
some symbolism due to their shape and colour but may also have sentimental
meaning for the wearer. Often it is the simplest things that help us maintain
focus and generally help the spell along.
If necessary, we can always re-affirm our spells by touching the knot and
casting the spell again. Purists might frown, insisting that spells only need to
be performed once, which is true up to a point. However, there are times we
need comfort and reassurance, and feeling oneself surrounded by a magically
enhanced scarf or garment can help empower us and increase our self
confidence.

Storing magical supplies

Unless we cast spells regularly, it is all too easy to lose the cords, beads,
threads etc that we thought we had safely set aside. In my experience,
whenever they’re needed they seem to have disappeared into a black hole! It
is important therefore to keep our ‘magical supplies’ together in a box, tin or
bag, specially kept for the purpose and labelled if necessary.

Years ago, sellers of winds often stored ready knotted strings in special bags
and even sacks. The latter were presumably used for the much larger
working ropes, such as those used on ships. For anyone in the business of
selling knots for weather magic, then it may well have been sensible to keep
certain types of cord together. It might even have been intended to impress
the customers!

However, most of us do not need to keep pre-knotted strings at the ready,

since we rarely need to cast exactly the same spell twice. Also circumstances
may have shifted slightly since the original cord was tied, making it
unsuitable for the new spell. I have never been a fan of the ‘one size fits all’
school of magical thought, preferring to work on each magical problem
separately instead.

So why was there ever a tradition of pre-tying the strings? What was the
point? The more cynical of course might say there was never any magic in
the cords, and having them ‘prepared’ in advance meant that nobody could
witness how they were made.

Yet there is another explanation. In weather magic, the knots have to be

untied by the person who has bought them. This sets free whatever was
bound into the original knot, e.g. the wind. The winds were sold as
commodities, fully-empowered, so having them ready to sell must have made
sense in busy ports. They could be easily prepared in advance during quiet
periods and then sold when the boats docked and the sailors came ashore.

This is the opposite of most modern Knot Magic, where the knots are usually
supposed to remain tied. So yes, if we decide to concentrate on wind knots,
(or indeed any other knot that must be later untied) then it could indeed make
sense to create a batch and keep them ready to use.

But for the rest of us – just keep the cords, beads etc. handy, and worry about
tying them only when we need them!
 Chapter Eight
Nets and netting
Nets and netting are basically an abundance of simple knots tied repeatedly
over a series of cords. Although nowadays we tend to think of them only for
catching fish, nets have many other uses. They can be made of the finest
threads (including real gold and silver) and have, over the years been used
decoratively in clothing and jewellery and even as dream catchers!

Nets can also be made of steel wire. These were often used in World War I
to trap submarines. When I was a child we had some examples of submarine
knots at home, but unfortunately nobody seemed to know much about them,
other than that my grandfather’s firm had made them during World War I.
Yet the story of these submarine nets is worth exploring briefly here.

Ships were always vulnerable to attack when moored in ports and harbours,
and so barriers were often trailed across and even under the water, in order to
prevent fire ships etc., from reaching them. During the American War of
Independence in the late eighteenth century, a heavy iron chain barrier was
stretched across the Hudson River at West Point to prevent the British navy
from getting through.

Unfortunately, it was soon realised that chains and barriers often broke,
meaning they were at best a delaying measure. By World War I most naval
commanders realised that it was now submarines rather than fire ships that
presented the greatest threat to fleets resting at port. The solution, especially
in Britain, was to protect the ports using specially designed submarine nets.
Later it was claimed that no British ship defended by submarine nets was
ever hit during the war, although it has been suspected that the nets were not,
in reality, anything like as invincible as they were claimed to be (Ordnance
Pamphlet 636A, 1944:5).

The story of submarine nets can teach us an important magical lesson,

however, that something can strike fear into the hearts of others, even if it’s
not actually as powerful as claimed. Time and again in ancient charms we see
the spell-caster listing his past successes, and promising to do much worse to
his present opponent. It is not just magic, but also psychological warfare.

Now of course, claiming powers one does not actually have may well
impress the gullible, but sooner or later we will come up against someone (or
indeed, something) that will call our bluff and expose the truth. This
happened with submarine nets just as it happens with substandard magic.

So what we learn from this is that while a certain amount of confidence is

essential in our magic (otherwise there isn’t much point in doing it), over-
bluffing can be very risky. We certainly shouldn’t rely on it, since there will
always come a point when we must either act or back off.

How Many Knots in a Net? And What Types?

There is no single ‘netting knot’ although some have proved more useful and
reliable than others. Even though we may never complete an entire net, we
can always tie just a few, each ‘set’ with its own intention (as we saw in
Chapter Seven, when we looked at knitted knots). If you are new to this type
of work, you can find instructions for making your own nets on the internet.
The basic knot shapes however are given below:

This is usually known as the overhand knot. It is straightforward to tie the

one cord over the other and is extremely ancient, being found in many scraps
of Neolithic netting from Alpine areas and Stone Age Denmark.
Unfortunately, because it produces such an insecure knot, it is rarely used
nowadays for a working net (Maclaren 1955:85). In spells however it could
be useful whenever we wish to build some flexibility into our work, and
where, perhaps after a while, it will not matter if the spell is broken or
undone.
This is another ancient knot, sometimes referred to as the ‘mesh knot from
under’ and is found on the Antrea net, which is the world’s oldest surviving
example of netting and is between eight and nine thousand years old. Unlike
the overhand knot shown above, this netting style has persisted into the
present and is still widely used in Europe and the US. It can also be worked
using a netting needle (Maclaren 1955:85).

There are many other types of netting knot of course, and a few more are
shown below.

The reef knot

Mesh knot from over

Little finger mesh knot

If we are determined to use nets and netting in our magic but cannot for the
life of us master the knot tying skills required, then by all means we should
try using a piece of ready-made netting. However it should always be
cleansed first ( to remove any magical formatting or negative energies that
might have been present when it was being made).

Magically cleansing a net before its first use is a very old tradition. In
Scotland it was considered so important that people used whiskey to purify
nets, lines and even the moulds used for shaping the mesh. This is a classic
example of ‘As above, so below’ since whiskey (along with other alcoholic
spirits such as vodka) have, in emergencies, been used to sterilise wounds in
the absence of something more suitable from the medicine cupboard. In this
instance therefore, people were ‘sterilising’ (which is really another word for
cleansing) the nets and lines on which their livelihoods (and often their lives)
depended.

Whether we make a small piece of netting ourselves, or use a cleansed,

ready-made section, we still have to name the purpose of each knot, before
fixing it with our magical attention. The best method is to think of sticking
the intention onto each knot before using our will to send it on its way.

In the past, both men and women made nets, and their work was always a
closely guarded secret. Even to speak of making a net was thought to weaken
its protective powers and I think this is often overlooked nowadays, when
people seem to want to talk so much about everything they do. Remember:
magic is not entertainment for other people!

At first sight it may seem curious to have had so many taboos connected with
line and net making but I believe it was because fishing had always been so
dangerous. Putting out to sea in often very small boats, people were at the
mercy of the elements, risking their lives and sometimes coming home
empty handed. Small wonder if they believed they were at risk from
malignant forces while making the lines and nets upon which not only their
livelihood, but also their lives, depended. Down the centuries, a whole host
of rituals and superstitions connected with the making of nets developed, all
concerned in one way or another with magical protection.

Although making fishing lines might not seem connected with knots and
Knot Magic, anyone who has ever tried fishing with rod and line knows that
knots are essential if only for attaching the hooks! Clearly if magical
protection was an issue, then taboos and traditions had to apply to making the
thread into fishing lines as well. And of course many of the lines were used
for making nets.

Years ago, one of the biggest practical problems facing rope and line makers
was finding a suitable clear space where they could work. This had to be
several metres long on level ground. In areas around rope-works in large
cities, there are often alleyways or narrow streets called ‘The Rope Walk.’

Once the site was chosen, the rope-maker had to carry not only his cords and
any tools he required but also bread, cheese and ale with him. These were
not for his lunch, but were given as offerings to anyone he happened to meet
either while on his way or when working on the cord. Similar customs were
also observed when the cord was either twisted up into ‘the great line’ or
made up into a net.

The use of offerings suggests some sort of ritual. Perhaps once made to gods,
they were now given to induce intruders leave quickly, so as not to interfere
with concentration. And yes, human nature being what it is, the prospect of
free ale, bread and cheese might actually have enticed some people to go and
keep the lonely line-maker company!

However, as a deterrent to anyone who was simply after a free snack,

strangers were usually invited to help with the work as a way of reversing
any possible bad luck they brought with them (Macleod Banks 1939:344).

Not everyone was welcomed however. Some people were considered

inherently unlucky, and even if they offered to help they would be refused.
Interruptions by people who were considered an ‘ill fit’ could so disturb the
fishermen that they would throw a finished net on the fire rather than risk
using it (Macleod Banks 1939:344).

There was also a curious prohibition against anyone other than the owner
stepping over the lines. Instead they had to be lifted up to enable people to
pass underneath. This sounds curiously like a reversal of the old superstition
about walking under ladders! If it was impossible to lift the line because it
was just too heavy, then people simply had to walk around it.

This also reminds me of another old tradition, that of jumping over a broom
at weddings. It suggests that certain objects such as fishing lines and brooms
can either be affected by or actively change the luck of anyone passing over
them. Therefore the right to step over these objects was both prized and
restricted; in the case of the broom it was only the married couple who
jumped over it, and in the case of the newly made fishing line, only the owner
could step over it.

This link between brooms and fishing is both unexpected and interesting.
Sometimes a besom (the traditional witch’s broom) would be thrown after a
new net when it first left the house. At other times it might be taken out to
sea in the boat. This suggests that besoms and nets were both once associated
with abundance and fertility.

And when we think about it, this does make sense. A broom sweeps leaves,
dust, dirt etc., gathering them into one place, while a net gathers a shoal of
fish and pulls them out of the sea. The broom drives things together in a
given direction and the net collects and removes them. Taken together, they
have an important magical role to play.

Of course, we may not want – or be able – to make our own lines and cords
nowadays, but it’s still worth looking at the old traditions surrounding them
since many can still be adapted and incorporated into our own magic. Just as
with ready-made netting, so we should also cleanse our cords, ropes and
threads before use. We never know what sort of conditions they were made
in, nor the state of mind of the person making, packing, transporting or
selling them. A little extra attention on our part can make our magical work
considerably easier!

Why use a net in Knot Magic?

Obviously we don’t have to use nets. Some people are happy to just tie three
knots in a string for their rest of their magical lives, and there’s nothing
wrong with that. However, knowing a few variations can help to make our
magic more targeted since there is always going to be that one spell that
needs a little extra push in the right direction. Therefore the more techniques
we have at our disposal, the better.

Nets are excellent whenever we need to provide our spell with many different
parts for a single intention. In protective magic, while fishermen may gather
fish together in their nets, so magically our nets can gather people, animals or
things etc., together and remove them to a safer place.
For example, if we need to work protective magic for a large group, we
should allocate one knot to each person (group, animal or even event or
project). That means we need at least as many knots in the net as the number
of people or animals etc., who are involved although if there are more knots it
doesn’t really matter.

If we do not know the individual names, then each knot could represent a
particular age group, or even have male, female, and transgender groups if
appropriate. The possibilities are endless, they just require a little
forethought.

In a ready-made net we cannot tie each knot personally, but if we know the
names of the people we are trying to protect, (and always provided there
aren’t too many) then the best method is to dab at each knot with a permanent
coloured marker pen, while saying their name (or group) aloud. Clearly we
need to be organised for this, making a list of the people to be mentioned and
crossing them off as we work.

Another magical intention well suited to using nets is when we want to

‘gather’ knowledge, i.e. to learn a large or difficult topic. For this I would
recommend a small mesh net (rather like an old fashioned hair-nets) so that
information is less likely to magically slip through the gaps.

Taking the piece of netting we then fill it with items we have named after the
topics or facts we want to recall. These need to be suitable for the type of net
used. A relatively robust net could be filled with a few shells or pebbles,
whereas something more delicate might be better filled with slips of paper.

Of course this will need some practical underpinning. It would be nonsense

to expect to pass our exams using magic if we were going out partying every
night instead of revising! What the magic does, in this instance, is help us
focus and remove barriers to our learning and memory. But we still need to
study and revise.

People sometimes feel this approach is a cop-out, but I beg to differ. I think
often we do study and revise, but encounter mental and emotional blocks that
prevent us retaining the information. These blocks need dismantling, and a
spell is often the best solution. Once they are out of the way we can get on
with studying and revising as before, but this time the work is more easily
understood and the knowledge is better retained.

If we feel we should state our intention aloud, then the ‘just as... so may...’
formula would probably be the most useful. For example:

Just as I gather together these topics, so may I gather them in my mind and
learn and remember them.

This should be spoken as we finally bring together all the items inside our
net. We should then tie or bind the net so that the pieces don’t fall out again
(ideally we want to gain knowledge permanently!) and finish off by tying
three simple knots in a piece of cord to pull it in and hold it all together.

Nets were not always made from cords, some were made from willow which
traditionally has the magical property of protecting whatever it holds. This
may be one reason it was so popular in basket making. At different times
and in different parts of the world, flax and grass have also been used in net
making. We could adapt this by using a strip of, say, willow bark to tie the
net together.

Knot Magic – with or without nets - obeys the basic ‘just as... so may’ rules.
For example, when fishing, the more fish that were caught, the better.
Therefore the best time to make a net was when the tide was in full flow,
since this was a natural time of abundance. This is also an example of ‘As
above, so below’, where the work is charged or magnetised by natural
phenomena such as moon phases (or in this case, tides which are, of course,
driven by the moon). Tide charts for the coastal areas nearest our homes are
usually available in local newspapers or on the internet.

A net intended to gather something together is best left intact, at least until
the initial purpose is achieved, so there is rarely any need to burn or bury it
straight after the spell has been cast.

There is an exception to this, however. If we have used it to gather

something unpleasant or harmful in order to remove it from our lives, then
the net (and its contents, if any) can be disposed of quickly using the
traditional burn/bury/or throw into running water method.

Otherwise, and especially if the net has been used in a spell to gain
knowledge it’s important when the time for disposal comes, to make it clear
that we are setting the knowledge free again for others to make use of it, and
not destroying it. Cutting the net open is the best method.

It would be a mistake to view nets as only suitable for a rather passive type of
spell; in fact they can be used aggressively as well. In history we find the
retiarius, a type of gladiator who wielded a trident and a net. In skilled
hands these were quite deadly.

So if we decide to base our magic on this aggressive and active model, our
net can be used to magically trap someone or something. Nor is this always
done in order to harm others. For example, we may want to trap someone we
believe is cheating on us or on someone else, or who is cheating in an
examination or at work. We might even want to trap a fugitive and prevent
his escape. In such work I would first fold the net so that it is long and
narrow (rather like a ribbon) and then bind with another cord, focusing on my
intention each time I tie a knot. Such spells work very well with the ‘Just
as... so may’ formula.

Although pre-made nets and netting are extremely useful, if we intend

making our own, we really need to practice first and there are books and
internet videos we can use for this. It is important to ensure we are confident
before creating netting for our spells; if we are concentrating too hard on
tying the knots correctly then we won’t be able to focus properly (or at all)
on the magic in hand.

Remember: The physical act of tying of the knot should always be second
nature to us long before it is incorporated into our magical work.

Synthetic and natural cords both have their supporters and detractors. While
natural fibres are usually pleasant to work with, and are far less slippery than
many manmade cords, synthetic ones offer a wide range of colours and
textures. It’s also worth taking a moment to understand why they replaced so
many natural cords in the twentieth century. A little background knowledge
can go a long way towards improving our magical practices.

When used in nets, natural fibres had two big disadvantages: they ripped and
were damaged easily, meaning an entire catch could be lost in moments.
They were also prone to rotting due to constant exposure to sea water.

Up until the mid nineteenth century, linen and hemp were usually used for
net making. Unfortunately such nets were very heavy when wet, making
them difficult to haul aboard. Later, factory-made nets of cotton were
preferred, since they were much lighter and easier to use. Yet even these still
rotted and tore.

Traditionally, as a precaution, the nets had been soaked in a procedure known

as barking before being taken out to sea for the first time. The solution was
made using oak or birch bark that was boiled until the liquid reduced into a
thick, dark, tarry mixture.

Bearing in mind that most of this was done locally rather than on an
industrial scale, it’s not surprising that even lighting the fire for the bark
solution was shrouded in its own folklore. For example, the fire had to be
started using only a burning coal or lump of peat from a neighbour’s house.
Obtaining these items was no easy task since it was widely believed that
giving such fuel away would allow the ‘luck’ of the house to leave with it.

Fire has always had strong associations with magic, and keeping a fire going
was often a matter of great pride. In some old houses it was claimed that the
fire had never gone out in over two hundred years! Although this might seem
a tad exaggerated, years ago most heating and cooking was done on the
kitchen fire, so keeping it alight for months – if not years – was certainly
possible.

As a precaution, when a burning coal, stick or lump of peat was handed over
(or occasionally stolen!) in order to light the barking fire, people would
sometimes throw salt on the fire just as the person carrying the coal left the
house. This would have been intended to protect those remaining in the
house and to ensure their luck did not leave. It would also have made the fire
flare up – a real touch of showmanship!

Salt has long been credited with protective properties. I can remember many
years ago, when we were under psychic attack, my mother-in-law throwing
old shoes and salt on our kitchen fire, even though she was deeply religious
and by no means involved in anything ‘witchy’. To her this was simply a
tradition that had to be observed and in no way compromised her own
beliefs.

Nowadays, when many of us have more freedom of religious choice, it is

easy to forget how people were once persecuted for their beliefs. Yet despite
the hysteria of the witch hunts, there were times when it all quietened down,
and this must have allowed many of the old ideas to survive. Folk magic was
curiously persistent and resisted all attempts to eradicate it.

Adapting old traditions to modern Knot Magic

Even if we cannot – or do not wish to – recreate old traditions exactly, it is
still worth examining them so we can adapt the most relevant parts for our
own magical work. For example, we could use natural thread for the net (or
indeed, an ordinary knot on a length of cord), and then submerge this in a
home-made, hot bark mixture. This would add a layer of protection to the
cord itself; perhaps not necessary for every spell, but useful in certain
situations.

Now obviously it is better that we do not go around stripping the bark off
living trees, but if we go out after a storm then the chances are we will find
some pieces have been blown down that we can use. It may not be enough to
please a nineteenth century fisherman, but it will suit our purposes very well
indeed. Remember that we need to preserve our cords and nets from magical,
not physical decay. Thus all we need is a small amount of bark boiled in a
small amount of water, not a couple of gallons of black, tarry slime.

Why oak and birch bark? Traditionally the oak was sacred to the most
important deities in many traditions, e.g. Zeus, Jupiter, Thunor, Perkunas and
Thor who were all thunder and storm deities. It had probably long been
observed how often oak trees were struck by lightning. This made it seem as
though they had a special relationship with storms, especially when their
branches caught fire. This must have been a dazzling sight, as though they
were burning with a fire sent directly from the gods. Oak was often used
(along with ash wood) for solstice fires and was a popular choice for Yule
logs.

