Tonight, as the sun sets and darkness sets in, we do not quiet. Tonight is celebration and sacred fire. Tomorrow, as the sun rises and the light returns in full, we shall revel in the bright energy and know that even when times get dark, the light will always return.

Happy Summer Solstice, northern hemisphere! I hope, wherever you’re celebrating, you’re being safe and having fun.

I had a lesson in impromptu beauty and sacredness tonight. I had big plans for the Solstice, as I do every year, and very quickly I realized each and every one of them were going to fall through. It’s disappointing to not be at the beach at dawn this year, welcoming the sun, but it is what it is.

Instead, I looked into the face of my witchlet and felt the magick rise. Together, we gathered our tools – whatever we could scrounge from around the disorganized house – and went outside to the garden.

The marigold planter on the deck came down to join us. We lit candles and set out stones – one for each element – lit the sage (partly for sacred space, and partly to keep the bugs away), and created our solstice “bonfire” – a large green candle in my cast iron cauldron. Witchlet even helped by bringing her “cauldron of stones” – plastic trick-or-treat bucket filled with fake jewels.

Together, by the dying light of the setting sun, my three year old and I left offering for the fae to bless our garden, sent our gratitude up to the sun for his light and warmth, and made wishes for the waning half of the year by tossing pinches of dried calendula petals into the candle flame. Finally, we finished up with “cakes and ale” – lemon cake bites and wine for me, orange juice for her.

It was a messy little ritual. I stumbled over words; she interrupted every 10 seconds with “I know but-“, to give her own flair to our actions. When I told her to add a pinch of calendula and red jasper to the marigold planter, she dumped a fistful. She managed to not drown the jalapeno plant with orange juice when leaving her offering, though!

Even though it was unscripted and unstructured, it was a beautiful little ritual. My daughter, without hesitation, wished for happiness for the family – not just her, but for mom and dad as well. I told her to wish for anything. She could have wished for new toys, or a dress, or even a pony – but she wished for happiness. My heart surged.

Sabbat ritual doesn’t have to be fancy.

It doesn’t have to be elaborate. Its okay if it is; I’ve been known to make some epic magick in my day. But it can just as easily be hurried, spontaneous, and messy. As I raise a toddler to forge her own path and create her own practice, it often is hurried, spontaneous, and messy. But it’s meaningful and heartfelt and beautiful, which generates a magick unlike any other.

If you don’t have the time or financial ability to host a fabulous sabbat ritual, try these 5 tips:

• Scavenge what you have in the spice cabinet or growing in your yard, light a candle, make a wish, and toss the herbs into the flame.
• Collect stones from nature and build a little faery pyramid, or dedicate the structure to an important deity
• Pick some rose petals, or any fragrant, edible flower, (responsibly, of course), and steep in water to create an energetic “wine” to drink and leave as an offering
• Draw sigils or runes on a piece of paper for whatever you’re honoring or conjuring. Burn, bury, or submerge to give it over to the universe.
• Light a candle (you can get inexpensive votives and bags of tea lights at the dollar store), sit in a darkened room, and meditate or go into your inner temple. Hold your entire ritual in your mind.

May the light from midsummer grant you many blessings of creativity, passion, inspiration, and joy.

More pictures from ritual tonight, if anyone wants to die of cuteness.