Tending my Altars with the Moon
Author’s Note: The content of this blog reflects my personal experiences and perspectives on magic. Witchcraft is a deeply individual practice, and my approach may not align with everyone’s beliefs or traditions. I encourage readers to explore, question, and adapt what resonates with them. Nothing shared here is meant to serve as absolute truth or professional advice. Trust your intuition, do your own research, and walk your own path.
When you live in a small apartment packed with altars—yours, your wife’s, and all the spirits you keep company with—it doesn’t take long for the maintenance crew to decide you’re a little spooky. (They’re not wrong.) Between the two of us, we keep five altars: one for my house spirits, one for my magical practice and the spirits that walk it with me, and one for my gods and ancestors plus two that belong to my wife.
I’m a firm believer that altars are not meant to be static fixtures. They are not shelves, or decorations, or museum pieces. An altar is only alive, only useful, when it’s tended. When left to gather dust, I believe they can make the spirits feel unwelcome—or worse, offended. An ignored altar becomes a hollow space, one that carries resentment rather than reverence. (Note: This is just my personal belief based on my relationship with my spirts and deities and it only applies to intentionally ignoring your altars. It is not an observation on the occasional slip up or the impact of mental or physical illness or fatigue.)
To keep my altars alive and well, I’ve adopted a simple lunar routine. (It's worth noting: in my tradition and its source material, there is little to no reference to the moon as a magical or even folkloric feature. When I use the moon in my working, I use it primarily as a timekeeper. It helps tether me to the spirit world, and to the wider witchcraft community that also works with the sky.)
Full Moon: Tending and Charging
When the moon swells full, I light the candles on my altar. I let them shine for a full day and night if possible. I also use this time to:
Charge supplies and tools on the altar.
Refresh oils, herbs, and other elements that need renewal.
Bring attention to any workings that are still ongoing.
Give offerings to the spirits associated with the altar
For me, the full moon is a time to feed the spirit of the altar, to dress it in its finest, to say: You are seen. You are honored.
New Moon: Stripping and Cleansing
When the new moon rolls around, I do the opposite. I strip the altars bare.
I remove all tools, offerings, and workings
I clean every surface, clearing away dust and old oils
I cleanse my supplies with the sun or fresh air
I dismantle any completed or stagnant workings
For one to three days, my altars stand empty. I let the space breathe. I let it reset.
Only after this pause do I rebuild them.
It’s a simple rhythm, but it keeps my altars—and my spirits—fed. It keeps me accountable to my practice. And it reminds me that magic, like any relationship, needs attention, care, and a little bit of housekeeping.
