Defining Rites of Passage
Rites of passage occur in every culture. That sounds like a bold statement, but it’s absolutely true. Look through sacred texts or anthropological studies of long-gone civilizations and you’ll find rites of passage. Dig into the myths of classical Greece or the tales of the First Nations peoples of North America; trek to India and see the temples in Mumbai or sit in a stone circle in Wiltshire. In every one of these places and a million more, you will find accounts of rites of passage happening, right up through the present day. There’s one simple reason for this: humans. As long as there have been human beings, there have been rites of passage.
Perhaps we should start with defining just what a rite of passage is. French anthropologist Arnold van Gennep is credited with coining the phrase in his work The Rites of Passage. Van Gennep explores humankind’s universal practice of acknowledging and celebrating the transitions a person undergoes throughout their lifetime. His work further demonstrates how ceremonies—and initiations in particular—alter the status or standing of a person going through the transition and their society’s reaction to the change. Most importantly, he advances the idea that rites of passage rituals ultimately ease the mind, and perhaps the very soul, of the individual going through the transition. It’s as if the community at large is saying, “We know the journey you’re on is new, scary, strange, confusing, or painful, but we went through this too. We made it to the other side. We’ll wait for you there and celebrate you once you arrive. You’ve got this, even if you don’t believe that right now.”
Specifically, then, a rite of passage is the process of transitioning from one state of being to another. At the beginning of the rite, you are one thing, one type of person, and after the rite you are changed, reconfigured. It’s not just a personal transformation, though; there’s a societal and cultural component to this change as well. Not only have you journeyed through the rite to reach a changed status, the community you belong to now holds you in an updated regard. There really is a difference between the “old” you and the “new” you. The community says you are now allowed to call yourself by this name and they honor that. The community says, as a member who has undergone such-and-such a rite of passage, you have the authority, vested in you by the community, to participate in community at this particular level.
The reverse is also true, but it’s not spoken about in quite the same way. Once you’ve gone through a specific rite of passage and are no longer what you were before, the behaviors of that former status are no longer appropriate for you. To quote the biblical phrase, “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” 3
Curiously enough, rites of passage occur whether they are acknowledged or not. They are the product of human existence, and many of them are tied specifically to the biology of being human. Puberty is a great example of this. For most people, puberty happens; bodies undergo significant transformations in a pretty rapid fashion, and before you know it, you’ve moved from childhood into adolescence, at least on a biological level. The physical signs are usually easy to spot. Other biological rites of passage happen too, each with their own markers. Menstruation and the cessation of menstruation, a first shave, or a first orgasm. The good news—or bad news, depending on how you view this—is that everyone you know is going through, or will go through, most of these changes right along with you.
As biological changes occur, your place shifts within the context of the societies you participate in. Often, with age comes more responsibility. As you get older, there are assumptions projected onto you from others. Some of these projections are starting to fall out of fashion, thank goodness! But think about how many young couples are continually asked the questions “When are you going to get married?” or “When are you going to start having babies?” These are projections of our society’s expectations, based on biology and age.
Two Biological Rites of Passage Everyone Goes Through
All humans go through, at a minimum, two shared rites of passage. These two rites of passage will happen for every single human being: we all are born, and we all die.
Everyone was born. You could say the status change was pretty obvious with that one. Everyone has gone from a state of nonbeing to a state of being. At birth or shortly thereafter, you were likely named and assigned a gender. Each of those actions impacted how you were—and are—viewed in your community. At the other end of the spectrum, of course, is death. That’s the other rite of passage everyone goes through. One day you will die, and you’ll transition again from a state of being to a state of nonbeing. At the moment of your death, you may still occupy a place in the community, but your title will change again. You become an ancestor, a memory, one of the beloved dead.
It’s often said that one must go through these two rites of passage alone, but do you really? The obvious answer is “yes” because it is your body, consciousness, and soul that comes in and out of the world. But, viewed another way, other people are nearly always involved. Being born means there was another human being that went through the processes of childbirth. The progression from insemination to delivery is without a doubt a rite of passage. For some people, becoming pregnant and giving birth becomes a rite of passage into a way of life known as motherhood. However, for others, becoming pregnant and giving birth does not come with the title of mother or even a desire to hold that title, and yet, they went through the rite of passage. Additionally, one may earn the title of mother without ever being pregnant or giving birth. Giving birth is one experience, whereas becoming a mother is something completely different. And yet, they are both rites of passage with a similar energy.
It’s the same with dying. In most cases, there are medical professionals, religious folk, friends, lovers, and children that tend to you during the dying process. Even in unforeseen, tragic accidents there are emergency personnel or first responders there with you, whether you’re aware of it or not. Your death has an impact on someone. If you’re fortunate, there will be a memorial service, funeral, or celebration of your life held by those you leave behind. In that way, you’re still present, at least for a little longer.
Rites of Passage Based on Chronology
There are other rites of passage that are loosely tied to biology, but not quite as universally as birth and death. In certain cases, transitions occur with chronology. For example, in Judaism a community member becomes a bar or bat mitzvah (literally, “one of the commandments”) upon their twelfth or thirteenth birthday. Their status has changed within the community, simply by reaching the designated age. It’s the same with quinceañeras, sweet sixteen parties, and cotillion; a person is viewed differently because they’ve attained a certain age and the attainment of that age is celebrated.
