It’s time to talk about Yule, witches. Not the Pinterest-perfect, sugar-coated shit with matching family pyjamas and mood-lit selfies by a curated tree. No, we’re diving into the chaotic, unapologetic spirit of Yule—the kind where you actually reclaim your power, your traditions, and your spark. So grab your cloak, light that candle, and let’s get feral.
Step One: Burn What No Longer Serves You (Literally or Metaphorically)
Yule is the perfect excuse to set fire to the past. Got regrets? Fears? A boss who makes you question humanity? Write it down, chuck it in the fire (safely, obviously), and laugh like the witch you are. This isn’t just “letting go.” It’s alchemy, babes.

Step Two: Drink Like the Ancestors Did
No, I’m not telling you to chug mead like a Viking on a sugar rush (unless that’s your vibe—no judgment). I mean pour yourself a brew that feels magical: spiced cider, mulled wine, or a ridiculously fancy hot chocolate. Whatever makes your soul sing, drink deeply and toast to your own bloody brilliance.
Step Three: Forget Traditions You Hate
If you can’t stand carols, don’t sing them. If the idea of baking cookies for anyone else makes you want to hex a gingerbread man, skip it. Create new rituals that serve you. Dance under the moon, make offerings to a tree, or stay up till dawn binge-watching horror films. Yule isn’t about fitting in. It’s about finding your fire in the darkness.
Step Four: Summon Your Power Symbols
Decorate, but make it meaningful. Hang skulls on the tree. Scatter holly like wards. Fill your altar with symbols of strength—silver birch for resilience, bells for banishment, and maybe even that Amanita calling to your mischievous heart. Whatever fuels your magic, display it unapologetically.

Step Five: Be Your Own Festive Chaos
Krampus isn’t out here asking permission to be himself, so why are you? Channel that wild Yule goat energy. Sing too loud. Dance too hard. Celebrate being messy, magical, and untamed. If you’ve been waiting for someone to give you permission to be you—here it is, signed, sealed, and delivered by your inner chaos witch.
Let’s make this clear: Yule doesn’t belong to the perfectionists. It belongs to the wayward, the wild, and the witches who refuse to dim their lights. So here’s to you, blazing your own trail through the darkness with mischief and magic as your compass.
Now, go raise hell (or wassail, same thing). Your way, your rules. Always.




