Diaries of an off grid witch. 
Entry # 3
October 28, 2023


It’s been a while. At first I intended this diary to follow me through every day. But I was soon reminded that I’m generally not one to do the same thing every day. Some would call me fickle, I would call myself dynamic, and to be dynamic one must be willing to pivot the plot a plenty. 
I got a bit ill two weeks ago…a common cold the had my head pounding and my breathing less than desirable. I wasn’t inspired to write, or be creative in any manner what so ever. Just as my energy was returning and I could see the and feel the clarity returning, my moon cycle arrived and my energy plummeted again. I’ve had my moon cycle for 30 years, or approximately 390 moons…and every time I am in need of deep rest for 2-3 days. It wasn’t until about a decade ago that I got wise to my cycles and actually chose to give myself that rest when needed instead of trying to push through. I’ve fashioned my life around this cycle and have done a pretty decent job of making sure I’ve giving myself what I need at all times, but especially at this time of the moon. So suffice to say, at least a whole week passed by with mostly just hours of rest. I do believe the body will create this rest for you if it’s what you truly need and aren’t heeding the quiet call. It was hard to slow down when I had so many things to try to do in the three week period before leaving on my autumn adventure west. It was a practice in surrendering to what was, and allowing myself the grace to say, ok, there are things that I just certainly will not get done this fall, but I will do my best to get done what I actually need to! This is all to say, that writing has fallen to the wayside to a certain degree. Though there are sill poems flowing out of me, and a few prompts shared between friends that are intending to help us reflect on all the changes that have internally occurred in the last 8-10 years. And one evening dedicated to the writing circle, which is generally just me and one other woman who gather on-line (and once in person) to write together, be creative together, and allow ourself the space to express and be witnessed if we wish. So, yes, there are still words coming out, yet this diary has sat untouched by my hands, though my mind has wandered to these pages quite a few times. 


Tonight I sit in a beam of full moon light, on the wooden floor of my cabin, softly cushioned by the wool mat beneath my body. I can see the moon through the branches of the giant spruce and fir that tower around me, and a planet too that hangs to the left beneath the moon. I’m not sure what planet it is, maybe Venus, or Mars, or Saturn, truly I have no idea, but if I need to I will bet on Venus…and some research after writing this should bring me the answer. 


Arriving home to my tiny temple in the forest this evening, I am somehow thrilled by the crunchy fallen leaves that great my feet with every step I take. I gather my clothes from the line, and trundle through the path, moon light bright enough to show me the way and I step inside and see this perfect moon beam upon my floor and it feels too perfect to not sit right in and bathe in the energy of this time. And it is here, that I finally feel the urgent call of this diary, these pages that were beginning to get lonely, and I listen to the urge, because that’s what a witch does right, she listens to the universe as it calls to her and gently nudges her to what spell must be cast next. I wrote a poem last night, that I will too include here, even though I have already shared it on instagram, I feel like it belongs in more than one place. And so it will find it’s way further out into the world, and my vows will get stronger, and my dreams will become more vivid, and my hope for a better world will gain more strength. I never meant for this diary to be just for me, I have never intended my spells to kept under wraps, I write from my soul and my heart so that the world knows I am here, and that I am worthy, and deserving of space to express. Just as you too, if you are reading this, or listening to this, are to be reminded of your own worth, of your own beautiful boringness on this earth - I want us all to remember.




there are too many guns in the world, 
too many bombs, 
too many mad men with power 
at their fingertips, 
cowards who send people into places 
to fight wars 
fed by the need for more - 
fuelled by greed 
and a desire to be seen as “on the top”. 
but at what costs, 
and on the top of what?
a world that has crumbled 
to rubble and waste
after too many terrible decisions
that take no consideration for human life. 
i vow to hold tight 
the hope for world peace - 
i vow to believe in a better way 
upon this earth - 
i vow to unlearn all the violent ways 
of my own being - 
i vow to never stop seeing
the humanity in each and every soul 
who incarnates on this earth. 
i choose to recognize hate for what it truly is - a lack of love felt from within. 
i choose to perceive the destructive patterns of this world 
as something to be disrupted, 
and every time i can,
i will disrupt hate with love,
i will disrupt violence with peace, 
i will disrupt greed with generosity,
i will call for a ceasefire 
of all weapons of war - 
and i will keep dreaming of a world 
where we only ever relate 
with kindness and care. 