Turning eighteen often confers the privileges and responsibilities of adulthood. In many societies an eighteen-year-old can enter into a legal contract, vote, get a tattoo, join the military, or get married all without needing the consent of parents or guardians. Reaching the legal drinking age or attaining senior citizen status are both examples of rites of passage based solely upon one’s age.
Other transitions are tied to one’s time on the planet, but without the necessity of a strict age attached to them. For instance, it’s fairly common in Paganism for a person to take on the mantle of “crone.” Becoming a crone can be tied to one’s physical age, but more often it’s aligned with the perceived attainment of wisdom, the shift of menstruation into menopause, or a sense of elderhood in a tradition. There isn’t a specific line in the sand that designates crone from non-crone. A crone is likely to be an elder woman, but beyond that, the specifics are often left up to the individual, or the community, to determine when someone has stepped into the role of crone.
The Liminality of Rites
During every rite of passage, there are moments of liminal space. Liminal spaces are the squishy boundary areas where two things meet and are not wholly one thing or the other thing. Think of it like this: What is the moment of pause between the inhale and exhale? It’s a part of the breathing process for sure, but it’s neither inhaling nor exhaling, neither breathing nor not breathing. It’s something else in between. That’s what a liminal moment is.
Liminal moments happen along the way during rites of passage and they are often the most uncomfortable parts of the process. It is during the liminal time that you know something is shifting, but you may not know what. For example, during the rite of passage of giving birth, the liminal space happens right before you start to push. You are in labor, but you are not yet giving birth. You’re moving from being pregnant to being not pregnant; there’s just this little matter of childbirth to work though. It could be painful, it could be scary, it could be a blessing, a moment of connection. It’s often undefinable. You are likely to run into liminal moments at different points all along the way.
Stages of a Rite of Passage
We’ve defined rites of passage as a process of transitioning from one state of being to another, which includes a change of community status, but rites of passage are really a little trickier than that to define because they aren’t static moments, but rather a series of moments. It’s important to define three additional words that often go hand in hand with rites of passage: transition, ritual, and transformation.
Transition, by its very meaning, conveys an idea of movement—going from one place or state of being to another, so to speak. Transitions are the moment-by-moment steps you take on the journey of a rite of passage. The ritual is the moment you formally acknowledge the rite of passage. You can acknowledge the beginning, the middle, or the end of the rite of passage. It’s not unheard of to ritualize the beginning and the end of a rite of passage. Likewise, transformation could be described as arriving at some destination, physically, societally, or spiritually, after experiencing a rite of passage.
Here’s a really simple way of putting it. The transition is what happens to you along the way. It’s your transition. How are you being impacted, changed, and reshaped by making this journey happen? The ritual commences when the steps of the journey have been completed. It’s when you say, “I’ve made it to the threshold, and I’m going to acknowledge the moment I step through the door.” The next step, the transformation, could happen immediately with a lightning flash, but it most likely comes over time. It’s the recognition that you completed your quest or made it through a difficult situation and are somehow changed for it. The transformation might look like a newfound inner peace, maturity, finding a place for grief, or looking at the world and your place in it from a very different position.
Transition, transformation, liminal, ritual, and rite of passage—the words don’t mean the same thing. They aren’t quite interchangeable, but they all coalesce around you. You’re the common denominator on the profound odyssey that is your rite of passage.
Here’s a little secret about rites of passage: your entire life is one rite of passage after another. Folks often ask when a rite of passage begins and when it ends, and the answer is that everyone is in a constant rite of passage. What differentiates the beginning or end of any period of change or growth is ritual. The rituals you create give you context, a framework, and a language to communicate that a new phase of your life is beginning.
While any particular ritual holds the potential to be life changing, mind-blowing, ecstatic, or terrifying, the rituals themselves are only markers of the shifts that are already taking place. It’s not important what the structure of the ritual might be as long as it’s meaningful to the folks going through the rite of passage. What you’re really doing is designating a moment in time to recognize and honor a part of the transition. The importance of the ritual isn’t the potential drama; it’s not about the dresses or rings, songs, or sacrifices—although that is fun. What’s vital is that the ritual honoring the rite of passage signifies to yourself and to your community that there’s been a shift.
The weird thing is that the shift or change most folks ascribe to a moment in ritual doesn’t actually take place in the ritual itself. It’s either happened already, or it’s still yet to happen. What has shifted, in most cases, is our relationship to the moment. For example, if you attend a funeral for a loved one, the ritual is the formal, ceremonial end of that person’s life, but the death has already happened and the grief for the survivors is just beginning. What you’re doing is giving yourself permission to cry, wail, and say goodbye, and to announce that you’re now in the terrible club called “I lost someone I love dearly and am now commencing on a journey of putting myself back together again, and I have no idea how to do that.” At some point, perhaps many years later, that same person may mark a different moment, when the rite of passage known as “getting through the grief and being at peace with the fact that there will always be some level of grief left to deal with, but it’s time to move on” will come upon them. Perhaps that ritual will involve putting love letters into storage, moving away from a family home, or falling in love with another person.
It’s the same with magickal initiations. The ritual confers upon a person a new degree, membership of an inner circle, or whatever the rite is designed for. What’s generally true is that attaining the rank of high priestess doesn’t make someone automatically a great high priestess. The ritual truly is acknowledging that the individual has the right to go on a journey of learning to live up to the title of high priestess and the expectations attached to that title.
