One Pagan Steps Out of the Broom Closet

One Pagan Steps Out of the Broom Closet

 

by L. Lisa Harris

In days past, stepping out of the broom closet meant sitting at the dinner table and blurting out, “Mom, I’m a witch,” then waiting for her to accept the fact and ask you questions, or faint dead away. She might tell you it was a phase you were going though or refuse to talk to you for a period of time. As a general rule, if it wasn’t accepted, it never left the dinner table. It just wouldn’t do to air the family’s dirty laundry to the neighbors (what would they think?).

Today, it could still be as simple as telling a trusted co-worker that you go to circle, instead of church, or explaining to a potential significant other why there is 7-inch dagger on a small table next to your bed. You might even be lucky enough to be outed by your 9-year-old child, who in an argument with a neighborhood kid yells, “Yeah, well, my mom’s a witch, and I’m going to go get her right now.”

However, with the advent of the Internet, one’s “witchiness” (along with anything else of interest) can be world news in a matter of seconds, as I quickly learned. The speed at which such information can travel and how far it can get can be quite surprising, even for one who is “out of the broom closet.” You can give in an interview to the local paper, and the next thing you know, you’re getting e-mail from Australia.

My adventure in pagan PR and world news began early last winter when I received a phone call from Steve Maynard of the Tacoma News Tribune advising me that he was planning to do a feature story on the Earth Centered Spirituality Group at the Unitarian Universalist (UU) Church in Tacoma, which I have facilitated for the past two and a half years. Steve covers religion for the paper and was slowly but surely making progress with his editor in getting earth-centered events covered on the religion page. We both knew he had a long way to go before he would be permitted to treat our group as the paper did other religious groups when, last Easter season, his editor would not allow him to use the word “pagan” when he was describing a UU church service in which elders read children stories of how four traditions (pagan, Hebrew, Christian and Unitarian) celebrated the Easter season.

I was expecting his feature story to be on the religion page, as we were just beginning to get calendar space in the Saturday edition in that section. Imagine my surprise when he told me that it was going to be the cover for the “Sound Life” magazine section and that there was also going to be a photo layout. He was even going to use the words “pagan” and “witch.” For a moment, I couldn’t believe it. All the months of pestering him and sending press releases and information had paid off. We were going to be taken seriously. We were going to have a chance to let Western Washington know what we were and what we weren’t. I was elated.

But on the drive home from work, I asked myself, “What was I thinking?” A nice little column on the religion page was one thing, but to be on the magazine cover of a Sunday edition was another matter. I have been “out” with my family and friends for 13 years and even wear a triple moon pentacle at work, where I have no problem educating those who would malign others’ religion out of ignorance. But when I thought about the conservative Christian parents of the girls I coach in softball and volleyball on the South Hill of Puyallup reading in the Sunday paper about their coach being a witch, something in my stomach did a double back-flip with a twist. I had visions of girls being pulled from the team by parents who didn’t want them corrupted by that “tool of Satan,” other kids not being allowed to play with my daughter and picketers throwing rocks in front of the church. Steve and I had been working towards this for almost a year and a half, so it was no small matter that I found myself reconsidering the wisdom of the situation.

Most witches I know would meditate or cast a circle and ask the Goddess for guidance when dealing with an important situation like this. My goddess never waits for me to do that. I’ve learned to deal with it. She likes to slip into the passenger seat of my car when I’m trying to drive home at the end of a busy day or corner me when I’m in the bathroom and can’t get up and leave because my pants are around my ankles. This time she chose the car, and she really let me have it. “You’re the one that wanted to be a warrior. Now you’re given a chance to battle ignorance and you’re afraid? Don’t be a wimp! Get out there and act like a priestess, not a weenie!” I don’t recommend dedicating yourself to the Morrigane unless you’re the type of person who can stand up to a drill sergeant without flinching. Of course, as I remember it, I didn’t have a lot of say in the matter. She chose me.

About the time I was feeling completely unworthy, my cell phone rang. It was my daughter letting me know that she was home from school. “Honey, how would you feel if the next article about me was in a bigger paper than the last one?” I asked.

“Um, okay, why?” she replied, her mouth overly full of partially chewed banana. I explained that it would be a front page spread and my picture was likely to be in it. More chewing, and another “Um, okay” followed the sound of the fridge being rummaged through. I asked her what her friends would think if they saw the article, and she assured me that her friends don’t read anything other than the horoscopes, music reviews and comics.

“How would you feel if one of your friends wouldn’t hang out with you anymore because your mom’s a witch?”

“I don’t think that would happen,” she said.

“But what if it did?” I pushed.

She swallowed the rest of her banana, which I’m sure was not properly chewed, and in her best exasperated-adolescent voice said, “Well, that wouldn’t make them very good friends, now, would it? Can I go over to Morgan’s?” So much for the girl being traumatized by it. That was one excuse gone. I reminded her to chew with her mouth closed and take smaller bites, then hung up the phone.

The next call came in right on schedule, from Hubby, who was on his break at work. “Hi, honey, how would you feel if all the guys in the break room at work read in the paper that I’m a witch?” I asked, thinking that there was no point in beating around the bush since he only had 10 minutes to talk.

His response was immediate and enthusiastic, “Cool!” he said. “When will it come out? I’d love for some of those dumb, right-wing conservative jerks I argue politics with to see it, so that I can yank their chain.” When he found out it would be in the Sunday edition, he was extremely disappointed he wouldn’t be there at work to watch the looks on his co-workers’ faces when they read it. It would have been amusing, since I used to work in the same place and know all of them. Great, Hubby wasn’t going to be an excuse either. I was going to have to go through with it.

The next step was to set up interviews and photo opportunities. The interviews weren’t going to be a problem. I’d been talking to Steve for over a year and a half and had sent him volumes of information. How much was there that he could possibly ask? I found out that there was plenty. It seemed that the more information I gave him, the more questions he had. He found that the more people he talked to and the more research he did, the more disagreement on basic issues he found. After a month of spending my lunch hours, breaks and time after work talking to Steve, I still couldn’t come up with answers to some questions other than, “Well, if you ask 30 people that question, you’ll likely get 30 different answers.”

I could hear him shaking his head on the other end of the phone line, but he kept with it. He interviewed Ph.D.s, ministers, theologians, authors and other high priestesses in the local community. He attended Tarot classes and rune workshops that we put on in order to get a better understanding of what our group does and interviewed several people at those classes to get a feel for the local community.

The photo editor wanted to photograph a ritual. “We don’t allow photographers at our rituals,” I explained. When I offered to set something up with people who didn’t mind being photographed, he told me that at the paper they “don’t like things that are staged.” “Great!” I muttered to myself. I already had a Brigid ritual to write, a class on the runes to put together and lines to memorize for a Candlemas ritual that another group was putting on. I knew that the only way the layout was going to work would be to put on a real working with participants who didn’t mind being photographed. I made the offer of a special ritual, with a real working, and once he was convinced it wouldn’t be “staged” and I had his agreement the photographer would not disrupt the flow of the ritual, the date was set. I put out a call to the local pagan e-mail lists for volunteers who didn’t mind being photographed.

Getting the volunteers was much easier than I had imagined, and I was rather pleased with how things were working out. The difficult part, I discovered, was going to be finding a ritual that wouldn’t expose material that many in the pagan community would consider “inappropriate” for public use or that would offend or exclude anyone. I soon discovered that what some considered “outer court” material, suitable for any public occasion, others considered “oath-bound.” I was also faced with the fact that just because something is published and sitting on a shelf at Borders doesn’t mean that it isn’t considered oath-bound by one tradition or another. I suddenly had to worry about being pagan politically correct.

Then there were the personal preferences of those who were going to be in the circle. My Wiccan friends didn’t want a Wiccan ritual “performed” for the media. Some of the pagans didn’t want to be confused with witches, the neo-pagans didn’t want to be confused with “New Agers,” my Brit-trad friends didn’t want to be mistakenly identified as Unitarians, and some of the Unitarians didn’t want to be labeled at all. I had 17 ritualists with 17 different ideas of what would and wouldn’t be appropriate.

As I sat at my computer, staring out the window at the woods out back, I thought to myself, “If my close friends and those who trust me to present paganism to the media are this fired up, what about all the pagans who are going to read this in the paper and had no say in the matter? What are they going to think?” Suddenly I went from feeling like a champion of those who suffer religious oppression to feeling like someone not worthy of the task. I had lost count of the number of people who thought that no reporter could be trusted and that I was making a huge mistake. But I had been talking to Steve for a long time. I knew him. I knew what he wanted to accomplish and trusted him to do right by us. I thought I was doing a good thing, and it seemed that it just ticked everyone off. Visions of angry pagans wanting my hide were added to the already scary ones of crosses burning on my lawn or windows being broken at the church by those who fear us. More doubt filled my mind. I tried to brush it away as quickly as I could. I really wasn’t up for a bathroom visit from a ticked-off goddess. I was starting to get a headache.

