HEKATE Queen of the Crossroads

A DEVOTIONAL ZINE CURATED BY DANI BURLISON & ALYSSA ROSE

 Ækátî
(Ἑκάτη)

Orphic Hymn to Ækáti (Hekate)

Call Ækátî of the Crossroads,
worshipped at the meeting of three paths,
oh lovely one.
In the sky, earth, and sea,
you are venerated in your
saffron-colored robes.
Funereal Daimôn,
celebrating among the souls
of those who have passed.
Persian, fond of deserted places,
you delight in deer.
Goddess of night,
protectress of dogs,
invincible Queen.
Drawn by a yoke of bulls,
you are the queen who
holds the keys to all the Kózmos.
Commander, Nýmphi,
nurturer of children,
you who haunt the mountains.
Pray, Maiden,
attend our hallowed rituals;
Be forever gracious
to your mystic herdsman
and rejoice in our
gifts of incense.
A Brief Interview with Cyndi Brannen, PhD,
psychologist and author of numerous books
including: “Keeping Her Keys: An Introduction to
Hekate's Modern Witchcraft” and “Entering
Hekate's Cave: The Journey Through Darkness to
Wholeness.”
1. It feels like society is standing at the
crossroads with some huge collective decisions
to make about the world we want to live in. How
can folks engage with or otherwise work with
Hekate as we move further into uncharted
territory? Do you have any personal thoughts
about how she can help us—either individually or
collectively—at this moment in time?
Hekate is truly a goddess for the turbulent times in
which we live, both at the global level and in our
private lives. She abides at all transitions, whether
entrances to physical structures or energetic shifts
in the web of the universe. Her many ancient titles
and roles testify to this, from her placement at
household shrines to statuary at boundaries within
cities and towns, to epithets that describe her as
"Earth Cleaver," and "Gate Crasher." There is a
thrum in thevibrational essence of our planet that
corresponds to her powers. We know, somewhere
deep inside, that the jig is up.
Humanity has laid waste to
our planet, the structures
which uphold the systems
that lead to this are
crumbling. The planet herself
is pushing back, with a
ferocity that summons the
epithet of Brimo, a sort of
unbridled rage. Additionally,
Hekate is very much
associated with the deeper
world of magick and mystery,
which is sorely lacking with
any authenticity in the
mainstream. We can feel
disempowered, bewildered,
and anxious about the state
of the world and how it
impacts our personal lives.
Turning to magick and mystery can help us
return to our center, enhance self efficacy, and,
perhaps most of all, show us that there is a way
through this mess. Hekate's strong presence in
our minds, dreams, and uncanny
synchronicities, teaches us that she offers
guidance, protection, and connection.

In Keeping Her Keys: An Introduction to Hekate's

Modern Witchcraft, I described these times like
this: We can interpret this as the age of the Holy
Darkness, the time when the Divine Feminine
(including Hekate) is reclaiming their position in
the lives of their chosen, but also in a shift in
society. Using Holy Darkness to describe this
time is fitting because of the imagery of Hekate
as the Torchbearer shining Her light along our
way, with the moon also shining upon us. The
moon is the symbol of feminine energy, too. The
Holy Darkness extends to the entire age that we
are living in. I feel the tremendous interest in
devotion to Hekate right now reflects Her rise to
energetic prominence that we are currently
experiencing. Her Holy Darkness is spreading all
over the world – across cultures, languages,
genders, etc. I can't explain it, but I can feel it.
Modern Hekatean Witchcraft has emerged just
when it's most needed. It's almost as though
Hekate guided us to create it to meet the growing
need for teaching of new initiates and for healing
ourselves and the world. I’m offering up this book
as a way of helping to fill the void of information
about practicing Modern Hekatean Witchcraft.
In her complexities, Hekate comes with not only
her fierceness, witchcraft, and empowerment, but
also with her lesser known aspects as that evoke
her gentler side. Epithets from antiquity such as
Paionios, which means Healer, and Atala, The
Tender, teach us that the way forward is not
purely through brute force, but also kindness.
Each time we align with Hekate, be it through
noticing her messages or a ritual honoring her,
we are healing both ourselves and the world.
2. So many women I know are currently going
through major transformations in their lives
and feel as though we are stuck in underworld
journeys. What can Hekate teach us about how
to find our own metaphorical torches to light
the way?

"When we are at a crossroads, or already in the

Underworld, Hekate can rise up out of the deeper
world, showing up in the cracks of our lives. She
sends her emissaries—angels and hungry ghosts
alike—to do her bidding. They occupy our
dreams, invade our imaginations, and drop their
uncanny hints until we pay them heed. Although
their faces vary and their methods may be
disparate, their message is always the same:
Wake up! They intrude on our quiet minds until
we hear them speak. And when we do, they tell
us stories that unsettle us. They bring back the
past, show up our own faults, and generally
shake us to the core. That is the work of Hekate
in action. She scares the life back into us. She is
the spirit of the sacred feminine that calls us to
embark on the journey of the soul." - from
Entering Hekate's Cave: The Journey Through
Darkness to Wholeness.
Entering Hekate's Cave, offers
a way through the personal
underworld journey through
personal inquiry, natural
magick, and a series of rituals
inspired by the ancient rites at
Eleusis, centered in the myth
of Persephone. To Enter
Hekate's Cave intentionally
shifts the underworld journey.
We become the narrators of
our story, calling our power
back to us, in a sense taking
the torch offered by Hekate
and using it to illuminate our
own.
In the ancient stories that feature Hekate, she is
almost always the guide, not the star of the tale.
It is her unique governance over the in-between
that compels us into the shadows. Shining light
on what lies in our personal shadow is a deep
process, that evolves over time and only by
prioritizing this work. Becoming aware of the
factors that led us into the underworld, in a
manner realizing how we are the young
Persephone, permits us to follow Hekate's wisdom
trail through the darkness so that we, like dear
Persephone, become sovereign. She’ll show you
the way to transmute that pain into your power.
Acceptance of the past, resistance to remaining
stuck in the underworld and claiming your crown
are all things revealed when we follow Hekate's
torches as Persephone did. Contemporary society
says, “Pain is bad. Run from it.” However, closing
our eyes to our suffering, and that of others, only
serves to render us the helpless victim. Through
practice we can learn to be a conquering
sovereign of our pain. Following Persephone’s
example, we can become a Queen of Pain. Like
Persephone, our crown can be constructed from
the dust, blood and tears of the wisdom gained
from our suffering when we allow Hekate to
unlock what is true and healing for us.

