My introduction to magick, to the awe-inspiring beauty of nature, was not in the countryside, the mountains or by a seashore; it was in the Bronx, NY. It was there that I collected rocks from Pelham Bay Park, Orchard Beach, and the schoolyard, filling my pockets with them for grounding, and drawing them in a circle around my body, cross-legged on the floor, as a wall of protection. It was there that I marveled at the flecks of grey concrete in the off-white sidewalk, seeing it as a chocolate chip cookie, making my mouth water for snack time as I walked to P.S. 71. It was there that I learned the moon's name and spoke to it at length every month when she was at her fullest. It was there that I learned to befriend animals of all species; there where my PopPop conducted a funeral for a dead baby bird we came across on our walk through Morris Park and I learned that life and death are merely cycles, nothing to fear or to hate but to confront and accept. I learned to appreciate and collect dirty pennies, leaves and acorns in the road, and I discovered the miracle of shells of beetles who outgrew their skin that looked like ancient and miraculous skeletons. I saw beauty in chunks of concrete, brick and string, and learned to build sacred spaces with it. Led by my trash queen great Aunt Florrie, I appreciated the power and beauty potential in the refuse of others; I learned to read the litter in the street, the garbage Oracle, before cleaning it up. I learned that there is nothing more electric or transformative as hip hop music, and that the rumbles and screeches of the 6 train is nothing short of meditative. The sights, smells, sounds and sensations surrounding me in the Bronx infused my every breath with magick and wonder.
I was born in that precious borough of New York and lived there until my family moved us upstate when I was 10. Since I've lived in other places with more greenery, mountains and rivers - upstate NY and now Asheville, NC - many folks have claimed that what sets my current environment apart from the Bronx is the experience of nature. When they see the Bronx, they see litter-filled streets, exhaust fumes, vast expanses of concrete and a considerable lack in tree growth and star visibility. And they'd be right. The mistake they make, however, is failing to see these features of my childhood environment as "nature." Of course, trash and train fumes aren't exactly eco-friendly, nor are they ideal for our physical health. But they are of the Earth. I feel most in touch with nature in the city. They envelop a rich and vibrant community and infuse every smell, hum and image with Big Bronx Energy. They ground, cleanse, motivate and nourish me because, just like in every other natural environment, they embody the Five Elements (Earth, air, fire, water and spirit), energies that all witches work with, which creates nourishment and balance for all that inhabit the area.
In Wicca and witchcraft, the correspondences for each of these elements, the precious elements we work with and manipulate to work in our favor, often do not include things you can find in an urban environment or things that nature-lovers deem as "dirty" or "ugly." However, particularly for folks with physical limitations like me, city nature is so much more accessible than hiking trails and rocky-floored rivers. And that is pretty beautiful to me.
As a Bronx nature enthusiast, and as someone whose magickal flame was ignited by the divine energies of that place, I felt inspired to come up with a list of magickal correspondences of the Bronx I personally associate with the different elements, and perhaps it can inspire my city witches and sick witches alike.
Earth: The Earth element is associated with grounding, centering, protection, abundance, the material world, and security.
My original dirt and grass is concrete. In my opinion, concrete sidewalks are just as grounding and nourishing as earthing (minus the going barefoot part because this is still the city). Feeling my feet pound against pavement as I walk, the thumping against my shoes and the vibrating up my body, is the high-impact grounding I desperately need as someone who experiences dissociation on the daily. Most of all, there is nothing more powerful to me than actually sitting on concrete. Sure, NYC sidewalks can be pretty sketchy and gross, but it's pretty easy to pick a relatively clean patch of pavement to pop a squat on for awhile. As a disabled person who gets tired easily, and in a city without much public seating options, I'm very fond of the Sidewalk Seat.
With grounding on dirt or by trees, it's a common practice for witches to imagine yourself dropping into the Earth and putting roots down as you breathe. When I'm sitting on the sidewalk, though, the pavement feels so electric with heat and energy from the city stored throughout the day that it feels more like absorbing the energy of a crystal that is meant to animate you - to infuse you with energy, heart flutters and peace.