Two glasses of wine later, I had decided that we would use only published material, to which I would make some changes so that no tradition’s sacred material would be exposed to the media. The ritual would be a working for community understanding, which seemed fitting for a media event. I scanned my bookshelves, literally sagging under the weight of what my hubby considers my “excessive” book collection, hoping that something would present itself.

I noticed my old dog-eared copy of The Spiral Dance sticking out a bit farther than the other books on the shelf. “Starhawk! She knows how to deal with the public and fight for the cause. I don’t really think she’d mind if I borrowed a few things,” I told myself. I found a ritual written by Alan Acacia titled “A Circle for Healing During Struggle,” which fit in perfectly with what we were planning. I modified it to be less priestess-centered and to have the quarters read their parts themselves. I picked out some nice invocations to the God and Goddess, and soon I had a basic ritual ready to go.

The ritual was beautiful, so beautiful in fact that I forgave my friend Dana without even giving her a hard time for calling me a “circle Nazi” in rehearsal. Everyone showed up in festive clothing and colorful robes. People who came to sit and watch but didn’t want to risk being “outed” by being in the circle were drawn in; they just couldn’t stay out. The quarter callers performed their parts perfectly, the candles all stayed lit, and our sound and lighting person hit every musical cue. We passed a small cauldron, which was later lit, around the room, so that each person in turn could hold it and speak aloud what they hoped to accomplish with the ritual. Everyone was so eloquent and sincere and came up with such wonderful, positive wishes that the reporter was frantic trying to copy them all down. We danced a spiral to raise energy, and everyone in that room could feel a strong, palpable force, even the photographer. We had been asked prior to the ritual to send healing energy to a critically ill girl who was on a respirator in a children’s hospital, so we added that to our ritual working and sent it all flying out of the circle in a powerful stream of golden light. Afterwards, everyone in the circle had a look on his or her face as if they had just had amazing sex. I’d call that good energy.

At 4 a.m. on February 8, after weeks of worries and what ifs, I drove down the hill to the mini-mart to get a copy of the paper. I took a deep breath, readying myself in case it wasn’t really there or my trust in the reporter had been misplaced. On the cover of the “Sound Life” section was a full color picture of the ritualists with their outstretched arms, adorned with rings, bracelets and colorful robes, sending healing energy to the ill girl, and the headline “Pagans at Peace.” The light bouncing off of the sanctuary wall in the background looked just like a ball of gold light being tossed out to the universe. There were pictures of the rune workshop and flaming cauldrons. I must say it was possibly the best article I have ever seen on paganism in the mainstream press. Steve had even quoted Christian clergy to explain what attracts seekers to witchcraft and paganism. Yes, there were some things left out, and a couple of people didn’t think that the press should have made it sound like all pagans share a common set of beliefs. All I could do was say, “Well done, Steve. Thank you.” (To see the story, check out “NEW !!! UUAT In the News” under http//members.nbci.com/uuatearth/.)

There were no picketers in front of the UU church that morning. No threatening messages had been left on the answering machine there or at home. Everyone in the church was excited about the article, and some new people even showed up because of it. A friend who works in a local hospital arrived at work to find the article pinned to the bulletin board and a request for pagan clergy posted. The hospital staff had taken notice of the article section that spoke of pagan hospital patients not having access to clergy services. Now there is a group in Pierce County putting together a program to get pagan clergy registered with local hospitals.

The article made it around the globe in a few hours, thanks to the Internet mailings lists and bulletin boards. It made at least two appearances in the “Wren’s Nest” section of The Witches Voice Web site, and I received congratulations from Circle Sanctuary. Soon I started receiving e-mail messages from all over the world. One told me how the article came at a perfect time to show to a judge in a child custody battle in which the mother’s Wiccan religion was being used against her. Another letter told of a case where a young girl was missing and the local media had blamed it on the fact that she had visited a Web site on Wicca. The story went out on the Howard-Scripps News Service and was reprinted in several other newspapers, sparking a whole new batch of letters, all with similar stories and gratitude to Steve for portraying us in a positive light, not just as a media curiosity at Halloween, as many newspapers do.

When it was apparent that nothing bad was going to happen because of the article, I was almost disappointed. I wasn’t going to have to do battle against ignorance or have an exciting and dangerous story to tell in Widdershins. I came to realize, though, that I did have a story to tell. It isn’t about confrontation or hate. It is about battling my own fear and self-doubt. It is a story of a group of people who came together, regardless of personal risk, to accomplish a goal for the greater community. It is the story of a little girl who got off of a respirator and is back home with her family, who incidentally are not pagan.

She Moves in Mysterious Ways

She Moves in Mysterious Ways

My relationship with Yemayá

by Iris WaterStar

 

The first time that I saw an image of Yemayá, two thoughts ran through my head; the first one was “Oh, that’s me,” quickly followed by the second one, which ran along the lines of “What an odd thing to be thinking about a picture on a candle.” This was about two and a half years ago; the candle was one that I saw in a shop on Capitol Hill called Three Furies. I was there looking around with a friend, and this picture seemed to jump out at me. I had absolutely no idea who in the world this was, but I knew that she was wonderful, and so familiar.

It felt like seeing myself, or some part of myself, a part that I wanted to unfold somehow. This candle was one of the tall cylindrical kind; it was green and had a color painting on it. The picture is of a beautiful woman, standing on the waves of a green ocean surrounded by white blossoms. The stars are out in the twilight sky above her; the crescent moon is off to one side. She has long, dark flowing hair and is wearing a long white gown with her arms outstretched. From her hands, golden stars are falling. She has a thin aura above her head and another bright five-pointed star above her head. She is neither smiling or frowning, she simply is as she is.

I had never experienced a candle calling to me like this one did. I picked it up and put it down several times. Each time, I put it down I was aware of the feeling she was meant to go with me. I finally asked the man who ran the store “Who is this?” He wasn’t sure; he said he thought that it was some ocean-type goddess or something, but that some people had come in recently and told him her name. He couldn’t remember it but it was something like… and he pronounced something that I promptly forgot.

He also told me that these people who knew of her said that he had the candle color all wrong, and that it should be blue and not green. I bought the green candle anyway because I didn’t want to wait the couple of weeks it would take to make another candle.

I took the candle home and promptly set up an altar, with the candle as a centerpiece. I had always had shrines but never one that was dedicated to a specific persona. I had some cobalt-blue glass that I put around it, and shells (I am a Pisces so these weren’t hard to come by ); I had an incense burner, and I bought some moon incense. I had seawater and flowers and white candles.

These things just seemed right and felt like what would be appropriate for an ocean goddess. I remember looking at her and being a little in awe of the energy that seemed to be somehow associated with her. At times, I was a little afraid, but then I immediately would get this sense that she had chosen to come home to be with me and so fear wasn’t needed. I still kept a healthy respect for this energy, as well as a growing fondness.

I later went back to the store and purchased another candle with a beautiful turquoise-blue background. I added that to the altar as well. I did a winter solstice ritual in my apartment that year in solitary fashion. I am used to working with spirit guides, as I have worked as a psychic and spiritual teacher for a number of years, and so I wasn’t completely alone in my work that evening. But I was amazed just the same as I did my work and lit the incenseand candles. I really felt her yet unnamed presence with me. It was a very powerful night.

It was a few months after this time that a woman came into my life who was soon to become one of my best friends. She came to visit my apartment, and in that visit, I first learned of who this goddess was who had decided to come into my life. Her name, my friend told me, was Yemayá. And I found out I had unknowingly set up my altar with many of her traditional things.

Yemayá has an amazing way of setting things up. I found myself signing up for a drumming class along with several good friends. I had never really been interested in taking a class in drumming, but my friends said that “afoshè,” the rhythm that we would be working with, was really hot. So I went to a couple of classes and found myself not only learning the afoshè beginning drumming technique. By “coincidence,” we also learned a chant in this class; it was one to call up a certain goddess in the Yoruba faith. Guess who? So I ended up learning a song/chant and a rhythm that is traditionally used to invoke Yemayá in the rituals where the orishas “ride” the participants. I had to laugh; how obvious can you get!

I have been aware of Yemayá in many different ways; she speaks to me, and I am aware of her when I meditate sometimes. She is very loving and powerful, and I have an incredible affinity for her. She also has been very respectful of my personal space. In my own private personal magic, I do things that might be considered on the edge. Sometimes my ritual journeying involves extreme sensation, and one such evening, it involved piercing. I had very clear visions and awareness of Yemayá during this session, and it was also somehow associated with my Venezuelan Indian descent. I won’t go into great detail here, since it was quite personal, but suffice it to say that she comes to me very strongly sometimes. Along with working with Yemayá, I have become very conscious of the power of my own blood time and have incorporated this into my rituals as well.