3. I see more and more people developing an

interest in Hekate. Do you have any advice or
cautions for newbies wanting to connect with
her?

When we begin to attune to Hekate, it can be very

exciting and, at times, scary, a state of being I
called "scited." My number one tip is to not rush.
Hekate isn't going to abandon us. Take the time to
pay attention - to listen instead of act. She is
already sending messages, but we can miss them
because we hyperfocus on doing a bunch of things
instead of sitting quietly and noticing. Over the
years, I've heard countless stories of how, once we
slow down and contemplate, we see that Hekate
has always been with us.
She comes in dreams, in uncanny encounters,
and always sends symbols, from keys to animal
allies. In Entering Hekate's Garden, I wrote about
this time of "scitement": This period of
awakening will be thrilling. You’ll be eager to
rush into this book, to go deeper into the
mysteries and to take your magick to higher
levels. Go gently into Hekate’s Garden. This
awakening is a period of great transformation
that is often accompanied by intense emotions,
new ways of thinking and radical changes in
behavior. If you’re a tarot enthusiast, think of it
as Tower Time when old ways are cast aside to
reveal your deepest truth. Some of the symptoms
of such a spiritual upgrade include feeling you’re
on fire in the heart center, a buzzing of your third
eye, and intense root activation. That’s a polite
way of saying your sex drive may change
radically. Other symptoms can include
physiological ones like headaches and digestive
issues. You’ll experience vivid dreams and sleep
changes. Expect to be awoken in the middle of
the night with your body vibrating. Dreams of
Hekate, Circe and Medea may occur. You may
even have visions of certain plants previously
unknown to you."

If this describes how you are feeling, then know

that Hekate comes when the time is right. You are
ready to do the inner work and heal into your
unique wholeness.
Hekate Queen of Witches
by Rune BEar
 Sex & Death
By Sequoia Belk-Hurst

