Scala Eressos the return

Good morning from beautiful Eressos!

I’m back—and so is the blog. My heart has been warmed by the number of people asking if I’d be writing again, so I’ll do my best to keep you updated on my travels. With any luck, there will be enough adventures, embarrassing mishaps, and moments of soul-searching to keep you entertained.

This year, I decided to come for a whole month. Since my last visit, life has thrown me more than a few physical and mental challenges. I know there’s healing I still need, and this magical corner of Greece feels like the perfect place to begin.

Of course, getting here was not without its dramas.

Saturday began with a train ride to Manchester Airport, where I gratefully took advantage of twilight check-in to unload my two very heavy cases. I’d booked into the lovely Radisson Blu hotel, conveniently attached to the terminal.

My German friend Anja had introduced me to Storm, a friend of hers who happened to be on the same flights in and out. We spotted each other at check-in, clicked immediately, and as she was staying at the same hotel, we shared a relaxed evening of dinner, beers, honest conversation, and plenty of laughter. Everything was off to a great start.

By 10pm, I was tucked up in the enormous Radisson bed, alarm set for 3am, smugly imagining a shower and coffee before strolling across to catch my 6:50am flight.

Imagine my horror when I opened my eyes to see the clock flashing 5:50am.

I launched myself out of bed, yanked on dungarees over my pyjama shorts, and legged it through the airport like Usain Bolt—bed hair, no bra, dog breath, and a look of sheer despair. I’m sure I startled more than a few early risers.

Mercifully, Jet2 staff were more laid back than I was. Security whisked me straight through, and when I arrived at the gate, I wasn’t even the last to board. Crisis averted, dignity (mostly) intact.

The flight itself was uneventful—until the landing. Just as I braced for the clunk of wheels on tarmac in Mytilene, the plane suddenly soared skyward again. The pilot calmly explained that the landing had been aborted due to instability. The cabin fell silent. For the next 25 minutes, I closed my eyes, whispered affirmations, and fought off visions of flaming crash landings. Thankfully, on the second attempt, we touched down safely. My Greek adventure—round two—had officially begun.

This year, Anja has arranged for me to stay in the most beautiful house in the old village, with views that take my breath away. She was waiting to greet me, arms full of warmth, A feast, and a fridge stocked with beer. I was over the moon to see her . I'm a little sad that my other lovely German friend Karin isn't joining us this year but know our paths will cross again before too long.

After some beers and a long catch-up, I collapsed gratefully into bed.

Back with my favourite German.

This morning was the first time in a long time when I haven’t woken up with a knot of unexplained anxiety in my stomach. I purposely didn’t close the shutters in my bedroom so I laid in bed watching the Greek sunrise through the window and feeling a lovely sense of contentment and peace.

Plans, Festivals & Witchcraft

The Sappho Women’s Festival begins next week. This year, I haven’t bought a wristband—the workshops I wanted, I did last year. Instead, I’ll be offering my own Witchcraft workshops in a beautiful space owned by a wonderful woman I met last summer. I’ve brought posters, flyers, and plenty of Lancashire magic. My lovely friend Gwen arrives next week, and together we’ll be weaving some witchery into Lesvos.

Last year, I journeyed with Persephone as my patron Goddess, learning much from her. This time, I left it to fate, drawing three cards from my Celtic Goddess oracle deck. The deities stepping forward to guide me are Iseult, Nimue, and Arianrhod.

Iseult

Iseult reminds me to heal my heart gently, with patience and tenderness, and to let nature guide me back into life.

Nimue

Nimue challenges me to commit to my own transformation, daring me to dream and act boldly.

Arianrhod

Arianrhod, the Silver Wheel, calls me to release what no longer serves me and step into renewal, weaving my own destiny under the wisdom of the stars.

It feels like a powerful trio—healing, transformation, and destiny. I’m looking forward to learning from them and walking this path of renewal.

Until Next Time

Thank you for reading and for being part of this journey with me. I may not blog every day—some days I plan to do as little as possible!—but I’ll write as often as I can.

Brightest blessings,

Bex ✨

Why I Left a Wiccan Coven and Chose the Path of My Celtic Ancestors

I began my journey on this path in a Wiccan Coven.For a time, Wicca gave me structure. It gave me ritual. It gave me language for the reverence I’ve always felt toward the moon, the seasons, and the sacred feminine. I’ll always honour that chapter. But in the end, I had to walk away — not from witchcraft, not from spirit — but from the rules and rigidity of a system that no longer felt like home.

Instead, I found myself returning to something older, wilder, and deeply rooted: the path of my Celtic ancestors.

Wicca: A Beautiful Beginning, But Not My Destination

I was drawn to Wicca for the same reasons many of us are. It offers a clear system, beautiful rituals, and a sense of community. I loved celebrating the Wheel of the Year with others, calling the quarters, crafting altars, and learning from seasoned witches. There was power in that and I'll always be grateful for all I learned.

But over time, I started to feel... boxed in.

