Making a bubble

a post for kids

Beatrice considers herself a witch. If she were writing this post (she wrote the lesson part), she would say something like, “My name is Beatrice. I’m seven years old and I live in the woods. I am a witch.”

She signs her correspondence (like the letter below, to Vice President Kamala Harris) with a picture of herself on a broom.

She has multiple books about witchcraft. She has several wands and a number of witching dresses (mostly old dresses of mine, which she cinches up with belts and ribbons).

I’m not sure when Bea first got into witchcraft and casting spells, but her serious interest coincided with the pandemic, which interrupted her kindergarten year—ending school as she knew it, play dates, library and museum trips, trips of any kind, in fact.

That’s also when she started reading more about mythology, starting with D’Aulaire’s Book of Greek Myths (she credits this book with teaching her to read), then moving to the D’Aulaire’s Book of Norse Myths, then books on Chinese, North American, South American, and African myths and legends that she borrowed from her school library. She read about Circe, Hel, Freya, Oya, and Changing Woman. She associates magic and witchcraft with nature, the environment, and animals, especially birds (she is friends with, and talks to, a mourning dove she says follows us). We also watched (over and over!) a lot of Studio Ghibli movies, especially Kiki’s Delivery Service.

Magic became Bea’s way of making sense of a world she has little control over, of imagining and testing her own power. Sometimes it’s about casting spells, sometimes it’s about making potions in little jars, sometimes about running around the yard with an old broom. But just as often it’s about storytelling—she’ll sit on a rock in the yard and retell her favorite myths to Randy, the semi-feral cat who visits us every few days for cat food (he always listens politely).

I know that Bea’s interest in witchcraft sometimes tests her teachers (for a while, when they talked about goal-setting, Bea would only say “getting my broom to fly”) and probably unnerves her devout, Christian grandparents (who have also shared some wonderful lessons on the environment from their progressive, social justice-oriented congregation). But I think we’re all glad she has it as an outlet. I also think that imagining unseen powers—and what you would do with them—can be a way of building confidence, and just maybe imagining a better future.

How to get ready to do magic

By Beatrice

(adapted from The Little Witch’s Book of Spells by Ariel Kusby)

Before you start a spell, take some steps to make sure your magic will work. Don’t skip these steps! Preparing your mind and your body is important, maybe the most important part.

Find a quiet place. Stand straight and tall and close your eyes. Take three bold, deep breaths. Find your center—it might be your heart or your belly button or your spine. Deep breaths! Imagine there is a ball of white light entering your body.

Now imagine that you have roots growing out of your feet, into the earth. Imagine your roots traveling down, down, anchoring into the core of the earth. The core of the earth is filled with light too.

Connect with this light and bring it back to your body. Surround yourself with it—this is your bubble.

Now say, “I am centered, grounded, and safe within this bubble.”

What magic would you like to do in the world? Center yourself, then write or draw what you would like to bring into being. Leave your magical idea in the comments!

Here is an example from Bea:

I would like to make all the trash in the ocean rise out of the waters, into the air. It disintegrates, and then it disappears. I would put a protective bubble around the whole earth, so trash would instantly disintegrate.

Friday we’ll share some of our favorite books about myths, folktales, and witches. See you then!