I lay down on the earth and I died

And as I succumbed to decay
the land opened her verdant arms
and took me into her.
My siblings,
the bugs and the mushrooms and the bacteria,
pulled the flesh from my bones,
caressed the weary skin from my naked rot,
disrobed me to the witness
of the sun and moon and stars.
Grasses, fungi, worms and buzzards
dug their fingers into my ribs,
oak and ivy and redwood wrapped root and vine
around my ankles and wrists, tibia and ulna,
pulling me deeper, deeper,
declaring my body tribute to the soil.
Carrion fed on muscle and marrow,
consuming all I had ever had to offer to anything.
I was adored, viscerally.
The heaving sighs that left my body
with each bite the wild took
expelled the pleasure of my
decadent putrefaction into the air,
the perfume of sex and death permeating the dark,
rich oeuvre of the leaves, dirt,
and other dead and dying things
which rotted in ecstasy around me.
An orgiastic splendour, we returned.
Had She Held Her Torch for Me?
Dani Burlison
1.
My hormones swirled as I walked my rural road to meet a
boy at the edge of an orchard. I remember the sound of
crickets and frogs screeching out into that warm summer
night, a raccoon crunching on crawdads in the steam
along the road. I remember a bat swooping low through
the air, my favorite ancient oak tree looming over me. I
remember how bright the stars glittered against that
moonless night. I remember crossing a threshold from
childhood and into something else as I stood at the
crossroads of pavement and water and soil.
There was a moment in that dark night that seemed
to last an eternity. A moment that my flesh stood up
to meet the air with a shiver. We’ve all been there,
from fear or excitement, that feeling of someone
watching from afar. The feeling that grips us a
second before someone or something reaches out to
brush our skin with a cold outstretched finger. A
surprise, a gasp in our lungs. A rush in our blood.
I had no idea what that chill was from; maybe a
ghost from the rumored haunted house sitting next
to the creek. Maybe a phantom spirit that had crept
down from the foothills to hunt the foxes and boars
that often roamed those places. I wasn’t afraid.
Something was guiding me, watching the road ahead
for danger.
Stepping from the paved road and in between rows of
walnut trees, the acidic smell of their hulls lingered,
thick in the air. The boy wasn’t there. His car wasn’t
parked down the dirt road that bordered the
orchard. He wasn’t waiting, listening to Depeche
Mode, as I had hoped. He must have been running
late, I thought, as a courage suddenly filled me and
propelled me deeper into the trees.
I walked until the road was out of sight, which in
retrospect probably wasn’t far at all but my
perception was skewed; the only light I had was the
Milky Way. I stopped at a crossroads of orchard
rows, felt the dew of the orchard weeds slippery
under my shoes, closed my eyes and lifted my face
and arms up to the sky. It was a rare moment of
safety and freedom in my otherwise chaotic teen life
and I soaked it up, standing tall, reveling in
whatever was there protecting me.
 2.
Metallica’s “Ride the
Lightning” blasted
from the car and
some of the boys
snorted lines in the
backseat of the gold
Volvo and then
passed the bottle of
Southern Comfort
around the circle,
taking big final gulps
of it before bolting
toward the trail.
There was a
lightning storm
forecasted and we
were there to watch
it after crawling into
and out of a cave off
of Highway 36.
The cave wasn’t a
big secret, but it
wasn’t open to the
public, either. Only
the locals around the
Lassen area knew
about it and there
was a trail from a
clearing in the Hekate By Heidi Iverson
ponderosa pines
that led down the volcanic stones to its opening. It was
dangerous, and we were here with our Slayer shirts and
black eyeliner to spark adrenaline rushes to top off the
rushes of booze and speed and whatever else the older
boys had coursing through their skinny bodies.My drunk
boyfriend entered first and I followed close behind,
pointing my flashlight to the walls and ceiling of the cave,
looking for chunks of stone that could crush us or block
our path out. I was claustrophobic, though I would never
show a weakness around these guys. They all liked me
because I was bold, a risk-taker, who often led them into
abandoned houses looking for ghosts, and who drank and
cussed and partied as hard as the rest of them.
As the tunnels in the cavern became smaller, I found
myself belly crawling into icy air, far away from the
group.
Water dripped in a slow steady pace onto my curly hair
as I pushed myself further than I should have gone.
Always seeking just a little bit more of a high from
pressing myself up against danger, I turned my
flashlight off and widened my eyes. In that moment, I
thought I heard a woman whisper an introduction,
both a warning and a reassurance, that crept up my
spine. I remember it feeling like ice at the back of my
neck.
As I turned the flashlight on and backed out of the
tight spot in the cave, the sound of thunder broke
outside. We all scurried toward the cave opening and
emerged to lightning breaking apart the sky over miles
of dark forested hillsides. We howled at the sky, some
of us dancing in circles, raising our arms overhead.
The boys kept passing the bottle until it was empty and
someone smashed it against a boulder as the hail began
pelting us. My boyfriend, the most wasted of the
group, refused to give the car keys to any of the less
fucked up boys in the group. He insisted on driving
and anyone who didn’t get in the car would be left on
the rural mountainside alone. I chose to sit in the
backseat.
As we careened down the highway at what I later heard
was 90 miles per hour, the lightning and thunder
continued its theatrics behind us. The boyfriend
swerved and banged his head to the music pumping out
of the speakers in one moment, and in the next the car
was upside down in the air. I remember a flash (had
Hekate held her torch for me?) and then the car’s roof
hitting a large boulder off the side of the highway. The
car was flung up again and again—three or four times
total—before landing on its side next to a cliff.
There were five of us in the car, some injured badly. I
was able to crawl out through the sun roof, and made
my way to the road. A couple of the boys were
unconscious. I thought my boyfriend was dead. I just
stood there, staring, a voice from somewhere telling me
I had a big choice to make, that I should head down
another road.
 3.
We were on acid at the Santa Monica pier, watching
the waves crawl up and get pulled back, over and over.
A woman walked her two dogs near them, running back
and forth in a game of tag with the sea. The dogs
barked at the sea foam and seemed to jump in circles.
Time and space felt obsolete except the sun was sinking
and the sky was morphing from blue into gold into red
into purple, so I knew it must be nighttime.
At nineteen, I was at a crossroads in my life, one of
what would be many turning points; points of entry
into what could have been other lives, with other
people, with other ways of thinking and being and
living. I never knew which direction to take so I often
just took the direction toward drugs or bad men, and
let life just carry me along.
I watched beachgoers pack their things, objects that
looked like orbs of light or clumps of energy, even
though the LSD was waning after a few hours of
adventuring around my new home of Los Angeles with
these goth friends from back home. We laughed,
marveled at the first specks of stars poking through the
night sky. I remember staying quiet, bouncing ideas
and questions about the world around in my head, too
confused about what next steps to take after I had
experienced a blurry but horrific event a few months
before. I tried not to think about what the person had
done to me and instead let my body lean back into the
sand.
I asked for a sign about staying in Los Angles,
wondering if I’d be safe there alone if everyone kept
leaving me. I heard a dog howl on the beach, women
laughing in the distance, waves crashing against the
pier. Then a gunshot. Screaming. A man yelling
something from down the beach. I jolted up, trying to
make out what was happening in the dimly lit night.
Then sirens.
As the police and paramedics made their way to the
man lying, presumably dead, on the beach, I saw her
near the waves. Her dogs by her side, a torch in her
hand. She was facing me, whispering again, offering a
warning and a sign it was time to go.
By Maryann B. Cole
 From Below and in Three Directions:
Nine fragments of Love for Hekate

by carla joy bergman

direction one: waxing light

“Everything is an exchange for fire, and

fire for everything…”
—Hericlitus

We rode in crescent shaped formation

towards the horizon
Our horses adorned in pink and white
asphodel petals
aromas of lavender hovering on the wind
we recite your cosmic invitation to be
with our
untimely and unspacialized grief
our heartbeats echoing across the
universe

This is us
the wanderlost, making our way
knowing we must travel far and below
suspending all timelines