If the ritual isn’t really the rite of passage, it’s just a marker of a part of the transition, then how do you know how to identify rites of passage and when they start or end? It’s here that we begin to look at how rites of passage manifest. We’ve identified several distinct stages that occur with many transitions. In virtually every case, we’ve determined that these stages are present, whether or not the person or persons going through the rite are consciously aware of the stages.
Each stage presents its own unique opportunity for self-reflection and magick. Every distinct step leads one closer to the next phase of the rite, and they build on one another. Put another way, to get to the third stage, one must transit through stages one and two first—there’s no skipping ahead.
Stage One: The Catalyst
Every rite of passage begins with a catalyst. If you’re really lucky, that catalyst comes in the form of a calling with an abundantly clear message: I need to get divorced, I want to become a parent, it’s time for me to get a new job, and so on. The calling can also present itself as a persistent level of discomfort, which can be akin to the feeling of being uncomfortable in one’s skin, being dissatisfied with your current situation, or recognizing that there is some ineffable thing begging for change. It’s like having a word on the tip of your tongue; you know the word, but you can’t quite get it out of your mouth.
In some situations, the catalyst comes as a demand. The death of a loved one, being terminated from a job, or having a spouse walk out on you are all types of catalysts that come without any warning. They demand for you to take action and forever change the trajectory of your life. They are not sought out; they just happen.
In mythological stories, the calling is often the part of the tale where the soon-to-be hero feels constrained by their current life and looks to the future, faraway lands, or adventure to change their circumstances. For example, in the Sumerian poem “The Descent of Inanna,” the goddess Inanna becomes a queen, a wife, and ruler of the heavens. For all intents and purposes, Inanna accomplished everything a person could ever hope to; yet, we are told that one day Inanna opened her ear to the great below. What followed was a calling to descend into the Underworld. Once Inanna had passed through the gates from her heavenly realm to the unknown lands of her sister, Inanna’s rite of passage began in earnest. Through the harrowing ordeal that followed, and the decisions she faced once she returned, Inanna learned the full meaning of the life-death-rebirth cycle.4
Not all rites of passage are grand adventures to explore the Underworld, but the calling is the same. Think about your own life for a minute. Perhaps there came a time when you moved out of a parent or guardian’s home. Before moving out, you may have hoarded housewares or dreamed of your college dorm room. There was anticipation, maybe even anxiety, because you understood that the day was coming when you’d move away from everything familiar into a new life, filled with uncertainty.
This is the catalyst in the form of a calling.
The demand, on the other hand, is not a thing you hear, like Inanna turning her ear to the great below. Rather, it is more immediate, and perhaps unwelcomed.
As a mythological example, in the Eastern European story of Vasilisa the Brave or Vasilisa the Beautiful, the young girl Vasilisa was thrust out of her home by her stepmother and left to face the dangers of the woods. As a ruse to get rid of the child, the stepmother had extinguished all of the house’s fires so that the house was dark and cold. The stepmother then sent Vasilisa into the wild to retrieve fire from the Witch that lived in the woods. The demand was perilous, and Vasilisa had no clear choice to avoid this task that was set before her.5
The catalyst in the form of a demand is likely not something you would choose. It may not be something you have time to prepare for or plan. For some rites of passage, the demand is foisted upon you from outside forces, whether you like it or not. In modern life this can look like the unexpected loss of a loved one, the sudden ending of a relationship, or other dramatic changes in circumstance. These are all powerful, uncomfortable, and unavoidable demands to a rite of passage.
For many, the process of moving out of their childhood home isn’t a sweet story of packing up for college, but rather, being thrust into the wild without any understanding of what to do or where to go, much like Vasilisa.
It’s important to note that the catalyst isn’t always a tender moment marking a life transition. Catalysts can be harsh, cruel, horrible shifts of circumstance. If you experience a calling or demand, ultimately you are experiencing the catalyst.
If you are lucky, part of the catalyst is a process of listening and then exploring. This is where you get to ask the questions about the rite of passage. Is this right for me? Is this the right time to start out on this journey? What discernment can I practice to determine which rite of passage I should be embarking on? How have others done this? What do I need to know about the process? Fact-finding and research are important steps of the catalyst.
It’s imperative to note here that when the catalyst comes in the form of a demand, it won’t always leave space for the questioning process. However, when the catalyst comes as the calling, there is space for questioning and research, like a spiritual initiation, getting married, or picking up and moving to another country because you are just compelled to do it.
The next two rituals are offered as ways to consciously connect with the process of the catalyst. If you are starting to feel there is an impending shift of circumstance in front of you and you are uncertain on what it is or what you should do, try the Becoming the Fool ritual to offer guidance. If you find yourself thrust into an unexpected rite of passage, uncertain how to move forward, try the Embracing the Tower ritual as a way to connect to your allies.
Becoming the Fool: A Calling Ritual
In a traditional tarot deck, the first tarot card in the major arcana is called the Fool. The imagery often shows a young person with a rucksack on their back, walking along a path with their head in the clouds, and not looking where they are stepping. Often there is an ally, typically a dog, attempting to warn the young person to look where they are going because the cliff’s edge is nearby.
This card is often read as a warning. It says, “Pay attention to the wisdom of allies.” But the card also tells you the journey is about to begin. Now is the time to leap, and to trust that there’s a net somewhere on the way down that is going to catch you. Now is the time to take a leap of faith, start on the journey, and trust, knowing your allies are looking out for you.
This is also the energy of the calling.