There were rules. Hierarchies. Expectations. Degrees and titles. A sense that there was always someone above you with the authority to tell you whether you were doing it "right." Some covens are beautifully run with kindness and care — but mine, like many, wasn’t immune to power dynamics and quiet gatekeeping.

I started to question: Who gets to decide what is "proper" witchcraft?

Who benefits from these systems of hierarchy — and who is left out?

I Wanted Wild. I Wanted Real.

I didn’t come to witchcraft to swap one set of rules for another. I came to remember who I was, beneath the conditioning.

I wanted my magic to be messy, intuitive, unashamedly mine. I wanted to cry under stormy skies and leave offerings in the woods without worrying if I’d used the right chant or cast the circle correctly. I wanted to sit with the old gods of my blood and ask them what they remembered.

And so, althoigh it was a difficult decision, I left.

Coming Home to My Celtic Roots

My ancestors whispered through hedgerows and hearth-smoke. They weren’t working from printed grimoires or high ceremonial rites — they were lighting candles in windows, tying clooties on trees, whispering prayers to Brigid and the spirits of the land. They honoured sacred wells, sung charms over sick animals, and spoke to the dead.

In choosing the path of Celtic Witchcraft, I chose to walk with them.

This isn’t a reconstructed religion or a codified system. It’s a living, breathing practice — shaped by nature, folklore, personal gnosis, and the spirits who walk beside me. There are no degrees. No high priestesses. No “one true way.” Only the path, the land, and the heart.

Problems I Found in the Wiccan Structure

Leaving Wicca wasn’t about rebellion — it was about truth. But I do feel it’s important to name the parts that didn’t sit right with me, in case they don’t sit right with you, either.

Hierarchy and gatekeeping: Titles and initiations can become tools of control rather than growth. Spiritual authority isn’t earned through degrees — it’s lived.

A moral code too simple for real life: “An it harm none, do what ye will” sounds lovely, but it doesn’t leave space for nuance, justice, or boundaries. The world isn’t black and white. The Morrigan isn’t, and neither am I.

Over-ritualisation: I grew weary of rules about the “right” tools, the “right” words, the “right” timing. Magic isn’t something you need permission to access — it’s your birthright.

What I’ve Gained

Since stepping onto my ancestral path, I’ve felt more myself than I ever did inside a formal system.

I've built deep, personal relationships with Brigid, Cernunnos, Danu, and the spirits of place

Honoured the wheel of the year through living in rhythm with the land

Found strength in intuitive, spirit-led practice

Felt proud to call myself a Celtic witch — not a title, not a rank, but a truth

A Note for Fellow Seekers

If Wicca fills your cup, I honour you. If your coven is a safe and sacred circle, may it thrive. But if you’ve felt out of place in the structure… if you’ve been told you're “not doing it right”… if you long for something older, deeper, and less concerned with spiritual performance — know this:

You are not lost. You are remembering.

There is a path through the trees. There is a well with your name on it.

The ancestors are waiting. The land remembers you.

You belong.

Imbolc. A Time of New Beginnings

Hello again and welcome back to my blog.

It’s been a while, and I was on a sunny Greek Island last time I was here. Today I’m in rainy and cold Fleetwood my beloved home town.

I hadn't meant to wait for so long, but the newfound confidence in my writing ability that I gained in Lesvos vanished as soon as I returned home.

In Greece I had plenty to write about, new adventures, new friends, and a profound personal journey that going away on my own for the first time in over 30 years set in motion. Once home I suddenly developed writers block and felt I had very little of interest to share with anybody.

This of course is not the truth. I am blessed with a varied, colourful and Magickal life. I have a truly wonderful family and am incredibly lucky because I absolutely love what I do for a living. Despite knowing all this  and constantly working on my mental health with affirmations, meditations, shadow work etc there are still time when that inner voice insists on telling  me I have nothing to offer

However Imbolc is upon us and there is no better time for new beginnings , restarts, and setting intentions connected to our potential. What better time to start my blog again.

Imbolc is an ancient Celtic holiday celebrating the very first stirrings of new life–the first hint of spring. It is one of 8 Sabbats celebrated by many Pagans throughout the year.

Even though there may still be snow on the ground where you are, even if it’s freezing cold outside, we are beginning to feel the very earliest hints of spring rising in our spirits.

After the Dark months  which began at Samhain, traditionally a time of turning inward, of hibernation and rest, life is beginning to stir again.

Depending on where you are, you may be seeing the first spring flowers beginning to show signs of life.

Spiritually, this is a time of new life coming into manifestation. We may only be seeing the tiniest hints of life above the surface but things are really beginning to stir in the darkness.