Blazing our way through our shared

despair
Light holding multiplicities
You ask for nothing more.
Yet in the distance we hear the urgency
in your battle cry
to cease Apollo from folding space
to clear-cut all magic
We are near
 3
We arrived with linked arms as you
tenderly weaved in between our hearts.
Daggers dosed in mint lay firmly in our
mouths
Closing our eyes we wait for your spell
to be spoken

remembrances forged by your magic begin

to rise
through mycelium frequencies of
collective potencies
we hear Bacchus answering your call
“set the magic free”

direction two: full light

“How can you hide from what never goes
away?”
—Heraclitus

4
dear embodied Care Guide
we continue to travel below to keep you
near
entering invocations with you because
we’re trying to live a life
where reciprocity flows
and care animates our every breath.
Levitating our wishes towards Luna
Knowing we cannot chase
mandrake whispers
keep going

So now we walk
deeper into other-worldly lands
leaving behind manifesting and manifested
while embracing manibeing
 5
Opening New Portals of Awe
your spark catches the strings that bind
the liminal into now
Scientist still trying to name this ever-
ending
spacetime between atoms and stardusting
our imaginations
some call it god
And you smile.
6
As more magic realms begin to bloom
sprouting temporal agents on earth
some call themselves influencers
we can tell who's who because snakes
slither around their Auras

We imagine you watching with curiosity,

reflecting to when each Oracle
was chosen by the men who twisted the
Oracles cosmic messages
into Empire’s words to manipulate and
control
But that was about survival.

[I wonder: would you sell your magic for

profit?]

The haunting patriarchal ghosts collude

with
systems of domination feeding
off of the cosplaying Agents attempting
to hoard the light that remains
But your shadows trick them to move away
from the light
casting a veil over their souls.

and then we remember

We remember to close our eyes.
And wait for the
Return.
 direction three: waning light
“The unlike is joined together, and from
differences results the most beautiful
harmony.” — Heraclitus
7

We are the thin skin brigade, trying to

be free
sharers of light in darkness
Exiling towards Medea’s direct line to
our emotions
sending us fragrances of mint and
reminding us to look
to our hearts and move in unison.
Those who remain are terrestrial misfits
roaming through alien lands
ebbing and flowing outside of time and
bending time.
Blessings of renewal await us
our energetic bodies connect at nodes in
the universe

sinking further into darkness

looking for the cascade of shadows
dancing on the cave walls inviting us to
trust
the beauty of the mycelium in patterns
like the constellations cast by Astraeus
in the night sky.

Courage ignites us to fall into looking

with all our senses
feeling the trembling flickers beneath
the shadows
Illuminating many futures.
 9

As light begins to dissolve above, so

below
I felt the warmth from your torch
beckoning me to dive deeper into an
underworld of love

I arrive at the crossroads between Saturn

and Pluto
this is where I fall into dreams
a crow's feather lands in my hand,
I plunge it in the dark matter and begin
to write

Photo by Ava Burlison

 Letting it Die
By Alyssa Rose
It’s so hard to let something die.

I’ve made the decision to stop feeding it,

giving it air and sunlight.
I know that I am right
this thing cannot go on living,
it causes too much pain for all.
But then I see it suffering,
flopping around on the ground gasping for air.
I remember how sweet it could be,
the joy it once gave me
and I want to give it something,
I want to save it.
Like I saved it over and over again before,
feeding it the tiny morsels
that I kept gripped in my palm.
It’s human nature.

I’m a lover,
a mother,
not a killer.
Then She taps me on the shoulder,
reminds me, I’m letting it die.
And I wait.

But I might give it one more breath,

a stroke on the head, a crumb,
to make the dying a little more palatable,
easier for me to watch.
Easier on my heart.
She taps me again.
I have to let it die
or it will continue to hurt me,
make me ache, make my stomach turn,
make me do things I would never do.
So I sit with Her by my side
and wait,
wondering how long
this whole dying thing actually takes.

Over time it gets a little easier

to watch the gasping and flopping.
Hopefully it’s over soon.
 I know the grief will come
and settle over me like a thin gauze.
When a breeze passes and I feel it on my skin
I’ll remember.

When I catch it on something

and it snags as I’m walking out the door,
I’ll remember.

When I breathe in too deep

and it covers my nostrils and mouth,
I’ll remember
how I watched it die.
 By Matthew Izen

‘maiden, mother, crone’ is a four layered reduction linocut on hand torn bright
white 250 gsm cotton rag.
As far as printmaking goes, I’m more of an engineer than an artist. Rather than
choosing a technique or process that helps me achieve an artistic vision, I tend to
create art that helps me practice a particular process or technique.
‘maiden, mother, crone’ was different.
The original sketch for ‘maiden, mother, crone’ was never intended to be a print. It
started off as a simple little drawing exercise and all of a sudden there was a
staircase to nowhere in an archway with a big eye peering out.
Weird...I actually kinda like this.
So I kept going.
More plinths! More archways! I should use moons as reflections in the eyes!
Then I began to realize what was emerging. The triple moons, the diverging paths,
the colors transitioning from morning to night…It’s an ode to Hekate, the triple
goddess, the mother, maiden, and crone.
It was a deeply gratifying realization.
Moments like this are why I love making art, be it printmaking, music, or
otherwise. It reminds me that there’s always something there…some design, some
song, some piece of art ready to be unearthed. All I have to do is keep digging
until it presents itself, until it comes into its own. This print felt especially
archeological in the way it came into being. I couldn't be more pleased with the
whole process.

