Chokae'

26/10/2026

The Hunter’s Moon is up, the last full moon before Samhain. Gather your harvest, clear the field, and set out your moon water tonight.

Love

Papawitch

altar

25/10/2026

Hunter’s Moon. Fat, low, and bright enough to read a map by. The old ones ran their hunts under this exact light, because they understood a plain fact: the cold was coming to kill them, and tonight bought a few extra hours to stockpile enough to survive it. Zero romance in it. Pure survival math lit up in silver.

Step out and stand under it. That light pours down on all of you, the stuff you’re proud of and the stuff you shoved in a drawer and slammed shut back in July. A moon this loud works like somebody flipping the switch in a room you swore was empty. And look, there it is, the thing you’ve been tiptoeing around for months, standing in the middle of the floor throwing a shadow halfway up the wall.

Here’s where it gets serious. The whole year is tipping over into Samhain, the wall between the living and the dead going thin as cheap paper, the dark cracking its knuckles and getting ready to run the show for months. This bright night is the hinge it all swings on. One last floodlight before somebody cuts the power. Call it a gift. Call it a warning. Same beam either way.

So here’s your work. Haul yourself outside tonight and find your own shadow laid out on the ground, the long one the moon rips straight out of you. Stand over it and put a name to it, the one piece of your life you’ve been running in the dark like a backroom operation. Say it out loud, straight at the moon, one honest sentence. Let the brightest night on the calendar stand there as your witness while you finally stop pretending.

The moon keeps the lamp burning all night long. Walk into it. Start with your own shadow.

Love,
Papawitch

24/10/2026

This started as a note to a friend.

They asked me how to build a Samhain altar. I started writing. Then I kept writing. Then I kept writing some more… because forty years of practice has a lot to say once you get it started.

When I finally looked up, my friend said something like “…did you just write an e-book?”

Apparently I did.

So here it is.

My first.

A complete Samhain Ritual Altar Guide: materials, layout, invocations, divination, shadow work, ancestor connection, and a full 90-minute ritual… all in one place, designed for anyone who wants to honor this sacred cross-quarter time with intention and depth.

One thing worth saying: this is A way. Not THE way. It’s rooted in my tradition, my 40+ years of practice, and what genuinely works for me at this threshold time of year. Take what serves you. Adapt what doesn’t. Make it yours.

Whether Samhain is months away or freshly behind you, the work in this guide is timeless.

Love
Papawitch

Available now at papawitch.gumroad.com — screen edition and print edition both included.

link in my bio

https://papawitch.gumroad.com/l/ublte

01/10/2026

I have stood at ceremonies where a child’s remains were brought back to the land of their birth. People I personally know, alive today, survived the boarding school system.

Across the United States and Canada, governments and churches tore Indigenous children from their families and set about stripping away their identities. Children were beaten for speaking their own languages, subjected to sexual abuse, forced labor, hunger, and neglect. Thousands died.

Calling that work “civilization” is a filthy obscenity. Religious institutions preached salvation while participating in a system built to erase Indigenous peoples through their children. Canada’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission named its purpose: cultural genocide.

Some families finally receive their children as remains, generations after someone should have brought them home alive. Sit with what that means.

Orange carries that remembrance. Accountability means opening the records, identifying the children, funding their return, and putting resources directly into the hands of survivors and their communities. Every institution involved owes far more than a carefully worded apology.

23/09/2026

Fall is here.

Something shifts this time of year, and I love every bit of it.

The light hits differently. Evenings arrive a little earlier. Trees start showing off. Markets fill with things that taste like the earth actually meant them. Somewhere, somebody is lighting a fire, pouring something good, cooking too much food, and calling people they love to come eat.

I love this time of year.

The Fall Equinox gives us that beautiful moment of balance before the season really starts moving. Day meets night. Summer hands over the keys. Autumn walks in carrying apples, smoke, wet leaves, good dirt, colder mornings, and absolutely gorgeous decay.

There’s wisdom here, sure. There’s also pleasure.

So eat something wonderful. Get outside. Pay attention to the sky. Light the good candle. Use the beautiful bowl. Invite somebody over. Laugh too loudly. Take stock of what actually grew in your life this year and decide what deserves more of you.

The world is changing right in front of us.

Might as well be awake for it.

I’m sending you love, life, encouragement, and a little witchery for the road.

Blessed Fall Equinox, my friends. 🍂

Love

Chokae’

22/09/2026

20/09/2026

Fall’s here, and you can feel it turning.

I run these group resets four times a year, on the solstices and the equinoxes, because they do the work. Forty days, starting on the equinox, two days out. Each morning I send you something small to carry: a rite, a question, a tarot card.

We move with the season. Take stock of what actually grew this year, clear out the s**t that’s been sitting around way too long, get your house and your practice together. Body, mind, heart, spirit, all of it gets some attention.

And we enjoy it. That part matters to me. This whole thing is about landing back in your own life and liking it there again.

I’m a witch. October’s my Super Bowl. Come spend it with me.

We start in two days. Message me the word FALL and I’ll walk you in.

Papawitch

samhainseason ritual shutyourmonkey

20/09/2026

Here’s the slow punch. The time was yours. You spent it on the easy pull, the loud pull, whatever asked less of you while you stood in front of it. Feed one corner of your life and watch a different one go hungry behind your back. That’s the whole math of it, plain as morning.

So here’s your work. Grab paper, draw one line down the middle. Left side, write the one thing you actually harvested this year, upright and yours. Right side, write the one you let go soft. Fold the left toward you and tuck it where you pass it daily, proof you can build. Burn the right, let the ground take the lesson so you carry it forward instead of repeating it.

That blade on the table serves whoever picks it up. Reach for yours. Start with your own field.

Love,
Papawitch

07/09/2026

I came to Bali in 2020 for a month.

Then the world shut down and a month became almost two years.

Pengosekan was my neighborhood. This little morning market was part of everyday life here.

I live farther out in the rice fields these days, but I still come back. I know the faces. I know where I like to buy my vegetables. I know which dogs are going to be underfoot.

This morning I brought my camera.

That’s it, really. A little market in Pengosekan on an ordinary morning.

I fkn love it here.

Papawitch

01/09/2026

This arrogant bitch just cut the line. Yeah I said it… Right in front of me. At the airport. Just now.

Walked her privileged ass over, planted herself directly in front of me, and now she’s standing there staring at the departure board like she didn’t just do it. She did it. The vile creature saw me and did it anyway, betting I’d eat it quietly because what’s my option, right? Go off, cause a scene, be the bad guy, the angry black man, catch a charge. That’s the bet she made.

That’s the whole thing. Just strolled into my space dead certain she’d pay nothing for it, banking on my restraint so hard she couldn’t even be bothered to turn around. You saw me. You chose the board.

So I’m standing here swallowing every word that would’ve put me in cuffs while this degenerate pretends the space in front of her is empty. The only reason this is quiet is me… And yeah, I called her a bitch, because that’s what she is.

frustration unitedstates