To prepare for this ritual, find an image of the Fool tarot card that you really love and set it in the center of your ritual space. You will need to be alone and undisturbed for at least an hour for this ritual. There is a trance as part of this ritual; record it ahead of time and play it back at the appropriate time. You will also need a flat surface where you can create your altar, building around the tarot card. There is no specific time of day or night to perform this ritual. Perhaps look through the correspondences list for suggestions. Choose a time that feels the most auspicious to you.
Supplies: Your favorite Fool tarot card, four seven-inch candles, a comfortable place to sit or lie down, a journal, and a pen.
Set Up: Before setting up your ritual space, take a cleansing bath or shower. Use the time you are bathing to release anything from your spirit body that doesn’t serve this work. Let it flow off your body and down the drain. Use a salt scrub to lightly exfoliate your skin and slough off anything from your physical body.
Once you’ve cleansed yourself, place the Fool card in the center of your altar with the four candles around it: one each to the left and right of the card, one above, and one below.
Ground yourself using one of the techniques listed in the introduction or in your favorite way.
Ritual: Pick up the candle that is above the tarot card, light the candle, and say: “I call upon my guides and guardians from the northern realms. I face the unknown. Please bring your strength and help me find solid footing on my path.”
Carefully set the lit candle down and pick up the next candle, moving in a clockwise direction. Light the candle and say: “I call upon my guides and guardians from the eastern realms. I face the unknown. Please bring your clarity and help me hear the best direction to move.”
Set down that candle and pick up the candle below the tarot card. Light the candle and say: “I call upon my guides and guardians from the southern realms. I face the unknown. Please bring your passion and help me feel what my heart most longs for.”
Set down that candle and pick up the final candle. While lighting it, say: “I call upon my guides and guardians from the western realms. I face the unknown. Please bring your wisdom and help me feel the right steps to take.”
Take a moment to call upon any specific guides, deities, or ancestors you may want to help you in this working. Speak from the heart. When you are done and feel ready, sit or lie down.
Trance: Take several slow deep breaths, allowing yourself to come fully into your body. Imagine a warm white light enveloping your toes. Let this light pulse and glow; everything it touches fully relaxes.
As you continue to breathe, the light moves upward, surrounding your feet and ankles. The light travels up to your shins and calves, warm and light. Your muscles are relaxed as the light touches them. Your breath continues and the light continues flowing upward, covering your thighs and hips. The light surrounds your sex and lower back, leaving you relaxed and warm.
The light continues to flow upward, filling your belly and flowing up your spine, warming and relaxing every bit of you it touches. Continue to breathe, allowing this enveloping light to flow upward, warming your chest and your shoulders, flowing down your arms, into your hands, and out of each fingertip, leaving your muscles warm and relaxed.
Breathe as the light flows over and around your neck and the back of your skull, leaving every muscle relaxed and warm. The light swirls around your jawline and chin. The light flows around your cheeks and your temples. It glows and warms the bridge of your nose and your forehead, finally closing up at the top of your head.
Your whole body is encased in a warm glowing light, leaving you fully relaxed. From this state, open your Witch’s eye. That inner eye that can see without sight. Open your Witch’s eye and see that you are standing at the center of a crossroads.
There are many paths, many options that flow out all around you. From this place in the center, you can see all the possibilities, all the options, all the choices. Take a moment and look closely at these roads. What do they represent? What are the options facing you right now?
As you feel ready to explore each path before you, notice some of the roads begin to fade away. You have thousands of choices, but there are only a few that are important for you to focus on right now. Begin finding the most important paths you might want to step on. Name these paths and watch how as you name them, they become clearer, more distinct, more revealing.
Perhaps there are now just a few roads left to explore. Choose one. Step forward, but don’t bring your foot down on the path just yet. Let it hover there. Does this road truly call to you? Does the path light up? Do you feel compelled to strike out on this path and follow it wherever it leads? Is this road uncomfortable? Scary? Does it still call to you anyway?
If you feel compelled, take a few steps down the path. How does it feel now? Repeat this process, and when you’ve explored all the roads that pique your curiosity, note which pathway has the strongest pull.
Remember the road with the strongest pull. Call out its name. Now step back into the center of the crossroads. Breathe deeply, knowing you can return here at any time for further exploration.
Close your Witch’s eye and step back into your body. Notice the seat on the sofa below you, the hard back of the chair you’re sitting in, or the ground you’re lying on. Take a moment to feel the flow of air in and out of your body. Wiggle your toes and move your fingers. Slowly, open your eyes and look around your ritual space. Tap the edges of your body and say your name out loud three times.
Take a few moments and journal about each path you walked down. Take special note of anything interesting, odd, challenging, or terrifying.
When you feel ready, step up to the altar. Pick up the last candle you lit, blow it out, and say: “Thank you to my guides and guardians from the western realms. I have explored the unknown. Thank you for your wisdom.”
Set down that candle, pick up the candle at the bottom of the tarot card, blow it out, and say: “Thank you to my guides and guardians from the southern realms. I have explored the unknown. Thank you for your passion.”
Set down that candle, pick up the next candle, moving in a widdershins direction, blow it out, and say: “Thank you to my guides and guardians from the eastern realms. I have explored the unknown. Thank you for your clarity.”
Set down that candle, pick up the last candle, blow it out, and say: “Thank you to my guides and guardians from the northern realms. I have explored the unknown. Thank you for your strength.”
The work is done. Blessed be.