Some kings and emperors exploited this link between gods and the oak tree to
enhance their own importance. Roman kings, for example, wore oak leaf
crowns which was a way of identifying themselves with Jupiter and his
power. In ancient Greece, even ordinary people associated with the unique
powers of the oak, believing they were the ‘first mothers,’ while the ‘first
fathers’ were the gods, who once dwelt in the trees along with the bees who
were thought to be immortal souls.

Years ago, the oak’s magical properties as a prolonger and preserver of life,
were clearly just as important as its physical properties. Fishing was a
dangerous occupation, so it made sense to use whatever magical means were
available to ensure one’s safety. And the oak is simply buzzing with this sort
of power. For example, many old oaks were believed to extend a person’s
life by seven years if one made small holes around the trunk and then jumped
around it seven times while at the same time keeping one hand on the trunk
and touching each of the holes with one foot. One needed to be very agile for
this, it sounds extremely complicated and must have been quite a sight!

Although hopping around an oak tree has nothing to do with nets and netting,
it does however show the tree’s strong associations with preserving and
extending life. In some traditions, oak sap was even thought to resurrect the
dead. Among the people of northern Europe, especially the Celtic and
Germanic tribes, it was believed that the powers inherent in trees could be
passed on to humans, which may be where sayings such as, ‘Touch wood’ or
‘Knock on wood’ originated.

The other ingredient in the barking mixture was birch bark. Like the oak, the
birch tree was plentiful in northern Europe (though not so much in the lands
around the Mediterranean). It was also dedicated to the thunder deities Thor
and Donar and was popular for torches because it burns easily.
Unlike the oak, however, birch is often associated with female deities such as
Freya, and Odin’s wife, Frigg. In Russia it is known as the Lady of the
Forest, while in Ireland it is associated with Brigid’s magical fire. There is a
theory that the name Brigid originally derived from bher(e)g, an Indo
European word meaning ‘shining white’. (Hagenader (2005:42).

With the coming of Christianity, those earlier beliefs and practices that could
not be easily Christianised were demonised, and the early Church often
portrayed birch trees as intrinsically evil. This suggests the birch was
probably sacred and venerated within in the earlier pagan traditions, hence
the later need to discredit it.

We might have thought this would have been enough to put most people off
using birch in their barking solutions. The fact that it didn’t, shows how
powerful its protective qualities were believed to be. Of course, the cynical
will claim that oak and birch were only chosen because of their chemical
properties and yes, this may be partly true. Observation may well have
shown that oak and birch somehow protected nets.

However, I suspect the trees’ magical properties must have been important
too and that these were closely linked with their physical properties.
Associated with the preservation of life and with various deities, there must
have been some feeling – perhaps reduced to little more than a hunch by the
nineteenth century – that dunking the nets in this mixture bestowed magical
and physical protection not only on the nets but also on the fishermen who
used them.

Our next task is to adapt some of this into our own magical practice. For
example, if we want our spell intention to have a permanent effect, then we
might want to treat our net or cord in much the same way that fishermen did
years ago before setting out to sea.

Of course, since we are working magically and have no intention of actually

setting out to sea and fishing for our supper, we don’t need to recreate exactly
the same the oak/birch mixture. And this is true for other parts of our spell,
too. We don’t need to slavishly copy anything our ancestors did, instead we
need to adapt their methods to suit ourselves. This is something we need to
examine in more detail in the next chapter when we begin to put our spell
together.
 Chapter Nine
PUTTING OUR SPELL TOGETHER
It’s no secret that I prefer very simple, straight forward magic whenever
possible, so when I cast a spell using Knot Magic, I tend to stick to a plain
cord, the sort of thing used for tying up parcels. My knots are simple and
easy-to-tie, and I finish them off by ‘setting’ them using my breath. Never
forget that in magic, our intention and the will are everything. Everything
else, as they say, is just gravy.

However, I have no problem when others sometimes want a little more than
that from their spells provided it is their own choice and not forced on them
by others. There is no single ‘right way’ to cast a spell, and we always have a
choice in our magic – what we do, when, why and how we do it. A plain spell
today, a fancier one tomorrow. We just need to learn to understand our own
choices.

For example, we might be attracted to using coloured cords in our spells.

They look striking and perhaps they help us to feel ‘witchy.’ However,
unless we understand why one colour might be more appropriate than another
for our spell, then it’s meaningless. The colour we choose doesn’t have to be
traditional, but it must have some sort of meaning for us in order for it to play
its proper part in the ritual. We should never rush through this part of the
planning just in order to get on with casting our spell. Unless we understand
the magical processes involved and how we both affect and are affected by
them, our magic will be little more than play-acting.

So what follows is much more detailed than we probably need, and it

certainly looks more complicated than it really is. Please don’t be put off by
it! Despite my desire to keep my own magic simple, I realise it still needs
explaining in some detail, especially when we’re starting out or just learning
some new technique. That way, solitaries and those working in small groups
with little guidance will understand exactly what I mean at each and every
step of the way.
Once we understand the underlying reasons for everything we do, we can
easily put a spell together for just about any intention.

How this works

Each part of the spell is given its own section (sometimes with subsections)
explaining its role in the spell, and how to adapt it for our own use. I also
explain which parts of the spell are essential and which are optional. That
way readers will be able to put it together as they feel suits them best in order
to create their own, personalised spell.

As you will see, Knot Magic requires very little in terms of essential items
apart from some cord and maybe some scissors or a knife. Anything else we
decide to add along the way is entirely optional. You will notice though that
I don’t suggest casting a circle. In Knot Magic we don’t really need one.
After all, we are not calling on higher entities, or questioning angelic beings
or demons, so why hamper ourselves with the trappings of a more ceremonial
type of magic?

That said, if we are working Knot Magic as part of a group, then casting a
circle could be an effective way of keeping all our intentions in one place.
It’s surprising how easily group intentions can be distracted. However as
solitaries we need to conserve our energy, so it’s unnecessary to dissipate it
on calling the quarters and casting the circle etc. Instead, in my own
experience anyway, it’s better to make careful, focussed preparations and
then just get on with the spell.

Planning ahead often discourages people. It shouldn’t. Done properly it

saves us time in the long term. In the early days, it can be a bit of a nuisance
and the temptation is always to skip it. Please don’t. If we take a little time to
read and plan what we want to do in these early stages, it will reward us
handsomely later on. Our magic will become quicker, smoother and more
organised.

Preparation is a blanket term that includes not only working out our spell
intention, but also gathering together everything we are likely to need. This
means we have to work out the method in advance and in some detail. When
performing magic and rituals we are constantly making choices, so it’s
important to keep a record of everything we do, especially in the early days
before certain types of spell become second nature to us. So we shouldn’t be
afraid to make notes as we work, jotting everything down in our Magical
Journal/Book of Shadows so that we can refer to it next time.

This groundwork is never wasted. Even if it shows us what not to do, then
we will have learned something.

Planning the Spell intention. (Essential)

This is so basic to all spell work that it still amazes me how some people will
still try to do without it. Understanding what we want to achieve with our
magic is essential. Write it down, then whittle it to a single sentence or
word. The essence of the intention, if you like.

Also, we should consider all the possible fall-out and pitfalls attendant upon
our intention. Sometimes we’re told that a ‘good’ intention doesn’t have any
potential to cause mayhem. That’s not true. The old dictum, ‘Wishes and
curses are like old hens, they always come home to roost,’ was drummed into
me when I was a child and I remain mindful of it now. We ignore the
mysterious ‘Laws of Unintended Consequences’ at our peril!

Now obviously, there is a huge difference between planning and agonising

over something. Mostly all we need is common sense since most pitfalls can
be spotted a mile off, and these are the things we are looking for. What can
go wrong needs to be balanced against what can go right. Think, consider
and think again.

It’s not just a matter of going after the things we want, either. Just because
someone wants something doesn’t mean they should have it – just ask any
harassed parent trying to navigate around supermarket with a few toddlers in
tow! Our desires, followed blindly, can lead us into real trouble if we don’t
think them through properly first.

That said, I have nothing against spells for personal gain per se. Problems
only arise when our desires are unreasonable, greedy, or do not care about
any harm they may cause others. Even then it is often more a question of the
spell-caster’s character, rather than the spell’s intention. And this is as true in
life as it is in magic – yet another case of ‘As above, so below.’ Unless we
are inherently selfish it is unlikely to be much of a problem for most of us.

In fact, as I’ve previously remarked, for most people the greatest risk is that
in concentrating too much upon the pitfalls, we end up casting a spell that
achieves the opposite of what we intended. For example, in our desire to
avoid unemployment, sickness, etc., we focus so much on the negative that
we end up casting a spell to bring the very things we didn’t want into our
lives.

Fortunately this problem can be easily overcome with a little sensible

preparation. This is where writing out our intention beforehand is so useful –
it helps ensure our spell is properly directed. If we are concentrating on
things we don’t want we will soon notice. And as we plan, we have to make
a series of practical choices, too. What equipment will we need? What sort
of cord? What colour? (Since this latter question is such a wide subject,
Chapter Five has already dealt with it in more depth.)

Basically the type of cord we use is largely dictated by (a) what is available,
(b) what we personally find easy to work with, (c) the type of knots we intend
to tie and (d) whether we intend soaking it in a bark solution beforehand.

There are reasons both for and against creating a bark solution:

Reasons against – It makes the spell more complicated, takes longer, needs
more equipment, and we need to be comfortable working with fairly damp
cords which may handle differently from the dry ones. (One way around this
is to dip the cord or net after the knots have been tied.) Most spells do not
specifically require this extra effort, so it is basically is a matter of personal
choice.

Reasons in favour – Soaking cords in a bark solution is an established

tradition to protect the integrity of cords and nets, drawing upon the magical
properties inherent in the tree from which the bark is taken. If our spell
concerns the safety or preservation of an individual, animal or place, then we
might feel it’s a good idea to include it. Examples could include travel
spells, leaving home, etc.

I rarely create bark solutions for my spells, except in exceptional

circumstances. However, such circumstances do arise from time to time, so it
is worth knowing how to create this little addition to our spell repertoire –
just in case. I have therefore set the instructions out in some detail here.

Rituals for Creating the Bark Solution, Soaking the Cords

(optional)
Creating the Bark Solution requires several, small sub-rituals which I outline
in some detail here simply to show how they can be organised and in order to
try and avoid misunderstandings.

These small sub-rituals need to be performed in their proper sequence, and

once we start, there isn’t really a point where we can turn around and take a
break! The whole thing will not take all that long, but it’s important to have a
trial run at it, just to make sure we know what we’re doing and what we’ll
need.

Just as the original tarry solution was intended to preserve the net or line, so
this, simpler version is intended to magically preserve the net or cord in our
spell. Then, once the bark has boiled, we have to allow the solution to cool a
little before soaking the cords in it.

This is the usual order in which we need to do things:

The Lighting of the Fire Ritual (optional)

The first step is to begin with a brief Lighting of the Fire Ritual. This
physically marks the point when the spell begins, so it is important to be well
organised before getting the matches out! Collecting the bark in advance
should be done whenever we have chance and then stored carefully so we
have some to hand whenever we need it.

Basic equipment:
A source of heat (kitchen stove, camping stove);
means of ignition if necessary (matches, lighter);
bark;
 water (with additional hot water for topping up);
a heatproof container suitable for use with the type of heat we will be
using (old saucepans are ideal – we certainly don’t need cauldrons
for this!);
cords or netting;
tongs for removing the bark from the solution;
somewhere safe like an old baking tin or plate where we can put the
bark after removing it from the solution.
Kitchen towel or old cloths for mopping up any spills

Optional equipment:
Beads (if used),
words of the spell (if we have written these out beforehand),
thick pad of kitchen towel (if we intend to dry the cords first before
tying the knots in them);
knife or scissors to cut the cord if it’s not already been cut;
another pad of kitchen towel or a clean cloth to wipe the knife;
a tape measure, ruler or stick, for measuring the cord.

Method
There is something about fire that always sets the scene for whatever is to
follow. Although I don’t like the idea of performing ‘stagey’ magic, there are
times when doing something dramatic such as lighting a fire or candle helps
to mentally and magically position us just where we need to be at that
moment.

So – we should collect together everything we’ll need and position ourselves

fairly close to our chosen source of heat, with our notebook (where we’ve
jotted down some preparatory details) at the ready, and a pen so we can make
more notes if necessary (especially in rehearsals and practice runs.)

Lighting the fire illustrates one of the problems with adapting old customs for
modern use. After all, it’s highly unlikely we can go and borrow burning
coals from our neighbours. Most people don’t burn coal on open fires any
more, and if they do they certainly won’t appreciate us going and taking a red
hot coal from the hearth! And often it isn’t possible to build a suitable fire
ourselves.
We have to be safety conscious, too. Even if we build garden bonfires every
year in November, it’s quite a different matter to heat something safely up to
boiling point in the middle of an open fire and then retrieve it again.

The same goes for barbecues – great for grilling, but not so great for boiling
in a container. And please, don’t even think about trying to heat anything
over a candle – it’s dangerous, unstable and the candle will simply not
generate sufficient heat safely. In my view it’s better to use a small camping
gas stove or even our domestic stove or cooker.

Judging how much water to put in the pan with the bark is not always easy.
It’s tempting to use very little since this will come to the boil more quickly.
However, boiling water soon turns to steam, and a small amount of water
may evaporate too quickly, so we need to be present and keeping an eye on
the pot or saucepan at all times.

It should go without saying, but never be tempted to leave anything

unattended – horrible accidents can happen that way. We either have to make
sure we have everything we need to hand, or be prepared to do without.

What we need to ensure at this stage is that we end up with enough solution
so we can soak our cords or netting in it after the bark has been removed. If
it is evaporating too quickly, (and this can catch us out if we aren’t paying
proper attention) then all we have to do is top it up with some very hot water
from the kettle (cold water will slow things down again too much).

It saves a lot of time if, during the period when we are testing and preparing
things and before we get around to the actual spell, we note down in our
Magical Journal the rough quantities of ingredients we need. Then, on future
occasions we can just refer back to it instead of having to work it all out
again.

The Ritual of the First Flame (optional)

We start the lighting of the fire ritual with what I call the Ritual of the First
Flame which sounds far more grand than it really is. Again making a ritual
of this is optional, and we can leave it out and simply strike a match without
any more ado if we prefer.

If we do decide to incorporate this ritual however, then remember its purpose

is just to symbolise the tradition of taking a flame (either from somewhere, or
someone) in order to start the fire that will heat the bark mixture. It’s worth
knowing how to do it just in case we need it at a later date.

As we’ve already seen, there was a long-standing tradition that a coal had to
be taken from a neighbour’s fire in order to start the process to boil the bark
mixture. Nowadays, when heat and light are available at the flick of a switch,
it’s difficult to realise just how much skill goes into making a long lasting,
reliable fire.

Building a huge bonfire is not that difficult, but creating a controlled fire that
will give strong heat, without too much smoke or flame, and which will not
easily go out is quite an art. Therefore taking a coal or lump of peat from a
neighbour’s fire was no small matter and could disturb the balance of the
fire. Besides, fuel was valuable and sometimes hard to come by.

Salt was traditionally thrown on the fire after taking a lump of peat from it,
but there are risks with this since salt often makes a fire grow and splutter –
at least temporarily. So if we intend trying this, we should use only a very
little salt and preferably do it outside with the means to extinguish the flames
if necessary. (Incidentally, there is nothing all that magical in why the fire
grows when salt is thrown on it, it’s just a chemical reaction.)

A camping gas stove can be lit using a match, and probably the safest way is
to use a long Cook’s match. This in turn can be lit from another source. For
example, we could ask someone else to light a candle, and then, when we are
ready, take a light from it, using a long Cook’s match that we then use to
light the stove. And there we have it – taking fire from someone else! Very
simple, very effective and it does what’s needed.

The thing to remember is that magic is all around us. Really, it is. For
example, supposing we decide to use our domestic gas cooker for this part of
the spell. People are often put off doing this because instead of using a match
(which they feel seems more authentic, somehow), they have to use the
cooker’s built-in electronic ignition instead. Yet there is magic there, too
because the ignition often contains quartz. This is a fascinating crystal
frequently found in ancient stone circles, and it gives off an electrical charge
in the form of a spark when it is struck. This then ignites the gas. Thus even
heating the mixture on a gas cooker contains its own magic, and does the job
for us just as well.

Possible opening statements for this ritual could be as simple as,

‘Element of fire, begin the transformation of this bark and water into a
protective solution.’

All right, it may not sound particularly magical or witchy, but it does the job.
It states what we are trying to achieve leaving no room for doubt.
Alternatively, instead of calling upon the element of fire, we could address a
sun deity (if we are in the habit of working with them) or whichever deity or
power we usually work with.

If we prefer not to address anyone or anything, we could simply state:

‘May the transformation of this bark and water into a protective solution now
begin.’

Alternatively, using the ‘Just as... so may...’ formula we might prefer to say
something like:

‘Just as the heat begins to build, so may the magical energies increase in this
spell.’

And of course we can still use the last two opening statements even if we are
using an all-electric cooker since all we are doing is marking the beginning of
heating the bark and water. This ceremony – it need only be a few words –
defines the action and relates it to the spell as a whole. It also shows exactly
where the magic begins to build up.

We can continue with this type of magical narrative commentary as the water
comes to the boil if we wish. Nowadays I don’t usually find it necessary, but
I did when I was younger and it helped me stay focused.

‘Just as the water bubbles and boils, so may it absorb the magical properties
of protection that are inherent in the bark.’

Remember that the most effective magic is always what we feel in our minds,
hearts and souls. If something doesn’t feel right then we are not at ease
(literally ‘dis-eased’!) and when that happens it can wreck our magical work.
It’s a bit like trying to run while carrying heavy weights.

I make no apologies here for putting in so much detail. So often, it’s the little
things that make us stumble in our magic. For example, how long should we
let the water boil? This is not as strange as it sounds: you might be
surprised just how many people do not know how to time a boiled egg!

Basically, water boils once bubbles begin to rise from the base of the
saucepan to the surface of the water (it’s a bit different with other liquids like
milk which can easily boil over.) At first it’s just one or two bubbles, then
more, speeding up until eventually we reach what’s called a rolling boil. I
prefer a gentle boil which is not as fast, and it’s safer and easier to control, so
turn the heat down at this stage. Once the bubbles are rising quickly, that’s
when we need to start timing.

But for how long? Well, since we’re never going to produce the traditional
thick, tarry sludge, I don’t believe it matters that much. The whole ritual is
just symbolic. We might like to set aside a certain number of minutes (three,
seven and nine are all popular magical numbers) bearing in mind that the
longer the water boils, the more it will evaporate). Putting a lid on the
saucepan will slow down evaporation, and some people feel it increases the
power in the liquid by preventing the steam from escaping.