I find it a little odd that I tend to do these things and then find out later that they are already in line with traditional practices. I guess I just do things backwards sometimes. Perhaps it is just as well to not second-guess myself. But nontheless, I am finally gathering written information about her and her traditions.

I am also going through the rite of formally choosing her as the goddess to which I am dedicated. On my altar, these days I have added a lovely statue of her, a new candle with her picture on it, her name and the term “La Diosa del Mar” (the Goddess of the Sea). I even have some Yemayá oil. I also have an amulet that my good friend made for me (the one who told me Yemayá’s name in the first place) that has many of the things sacred to her on it.

One of the most recent things I read called her the “Queen of the Ocean, First Mother of the World, Queen of Waters, owner of waters both sweet and sour. Mother of the children of the fishes, deliverer of her people.” It seems appropriate from this Piscean perspective.

I have since heard on more than one occasion that an orisha (which is what Yemayá is) tends to choose people, as opposed to people choosing the orisha. This certainly was true in my case. I didn’t know at the time I went into that store on Capitol Hill that I was going in to meet my goddess. And other than my actual experiences with her, nothing means as much to me as the original candles that I bought, when I didn’t know anything about her – just the feeling/thought that “Oh, that’s me, there I am.”

Happy & Blessed Sunday To All!

Good Sunday morning to all! I hope you are having a wonderful day so far. And your weather much better than mine. It has stormed all morning long and still at it.

I promise to keep this short and sweet today. Yes, really! You remember I was talking about the pendant I was wanting to concentrate to me last evening. The pendant has gorgeous emerald jewels in it. The more I looked at it, the more I wanted to wear it. So I said what the heck. I got everything ready for my simple ritual. My two familiars always attend to me during my spells and rituals, today was no different. My cat sits in the floor and my puppy on the edge of the bed right behind me. If I am doing a ritual or spell and there is someone around that shouldn’t be she lets me know. Well I had started the ritual and was getting close to the end. All of a sudden, Kiki warned me that someone was around. I just figured hubby had opened the door and saw what I was doing and shut it. Shortly after that I closed the ritual and put on the pendant. I turned around and there stood my neighbor with his weedeater in hand with his mouth hung open. I like to have sh*t! I could not believe it. When you are in your home, you expect privacy. Ha, not around here apparently. My yard is well-kept, there is no reason for him to be here at all.  I told my husband about it and he was pissed too. He told me that he guessed I would have to start pulling the blinds when I decided to do some spell work. He also said he knows you are a witch now for sure. I was just so mad I couldn’t stand it. I walked out in the yard and asked the man why he was in my yard. His reply was he was just trying to help out. I guess I was rude but I told him I didn’t need his help. Then he had the gall to ask me what I was doing in my own house. I lost it. I can’t even post what I said to him. If what I said to him doesn’t keep his butt at home, nothing will. I am a private person and I hate my privacy violated. He was the same one that followed me to where I feed the wildcats at. I have food I buy and also if I have scraps I load them up on the four-wheeler and take them down to the creek. I was sitting down and a couple of the wildcats were loving all over me. The man had brought his gun. It was a bolt-action high-powered 30-06 and I heard it. I asked him, “what the heck he was doing there?” He told me, “that he thought I was being attacked by those cats.” I stood up and the cats were loving around my legs and growling at him. I told him that he needed to leave and not to follow me again. After that I moved the feeding place for the big cats. I figured he just wanted to know where they were to come back and kill them all.  But it just amazes me how people like to stick their nose in other people’s business.

Well I feel much better now. I just had to blow up about the neighbor and now I feel better. I hope you don’t have neighbors like me. If you do, I feel sorry for you. Well I am off to do the posts now and think what I am going to do to my nosey neighbor, hee, hee, hee! Got any good ideas?

What’s All This About “And Harm None”?

What’s All This About “And Harm None”?

article

by Freya Ray

“Do what you will, and harm none.” What does that mean, exactly? Why on earth would any community hamstring itself with a fundamental motto so basically impossible to live up to? When you think about it, it’s crazy, right?

The Jains, those intensely wacked-out Hindu-type people who believe all life is sacred — and I mean all life — they try. They go barefoot so they don’t inadvertently crush any little critters. They eat no animals. They wear a cloth across their mouth so they don’t inhale a bug. Now that’s devotion to a creed.

Does it work for them? If you play it out logically, any food they eat is taking food from the mouths of other creatures. In India, this equation is even more apparent than here, the land of the surplus. I’m sure Jains roll over during the night and squish caterpillars, brush gnats out of their ears with a little too much force and kill them dead, dead, dead or eat some rice with little cooked rice-eating bugs in it. Not to mention the damage that is inflicted to all the tiny dandruff-eating mites that inhabit our bodies with every belly scratch. You can run it up the food chain, too. The rice that the devout Jain eats is grown on land that is therefore not used to grow hay, and he could be causing the death of a cow through his own feeding.

Please indulge me, and allow me to run through a similarly ludicrous examination of a good little witchy person trying earnestly to do no harm. Say she wants to draw love into her life. She does a nice little ritual to draw a mate to her, being terribly careful not to make any specific requests about any particular individual, so as to not infringe on anyone’s free will. She disposes of any leftover ritual props in sharps containers or recycle bins and dumps nothing into a storm drain. She just wants to be happy, after all, and thinks she needs a mate in her life to be happier, although of course she’s fully aware that true happiness comes from being full in yourself and wouldn’t ever dream of needing to be rescued from her loneliness, although it might be nice to have sex again before she dies.

You with me? Now what happens? Anything. She’s altered the energetic balance of the universe, moving energy and intent toward a specific purpose. She’s shaken things up, sending out a “Now!” signal into the void. She might get someone, but not a very good someone but only what was available at the moment. She might get the letter of what she asked for but not the intent, because the deities are crafty bastards. She might run around after the ritual radiating sexual readiness in such an overtly enticing way she provokes a normally faithful partner to start hitting on her, causing his girlfriend to dump him. Any of these scenarios are possible, and any of them can result in heartbreak and angst for all of the players involved. Or worse, she might get what she wants, be deliriously happy, pissing off her bitter single girlfriends and losing all her pals.

Go on, play this game yourself. Ask yourself, when did I do ritual asking for something? How did it go wrong, in ways I might have anticipated but didn’t? If you’ve been playing with fire, you’ve been burned, unless you’re perfect, and then why are you reading me?

Then there’s ritual for other specific purposes. You might do a ritual of protection for yourself after a bad relationship, a woo-woo restraining order. A year later you realize you haven’t had sex since the circle went up, and guess why? Think of the untold harm this has brought all your potential sex partners during that period of time! The heartbreak!

You do a healing circle. After the circle, one participant has a nervous breakdown, another ends a long-term relationship, another quits his job and becomes an artist. Harm, or not? The nervous breakdown might lead to breakthrough healing, but then it might be the frying caused by too much energy running through a system unprepared for it. The end of the relationship might be good and long overdue, or it might be the result of someone high from endorphins released by letting go of old baggage who decides she’s too good for the partner who stood by her through carrying all the baggage, and if she stuck around another six weeks they’d have been happy together forever. The artist — following his dream or caught up in a Bohemian fantasy? Living his path or abandoning his responsibility to pay child support every month?

How on earth is one to tell?

Spirit can probably keep track of all the ramifications of individual events, but humans can’t. As to judging whether individual results are boon or bane, I’m not entirely convinced Spirit keeps score that way. When we do, it only makes for extensive confusion, and worse.

“And harm none” is a great idea for keeping Fluffbunny Artemis Moonriver from casting a spell to bring Peter Trent, the boy next door and man of her dreams, to her bed, despite his complete and utter lack of interest in giggling little Artemis. It’s a good motto to try and dissuade High Priestess Arachne Wolfspawn from casting a curse unto the seventh generation on the landlord who wouldn’t refund her security deposit because of the teensy little cigarette burns in the carpet. It’s a fine thing to attempt to keep Lord Wizard Aleister SexGod of the Ninth Circle from “initiating” all his “novices” with mushrooms and “tantric sex magick.” I’m not sure it works, but it’s a nice idea, and well worth repeating.

What effect does it have on those with both a conscience and a brain, though? You work to learn responsible magical practices. You sweat the language for your rituals, trying to envision all the possible consequences. You set up support groups and phone trees for helping people who crash after ritual. You do giveaway work more often than you ask for anything for yourself; you try not to offend people in the supermarket.

Good for you.

After a while, you realize you’ve PC’d yourself into a little box, and you can’t really remember why this whole Wiccan thing was so appealing in the first place. Wasn’t there some original moment of power and glory when you touched all of creation, throbbed with majestic spiritual strength, knew your divinity? Wasn’t there some seminal idea about living without compromising yourself to your dominant culture; following your own heart, creating your own reality?

