Deborah Lipp

Okay, here’s an interesting topic (for Wiccans anyway—the rest of you go read Tom).

Via Pagan Soujourner, I find that Essais wonders what’s up with using salt on the altar to represent Earth.

As a symbol of earth, it hasn’t got a lot going for it, other than just sort of generally being a mineral. Lots of other things do that. It’s a consumable, yes, and associated with hospitality, but the reason for that is also its rarity…

So it’s supposed to represent Earth. In that case, why not use…earth? Dirt’s free. It’s plentiful. And when you don’t need it anymore…there’s an obvious place to put it.

Salt is an ancient symbol of purification. It is not just Earth, it is pure Earth, unadulterated, and capable of passing that purity onto other things and beings. The purifying symbology of salt seems to come primarily from its history as a preservative. It appears to have been widely acknowledged as a purifier, and used cross-culturally.

Salt is immensely practical in a ritual setting. It mixes easily with water, allowing your altar to be balanced by Fire-Air (incense) and Water-Earth (saltwater). Mixing earth with water makes mud, and is a less aesthetic option.

If you are doing an indoor ritual, you can sprinkle salt or saltwater on the floor or carpet without making a mess (unlike the mud/soil alternative). You can also use pebbles, and carefully mark the circle by placing one at a time, but y’know, lots of time with the butt in the air is a less fun circle-casting for me. Sprinkling is faster and doesn’t strain the low back quite so much.

Essias also wonders how to dispose of ritual salt:

I couldn’t just throw it in the trash; it had been on my altar, and it deserved better than that. I couldn’t bury it, as I did the other bits and pieces which wouldn’t be coming with me; salted soil is barren, and that’s hardly what I intended to leave behind.

Cook with it and make sacred soup. Use it in a ritual bath. Make a consecrated body scrub with the salt and perform a self-purification. Pour small amounts on the ground, well-distributed. This is good advice for many of the things we pour onto the earth and has its own inner wisdom about interacting with nature.

I once damaged a patch of earth by pouring wine offerings there over and over. My teacher pointed out that drinking lots and lots of wine wasn’t good either, but drinking some was okay. Learning to tread lightly on the earth, with ourselves, with our leftovers, is a powerful Wiccan teaching.