Most importantly, I have to acknowledge the amazing humans without whom I

would not have known of Hekate. Deepest thanks, Rio, Dani, and Alyssa.
 these little crossroads
by Irisanya Moon

I wanted to be dark and deep, thus somehow more

powerful and wise. My heart wanted to step into the
mysterious shadows and not tremble, to face everything
that cried for my attention. To stand before all that I
feared and know it feared me too.
Enter Hecate, Goddess of Witches, Torchbearer, and
Guardian of Crossroads, She who would stand and stare
at me until I made a decision. Until I took the first step.
She waited and waited for me to arrive at the place
beyond contemplation and before action. Hecate stood
with the torch of truth and surrender, for no matter
what way I chose, it was the way to those sacred
crossroads.
You can’t go everywhere. You need to leave something
behind. There is a path that will not have your story
laid in its texture. There is a path that will not know
how much you agonized over the choosing. There is a
path that has been right before you, one that will give
you exactly what you need, even if you never said it
aloud.
Dramatic crossroads are hard to miss. Do I stay in this
marriage or not? Do I take back my power? Do I tell the
truth? Do I stand up for myself or another despite how
that one moment could (and did) crumble so many
others?
There are no little crossroads. There are no insignificant
decisions. Each builds upon the next, feeds the energy of
what is becoming and what is already on its way because
this magick of life is not a direction; it is arrival after
arrival. It is standing before the godds when nothing
else is listening. When nothing else knows.
I meet Hecate in the moments I don’t know what to do. I
call to her, I feed her altar with malachite, obsidian,
and hematite. I sit at her feet and reflect on my steps,
taken and not taken yet. I ask her for clarity, but not
for answers. I ask her to light the way to the truth I
need to find or need to claim. She is a guide, not a
teacher. And I understand this. And She trusts me.
I call to Hecate when I feel untethered in my life. When
it is clear in my bones, I don’t know where or who I am,
but I am somehow clear I am going somewhere else. I am
becoming something else. I am birthing something else.
In the liminal spaces where I can’t quite find my footing
or a handhold to climb my way over, I ask Her for the
quiet sense of knowing to curl up at my feet and remind
me that I have done this all before. I have been in the
middle of my own story and uncovering since birth, and
I will find myself again.
I dance with Hecate when I am so ready to move on that
I can’t help but run. Those not-so-little crossroads
where I just want to go anywhere else but where I am
because I am tired and sore and ready and rapid. Those
days when I can’t sleep because I am ready to grab all
the torches and set out on a search party for the self I
can smell in the air. For the wisdom that is just beyond
my reach because I hadn’t stood up for it yet.
I make room for Hecate on the darkest nights, the ones
that leave me feeling hungry and empty. I set a place at
the crossroads, offering bread and meat alongside my
doubt and resistance. A hearty, heavy meal, one for
godds who can digest the complexity of unknowing and
who wait for those plates in the places they stand.
Hecate is the godd of the greatest challenge: stepping up
for what is true and right for you, no matter what
anyone else says or believes. The gift of the Torchbearer
and Guardian of Crossroads is that there will be light to
guide the way. It might take a few minutes or years to
adjust your eyes and see what has been laid out for you.
While She offers no answers, She stays by your side
anyway.
sacred space
by rune bear
 Amphiprosopos

By Aix Astrodia

Ancient keeper of the dark threshold spinning threads of fate

Cosmic girt of fiery serpents encompassing the night
Light rising and falling time maker innate
Source of souls strikes with light
Guarding the vestibule of slate
So swift and bright
Terrifying
κα
Sovereign
Protector of nature
Healer of land, sea, and sky
Unconquered worldwide shaker
Energizing the one hundred handed decries
Our divine nourisher of life wild roaring creatrix
Throwing down gates with a glimpse of the crossroads in eye
 Hecate Invocation
By Gretchen Sechrist Kehan

I call in Hekate.
I call in the stewards of this land.
I call in protection.
I call in Hecate.
I call in the stewards of this land.
I call in protection.
I call in Heckate.
I call in the stewards of this land.
I call in protection.
May all living beings be safe.
May all living beings be protected.
May all living beings be secure.
And so it is.
And so it is.
And so it is.

*Feel free to use your own grounding exercise,

practice, or prayer before invoking
and calling in Hecate.
**Recite the invocation aloud as you create
a circle of protection using salt and /or herbs.
May be used anytime you desire protection,
clearing, or support for your own
internal journey.
 Hecate by Laura O’neal

“The dog is the animal most commonly

associated with Hecate, and She was
sometimes addressed as the 'Black she
dog'. Black dogs were once sacrificed to
Her in purification rituals, and Hecate
could manifest as a dog. The sound of
barking dogs is the first sign of Her
approach in Greek and Roman literature”
-Excerpt from SacredWicca
Hekate, The Boundless One
By Stephen Pocock

Hekate. “Hekate.” It’s an epithet - “Far Reaching

One.” It’s just the one we’ve all come (over the
millennia) to use. She has hundreds of others. For
me she is The Boundless One, Azostos (literally
‘ungirt’) - as this I think gets closer to how we
relate to her as witches.

For starters, I want to say that I am NOT a Hekate-

as-mother-maiden-crone person, that construct is
a later layer in witchcraft that are put on other
goddesses. An argument can be made for ascribing
that due to her relational aspect to Selene and the
moon, but that’s about it. As a triple-headed one
(Trikaranos), I sense this as part of her liminality -
her place at the crossroads (Enodia), specifically
the three roads (Trioditis) - where she looks
before, behind and is in-between. All depictions of
Hekate in antiquity, though they are three-formed,
are ‘young.’