Some people seem to have an innate sense of magic. They just ‘know’ when
it feels right to move on. If you are one of these then go with it! Even if we
start out with a plan, we should never feel bound by it. If we feel something
needs changing then we should do it, remembering to make a note of the
changes afterwards for future reference.
However, changing a plan because we feel it’s necessary is quite different
from simply drifting along, hoping to somehow guess what to do. Planning –
provided we are not too rigid about it – gives us confidence which helps to
set our magic free. Drifting aimlessly tends to have the opposite effect.

The next step, once the water has boiled for however many minutes we have
chosen, is to turn off the heat. If we are using an electric cooker we should
remove the container from the hot ring. Then we need to remove the bark,
preferably with a pair of kitchen tongs or something similar, and put the
pieces out of the way to one side. We can ritually dispose of these later, once
the spell is done, but there is no point leaving the spell at this stage to do this
until everything is finished.

It’s a matter of personal choice whether we want to put the cords in straight
away or wait until the liquid has cooled a bit. Never put synthetic cords into
boiling – or near boiling – water. They will probably melt or fuse together.

While we wait we can still – if we wish – continue with the next part of the
spell.

Cutting the Cord and Cleansing the Blade(optional)

Although I have marked this as an optional ritual, we will indeed need at
some point to cut the cord or threads we intend using. However, it is entirely
up to us whether we make a ritual out of this or simply get on with it without
further ado. There is no hard and fast rule, but at some point during the
planning stage, we must decide.

In a way the cutting marks a type of birth, like cutting the cord of a newborn,
i.e. giving birth to the spell, showing that the cord is no longer part of the ball
of string (or whatever) but has instead become part of the magic. Of course
it’s not essential and many people just cut their piece of cord without really
thinking about its significance, preferring to concentrate on the knots and the
spell intention itself.

Reasons against performing this ritual: Well, it’s yet another layer of ritual,
it takes time and for some people at any rate, will drain their energy. We
certainly shouldn’t do it if we think it’s going to be a ritual too far!
Reasons in favour of performing this ritual : It helps to keep us focused
during the preparatory part of the spell. Some people also find it helps them
build up their energy and intention.

As always, it’s our choice. While some welcome the little extras, feeling they
help keep them focussed, others regard them as a distraction. My own
approach is to see if they add something to the spell I am doing (each spell
being different). If they do, then I include them, otherwise I leave them
out. Personally I quite like making a small ritual of cutting the cord, if only
because the phrase ‘cutting the cord’ has such strong associations with birth,
and I like the idea of giving birth to a spell.

Returning to the practicalities of this little ritual, in my opinion there is a

great deal of nonsense talked about knives versus scissors. Both will do the
job, although knives have a rather dodgy reputation and some people really
don’t like using them. As someone who has managed in the past to cut
herself very badly using both knives and scissors – and has the scars to show
for it - my only recommendation is to treat whatever we use with care and
respect!

Knives or scissors, whatever we choose should be symbolically cleaned,

preferably with a white cloth, although white tissues, handkerchiefs and even
kitchen towel will do the job at a pinch. White has long symbolised purity
and therefore aids our visualising of the magical cleansing process.

The important thing in any spell is that we believe in what we are doing. If
we just go through the motions, or worse, feel a bit embarrassed by the whole
thing, then we may as well not bother. We will not be giving our magic a fair
chance. Do it with conviction or not at all.

So – we should take our cloth in one hand, the cutting implement in the other
and gently polish the blade (or blades if we’re using scissors), taking care not
to cut ourselves in the process. Make sure the sharp edge of the blade faces
away from our fingers.

This is not the only technique for cleansing of course. My own preferred
method is to breathe along the length of each blade and mentally visualise
blowing away any magical debris that might be present. Then – but only if
we felt it was necessary – we could lightly polish the blade as well.

Then we say, either aloud or mentally, something like:

With this cloth I cleanse this blade (or ‘these blades’ if we are using
scissors). Be clean, be pure of intention, sweet blade, and do my will.
Blessed be.

Some people prefer ‘So mote it be’ at this point, or some other sort of final
statement to bring the ritual to an end. It really doesn’t matter as long as we
feel comfortable and happy with it. At this point all we need is to establish
what we are doing and why as part of our magical narrative.

Whatever method we choose for cleansing, once it’s done we simply place
the knife or scissors on the white cloth, kitchen towel etc., ready for use.
***
Note: Do not be tempted to do the cleansing hours before cutting the cord.
Do the cleansing and then cut the cord as soon as possible afterwards. If we
cleanse something and then leave it hanging around while we go off and hang
washing on the line or play online games we will defeat the object of the
exercise. With the best will in the world we do not know what energies the
blade(s) will pick up in the meantime.

So stay focused. Keep everything together and proceed as smoothly as

possible.
***

Next we need to measure the length of cord or size of the netting. If we have
done our preparations well, we will already know exactly how long the thread
needs to be, and will have a measuring stick, ruler or tape measure to hand. I
don’t like using soft tape measures for this type of measuring very much. A
ruler or a marked stick is much easier to handle.

If we intend casting knot spells often, we can even make our own measure
from a length of wood, perhaps decorating it with patterns and symbols and
marking it with the lengths we use most frequently. Personally I would never
use a cord less than about six inches (15 cm) long, because it is too fiddly.
The only exception I would make would be for a very fine thread such as an
embroidery or crochet thread, or even hair. However, I would never soak
these in a barking solution in case it damaged them.

Again any words used should be as simple and succinct as possible such as:

With this knife, I cut this cord that I am using in this spell to ...(just state the
intention very briefly here, e.g. ‘heal Fred,’ ‘find a new job’.)

Now I know at this stage some of you will be shaking your heads and saying
‘But you’re just stating what you’re doing!’ Yes. And that is just as it
should be. A magical narrative informs the universe, cosmos, our deities,
higher powers or whatever we choose to work with, by giving voice to our
intention.

Of course, if we don’t want to make a ritual of cutting the cord then it doesn’t
matter and we don’t have to say anything, we just slice through it in silence
and get on with tying the knots. However, if we make a ritual for a certain
part of any spell then we really should declare what we’re doing, either aloud
or mentally.

If we are using a ready-made piece of netting then the next part of the spell is
to hold it above the cooling liquid and drop it in, using the wooden spoon to
make sure every part is submerged. Again we keep our words simple.
Something like:

May this net absorb the magical protective properties of this solution of bark
and water. Be powerful. Be blessed.

How long should the net or cord remain in the solution? It depends whether
we are going to tie the knots in wet cord or prefer to let it dry off a bit. If we
don’t mind using wet cords, then we can leave it in the solution until it is at
least cool enough to handle. If we want them to dry out a bit then we need to
remove the cord and place it on a pad of clean kitchen towel to help dry it
out.
And if we are really in a hurry, there is absolutely no reason why we cannot
tie the cords first and then dunk them in the bark solution. It’s our spell after
all!

Releasing or Changing the Colour (optional)

I’ve dealt with the procedures for this in some detail back in Chapter Five. If
we intend changing colours, either adding or removing them, this is the point
at which we do it.

Tying the Knots (essential)

This part of the spell involves the tying of the knots and is really the body of
the spell. By this point we should already have made our choices regarding
the following:

(a) Our exact intention

(b) How many knots we intend tying
(c) Whether we intend adding beads (which can symbolise knots as
well as contain their own symbolism).

Now really by this stage I should not have needed to draw your attention to
(a), (b) and (c) above. However, during some of my Knot Magic workshops I
have come across people who desperately want to ‘get on with the magic’
despite not knowing what they want, nor even how many knots they intend
tying. It is as though they hope it will somehow all take care of itself once
they start. It doesn’t. Instead what usually happens is that they end up
frustrated while the spell lacks direction and power.

So – no matter how complex the situation may seem – the spell intention
must always be unambiguous, clear and well thought out. This can take time
and effort. Don’t skimp on either.

It will pay off in the long term...

 Chapter Ten
Numbers and their significance
This is such a large subject that I feel it deserves a section all to itself. When
deciding how many knots to tie, it’s usually easier to concentrate on just a
few in a relatively short length of string or rope. Indeed, there is nothing
wrong with a single knot since it can symbolise so many things, from
humankind to the world, the cosmos and even our own unique
individualism. For monotheists, the number one represents the Divine. And
sometimes this is all we need.

The number two traditionally represents balance, particularly if we think of

two items weighed against each other in an old fashioned balance scale.
Conversely, it can also symbolise discord, or the ‘one’ that has broken away,
separated or deserted from the other. With this in mind, two knots could be
used in order to heal or create conflict. Two may also represent basic
polarities such as right and left, day and night, light and shadow, even good
and bad. The choice is ours, the only proviso being that we have to make it fit
in with our magical intention and that it must have meaning for us.

Generally speaking, it is better to avoid working with more than nine knots.
Partly this is because it is difficult to concentrate on more and the spell
becomes messy, but also because unless we are very good at spacing the
knots, we will run out of cord before we’ve finished.

Often classical texts tell us the number of threads rather than the number of
knots. In his eighth Eclogue for example, the Roman poet Virgil writes:
 These triple threads of threefold colour first
I twine about thee, and three times withal
around these altars do thine image bear:
uneven numbers are the god's delight.

Yet later in the same work, the poet also specifies the number of knots to be
tied:
Knit with three knots the fillets; knit 'em straight;
And say, “These knots to love I consecrate”

However, sometimes – and this is a good example – it’s difficult to know

where to draw the line between real magical practice and dramatic effect. We
have to ask ourselves: was Virgil describing a real spell, or trying to spice it
up for his readers by echoing common stereotypes of his day?

It’s a difficult question to answer. Certainly the comment, ‘...uneven

numbers are the god’s delight,’ occurs often in classical literature and not just
in Virgil. It may also reflect the popularity at the time of the ‘magical’
numbers three, seven and nine. However the numbers five and eleven are
also odd numbers, yet never all that popular, suggesting there were other
factors involved here that we no longer understand.

Pliny the Elder also mentions a form of Knot Magic, this time as a cure for
fever. It involved putting a caterpillar in a piece of cloth, then winding a
linen thread three times around the cloth, tying it with three knots and
declaring the purpose of the spell with each knot (Natural History XXX,
101).

Since Pliny was not attempting to write poetry here, it seems likely his
description is reasonably accurate. He shows us how the basic method for
Knot Magic – stating the purpose of the spell with each knot – has remained
unchanged for at least two thousand years and probably dates back long
before that.
Three knots seem to have been the preferred number not only for many types
of healing spells but also for weather magic, especially for knotted strings
that harnessed the power of the winds. These were the ‘magic knots’ that
sailors bought, although the number nine (being the product of three times
three) was also associated with the sea because of the old belief that the ninth
wave was the largest (although some believe it was the seventh wave).

It is often claimed that the importance of the number three originated with the
Christian doctrine of the Trinity. However, its significance is much older
than that and it appears in pagan mythology all over Europe with triform
deities such as the Greek Hekate or the Celtic Brigid or Brigantia (O hOgain
1991, 60).

The Celts certainly regarded the number three (and its many multiples,
including nine) as sacred, but we also find groups of three deities in other
traditions too, for example Isis, Osiris and Horus or Brahma, Vishnu and
Shiva. The three Norns of Norse myth ruled the destinies of mortals and this
seems to be echoed across Europe in the Roman Fates and matronae, the
Greek moirae and the Anglo-Saxon Wyrd Sisters. Using three knots would
therefore be particularly appropriate for spells involving destiny, fate and
anything connected with nurturing.

The number four may not be as popular as three nowadays, but it has a long
and honourable tradition nevertheless. We find it not only in the four points
of the compass and the four winds but also in the four humours of early
medicine, and the four arms of any cross shape (with the exception of the
Tau). The cross, of course, predates Christianity by many millennia and is
found all over the globe, including the prehistoric traditions of Mexico and
Central America (Buckland 1896:96). In ancient Egypt, the vital organs of
the mummified corpses were placed in four canopic jars, each assigned to a
god, who was in turn protected by a goddess.

We could therefore use four knots for anything concerning travel, the
compass points and the four winds, healing, medicine, and even death and
protection. Just about the only drawback in using an even number of knots is
getting the spacing right, since they can be difficult to tie evenly. Odd
numbers are much easier to space out and in order to get a feel for this, we
can tie the middle numbered knot (e.g. the second knot in a group of three, or
the third knot in a group of five &c.) first in the centre of the cord, and then
space the others evenly around it.

The number five should, by rights, be at least as important as the numbers

three and seven. We see it every day whenever we look at our fingers and
toes, and even in the garden where many flowers have five petals, or five
pointed leaves, e.g. sycamore or ivy.

This number also represents our five senses: taste, touch, sight, smell and
hearing, or indeed the human figure, with a head, two arms and two legs
(rather like the image of Vitruvian Man). For this reason, it’s often said that
five represents Man as the Microcosm, although stars in the heavens are also
often shown with five points. Most famously of all for our purposes, the
number five is associated with the five pointed star or pentagram.

Five knots therefore could be used in any spell connected with humanity in
general (rather than with a single person in particular) and also in any spell
where we place a heavy reliance on our five senses.

The number six is also associated with a star shape, in this case the six
pointed Star of David. It was chosen – in yellow – to identify, humiliate,
isolate and persecute Jews in 1930s and 1940s Europe, and also appears, in
blue on a white background, on Israel’s flag.

However, for many pagans the six pointed star symbolises the male and
female principles, since it is often drawn as two triangles superimposed over
each other. The downward pointing triangle may be interpreted as a chalice
or womb and therefore as a feminine vessel for life or magic, penetrating
deep into the ground, the sacred home of Mother Earth. The upward pointing
triangle represents a penis or a pyramid, making it a masculine pointer
towards the stars, the home of the various Sky Father deities.

The number six contains some contradictions too. During the Middle Ages,
for example, it was sometimes regarded as a ‘perfect’ number since if we add
together the first three numbers, i.e. 1 + 2 + 3 (representing the Divine plus
the Feminine and the Masculine principles respectively) they give the answer
six. Likewise, six is the product if we multiply the first Feminine number (2)
by the first Masculine one (3). Six knots therefore could be used in spells to
join masculine and feminine together, making the number useful in love and
fertility magic.

In the New Testament of the Bible however, the number six was associated
linked with evil, since 666 was the sign of the Beast of the Apocalypse. For
me however, the most amazing thing about the number is how it appears in
nature since both honeycomb cells and snow crystals are six sided. This could
make it a good number to use in spells for protecting the earth.

It’s generally believed that the first people to give the number seven its
special significance were the Babylonians who believed, amongst other
things, that there were seven planets, seven pairs of stars, seven celestial
zones, seven metals and seven colours (Kypros 1946:82). From the
Babylonians, this magical and sacred aspect of the number seven passed on to
the Jews and the Persians.

The number seven also proved unexpectedly popular in the Bible, where it
occurs more often than any other number (Williams 1945:258). The
Medieval Church quickly adopted it, with such groupings as the ‘Seven Joys
of Mary’ and the ‘Seven Last Words.’ It also appears frequently in the book
of Revelations with its seven angels and seven trumpets, seven golden vials,
seven plagues etc.

Religion aside however, there seems to be something about the number seven
that has seeped into human consciousness. It’s almost as though there is
something about the number that grants significance to whatever can be
grouped within it. Hence the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, the
Seven Sages of Greece, or the seven headed Hydra that Hercules had to kill
for his second labour.

We may no longer understand why seven has been – and remains – so

magically significant, and yet there it is. It’s not an obvious number we see
every day – unlike five digits on each hand or foot for example. So where
does seven’s importance come from? Perhaps it is because it can be seen in
the skies above us (in the northern hemisphere, anyway) principally in the
seven stars of the constellation Ursa Major, and the seven stars of the
Pleiades. Like the numbers three and five, seven is a prime number (which
means it cannot be divided by any other number apart from itself and one.) It
is also an uneven one.

Perhaps it is precisely the fact that its significance is not obvious that made
people believe it must have some hidden magical meaning. This has
similarities with trees such as the ash that did not bear edible fruit. These
were thought to be extremely powerful since they had no obvious other
function.

It is certainly difficult to engage with the number seven in our everyday lives.
For example, it doesn’t lend itself easily to musical rhythm. A piece of music
with seven beats to the bar is very difficult to perform, whereas three and its
multiples (six, nine and even twelve) are much easier, as are pieces with two,
four and eight beats to a measure. Seven knots in a cord might therefore be
useful in a spell to create discord or even to break up difficult situations.

This element of discord may explain why, over the years, the number seven
has become so strongly associated with hexing, and especially with knot
spells intended to cause sexual impotence. Of course we must not allow this
knowledge to put us off using seven knots in a cord, because as we can see,
the number has many other connotations too.

For example, in some Celtic traditions, especially in Scotland, the seventh

child of a seventh child was said to have second sight. Some insist it should
be the seventh son of a seventh son, but this is virtually impossible nowadays
with families being so much smaller. My own mother was very proud of
being able to claim to be the seventh child of a seventh child. However, due
to the levels of infant mortality within the family, she and an elder sister
fought incessantly about which one of them was ‘really’ the seventh child!
That aside, we could certainly use seven knots could be used in any spell
requiring (or intended to obtain) the gift of second sight, whatever our place
in the family.

The number seven even turns up in place names, such as Sevenoaks, Seven
Dials, or Seven Sisters Road. Whether there really were seven oaks, sisters
or indeed dials, we have no way of knowing. The number may simply have
been chosen for its magical symbolism, perhaps in the hope it would protect
the place it described.

The use of seven in place names also shows that the number is not innately
evil or exclusively confined to hexing since people would surely not wish to
live in such a place. Even if the name had been given to it negatively by
outsiders, it is unlikely it would have remained unchanged for long. The fact
that it was retained suggests it was both approved and welcomed.

There are also seven colours in the rainbow (if we disregard ultra violet and
infra-red). Rainbows are naturally associated with weather, since they occur
after rain which could make seven useful in certain types of weather magic.
Seven knots could then be used in spells intended to bring an end to sadness,
since rain could be associated with tears.

Rainbows were also at one time associated with death. Iris, the Greco-
Roman goddess of the rainbow, was said to take the souls of women away
when they died. Seven knots could therefore be used for rituals connected
with death and dying perhaps to ease someone’s passing or help them reach
the Summerlands (or whatever afterlife we believe in.)

Like the number six, seven was also sometimes regarded as a perfect
number, since it was the result of adding the Masculine number three to the
Feminine number four. (Like the number two, four was thought to be
feminine.)

Although we might not think that the number eight is particularly magical, in
countries such as Russia, it was sometimes used in hexing. In one example,
eight double knots were tied in a length of woollen yarn, and as each double
knot was tied, the following had to be recited:

1. I go out onto the road

2. I throw into the open field
3. Into the distance (perhaps meaning a crossroads)
4. Between the homesteads
5. Into the fields
 6. Into the seas
7. Into the forests
8. Into the quaking bog
(Ryan 1999:187)
The cord then had to be left somewhere that its intended victim would step on
it. Unfortunately we are not told what happened next. Possibly stepping on
the cord would activate the spell, magically removing the victim from their
home and family, and casting them physically or perhaps even mentally into
seas, quaking bogs etc.

