I've been performing rituals of one form or another, and setting up an altar, since I can remember. One of my earliest memories of a 'formal' altar and rite took place when I was eight years old. My bedroom had those shelves on the walls? you know the ones, long runners with brackets that slipped into notches and boards set across the brackets? One of those shelves was set up as more or less of a permanent altar, with candles, and incense, and a bowl that I put various 'offerings' into. This altar was the focus of the kind of natural, instinctive meditation and altered consciousness that only a child that young can find on her own, with very little guidance from without. The simple rite of lighting a candle, burning incense, and focusing on a goal or a 'wish' was one which I would continue on into adulthood, even before I began searching out more intensive ritual and magickal work.

As easy and as natural to me as such ritual is, however, I still have to confess to a great deal of fondness for more complex ritual, from time to time. I think this stems partly from my love of the dramatic, my mom's commitment to instilling 'family rituals' of all sorts into our homelife, my attraction to all things emotional (and we all know how much emotional energy can be raised in a good ritual!), and my desire to relate in some way to the heritage of the witches in my family before me. Because I was drawing more on these things than on 'established' or more standardized formats (such as presented by Garner, Buckland, Starhawk, et. al.) when I began to craft the tradition that is now being passed down to my children, "our" way of doing things is slightly different than those of most others. It is, however, quite astonishing just how similar they are? makes me think that we (meaning practicing pagans of all stripes) might just have something here?

Anyway, I present to you here a basic outline of how I operate in a 'formal' ritual setting. You will note that many aspects, including wording and phrasing, in some cases, are drawn from more recognizable sources. I've never been one to insist on doing something one way just because that's the way I've always done it? if I find something that works when I incorporate it into my tradition, then I incorporate it. I offer these here both to set them down in print, and to share some of what I've learned with others who, like me, not only believe in the admonishment that we not mock the rituals of others, but that we embrace and adopt all that the Universe sees fit to share with us in this lifetime.

My basic outline for a formal ritual is essentially familiar to any practicing pagan who has access to a library, bookstore, or the internet. Although I've been known to cast a circle while lying in bed and never moving from a fixed position, there are times when the act of going through the motions of the ritual lend extra 'oomph' to a magickal celebration or working. Here's my 'formula' for those times.

I.  Circle Casting

  A.  Cleansing of Space

  B.  Demarkation/Visualization

  C.  Consecration/Dedication

  D.  Elemental Invocation

  E.  God/Goddess Invocation

  F.  Energy Raising/Consciousness Shift

  G.  Celebration and/or Working

  H.  Grounding

II.  Dissolution of the Casting

Cleansing of Space

This is one of those things that I find relatively easy to accomplish most of the time, and very important to me. I am, perhaps, a little oversensitive to negative energy, pools of 'psychic goo' that can settle in any old place if you're not careful, and other energetic disturbances. These things are very real to me, and can adversely affect my concentration, focus, and work, if they are not swept away. Although there are numerous ways of cleansing a space of these unwelcome annoyances, it seems to me that they are all basically symbolic of the real power behind the banishing -- my Will. If I concentrate hard enough, I can send any of that 'crap,' if you'll pardon the term, packing -- and so can you, or anyone who focuses that intent. Negativity is a lot easier to jettison than loving energies, in my experience! But part of performing a formalized ritual is incorporating elements of symbolism, power, and even drama -- so we do things like burn sage, sweep the area with a besom, or use elemental cleansing models (sprinkling salt and water, waving incense through the area, lighting lamps).

The way I see it, the magickal circle serves three basic purposes: one, it provides a safe environment for the work; two, it creates a 'sacred' area, conducive to interaction with things higher and holier than our mundane lives (gods, goddesses, other spiritual beings, and our own Higher Self, for example); and three, it serves as a container in which the energies we wish to raise and direct can be focused, intensified, and augmented as needed before being released. Cleansing the area well ensures that once the circle is closed, there is nothing negative inside to benefit from that amplification effect.