Good night friends, 
May you feel the warmth of love somewhere within you this eve. 
​

I wake to the sound of my fathers mill, becoming quietly alert as the small engine starts. I find myself wondering where the furry friend is at the end of my bed - every time I finish a pet sit and come home to my cabin in the woods, I feel at odds with the new reality of no other living creature as a companion. And then the squirrels remind me, they’re still here. But I don’t really want them here…they’re more annoying than the mice - finding ways in and places to nest no matter how hard I try to keep them out. I cover the holes and they chew through the walls. What can I do, they’ve lived in this cabin for longer than me! I have made the decision though to build them their own place - a mini replica of this tiny temple - but all for them and filled with the small spaces they like to call home. I’ve added it to my mental list. Build the squirrels their own cabin so I can finally have some peace. I say a little prayer that it will work to gently and lovingly relocate them.


As usual, I wake slowly, thinking of coffee and raisin toast as I lay in bed. First a banana and then comes the rest. As I sit and enjoy the leisurely breakfast, I start checking in with myself about what feels apt to pursue today. I decide to start with cleaning the chimney, a task that’s been on my list since the spring. As a take it all apart, scrape it inside and out, I think to myself : “this is a good skill to have, cleaning chimneys”. It might seem less than extraordinary - but it makes me wonder, how many people in this world have actually ever cleaned a chimney on their own, and if I were ever in a situation where I was the only one, I’d actually know what to do and have the confidence to make it happen. So, yes, I confer with myself, it is a great skill to have. While I’m at it, I clean out the extra ash and soot from the inside of the wood stove. It’s strangely satisfying to sweep away all the built up ash in the upper chambers that has collected over the last many moons. Clearing space for it to happen all over again as the moons continue to wax and wane into the colder months. 


I walk to the garden with my tray of ashes in hand, dumping them onto my hugel culture mound I’ve been building for the last three years. Ashes, sticks, weeds, leaves, goat shit and straw. I’m betting on some fertile soil and look forward to finally planting on it next spring. For now, the mess of weeds are adding their magic to the mix. 


My sister arrives and we go for a walk in the woods. We talk of love and life and the things that make us go “huh?!”. We stop at times to just listen to the running water, the leaves falling, the dogs romping through the sticks and branches scattered on the forest floor. I find a perfect mossy tree base gently bending over their stream, to lounge upon as we share stories of the strange ways we sometimes feel when someone tells us things we’d rather not know. 


Back at the cabin, I fit my chimney pieces together, revelling in the ease of this process today - as it doesn’t always go so smoothly since I have couple twists and turns as my chimney reaches for the wall. Satisfied to have that part complete, I tell myself I will redo the gasket seal on the door another day, but another day soon, before I leave on my next trip, so that when I return in the midst of winter, my stove is at its optimum. 


It’s lunch time now and I make myself a quick meal, enjoying it on the front steps of my little deck - I revel in this time of year when the biting bugs have all vanished and I can finally enjoy more than 45 seconds outside on a nice day. I decide on an afternoon coffee, which I rarely do but today seems right for this kind of thing. I drink it slowly, still on the steps, watching the squirrels and the season slowly change. I carry the last sips into the garden with me, to see what I might be able to harvest. In the garden I find mini cucumbers, tomatoes, a giant zucchini, green beans, both fresh and for seed, kale, mizuna, cilantro and dill. Not bad for a barely tended garden season. My mind wanders to what kind of kitchen witchery I’ll get up to with this fresh garden ingredients. Time will tell and creativity will lead the way. 


I help my father move a heavy piece of metal, and then notice the mill yard could use some clearing up. I shovel sawdust, one of my favourite mill yard tasks, and carry it by wheel barrow over to my cabin where I dump it on my path that connects my front steps to my shower - this section needs a bit of building up as it often gets mushy and mucky - one of the damp spots found over in this part of the woods. 


I move chunks of slab wood destined for the firewood pile over to the chopping block - telling myself it’s my strength training for the day, filling the wheel barrow a little more full each time = building muscle as I go. 


My sister arrives back home, from wherever she has been, and she asks if I’m up for another walk. I hesitate as I still have things I’d like to do before the dark sets in, but I remind myself the importance of slowing down and enjoying the world around me. I casually convince her to walk up the hill this time (rather than deeper in to the woods) - there is resistance, on my part and hers as it’s steep and offers little reprieve as the climb begins as we step out of the driveway. Yet it’s always worth it to get to the top, or whatever we choose to be the top today, which is not the “top” per-se but a plateau along the way that offers some of the greatest views I’ve ever seen. We are greeted by a sky filled with fluffy clouds, shifting between blues and purples and pinks - cotton candy skies we call them and imagine ourselves nestled in the sweetly spun sugar, held by the universe itself. 