The number nine is widely regarded as a magical number and long ago in
Romania, a female leech (i.e. a healer) would tie nine knots in a cord made of
hemp in order to cure someone with a ‘crick in the back’ which could, let’s
face it, cover a multitude of conditions. And indeed this seems to be tacitly
acknowledged as she ties each knot and relates it to a different part of the
body. The knots were tied across the patient’s back at right angles while the
following was spoken :

[Knot No. 1] I do not bind the knot, but the pain in the heart.
[Knot No. 2] I do not bind the knot, but the pain in the intestines.
[Knot No 3] Ditto the liver
[Knot No 4] Ditto the ribs
[Knot No 5] Ditto the shoulders
[Knot No 6] Ditto the breast
[Knot No 7] Ditto the throat
[Knot No 8] Ditto the neck, ears and teeth
[Knot No 9] For all the joints and all the other parts of the body.
(Seligman 1910:328)

Once the knotting was finished, the cord was placed in water, while the
person casting the spell would recite another charm (which, unfortunately yet
again, nobody recorded!) The cord was then placed crosswise on the
patient’s breast and left there for three days. Since it is unlikely that anyone,
even a patient suffering with excruciating back pain, could lie immobile for
three days, it seems more likely that the cord must have been pinned in place
to enable them to move around.
After three days, the cord was removed, and thrown into running water. The
idea behind using running water rather than a well or pond is that the water
takes the illness away with it (this is quite different from a healing well,
which seems to have special, innate powers within that can overcome such
problems.) The author then states that, ‘Another charm concludes the
treatment’ but alas, never tells us what this was. This is so frustrating, yet
very common. Sometimes I really wish I could get hold of them and ask why
they were unable to provide this information!

However, in fairness, although these omissions may strike us as careless on

the part of whoever was recording the spell, magicians and healers are
sometimes very secretive about their work. Possibly they refused to allow
certain parts to be witnessed or written down.

It has always puzzled me that the number ten does not appear as a magical
number in its own right since it plays such an important role in computing
very large numbers, expressing them ‘to the power of ten’ or a hundred,
thousand or whatever.

However, centuries ago perhaps there was no need for such figures, and even
though we have ten fingers and toes, these can be counted as two sets of five.
Perhaps there was never time for ten to make its presence felt in the magical
landscape! Also, from a practical point of view, most people struggle to tie
just nine knots evenly, and almost any spell can be performed in nine or less.

Few people nowadays – apart from midwives perhaps - have ready access to
an umbilical cord, yet at one time this was used to predict the number of
children the mother would bear by counting the number of knots or bumps
that occur naturally in the cord (Newman and Newman 1939:187). From my
own experience of giving birth, the number of future babies I might have was
probably the furthest thing from my mind, although some new mothers might
like to know!

In Hungary, however, there was a time when careful mothers and midwives
not only preserved the umbilical cord but also tied a hundred knots in it. This
must have been no mean feat considering that the average cord is just fifty
centimetres (about twenty inches) long, which would mean tying two knots
per centimetre! Given the thickness of the average cord, I think this would be
impossible, so perhaps the aim was just to tie as many knots as possible, and
the term ‘hundred’ just signified this, rather than an exact number.

Once the child reached the age of thirteen, he or she would be given the cord
and told to undo it (bearing in mind it would probably have dried out to the
consistency of hard shoe leather by this time.) If the child succeeded this
foretold good luck in later life! (Benedekfalva and Knappe 1941:105)

And now, having looked at the number of knots we might include in our
spell, it’s time we went back to the spell itself.
 Chapter Eleven
Placing the knots and choosing our words

Placing the knots is not all that difficult unless we happen to be

perfectionists. Although they don’t have to be perfectly spaced, it still helps
to have a plan to avoid running out of cord too quickly, or conversely,
jamming them all together at one end of the string! At its simplest, if our
spell requires just one knot, then we’ll probably place this close to the
middle. The same applies to odd numbers – the middle knot should be placed
somewhere near the middle of the cord. I rarely tie more than three in a
single length of cord that is about six to eight inches (15 – 20 cm) long
(depending on its thickness). However there is no unwritten law demanding
that a only certain number of knots must go on a certain length of string.

Affirmation spells usually require the most knots. Affirmations are a series of
statements intended to raise our own consciousness or awareness, or to
precipitate a certain course of action on our part. I find it helps to think of it
as casting a spell on myself!

There is nothing complicated about an affirmation – just think of it as a list of

things to do. A New Year’s Resolution in string. ‘First I shall..... then I
shall... etc.’ Usually affirmation spells tend to use the formula, ‘By the power
of this knot I shall...etc.’ This opens a whole range of possibilities, covering
just about anything.

Once again however, preparation is the key since we do not want to overload
our affirmation with too much information. And yet people do exactly that.
Indeed I’ve some say they need to tie about twenty knots in order to cover
everything they need! This is a complete waste of our energy and on
reflection we will usually find that we have duplicated our intentions to some
extent.

What we must do is distil our desires down into just a few of the most
important things. Obviously this takes some time and effort, but I believe it’s
worth it. Affirmations work best when they are concise. Even the most
ambitious ones can be easily contained within a maximum of nine knots and
often within as few as seven or even three.

I’ve found the easiest way to tie a series knots for a spell is to work them on a
flat surface. This supports my hands and keeps them steady. However, some
people prefer working with the cord in their lap, and there is no problem with
this. Do whatever is easiest for you.

I do find however, that a flat surface is best if we intend adding a bead or two
since they have such a nasty habit of rolling out of reach just when we need
them. A board with a lip, such as a tray, can be very useful then. The last
thing we want is to be scrabbling around looking for beads that have fallen
onto the floor!

Once we are really comfortable with the process, the preparation and
rehearsal time becomes quicker. Eventually we will dispense with much of
it. However, even now when tackling something unfamiliar I can take days
thinking about and planning the spell beforehand.

Some people claim that rehearsals somehow weaken the spell’s power when
we eventually come to cast it. This is not true. What we are doing is just
practising rather than performing the spell in full. That means our will
should not be focused during rehearsal since we are just trying out the
practical side of things. If we want to dye, rinse or even burn the thread then
we do just that until we are comfortable with the process. The spell is there to
serve us and our intention, not the other way around. Be efficient. Don’t
waffle. Just do what has to be done and move on.

Choosing our words (optional)

Although our intention is an essential part of the spell, spoken – or written –
words are not essential in magic and there are times when it’s useful to know
how to cast a complete spell in silence, especially if we don’t have much
privacy. Learning to work a spell ‘in our heads’ is a skill we may not always
use, but it’s good to know how to do it in case we ever need it.

Privacy, or the lack of it, can severely affect how we cast our spells. If we
are surrounded by nosey, unsympathetic people then we’ll probably have to
leave out things like boiling pieces of bark etc. But we can still tie our knots
quietly (or incorporate them into knitting, macramé, crochet or embroidery)
while focussing our intention and will. And this will still be an effective and
powerful spell.

Even if we have total privacy, and want to speak our spell aloud, we should
still have chosen our words in readiness. It’s always better to know exactly
what we want to say and not leave it to chance by the time we get to
performing our spell. However we don’t have to memorise anything. Magic
is not performance art, and we are not actors. If we cast a spell while
worrying all the time about our words or actions, then the chances are that the
spell intention (which is, after all, the really important part) will go out of the
window.

There is nothing wrong with writing the words down. Use your Magical
Journal/Book of Shadows, or even a couple of prompt cards. (If we use the
latter however then we should still keep a written record elsewhere. I know I
keep repeating myself on this, but really, it is so important.) Many a good
spell has been lost and many a poor one has been mistakenly repeated simply
because nobody bothered to write them down and record the results!

To cleanse or not to cleanse? (optional but advisable)

Although I have, in my wild and reckless youth, cast spells on tables covered
in breadcrumbs, cornflakes and occasionally cats, I wouldn’t recommend it.
Cleansing a small working space for ourselves does not need to be a major
operation; we do not need cleansing baths or clouds of incense. If we feel we
have the energy to incorporate such things then fine, do it. Otherwise, just
give everything a decent wipe down, imagining all the magical detritus being
removed along with the grime!

Part of the success of spell casting when we’re solitaries lies in conserving
our energies. If we wear ourselves out with cleansing, then we have less to
expend on the spell itself. On the other hand, working against energies that
could have been removed with a little cleansing beforehand will also drain
us. As always, just aim for balance. Don’t overdo things. And remember to
be organised.
Being organised has never come easily to me, so I know what I’m talking
about here. I worked for many years in a kind of glorious muddle. I knew
where things were (most of the time), but nobody else had a clue. As I’ve
grown older however, I’ve realised there are advantages to being organised.
It saves time and energy, for a start.

As I’ve already mentioned, I don’t normally cast a circle for this kind of
spell. The only exception I would make is if we have to work in a
particularly hostile environment such as a haunted house, or with some spells
for psychic self defence.

Even then, a simple salt circle will usually do the trick, and there have even
been times when I’ve worked inside a rope circle. This is a length of rope,
soaked in salt water that I pull over me (rather like a baggy jumper) and then
spread out on the floor around me so that I don’t have to actually step inside
it. It’s a very useful method of carrying a small circle with us at all times.
But it’s best used only when absolutely necessary.

Blessing the things we use in a spell (optional)

I always think blessings should be quite simple. For example: ‘I bless this
cord.’ It’s not very extravagant and while it may be too plain for some, it
says what we mean, and that’s what matters. Personally I tend to use ‘Be
blessed, this cord,’ simply because it sounds firmer, more authoritative. At
the start of a spell I always feel I can do with any spare confidence that might
be swanning around in the atmosphere!

However, if we feel we would like to make a little more effort here, perhaps
to ensure that our cords, beads etc., are on our side, we could try something
like this:

Be blessed this cord, with my intent

And stay true to my will.

At this stage we don’t need to start setting out exactly what our intention is;
there is plenty of time for that later. And of course we can adapt the same
formula given above for blessing beads, cords, bark and anything else we will
be using that we feel could benefit from a little extra boost of magical energy.

Do we need to believe in magic? (essential)

In a word, Yes. I’m not talking here about blind faith which is every bit as
dangerous as blind scepticism. I’m talking about common sense. So if
you’re the sort of person who says, ‘Of course I don’t really believe in all this
magic stuff...’ and then goes ahead anyway and casts their spell, please don’t
wonder why it didn’t work.

The fact is that magic often doesn’t work for sceptics. Sometimes I don’t
understand why they bother. They are so busy feeling embarrassed or cynical
about the whole thing that it’s like throwing a wet tea towel over a chip pan
fire. Doubt and derision smother all the skills and energy needed for the
spell. Then it fails and becomes a self fulfilling prophecy.

However there are times, and we all experience them, when we notice we
feel a little uneasy, usually because our magical radar is trying to alert us that
something is wrong. Perhaps our intention is unclear, or worse may be
unintentionally harmful, especially if we’re doing the spell on behalf of
someone else, who might be trying to deceive us in some way in order to
persuade us to perform their spell for them.

So, if we feel uncomfortable casting a spell, the remedy is simple: don’t do

it. Instead we should remove ourselves from it, and go and read, walk, dance,
enjoy ourselves or whatever. Usually once we distance ourselves from the
spell, we can better see what’s causing the problem.

The Colour of the Cord (optional)

We may intend only using a single, natural colour cord. However, if we are
going to use one or more colours then this may be the time to remark upon
that fact as part of the spell. Yet announcing the reasons for our choice tells
us nothing new, while the gods or powers we intend working with are almost
certainly aware of our reasons already, without us needing to say anything.
So why mention it?

The reason is that each statement forms part of our magical narrative, which
in turn helps maintain our magical focus. We don’t have to speak this aloud,
but we do need to be aware of it. Some people find awareness easier than
others, but for those that don’t, explanatory statements are very useful. We
might say something like:

I choose this colour thread (blue/green/whatever) because it symbolises [and

here state just what it is meant to symbolise. As always, be brief and clear,
there’s no need to embellish.]

For example, suppose we are casting a spell to ensure a safe holiday for
ourselves or indeed, for somebody else. Then we could say something like:

I choose this blue thread to represent the sea I will cross in my holiday
journey.

Or we might say:

I choose this colour red to symbolise the healing power in every knot I tie

Or

I choose this colour red to symbolise the infection and fever running through
[Name’s] body.

Notice though that all we are doing is explaining why we chose that colour.
Nothing more.

If we are using two colour threads then we’ll need to repeat this explanation
of our choice for the second colour as well. We might even wish to add
something like, ‘Taken together they represent...’

Now yes, this does sound simple and pretty basic. But you would be amazed
the number of people who find this sort of thing a stumbling block. They
know the answer is probably simple, but have nobody to ask, and fear asking
someone more experienced in case they’re laughed at. So I make no apology
for including this really basic information. Someone, somewhere, will
always be glad of it.
Normally I would not recommend using more than two or three different
coloured threads. There is a good reason for this. Remember those multi-
coloured strips of Plasticine that used to be so popular for children years ago
(and probably still are, for all I know)? They were wonderful when they
were new and all the colours were fresh and clean. But gradually bits stuck
to each other and we ended up with a great blob of disappointing, muddy
brown colour Plasticine.

Well, that’s what happens – magically speaking - when we mix too many
coloured threads together. If we cannot do a spell without needing more
than two or three colours, then there’s probably something wrong with it and
it needs a bit of a rethink.

So remember: The main advantage of stating what the colour thread

represents is that it makes us focus on what the knot is supposed to do.

The Purpose of the Knots (essential)

In Knot Magic the knots accomplish one of two tasks: they either interrupt a
flow of energy (such as bringing down a fever) or they reinforce the pre-
existing flow. We need to decide which it is to be before we start our spell.

For example, we might need to tap into a flow of energy in the form of
knowledge. We don’t want to interrupt or block that stream of knowledge,
what we want is to reinforce it and above all, to access it for ourselves.
Knowing this helps us decide what the knot represents. So we could – later
in the spell – try something like:

Just as I tie and tighten this knot,

So may I improve my understanding of...

Here we can see that the knot is being used to tighten our ‘grip’ on something
without trying to block the flow of energy or strangle it. If we want
something a little more elaborate then try:

Just as I tie this knot so may

My love of learning grow,
And tightening it –so! may I
This subject learn and know.

Not great poetry certainly, but it is a clear spell and has rhythm. The spell
only rhymes in accordance with the action of tying the knot. Here the word
‘so!’ is uttered just as we physically tighten the knot.

Obviously, there is no reason why tying the knot and tightening it should
always be two separate actions. You could simply tie a knot while saying:

‘With this knot I will find out more about... and gain the knowledge I am
seeking.’

For comparison, using a performative formula instead the same spell could
read:

With this knot, may my love of learning grow. The thread tightens thus!
[Here tighten the knot] and so I clasp this knowledge to my heart, where it
may take firm root and increase.

I chose the example of doing a spell to increase knowledge because, on the

face of it, this seems such a positive intention. Ever since childhood we are
taught to value education and to set great store by getting good results in
class. But of course, knowledge – like magic – comes in all shapes and
sizes. Sometimes the pursuit of knowledge can lead to terrible crimes being
committed. History is full of such examples.

So we must never make the mistake of assuming that any magic is always
either negative or positive in intention. Here is another example, again using
the theme of gaining knowledge:

With this knot I bind myself to searching

For the knowledge that I need so I can grow in wisdom.
Tying it tight I bind myself to learn ,
To study, understand and to know.

Or we could say something like:

By the power of this knot I bind unto myself the knowledge I have learned
about (name the subject here)... May I always use this knowledge with
fairness, wisdom and compassion.

These are basically binding spells, since we desire to bind ourselves to

knowledge and learning. People often caution against all binding spells, but
really, it all depends on the type of knowledge being sought.

And the same applies to blessings. Think of the implications for example, in
unintentionally blessing a serial killer with the intention that he, ‘...has a
wonderful day and achieves all he desires.’ An extreme example, certainly,
but it shows the dangers even in something as apparently innocuous as a
blessing.

I hope by now I’ve explained how important it is to avoid lazy

generalisations and instead look into the heart of each and every spell we
cast. Even after a lifetime of magic and spell work, I still need to allow
enough time to explore each and every aspect of a proposed spell. Only once
I am convinced that I fully understand the matter in hand do I begin actually
working on it. I may not always get things right (and I would be extremely
suspicious of anyone who claims otherwise) but at least I know I’ve tried my
best.

However, I should point out (as I always do) that our spells need to be
underpinned with some practical support too. I remember when I was young,
reading Little Tuk by Hans Christian Andersen. This told of a boy who
revised by putting his geography book under his pillow before going to sleep
on the night before an important test in school. Unfortunately there are still
people out there who are still seduced by such ideas, not realising that true
magic is hard work in its own right.

Magic is a bit like fertiliser. It improves the soil, certainly, but we still need to
plough the field, plant the seeds and look after them. If we are lazy about our
magical work, hoping to get by with a lot of noise and the minimum of effort,
we may be in for some very unwelcome surprises.

However, if we work with magic, intelligently, humbly and with compassion

then we will be well on our way to becoming wise, efficient and reliable
casters of spells.
 Chapter Twelve
Practising our Spell - the Trial Run

Sometimes I’ve heard people say they simply cannot afford the time and
energy for preparation and practice. My response is always, ‘But do you
want your spell to work? Because if it goes wrong, then it’s our responsibility
to clean it all up, and that will take a good deal longer than any preparation.’
In my experience the usual reason spells ‘go wrong’ is because they weren’t
properly thought out in the first place! Believe me, it’s quicker to make the
time for preparatory work rather than have to pick up the pieces afterwards.

Yet people still dread such preparation, fearing it has to be lengthy and
exhausting. It doesn’t. Small things help, such as keeping our preferred
threads etc., in a tin or box, and separate from the balls of string we use to tie
up our bin bags or runner beans. Just as we should aim to ‘Know what we are
about,’ so it also makes sense to ‘Know where things are.’ If we use beads
then we must ensure they will work with our threads. It’s no use finding the
perfect bead for our spell only to discover at the last minute that our chosen
cord is too thick to thread through it!

Sometimes however, we just have to use whatever is to hand, and then we

just cleanse it and don’t worry, since worrying solves nothing but has a nasty
habit of rubbing off on our magic. Besides, our spells are unlikely to infuse
the refuse sacks with fairy dust and it’s a fair bet our runner beans will not
suddenly grow up into the sky like Jack and the Beanstalk just because we
use the ‘wrong’ twine!

With practice and as we become more skilled, we will begin to recognise our
individual talents. Some of us are best are spoken charms, others with
meditative ones, some prefer using their breath to ‘fix’ each knot. Still others
have remarkable skills at tying ornate and powerful knots. Like all talents
however, practice is the key. We cannot expect to simply tie a knot,
pronounce a ‘magic spell’ and walk away again. Yes, we might get away
with it once or twice (there seems to be a certain amount of beginner’s luck in
magic as in most things) but if we want our magic to be reliable then practice
is the key. In the long term, unreliable magic is worse than useless.

The sort of spells we like to cast, and how we cast them largely depends on
our pre-existing strengths. I always had to work hard at knots, especially if I
wanted to try something new. Others may find they need practice when they
change to a different type of cord, or with organising and putting the spell
together so that it runs smoothly.