Imbolc is one of my most favourite festivals, so full of hope and positivity. This year it feels particularly meaningful to me. The winter has felt long and hard. Again this year I found Yuletide a struggle and it reinforced one of the lessons I learnt on my many adventures last year,

‘You can’t run from grief ‘

2024 was, in many ways an amazing year. I visited Transylvania, Spain, and of course the wonderful island of Lesvos. I had a fantastic family holiday with all my children and grandchildren here in Lancashire, attended the beautiful Tribal Gathering again and reconnected with my activist/ anti-fracking tribe and even went to the Darts final at Butlins in Minehead where I discovered unexpectedly that I love the Darts. I saw several fantastic bands live and wonderful theatre shows, went to a Disco for adults with my old school pals  and  birthed my own drum. The absolute highlight of my year ( and possibly my life ) was getting to see Stevie Nicks live. Bucket list ticked, it was the most magical day from start to finish Stevie was spectacular and exceeded all my expectations.

On paper it looks like a most fantastic year and I do feel very blessed to have had all those experiences. What you can’t see on paper however is the sadness I have carried in my bones, the permanently heightened anxiety that seems to have settled into my psyche and the non stop negative chatter in my head trying to convince me that I’m pointless and of little value.

2024 was also a year of feeling lonely in a crowd, exhausted from fighting my inner demons and trying unsuccessfully to run from a grief that threatened to drown me.

I refuse to dwell on that or let it beat me so here’s the positives.

New years eve 2023 I spent alone on the phone to the mental health crisis team because the thought of facing another year felt too overwhelming. New years eve 2024 I spent alone by choice, had a very long bath full of essential oils and intentions, used my shamanic drum to drum out the negative old energy and welcome in new positive energy then cast my circle and did a gorgeous ritual to release what I didn’t want to carry into the new year and set my intentions for 2025. Perfect.

2025 began gently for me and my sole resolution was to be gentle with myself. So far so good I’m happy to say.

My New Years ritual was very personal and powerful and I just feel lighter as we embrace Imbolc season.

A Simple Imbolc Ritual for anybody to try

You will need

A bulb or seeds

Something to plant them in

Some potting compost or soil

Pen and paper

Tea light

Have a lovely bath or shower and set aside half an hour or so when you won’t be disturbed

Prepare and clean an area to work on.

If you like you can decorate it with images of Spring, Snowdrops, The Goddess Brigit, Fire, anything that resonates with you.

Light the Tealight and spend some time visualising what you would like to attract into your life in the coming season, imagine how you will feel when your intentions become reality and hold that feeling.

As Imbolc is connected with the element of Fire it’s a marvellous time to set intentions around  confidence, transformation , passion  and drive. This is your ritual however so your intentions can be anything you want.

Next write your intentions on a small piece of paper.

Remember when we set intentions we don't use words like 'wish' or 'hope' this keeps our desires in the future and always slightly out of reach. We always use present tense and refer to our desires as if they are already happening ;

For instance if more confidence is your desire, you wouldn't say "I wish I was more confident" replace that with " I am growing more confident every day" or " I am confident even in unfamiliar situations"

Fold the paper making sure you are folding towards yourself rather than away from yourself, and pop it in the bottom of the plant pot.

Add a little of the compost, then add the bulb or seeds and more compost to cover.

you can decorate the pot with paints or gems if you like just to make it more special but it's quite ok if you don't.

At this point you may thank the Goddess/ Universe/ God / Divine Cosmic Power , however this resonates with you , in advance for blessing your intentions, and for all the blessings you already have in your life.

Now all you need to do is care for and nuture your bulb/seeds. Each time you water it speak your intentions to it.

As it grows your intentions will manifest.

MOVING FORWARD.

So what will 2025 have in store?

Lots of exciting things happening here at The Witches Hat.

We have our gorgeous new Healing Hub and an exciting new programme of workshops and events.

We are looking forward to our retreat in June and lots of other Magickal events that will be revealed in due time.

On a personal level 2025 is all about self care and being gentle with myself. About cherishing time with family and friends and no longer wasting energy on people who make no effort with me.

At the end of May I am off to Glastonbury to do my celebrants training at the Sacred Celebrants Academy with the marvellous Dawn Kinsella, Priestess of Avalon.

Also I'm off back to Greece. In September I'll be spending a whole month in Lesvos and facilitating some workshops and rituals during the Womens Festival.

I intend to do this Blog at least once a month and sincerely hope you will join me..

Some folk have commented about how open my blog from Greece was, and some have questioned whether being open open about my mental health is a bad reflection on Witchcraft?

I see where they are coming from but one of the most important thing about being a Witch to me is being authentic, we own who we are and learn to love and honour even the parts of us that life has taught us are unlovable.

It’s incredibly empowering to accept yourself completely.

Does Witchcraft cure mental health conditions and disorders ? No.

Does it help you to live a fuller, more joyful Life whilst living with a mental health condition? Absolutely.

The practice of Witchcraft is by nature good for your mental health. For me personally some of the benefits of my practice are;

Do you get the picture ?

I could go on and on, being a Witch makes me feel powerful and authentic and as we always say to our Witchlings ;

“ A little Witchcraft makes everyone braver, kinder and happier”

Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this. I look forward to sharing and no doubt over sharing with you in the coming months.

Sending you the Brightest of Blessings,

Bex xxx