Screw it, then. I mean, assuming you’ve got a conscience and a brain. If you don’t, then you don’t need my words as an excuse to bungle things up wildly all around you all the time.

I let that idea, harm none, lead me away from the place where I radiated power all the time. I got tired of people (only some of them, some of the time, but still … harm none) jumping back out of a hug as if they’d been shocked. I got tired of people calling me after a two-hour first date to tell me their stuff was suddenly all up in their face and they were in no way ready for a relationship. I got tired of people shrinking from eye contact as if I were overwhelming their circuits by beaming lasers from my eyes.

I mean, it’s not like I’m Guru Mai, right? I’m not offering shaktiput, elevating the consciousness of devotees with a glance, touch or hug. I’m not part of some grand tradition where running current at a zippy frequency is celebrated.

No, I was making people uncomfortable. I was doing too much meditation, too much energy work, too many readings, too much talking to God, too much teaching and ritual. Too much. I was too much.

So I stopped. I watched a lot of TV, I stopped meditating, I turned my attention to writing rather than all the other stuff that required my being terribly amped up. Readings I can still do, even when I’m not crackling with juice. Energy work, no. But it was fine, really.

Until I realized consciously what I had done. In seeking to harm none through least common denominator thinking, I had removed a significant portion of my light from the world. I wasn’t making people uncomfortable anymore, but neither was I challenging them to grow and giving them a little nudge with catalytic energy. I wasn’t radiating at the highest frequency possible for me, the one that brings me the most joy.

It’s a lot more fun being all amped up. If I thought about it, I could list the harm I brought the world by damping my energy down, but the other kind of harm was much more in my face. It’s a Wonderful Life, and all that.

That’s my point, then. Screw `em. Do what you reasonably can to act ethically and responsibly, but don’t sweat it, trying to find the perfectly harm-free path. It can’t be done. Harm happens. Every action you take, every word you speak, is going to have consequences, more of them unforeseen than foreseen. That’s life!

Take a deep breath and do what you are moved to do. If you expand the first part of the creed to “Do what you will, as guided by spirit, your intuition, your wisdom and your conscience,” you’re probably going to be fine.

There will be consequences. You’ll deal with them when they happen. But don’t let the fear of them stop you from charging yourself up, radiating light, learning energy work or asking for what you want. I’ve got the army slogan running through my head now: “Be all that you can be!” Whatever. So it’s hokey. Do it anyway.

Screw it. Do what you will, as best you can.

About Litha: A Guide to the Symbolism of the Wiccan Sabbat

About Litha: A Guide to the Symbolism of the Wiccan Sabbat

a guide to the symbolism of the Wiccan Sabbat

by Arwynn MacFeylynnd

Date: June 20-23 (usually, the date of the calendar summer solstice).

Alternative names: Summer Solstice, Midsummer, Midsummer’s Eve, Alban Heruin, Alban Hefin, Gathering Day, Vestalia, La Festa dell’Estate (Summer Fest), the Day of the Green Man.

Primary meanings: This Sabbat celebrates the abundance and beauty of the Earth. From this day on, the days will wane, growing shorter and shorter until Yule. It is a time to absorb the Sun’s warming rays, and to celebrate the ending of the waxing year and beginning of the waning year in preparation for the harvest to come. Midsummer is another fertility Sabbat, not only for humans, but also for crops and animals. This is a time to celebrate work and leisure, to appreciate children and childlike play and to look internally at the seeds you’ve planted that should be at full bloom. Some people believe that at twilight on this day, the portals between worlds open and the faery folk pass into our world; welcome them on this day to receive their blessings.

Symbols: Fire, the Sun, blades, mistletoe, oak trees, balefires, Sun wheels, summertime flowers (especially sunflowers), summer fruits, seashells and faeries. If you made Sun wheels at Imbolc, display them now prominently, hanging from the ceiling or on trees in your yard. You may want to decorate them with yellow and gold ribbons and summer herbs.

Colors: White, red, maize yellow or golden yellow, green, blue and tan.

Gemstones: All green gemstones, especially emerald and jade, and also tiger’s eye, lapis lazuli and diamond.

Herbs: Chamomile, cinquefoil, copal, elder, fennel, fern, frankincense, galangal, heliotrope, hemp, larkspur, laurel, lavender, lemon, mistletoe, mugwort, oak, pine, roses, saffron, St. John’s wort, sandalwood, thyme, verbena, wisteria and ylang-ylang. Herbs gathered on this day are said to be extremely powerful.

Gods and goddesses: All father gods and mother goddesses, pregnant goddesses and Sun deities. Particular emphasis might be placed on the goddesses Aphrodite, Astarte, Freya, Hathor, Ishtar and Venus and other goddesses who preside over love, passion and beauty. Other Litha deities include the goddesses Athena, Artemis, Dana, Kali, Isis and Juno and the gods Apollo, Ares, Dagda, Gwydion, Helios, Llew, Oak/Holly King, Lugh, Ra, Sol, Zeus, Prometheus and Thor.

Customs and myths: One way to express the cycle of the Earth’s fertility that has persisted from early pagan to modern times is the myth of the Oak King and the Holly King, gods respectively of the Waxing and Waning Year. The Oak King rules from Midwinter to Midsummer, the period of fertility, expansion and growth, and the Holly King reigns from Midsummer to Midwinter, the period of harvest, withdrawal and wisdom. They are light and dark twins, each being the other’s alternate self, thus being one. Each represents a necessary phase in the natural rhythm; therefore, both are good. At the two changeover points, they symbolically meet in combat. The incoming twin — the Oak King at Midwinter, the Holly King at Midsummer — “slays” the outgoing one. But the defeated twin is not considered dead — he has merely withdrawn during the six months of his brother’s rule.

On Midsummer Night, it is said that field and forest elves, sprites and faeries abound in great numbers, making this a great time to commune with them. Litha is considered a time of great magickal power, one of the best times to perform magicks of all kinds. Especially effective magick and spells now include those for love, healing and prosperity. Wreaths can be made for your door with yellow feathers for prosperity and red feathers for sexuality, intertwined and tied together with ivy. This is also a very good time to perform blessings and protection spells for pets or other animals.

Nurturing and love are key actions related to Midsummer. Litha is a good time to perform a ceremony of self-dedication or rededication to your spiritual path as a part of your Sabbat celebration. Ritual actions for Litha include placing a flower-ringed cauldron upon your altar, gathering and drying herbs, plunging the sword (or athamé) into the cauldron and leaping the balefire (bonfire) for purification and renewed energy. Considered taboo on this holiday are giving away fire, sleeping away from home and neglecting animals.

Sacred Symbols and the Witch Next Door

Sacred Symbols and the Witch Next Door
image
Author: Draekaa

It’s Tuesday at five o’clock. I punch out, lock up my desk, and leave the dreaded office for the evening. As I walk out of the side door, I imagine that I’m going through one of those automatic car washes, and the brushes and water are removing the day’s stresses and negativity from me (I’m a title clerk at a car dealership, and as you can imagine, dealing with the DMV every day tends to build up negativity). By the time I get to my car, I’m feeling good, stress free and ready for the evening. I look up and see another Carolina thunderstorm rolling in. It’s going to be a 30-minute drive in the rain, and that makes me smile.

By the time I meander my way out of the parking lot, the rains have started. I roll down my window and stick my hand out. As I drive down the street, going with the flow at 45 mph, I feel the bite on my palms and wrists. Like thousands of needles, the drops seem to pierce my skin, infusing me with the energy of Water and Wind. My entire left side is soaked, and I don’t seem to mind. The family in the mini-van next to me stares slack-jawed, thinking me to be insane. I feel sorry for them. If they only knew how good this feels, how cleansing it is, their heads would hang out of the windows of the van like Labradors. I turn into the parking lot of the grocery store to pick up something for cakes and ale tonight. The rain is coming down in sheets. Thunder cracks and rumbles, making the ground shake. Lightning strikes are everywhere. A handful of people run to their cars, holding a few grocery bags and covering their large heads with thin arms to shield themselves. I have the sudden urge to strip naked, arms out in childlike joy, and dance in deformed circles throughout the parking lot until I’m dizzy and fall into a puddle, laughing. The only thing stopping me is the patrol car parked nearby, with the cop inside catching up on his paperwork. I stroll leisurely into the store and pass a small group of old southern women staring at me as they huddle just behind the automatic doors waiting for the storm to subside. One of them tells me that I’ll get sick from that, and that I should have at least tried to hurry into the store where it’s dry. I look at her and say, “Water is a sacred symbol. I am Cleansed and Purified by the Mother.”