As a Titan, She is liminality, not just of liminality,

just as Helios is not a God of the sun, but is the
Sun God, the Sun itself. She is not just the ruler of
doorways, she is the door. She is the gate. Greek
houses had her shrine at the doorway. She is that
moment between life and death, un-breathing and
birth. A flame up and a flame down from her two
torches. The one pointing down - chthonic,
underworld guide, of the dead, the old gods,
folklore, witchcraft; the one posting up -
philosophy, ceremonial, celestial, Soteira (“savior”).
When we cast a circle, finishing with above and
below, we are between the worlds, we are with
Hekate in the light of her torches.
In a very interesting course taught by Jack Grayle
(“PGM Praxis: 50 Rites for 50 Nights,” offered by the
Blackthorne School. This course is a great follow up
to Jack’s other class, "Hail Hekate: Walking the
Forked Path”), Grayle guides students through
various spells of the PGM (Greek Magical Papyri - see
note below), one of which is an initiation to Typhon.
Typhon is a chthonic deity, and not a particularly
pleasant one. Although he defends the chariot of the
Sun as it traverses the Duat (underworld), he is
known as “the breaker of families.” I did not want to
bring that energy into my home. I followed earlier
advice Grayle had given and hacked the spell using
‘standard PGM technology.’ PGM spell technology
was already a compilation of hacks and “cut and
paste” moves by Egyptian sorcerer(s) of antiquity
anyway, so I gave
it a go.

I offer it here as an artifact, an example of blending

personal praxis with sorcerous technology of late
antiquity.
STEPHEN’S HEKATE INITIATION
(On a Monday, during the lunar hour, or before the dark
moon, or whenever you can justify this initiation. Come
proper and prepare a place. Offerings would be smart, such
as myrrh. Prepare with strophalos chanting - if you have
one, or simple breathing. If you have an Iynx consecrated to
your wheel, send it forth with the MASKELLI formula to
summon Hekate).

O great and lovely Hekate, Titan of Earth, Sea and Sky,

Feared and revered by Gods and Man, Oh Queen
THAN THANA THANATHA ANATH ANATHANA
O Light-bringer, torch-bearer, keeper of the key, Night
walker,
Clad in Serpent Tresses, Star Walker, Saffron cloaked,
Goddess of the three roads, you who walk between all and
who are the between
ARARACHARARA EPHTHISIKERE
I am he who bears the horns of the stag,
Cauldron borne on Scythian steppes.
Like you I walk through worlds beneath the mounds, chthonic
master
An escorter to the next world.
Am I not the witch father and so your consort in this and
other tasks?
I am he who is reviled by many, called demon and devourer,
And these I may yet be to my enemies and thine.
I come to you as a walker from the woods,
master of the wild and untamed places,
and like you am bound by no place;
So welcome me and lift me from the heath onto the very
roads you tread.
ABLANATHANALBA BAUBARABAS SABARABAUBA
Grant to me the power of craft and cunning folk,
The rising self and traveling form
And when I call upon spirits great and small
that they do come and heed my call.
AZOSTOS you are so may I be.
MOUMILLON BIOMBILLON AKTIOPHI ERESHKIGAL
NEBOUTOSOUALETH PHROUREXIA THERMIDOKHE BAREO NE
EUPHORBA PHORBA PHORBOREOU BRIMO AZZIEBA PHORBA
PHORBOR PHORBOR BORBORPHA ERPHOR PHORBAIO
PHORBOR PHORBOR BOROPH PHORPHOR BORPHORBOR

(Wait for the Black Dog to come. When she has breathed into
your lungs, extoll her with gratitude in your customary way)
Notes:
“Come proper” refers to a personal purification. Typical
examples are abstinence from alcohol, meat or any food at
all, and/or sex. Also cleansing, anointing with oils, asperging,
etc. are fine. It’s up to the witch. Also consecrate your
working area in a suitable way.

Strophalos here refers to not just the design, but a disc on 2

strings that one can whirl by flexing the strings (there are
modern spinning disc toys). The term is conflated with the
Iynx, originally a wryneck bird. The whirring of the disc
sounded like the call of the wryneck. In later practice they
were consecrated to the disc and used as an “angelos” or
messenger to summon Hekate (an interesting short article by
the estimable Sorita d’Este -
https://www.patheos.com/blogs/adamantinemuse/2020/08/h
ekates-wheel-the-iynx-wheel/).

The MASKELLI formula is common to many spells in the PGM.

It is a spell of compulsion, here used to announce and ask
the Iynx familiar to summon Hekate. The actual spell is
MASKELLI MASKELLO PHNOUNKENTEBAOTH OREOBAZAGRA
REXICCHTHON HIPPOCHTHON PYREPEGANYX. For an excellent
breakdown of this spell, https://via-serpentis.com/pgm-
hermetic-magic/2020/5/1/maskelli-maskello. (this is an
excellent website)

Magical voices - in the PGM there are long strings of “vox

magicae” - a number of which are common to the spells that
revolve around Hekate. THAN THANA THANATHA are found in
a spell that is a prayer to Selene and I include it to bring in
that aspect of Hekate. The use of palindromes, Grayle
suggests, are to capture the attention of the deity, and I
have used them liberally in this initiation.

