No Spell Fits All: The Risk of Shrinking Witchcraft to Size

A Gloam + Pestle Reflection on Convenience Culture, Ritual Kits, and Why the Work Must Still Be Yours

There’s a rising ache in the bones of this craft—something half-whispered, often ignored, but pressing at the edges of cauldrons and comment sections alike. It’s the myth of convenience. The seduction of simplicity. The modern desire to compress an ancient path into something easy to package, easy to sell, easy to swallow.

Let’s name it: the one-size-fits-all witchcraft fantasy.

It promises transformation in a box. A spell for every struggle. A ritual kit to cover every need. It offers quick fixes where slow rituals once ruled. But Witchcraft isn’t a shortcut. It’s a sacred disruption. And like most things with teeth—it bites back when misused.

A Question Cast in Conversation

This all began with a conversation—like so many good things do. I was speaking with an acquaintance and we found ourselves returning to a question that’s visited both our circles more than once:

Why do so many witches—especially newer ones—long for a magic formula that promises to work for everyone, in every case, without question?

Why do they search for certainty, when Witchcraft itself is a dance with the unknown?

It’s a yearning I understand. But also, one I believe must be unlearned.

Witchcraft is Not a Product Line

Witchcraft, at its core, is deeply personal. Not curated. Not coordinated. Not designed to fit neatly into a fixed aesthetic or seasonal bundle.

It’s messy. It’s shaped by what you survived, what you buried, and what you dared to want again.

To expect one candle, one oil, one pre-written ritual to serve every Witch equally is to treat this work like it’s mechanical—when in truth, it’s relational.

It matters who is lighting the candle.
It matters why the oil is being used.
It matters what energy has already been poured into the jar.

A prosperity working for a queer, Indigenous, chronically ill Witch won’t mirror the same ritual performed by a straight, white, cis practitioner with generational wealth and access. The paths are not the same. The obstacles aren’t either. So why would the spell be?

The Personal is the Power

Your Witchcraft is inseparable from your body, your lived experience, your bloodline, your queerness, your grief, your skin, your rage, your resilience.

You bring all of that into every ritual. Whether you mean to or not.

The symbols you use for love—do they look like red roses? Or do they look like survival? Like being seen for the first time? Like silence broken open?

When we copy-paste spells from books or buy catch-all kits expecting results without reflection, we risk flattening the craft into something performative. We take something alive and make it decorative.

Witchcraft is not decorative. It’s directive. It calls us deeper. Into our bones. Into our shadow. Into the truth that nothing can replace the spell only you were meant to cast.

Let me be clear here. I’m not anti-using spells from books, purchasing oils and magical curios to help. That’s not what I’m saying at all here. I am simply sharing that it is important to realize that you ‘The Witch’ are one of the most important tools here. The way you connect with that oil or with that spell, the way you bring your personal power and craft to it is what sets you apart from the rest.

The Allure of the Instant

Now let’s get honest—this craving for convenience? It doesn’t come from laziness. It comes from burnout.

We live in a world that demands more than it gives. We’re overworked, underpaid, emotionally exhausted, and constantly online. So when something says, “Here—use this one ritual for everything,” it’s understandable that people reach for it.

But spiritual exhaustion needs rest, not shortcuts. Magic that is rushed becomes hollow. And hollow spells don’t hold.

A Caution About Ritual Kits

Let’s get something straight: ritual kits aren’t the enemy. I craft and use them myself.

They can be powerful. They can anchor a moment, offer structure, and help you show up to the work when your energy is frayed.

But they are not plug-and-play miracles. They aren’t meant to replace your own discernment. A Samhain kit made to honor the dead isn’t meant to also bring in a new job or help you move on from your ex.

You wouldn’t use the same blade for harvesting lavender that you use to carve bone.

Need, Desire, Precision, Intent matters. Context matters. Magic matters.

When Tools Become Tainted

Let me tell you a story.

I once knew a Witch who used the same altar setup—same candles, same tools—for everything. Love, protection, ancestral work, and yes, some high-risk maledictive workings. After a while, she noticed her love spells started attracting dangerous partners. Her protection work left her feeling more paranoid than grounded.

Why? Because energy lingers. Ritual tools absorb and echo what you pour into them. A candle used to speak to the dead might still carry that energy during your next full moon love working. Without clearing and intention, your tools become conduits of confusion.

Witchcraft isn’t neutral. It’s volatile in the best way. And without care, it will reflect the mess right back at you.

You Are Not an Audience—You Are the Spellcaster

One of the gravest shifts I’ve noticed in recent years is the slide from practitioner to spectator.

Witches who consume content endlessly, who buy every new drop, who read ritual after ritual—but rarely do the work. We’ve confused reading about spells with casting them. We’ve confused looking witchy with being in the work.

Here’s the truth:

• If you’re not directing the energy, someone else is.

• If you’re not grounding, clearing, and focusing, you’re just wishing, not working.

• And if you’re trying to cast a spell for everything at once? You’re pouring water into a cracked jar. It won’t hold.

You must be the vessel, the flame, and the voice. That’s the trinity of true magic.

So What Does Work?

Start small. Intentionally. Sovereignly.

Ask yourself:

• What do I need right now—not what do I want to fix everything?

• What am I actually willing to do? What am I not ready for yet?

• What is my symbol for love? For safety? For freedom?

Then build your workings from that place. From your marrow.

Use ritual kits when they feel supportive—not as a substitute for personal engagement. Consecrate them. Add your herbs, your chants, your timing. Let the work rise to meet you, not the other way around.

Why This Matters Now More Than Ever

Because we are witches living in collapse. And collapse reveals who’s rooted and who’s posing.

This is the time for real work—the kind you don’t Instagram. The kind you don’t monetize. The kind that reminds you: you are not a consumer of Witchcraft. You are a consecrator of it.

When you try to shrink this wild, vast tradition into a one-size-fits-all mold, you sever yourself from the very power you’re seeking.

Witchcraft doesn’t bend to simplicity. And it won’t coddle your avoidance.

But it will meet you—bloody-fingered, barefoot, and breathless—when you’re ready to do the real work.

Your Craft is Yours Alone

The path of the Witch is not an escalator. There is no ride to the top. You walk. You stumble. You bleed. You rise. You repeat.

So let go of the fantasy of a universal fix.

The magic you seek will never live in someone else’s candle, someone else’s spell, someone else’s wording. It lives in you. In your rituals. Your rhythm. Your relationship with what is sacred, brutal, and true.

There is no one-size-fits-all Witchcraft.

And thank the gods for that.

Let’s Keep the Circle Open

What has your journey taught you about personalization? Have you ever had a ritual backfire or fizzle because it wasn’t tailored to your truth?

Leave a comment. Tell your story. Ask your question. This space is for Witches doing the work—not just watching from the sidelines.

And if you're craving more on this topic, let us know. We’re considering a follow-up piece on How to Personalize Ritual Kits Without Diluting Their Power.

Until then—stay rooted, stay unruly, and remember: no one else can do your work for you.

This is not retail.
This is ritual.

Michael Blackthorn — Gloam + Pestle