When I’ve finished my transaction and head out of the store, the rain has slowed to barely more than a drizzle. As I turn out of the parking lot, it has stopped all together. Again, I’ve rolled down my window and stuck my arm out; now it’s just the Air that I feel on my skin. I inhale the crisp smells only detected after a storm. My lungs expand, and I feel the butterflies in my stomach. That smell always seems to rejuvenate me. I pull into my driveway, turn off the car and go inside. I put the cakes and ale in the refrigerator, then head straight for the back door. On my deck, I sit and enjoy the rolling hills and farmland behind my house. The smell of the after rain still clings to the Air. I breathe deeply and close my eyes. I feel at one with the Air, with the sky. A light breeze kisses my face. As the breeze kicks up, it wraps around me, a swirling blanket of the Gods. I am given the gift of the East, Air as its symbol, and I take that with me back into the house.

The rest of the coven arrives. I change into my robes and we go into the altar room to set up. I lead them through the chants and the worship, we dine on the cakes and ale, and we meditate briefly before opening circle. After ritual, we sit and catch up on what’s going on in each other’s lives. We laugh, we talk, and we laugh some more. By 9:30 they show themselves out, and I return to the altar room. I light all of the candles once again and stare into the flame of one of my altar candles. I feel my spirit disconnect from my physical body. I enter a trance, and am lost in the awesome power of the Fire. My mind becomes one with the dancing flame and images flood my head. Insights are gained, wisdoms etched into my psyche to forever become a part of me. My education continues, with the Lord and Lady my teachers. The Fire is a symbol of my knowledge. My passion swells as I strive to learn everything…to know…to be. I become aware that I’ve hit the climax of my trance and feel the cycling down, the beginning of the end of the controlled burn. The images slow, and I am once again aware that it is a candle at which I stare. I thank the Gods for bestowing the gnosis upon me, and carefully extinguish the flame.

I am unaware of the time, and do not care to know. I need to ground myself, but rather than do it inside, I instead choose to take our offerings from ritual and bury it outside in the Earth. In the backyard, I find a small, rich patch of soil. Most of the yard is clay, except for here. I dig deeper than needed. Halfway down I toss aside my trowel, electing instead to feel the Earth in my bare hands. As I dig I allow the energies raised within me to pour down into the Earth. The smell of the grass and weeds and dirt permeate me. I feel calm and relaxed, bathed in the glow of the full moon. Carefully I scrape the offering off of the dish. I close my eyes and feel good, knowing that however small it is, this gift of thanks to the Gods will decompose, and what grows in this spot will receive some extra nutrition. All returns to the Earth in good time. I repack the hole I’ve dug and remain on my knees for a few more minutes. The Earth, our symbol of life, our living organism.

These are the most sacred of symbols, the Elements. Water, Air, Fire and Earth all connect us to the Spirit. I stand up slowly, beginning to feel the effects of exhaustion. I turn my head to the right and see a neighbor peeking out the blinds at me. I think to myself that I’m doing nothing strange here, yet tomorrow morning I’ll be the block’s topic of conversation. A Mona Lisa smile crosses my lips as I wave to her and she quickly moves away from the window. I go back into the house, knowing that I’m just the everyday Witch next door.

Alas, All Barrels Have Their Bad Apples

Alas, All Barrels Have Their Bad Apples
image
Author: Ginger Strivelli

It is sad but true; all barrels have their bad apples hidden within.

The Pagan community is not immune to ignorant and/or immoral idiots who call themselves one of us, and then go on to be the worse kind of bad example, spewing bad PR and worse damage in the wake of their stupid if not outright evil behavior.

The problem is, most people do not judge all Muslims by the “bad example” of Osama Bin Laden, or all Christians by the bad example of David Koresh, nor all New Agers by the bad example of the Heaven’s Gate cult. Nonetheless, it seems painfully clear that too often too many people still judge all Pagans and Witches and Wiccans and Druids and other Earth Religionists by the crimes of our few bad apples. Admittedly we’ve had some real rotten-to-the-core ones…and will sadly continue to in the future, most likely. We are open and accepting and loving people and we tend to embrace everyone, even those we shouldn’t. In our inclusive accepting ways we sadly include and accept those who we should not to start with. However, once those bad apples have been pointed out to us, we should stop including and accepting them! That seems simple, but often it is not so clear to Pagan leaders, clergy and communities when faced with a situation where one within their circle surprisingly turns out to be a bad apple.

How can we as a community distance ourselves from these types of bad examples? It is a question we ask each other often. A question we are forced to address way too often when such situations arise where someone within our local Pagan Circles turns out to be an idiot, mentally ill, or actually evil. Woefully, we tend to have some people who call themselves “Pagan” who fit all three categories. Perplexingly, some of our fellow Pagans will balk at denouncing these people…they will urge us to be “understanding” or “forgiving” or “tolerant.” The fact is some things, some people, some behaviors and some crimes are just wrong and not understandable, forgivable, or tolerable. That is a hard lesson: For some of us who have fought long and hard for tolerance and acceptance to realize that everything is not tolerable and acceptable! Some things are just wrong. There is still a line between right and wrong. Just because you are trying to be progressive and open-minded and tolerant doesn’t mean you can just not draw that line between right and wrong…you must draw it somewhere. Even if you draw that line at a different place than the (in your view) narrow-minded greater community, you still must draw the line somewhere!

We in the Pagan community try so hard to be open-minded, we often get so open-minded our brains start to fall out. It is a hard lesson for us to face that we can’t and shouldn’t blindly accept everything and anything, just because we preach acceptance and tolerance of our faith.

An ancient and honorable faith like Witchcraft, Paganism, Druidism, Shamanism, or modern variations thereof, like Wiccans and such, should naturally be accepted; a religion is not intolerable. However, some things, some behaviors, some people are intolerable, and we should stop preaching acceptance when we are faced with such stupidity and/or evilness. Those things do not deserve acceptance. People who practice such behaviors should not be “accepted” or “understood.” They should not be excused with the wand of “tolerance.” They should be exposed, exiled, and executed in some extreme cases with the Athame of Lady Justice and Lady Karma instead. We real Pagans should not feel obligated to explain or excuse or expunge such behaviors and crimes. We should stand up and loudly and proudly be intolerant in such cases!

The Pagan community’s bad apples range from just the misguided and stupid bruised-apple types to those who are evil mutations of nature and are rotten-to-the-core types… and none of them should be protected or covered up for by the legitimate Pagan community, just because they call themselves one of “us.” That does not make them one of us; it does not make them representative of our religion or our community. However if we stand behind these bad apple bad examples, and “accept” them and embrace them and forgive them, then we should not be surprised when our whole community gets judged by their bad example. What is the greater community to think if we ourselves allow and foster such fools and monsters amongst us? Naturally they will think us all as ignorant and immoral as our fosterlings.

The phrase goes, “One bad apple spoils the barrel;” that is why a good farmer doesn’t let any bad apples stay in any barrel. We as Pagan clergy and leaders need to listen to the wisdom of that farmer. We need to kick such bad apples out of our barrels as soon as we know they are bad. That doesn’t make us “intolerant” or not “accepting;” that makes us a religious group with a code of honor and morals that we hold ourselves to. It is shocking that many of our Pagan clergy and Pagan group leaders hesitate to show this bit of wise leadership. In their defense, often they are trying to be all-accepting and all-inclusive, for they fear being seen as un-PC. Or perhaps they have just become so open-minded their brains are falling out.

Pagans need to encourage their leaders to set limits on what is acceptable and tolerable and what is not. We need to start drawing that line between right and wrong somewhere, instead of just arguing that everyone else has it drawn too conservatively so we are going to erase it altogether. The line is there for a good reason, so when people go over it, we know to stop associating with them and to punish them or see that the greater community punishes them before they cause any more harm to others around them.

We preach, “And ye harm none.” But perhaps we should add, “And ye let no one else do harm either.”

I Am A Witch

I Am A Witch
by Sandi Thomas

When I stand up for myself and my beliefs, they call me a “Witch”.
When I stand up for those I love, they call me a Witch.
When I speak my mind, think my own thoughts, or do things my own way, they call me a Witch.

Being a witch entails raising my children to be strong people

Who have a solid sense of personal and social responsibility

Who are not afraid to stand up for what they believe in
Who love and respect themselves for the beautiful beings they are.

Being a witch means that I am free to be the wonderful creature I am,
With all my own intricacies, contradictions, quirks and beauty.
Being a witch means I won’t compromise what’s in my heart.
It means I live my life MY way. It means I won’t allow anyone to step on me.

When I refuse to tolerate injustice and speak up against it, I am defined as a witch.
The same thing happens when I take time for myself instead of being everyone else’s maid or when I act a little selfish.

I am proud to be a witch! It means I have the courage and strength to allow myself to be who I truly am and won’t become anyone else’s idea of what they think I “should” be.

I am outspoken, opinionated and determined.
By Goddess, I want what I want and there is nothing wrong with that!

So, try to stomp on me, try to douse my inner flame, try to squash every ounce of beauty I hold within me. You won’t succeed.