We walk the bumpy winding dirt road through the field, my sister ringing her bell to alert any wildlife that might be hanging out there tonight as well. We walk towards the line of sunlight in the distant part of the field, never quite reaching it, yet enjoying the light show on the clouds every step of the way. Turning in circles to take in the full 360 degree view. Ocean, hills, trees and sky for as far as the eyes can see. We give thanks for the opportunity to walk in someone else’s field, enjoying the view that belongs to us all. 


On our way back down, we hear an owl call out several times. Perhaps it is calling to us, perhaps calling to the moon, or its mate, or something else entirely. I’m always grateful to hear an owl calling through the night, sometimes offering reflective wisdom, other times offering warnings of fate. 


Tidying my cabin is still on my list, so I do just that, shaking my rugs outside, putting away the items still in my suitcase, sorting my laundry, vacuuming the bits left behind by the mice while I was away. I light my fire and burn some sage & rose incense recently gifted to me from a soul sister friend. I step into the night, make my way to my outdoor shower and enjoy a long hot shower under the stars with my twinkle light strewn driftwood offering subtle illumination as I enjoy one of my favourite things about living this way - hot water outdoor showers with a view of the trees and the sound of the stream at my feet. 


I wind down my day with a quick meal and braiding strings for my art while I watch reality tv on my little screen. Productive mindful mindless relaxation at it’s best. 


I crawl into bed and give thanks for warmth, for life, for love and for all the things that make my heart feel alive. 

Diaries of an off grid witch.


Entry # 1. October 10, 2023


I’ve lived off grid since before I can even remember. I came to this world in a way that kept me tethered to the ways of the quiet earth. Dark skies with bright stars. Open fields filled with berries and bees. Rivers and streams and changing leaves, these are things that make me who I am. 


I arrive home, after two weeks away from my little cabin in the woods. It’s dusk and the trees are beginning to close in around me as I make way along the winding path, using the fallen birch branches I’ve place along the sides to light my way. Listening earnestly to the sound of the stream that runs year round when the weather is right and the rains have continued to fall. I hear it and make sure to keep to the left of it, the low branches of fir saplings tickling my arms as I pass by. 


I knew when I left two weeks ago, my power station was at 0%, and since my cabin is completely surrounded by trees, it’s not set up to charge by the sun while I’m away…thank goodness for battery powered fairy lights and an led battery lantern an old man gave me last year. The red lantern, where is it?  I look for it in all the usual places…nowhere to be seen, ahhh, my sister, she mentioned she’d been over to have a fire in my cabin a few days ago and I suspect she used the lantern to light her way through the woods to her home nearby. I text her to ask and she says she’ll bring it right over. I need it to go get kindling, which is closer to her place than mine so I walk her back through the woods, load my arm with dry kindling, pop into my fathers house to pick some extra fairy lights I left there during my camp out in his living room during the last hurricane that passed through these parts. 


Settling back into the cabin, lovingly called “my tiny temple”, I find a pan of mouldy apple cinnamon coffee cake I forgot to take to the compost before departing a fortnight ago. I also forgot to empty my grey water buckets under the sink, so I do this now, finding two dead mice having met their fate in a swirl of dirty dish water. Living with mice seems to be par for the course when you live in a hand built home amongst the trees. They’re so cute, and so darn frustrating as well. They are a great teacher that the polarity of feelings and emotions can exist at once…I am both annoyed and enamoured by them. Both realities are true and it’s often hard to know what to do. While I hate to see them drowned, a part of me thinks “better than them running free amongst my belongings”…it’s tough, I love them and I find them disturbing and messy. 


I light my fire, light an incense to take away that musky woods scent that seems to always come with living so close the the fecundity of the earth. Sometimes I love it, other times I want to smell frankincense or jasmine or a mixture of resins and herbs meant to mimic the scent of unicorns. I give thanks for the warmth of the fire and the sweet smells that fill my nostrils as both fill this space with life and sensual delights. 


I step outside to pee, and as I squat down, I think to myself, wow, it’s been two whole weeks since I peed on the ground. There are some things in life that feel more natural than others, and this is one of those things, along with outdoor showers that seems to me to make so much more sense than their inside counterparts. 


Hello home. I missed you and I am glad to be back.