For example, we might need to practise in order to place our knots evenly
along a cord so we don’t run out of space. For three or four knots we can
usually make a visual judgement. For more however, try dabbing a coloured
felt pen along the cord at the required intervals. That way we can tell if our
knots are taking up too much (or too little space) well in advance of the final
knot. After two or three practice runs we can throw the felt pen away and
just get on with the knotting!

This might sound a childish solution, but the simplest ideas are often the best:
easy to remember and perform. We don’t want to be hampered by nagging
worries while casting a spell, and a little self confidence always improves our
magic. Spells are no time for dithering or self doubt and with practice I
assure you your confidence will grow and these early failures can be kept to
a minimum.

In Chapter Ten we looked at the significance of numbers and saw how

ambiguous they can be. There is no ‘correct’ number for any particular
intention. Once we’ve really thought about our magical intention, and
distilled it down to its simplest form, the number of knots (and threads for
that matter) usually becomes clear. We may be influenced by the number of
parts to our spell, the number of people involved, dates, ages etc., and it’s
best to go with what feels right (preferably using nine knots or less),
remembering to make a written note of what we do and why we need to do
it.

For example, if there are three component parts to our spell, then three knots
would be the most obvious solution. We could set it out like this:
 With this knot may [Name] be healed.
With this knot may [Name’s] doctors discover the cause of his/her illness
With this knot may [Name] make a complete recovery.

This is simple, direct and to the point, which is really all we need. If the part
about doctors discovering the cause of the illness is not appropriate then
leave it out – don’t include it just for the sake of having three knots.

Alternatively, some people prefer to repeat one line three times. They feel
this helps them concentrate and re-enforces the spell intention. If we choose
this option then I would not recommend more than three knots. There is
nothing to be gained in using more, no matter how strongly we feel about
healing someone. Our spell’s power lies not in the number of knots, but in
the will we bring to bear on each one, and the clarity of our intention. Magic
does not appreciate being stretched too thinly!

Just as we consider the number of knots to be tied, so, if we intend using

beads, this is the time to stop and think about how many we will need.
Perhaps we might use one bead with a knot tied either side to keep it in place,
and use performative intention ‘With this bead I....’ as the bead is carefully
threaded onto the cord. As with the number of knots, I would advise
restricting the number of beads used; after all, we’re not making a necklace!

Of course although beads resemble knots and can be tied into the string
(using a simple overhand knot either side to hold them in position if we don’t
want them sliding around all over the place), they also have their own
magical properties. For example, beads can be removed from a cord but
obviously cannot be undone. Also their colour and shape may be significant
and they can be painted and/or engraved with initials and symbols.

All these things help personalise the spell. However, they are not essential,
and we are just as capable of producing a first rate spell using a length of
white parcel string and a single knot provide our intention and will are
properly focused.

It’s important never to allow ‘extras’ to become the be-all-and-end-all in our

magic. Yes, there are times when we may want to add a things – music,
chants, beads etc., - but we have to see them for what they are – extras. They
are not essential and an expensive bead or cord can never compensate for a
badly thought out spell or one that is performed when our mind is not fully on
the matter in hand.

Tying the Knots – the problem of disassociation

As part of our preparatory work we should already have decided whether we
are going to use a magical formula (such as performative intention or the
‘Just as... so may...’ formula). And as I’ve mentioned there is no harm in
writing down what we want to say as a prompt, either. But how do we
choose the best words to suit our knots?

For a spell to be reliable and to fulfil its purpose accurately, any words and
actions we use must be linked to the spell intention. The problem with Knot
Magic is that in everyday life we do not really use the word ‘tie’ all that
often. It just doesn’t sound right. It conjures up images of tethering horses,
tying people’s hands behind their back, tying in bows in our hair or shoelaces
and maybe tying the knot i.e., getting married. But that’s about it, and it’s
not enough for most magical purposes.

I believe it’s this distance between what we say and what we think that
causes most difficulty in our magic. For example, if we stand there saying
‘Just as I tie this knot so may I write my autobiography,’ it sounds forced and
unreal. The knot and the writing have no obvious connection. It’s a form of
disassociation.

This disassociation is a problem I’ve encountered time and again when I’ve
run workshops and replied to queries about Knot Magic. So many people
work as solitaries and have nobody to ask when something doesn’t quite
seem to work for them. Even those in groups may feel their question is so
obvious, just to ask will make them appear foolish.

But it isn’t obvious, of course. It’s a very real problem, the sort that scuppers
us before we start and makes us reach instead for reassuring spell books that
simply tell us what to do so that we don’t have to really think for ourselves.
And that’s such a pity.
Luckily, there is a very easy solution to hand in the English language, which
is rich and full of surprises. All we have to do is remember that we never just
‘tie’ a knot. We can tighten a knot, create a knot, generate, craft, build,
secure, make fast, gird, fasten, set up, close, contract, condense, bring it into
being, and give life to it, just to give a few examples. These different
descriptions hold the key. All we have to do is to find the best narrative for
our intention.

In the example I gave above, ‘Just as I tie this knot so may I write my
autobiography,’ we saw no obvious link between tying a knot and writing.
So the narrative is broken and this in turn damages the intention within the
spell. It just doesn’t sound right. However, if we think of ‘creating’ a knot,
then at once there is an obvious link between that and creating a piece of
writing.

Sounds simple? Yes, it is. And it also reflects perfectly the dictum, ‘As
above, so below.’ So now – at the risk of being pedantic – let’s look at some
other options that join language and knots together:

‘Just as I tighten this knot, so may I tighten my hold on my job, so that I stay
employed with XYZ company.’

‘Just as I create this knot, so may I create this painting/book/poem etc.’

‘Just as I generate this knot, so may I and my partner Name generate a baby
together.’ (It goes without saying that it’s really important to add the word
‘together’ here!)

‘Just as I give birth to this knot, so may I have a safe pregnancy and give
birth to a healthy baby.’

Tying off the cord at birth marks the end of the physical connection between
mother and baby. It is the beginning of the infant’s new life as an individual.
In the same way, we can use the ‘tying off’ imagery in our spell if we want to
mark the magical end of something, such as a job, relationship or even
moving house. So we could use something like:
‘Just as I tie off this knot in this cord, so may I mark the end of this job and
the start of my new career.’

In the same way as we may create a knot, so we can also think of it as

building something new. This opens a whole realm of possibilities for
activities that may not be exactly creative but which nevertheless require that
we work towards a given intention.

For example: ‘Just as I build this knot, so may I build a network of contacts
to help me in this business venture.’

Or we could try: ‘Just as I make this knot secure, so may my family be secure
(you might want to add in the particular type of security you are thinking
about here – such as ‘Secure in their home;’ ‘Secure financially;’ ‘Secure in
the love they all have for each other.’)

The term ‘to make fast’ can also mean to make something secure. This could
be used in a protective spell against theft, for example:

‘Just as I tie this knot and make it fast, so may my motorbike stay fast that
nobody may steal it.’

We do have to be a bit careful with this one though, otherwise we run the risk
of making something so fast and secure that we cannot get it to move again!
Normally I suspect that the Universe has a way of making sense from our
spells, but it’s always advisable not put it to the test too often.

‘Setting up’ is another useful term for a knot. ‘Just as I set up this knot, so
may my new venture (and here you need to say what it is – education,
business venture etc.) be set up successfully.’

An alternative wording (especially if it is a solo enterprise) could be, ‘...so

may I set up my new venture.’

However, if we are embarking on a partnership, or entrusting an important

part of the business set-up to someone else (perhaps a website designer) then
it is probably best to name them, for example:
‘... so may [Name] and I set up our new venture.’ The difference is subtle
perhaps, but nevertheless important.

In English, ‘to close’ can mean several different things, for example, to shut
something, to block or exclude it, or to shut it off in some way. It’s useful in
spells and can be used in statements such as:

‘Just as I tie and close this knot so may [Name’s] anger/spite, be closed off
from me and from those I love.’

Or ‘Just as I tie and close this knot, so may [Name] be closed off and shut
out of my life.’

This is especially useful when we’re trying to make a new start in life, or
trying to escape a painful or difficult situation.

Something else we do when we tighten a knot is make it smaller. So Knot

Magic can be useful when we want to shrink something. Before we start
mentally visualising fairy tales where someone is transformed into a frog,
there are more useful applications such as:

‘Just as I shrink this knot, may [Name’s] fever shrink and leave him.’

‘Just as I shrink this knot, so may my despair shrink and leave me.’

Sometimes we tie our knots in a single cord, but at other times, and especially
if we want to create a connection with our spell, then it makes sense to reflect
this physically by using two cords, and then saying (or thinking) something
like, ‘Just as I tie this knot and connect these two cords, so may I...’

Exercise
The possibilities for this type of linking together of words and intentions are
endless, and so for this exercise I would like you to take a little time to try
and think of other examples. Jot them down in your Magical Journal or Book
of Shadows, paying particular attention to words and situations you feel are
most likely to crop up in your magical work. Gradually add to them if and
when necessary.

Using the Breath

An alternative approach is to simply tie the knot, breathe on it while
visualising what we want the spell to do, and finally say (or think), ‘By the
power in this knot, may....’

The magical thinking behind this is that the spell will work because we have
tied the knot and empowered it with our intention, which is carried on our
breath. Because our breath comes from within us, it contains our personal
magnetism or essence which is impregnated into the knot when we blow on
it. Our final words simply reinforce what we have already done. The power
is already in the knot by the time we speak.

Tying the Knots – when does the spell happen?

The spell is sent out to do its work, I believe, when we tighten each knot.
However, there probably will have been some magical changes going on
from the moment we first started to think about our spell. Hence the
importance of preparation; far from weakening our magic, it actually
reinforces it.

It’s important therefore, before casting our first knot spells, or even before
using a new cord for the first time, to get a feel for tightening each knot.
And knots differ too, with some tightening quickly, while others need a more
gentle approach to get them to close evenly. Knot Magic – even when we
only use a few knots – has a rhythm of its own. We just have to learn to
recognise it.

For example, people sometimes ask when exactly should the knot be tied and
tightened: just before, just after or during the spoken part? (This is assuming
we aren’t going breathe on the knot). There is no answer that will suit
everyone and I think this is a rhythm that each of us chooses instinctively
although there have been occasions when I suspect the rhythm has chosen
me! If we cannot feel the rhythm for ourselves, then the next best thing is to
be guided by the natural stresses in the words. For example, if we say
something like, ‘Just as I tighten this knot, so may [Name] be healed’ then
we will probably want to tighten it either just after the word ‘knot’ or just
after ‘healed.’

In practice, most of us tend to begin tying the knot as we begin to speak, and
aim to tighten it as we finish speaking even if this means slowing or speeding
up what we say a little in order to make everything fit together neatly. Again
it’s worth checking and practising first, although we shouldn’t focus our will
until ready to cast the spell.

Exercise
Building on the previous exercise, return to your Magical Journal or Book of
Shadows and write out one or two of the statements again. Then take a piece
of string and tie a single knot, working out exactly where the tightening
should occur and marking it on the page. In the examples below, the first
underlining marks the tying of the knot, while the second marks the point of
tightening:

Just as I tighten this knot, so may [N] be healed

Or

By the power of this knot I bind unto myself the knowledge I have learned
about (name the subject here)... May I always use this knowledge with
fairness, wisdom and compassion.

Of course you may feel as you practice that my markings are way off, e.g.
you might prefer to tighten on the word ‘bind’ in the example above. We
should never do something just because we’re told to, but only if it feels right
to us. And when you find a rhythm that suits you, remember to write it
down. It saves time in the long run!

Spells with beads

If it is difficult to find appropriate words for tying knots so that we can
associate and visualise them as part of our spell, then in my own experience
choosing appropriate words for threading or sliding beads onto the cord is
even more worse. A quick trip to the thesaurus only provides words such as
glide, move, shove, launch, propel, and thrust. Yet with a little imagination
these are still useful and with time you may well think of extra words that
will suit. Perhaps the most helpful is the word ‘move’ which would suit any
number of spell intentions, for example something like:

‘Just as I move this bead smoothly along this cord, so may my planned house
move go ahead without any difficulties or obstructions.’

I can’t think of many uses for ‘glide’ unless it was connected with skating
perhaps, and ‘launch’ and ‘thrust’ don’t really seem to have much in common
with threading beads (at least not in the sort of spells I usually cast).

However, perhaps if we think of pushing the cord through the bead – rather
like being in a tunnel, we could link the action with ‘light at the end of the
tunnel’ situations. Then we could say something like:

‘Just as I thread this cord through this bead and out the other side, so may I
see some hope, a light at the end of the tunnel with my health/job/relationship
etc.’

Sometimes we have to get very creative indeed with our magic!

Using chants in a spell

I have left this until the end of the chapter because – in my own experience
anyway – not many people use chants in Knot Magic even if they otherwise
enjoy chanting as part of a celebration or ritual. The main difficulty with
chanting and tying knots is one of timing and concentration and trying to fit
them together without paying too much attention to one and not the other.
Also we are not much used to chanting nowadays, although I did once know
someone who could happily chant Anglican plainsong, while at the same
time reciting instructions for filling in her tax returns!

If we are determined to chant in our spell, I would advise starting with a

short, three knot spell, perhaps to protect someone when travelling, and in
order to ensure they return safely. This could be as simple as ‘Merry meet,
merry part and merry meet again.’ Setting this to a chant, we could try
singing just the final line to ‘May the Circle be Open but Unbroken.’ (There
are usually several versions of it on YouTube if you’re not familiar with it).
Resist the temptation to use the entire chant however, concentrating only on
the final line where the heaviest stresses fall on meet, part and again. Those
are the places where each knot needs to be tightened.

The obvious advantage with this example is that since the words are so well
known, we won’t have to struggle to memorise them or need to write them
down. We just have to be careful when we chant not to stop concentrating on
our intention. We need to practice chant with the knot tying but without the
intention until we are confident, then repeat it while focussing on our
intention and will. If we can manage it of course, then it is yet another useful
skill to have.

But now, having tied our knots, it’s time to bring the spell to an end...
 Chapter Thirteen
How to Finish the Spell

It’s very important to plan how to mark the end of our spell rather than
simply allowing things to drift. Rather like forgetting to hang up at the end
of a telephone conversation, unless we draw our spell properly to a close, we
risk rambling on unknowingly, perhaps allowing the inclusion of things that
were never intended. We can end the spell spectacularly, or quietly. The
choice is ours. But end it, we must.

Usually I prefer to close my spell quietly, but this is because all my magic is
kept as simple as possible. So for me, when the spell is ended I might just
say ‘Fiat.’ (This is Latin for ‘Let it be done’ and should be pronounced as
figh-at, not fee-at). For me the word acts as a marker between the magical
and the everyday worlds. Other similar phrases include ‘So mote it be,’ ‘So
be it,’ or ‘Blessed be’. I then breathe out using a long breath through slightly
pursed lips in order to propel the magic on its way.

But that’s just me. Others might prefer to end the spell with something
decisive, such as a short, sharp hand clap, a snap of the fingers or even by
stamping their feet. All these endings have the same purpose, i.e., to disperse
the magical energies and set them free to do their work.

Disposing of the Knotted Cord (optional)

Normally I would say that once a spell is over then that’s it. Let it go, don’t
brood on it or worry about it otherwise the energies we expend on such things
can act like a magnet, pulling the spell back towards us instead of letting it
speed towards its destination.

So in many (but not all) spells, we will need to dispose of the knotted cord.
We can burn it, throw it into running water or bury it, always remembering
that if we choose either of the last two options then the cord should be made
of a natural fibre so that it will decompose.
Some cords, such as nylon, will neither decompose nor burn properly. For
much the same reason I would rather not use plastic beads. Wood, horn or
shell are better unless we intend keeping the knotted spell with us
indefinitely. Whatever we decide to use, all burning should be done out of
doors, preferably on a calm day and with a bucket of water close by as a basic
safety precaution.

If we’ve decided to burn our cord, we still have to dispose of the ashes
afterwards. I usually sprinkle mine with salt and then bury them. If we don’t
have a garden in which to do this, then one alternative is to use the bottom of
a flower pot. Whatever method we choose, it’s best to do it as soon as
possible after finishing our spell.

Human nature being what it is however, some people become very attached
to the knotted cord from their spell. And of course there is nothing wrong
with keeping it in some circumstances. For example, a spell to get rid of
something really should be ended by our destroying the cord. However a
spell to keep something with us, or to keep a relationship or job might justify
our keeping the cord for a while. Cords from healing and protective spells
work may also be preserved, at least for as long as the healing and protection
is required.

If the knot work in our spell is in some way wearable, such as a simple
macramé bracelet or pendant with a single, figure-of-eight knot, etc. then so
much the better. It can also make quite an acceptable gift if we perform the
spell for a third party. If this is not possible however, then just keep the piece
somewhere safe on their behalf for as long as necessary.

As we can see from this, our decision whether or not to dispose of the cord is
very much a case of ‘As above, so below.’ As a simple guideline therefore, if
the spell should be kept close, then keep the cord close. Otherwise, let it go,
set it free.

Disposal of the bark and the barking solution (optional)

If we use a bark solution as part of our spell, then we have to get rid of it
somehow. Whether we make a small ritual of this is up to us, but now our
spell is over and whatever we do should use the minimum of energy. Our
ritual need not be long or elaborate, we can just thank the bark briefly for the
part it has played in the spell, then empty it onto the ground and return it to
the earth. The most important thing is that our thanks should be genuine and
from the heart. Magic has a way of weeding out insincerity.

So we could say something like:

‘Thank you for being part of this spell to (and here give the intention as
briefly as you can.) I now set you free and return you to the earth.’

Another possibility is to make a small libation or offering of the barking

solution. While pouring the liquid onto the earth, just say something like:

‘Mother Earth, accept this gift of oak/birch and water, given with my love.’

For disposing of the pieces of bark I would recommend burying them in the
garden or at the bottom of a flower pot if the pieces are reasonably small,
breaking them up first if they’re not. Alternatively there is no reason we
can’t recycle them with the garden waste.

If we want to make a ritual out of this, however then we can formally return
them to Mother Earth, thanking Her for the loan of them.

‘Mother Earth, I return these pieces of bark to you for your safekeeping with
thanks and blessings. All that comes from you, eventually returns to your
arms. Thank you. Blessed be.’

Although I’ve given detailed instructions, the important thing is that when we
end a spell, it should feel over. Finished and done with. We should never
feel like a party host with a pile of washing up and little to show for it. We
should not feel exhausted or taken for granted. A good spell is like a good
lesson. We should feel glad to have known it.

And although my instructions in these chapters are undoubtedly long-

winded, remember they are only suggestions and should be regarded as a
guideline, nothing more. Reading through takes only a very little time, but it
is worth doing. We may decide we never want to use a bark solution, or use
it constantly. Alternatively we may decide it will be an essential part of our
work for certain types of spell only. The important thing is to understand
why we do things. All my suggestions are simple because, at its heart, magic
is simple. Down the millennia, people have dressed it up with robes and
tools, chanting in foreign languages and even – I kid you not - in complete
gibberish that isn’t any language at all!

