• A silver pentagram necklace
  • A bottle of very good red wine (or fruit juice)
  • 4 candles for the elements
  • 1 black candle
  • 2 white candles
  • Bowl of specially prepared oil for this night
  • Vial of magick oil (your choice)
  • Pen
  • Your Book of Shadows
  • Tape player
  • Prerecorded tape of the journey you’ve made (listed below)
  • White cord (enough to create a circle around your sacred space)
  • Chalice
  • Incense of your choice
  • Athame
  • Water
  • Salt

Between the sunset and full dark of the day of your initiation, you will revive and set up your sacred space in preparation. Bathe with intent. Have all necessary things on the altar (including the silver pentacle and the bowl of specially prepared oil) within the boundary of your circle.

Make the incense of your choice and pour the wine into the chalice.

Be certain that you will not be disturbed.

Cast the circle as you have learned. Move deosil at all times.

Light only the candle in the west (do not invoke any of the guardians at this time).

Seat yourself before the altar and prepare yourself as you have learned. When you are ready, make the sign of the invoking pentagram of Earth with your athame over the container of specially prepared oil, then rub your entire body with it saying:
“I, (name), am properly prepared
to take the rite of initiation.
I have no fear. I am committed to this.
I have two perfect words, Love and Trust,
and with all things I will uphold my oath rightly.”

Start the tape of the journey. Be seated on the ground with your knees drawn up, your arms around them, and your head resting on your arms for the entire journey.

(Note: The terms “we” and “I” and “the rider” are used in a particularly interwoven pattern throughout the journey to indicate bout you and you-within-the-vision. Don’t let it disturb you. Once you’ve read the vision through, you’ll understand.)

The Journey Between the Worlds
I see before me the Tunnel of Time. I project myself toward this place and am drawn down and down, back and back, way, way back to before the dawn of Christendom in a land of emerald green and ageless beauty.

I am flying low over rolling hills and moorlands, circling freely over forests and small hamlets of country folk, over manor and mere heading toward an inevitable destiny.

I slow and close the distance between my world and this. The timelessness of a winter’s night is silent; not even the sounds of the hawk or the owl can be heard through the thickening pall. I descend.

Now I hear muffled sounds from the marshland below me. I come to ground level where the mist is not so thick, but moving, steadily shape shifting as it swirls around the mire.

There! Just ahead, on horseback, holding high a lantern to pick a path through this desolate place, is the horse and rider that I have been seeking.

I swoop slowly and land, as a mist, upon the horse’s rump.

We think of naught; we must not lose our thoughts upon any other theme than that of following the almost imperceptible path through this empty place.

No life here. The lights of a thousand lost souls glint through the mist to remind us of our peril, but we hesitate not and heed, not their warnings. My destiny burns within my soul and would destroy me were it not fulfilled.

I can see myself clearly by the light of the lantern; outlined with the ravages of many a sleepless night, I am gaunt. My jaw twitches with my effort, and my eyes are haunted by the dream. I am physically strong, cat-like. I clench the lantern, vice-like, in my hand. My clothing is simple: thronging crisscrossing the furs about my calves and woolen leggings as thick as mail about my thighs. My jerkin is the skin of a wolf snared in some past day and my cloak is russet and of heavy woven wool that hangs limply along the sides of my mount. I wear a hood of leather, but my hair lays in tangled rivulets down my back.

The length, thus far, of my journey lays heavily upon me, and my shoulders are bent forward with fatigue; but we may not stop until we are past this dreadful place.

Hour upon hour we move, well into the midnight, until at last the horse raises her head and snorts as she stumbles onto the grassland. We travel slowly still until the rider is certain of our bearings, then we roar with triumph and we are off, running like the wind, as the plain thunders beneath us!

We slow as dawn creeps above the horizon in a washed-out blur, and horse and rider, sweating at their efforts, breathe deeply at the sight. We come at length to a copse of trees into which we walk. We dismount and lead our beloved mare into the depths.

There, a stream, cool and deep, at which we drink before we lead the horse to graze beneath the oaks and peer around, cautiously, to guess that none come here often; that we might have peace for a few hours during which we will rest.

I know not why, but know it I do, that the rider wishes to be seen by no one, so we ride by night and hide by day so that none may know that we are abroad.

We unsaddle the mare, crooning to her as we do so, and rub her down with the blanket from beneath the saddle. A smile crosses the rider’s face, and a look that stirs my soul with its intensity and passion. Our task done, we proceed to prepare a small fire over which we roast potatoes and a strip of dried meat.