ABLANATHALBA is used in a huge number of spells and is

perhaps part of an appeal to Abraxas, but is included to add
a little persuasive oomph and solar energy. The long string at
the end contain what is thought to be a “true name” of
Hekate. It is actually longer includes HA HA and IOOOOU,
which Grayle suggests, when spoken in such a way, mimic the
bark and howling of a great dog.
The middle section, beginning with, “I am he who bears the
horns of the stag…” is a piece of PGM tech that Grayle calls,
“assuming the God Face.” The witch/magician/sorcerer
would elevate themselves to the level of a deity in order to
show to the deity being invoked that they were worthy of
attention. Of course the deity is not fooled into believing
that one is actually that other godd, but the effort is made
to prove both willingness and worthiness.

I work very closely with the Horned One (whom I call

Cernunnos), his role as psychopomp and having the liminal
lands as his domain made the choice an easy one. When I
did this rite I had his blessing and indeed felt his presence
with me (not quite in aspect, but close).

I performed this initiation and got some serious contact

back from Hekate as kyôn melaina, the Black Dog, loping
around me and jumping into my skin, which wasn’t
completely comfortable. It was prickly, and I carried the
sensation in my hands and arms for several hours, there was
a ringing in my ears, as well as being incredibly thirsty.

Hans Dieter Betz (ed). The Greek Magical Papyri in

Translation: Including the Demotic Spells (Chicago, IL:
University of Chicago Press, 1992).
The Blackthorne School hosts Jack Grayle’s classes:
https://www.theblackthorneschool.com
Sacrifice to Hekate
by Brian Henderson
Model Jaynee Gundlach
 A Hymn to Hecate
By Gretchen Sechrist
Kehan

To She who stands

ready at the threshold
of change,
I honor and see you.
I welcome in the
darkness
and the mystery
that you bring.
I am held by the light
of understanding
that you illuminate
in the darkness.
As I may feel unsteady,
uncertain, and unable
to take the next step,
I trust in the power
of your guardianship.
I ask for
steadfastness,
protection,
and clarity
as I allow
the veils of the
mysteries
to hold, guide, and
lead me.
To She who sees
and holds me
at the threshold
of change,
I welcome you,
I witness you,
I thank you.
wings inside of wings
kat heatherington

dark wings rustle inside my shoulders.

i breathe in the shadow,
unable, finally, to look away from it,
or pull from its embrace.
the sanctuary isn't dark enough
to hide me from myself, except
for the veiled mysteries
and riddles whose keys i have not found.
feathers shift dry & dark inside my shoulders,
send soft night dust scattering down my spine.
the dark beak opens to breathe me in.
the dark beak opens into mystery, silence,
the night sky free of clouds, lined with stars,
their light too far away to matter.
the dark beak opens on cavernous blackness,
on full thick darkness, and on emptiness,
on everything and nothing.

i am inside the wings inside of me.

with a splash, the shadow rises.

dark feathers rustle with every breath.
the bronze-bladed axe of an ancient goddess
whistles far overhead, descending from a
copper moon
whose arc i can neither see, nor describe.

ripened grain is not the only answer

that grows deep in the earth.
below the seed lurk mysteries uncounted.

one cello shivers away the silence,

the bridge between bass and alto,
the river that will carry me out of here
if i but find the source.

there are wings inside the wings inside of me.

 Honoring Hecate – A Ritual at the Crossroads
by Phoenix LeFae

The ancient Greeks had a practice connected to the great

Goddess Hecate that they called Deipnon. What is
interesting about this word is translated into English the
word is dinner. With such a mundane word describing this
sacred event, we can see how Hecate was connected to
daily, and even mundane, practices. This is what makes
Hecate so interesting from an ancient worshippers’
perspective.

Hecate was an important deity to ancient Greek culture,

but there are very few shrines or sacred sites connected to
her. She was a Goddess of the liminal spaces. The places
that are between one thing and another. For example,
crossing the threshold was, and is, a sacred act connected
to Hecate.

On the new moon, each month, the dinner meal was done in
honor of the restless dead and as a guardian of the dead,
Hecate.

The Deipnon ritual was performed in three parts. A meal

was set out at a crossroads for Hecate. A sacrifice was
given to honor Hecate. And finally, the house and all
members of the household were purified.

You don’t have to be an ancient Greek to perform a

Deipnon. Here is a modern Witch’s Deipnon.

For this ritual you will need the following:

-Dinner – pre-prepared, ideally this is an additional plate

for the meal that you ate for dinner that night.

-A plate that you are willing to leave at the crossroad –

biodegradable and/or disposable is fine.

-A sacrifice – your sacrifice should not be something that

you kill. Rather a sacrifice is a gift that you offer to the
Goddess that holds meaning for you. Your sacrifice should
be biodegradable.

-Dried purification herbs for burning – rosemary or cedar

are ideal.
Before you start the process take a cleansing bath or
shower. Scrub off the day and allow yourself to begin the
shift into sacred space. Dress in ritual finery or clothes
that are loose and comfortable. Anoint yourself in oils or
perfumes that remind you that you’re a magickal being.

Prepare your evening meal. As you cook (or order food),

sing songs, chants, or just speak your adoration to Hecate.
When you are finished serve up yourself, anyone else
eating with you, and make a plate for Hecate. You and
your group sit down to eat first and when you are finished
take Hecate’s plate and your sacrifice out to a crossroads.

*Bonus points if you create an elaborate altar on your

kitchen table for Hecate.

At the crossroads, set her plate down and speak out loud
your gratitude and adoration to Hecate. This is not the
time to ask for favors or gifts, this is the time to express
your devotion.

