Conclusion
Thank you, Beloved!
A personal note from Danielle:
Thank you for participating in this mini-course for Seasons of Moon and Flame. This book was a true labor of love, and I hope readers hear their own grandmothers’ voices when they read the hags’ words, see their own lived-out-loud stories reflected in the tales, and are met with an invitation to weave a world through witchcraft, seasonal energies, and personal myth-work.
Join me monthly in my online coven, The Hag Ways Collective, where I share stories from my books and my life, where I speak with other Hag School teachers, discuss archetypal energies and spell-work, and take questions from coven members. If you feel called to work with me one-on-one, you might also consider my apprenticeship program. The Hag School also offers seasonal retreats and the Flame-Tenders’ Training for those who wish to facilitate this work for others.
May this be your wildest season yet.
In gratitude,
Danielle
“We hear our grandmothers calling, yes, but we also
feel their greatest dreams coming to fruition through us.
We weep for the babes of the future, yes, but we also see
their precious faces loving the way we love, lighting candles
and looking to the moon with the same longing that
rolls off our own fertile tongues every time we chant and
sing. They are beguiled by this world, and we are beguiled, too. We are
their forebears, after all — and, if nothing else, we aim to be worthy of
their reverence.
May our magick be a conversation with the babes of the future as well
as our ancestors, for we are all the beloved living and the beloved dead, if
only on different cross-stitched seams on the cosmic fabric of space and
time. May we look to those wild places of contradiction where we are at
once overwelling with the sweet nectar of hope and cracked by the driest
apathy and dusty hopelessness. May we be good hags. May we make good
art. May we slow down and taste the marrow of the magick we are brewing.
May we move the way we want our ghosts to move, and may we let
our stories stretch and breathe, leaving room for those impossible miracles
that are, as yet, unwritten.”