Well, the work is almost done. You did the hard work of setting aside time and recording a trance (or having another person guide you through it). You lit candles and imagined a crossroads with multiple paths to follow. Then you dared to step onto a path or two, testing the roads, and seeing which one called you.
The next part is tricky. The work of the “active” ritual is completed, but now it’s time for you to sit with the post-ritual results. This might take a day or a week. You may have to repeat the ritual a few more times. You might find your answers coming to you in dreams or in an email that suddenly arrives from a person you haven’t thought about in a while, but there will be a clear answer relating to the paths you stepped out on. This is the most important part of the ritual, really, because it’s the calling making itself obvious to you.
Embracing the Tower: A Demand Ritual
In a traditional tarot deck, the sixteenth tarot card in the major arcana is called the Tower. The imagery often shows a towerlike structure being struck by lightning. Part of the building is in flames and there are people falling out of the windows to the ground below. The tower is often surrounded by a roiling sea, representing the uncertain emotions that major, unexpected changes bring to your life.
This card is not a warning; it is an announcement that the trouble is already here. The journey has already started, and it isn’t likely to be what you expected. It might feel like you’ve just had the rug pulled out from under you. Your whole life is upside down. The change could be traumatic or joyful, but it is intense and immediate.
This is also the energy of the demand.
To prepare for this ritual, find an image of the Tower tarot card that you really love and set it in the center of your ritual space. You will need to be alone and undisturbed for at least an hour for this ritual. You will need a flat surface where you can create your altar, building around the tarot card. There is no specific time of day or night to perform this ritual. The event has already happened, so perform this ritual when you can.
Supplies: Your favorite Tower tarot card, a glass-encased white candle, a journal, and a pen.
Set Up: If possible, before setting up your ritual space, take a cleansing bath or shower. Use the time you are bathing to release anything from your spirit body that doesn’t serve this work. Let it flow off your body and down the drain. Use a salt scrub to lightly exfoliate your skin and slough off anything from your physical body. If you are experiencing grief with this demand, you may want to incorporate the Grief Ritual in chapter 6.
Once you’ve cleansed yourself, place the Tower card in the center of your altar with the glass-encased candle next to it. Ground yourself by using one of the techniques listed in the introduction or in your favorite way.
Ritual: Light the candle and say: “I call upon my guides and guardians. I call upon my ancestors who have faced similar challenging times. I call upon those who can best guide and support me. I face the unknown. Please bring your strength, clarity, and wisdom to help me find solid footing on my path.”
Take a moment to breathe. Let your inhales and exhales happen as they want. Focus your eyes on the candle flame. Feel the support of your guides and allies surrounding you. As you focus on the flame, visualize it getting bigger and surrounding you with its glow. Feel yourself held by the warmth of your allies. Let it lift you up and give you comfort.
As this happens, allow yourself to take note of any messages, images, or feelings coming through. Is there any wisdom or information being offered to you right now? Take out your journal and write down anything important or vital.
When you feel ready, set down your journal and move on with your day. Leave the candle and tarot card out for as long as you can. Leave the candle burning only if it is safe to do so.
Light the candle anytime you need guidance or support from your allies.
The next part is tricky. You are in the rite of passage and the next few steps may be challenging. You may not even know the next steps. Now is the time to reach out to both your human and spirit allies to get you through. Connect with those who have been through this rite themselves as potential helpers to give you tips and pointers on how to create a map for the best way forward. Pay attention to your dreams or other synchronicities happening during these times.
After the Calling: The Preparation
In the best-case scenario, if the catalyst comes as a calling, when you can turn your ear to the great below, there is some time to prepare. In most traditional cultures, there’s a prescribed course of study, a level of work that must be achieved, and certain steps that must be completed for a rite of passage to begin.
Returning to the story of Inanna for a moment, once Inanna makes the decision to go into the Underworld she prepares for her return by counseling her dear friend on how to petition the other gods for help, should Inanna need it. Inanna also prepares herself by wearing the full regalia afforded to her as queen. She prepares by wearing the status symbols of jewelry and clothing.
This is also true for you when you step into a rite of passage. You can prepare. You can ready your mind and body. You can enlist the aid of your allies, friends, and spiritual guardians to help you along the way. It might feel like you go through these things alone, and in certain ways you do, but you often have more support than you think. Imagine the Fool card again from the tarot. The Fool is the one embarking on the journey; in the Fool’s case, literally walking off the cliff into the unknown. It’s the Fool’s decision to walk off the cliff, to turn around at the last moment, or to grow wings on the way down. Right alongside the Fool, though, is the little dog. The Fool’s ally. If you look at the card more closely, you can see the Fool has a little pack. You might imagine there’s food, directions, or GPS locators tucked into the kerchief. The card might show a fool, but the Fool isn’t stupid.
As a modern-day example, imagine you are getting your driver’s license. You’ve made the decision that you want or need your driver’s license. Now you must go through the steps of preparation. That might look like finding a person willing to teach you to drive, filling out paperwork to get a permit to drive, studying the rules of the road, and making an appointment to eventually take the test to prove what you’ve learned.
Packing Your Backpack: A Preparation Ritual
Like the Fool, you need to spend time planning what you’ll need on your journey. Of course, what you bring with you and what you leave behind is largely dependent on where you’re going. This ritual is deceptively simple, but the catch is that you must be mindful of the fact that your backpack won’t hold much.
There’s no trance to record or altar to set up, but there is a time limit. The first part of this ritual must be one hour.
