Witchcraft and Therapy: An Unlikely Duo
It’s a Thursday night, it’s raining, and it’s a full moon. I’m standing in the breezeway outside my apartment trying to keep my cat from running outside into the rain with my foot while setting up mason jars in a discrete corner of the walkway so as to not alert the HOA I’ve left “trash” outside.
I’m freezing and relatively sure my neighbors think I’m insane but It’s one of the first good rains in Southern California and the overlap with a full moon is too good an opportunity to pass up.
I glance up at the faint glow where I assume the moon to be hoping it’s enough, collect my cat (now also soaked) and head back inside to arrange crystals on the windowsill.
As I worry about the optimal rock placement and whether the rain is going to accidentally wash away my jars, I briefly step back and note the absurdity of the moment.
Why am I—a psychology master’s student in my 30’s—doing witchcraft in the middle of the week instead of literally anything else?
Well, because witchcraft is therapeutic. And spellwork is self-work.
I don’t think it’s a huge stretch of the imagination to look at therapeutic practices and see the links to things we think of as witchy activities.
-How is goal setting in a journal or with a clinician any different than setting your intention and will?
-Chanting a spell might as well be your morning affirmation or mantra.
-One can even take it further and look at witchy/spiritual practices such as energy work or rituals as body awareness and somatic exercises.
All throughout history, humans continue to invent mindfulness practices through the lens of spirituality.
In the last year of grad school I’ve learned so much of the therapist’s work is trying to navigate the dark space of someone else’s psyche through finding the right combination of metaphors and words to make an intervention land.
Oftentimes the therapist is referring to attachment theory, or neuroscience or psychology but the way we discuss it with clients can easily take the form of symbolism, storytelling, and even cosmology (what is the Myers-Briggs if not corporate horoscopes?). The behavior can look remarkably similar.
For example, if someone stands in front of their mirror every morning and says:
“I am worthy of love.”
A therapist would recognize it as a form of self-talk, cognitive restructuring, or affirmation practice.
If someone writes those same words on a piece of paper, anoints it with rosemary oil, lights a candle, and recites them three times under a full moon—
What changed?
The mechanism might be different depending on your worldview but psychologically the person has:
focused their attention
engaged multiple senses
created emotional significance
repeated a desired belief
and embodied a hopeful future
And that’s all stuff we know can influence human experience.
Welcome to Our Witchy Woman-Owned Burbank Therapy Practice
For a little woman-owned therapy practice at the end of Burbank's Horror Row, we'd be hypocrites not to admit we've occasionally blurred the line ourselves. We even did a little spell to find our new office! (It technically worked; we just didn't get the exact suite we asked for. Apparently the universe is as literal-minded as a monkey's paw and about as interested in following directions.)
But that's also sort of the point.
Whether you believe in magic, psychology, neuroscience, spirits, manifestation, or some combination thereof, human beings seem to have an enduring need for ritual. We are creatures of symbols and stories.
-We light candles for birthdays and vigils.
-We throw graduation caps.
-We exchange rings.
-We invent ceremonies to mark beginnings, endings, losses, hopes, and transformations.
Given enough time, we'll turn just about anything important into a ritual. Think about how adrift you feel at times when you’re not beholden to a schedule to structure your days (I’m looking at you 5 days between Christmas and New Years.)
The Magic, Mindfulness, & Beauty of Ritual
For many people—particularly women and marginalized people—witchcraft offers something that traditional institutions have not: a sense that they are allowed to participate directly in their own healing and spiritual lives.
Therapists exist in much the same space.
We don't heal people. We help people heal themselves. We offer tools, perspectives, and guidance, but ultimately the work belongs to the client. The goal is not dependence on the therapist; it's the development of self-trust, self-knowledge, and the confidence to engage with one's own inner world.
And maybe that's why the line between therapy and witchcraft can sometimes feel surprisingly thin.
After all…
→ If putting rosemary in a jar gets someone to spend ten minutes thinking intentionally about what they want from their life, I'm not convinced that's fundamentally different from a worksheet.
→ If pulling tarot cards helps someone reflect on a problem from a new angle, I'm not sure that's so far removed from talking it through with the non-judgemental perspective a therapist offers.
→ If standing under a full moon helps someone feel connected to something larger than themselves, there are certainly worse coping skills.
Maybe the real magic isn't whether the spell works.
Maybe the magic is that, for a moment, it helps us believe we have the power to participate in our own healing.
And maybe this post is a sign you’ve found the best therapy practice for you.
—Clara