We draw a leather flask from our pouch from which we quaff deeply, the contents sweet and fiery. Having eaten of our simple meal, we stamp the fire and curl within the cloak to sleep away the daylight hours.

And so I watch
at one point I rise above the trees and seek to ascertain our safety, for although the rider is furtive and a feared of noticed, I ache for the quest, knowing it is also my own, and my compassion reaches out to the strength within our sleeping form who would do no harm without good cause. I know not how I would rouse us should danger approach, but there is no farm or village within distance, so I fear not for us.

I return to find us turning about restlessly in our sleep, the dream causing much mumbling and sighing; and so it is for a few hours more until I am woken by my own shouts. Sweat beads upon my face, I stand and remove my hood and cloak, and walk to the stream to wash myself, and so lose the dreaming. I again light the fire and draw from my pouch a large cup that I fill from the stream. I brew a draught of strong herbs to help me to wakefulness for the long night ahead.

My journey will be done, thus far, on this night at least where riding is concerned. The journey of the rest of my life is just beginning, the end of which is assured in my mind. There is no turning back from what I so earnestly seek but what I so earnestly dread, for it is unclear to me what ventures will befall me between the present moment and some eventful death.

I stamp the fire and cover its remains with dirt and brambles so that none may know that any had passed this way. I call to my horse and she comes from her grazing by the stream. I saddle her and attach my pouch to my belt. I don hood and cloak, and mount. We move slowly through the trees in the direction of the setting sun. We reach the edge of the woods and wait.

When the night is black, I ride; hour upon hour do I ride. This night is clear and I watch the stars for a bearing. Sometimes I walk the horse, sometimes it almost seems that she flies. Rising behind me the Moon glows full and high, lighting the way.

Ahead I see monolithic rocks rising to the night sky and the mist of ocean reaches all about us. The tang of salt is in the rider’s nose and I see my nostrils flare and my eyes widen with that same unseeing passion. We approach the cliffs and I hear the roaring of waves thrashing upon the rocks below as if relentlessly drawing all within themselves. A wild place is this! I see a vast expanse of inky blackness within each rock’s shadow, which is also the sea over which the Moon glows, causing a pathway between herself and the things beneath the waters.

I stop to light the lantern for the path is rough and the mare troubles with each step. I sigh and lay my head upon my arm before raising myself straight within the saddle. “It is now,” I whisper, “We wait and seek no more! As known, I have arrived!” I look ahead to a rocky outcrop like a finger upon the sea.

I ride hard then, sparks flying from the horse’s hooves upon the granite way. As we approach the peninsula, I see a faint glow, as if from another lantern. I slow down now, and throw my own light over the cliff. I am wary and seek to approach unseen. I dismount and walk toward the glow. I see a small cottage almost buried, so deeply was it built within the overhang of the cliffs, like a tiny fortress against the wild winds and sea. A lonelier spot I have never known.

The rider’s face is set like stone and I cannot perceive what thoughts are veiled within. We walk with dignity, as if to our death.

I come at length to the door, of massive proportion compared to the size of the cottage. I hesitate not but bang a fist upon it, a sigh upon cold lips. There is a wait, the a woman’s voice calls from beyond the door, “Who comes?”

“I am called (name),” I shout. There is a laugh from within and the door is swung wide. There stands a small woman dressed in male attire, with wild copper hair cascading down her back.

“You are doubly welcome, (name), and thrice! We have waited long for you!”

“I knew it to be true!” I reply, although I smile not. “Was it you who called me here?”

“It was your own dream, (name), and not of our doing. Enter. I shall tether the mount and see her well.”

“What name have you?” I ask, without moving; but she just smiles and shakes her head and again bids me enter.

The room is dark save for the lantern in the window and the fire in the hearth. I see that only the first of the cottage is man-hewn and that the rest is of solid rock formed from the depths of the cliff. A hooded figure stands from a chair beside the fire. Straight of frame and as tall as an elm, but with the whiteness of hair to tell of great age, that falls to shoulders that show no stoop, hallowed with fire glow. He wears a robe of heavy dove-gray wool, and as he moves toward me he smiles. I see great love in the smile, but as I look into his eyes I flinch at their blackness and depths. There is unfathomable power within them as though they had seen the passing of time from its very conception and had learned from the travel all that had been there to learn.

“I’ve missed you, (name)! Blessed be!” he says, as though he knows me well. He takes my arm and leads me to stand before the fire. “we have known that you would come.” He laughs with obvious glee.