Supplies: A sheet of paper, a pen, a place to write, and an ally. The representation of your ally could be a picture of a deity you work with, a trusted best friend who always gives you great advice, a candle dedicated to the mystery of it all, or whatever feels right for you.
Set Up: As before, take a cleansing bath or shower. As you do, think about the path of your calling. Say out loud: “I am stepping out on the road. This road is called _______ (getting my driver’s license, initiating into a coven, writing a magickal book, getting married, or whatever your calling is).” Repeat this phrase several times. Keep the representation of your ally close by, close enough that you can see or touch them easily.
Ritual: Pick up your pen and begin writing a list of words, whatever words or short phrases come to you, about your calling. If your calling is to embark on a spiritual pilgrimage, to visit a specific region of the world or sites that are sacred to your magickal practice or tradition, your list might contain words like: passport, magick, book a flight, dog-sitter, stone circle, scared to fly, never traveled by myself, how much does it cost, etc. Fill the paper with words connected to your calling. Any words, all the words. Don’t think about them; just write and keep writing.
When your page is full, look at what you’ve written. Take it all in. This is the magick of your calling turned into words. Soon enough you’ll turn those words and phrases into actions. But for now, look at them all.
Next, circle ten words or phrases with the most importance. Note that we didn’t say “most doable” or “easiest to complete.” Just circle ten words that seem the most important for your calling.
Turn your piece of paper over and rewrite your ten words. Thank your ally for witnessing your work.
The work of this ritual is over. Blessed be.
You might have figured out by now that the work of the ritual might be done, but the work of this stage isn’t. You’d be correct. In fact, it’s just beginning. Remember when we said you had to limit the ritual to just one hour? There’s a magickal method at work here; it’s about intuition. Circle your ten words and then leave them alone. Put them in a nightstand, affix them to your refrigerator door with a cute magnet, or place them on an altar. Don’t overwork or overthink them. Leave your list of words and phrases alone for a few days.
Here’s the real reason to keep this ritual short and to the point. It’s important for your mind, your magickal mind, your intuition, to turn over your list without any conscious input from you. Your ten words might pop into your brain like earworms whispering, “Passport, passport, passport,” or maybe you’ll suddenly see an article about Stonehenge on your social media pages—that’s all well and good. Take those synchronicities as signs that you’re on the right path and your rite of passage is well and truly begun, but don’t engage with them. Read that part again. For now, just for now, let your magickal mind mull over the words internally. Ignore the Stonehenge article. Notice that it’s there, but refrain from reading it.
If you can, let a week go by. Now return to your list and refresh your memory by reading your ten words aloud. Ready? Grab your magickal books, travel guides, study notes; click on all the bookmarked pages you’ve been collecting; call your best friend; scour the internet; get a tarot reading; email your astrologer; gather as much information as you can about your ten words. Work them one at a time or all at once, but work them thoroughly. What’s their definition? Which language are they from? Which airlines flies directly to England and what’s the best way to get to Stonehenge from the airport? Do as much research as you can on your ten words. But—and this is a big but—focus only on your ten words. If one of your word phrases was “flights to England,” just look that up. You’re not booking the trip just yet, so you needn’t go down the rabbit hole of comparing the cost of every flight or contacting every rental car company in Wiltshire.
Magick and practicality often overlap. Making a list can reduce anxiety and help a person organize their thoughts, and eventually their tasks, more efficiently. A spell, petition, or incantation are words strung together to accomplish a specific magickal aim. The list of words and phrases you created represent the most important parts of your calling to research. This is your magick spell taking shape. You wrote the words and then sorted them, even if you didn’t understand why you were doing that at first. That’s the intuitive, magickal part taking over. To be sure, you may end up doing more research. You might want to explore other avenues before settling on a course of action. That’s what the remaining words on your piece of paper are for. If you finish working through the first ten words and phrases and decide there’s more, pull out your paper and circle the next ten most important words.
For the overthinkers and overachievers in the crowd, you don’t need to work every word on your original sheet of paper. In fact, we strongly suggest you only concentrate on the first ten. Let the process flow naturally.
After the Demand: The Preparation
When the catalyst comes in the form of a demand, when you are thrust out of the comfort of your home into the dark forest, when life circumstances are foisted upon you, you have little to no time for preparation. You step into the rite of passage without a map or clarity on what to do next.
Looking at the tale of Vasilisa, the young girl was sent into the woods with only her bravery and her dolly to help her along. She didn’t choose to step into the darkness, but she took one step after another, trusting her wits to get her where she needed to go. There was no time to prepare, but she jumped into the moment and took faithful action.
This is true for you when you find yourself in a rite of passage you don’t really want to be in. You may not have time to pack your bag. The moment happens. Imagine the Tower card; the change has happened and it may feel like the world is crumbling around you. You can’t turn back. Your task is to take the steps to move forward and find your way through the rubble.
As a modern-day example, imagine you have been unexpectedly fired from your job. You are given time to pack your desk, handed your last check, and sent home. The moment of preparation doesn’t come. You don’t get to move into this rite of passage by stepping into the shallow end of the pool, slowly sinking into the newness of being in the water. Instead, you have been pushed into the deep end, the water shocking your system, and you have no choice but to swim or drown.
And, much like the dolly of Vasilisa, you may be more prepared than you realize. There is often a hidden reserve of experience that allows you to find your way. It’s as if your life experiences up to this point serve as preparation.