Make your sacrifice and

explain why this offering is
for her and what it means to
you.

When you return home burn

your purifying herbs and
use the smoke to cleanse
your home and yourself.
Take time with this process,
allowing the smoke to clear
out negative or stuck
energy in your home.

End the ritual with the

following:

Hail Hecate!
Contributors:
Dani Burlison (she/her) is a Gen X writer and teacher who
lives with two cats and a night-visiting-fox in a witch hut in
the middle of a drought-stricken redwood forest in Northern
California. More at www.daniburlison.com
Alyssa Rose (she/her) is an eclectic Pleasure Witch,
Reclaiming Priestess, Mother and Magic-Maker from
Northern California living on unceded Pomo and Coast
Miwok land. Alyssa is a forever-seeker of pleasure, growth,
knowledge and creating intersectional, inclusive spaces to
learn and expand. www.alyssarosemagic.bigcartel.com
*
Aix Astrodia (they) is a person of European descent living
on occupied Southern Tiwa lands in Albuquerque. They are
a non-binary queer witch and devotee of Hekate and Na
Mórrígan. Their magic practice is rooted in the Hellenic and
Irish traditions of their ancestors. Aix Astrodia is a
collaborator at the Sanctuary of Hekate Potnia Theron.
Ava Burlison (she/her) is a Californian, Scorpio and
creative living in Brooklyn, NY.
Brian Henderson (he/him) is photographic artist based in
Santa Rosa, California. Brian has always been interested in
the dark and macbre, the hidden and haunted.
carla joy bergman dabbles with poetry, writing, and
storytelling, often opening realms of autonomy, reciprocity,
art, creativity, and challenging empire. carla aims to keep
the embers burning with and for the youth and the coming
generations. She currently lives in Vancouver,British
Columbia, on the lands of the xwməθkwəym (Musqueam),
S k w x w ú 7 m e s h ( S q u a m i s h ) , a n d S e l̓ í l̓ w i t u l h ( T s l e i l - W a u t u t h )
Nations with her kids and partner. www.joyfulcarla.com
Cyndi Brannen, PhD, is a psychologist, author and
teacher. She teaches and writes from the crossroads of
psychology, spirituality and traditional wisdom, merging
ancient knowledge with modern practices. Her work explores
the journey through darkness to wholeness using the
archetypes of the witch and Hekate.
www.keepingherkeys.com
Gretchen Sechrist Kehan (she/her) Transformational,
Intuitive Guide for Women and Sacred Space Holder.
Gretchen is dedicated to the unveiling of mysteries,
recognizing the gifts of grief, and honoring the inner journey
and descent necessary to transform ourselves in this
shifting world. As a Guide and Soul Midwife, she facilitates
deep shifts and understanding to support the activation and
healing necessary to lead a soul-led life and embody the
sacred in everyday life. www.daughtersrising.net
Irisanya Moon (she/they) is an author, witch, poet, ritualist,
and international teacher of witchcraft and heart magick.
www.irisanyamoon.com
Kat Heatherington is a queer ecofeminist poet, artist,
pagan, intentional community dweller, and organic
gardener. She has one book, available at Echobird Press,
http://echobirdpress.com. Her work can also be read at
https://patreon.com/yarrowkat, or on instagram
@sometimesaparticle.
Laura O’Neil is a Sonoma County artist dabbling in comic
strip creation. She enjoys painting watercolors of
landscapes and animals, especially pets and mountains.
Her first comic strip is being published in Made Local
magazine in November/December of 2023.
Matthew Izen (they/he) is a neuro/queer parent, partner
and printmaker living in Sonoma County. When not covered
in ink. they can be found playing board games with their
family or guitar with their band, Polar Bears.
Maryann B. Cole is an interdisciplinary, lifelong artist with
a focus on collage, fiber, and illustration. She has created
three functional tarot decks, reading the elusive from time
to time. A frequent collaborator, she can be reached
@toocutesyforme on instagram for commissions, customs,
and conversations.
Phoenix LeFae (she/her) is an initiate in the Reclaiming
Tradition of Witchcraft, the Avalon Druid Order, and
Gardnerian Wicca. Phoenix has written several books
including What Is Remembered Lives, A Witch’s Guide to
Creating and Performing Rituals, Witches, Heretics, and
Warrior Women and more. She is a professional Witch and
the owner of the esoteric Goddess shop, Milk & Honey,
www.Milk-and-Honey.com
Rune Bear (she/her) is a mother, artist, witch, and
Reclaiming Priestess. Her life is a beautiful blend of magic
and mysticism, blessed and deeply influenced by her
devotion to Goddess Hekate. Her paintings are a method of
integration, as she processes her spiritual journey and the
intricate and interconnected realms of creativity,
spirituality, and family.
Sequoia Belk-Hurst (they/them) is a queer, nonbinary
witch of European decent, currently living in the Pacific
Northwest of Turtle Island. They keep an altar to Hecate,
wo reminds them daily of the sensuous crossroads that is
death, decay and regeneration.
Stephen Pocock is an initiated witch and teacher in the
Reclaiming Tradition. Stephen works in communion with
Hekate, Cernunnos, and other less-named spirits of land
and time. Stephen feeds his ecstatic, spirit-fed practice
with deep dives into traditional British witchcrafts and
sorcerous practices of late antiquity. Stephen lives in
Huichin (Oakland), the unceded land of the Chechenyo-
speaking Lisjan (Ohlone).