And if that makes me a witch, so be it. I embrace the title and am proud to bear it. I love this, I can call myself a witch now and not feel bad about it!

SO MOTE IT BE!

image

I AM A WITCH

Getting My Husband to Accept My Religion

Author: Scáithshúilóir

I have believed in the Wiccan Way since I was perhaps seven or ten years old. It wasn’t until I was thirteen that I began to more wholeheartedly follow the Old Way. I hadn’t done much research, regrettably, and yet looking back on old writings of rituals and dances, songs, poems, that had, at the time, seemed to have nothing to do with the Craft, really did. It was as though the Goddess and the God had been in my blood from day one (for Christianity had always felt “icky” to me, as though I were living a horrid lie that simply wouldn’t go away no matter how much I told the truth) .

I knew what I was, who I was, and what I wanted to do to show the world my beliefs.

However, in my eighth grade year, I was pulled into a weird cult group at my school and while the path we followed as akin to Wicca it was not all the same time. The gods and goddesses we followed were more or less made up, and when I met my current husband at the end of ninth grade after Hurricane Katrina and his friend whom wanted to practice Wicca and turned to me for information, I gave my husband’s friend the information of my cult from middle school versus the true information of the Craft.

My husband went online to verify the information and when it didn’t match up, he went rather nuts. So to this day, I’m still living up to that “lie.” I’m tainted and as are my beliefs.

Now, though he lets me keep my altar up (rather ignorant I’m guessing of what it stands for) and lets me wear my Goddess pendant and pentacle medallion, I know he fights me on practicing my beliefs openly. He seems unable to understand that when one says Wiccans believe in magick, it isn’t necessarily that we believe we can make the wind blow, or flowers grow, or move things with our minds, but rather that we take negative energy morph it into positive energy and through Circles and rituals and spells and the like we channel that positive energy to influence our world and through our positive thoughts and the like change how we do things and how our world is around us.

Yet… I don’t know. It’s hard because every time I bring up Wicca, he tells me “you’re not Wiccan” but I think it’s more because he’s in denial. Like, I saved something from a website that had a good Mabon ritual that I wanted to use come next month and he said, “So you’re looking up Wiccan things to buy online.”

I said, “No, I saved the site because it had a good ritual.”

He didn’t seem mad and didn’t argue with me. So, I guess it’s more of a gradual transition. My friend from years ago, Cael, did a tarot reading for me and said that there are two paths before me and only one reaches home. I’m torn between which path is the right one to take but I’m too stubborn to give up the fight.

I’m not sure exactly what to do.

I’ve prayed consistently to the Goddess and the God to guide me, to allow my husband, whom I would give my life for, who I believe the Goddess and the God gave to me personally, to accept my beliefs. I don’t want him to practice with me. I understand and accept fully that he doesn’t believe what I do, yet… I wish he’d extend the same kindness to me.

I guess I’d be more truthful if I said that there are some aspects of Wicca that I follow. I believe that faeries are lesser, almost demi-gods that are more or less spirits of the Earth manifested in plants, flowers, etc. I’ve already stated my thoughts/beliefs on magick.

I’m an eclectic Witch, but more or less I guess I’d be traditional in the sense that I worship the Goddess and the God, I only call upon Them in my rituals. Though I acknowledge all the other gods and goddesses of the various pantheons, I feel as though it more respectful to speak directly to the “head honchos” of the Way. That may just be me. I don’t believe in love potions, healing spells on myself, or things like that.

I think it is horribly against the Rede to do anything that might be considered “personal gain.” I believe in working for the things in my life, not use the magick given to me in ways to make it a faster process, just to give me a hop in my step.

I’m beautiful the way I am, the Goddess wouldn’t have made me such if I wasn’t truly beautiful. I love women and men equally; I don’t think one sex is better than the other. The Goddess and the God manifest in each of us, so no one is more perfect than the other.

I accept others beliefs, for the Rede bids us “Abide the Wiccan Law ye must/ in perfect love and perfect trust.” I follow the Rede as best I can, but like all humans I mess up.

But I’ve digressed from my general point. I only want to be accepted. I wish I could reach a mutual understanding with my husband. I love my faith and I love the Goddess and the God, and to not worship them every night by opening a circle and simply meditating with Their presence beside me, it’s almost painful.

Goddess and God willing my husband will accept my religion as I have undoubtedly accepted his. But as I’ve mentioned before in above paragraphs, it’s still a debated issue. I hope the gradual transition works out in the end. And I hope it comes to a close soon. I can’t take much more of this. It’s killing me.

The Magick is in the Witch…Not the Bitch

Author: Phoenix Forestsong

I recently placed myself in a position where I had to “explain myself” to a non-magickal person. Surprisingly, this situation planted a very interesting seed into the fertile soil of my mind. Ultimately that seed has culminated in this essay, minus the offensive title. Without getting into irrelevant details, the conversation essentially boiled down to “I don’t care what you say, Magick doesn’t work because I refuse to believe in it.”

Yup. That statement is one hundred percent factually true. Magick only works if you open yourself to it first, even if you don’t believe but still accept the possibility, then Magick can move in your life. A non-magickal person or, to upset those witches that take themselves way too seriously, a Muggle who “does not believe”, but “refuses to believe” will not be knowingly influenced by Magick. The key here is in the word knowingly. Magick is life and Magick is energy, thus all that lives is filled with the energy of Life; whether it knows, believes, or denies the possibility of Magick, the human spirit is still affected by Magick.

The problem that most non-magickal people have with Magick, aside from centuries of brainwashing by Christianity, is the concept of a binary world. The concept of a binary world is anathema to traditional stratified religions where there is Earth, Heaven, Hell, and only The Creator and The Destroyer can manipulate “Magick” to make things happen. Even then, it is only good and “Holy” when that power comes from God or Jesus, and “evil”, “unnatural”, or “Satanic” when it comes from any other source, for as we all know, that which is not exclusively from the domain of God, comes from the Devil’s own hand.

To Wiccans and pagans there are two worlds that make up our lives. There is the physical and material world that simultaneously and conterminously coexists with the spiritual world, which is the world of energy, the world of magick. When we see the forest, we see the physical world with trees, rocks, leaves, streams, and forest creatures; however, we also see the energies that these seemingly simple physical things are made of. It is natural to see this world and to live in this world; in fact, from the moment of birth we are completely opened up to the True World. As we gradually learn more about the “Real World”, the exclusive world of the physical, we do so ignorant of the natural abilities that we were born with. Thus, the situation creates a disconnect within us where “something” is missing, but we’re not quite sure what.

The Witch

The Witch, The Wise, A Wise One, or whatever name we are known by, changes neither the responsibilities nor dedication that it takes to become a Witch. When you first began to follow your path, there was a tremendous amount of information that had to be learned, a lot of books to read, and a ton of thinking, meditating, and writing that needed to be completed before you really had even the slightest clue of just what you were doing. However, setting aside your confusion you pressed on, slowly coming to master the basic talents required by the Craft. You can now raise power, know your correspondences for candles, herbs, and gemstones. More than likely you have delved into divination with the Tarot, a pendulum, or Runes.

In any event, you are a Witch and it took a lot of thought and effort to, not only learn and master your skills, but to acquire the right philosophy and spirit to actually put them to use. It is the same as a computer technician who spends long hours in class working for a Bachelor’s degree. Though some of what will be learned may seem pointless at the time, overall it has taken at least four years to learn enough of the basics of Computer Science to be proficient at your chosen field. While you may not be an expert in every area of computer technology, you are pretty damn good when it comes to identifying, troubleshooting, and repairing a computer whenever it fails…it’s all fundamentals to you now.

For the IT Professional, the medium that is best used to faithfully execute their duties is the Internet. Obviously I use this profession for the example because, well, write what you know. I have the B.S. Degree, I’ve had several technical positions, including a management position and a consulting business, and so I have witnessed and experienced the IT field from several different angles. I would regularly run into computer programs that I’ve never even heard about prior to accepting the client. So I would research.

I would hit the Internet, learn more about this new technology, and I would test it out prior to taking any drastic action. I taught myself how to operate that computer program, usually better than the employees who had to use it on a daily basis. The point is that I didn’t know it before, I recognized the fact, did the research, got the hands on experience, and incorporated new, albeit somewhat situational, knowledge into my life. I had to make an effort to grow, to learn, to develop something within myself in order to learn this new skill.

How does this have any relationship to Wicca? Imagine that your sister is in a relationship with one real bad dude. When you do see her, which rarely ever happens, she always wears clothing and makeup that conceal the abuse. When you say something about it she gets worried, not angry, and begs you to stay out of her life. Just this past Thanksgiving she missed the traditional family meal, so you decided to stop by her house and check everything out. She answers the door in tears, blood streaming from her broken nose. She tells you, panic blazing from her eyes that she broke her nose falling down the stairs and that everything is all right. Don’t worry; just go home she’ll be fine.