A Word About the Catalyst
The catalyst isn’t always the road you want to follow, but it’s often the road you need to walk. If there’s fear there, that’s not always bad. If there’s a certain amount of trepidation, that’s okay, maybe even preferred. The calling tells you you’ve already started a rite of passage, even if you don’t know it. Joseph Campbell, a mythologist, professor, and philosopher, said, “If you follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living.” 6
Campbell’s quote could be rewritten to say, “If you follow your fear, you put yourself on a kind of track,” or, “If you explore the deep, wet cave instead of the nice garden path with little solar lights pointing the way, you put yourself on a kind of track.” The calling often comes with the warning “Beware! Here be dragons.” Having said all that, the road you choose, or maybe the road that chooses you, can be joyful and easy too. Don’t overlook that road just because you think you must suffer through your rite of passage.
Stage Two: The Ordeal
Every rite of passage has an ordeal. You will be challenged in some way, shape, or form, and it’s that challenge that determines whether or not you transition from one phase to another, held in a new status by the community you are a part of.
The ordeal isn’t just one thing. Because rites of passage are so vast, personal, and different, there are several substages that happen during the ordeal process. Each segment offers their own unique challenges. You know the old expression “It’s always darkest before the dawn”? Some rites of passage are like that. You have to go through all the steps, no matter how much you try and avoid them. The ordeal itself is the big test. In fact, when most people think of a rite of passage, they are thinking only about the ordeal process. It is the meat and potatoes of the rite of passage dinner.
The distinct phases that make up the ordeal are:
• Dissolution
• Completing the tasks
• Tests of courage and/or knowledge
• The ritual
• Resolution
• Introduction to community
• Integration
Sounds like a lot? That’s why these are called rites of passage, not “a fun afternoon of passage.”
In any number of cultures and communities surviving today, there are stories of ordeals one must go through. In the Welsh myth “Taliesin,” we learn that Gwion Bach must undergo several magickal transformations and avoid being killed by the Witch goddess Cerridwen.7 Gwion’s rite of passage concluded when he survived the ordeal, was born a second time, and later grew into the magician, counselor, and mage we know as Taliesin.
Here is our retelling of the story:
Cerridwen and her husband, Tegid Foel, lived at Llyn Tegid. They had two children: a daughter and a son. The daughter, Creirwy, was destined for a life of ease. Her brother, Affagdu, was not so fortunate. His life would be hard, and he would not be accepted into society. Cerridwen, being a good mother, consulted the books of fferyllt and decided to brew an elixir of inspiration and knowledge so her son could become the wisest man of all. That way, people would seek him out.
Cerridwen knew this magickal brew would take a year and a day to be ready, but she could not keep the fire lit and the cauldron bubbling without help. So she enlisted the help of a blind man named Morda to stoke the fire. She also enlisted the help of a village boy named Gwion Bach to stir the cauldron three times a day. The Witch goddess went about her business collecting herbs for the brew. Every day she returned to the cauldron, adding in the items she collected and checking on Morda and Gwion.
On the day the brew was ready, when the magick was at its most potent, Gwion grabbed his spoon and stirred the cauldron a final time. As he did, three drops of the elixir splashed onto his thumb. Out of instinct, he put his thumb in his mouth to stop the burning and consumed the magick of the brew. In an instant, Gwion had all the knowledge in the universe, and in that same instant, Cerridwen knew that the spell had been ruined for her son.
In a rage, the goddess flew after Gwion and he began to run. With his newfound wisdom, Gwion transformed himself into a hare and scurried about the land. Cerridwen transformed herself into a greyhound and bounded after him. Just as she was about to catch him in her teeth, Gwion spied a river and leapt into the water, transforming into a salmon. He swam to the depths of the river. Not to be denied her quarry, Cerridwen transformed into an otter and plunged into the water to capture Gwion. Just as she was about to grab him with her otter’s claw, he jumped out of the water and transformed into a bird, flying high into the sky. Again Cerridwen changed form and became a bird of prey, flying after him. As her razor-sharp talons reached for Gwion, he transformed one last time into a kernel of wheat and landed on the ground amongst a field of grain.
Cerridwen flew to the ground, becoming a black hen, and ate all the seeds until she ingested the seed that was Gwion. As often happens in magickal tales, the moment Cerridwen ate the seed that was Gwion, she realized she was pregnant with him. For nine months, Gwion lay in the belly of the goddess and was sustained by her.
Cerridwen was angry. She thought she would kill the child, but instead, when the babe was born, she placed him in a small boat and sent him down the river. Sometime later (some say forty days, some say forty years), the small boat came to rest in a salmon weir, where a generally unlucky prince named Elphin found him. When he uncovered the boat and saw the baby, he remarked at the luminousness of his face and named him Shining Brow, which we now know as Taliesin.
Taliesin went on to become the best and wisest counselor to the kings of his time, being fully accepted in his new capacity as bard and wisdom holder.
In this tale, we can identify seven distinct parts that make up the ordeal. They are:
1. Dissolution: At the beginning of the story, Gwion Bach is given the task of stirring the cauldron by Cerridwen. He leaves the safe environment of his home and village and is no longer part of that world; his sole focus becomes doing the work the goddess puts before him. In dissolution, you are no longer this, but not yet that. You have to let go and forsake your former self without knowing what your new life is going to look like. This step may be conscious, but it just as likely could be subconscious. The dissolution may be a tremendous discomfort in your life that you can’t quite place.