Another great Earth element tool I appreciate in the city often is the many rats in the subway. Rats are one of my animal guides and I've owned many myself, so I am always the only one in a crowd who reacts to the appearance of a rat scampering on the subway tracks with an "aw." Whenever I'm waiting for a train, actually, I scan the tracks endlessly for the little critters and I usually find at least one. Rats in general, but especially tough NYC rats, are such scrappy, tough little individuals and I love moments when I can spot them innovating, avoiding danger and just generally hustling and bustling around the station, unbothered by jumpy passersby. The parallel between subway rats and myself (and my own eternal hustle to simply survive when it seems impossible) is not lost on me.
Of course, I'm also afraid of these rats, a healthy reminder that Mother Earth can create and be beautiful, but can also destroy and be dangerous. I shudder just remembering the time a city rat ran across my feet as I walked down a block in Brooklyn one night. Regardless of their form, subway rats teach me daily lessons about survival, human overpopulation and its effects on the natural environment, and the beauty in diversity of Earth's creatures. Subway rats often look *rough,* but not all nature is conventionally beautiful!
Air: The air element is associated with creativity, wisdom, intuition, the breath, purification, and the mind.
Riding the 6 train from Pelham Bay to Manhattan was my first introduction to meditation. Sitting on the train, hearing and feeling its rumbling and rocking, watching the Bronx as it goes by - it's the most relaxing experience I've ever had to this day. It's so easy to find and drop into the breath while being rocked by the train, looking out the window and letting the world outside go out of focus as the mind is truly cleared and in flow. I often fall asleep on the train because of this, but I'm also blessed with so many revelations on it too, inspiring my decisions around family and college and helping me reach major breakthroughs about myself. I can find my center and the stillness within myself. Whenever I step off the 6, I feel cleansed, more at ease and with a better understanding of who I am and where I'm going.
In the most literal sense, smelling the sage and incense street vendors burn in the Bronx and Manhattan is another way I love to connect with the element of air in the city. There is nothing like the smell of incense to make me pause and soak in the temple-like energies I conjure in my own rituals. It makes me feel so spiritual and grateful for the street vendor who took it upon themselves to cleanse the area with sacred smoke. Last week, I was at an anti-Trump rally in Union Square Park and I noticed the smell of white sage completely filled the air. As I moved on down the street, I found a huge dish of flaming white sage bundles emitting huge plumes of smoke at a street vendor's feet, blown by the wind in the direction of the protest, and I felt blessed to have someone looking out for the energies of the urban space, cleansing all of us of the pain and doubt that might hold us back in constantly fighting against tyranny.
Fire: The fire element is associated with action, creation, destruction, passion, motivation, inspiration, will, and determination.
Contrary to popular opinion, the sound of a traffic jam in downtown Manhattan, that moment where everyone honking at one another at once reaches a fever pitch, is like music to my ears. It reminds me a lot of the way I use bells in my practice to raise energy and cleanse my body and space. I feel invigorated walking down the street past the disgruntled folks in rush hour, and it's difficult for me to explain the feeling in words beyond that. It's just very exciting and makes me feel alive. And its abrupt cacophony clears my mind immediately.
Another representation of the element fire that seems ever-present in the city is the smell of weed. As a former smoker, the rich aroma of weed relaxes me and serves as a reminder of transformation - the transformation of a stressed mind into a high(er) mind; the transformation of bud to smoke with the help of a lighter's flame. Everything in this life is temporary and everything can and will change form. This is a beautiful reminder for me to have, particularly during times of stress, doubt and major transitions.
Water: The element of water is associated with cleansing, emotion, communication, flow, and peace.