“Who is the woman? By all the Gods, who are you?” I demand, as, although this whole thing excites me, I fear it also and am tired of the mystery that has haunted me waking and sleeping.

“She is who I am, and who you are to become!” he replies.

“Her name?”

“Call Her (Goddess), and She will answer you!”

“And you, Sir, what be your name?” I ask again.

(Goddess) is one of the names that I am known to be, child.”

“And why am I here?” I ask, hoping for confirmation of my yearning.

“To learn, (name), the secrets of life and fire! To be at one with Her and mold tomorrow with all of my yesterdays!” he says.

“What must I do?” I ask.

“Show me the ritual!”

You will return, then, to the place of your circle and proceed with the rite. Refer to your Book of Shadows only if absolutely necessary. Go deosil about your circle and light all the candles, then the incense. Consecrate the water with your athame, making the sign of the pentagram in it. Consecrate the salt, likewise, and add it to the water.

Now stand and, beginning at the gate of Earth, hold aloft your pentagram and bear it about your circle, leaving it at the gate once you have returned there. Do likewise from the gate of Air, with the incense; at the gate of Fire with both the black and white candles of duality (that you have on the altar); and from the gate of Water with the consecrated water, sprinkling as you walk your circle.

Return to the altar, raise your dagger aloft and say:
“I, (name), in this place which is not a place,
And in this time which is not a time,
Do give my most solemn and sacred oath
That I will abide by my chosen path
And will fulfill the dance of my destiny
Without complaint,
Knowing it to be the Way of that
Which I call my Goddess
And that which I call my God!
I shall keep silent all things
Entrusted to me by the Gods
And by those who seek silence of me,
In the true nature of priestess!
I hereby take upon myself the life of witch
And tell all that gather here
That my name is (name)!”

Now take your pentagram necklace from the altar, go deosil about your circle, and hold it up to each gateway saying:
“Earth, I call to you,
Great guardian of the gate of Earth!
I hold before you the symbol of my initiation!
Acknowledge me,
For I am, (name),
Priestess and witch!”

Place it momentarily on the pentacle to infuse it with the power of Earth.
“Air, I call to you,
Great guardian of the gate of Air!
I hold before you the symbol of my initiation!
Acknowledge me,
For I am, (name),
Priestess and witch!”

Hold the pentacle within the smoke of the incense for a moment to infuse it with the power of Air.
“Fire, I call to you,
Great guardian of the gate of Fire!
I hold before you the symbol of my initiation!
Acknowledge me,
For I am, (name),
Priestess and witch!”

Pass the amulet through the flames to charge it with the power of Fire.
“Water, I call to you,
Great guardian of the gate of Water!
I hold before you the symbol of my initiation!
Acknowledge me,
For I am, (name),
Priestess and witch!”

Dip the amulet into the consecrated water to charge it with the power of that element.

Return to your altar and drop the pentacle necklace over your head.

Take up your athame and place the blade, oh, so sensually, into the wine in your chalice and say:
“Power and passion, the way of the art;
Lover and lover as Goddess and God,
United and blessed, the blood of the vine,
Cup and athame conjoined through desire!”

Sip. Put a drop of this fluid on your finger and trace the pentagram on your own forehead with it.

Stand and take the vial of sacred oil. Put a little on both of your feet saying:
“Blessed be these feet
Made to walk the path of the twice-born!”

Touch your knees with the oil saying:
“Blessed be these knees
Made to kneel at the altar of all things!”

Touch your genitals with the oil saying:
“Blessed be the way of the creation of life!”

Touch oil to your chest saying:
“Blessed be this breast
Formed in beauty and strength!”

Touch oil just above and below your lips saying:
“Blessed be these lips that speak the truth;
By all the names of Goddess and God!
May I be blessed! Blessed be!”

Finally you will dedicate yourself to one of the faces of both Goddess and God; name them, understanding that these names represent certain powers and influences that you seek to know and represent. Oath yourself to clarity and the refusal of betrayal of the Way of Witch.

Drink deeply now from the cup, leaving a libation that you will pour onto the earth.

Take up your athame and circle from Earth to Air to Fire to Water, farewelling each guardian and closing each gate.

Write in the back of your Book of Shadows the ritual name that you have taken and the date of your initiation (and any other pertinent details).

Then open your circle using your athame to withdraw the force field; earth it as you have been taught. Put away all things of ritual.

Have a feast to ground yourself and celebrate.

The rite is done. Blessed be!

Before you go to sleep that night, and each night for a couple of weeks, repeat silently, or whispered, using your ritual name:
“I am (name),
Priestess and witch.”