2. Completing the Tasks: In the tale of Gwion Bach, he spends all day stirring the cauldron. He follows the instructions from the goddess. He completes the tasks given. In personal rites of passage, you face challenges or quests that must be completed to get through it. In order to step into the next phase, the next state of being, you have to complete the tasks laid before you. These could be logical steps of training or planning, but they could also be steps of mystery and unknown.
3. Test of Courage and/or Knowledge: Depending on how you view Gwion Bach’s story—either through divine intervention or happenstance—Gwion ends up tasting the three drops of the elixir he has been stirring for Cerridwen’s son. Immediately he is tested by being chased across the countryside, forced to shape-shift by an angry mother goddess. At some point, you have to prove what you know. Tests of courage or knowledge may be in the form of an actual test, but they could just as easily be a test of pushing your edges or boundaries. You may have to face a fear you didn’t even know you possessed.
4. The Ritual: While the whole story of Gwion and Cerridwen could be seen as a ritual, the portion where he must change his shape from a boy to a creature of land, sea, sky, and grain, resting in the womb of the mother is the ritual of transformation. In a personal rite of passage, there are magickal steps taken to shift your spiritual energy. The ritual section of a rite of passage is the whole purpose of this book: taking a potentially mundane life change and giving it spiritual significance.
5. Resolution: Gwion is reborn from Cerridwen. He has gone through the rite and is in his new form with new knowledge. This part of the ordeal is where you put on the mantle of that new title. Perhaps you possess the license, you have a baby, or you are an initiate of a Witchcraft lineage.
6. Introduction to Community: Finally, Gwion is found by Elphin, who calls him Taliesin. He is seen by the community as the new being, reborn, having survived the ordeal. It is at this time that you share your changes with friends, family, and relationship circles. In this part of the process, you may invite folks to help you celebrate or honor our new state of being.
7. Integration: Taliesin is accepted by his community and becomes known as the wisest magician and bard, serving the kings of the land during his time. Integration is the process of becoming comfortable with your new self and gaining mastery of who you have become. Sometimes this part of the ordeal lasts the rest of your life.
In the coming chapters, we offer you rituals that take place in several of these steps. A ritual can be done at any moment along the path of a rite of passage: before, during, and after. Where we offer one ritual in one place, you could expand it to ritualize any of the other steps that feel important, challenging, or celebratory.
Stage Three: Alone and Yet in Community
As you go through rites of passage, you can feel very isolated. It is an experience you seemingly go about alone, but that’s rarely actually true. As mentioned earlier, for every rite of passage a lone person goes through, there are other folks connected to the same rite of passage. While you go through the rite of passage of being born, another person is going through the rite of passage of giving birth.
And even then, there may be another person who is responsible for the medical care of both the birther and the person newly born. There are family and friends waiting to celebrate. There are coworkers and neighbors all awaiting the announcement of successful birth. Each individual is impacted by the rite of passage, even though only one person is being born.
Rites of passage, in and of themselves, are a community function, so it makes sense that there are different impacts based upon where you stand in the rite. Let’s imagine someone getting their driver’s license. At first glance, this simple rite of passage seems to only impact the person studying for—and taking—the driver’s test. They are the person who will pass or fail. They will face the ordeal. They will be the one who has to prove whether they are ready to step into the next phase of being a licensed driver.
However, imagine this same scenario as a parent who has been teaching their teenager how to drive. There may be fear for the safety of their child after becoming a licensed driver and the real-world dangers and responsibilities of driving a car. That same parent may also be going through an internal struggle of seeing their child growing up and gaining a certain level of independence. The parent might be feeling less important or needed by their child.
Then there is the larger community impact. The teenager’s friends now have someone to drive them around. The family unit may be able to shift some responsibilities. An older sibling may take on the responsibilities of driving younger siblings to school. The impact of that one teenager completing their rite of passage creates ripples of changes with repercussions impacting many people around them.
Magickally speaking, this is why it’s important to ritualize rites of passage. When you mark these moments as special events, you create space to hold all these possibilities. You have a place in ritual to celebrate, to name fears, to speak your best wishes, and to give legitimacy to the shifts occurring due to this rite of passage taking place. The declaration to community that there is a new driver on the road and the holder of that license being seen in a different way, with different responsibilities, are the exact purposes of a rite of passage.
Stage Four: The Advisor
You often mistakenly think your rite is completed after you successfully survive the ordeal, but there is more to a rite of passage. The steps don’t ever really end. There is follow-up and sometimes follow-through that must happen. After finding your comfort in a new state, you may find yourself in the role of advisor or initiator. In a familiar rite of passage, being the advisor may look like the antiquated practice of walking your daughter down the aisle. This could look like teaching your teenaged child how to drive, or perhaps holding the role of high priestess in the initiation ritual of someone stepping onto the path of Witchcraft.
Becoming the advisor or initiator is an often forgotten step of rites of passage, but it is a vital step. The gift must move, and magickally it is important that you pay it forward.
However, in most cases you are not taught how to be the advisor. You may not step into the role for many years or even decades. You know how it was for you going through the rite; you may remember what worked or what didn’t work for you. This may help you to course correct or make different choices than those who served as your advisor. But, just like when you initially went through the rite of passage, you may feel like you have to figure it out alone.
This is where the full circle of a rite of passage comes into play. Now your rite is to learn how to be the initiator, the advisor. Comfort with this step comes from practice. The more you help others, the more you understand the process of helping others, the more capable of an advisor you become.