🌎✨ Witchcraft Without Borders (But With Respect)

How to Practice in the U.S. Without Appropriating—And Why It Matters

Hey there, sacred sassafras.

So you're a witch in the U.S.—surrounded by highways, tiny home reality shows, and colonized land—and you feel pulled to the old gods. Maybe it’s Brigid or Odin. Maybe The Cailleach won’t leave you alone in your dreams (relatable, but I also might just miss the snow a little bit...). You want to live your magic fully, but you also don’t want to accidentally crash into someone else’s culture on your broomstick ride.

That, my darling, is what we call being a respectful witch in a colonized country.

Let’s break it down: how to honor your ancestors, practice powerful magic, and still be a decent human who doesn’t appropriate from Indigenous, Black, or colonized cultures. All while making your craft yours.

✨ Ancestry, Lineage & the "Is This Mine?" Question

Here’s the truth: your magic is stronger when it’s rooted in who you are. If you come from Celtic or Norse heritage, you’ve got a rich tapestry of myth, ritual, and beautifully weird folk traditions just waiting to be remembered (but even then, leave room for native voices and learn the difference between ancestry and ethnicity but more on that on another day).

And listen—bloodline is one thing, but spiritual lineage is also real. Sometimes a deity or tradition touches your soul because a spiritual ancestor passed it down, or a mentor offered it up with care. That’s called being invited in, not taking without permission.

But the second you start slapping together symbols from religions you don’t belong to, selling sacred rituals in your Etsy shop, or calling everything "smudging" when you’re not Native (guilty- but once you know better, you can do better) ? Yeah, that’s not it.

Rule of thumb: If it wasn’t given, don’t take it. If it’s closed, don’t open it. If you wouldn’t explain it to an elder from that tradition without cringing, maybe don’t. (But for real guys- CALL ME OUT too. That's how we all grow. Feel free to comment, call, or email if you see anything that needs corrected, cancelled, or deleted. We've all made mistakes on the internet and in life but that doesn't mean we can't own up to them and grow.)

🌍 Practicing on Stolen Land: What That Means

The U.S. is built on stolen land. Yes, even your cozy witch cottage. California? Kumeyaay land. Arizona? O’odham, Diné, Apache land. New Mexico? Pueblo territory. Texas? Comanche, Caddo, Karankawa, and more.

If you are not Indigenous, you are practicing your craft on land that remembers violence, displacement, and colonization. And that means you have a responsibility.

Start here:

• Learn whose land you’re on. (native-land.ca is a great place to start)

• Acknowledge it in your rituals. Literally say, “I honor the ___ people, whose land I stand on.”

• Don’t treat land spirits like background extras. Treat them like the original keepers of the vibe.

• Support Native communities where you live—with money, amplification, and action, not just words.
  

You’re not here to play spirit tourist. You’re here to live in right relationship.

🕊️ Animism, House Spirits & Sacred Landscapes

Your pagan ancestors didn’t download their rituals from Pinterest. They honored what was around them: the land, the rivers, the seasons. A snowstorm was a spirit. A house and family had their own personal guardians. The gods were in the hills, the hearth, the goats. They weren’t trying to recreate Greek myths in a swamp.

So here’s your permission slip to stop copy-pasting rituals from books set in the British Isles and start adapting based on where you actually live. It might be hard to accept at first but the truth is, practices that are rooted in ancient places are in fact rooted to that place.

If you live in the desert, your Imbolc won’t look like Ireland’s spring. That’s not disrespectful—that’s authentic. The Tuatha Dé Danann are connected to springs, forests, and sacred groves and not likely to be found in the Mojave. So what's to be done? Focus on the essence of your ancestral deities, not just their traditional symbols, and invite them to meet you in your current environment (although traditionally, the Kindly Ones are not to be bothered so I wouldn't recommend inviting them in particular, but a little water left on your doorstep rather than cream might not be the worst thing) . Adaptation, done with reverence and respect, allows your spiritual practice to stay rooted in your lineage while living in right relationship with the land and its original caretakers.

