It's always the quiet ones...
AS SEEN IN
Hi, I’m Ashley Clauré. Psychic Medium by birth. Witch by choice. I love vintage oddities, haunted seaside towns and coffee strong enough to raise the dead. My life has always straddled worlds.
I was born on a cold winter night. Two weeks late, but far too tiny and barely able to breathe. I was whisked away without a word. My mother was certain I was dead. After two weeks in an incubator, I survived. It's my heartfelt belief that the powers-that-be couldn't decide if I should move among the mortal world or remain in the spirit realm—so they made me a part of both. And thus, a tiny Medium was born.
I also have a blue birthmark above my heart that doctors could never explain. I've since learned this is called a "Witch's Mark" that would've gotten me killed a few hundred years ago (not to brag or anything). Perhaps I'm not a witch by choice at all; I just needed time to settle into my skin. Like Buffalo Bill in a freshly tailored lady suit.
My intuitive gifts showed up early and uninvited. I suppressed them as much as possible, yet remained inextricably drawn to the paranormal. As a girl of few words, I used art to express the messages I received without having to explain their origins. There was no handbook for my "affliction" in the ‘90s. My tween brain was heavily influenced by cult classics like The Craft, Practical Magic, The Silence of the Lambs, Beetlejuice—and it showed. I was the sleepover menace who'd casually suggest summoning spirits for fun. Ouija board? Already set up. Bloody Mary? Mirror freshly Windex'd. Light as a feather, stiff as a board? Assume the position, ladies.
Stephen King inadvertently saved my sanity. When a vision scared me, I'd lock it in a heavy, mental chest tucked deep into my subconscious. At 15, I read The Shining. To my shock and delight, Danny Torrance did the exact same thing. I wasn't alone afterall.
I didn't fully embrace my abilities until my early 30s. At the time, I was a lonely stay-at-home mom in an unhealthy marriage, 3,000 miles from home in Portland, Oregon. I adored the Pacific Northwest, but caring for three young children left me overwhelmed, overstimulated and chronically exhausted. I was never physically alone, yet I was achingly lonely.
as seen in the guardian
When I was approached by The Guardian to discuss the modern rise of witchcraft retreats, it affirmed what I have always known: women are craving sacred, uninterrupted spaces to simple exist as themselves without fear of judgement or repercussion.
Loneliness doesn't always look the way people expect. Sometimes it exists in a full house, hidden beneath the beautiful, ordinary rhythms of a life you've spent years building. Coven Retreats was my remedy to that loneliness—a place where women could gather, laugh, heal and remember that we were never meant to carry life alone.
I crafted the first Salem Witches Retreat in 2019 with one simple intention: sisterhood. Purposefully small and thoughtfully curated to be playful yet profoundly healing—like the sleepovers of yore I so proudly terrorized. I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one longing for something sacred nostalgia and deep restoration. I was right It sold out in 48 hours.
My husband and I ultimately divorced after 20 years together. That total cosmic rebirth taught me something vital: a woman cannot live solely for others. True magic requires us to claim our own power and build our own altars—however shaky the foundation may be at first.
As a single mom of 3, I knew my spiritual practice had to fit into real life. I didn't have hours to spend memorizing correspondences or performing elaborate rituals, nor did I want to. So I began crafting an elegantly simple practice I could seamlessly weave into the chaotic rhythm of everyday life.
I believe the most powerful magic is often the quietest. Enchanting your morning coffee. Brewing it with moon water. Stirring intentions into the soup you'll serve your family. Lighting a candle just because. Speaking to the moon. Small rituals that gently transform the ordinary into something sacred. Individually they seem simple. Together, they become a way of life.
What began as a passion project quietly became something much more. Coven Retreats evolved from a hobby into my life's work—a living testament to the healing power of community, the courage to begin again and the undeniable magic that unfolds when women gather.
Since 2019, I’ve hosted dozen's of covens. Women from their 20s to their 70s. Within the walls of our shared home, it doesn't matter how old we are or where we've come from. We’re just a bunch of girls laughing, staying up far too late, occasionally summoning spirits, and—most importantly—healing.
Witchcraft, and the women it brought into my life, gave me the courage to become the truest version of myself and create a life that feels like mine. My highest wish is to hold that space for others.
A witch never truly walks alone. If you've come this far, welcome home.
I can't wait to meet you.
With love and lore,
Ashley xo