Magic may require work and preparation, yet it is gloriously straightforward

too; it consists basically of will and intention: what we want and how we can
magically conspire to make it happen. And we can do it – sometimes all we
need is a little push and a helping hand.

Years ago, I remember being in the library with my children. I always went
with them because sometimes it could be difficult for them to find exactly
what they were looking for, and children need to be taught how to get the
most from their library.

Anyway, one day, a boy from their class turned up wanting to join the library
and borrow a book for his homework. The librarian was busy, didn’t have
time to help much beyond a bit of basic advice, but sent him off in the
general direction for what he wanted. He just stood in front of the books,
totally baffled and getting angrier at his own confusion by the minute. In the
end, and before I could go over to him, he picked a book, glanced at it, then
threw it down on the floor and stormed off. Nobody could ever persuade him
to go there again.

And this is what often happens with magic. Unless someone is there to talk
us through every single step, something will trip us up. And it’s almost
always something tiny, something simple. But unless someone helps us, we
often can’t find a way around it. Yet there is no shame in not knowing
something, and anyone who makes us feel otherwise is not worthy to call
themselves a teacher. When we are in a position to help others we should
always remember what it felt like when we didn’t know something. Once we
have the basic knowledge it is up to us to make the magic dance!
 Chapter Fourteen
Knot Magic and weather
Shakespeare seems to have known a thing or two about Knot Magic when he
wrote Macbeth. In Act iv Scene I he has Macbeth state, ‘Though you untie
the winds...’ which links in very well with what we know of witches and
magicians tying up winds in knots and then unleashing them.

Many years ago, for example, fishermen from Portessie on the north east
coast of Scotland, got hold of a piece of twine with three knots tied in it.
Although they never admitted to buying the knots, they probably did, wanting
to get home quickly with their catch. The wind-seller gave them precise
instructions: the first knot had to be untied when the sail was raised, and the
second after a time, just to call up a little more wind. Nothing seems to have
been said about the fateful third knot and when they found themselves
becalmed they decided to undo it. Suddenly all hell broke loose, a storm
erupted and ‘we hardly escaped with our life’ (Gregor 1886:9).

This warning about the ‘third knot’ is a common and widespread theme in
folklore, although whether it was real or simply intended to dissuade people
from buying winds is hard to tell. By the early 1900s, although people still
bought winds, especially in Caithness and Sutherlandshire, there seems to
have been a certain embarrassment attached to it as though such practices no
longer had any place in the modern world.

Traditionally winds could be tied up in either a handkerchief or thread (and

occasionally in a towel!) and there were always three of them. The first was
gentle, the second stronger and the third a gale. Since the purchaser was
always warned against undoing the third knot, it might seem a little strange to
bother with it at all. However three is traditionally a magic number, and
perhaps it was felt that unless three knots were tied, the spell would not work
for the first two.

Not all weather magic was carried out by tying knots. The author Sir Walter
Scott once described a visit to Stromness in 1814, when he visited an old
woman who sold winds by boiling her kettle to ‘procure a favourable gale’
(Lockhard 1901 Vol IV). Although at first sceptical, Scott eventually
conceded that the old woman had indeed obtained fair winds for him and his
companions on their journey.

However, whereas Scott’s seller of winds was entirely in charge of the

strength and presumably direction of the winds she conjured, the same could
not be said of everyone who bought knotted cords or kerchiefs. Then the
burden was entirely on the purchaser (usually the boat’s captain or crew),
and the danger lay in either untying the third knot too quickly, or in having a
boat that was just too lightweight to withstand the ensuing gale.

And yet people persisted in buying such cords. The reason is not hard to
guess. Back in the days of sail, getting becalmed far out at sea was no
laughing matter. People could die of hunger and thirst, and even if they had
enough supplies, back before refrigeration was invented an entire catch of
fish could be ruined if the boat did not get back to port quickly enough.
Therefore a strong wind to put the boat back on course was sometimes
essential.

One story describes a fishing boat that was stranded in Orkney for a week.
The crew, desperate to get home, bought a woollen thread with three knots
for the (then) incredibly high sum of half a crown (12½ p in modern money).
The woman who sold them the winds warned them against opening the third
knot, ‘...for the life of you’ (Cameron 1903: 302).

As usual in these stories, the crew undid the first two knots but when in sight
of home they became impatient (or reckless) and undid the last one.
Predictably the ensuing wind blew them ashore, ‘...just as if the boat was a
balloon.’ The story ended with the sailor vowing he would never again buy
winds, suggesting this was really intended as a fable rather than a true
account, and the moral of the story was intended to deter would-be
purchasers.

There are similar traditions in old ballads such as The Mermaid (Napier
1879:106) although here the knots to create the tempest are tied in hair rather
than string or cords. Again we notice the appearance of the magical number
three in magic connected with knots and the weather.

She knotted one ringlet, syne knotted she twain,

And sang-lo! thick darkness dropp'd down on the main,
She knotted three ringlets, syne knotted she nine,
A tempest stoop'd sudden and sharp on the brine.

Given that knotted hair is so difficult to untangle, I suspect that ‘knotted three
ringlets’ might refer to plaits instead. It might even explain the origin of the
popular plaited loaf shapes we see in bakeries which gives us yet another
possibility – that of tying knots for weather magic in bread dough, just before
the final proving. There is no tradition for this, as far as I know, but it could
be interesting to experiment!

Sellers of winds sometimes sold other types of spells, too. A woman named
Mhor Bhan from Assynt in west Sutherland, Scotland, was a famous local
seller of winds. She was murdered by two young men who believed she had
hexed them. Intent on revenge, they crept up behind her, threw a noose over
her head and strangled her. (Notice that a noose too, is a type of knot). For
one brief moment she caught sight of one of them and it was said that her
dying glance drove him insane for the rest of his life (Cameron 1903:301).

Recreating tying up the winds

Although we don’t know exactly how people tied up the winds years ago, we
can make a few educated guesses, and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t try
and recreate our own wind spell. This is where our Magical Journal/Book of
Shadows really comes in useful as a resource for later work. Winds are
skittish creatures at the best of times, and it’s rare for two wind spells to turn
out exactly the same.

There are some extra items we should record when we attempt this type of
work including the moon phase, current weather, temperature and even (if we
have a barometer) the current air pressure. With a written record we can refer
back and check for overall patterns. Although we do not know what
conditions had to be met before the old wind charms were created, we do
know that the cords for wind spells were usually prepared before they were
actually needed, since it is undoing the knot that releases the spell intention.

Basically therefore, the spell has two parts: (1) tying the wind up in the knot
and (2) untying and releasing it. We are never told of any instructions being
given other than to avoid undoing the third knot.

This type of spell allows the two parts to be performed hours – even weeks –
apart. And this of course is another good reason for keeping a record of how
we perform a spell, because we are unlikely to remember much about it later!

Firstly though, we need to think about the purpose of the spell. To bind a
breeze into a cord and then release it. Where does the wind come from?
Where do we want it to go? Although nothing is said about this in old
accounts about selling winds, it seems likely they would have been grouped
together according to direction. Possibly different knots, types of cord or
even colours were used to distinguish them.

A quick look at an ordinary atlas shows how the wind’s characteristics are
influenced by its direction. Winds are always named after the direction from
whence they come, so a south wind comes from the south and heads north.

For example, north winds come down to us (in the UK, at any rate) from the
polar regions, i.e. north, north-west or north-easterly. This involves cold air
moving over the sea, which becomes warmer as the wind moves further
south. The result is the huge fluffy cumulus clouds that bring cold, wet
weather in their wake.

Winds from the south west (again for the UK) begin in warm, tropical areas.
As they head north, they pass over water that is cooler than the air, creating
fog and stratus clouds. These in turn produce drizzle especially around the
coast or over high ground. So winds from this direction produce overcast,
wet weather.

However winds from the south and south east (which occur usually in
summer) pass over more land than those from the south west. Therefore
instead of bringing in rain and fog, they tend to bring warm, dry weather, but
also the very heavy, thundery conditions we sometimes experience in
summer. Easterly winds, especially in winter, bring extremely cold air to the
UK, and include sunshine, rain and even snow.

The following suggestions for creating wind charms using Knot Magic have
worked for me down the years. They are not exhaustive and in time you will
probably find others that suit you better. If we keep recording our methods
then in time we will be able to see what works best for us. So please use the
advice that follows as a guide only – and then build on it and make it your
own.

Using the advice in Chapter Six, we could begin with a blue cord and dip one
end in some dark ink. This would symbolise the progression of the winds
from a light breeze in a blue sky to a heavy storm in a grey one. It isn’t a
traditional method, obviously, but there is no magical law that prohibits it.
So in the early days at least – dying one end of a pale cord with black ink
may help us visualise our intention.

Yet what exactly is our intention? To bind or tie the wind into our knot. To
gather it up and hold it fast before eventually releasing it. And we know
from old accounts that the person casting the spell did not have to be present
when they were untied in order for them to work. So why was the first knot
just a breeze when the third was virtually a hurricane? And how did anyone
know which knot to untie first?

Certainly there is never any mention of wind-sellers telling their buyers

which knot to undo first although perhaps one end was tied differently or
marked in some other way. Even though nobody seems to have remarked on
this, it is nevertheless quite possible since so many accounts of magic are full
of glaring omissions.

However, I suspect it is more likely the answer lies in the number of knots
that were untied. If each knot held the same strength of wind, then it was the
cumulative effect of untying them one after the other that made the winds
increase in strength.

In order to ‘fix’ the wind within the cord, I begin by blowing firmly and
steadily right along its length before tying any knots at all. That means
holding the cord in both hands and blowing along from one end to the other.
Clearly I can’t speak while I’m doing this, so I mentally focus on my
intention instead.

However, I know some people prefer a spoken charm in their spells, so we

could try something such as the following, which we could say aloud just
after blowing on the cord:

And thus I breathe the western winds and hold them close upon, around,
within this cord, Be still now and await my call.

It’s not poetry, but it says what needs to be said. You may prefer a different
wind, or not to name the wind at all, but rely upon whatever direction they
happen to be in your vicinity.

Next, we have to tie the three knots to bind the wind within not only the cord
but also within the knot. We have a to make a choice here: either to cast a
spell for each knot in order to create a stronger wind than the one before it, or
to rely upon the cumulative effect and make the charm for each knot
identical. If we opt for three knots in ascending strength we get something
like this:

The first knot

With this knot (tie the first knot) I bind thee gentle wind.
A gentle breeze, no less, no more.
I bind these tight until this knot is loosed and sets thee free.

The second knot

With this knot (tie the second knot) I bind thee fast with gusts (here blow
several short, sharp breaths onto the knot)
I shut thee up, I bind thee tight, until this knot is loosed and sets thee free.

The third knot

With this knot, oh fiercest wind, I bind thee fast, I tie thee up, (here blow
several of your strongest breaths onto the knot)
Now stay thou must until set free
So mote it be, so mote it be.
Alternatively if we opt for the other option, which is to create three knots
exactly the same, then we just repeat the statement for the first knot.

Although usually I try to avoid archaic language such as ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ in
my magic, I feel it is justified here since we after, after all, addressing the
wind, which is not something we do every day. I like to treat it – as I treat all
types of weather – with some respect. If we prefer however, we can simply
replace it with ‘you’ or whatever we feel is more suitable.

Finally, what about the ethics of weather magic? Just because something is
traditional does not necessarily make it the right thing to do. For example,
there was a time when people thought nothing of sacrificing animals in order
to cast a spell, whereas I hope anyone reading this would feel quite sickened
at the prospect.

So, is weather magic – in all its forms – unethical? Are we really risking
drought, storms and freak weather? Well, in excess, perhaps. But I don’t
believe that the occasional wind charm will upset the entire eco-system and
compromise our ethics. After all, wind rarely travels at a steady speed, but
rather in gusts, and our spell is highly unlikely to produce a tornado or
hurricane since this would require a huge amount of willpower and magical
strength.

In other words, for our spell to risk damaging the climate it would have to be
deliberately destructive. And no single person or even a group is likely to
have the strength to call up tempests and who-knows-what-else sufficient to
cause environmental disaster. Most of us, if we are realistic, will be doing
well if we can call up enough wind to dry a line of washing rather than
flattening the neighbourhood with storms.
 Chapter Fifteen
Knots in Healing and Protective magic, enchanted
cows and Witches’ Ladders
Knots have traditionally been used in many different types of healing magic,
opening or blocking energy channels as required. Perhaps due to their rather
lumpy appearance, knots were often associated with wart cures. Nowadays,
when warts can be easily treated with freezing (cryotherapy) and salicylic
acid, it can be hard to imagine how unsightly untreated warts used to be.
When I was a child I absolutely dreaded them. At one time my hands were
covered, and well-meaning neighbours and aunts suggested all manner of
‘cures.’

Most of these were fairly traditional. For example, I had to tie a knot for each
wart to be treated (it had to be a lengthy piece of string in my case!). Then I
had to touch each wart with a different knot before burying the cord
somewhere nice and damp, since this would help it to rot more easily. While
doing so, I had to repeat the words, 'There is none to redeem it but thee,' a
method that is also recorded elsewhere (Hardy 1878:221).

Areas such as compost heaps or places where garden manure is waiting to rot
down would probably work very well too. The area where I lived was pretty
damp for most of the year however. It is best to use natural cord for this type
of wart charm, since man-made fibres such as nylon will not decay.

The magical thinking behind this is based on the ‘Just as... so may,’ formula.
Just as the knotted cord will rot away, so will the warts, having first been
magically linked to the string by touching each knot in turn. Hair was also
sometimes used for this type of charm although it can be very difficult to tie
enough knots in it and it can take a long time to decompose properly. Other
wart cures, using bacon or cabbage leaves, work on much the same principle.

When I was young it was widely believed that warts were somehow all bound
together, and that if you could get rid of the first wart to appear then the rest
would wither and die naturally. This may also explain why the idea of a
string of knots would appeal, because it represented the ‘string’ of warts.

Occasionally however I come across old accounts of wart healing that really
make me wonder whether the author and I have ever inhabited the same
planet. For example, an account from March 1938, describes a wart cure
dating back to 1887, when a young girl had over fifty warts on her hands.
These bled so profusely she was unable to wear gloves (Hayward 1938:227-
8).

Now I suffered from almost as many warts when I was young, but they
certainly never bled, nor did I ever know anyone else whose warts did (at
least, not unless they had been piercing them with a new pin, which is
another favoured method of wart charming). In fact, warts that bleed
persistently probably indicate some other, more serious underlying problem.

Anyway in this story, the local wart charmer arrived and tied a knot in a piece
of wool for each wart. He also forbade anyone from thanking him. Although
we are not told why, he may have felt that he had not yet effected the cure
and didn’t want to ‘tempt Fate’ by accepting thanks for it in advance. He
then left, taking the piece of wool with him. Six weeks later he sent his
daughter to see whether the cure was working, promising that if it wasn’t
then he would begin a new cure. ‘A careful examination showed that the
warts had really gone, and they never returned.’

Now personally, if I had over fifty warts that were bleeding all the time and
making my life a misery, I would have noticed straight away if even one of
them had disappeared. There would have been no need for a ‘careful
examination.’ The warts weren’t hiding behind a chair, they had gone. In
fact, I would have been dancing up and down for joy by the time the
gardener’s daughter popped by to see how things were going! And this, I
think, is a problem with many of these accounts: those doing the recording
regarded the stories (and sometimes the people involved) as quaint
curiosities, and never thought to ask the right questions when they wrote their
reports.

Knot Magic was also used for treating sprains, especially in animals. The
following knot charm for healing a horse with a sprained leg was once
popular in Ireland and the Highlands of Scotland. Nine knots were tied in a
black woollen thread, which was then wound around the sprain. The person
performing the charm then had to say the following over the knotted thread:

Christ went out

In the morning early,
He found the legs of the horses
In fragments soft;
He put marrow to marrow,
He put pith to pith,
He put bone to bone,
He put membrane to membrane, etc. ‘
(Hull 1910:437-8)

The appearance of Jesus in a magical charm should not surprise us, as the
spell is basically a Christianised version of the famous tenth century Second
Merseburger Charm from Germany. In the original charm, it is Odin who
cures the wounded animal, although the words are very similar. This just
goes to show how the same spell could be adapted to different spiritual
traditions and different deities.

Reef knots were always popular in protective magic, especially when tied in
the hair of a white stallion, around the little finger. This was sometimes
called the heart finger, although this term is also used for the third, or ring
finger. The Romans called the vein in the third finger the vena amoris
because it was believed (wrongly as it turns out) that a special vein ran
directly from this finger to the heart.

There is an interesting Cornish story that describes how, in the early 20th
century, a doctor was called out to a three week old baby whose little finger
was very swollen. He discovered a white hair tied tightly around its finger,
using a reef knot (Taylor 1933:309). Presumably a family member had
secretly tied a piece of white horse hair around the child’s finger in order to
protect it.

The ever curious Roman author, Pliny recommended curing swellings in the
groin due to ulcers, by ‘...inserting in the sores three horse-hairs, tied with as
many knots’ (Pliny, Nat. History Book 28, Chapter 61). Not only would this
have been very uncomfortable, but inserting anything into an ulcer or cyst
would probably cause it to become infected.

Knot Magic seems to have been remarkably flexible. Another use for it was
in healing animals thought to be enchanted, in particular cows who either
weren’t producing milk, or whose milk refused to churn into butter properly.

One cure involved stealing a length of ‘homespun yarn’ from the home of the
person thought to be responsible for the hex, and tie nine knots in it.
However, the ninth knot had to be broken off and thrown over the left
shoulder. The remainder of the yarn was then taken indoors to wherever the
butter was being churned. Next a horseshoe had to be heated (but not so hot
that it turned red) and was placed – along with the yarn with the remaining
eight knots on it - beneath the churn to get the butter forming again
(Singleton 1904:458).

Witches’ Ladders
The problem of bewitched cows and milk that could not be churned into
butter seems to have been prevalent right across Europe over a long period of
time. Just as the solution often involved Knot Magic, so the method of
enchantment may well have used knots tied in a so-called Witches’ Ladder. I
say ‘so-called’ since there are so many conflicting theories about this object’s
origins.

For example, there are tales of witches magically milking their neighbours’
cows by means of a rope. Sometimes the rope was an ordinary tether or rope
halter rather than something that had been purpose made. No knots are
mentioned and the magic was probably effected by means of a charm. In
one such example, a boy from the Scottish Highlands claimed to be able to
steal milk by milking the cow’s rope halter while reciting ‘certain
incantations’ (Napier 1879:75). As usual, these charms were never recorded,
nor are we told whether the boy tied any knots in the rope.

The type of rope used is sometimes significant. While some accounts only
mention ‘a rope’, others specify that it had to be made from tail hairs
belonging to the cows whose milk was to be stolen. This suggests the magic
worked by some type of magical transference. Of course it must have been
difficult to insert such hairs, and perhaps they were twisted in with an
ordinary rope while it was being made. Yet if the ‘witch’ could access the
cows’ hair, it suggests she had some access to the cows too. If so, she might
just have well have milked them manually instead of stealing the hairs and
then using magic.