Sure. What do you do? Right off the top of your head the best solution is to call the police. If they can’t (or won’t) do anything, then call the YWCA, even a local church with a women’s outreach group, someone who is trained to handle domestic violence. So, once you’ve called the cops, and no one presses charges, and the beatings continue, and you see your sister less and less often, in greater agony at each and every meeting. What do you do?

You are a Witch, you know the basics inside and out, you have the Rede, and you have a very desperate need. Using the Rede as your guide, you begin to peruse the Internet and your own Magickal library to research how to safely and permanently get rid of this guy. You find the best way is through a spell of binding placed on him (‘An it harm none…’An he IS harming someone) so that he will be unable to harm your sister in any way followed by a spell of protection placed on your sister. The research completed, you hit up your local craft shop or Wally World and get what you need for the ritual. You create the necessary components required for your ritual, prepare the ritual, work the ritual, raise power, empower the spell with your most desperate need, and fire it off into the Aether, knowing with all certainty that it has already worked.

When a computer guy fixes a computer, he or she knows that it is fixed because there is a very noticeable and measurable change in the machine. Mainly, that change is that the computer now works, however, in more complicated computers, such as Internet Servers, the change may not be drastically noticeable as the computer is not running just one or two applications like your PC, it is executing thousands at a time. An adjustment here and a tweak there will create noticeable results; however, it takes patience and experience to notice those changes.

When a Witch fixes a situation, he or she knows that it is fixed because there is a very noticeable, yet subtle change in the situation. As our “Fundamentals” are not well-documented scientific skills but rather are naturally-born abilities that, once trained, unlock greater levels of perception in the Witch, we notice the change in energy before the event actually moves in that direction. Two very important rules to remember are: “Magick always follows the path of least resistance” and “Energy always occurs before motion.”

Energy occurs before motion is an accepted scientific law. Simply look to the famous Sir Isaac Newton and his three marvelous and Magickal laws of motion. The First Law of Motion, which is the only one we’re interested in, states that an object in motion will stay in constant uniform motion and an object at rest will remain at rest unless acted upon by some external force, with force being kinetic energy.

To simplify even further, things tend to do what they were already doing unless some outside force influences it. Thus, the ball just sits there and does nothing until you kick it, which is the application of kinetic energy. Thus the bastard will remain abusive (an A-hole in motion) until some outside force (emotion, Magick, POLICE) pushes him (and his energy) onto another constant, uniform course, which hopefully leads straight to a jail cell and a karmic reward.

Now, I know all you eggheads out there are just drooling about the big flaw in my argument. I can hear it right now, it goes something like this…Dude, that only applies to an object with constant mass, not to something that can grow or shrink, thus changing its mass and, potentially, its momentum and direction! That is what is so cool about the flaw; the first law only ALWAYS works on things, static things, things that don’t change and people their situations are dynamic.

In the world of spirit, we’re not simply bundles of energy floating around without thought, without direction. Hell no! People are driven, motivated, self-directed, and above all else, highly intelligent and sentient individuals. We steer ourselves through life; our Spirit hops into the driver’s seat, takes the wheel, puts the pedal to the metal, slams on the break, grinds the transmission, and tries to go where it wants to go. Magick, like a sudden gust of wind upon the interstate or two tons of rolling steel smacking fatally into you, still affects your motion. The difference between a gust of wind pushing your car and the horror of a traffic fatality is force, which is energy.

In Magick, it is a disciplined and focused Will that sets the direction of the spell, and it emotion and desire that give our spells force, “kinetic energy”, the kick. Correspondences naturally add additional power to the magick, thus increasing the force of the spell. The energy is raised, the desire for change churns at the heart of the spell, waiting to be let loose, the spell is directed, it’s energy changing to comply with the Will of the Witch, transforming into what it needs to become to do its job. The spell is let loose, it’s aim is true and the force behind the spell is mind-shatteringly intense. You ground, center, thank your Deities, and close out your circle, cleaning up along the way. You listen for the phone.

An hour passes, you near nothing. Two hours pass, still nothing. After four hours you have to sleep, the ritual was too much of a draining process to keep sleep over the horizon for much longer. One day goes by, nothing, two, three, five, still nothing. You stop by her house but she won’t open the door, she keeps the chain latched and hides her face in the safety of shadows. You know. You’re not upset; you’re pissed. “’An it harm none…” as your first thought is to personally explain Newton’s Laws of Motion using the example of his face as the object with your fist as the application of kinetic energy, which would technically violate that whole “harm none” thing. As Plan A won’t really work out, you fall back to Plan B and call the Police who rush out to arrest the guy who, surprisingly, actually gets charged, convicted, and sees the inside of the Pokey for a while.

The Bitch

Oh! I see. You spent all that time worrying and worshiping the Devil, and all you had to do was call the Cops. See! Magick doesn’t work! Tee-hee! Tee-hee! Sure, the Police were called and it was the Police who dragged the human filth out of the house and into a cruiser, but they had already been called before without any result. Now, there is a noticeable result. Notice that the spell took time to work; it could have taken months even! Why?

The Jerk is self-motivated, self-directed, and self-centered, thus instead of a ball of rock floating idly in space, he is a jerk behind the wheel of car and he’s going wherever he wants to God Dammed go! Your Sister, for her own reasons, was attracted to him which drew her closer to him, the distance between them lessened and he began to influence her. The proximity of their paths and the momentum of his desire and his will to be abusive does not simply stop and cease to be because one wishes for it too. It stops because some outside force, some outside energy, slammed full-force into him and pushed him in another direction. The spell of protection cast upon your sister, it too slammed into her life, pushing her away from his abuse.

Now, neither the Jerk nor your Sister were ever aware of your spell, so to their knowledge nothing abnormal ever occurred. However, Magick always follows the path of least resistance. The Jerk, being a physical guy, liked his drink and he liked women, but when he got drunk he would get violent. It was his nature and he followed his nature. Your sister, after having a half-remembered dream about watching some show on TV last week about fidelity and abuse, was growing more resentful and angry the more she thought about things. It took a few days but when you stopped by the house the tension that had been mounting over the past few days, the stress fractures of two lives being pushed away from each other, were the trigger.

Directly, did you Physically do anything to anyone in that scenario? No. What did you do? You gave a situation, two lives, a necessary push and nature took care of the rest, because Magick follows the path of least resistance. This is a completely fictional story, but one designed to show the mechanics of Magick. While situations for your spells will be different, never doubt its power. Even science has proven that Energy comes before Motion, therefore the mechanics of Magick, the First Law of Magical Motion, is a logical and “provable” concept.

In Land of the Blind…

I walk down the street at noon, a gentle breeze ruffles my hair, trees shimmy and shake their leaves, making a cacophony of sound like hundreds of sheets of paper being torn to shreds. The bright golden sun assaults my eyes as it glares angrily from dingy storefront windows and the hot windshields of boiling parked cars. A sea of people flows around me, or I flow amongst them, I don’t really know and It doesn’t really matter, I’m a part of something.

I come abruptly upon the strangest sight, a plaza full of men, women, and children with blindfolds painfully tight upon their heads, dirty thick padding covers their ears, a cloth gag obstructs their mouths, while filthy rags consist of their clothing. Each and every soul in the plaza sits in silence, suffering etched deep into their faces while one lone man cries loudly above the noise of the city. You strain to hear him over the sounds of construction, but eventually his message is heard.

“Fear! Fear my God! For he has declared this world to be an illusion and all upon to be evil and ill. Repent of your sins, surrender your body, mind, and soul unto me, blind yourself unto the evil illusion of this world and you will be rewarded in your next life.”

Out of a morbid sense of curiosity I wandered into the plaza; I had to know what was going on. Ignoring the absolute stench of the place, I located the preaching man and moved swiftly to him. His blind eyes passed me over, seeing nothing. Questions flooded my mind, yet I remained in control and simply spoke to the man. “What are you doing Sir?” I ask him, “What are all of you doing here?” His answer surprised me, shocking me into an absolute funk.

“My God, My God, My most powerful and omnipotent Lord. He has told me that this world is nothing more than a great illusion, a false reality, and the evil of this place is too great and My God demands judgment. Fire and Death shall rein down from the heavens, the earth will crack and the seas shall heave. The blood of the unsaved shall run like a river of crimson Justice! Join me and blind your eyes, deafen your ears, silence your tongue, and feel the full suffering of the flesh. For only through suffering can we purify our souls in order to gain Paradise! Give your Illusionary life to me and My God, and you will receive wealth and wisdom beyond measure after death.”

It just sounded too good to be true! Blind my eyes, block my ears, silence my tongue, suffer in the flesh, but at least I wouldn’t be dead from fire, death, cracking, or heaving. I was confused.