To make a specific example here, say I'm using an elemental cleansing, today. I'll begin with getting a little grounded and 'clear,' myself. Generally this means doing some physical work, like cleaning the actual space in which I'll be working -- sweeping the porch, vacuuming the carpet, etc., setting up the altar, arranging things like quarter candles, if they are to be used, and generally getting the area arranged for the ritual. I follow this often with a nice shower in which I visualize psychic debris being washed down the drain right along with the dirt. Then, upon entering the space (and I usually have some appropriate music playing softly in the background,) I will light the lamp (fire), set some sage incense to burning (air), and walk around the perimeter of the circle sprinkling water into which I have dissolved some salt. I'm not a huge purist here unless the mood strikes me or I am suddenly able to collect some sea water or spring water -- tap water and kosher salt generally work for me, as I believe strongly, and I'll say this ad nauseum, that the real power of such a rite comes from your visualization and force of will. Whatever my 'tools,' however, these actions are symbolic of what I'm doing -- which is banishing those energies which could be limiting, distracting, or harmful to me and mine. I am marking my territory, if you will, and through the symbols of the elements, staking a claim on this space, that it be free of any and all things unwelcome. When I feel that this has been accomplished, I can move on to establishing the exact parameters of the circle.

Demarkation/Visualization

In a less formal setting, I cast my circles by the simple process of visualizing a sphere of light as big as I feel necessary -- and it is done. However, in a more structured ritual setting, I like to set out the perimeter with elemental 'corners,' and sometimes even with a physical perimeter represented by stones, or a 'cord' (usually, for me, this means a length of yarn, twine, or any other natural string-stuff that I have on hand!) Once my space is cleansed and I feel ready, I begin to visualize the circle, which is actually a sphere, extending down into the earth as well as into the air above the actual circle delineated on the ground. Usually I see it as a spinning web of light surrounding the area -- as if I'm calling up a 'bubble' around me. Many people use their athame, or ritual knife, for the actual circle casting; I prefer to use my wand. Before I had a wand, I used an outstretched hand, pointing with my index finger -- at any rate, the point is that as I begin to walk the perimeter of the circle and visualize the 'bubble' that will become the boundaries of the space, I also visualize energy coming through my hand, through the wand, pouring out to strengthen and manifest those boundaries. Sometimes it takes three walk-arounds, sometimes I lose track of time, walking in circles as the energy is built up. Generally speaking, I know when the circle is cast properly, and as simple as saying aloud at that point, "The Circle is cast; we are between the worlds?." It is done.

Now, I have to say a word about those times at which you have to leave a circle that you have cast. Unless you've managed to ditch the mundane world and are working alone in a forest or other secluded place where there is no possibility of interruption, there is going to come a time, inevitably, when you have to pause. A horrific crash in the kitchen; a shriek from a previously sleeping child who's just awakened to find a spider on her pillow -- we are all susceptible to such indignities! Many people feel that in these cases, one should 'cut' a doorway in the circle by tracing an opening in the air or other means. Perhaps it's a difference in visualization, but since my circle is really a big bubble, if you recall, when this kind of thing happens to me, I just morph out of the bubble, leaving it intact behind me, just as you can slip something very tiny into a bubble without popping it, if you're careful. For me, as long as the circle retains its form and integrity in my visualization, it's still intact in my reality until I come back and close it down. Granted, I'm going to have to take a few moments to get myself back into the consciousness of being between the worlds, but I have never had a circle collapse because I had to save the house from burning down or shut off the kids' stereo which suddenly was turned up to full blast. Similarly, I have never had a problem with a circle collapsing because a child wandered into one -- in fact, I think there is something about children that makes them able to drift between the worlds without any of the little rituals we use to get ourselves there. Same holds true with animals; in fact, several years ago I was fortunate enough to have a nice backyard with a huge privacy fence and a great view of the moon every night. I was able to perform my rituals in safety and seclusion, outside, skyclad if desired -- but this proved to be an irresistible magnet for every neighborhood cat as well as the occasional squirrel up past its bedtime. (I drew the line the time a raccoon tried to join me -- scared me senseless!) At any rate, these unscheduled entrances and exits in and out of my circles never caused me to notice any loss of continuity or power. Of course, many people are very strict about this, but the power in my circles, at least, is not dependent on a perfect, technically executed circle casting without interruptions.

Note: The kid-interruption issue quickly became pretty much a moot thing one I started inviting them into the circles with me. Now they pretty much either join me, or stay away and quiet and respectful. And they don't overheat the popcorn oil quite so often as they did when they were younger.