Many accounts describe the witch ‘pulling’ on the rope as though milking a
cow’s udder, a form of the ‘Just as... so may’ formula. Sometimes, however,
the rope’s power was said to be due to it being used to sweep the May-dew
from the cow’s usual pasture (Henderson, 1879:199). May-dew was always
regarded as powerful (especially as a beauty aid) and again we see magical
transference at work, although perhaps less powerful than the rope containing
the cows’ hair.

Another method for milking several cows in one session required a knot to be
tied for each cow. Pulling on each knot in turn, while uttering a spell (yet
again, the words have not survived) would then cause the milk to flow into
the witch’s bucket (Chambers, 1870: 329).

The idea of using ropes in order to steal milk is an old one. For example, in
1633 in Lancashire, ten year old Edmund Robinson testified in the second
trial of the Pendle witches, that he had seen six people pulling at six ropes
which had been tied to the top of a house. Not only milk, but also smoking
joints of meat and lumps of butter came tumbling down the ropes and into
waiting basins (Harland and Wilkinson, 1867:196).

Edmund later retracted his story, although the fact he was so readily believed
at first does suggest there was a long-standing tradition that milk – and other
dairy products – could be stolen by pulling on ropes, whether or not there
were knots in them. And the rope must surely have been secured with a knot
somewhere, otherwise it would just have flapped around and it would have
been impossible to pull on it.

There is also evidence, especially from Germany and Bohemia, that the best
ropes for milking were cut from a church bell rope. The similarity here,
between ‘pulling’ the bell rope, and pulling the rope for the milking is
unmistakable. A broomstick was another alternative; the method was to push
one end into the wall and then work it like a pump handle. As a result the
milk would flow from the other end of the stick and into the bucket (Frazer
1887:82).

However, I cannot help wondering about such accounts. After all, a simple
hole in a wall simply would not allow the stick to move easily up and down
without breaking, while a larger hole would allow the stick to slip out onto
the floor. Also, if we’re pumping the stick up and down and the milk is
coming out of the handle, then it would surely splatter all over the place as
the stick moved?

One of the problems with witches’ ladders (as opposed to a plain ‘milking
rope’) is that nobody can agree what they looked like. Nowadays it is usually
assumed they were made of thick cord or string, with a loop at one end, and
with feathers inserted at right angles to the cord along its length. Indeed, the
Pitt Rivers Museum in Oxford, has a famous example from Wellington in
Somerset that is a metre and a half long (around five feet) and half an inch in
diameter. This was donated to the museum back in 1911, although it was
much older than that, having been found in the attic of a house belonging to
an elderly woman who was rumoured to be a witch. We do not know her
name nor whether the rumours were true.

The story took off largely because of an article that had been written earlier,
in 1887, by a doctor named Abraham Colles. In it, he described how a
witch’s ladder, along with six heather brooms and an armchair, had been
discovered when a very old farmhouse had been demolished years before
(Colles 1887:1-5). The items had been hidden in an upper room that lacked
any means of access from the ground floor. The chair had a rush seat and
was full of woodworm. With admirable thriftiness, the brooms were given
new handles and used until they finally wore out.

The workmen who found the items had some theories of their own about the
purpose of such objects. Apparently the chair was for ‘witches’ to rest in, the
brooms for them to ride upon and the ladder to enable them to cross the roof.
This suggests the items had a protective function although we don’t know
whether this was a common local belief or just one man’s opinion. However
the ‘ladder’ in the Pitt Rivers’ Museum was believed to cause people’s deaths
although there seems to be no evidence whatsoever to support this.

What is interesting though is that the feathers were apparently inserted into
the rope as it was being made and not afterwards. Therefore the object was
only ever intended to be as it appears, i.e. nobody took a length of rope or
cord and stuck feathers in it. This is very significant, since using new items to
create a magical tool is still the preferred method for many people, as it
avoids the need to cleanse the item first.

Even so, it seems quite likely this was not a witch’s ladder at all, since
pulling on or ‘milking’ a rope with feathers inserted into it would be an
almost impossible task. It would not only be very uncomfortable but the
feathers would snap. Whatever else that cord in the Wellington house was
used for, I very much doubt it was for stealing milk!

Yet the legends persist and while it is true that Victorian and Edwardian
folklorists collected a huge amount of oral material that would otherwise
have been lost forever, they did tend to see things through the lens of their
own expectations. Also we can never be sure just how honest some of their
sources were. People who had kept secrets for years about the way they had
conducted their magic were unlikely to have simply ‘spilled the beans’ to
people they barely knew.

There are of course other items known as witches’ ladders but these look
quite different from the one described above. Some were quite small, just a
few inches long, and made of wheat straw. These, I feel, are more
convincing. They had to be waved a few times while stating what was
required, such as getting the fire to burn, or the irons to heat up properly
(Ashby 1887:84). There is no mention of ‘milking’ them in order to enchant
the neighbours’ cattle, and certainly nothing about causing people to die.
Since these ‘ladders’ comprised just a few lengths of wheat straw tied into a
‘ladder’ shape and with feathers inserted and tied here and there, they must
have been relatively delicate and probably needed replacing after just a
couple of uses.
I am inclined to accept much of what Ashby says, partly because of the
simplicity of his account. For example, he gives clear, unambiguous
instructions as to construction, ‘Take four straws, tie two together, top and
bottom, for one side of the ladder. Tie the other two in same manner, and
then insert short straws between for steps. Now take small feathers and place
them up each side of the ladder, and you have a real Somersetshire witches'
ladder.’

Also, unlike many other accounts of the period, Ashby is quite specific about
what was said and done, i.e. ‘Swing the ladder, saying, ”Burn fire,” “Irons
heat,” &c., and all will be well.’ The man’s simplicity is admirable. There is
no attempt to fob the reader off with any vague statement such as ‘magic
words’. He appears to have just written down what he was told and nothing
more. Of course, the accuracy of his informant is something else altogether,
and cannot be proved either way after so many years.

So what does this mean for a modern witch or caster of spells? I have seen
many websites claiming all sorts of things for witches’ ladders, and I would
really like to believe many of them. Indeed I am sometimes criticised for my
caution. However, although strings, knots, feathers and straw may well be a
part of the picture, I can’t help feeling that since the original idea is lost,
many people are just inventing their own versions. Even back in 1890, just
three years after Colles wrote his influential account, the witches’ ladder was
being described as a ‘...hitherto unnoticed instrument of sorcery’ (Burne
1890:313). Yet still I come across websites quoting ‘Witches’ Ladder Spells’
that they claim are centuries old.

Of course there is absolutely nothing wrong our creating a modern version of

witches’ ladders as long as we don’t try and claim they are traditional when
they are clearly not. A modern version should include the feathers and knots,
and if wheat straw is not easily available, we can tie thin twigs together with
natural materials such as cotton, string or even grass to create each rung of
the ladder.

It is important, too, to keep the ladder small; the one Ashby described was
probably little more than six to eight inches long and about two inches wide.
Anything larger would have wobbled too much! Feathers that we find while
we’re out and about are probably best, but bought ones will do. If it’s too
fiddly to tie them to the frame, then glue them first and then tie with simple
knots once they’re securely in place.

The action accompanying witch’s ladder spells is described as ‘Swinging the

ladder.’ Possibly the idea was to allow the feathers to waft the magic through
the air. It should be a gentle action, I think, not too heavy-handed, especially
if the ladder was originally made – as Ashby suggests – from straw.

Knotted Lace
Another interesting piece of knot work appears in the late fourteenth century
story of Sir Gawayne and Bertilak, the Green Knight. Bertilak’s lady
persuades Gawayne to accept her green lace girdle, telling him it will save his
life in his coming encounter with her husband who intends to behead him.
Unlike most belts, this one has no buckle, but is tied with a knot. Certainly
Gawayne seems to have believed in its power, since although he had
previously agreed to pass on to Bertilak any gifts he received from his wife,
in this instance he decides not to.

Yet Gawayne, being a basically chivalrous young man, is finally overcome

with guilt, especially since the Green Knight never really tries to kill him.
When he returns to Camelot, Gawayne wears the green lace girdle as a
symbol of his disgrace. However, when the Knights of the Round Table hear
his tale they decide to adopt the green lace as their badge, wearing it over the
right shoulder and knotted beneath the left arm. This abrupt change from
disgrace to pride suggests there was indeed some powerful magic present in
the green knotted lace.

Another interesting piece of magical symbolism in this story is that

Gawayne’s personal emblem is described as a golden pentangle on a red
background, sometimes described as an ‘endless knot’ (lines 629-30 Ms.
Cotton Nero A. x ). Possibly Gawayne was already following some magical
interests of his own, and it was these that enabled him to recognise the power
in the green lace girdle. Otherwise he would have handed it over to the
Green Knight straight away. He who carried a magical emblem could be
expected to recognise magic elsewhere!
However, what intrigues me most is the idea of wearing a piece of green
knotted lace for magical protection. Unlike the witches’ ladders, the tradition
does indeed stretch back a long way. Yet it receives little or no recognition
from modern witches. Perhaps this should be rectified. It certainly would be
interesting to see how many people would adopt it for protection!
 Chapter Sixteen
Knotted rags, Trees and healing
No matter what our intention, most magical and ritual acts either say ‘Please’
or ‘Thank you’ in some shape or form and Knot Magic follows this
guideline. One of the most popular folk traditions, where knotted rags etc.,
are tied on certain trees and bushes in order to obtain healing, is also based on
the same premise. We are either saying ‘Please’ to request a cure, or ‘Thank
you’ after the cure has been effected. It is a very old tradition too; two
thousand years ago, the Roman poet Ovid (Fasti III, 267) described how
country people hung rags on the hedge surrounding the sacred grove at
Aricia.

Traditionally, the rags were tied onto the branches rather than being fastened
by clips, pins or any other means, although we don’t know whether a special
type of knot had to be used or whether anything would do. Most people, or at
least those with no special knotting skills, would probably use a very basic
granny knot.

Usually the rags were either bandages or scraps of the patient’s clothing. This
is another example of using magical transference, this time as a link between
the patient and both the disease and its cure. The method dates back to at
least the time of the ancient Assyrians (circa 3rd millennium BCE). The
coming of Christianity did little to prevent the practice either; in the late tenth
century Burchard, Bishop of Worms, still felt he must condemn the tying of
knots and also ‘nefarious bandages’ hidden in trees (McNeill 1933:
Paragraph 54).

Apart from rags and bandages, other things could be used depending on what
was available. These included threads, beads, hairs, etc. They too worked by
connecting the healing power of the tree to the patient via the items’ personal
magnetism and magical transference.

Beads and knots seem to have been natural companions since time
immemorial. The ancient Mesopotamian inscription Muššu ɔ u VIII/d for
healing paralysis in the left hand instructed that beads of iron, magnetite,
alabaster, lapis lazuli; black obsidian, coral and carnelian should be threaded
onto a black string. The tying of seven knots in the thread should then be
accompanied by saying iba ḫ ditto before binding the entire thing around the
patient’s left hand (Böck 2003:13).

A rather more recent example, this time from 1911, tells of a woman from
Guilden Morden, Cambridgeshire, who owned a healing ‘bloodstone’
(Williams 1912, 349). Now although there is a type of stone called a
bloodstone, the one in this example was actually an old bead that had five
wavy lines, two white and three orange. It hung on a piece of red silk with
three knots in it and had been in her family for some time. Her great-
grandfather had bought it for three guineas (an enormous sum at the time) in
order to cure her father’s nosebleeds when he was a child.

Once a nosebleed started, a few drops of the blood were allowed to fall onto
the bead, which was then hung low down on the patient’s back next to their
skin. As the blood dried on the stone, the nosebleed would also dry up and
stop, a good example of the ‘Just as... so may’ principle in magic. This bead
was said to be so effective that people often asked to borrow it. To me, the
cure sounds closely related to the idea of hanging something cold, like a
bunch of keys down the patient’s back in order to staunch the bleeding!

Red was always a popular colour for cords used in healing magic. In the
Anglo-Saxon medical treatise, the Lacnunga (45) tying clove-wort around a
man’s neck with a red thread during April or October on a waning moon was
supposed to cure lunacy. If no leech (healer) was available to perform the
spell, then tying a red thread in a ‘healing’ tree or bush might well have been
regarded as a reasonable alternative.

A red thread, usually of wool, was also sometimes used for tying various
herbs around the head to cure a headache. This may have originated with the
belief that the colour red could expel demons and evil spirits. Years ago,
before the advent of chemical dyes, bright red was a rare and expensive
colour. Therefore any red bandages tied on a healing tree probably were
probably either an earthy, reddish brown or were indeed blood stained. Yet in
Israel, rags tied in healing trees were usually green or white, with white
especially popular in the southern desert regions, and green in the north
(Dafni 2002: 317)

‘Rag Trees’ growing near running water or healing wells seem to have been
particularly popular for this type of magic. At the end of the nineteenth
century, the Journal for St Bartholomew’s hospital (cited in Wetherell 1900)
recorded how, in Devon, people tied three knots in a thread around the branch
of an ash tree growing near a stream in order to cure childhood thrush. This
is a painful condition causing white patches in the mouth, making it difficult
to eat and drink.

For three days, the affected children had to return and tie more knots.
Presumably a family member tied them for very young children. The source
does not tell us how many knots were tied each day, although three seems
most likely (making a total of nine). On the last day, the knotted thread was
passed through the child’s mouth to effect the cure (Wetherell 1900 Vol
vii:187).

Despite the progress of modern medicine, tying rags and bandages on trees in
order to obtain healing still remains curiously popular. It is a pity however
that so many are now tied in synthetic fabrics that will not degrade naturally.
It rather defeats the purpose of the magic!
 Chapter Seventeen
Knots and LOVE SPELLS,
KNOTS AND hexing
We might expect that knots would have played an important role in love
magic, but if they did, then much of that tradition seems to have been lost.
Alternatively it may be that people were secretive about such things since
Knot Magic was also closely associated with hexing performed against those
who were in love. However, in fairness, some classical authors such as Virgil
do mention knots in love spells, as we earlier saw in his eighth Eclogue:

Around his waxen image first I wind

Three woollen fillets, of three colours join'd;
Thrice bind about his thrice-devoted head,
Which round the sacred altar thrice is led.
Unequal numbers please the gods.
My charms, Restore my Daphnis to my longing arms.
Knit with three knots the fillets; knit 'em straight;
And say, "These knots to love I consecrate.”

However, before we get too carried away, we must remember this is a poem,
not a magical text. Winding knots around a wax effigy is interesting and I
certainly know of one or two witches years ago who went in for this sort of
thing. However, Virgil was not (as far as we know) a practitioner of magic
even though by the Middle Ages there were plenty who claimed otherwise.

Virgil may have had many valid reasons for writing as he did. For example,
he may have been presenting an exotic piece of fantasy, with an eye to
dramatic effect rather than magical realism. Or he may have been inspired by
hearing about local magicians via gossip and rumour. He may even have been
drawing on existing popular beliefs and practices that were already well
known to his readers. How far these were honestly represented however, and
how far he added his own ‘spin’ to them is something we shall never know.

Nowadays we tend to think of love spells as being performed to find us a

lover, or to keep someone in our lives. This was very much the case in the
ancient world too; some spells were intended to recover a lost lover, or one
who was simply not interested. Other love spells, known as ‘erotic curses,’
were rather different. These were designed to force the victim to go and
(usually) have sex with whomever cast the spell. This may explain why love
spells are still regarded with suspicion, and are banished towards the shady
end of the magical repertoire.

Knot Magic was also used in order to try and obstruct true love. This is not
just the traditional Knot Magic curse designed to cause impotence, but also to
break the pre-existing affection between two people. Some of this
information has come down to us in the form of folk songs. For example in a
balled called ‘Witch Lady’ we read:

For lang has the Ladye of Earlstone toure

Begrudgit ye yere William's love.
And her witch-knottes power in ane evyl houre,
'Mang his hearte's strings scho has wove...
(quoted in Napier 1879:118)

This shows there was a popular belief in the power of knots and their
association with witchcraft, hence the ‘witch-knottes’.

Another old ballad, Willie’s Ladye, tells of a woman who tries to prevent her
daughter-in-law from having a baby by tying knots (i.e. plaiting) her hair, but
is thwarted when these are untied:

Oh, wha has loosed the nine witch-knots

That were amang that ladye’s locks?
And wha’s ta’en out the kames of care,
That were amang that ladye’s hair?

(quoted in Lang, 2007 edition :179)

This seems to be the female equivalent of ligatura, only in this example it

makes the woman unable to conceive. Now admittedly, just because we hear
songs telling how people are tying knots in hair order to interfere with others’
love lives, this does not prove such things were really happening. Just as
with Virgil’s account, it could be simply a way to ‘spice up’ a story or song
and attract listeners. However the tradition of knots being used in harmful
magic is widespread enough to suggest there was at least some basis in fact.

A less negative story, this time from Wales, concerns a young man who was
anxious to find out the identity of his future wife. He was instructed to make
a garter knotted with nine tight knots and one much slacker one, which had to
be tied around the bed post. Then he placed his shoes and slippers under his
pillow in the shape of the letter T.

While doing this he had to repeat three times, ‘I do this for to see, Who my
future wife is to be, Where she is and what she wears.’ Apart from this, he
was forbidden to speak to anyone while performing this ritual, and then he
had to undress with his left hand only and get into bed backwards (Morgan
1895:204).

What I find particularly interesting about this story is the requirement to place
shoes in the shape of the letter T. Shoes and slippers are both strongly
associated with love, sex and fertility; just think of the tradition of tying old
shoes on the back of the car when a couple leave after getting married! Also,
shoes were popular in the iconography of art, where they symbolised some
sort of sexual relationship in the hidden narrative of a painting.

With regard to the ‘T’ shape, this too is very interesting. As we have already
seen back in Chapter One, the capital letter T is in fact a Tau sign. Quite
apart from being a letter in the Greek alphabet, this is a very ancient shape
associated with creation, regeneration and also (in some of its forms) with
masculinity (Healey 1977:289). This would make it particularly suitable for
this type of spell, especially since it is a man performing it. Whether the
Welshman understood the magical significance of what he was doing
however, we do not know.

All types of magic have their drawbacks, and love spells are no exception.
As we have seen, they have gained a fairly dark reputation over the years.
Nowadays, there seems to be a consensus that they are best avoided.
However, we must be realistic, and I realise that people who are determined
to perform love spells will probably do so anyway.

One word of warning however: the beloved idol, worshipped from afar may
turn out to be quite different from our fevered imaginings. Therefore we
should be very careful what we wish for, because we might not only get it but
be stuck with it. Then what? Must we be tied together for years, and all for
the sake of an ill thought out love spell? This is why, if we want to perform a
love spell using Knot Magic, I would strongly advise the following
precautions:

1. Never cast a love spell without proper preparation or forethought.

2. Think through exactly what you hope to achieve, not just something
vague like ‘everlasting love’ that you may later regret. Be precise. And
always write down your intentions and all other details in your Book of
Shadows/Magical Journal.
3. Carefully follow the basic spell templates given in this book.
4. Do not make the spell permanent especially if it concerns someone you
barely know. Be honest with yourself here. Wishful thinking does not
count and can cause a great deal of misery.