Growing up, my PopPop and great aunt Florrie would always say that Bronx water was the best water. And wow, were they right. Besides the Bronx, I've lived in upstate NY, Bronxville, Brooklyn and North Carolina. And no tap water compares to that of the Bronx. I currently live in Asheville, NC, and our tap water is so high in mineral content that it doesn't hydrate us properly and it's also frequently contaminated with lead and other toxins due to frequent construction to accommodate the rapid expansion of the neighborhood. Bronx tap water tastes so good and hydrates me perfectly, something I'm so grateful for whenever I get my hands on a glass of it when I'm visiting (like last week). As I gulp it down, I imagine my entire body being cleansed, like a blue-white light is slowly making its way down my esophagus and slowly cleansing all parts of my body as it makes its way down. From a young age, I was encouraged to drink Bronx water slowly, with intention and feel it nourish me as it went down, fresh and flavorless and clean. It was such a meditative experience that it helped me stay motivated to keep myself hydrated as a kid. Now that I've had tap water from many other parts of the country (and the world), I will never take Bronx water and its cleansing, ritualistic qualities for granted ever again.
In a less literal sense and a more magickal sense, one of my favorite ways to connect with the water element is through the collection of trash due to the sense of flow it inspires in me. Rocks, expired metro cards and candy wrappers all serve as amazing inspiration for me in craft projects and collages. My great aunt Florrie was a trash witch, diligently collecting refuse from trash cans, streets and empty lots for her collections or to repurpose the objects she found. There was such an artfulness in how she did this that I, as a young child, took things to the next level by collecting pieces with art projects in mind. To this day, I still build altars dedicated to spirits of place l, dedicated to NYC with the bits and bobs I find on my journey, both natural and man-made. The energy and inspiration these objects project keep the energy of the city with me at all times, and is currently helping my partner Skylar and I channel our focus in preparing for our move back to the Bronx sometime this year. I like to keep at least one expired metro card in my wallet at all times to remind myself that my life back in the city is just within reach, and that it is always there waiting for me to return home.
Spirit: The element of Spirit is associated with all things related to the Divine.
One of my favorite experiences with the divine is witnessing the creation and/or results of street art in the Bronx. The art of graffiti has a long and rich history in the borough, the memory of fearless "vandals" and NYC crackdowns on street art memorialized forever on graffiti-coated subway cars in train graveyards peppered throughout the Bronx. Unfortunately, my family never quite appreciated graffiti, and my NYPD officer Mom saw it as a crime more than anything. But I still marvel at it to this day.
The art itself is breathtaking, especially considering how long these projects take and the risk involved. There is certainly much to be said about the Divinity inherent in a piece of art, particularly art that memorializes fallen neighborhood heroes and historical leaders. But having knowledge of the resilience and determination of local artists of color who persisted in their work in spite of the racist ramifications is what is truly divine and awe-inspiring.
Over the years, I've also witnessed the Divine in strangers on the train and the streets. Outsiders mistake New Yorkers for rude people who don't care about one another, but my experiences could not be further from that perception. Growing up, I was surrounded by angels in my neighborhood who looked out for me. Community members would miraculously show up at the right place and time to rescue me; loving folks around me saw me as family, stood up for me with passion, and provided me with refuge from my childhood home. Since moving from the Bronx as a child, I never had anything that remotely compared to that. My situation at home only grew worse as my loud-mouthed, warm-hearted neighbors were replaced with complicit, uninvolved folks who never even learned my name and favored fairness over authenticity in social interactions.
As an adult, I still experience the divine magick of NYC strangers. I've had people buy me Metro Cards when I didn't have the money, while I couch-surfed at friends' houses as I did everything I could to avoid going home to my parents upstate. The last time I was on the train by myself, I had a woman give up her seat to me when she saw I was having a panic attack, as she comforted me and shielded me from the intrusive elbows and knees of fellow commuters. It is through kind strangers, not from the abusive mouths of Irish Catholic relatives, that I found god, that I found concrete proof of the Divine and learned that it was looking out for me.
What are some of your favorite elemental correspondences to work with in the Bronx, NYC or wherever city you reside(d) in?
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