Thunderstorm Magick
I recently had a request to speak about working with the element of water and the particular power of thunderstorms when it comes to solitary magical practice.
Last night we had a thunderstorm roll in around dusk, here in New Hampshire. The magic of the humid air, crackling with silver light and reverberating with each loud clap and echo of thunder across the valley, made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. It woke me up from a perennial exhaustion that has seemed to dog me this summer.
There is a brooding, heavy, hedonistic mystery that thunderstorms in the summertime always seem to craft with irreverent glee. With each pull and scream, with each tear and crack in the skyline, you find yourself worn thin, split open, cleaned out.
The harsh lines and wild release of each heartbreaking cacophony pound in your ears; a thunderstorm cannot be ignored. It won’t let you ignore its magick, or its message.
It’s uncanny, otherworldly.
It speaks to a raising and crescendo of energy. It can destroy and kill, or illuminate and set free. Some thunderstorms stay and visit without notice. Trapped in the eddies of atmosphere and New England mountain ranges, they hang low and linger. One shelters in order to witness the conversation between the loud and surly thunder and the reactive and pointed response of the lightning. At times hail will accompany the vicious, vertical slashes of light, or the large sheets of rain, seemingly unending as it pelts the grass mercilessly, pounding a hollow tattoo into the earth. One can get lost in storms that rage like this, particularly when the wind whips wildly around the eaves of one’s house, screaming at you to hide, to listen to the echo of the voices of those long gone. Reminding you of your humanness, of your fragility, of how temporary this life truly is.
Weather is both inspiring and humbling. Fear follows fascination. You wake up to what matters, you question what you have believed, and perhaps taken for granted.
This crossroads of emotions and realization is potent space for magick and for understanding our world. I encourage you to discover your connection to these key aspects of thunderstorm magick:
(Air)The powerful voice of thunder, as the clouds roll and converge threateningly above us.
(Water) The wild rain and its active, fluid emoting.
(Fire) the acrid crack and sharp snap of lightning as it sets fire to that which is dead, or atrophied, on trees, outbuildings, and deep into the earth herself.
(Earth) damp dirt and the scent of petrichor sharpen our senses, raising the alarm to take cover, find safety, to listen to the wisdom of our bodies.
The following components make thunderstorms fertile ground for witches:
Magick worked during a thunderstorm can raise or release energy for a desired outcome, or a necessary ending.
Gathered stormwater can be used to add to spell workings for expressing boundaries or hearing/uncovering truths.
Tree bark called from a tree struck by lightning during a storm can bring clarity to a situation, or help you burn away what keeps you from embracing or exploring your purpose, or the next action steps required for your growth on your human journey.
Dirt from the same blighted area can be used in offering to dark forms of deity, and to aid one and seeing beyond the veil, as well as for astral travel.
Mud gathered from puddles after a storm clears can help you connect to playfulness, joy, and can be used to help breakthrough times of stagnation, lack, fear, or anxiety.
And for me personally, as a witch who spent her childhood sitting on an old rattan chair in a big barn with the doors pulled open wide during summer thunderstorms, the conversation between the visual crack of lightning splitting the sky and the startling, cavernous, booming, responsive thunder moving swiftly through roiling dark gray clouds can be a fertile conduit for conversations with one’s gods or beloved dead.
Magickto welcome in passionate, romantic love can be worked during thunderstorms, by binding with sound and water.
The peace after a thunderstorm dissipates is like nothing else I have ever experienced. You can connect with this energy by dowsing or harvesting from the garden herbs/plants for clarity and awareness on the path and direction forward in your journey. Acts of divination can be very effective and accurate in the stillness of post storm quiet.
The scent of ozone and petrichor leave one feeling washed clean, clear, and alert.
There are awareness that are reached in this quiet that are profound and meant only for oneself, secrets to be written down and kept safe.
Thunderstorms are unique expressions of the Great Mother, a necessary release and clearing.
May your adventures with your own path of magick and thunderstorms create openings for empowerment, clarity, play, and connection.