The best thing to do (in my opinion, anyway), is to design the spell to last just
a few weeks, perhaps a month or so at most, with a ‘breaking off’ clause
included. Something like this perhaps:

‘At the end of ......weeks, being the [date], this spell and its effects shall end.
If love still be present, may we continue to love and grow together. If love be
not present, or if it fades for either party, then may we part in friendship and
both be free to find another love.’

This may sound a bit formal, and the part with the date does sound like a
solicitor’s letter, but believe me when I stress how important it is, since we
do not always think straight when we believe we are in love. Yet this is
precisely the time when we are most in need of an objective eye and a cool
magical hand.

Few things are more terrible or destructive than love turned to fear, hatred or
regret. If this happens then we have to be free to move on. Magic is not –
and never should be – a snare. It has no right to trap us and it is up to us
never to grant it such power.

Knots and divination

Since time immemorial people have wanted to know what the future holds
and used many different methods to help them find out. There are all sorts of
reasons for this, two of the most popular being to find out whom one would
marry, or whether one’s current partner was being unfaithful. This was
clearly the more acceptable face of love magic, to discover what would be,
rather than to actively engage and make it happen!

Other popular questions concerned health and money. Again this is

understandable, although discovering who would die in the coming year
might sound a bit ghoulish nowadays. Nevertheless it was a popular subject
for divination just a century and a half ago.

Most people, living in or near the countryside, chose divination methods

using easily available material, such as flowers, fruit and nuts hence the old
ritual of pulling the petals of a daisy while saying ‘He loves me, he loves me
not.’ Very simple and unambiguous.

In some areas, however, such as Oxfordshire, knots were used instead.

Anyone suspecting their partner of infidelity would tie four long blades of
grass together to make a circle. While tying, the following words had to be
recited:

If you love me cling all round me,

If you hate me fall off quite,
If you neither love nor hate
Come in two at last.
(Parker 1913:80)

If the four knots held and the grasses formed a ring then the love was true, if
all the knots came undone, then the lover’s true feelings were of hatred, and
if only some of the knots came undone, then the lover was indifferent.
Clearly much depended on the strength and skill of the knots one could tie!
Knots and hexing
Hexing is generally synonymous with cursing or causing harm to others and
as a magical practice has been around for thousands of years. In the fourth
century BCE, the Greek philosopher Plato stated in his Laws, ‘...he who
seems to be the sort of man who injures others by magic knots or
enchantments or incantations or any of the like practices, if he be a prophet or
diviner let him die...’

Now of course, Knot Magic is no more inherently bad than many other
things. Motoring for example, is something many people take for granted,
even though it claims thousands of lives every year. It makes no more sense
therefore to equate knots with bad magic than with good, since they are only
an outward form of the original magical intention which can be channelled in
many different ways. In other words, it is not the knot that harms, but the
intention of the person casting the spell. And even here, things become a
little complicated.

For example, when we think of Knot Magic, what type of person do we

imagine uses it? It hasn’t been a particularly popular method of spell casting
for years, and even I admit that tying knots in a length of parcel string neither
looks nor feels very ‘witchy.’ In recent times it has almost faded into
obscurity when compared with the beautiful coloured and fragranced candles
and incense that are available to buy nowadays. A yard of parcel twine could
hardly compete!

Yet, centuries ago, it was ligatura, sometimes known as the nouement de

l’aiguillette (literally ‘the knotting of the cord’), or Nestel Knüpfen that was
the most feared magic of all. And it was practised not only by those who
claimed to be skilled in magic, such as wise women or cunning men, but also
by those who condemned it most, i.e. the clergy.

Now we should not really be surprised at this, since there is ample evidence
that some Christian clergy had been involved in magic, divination, charms
and creating amulets ever since the Church began to spread its message
across Europe. Even so, the clergy’s apparently widespread use of magic to
harm people by making them impotent or infertile (usually on their wedding
day) remains fairly shocking. Small wonder then that many people still
refuse to believe it!
Yet there is written evidence to support this from the Clergy themselves. For
example, the thirteenth century Dominican monk, Albertus Magnus seems to
have known something about Knot Magic when he wrote, ‘Take the penis of
a newly killed wolf, go to the door of him you wish to bind and call him forth
by name. As soon as he answers, tie the penis with a length of white thread
and immediately the man will become impotent’ (Muir 2005:46). We don’t
know whether Albertus had ever tried this out for himself, but he certainly
seems to have understood the underlying magical principles of ligatura.

While the Church authorities officially frowned upon and denied involvement
in such activities, many parishioners remained convinced that their priests
were reciting hexes, knotting cords or leaving out essential parts of the
marriage service in order to magically emasculate the bridegroom (Robbins
1997:65). Nor was this confined to the Catholic Church, but included some
Protestant pastors as well.

Although we do not have the exact details of ligatura spells, if we work on

the ‘As above, so below’ principle, then tying knots in string resembles old-
fashioned methods for castrating animals. In other words, Knot Magic was a
magical form of castration for human beings.

If this theory is true, then it might explain why it was believed that some time
after the spell was cast and the magical knots had been tied, swellings would
appear on the cord. Each swelling was said to represent a baby that had not
been conceived due to ligatura.

This also explains why such hexes were so feared, since they threatened the
existence of future generations. Even the most powerful families could die
out within a generation if there was no heir, and the Church regarded
preventing conception to be as great a sin as infanticide, a belief that
continues among some denominations to this day.

So, what could be done? Prevention, then as now, is always better than cure
and there were various measures available to try and avoid being hexed on
one’s wedding day. One popular method was to marry in secret before the
official ceremony, preferably in a different area. Partly this would prevent
the parish priest from performing a hex at the wedding, but also it prevented
future hexes, since couples who had already had sex together were
considered less susceptible to the power of ligatura (Robbins 1997:66).

In fairness, the Church did officially offer some preventative measures, such
as blessing the marriage rings or marriage bed. In places where such
remedies were not offered (or where congregations did not trust their clergy
enough to perform them) one of the most popular deterrents was to marry
without wearing any knots or buttons. If this was not possible, for example
where the style of clothing had to include knots, such as lacing for corsets,
then they would at least leave one shoe untied during the ceremony.

Other deterrents included the groom placing two marked coins in his shoes,
while the bride hid a ring her shoe. Either method must have been quite
uncomfortable and conjures up images of the newlyweds limping miserably
out of the church! However, the magical thinking behind the coins and ring
was sound, with the two coins representing the testicles, while the ring
symbolised with the womb or vagina. The purpose of hiding them was to
confuse the hexer so that their spell would miss its intended mark.

Other methods of avoiding a wedding hex involved checking for the ligatura
knots before the ceremony. These were not always tied in order to cause
impotence however. In parts of Montenegro, for example, two ‘bride
leaders’ had to first check to see whether any knots had been tied in the fringe
of the bride’s strukka (a long fringed shawl). In this area, such knots would
have been tied to ensure that the bride either miscarried her first child, or that
it would be born disabled (Frazer and Durham 1912:228). Either way, it was
still a very cruel hex and must have been greatly feared.

If preventative measures did not work, then the next best thing was to find a
way of reversing the hex. The most obvious method would be to get hold of
the cord and undo the knots. Realistically however, this would be virtually
impossible since the hexer was unlikely to leave it lying around where it
could be found.

If the knotted cord could not be recovered, then sometimes the victims paid
the person who had cast the hex to reverse it. Human nature being what it is,
I would not be surprised if some people made quite a good living out of
demanding money for reversing hexes, whether or not they had ever actually
cast a spell in the first place!

Just as knots were sometimes tied in rags (usually for the purposes of
healing) they could also be tied in clothing, especially belts, in order to hex.
This is a very old idea, where things belonging to a person are considered to
have retained their power. Items that had belonged to the dead were thought
to be particularly appropriate for this type of work.

Burchard, the tenth century Bishop of Worms, (we met him before on the
subject of tying rags in trees) wrote that priests should question their
parishioners to find out whether they had ‘...tied a dead man's belt in knots in
order to harm someone’ (McNeill 1933: paragraph 83). Since it is unlikely
such beliefs simply appeared out of thin air in Burchard’s lifetime, this
suggests he was trying to eradicate what might have been a very longstanding
practice.

Sometimes, despite the bride and groom’s best efforts, they still fell foul of a
determined hexer with a string full of knots who blighted their sexual bliss
and prevented conception. If the hex had been prompted by sexual jealousy
it was probably not even possible to pay off whoever cast the spell since if
they were determined enough, they could not be bought. In such cases, the
remedies, although deeply symbolic, have an air of desperation and
unintentional hilarity about them.

For example, one remedy suggested a man should remove his wife’s wedding
ring, tap a full barrel of wine and ensure the stream flowed through the ring.
This was fine providing one had access to a barrel of wine. For those who
didn’t, an alternative method in some areas was to urinate through the
wedding ring instead (Wayland 1968 :399). One can only hope he washed it
before she wore it again!

Placing knots on the bride and groom’s clothing did not always foretell
misery however. Different areas had different methods and motives in
performing knot magic. In Hungary for example, a woman wanting a baby
was often advised to tie a knot in her husband’s tunic for each child she
wanted (Benedekfalva and Knappe 1941:103).
At first sight this contradicts everything we’ve seen about ligatura, although
on closer examination we realise the difference lies in the fact that it was the
woman herself, and not a stranger or even a clergyman, who was tying the
knot. And it was her intention that decided what the knot should do, i.e. it
was her spell. Tying a knot in order to have one’s own child is quite different
from tying a knot intended to prevent others from having intercourse or
conceiving.

There are other examples of magical knots being used willingly, yet
symbolically. For example, the name Knut (Cnut, Canute, Knud) derives
from an old word for knot, and parents who felt their family was already
large enough would sometimes give the name to the child they hoped would
be their last. In this sense we see a name representing a physical knot tied in
order to prevent more conceptions.

Occasionally, a knotted hex was carried out not in order to prevent sex and
conception, but in order to punish an unfaithful partner. For example, in and
around Naples, witches traditionally used three different coloured knotted
cords: a black one to represented the head, a red one for the heart and a white
one to symbolise the genitals. Knots tied in the white cord for example
created pain in the genitals while the black cord caused pain in the head, and
the red cord caused pain in the heart. However the account fails to mention
how many knots were tied nor whether they were tied all at once or over a
period of time (Andrews and Frazer 1897:5-6).

Creative Thinking
One of the most important skills in magic is to learn to act and think
creatively. That means creating our own magic, our own spells. We should
not rely on any book – including this one – to tell us what to do down to the
last detail, in every situation. It’s a bit like cookery books; although they can
be a great help, a good cook never follows them slavishly. There are times
when we don’t have (or don’t like) some of the ingredients, and then we have
to know how to make substitutions. Magic is a lot like that. It creates its
own reality, as does living a magical life. Once we learn to be creative, we
open the doors to endless magical possibilities.
However in order to act creatively, we first must learn to think creatively,
since our actions need underpinning by thought - otherwise they run the risk
of collapsing the moment any pressure is placed on us. This is one reason I
always emphasise a ‘spiritual journey’ rather than teaching ‘witchcraft’ or
‘magic’ as a journey in its own right. Everything is part of a far greater
whole.

There is no need to be daunted by this. Thinking creatively is no more

difficult than any other type of thought. It’s just a bit different from what
most of us are used to, requiring us to look all around, and not just straight
ahead. With Knot Magic the flexibility is in-built, since there are so many
cords, ribbons, ropes, colours beads, knots and even patterns to choose from
each representing so many different magical intentions.

For example, the famous Celtic and Anglo-Saxon knot patterns (the sort we
see on ancient manuscripts) may be two dimensional, but magical thinking
can transform them into something else entirely. The way to make use of
them is to copy them out on paper then colour or shade them carefully while
concentrating on our spell intention. This can of course, require greater and
more prolonged focus than simply tying a couple of overhand knots in a piece
of string. Yet it suits some people extremely well, and is definitely worth a
try.

We shouldn’t be put off by thinking that we have to be particularly artistic,

either. Tracing the drawing and then transferring it onto paper works
perfectly well, providing that as we work, we keep our intention carefully
focussed. Then, when we’ve finished, we send the intention on its way, just
as we would with any other spell.

My own preferred method is to simply blow on the drawing, keeping my

mouth only just above the surface or the paper, so that my breath will skim
over it. That allows me to ‘push’ the spell gently out into the cosmos, so it
can do its work.

The biggest drawback with this particular method is that many Celtic knot
patterns are extremely complex and time-consuming to draw, even if we trace
them. Personally, if the spell intention is worth it then I don’t mind this.
However, if you don’t have the time or inclination, try creating a single knot
rather than a border, something like the one shown below:

Magic – with or without knots – can bring great joy and happiness, if it is
used wisely and well. But we must never become obsessed with it. Instead
we should allow it to seep into our lives, so that it becomes a part of us and
the way we engage with each other and with the world around us.
Because the greatest magic of all is found in the thread of life itself.

Happy Knotting!
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 Index

A...
Adaouste...45
Aestii...59, 60
Albertus Magnus...184
Amber...53, 58-60
Andersen, Hans Christian...141
Anglo-Saxon...8,38,125,176
Ankh...11
Antrea net...95
Aphrodite...52,60
Aratus of Soli...3
Argyll...58
Aricia...175
Assynt...160
Assyria...175
Affirmation...133

B...
Babylon...32,127
Baltic...60
Bandages...2,11,85,175-7
Bark...5, 32, 46, 78, 102, 104-5, 110-117,121, 135-6, 155-7
Barking solution...105,120,155-6
Bertilak...173
Birch...102, 104-6, 156
Black Death...65
Bloodstone...176
Bohemia...169
Boudicca...9
Bread dough...160
Brigid...105, 125
Bristol...3
Broom...78, 170-1
Burchard of Worms...175, 186

Byzantium...60

C...
Cambridgeshire... 176
Celtic button knot...19
Celtic knot patterns...33, 188-9
Cleopatra...60
Clove hitch knot...9
Clove-wort...176
Cobham, Elenor...86
Cornwall...85
Cow hitch knot...9, 90
Crochet...21, 44, 87-91, 120, 135
Crossroads...11, 12, 129
Cumulus clouds...161

D...
Demeter...60
Devon...177
Divine Feminine...59, 64, 67
Double stopper knot...18

E...
Eggers, Jens...3
Egypt...10, 11, 14, 60, 67, 70, 125
Elder wood...32
Electronic ignition...115
Eleusis...60
Embroidery...3, 21, 44, 61, 78, 85, 87, 88, 120, 135
Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus...4, 14, 30
Essex...49
Ethelred the Unready... 38
Euripides...65

F...
Fairy... 47, 52, 58, 59, 63, 64, 143, 149
Figure-of-Eight-Knot... 18-19, 47, 49, 53, 155
First mothers...104
Flemish knot...18
Four Bodily Humours...65
French knot...21, 44, 87
Freya... 105
Frigg...105
Fringes... 61, 62, 90, 185

G...
Gawayne...173-4
Gentle People, The... 47, 52
Germany... 167, 169
Ghost laying...19
Glas...19, 59
Granny knot...13-15, 175
Grief knot...14
Green Knight... 173-4
Green Man... 8

H...
Hair...2, 85-7, 89, 120, 146, 160, 165, 167-9, 175, 179
Half Sennit...16
Harming None...37, 38
Heart Finger...167
Hebrew...3, 64
Hercules’ Knot...14, 15
Hex... 5, 11, 72, 82, 85, 86, 128, 129, 160, 168, 178, 183-7
Hitler...39
Horus...10, 125
Horse...64, 146, 167, 168
Huckaback towel... 85
Hungary...131, 187

I
Ireland...47, 105, 167
Isis...10, 125
Israel... 126, 176

J...
Jack o’ Lantern...62

K...
Knitting... 21, 86-91, 84, 124, 135, 178
Knot of the Heavens... 3
Knut...187
Kore...60

L...
Lace... 5, 173-4
Lacnunga... 176
Lady of the Forest... 105
Lapp... 19
Lark’s Head knot... 9, 17, 90
Ligatura...2, 179, 183-5, 187
Little finger mesh knot...95

M...
Macramé... 15, 17, 21, 24, 87, 89, 91, 135, 155
Magical transference... 169, 175
Magnus, Albertus... 184
Maze... 36
Mermaid, The (Poem)... 160
Merseburger Charm... 167
Mesh knot from under...95
Mesh knot from over... 95
Mesopotamia...175
Mhor Bhan (wind seller)...160
Microcosm...126
Mjolnir...10
Montenegro...185
Mother-Die plants...65, 67

N...
Naples...187
Neolithic...45, 94
Nets...93, 94, 96-102, 104-6, 111
Nosebleed...49, 56, 176

O...
Oak...104-6, 156
Odysseus...53
Odin...105, 167
Old Testament...3, 6, 46, 64
Orkney...159
Osiris...10, 125
Outer Hebrides...58
Overhand knot...15, 17, 94, 95, 145, 188
Ovid...175

P...
Peace Pledge Union...68
Pentagram...126
Pentangle...173
Performative intention...75, 84, 145, 146
Periwinkles...53
Persians... 10, 127
Plaits...32, 86, 87, 160, 179
Plato...183
Pliny the Elder... 14, 61, 62, 124, 168
Poppies...68
Prosody...81
Puzzles... 36

Q...
Quartz...115

R...
Rags...2, 11, 32, 175-7, 186
Ribbon... 1, 2, 5, 32, 44, 45, 49, 51, 52, 54, 56, 85, 101, 188
Rope Walk... 97
Reef knot...14, 15, 95, 167
Rome... 60
Russia... 105, 129

S...
Samhain... 54
Savoy knot... 18
Sennit...15, 17
Shakespeare...54
Shoes... 4, 5, 103, 180, 185
similia similibus curantur... 4
Slip knot...19
Somerset...170, 172
Sprain...167
Square knot... 14-6
St. Bartholomew’s Hospital... 177
Stornaway... 66
Straw...171-3
Stromness...169
Submarine nets...93, 94
Sulphur...53
Sussex...19

T...
Tacitus...59, 60
Tandey, Henry... 38, 39
Tau cross... 10, 11, 125, 180
Thief knot...14, 15
Thor... 10, 104, 105
Thor’s Hammer... 10
Triform... 8, 11, 125
Triple hares... 8, 9
Triskele... 7, 10
Trivium... 11
Turk’s Head knot...14

U...
Umbilical Cord...2, 131

V...
Valknut...7
vena amoris...167
Venus...52
Virgil...123, 124, 178, 180
Vitruvian Man... 126

W...
Wales...47, 180
Walter Scott... 159
Wart...165, 166
Weather spells...27, 66, 91-2, 124, 129, 158-4
Wedding... 62, 65, 98, 183-6
Wedding knots...5
Wiccan Rede...37-8
Will o’ the Wisp...62
Willow...100
Witches’ Ladder...168, 170-4
Witch of Eye...86
Whooping cough... 49
Z...
Zagreb...56