“When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain?” – First Witch, Macbeth, Act 1, Scene 1
“Dance is one of the most powerful forms of magical ritual… It is an outer expression of the inner spirit.” – Ted Andrews

The air thickens, the sky bruises into shades of violet and charcoal, and the first scent of impending rain pricks at your senses. To many, a brewing storm is a signal to retreat indoors, to bolt the windows and wait for the stillness to return. But for the Green Witch, it is a surge of raw, kinetic potential waiting to be woven into intention. Growing up, my mom and I always loved calling it “Witch Weather,” those gray, overcast days, where the very air is charged all around us. To this day, it is still my favorite kind of weather: dark and tempestuous, the ozone-bite making the plants and trees even greener than they normally are.
It is a heightened reality, and “heightened realities” are what we are trying to create in ritual work – a time where possibility is almost tangible to the one daring to grasp it – so why not take the opportunity to draw from it when nature is giving it to you for free?
That charge in the air is a tool for the witch to call on. In the chapter on Dance and Knot Magic, from “Many Veils of The Moon: A Grimoire of Lunar Magic for the Green Witch,” we explore how movement serves as a bridge between the physical and the ethereal, how to call the winds and bind their powers in knot magic for the Witch to unleash later.
But Dance in magical practice can be so much more than that!
It is important to remember that dance is just one of many ways to raise energy for spellwork. You might be accustomed to methods that are more familiar to the contemporary practitioner: the steady hum of a chant, the focused heat of a candle flame, or the quiet, internal buildup of visualization. All work well, and all have their place in a well-rounded practice; and you should dip your toes in each from time to time. However, dance is perhaps the most efficient “multi-tool” in a witch’s repertoire. It is one of the few methods that performs the three primary ritual steps in a single action: it raises energy, grounds the practitioner, and defines the ritual space all at once.
As your heart rate climbs and your breath deepens, you generate friction in the unseen world, raising energy and building a reservoir of power within your own vessel. Simultaneously, the rhythmic strike of your feet against the earth – the “stomp” that mimics the heartbeat of the land – serves to keep you grounded, ensuring you don’t become overwhelmed by the very power you are stirring up. This is a primal pulse, a shamanistic tradition that stretches back to humanity’s earliest attempts to communicate with the divine. Ritual Dance dates back to 8000 BC as part of religious worship, and it is a global tradition shared by all of humanity.
So, when we dance, we aren’t just “moving” to move; we are tapping into a lineage of magical practitioners who used their bodies as lightning rods for attracting spiritual power.
To truly engage with the wind and weather, I have always found that extending one’s physical reach makes a world of difference. Using a ritual staff or a broom with red ribbons tied to it creates a tactile connection to the elements. Red is the color of vitality and the spark of action; as the wind picks up, those ribbons become visual indicators of the spirit moving through your workspace. They catch the restless energy of the gale and tether it to your physical tool.
And by swinging that ribbon-tied staff or broom in wide, sweeping arcs around yourself, you are not just performing empty gestures – you are setting the boundaries of the ritual space, and “stirring the storm” like a grandmother stirs a pot.
All of these are circles over circles: the turn of your body, the spin of the staff or broom arcing overhead, then swooping it low to the ground around you. The momentum of the ribbons cutting through the atmosphere, physically and energetically marking your ritual space – it is yours, and anything you desire is possible within it! You become the still point at the center of the turning world, protected and focused within a perimeter fueled by your own exertion and the wind’s cooperation.
And when you practice Ritual Dancing, you are participating in a form of sympathetic magic, too. You move as the wind moves; you respond to the thunder as it rolls. This alignment allows you to weave your magic into the natural environment. The physical fatigue that follows isn’t just tiredness – although you should remember to replenish your electrolytes! – It is the sign of a successful calling of power. You have acted as the conduit, pulled the energy down, directed it toward your goal, and released it into the universe.
I encourage you to take your practice outside the bounds of quiet contemplation during the next change in weather. Grab your staff or broom, tie your ribbons, and meet the wind halfway. Try ritual dance and see how it engages you in your spellwork, how does it raise power, and how does it create the sacred space? Watch how your magic shifts when your body becomes the brush that draws the circle.
For more details: https://www.collectiveinkbooks.com/moon-books/authors/mitchell-king






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