🤔 Adaptation vs. Appropriation (Let’s Make This Crystal Clear)

Appropriation is when you use sacred practices from a culture you don’t belong to without understanding, context, or permission—especially if it’s a marginalized culture.

Adaptation is when you respectfully modify your own ancestral practice to suit your life and land. That may also mean learning more about your own ancestral practices as well and figure out WHY they did the things they did and worshipped the deities they worshipped and if they still make sense in your life now.

Examples:

It was me. I was the monster this entire time!

• ✗ Burning white sage and calling it "smudging" when you're not Indigenous = appropriation (and I cannot emphasize how much I am making my own self cringe as I type this, who here among us hasn't smudged? This is a callout to me too.)

• ✓ Burning rosemary or cedar from your ancestral or local traditions = adaptation
  

• ✗ Making dreamcatchers because they're cute = appropriation

• ✓ Hanging a Brigid’s cross, Thor’s hammer, or protective charm from your lineage = adaptation
  

Adaptation says: I respect the roots AND the land I live on now. Appropriation says: I’ll take what I want regardless of who it harms.

See the difference? Intent matters, but impact matters more.

📍 Practicing in Place: Examples by Region

California Witches: Acknowledge Kumeyaay or Tongva lands. Honor your Celtic sea god at the Pacific. Burn mugwort or rosemary. Leave water for land spirits. Learn about the local ecosystems and reflect on how your deities and divine might be reflected in the flora and fauna where you live. How could your practice help the land grow and harmonize rather than forcing what isn't natural for the sake of a tradition that wasn't traditional where you live?

Arizona Witches: It's O'odham, Diné, and Apache land. The desert sun can still honor a Norse sun deity or Brigid’s sacred fire—just adapt the symbols. Maybe a solar altar with cactus flowers. Leave offerings of water (seriously).

New Mexico Witches: Pueblo and Apache lands. Use the wide skies and mesas in your rituals. Honor your deities in partnership with the land’s personality. Think wind, adobe, and dry herbs.

Texas Witches: From Comanche to Karankawa lands, there’s deep history here. Storm magic? Hello, Thor. Just don’t call on spirits that aren’t yours. Learn about the plants native to your area. Seek local stories.

⚡️ Be the Witch Who Does Better

• Learn before you light up that sacred herb.

• Adapt your rituals to your local landscape.

• Acknowledge the land, the people, the history.

• Center Indigenous and native voices (this goes for European spiritual practices too!). Boost their books, businesses, and teachings (with permission).

• Know that you don’t need to wear someone else’s culture to be powerful.
  

Your ancestors? They were pragmatic. They did what worked, with what they had, where they were. You can too.

The gods don’t need you to cosplay a 6th-century druid (although there's nothing wrong with donning the robe on special occasions). They need you to show up honestly, humbly, and wholeheartedly.

And that, darling, is real magic.

Blessed be, and Stay Weird.

PS: So what's the deal with smudging?

• Cultural appropriation happens when non-Native people take the word smudging and the ceremonial use of sacred herbs (especially white sage and Palo Santo) and use them casually, often for profit, without understanding or respecting the cultural context or significance. What most people think of when they say “smudging” is specifically tied to Indigenous North American ceremonial practices, particularly among tribes like the Lakota, Navajo, and Anishinaabe. In those traditions, smudging is a sacred, complex spiritual practice, not just about waving burning sage around. It involves prayers, songs, protocols, and often specific roles in the community (like elders or medicine people) leading it.
  

• White sage and Palo Santo have been overharvested, partly due to this trendy commercialized use, threatening their survival and harming ecosystems and Indigenous access.
  

If you’re not Indigenous, what can you do?

You can still do ritual smoke cleansing—but it’s more respectful to:

• Use the phrase “smoke cleansing” or “ritual smoke” instead of “smudging.”

• Use herbs from your own heritage or local environment—such as rosemary, lavender, mugwort, pine, juniper, or even garden sage.

• Create your own rituals that honor your own lineage, beliefs, and intentions.

• Support Indigenous sellers if you do choose to purchase white sage or other sacred herbs—though ideally, leave them for those traditions.