“Sir, how do you know this to be true? Have you any proof?” His grimy hands rummaged through a tattered burlap sack, quickly withdrawing a badly damaged cassette tape player. “God himself recorded his message for me on this holy artifact. Unfortunately even the most enlightened individuals cannot bear to hear the true voice of God without its perfection causing immediate and violent death. For the mysteries of God are Deadly to the wicked and can only be revealed through suffering in darkness and silence. Join Me! Else you will be punished for your lack of faith for all eternity, for my God is a wrathful God!”

…The One-Eyed Man Will Be King

After that exciting excursion into the world of Sir Isaac Newton and his wonderful First Law of Motion, and a quick escapade to an obviously allegorical plaza filled with walk-ons left over from the filming of Tommy, what was the whole point? There is a morbidly humorous saying: In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man will be king. When we are born, all of us, are born with two eyes, we see both worlds, the world of the physical and the world of energy.

As our world really is a binary world, we are literally being asked to blind one eye in order to become a part of society. Our society is one that is based upon science and Judeo-Christian values. Magick, and any other current scientifically improvable concept, is not “real” because it cannot be measured and it goes against those long-standing values that are so important to our national identity. Although, just because something is not scientifically proven beyond a shadow of a doubt does not mean that it is wrong.

I work magick, you work magick, and millions of people the world over work some kind of Magick. We believe in it because we can feel it, it may not be quantifiable, yet it exists. We believe in Magick because it works, and it works every time we try it. The situation may not be completely resolved, but it will begin to move, slowly at first, but soon it will be defused in no time at all because you gave it a little nudge to knock it out of the way.

The sun still shines its light of love and heat of hope upon the Earth oblivious to the fact that Jim in Accounting absolutely refuses to believe in the Sun’s existence. It still doesn’t change the fact that the Sun is a star and that Jim in Accounting probably could use a long vacation somewhere with sun, sand, and surf. Of course Jim won’t burn on his vacation because he doesn’t believe in the Sun.

When Jim finally returns from his long vacation, he is as red as a steamed lobster. He begins to explain to you how he contracted this strange skin disease at the beach and how it was strange to be at the beach without the Sun. As a Witch, and since Jim is nuttier than a fruitcake by now, you promise to work some magick on his…rare condition. Jim doesn’t believe in Magick and is violently opposed to it. You decide to work a spell on him to alleviate the pain from his sunburn without telling him. He feels better the next day after discovering an exotic cure for his illness…aloe.

Show Me Da Magick!

This essay has been a bit juvenile in its examples, yet the point was not to provide the very best example of a situation, it was to provide the best example of the mechanics of Magick. If you begin to study your own spellcraft, watch where the energy that you send out ends up by feeling for it. You will begin to learn and eventually understand just how Magick, and Life, flows and brings change where it’s needed most. The one fatal mistake that any Witch can make is to give away their power in the face of a challenge. The idea that “I can’t help with that! It’s too tough!” Well, you’re right; you can’t do anything because you have decided that you do not have the power to…so now you don’t.

But, just like the blind man who ignored the visible world, and the overzealous Christian who demands suffering and pain as a sign of submission, their refusal to accept the real world around them doesn’t change the nature of the world around them. It only changes their reactions to that outside stimulus that they detest. A closed-minded individual who refuses to believe in magick can still be swayed by magick, just as the boy who believes himself to invincible can be knocked over by powerful wave. Their refusal to accept does not change the fact that Magick exists, has always existed, and will always exist. The blindness in their eyes does not change the fact that there are Two Worlds, not one, two. Just because a person refuses to see a painting does not mean that it was never painted, it exists in all its intricate beauty, that person simply refuses to appreciate it.

As Witches we walk the world with all our senses developed and alert, this allows us a greater depth of understanding and perception concerning people and situations. We do not walk our Path with our eyes blinded, nor do we walk our Path with one eye closed. We walk our paths with both eyes open; both worlds, the physical and the spiritual are real and readily available to us, each just as real as the other. We have to remember that WE hold the power to create change in the world, it is not something that can ever be delegated to another, it is our power, our will, and our destiny to develop into the individual who we want to be.

Magick, a natural part of life, will always be an influence even on skeptics, for just as matter moves, so does energy. Regardless of denials, misunderstandings, and flat-out lies, one can no more banish Magick than one could Banish the oceans, it is a natural part Life, just like the rising and setting of the sun and the migration of birds in the Winter. It’s natural, it exists, and nothing and no one can ever change that.

Blessed Be,
-Phoenix Forestsong

You, Your God, and Your Future

Author: Frost
I have been with the Pagan community for nearly a decade, notably unguided. I have been fortunate to find friends who are Pagan or open to pagan thought. In that time, I have become a mentor to many of them.

Our Coven recently went through an ideological split during a time when we were trying to restructure. This split made some things better and some things worse.

Throughout the split and in the time since, many of the members have been struggling with their faith. I had been doing the best I could to regain some manner of order, to prevent the crisis of faith that would allow such a split to happen; but I ultimately failed. As such, I was stuck with many practitioners looking for something to do and a declining faith to do it with.

As a result, I sent out the following, and after realizing that others in the community may need to hear these words, I have chosen to also post it here:

I feel compelled to say something as many have made it known they are feeling low. There is but one thing that has remained true for me these past nine years, the nine years which I have followed my path. That one thing is this: my life, however meaningless, mundane, boring, and painful it is now, will come to mean something in the end.

What I mean to say is this: You have been placed upon this earth for a reason. That reason is known to someone but will be kept from you until the time of your death. I believe that at this point, you will reflect upon that life and come to the same understanding that so many before have. That understanding will be unique to you and your own experience, but will go something like this:

I made a difference. I changed a life, and so, I changed the world.

How have you changed someone today? Have you yet or will it be later in the day? Did you teach them a skill, or help them with a task? Did you learn something that will later save lives?

When it all seems so pointless to you, think about the bigger picture.

I once found myself asking my God for just one thing: There are very few things that we do in life that we set out to do. In the end, it’s the little things that gain us the profound legacy that we all yearn for. The one thing that we all manage is the one that we may never see. That achievement is the difference that we make in another human being.

If in your life, you make a difference in one person’s life, then you may die with a legacy. If we teach a skill we leave a larger legacy. If we listen to a problem, we have created a solution. It’s the little difference that we make that lend a hand to large means.

If there were one thing that I could ask my lord for, one thing above all else, it would be to make a difference, if only one person at a time. I would die having been fulfilled in life. The difference is my wish, my dream, and my will.

In a bit more specific request, I will leave you with this: I was born and baptized Lutheran, and still hold some beliefs of that faith. Jehovah and I still chat about my problems, but Odin has taken me in and taught me.

The relationship you have with your god is personal, on which is never to be questioned by another. But we are complex individuals, and just as we have a handful of doctors for each special problem, we too have a hand full of gods waiting to grant us powers. So long as we believe in them then the depth of the relationship is irrelevant. The links exist.

Faith, and in turn religion, exist in a part of us that is neither logical nor understandable. Our Gods make it logical and understandable. They help to fill the void we feel, the feeling of security, feelings of safety. Next time you are alone and afraid, feel the presence of your God all around you and experience a new feeling of safety.

It is safety and security that we all yearn for. The millionaire behind the multi million dollar security system has the same security that I have with my God. Odin has my back, so to speak. That’s not to say that he will never let me get hurt, never let me feel sorrow. He will not save me from the grasp of all things evil. He will keep me safe though, when it counts.

That narrow miss by the car on the road, running five minutes late and avoiding a wreck. He will keep me safe when it counts.

One thing we must all remember is that the love that our hearts have for our Gods must not be perfect, but it must be forgiving. Our Gods have Their purpose for us and They will get us there however best They can. We just need to have faith in the end and the means will fall in to place.

For those of you clutching at straws, examine what you have done, and what you can be doing.

For those of you clutching at faith, keep with it and it will keep with you.

From one troubled person to another, blessed be on this night.

This message was just what my practitioners need to pick up the pieces and get back together. I felt it was important to share this with the rest of you and maybe I can help some one else.

Our future lies with in our Gods and us.

My legacy is still to be writ as is all of ours. Let us then be together in our community of faith. I hope this allows someone to make the decision they had been putting off.

‘Till I find deem it necessary to write again,

Blessed Be

Frost
The Covenant
Order of the Gual
Temple of Odin

It’s me again…….

I have a ton of comments in the back and I have been trying to answer some of them. That is why I am running so late on my daily postings. One post so of struck me that the rest of you might be thinking the same thing. It involved me not being open. That it would be nice that I opened up more with my readers and let you know what I think and how I feel. Witches are very private people. We aren’t suppose to reveal any of our practices, rituals or beliefs to the mundane world. In fact there is a law that states this very fact. I have been open for several years about being a witch. Especially since I got on the internet in 1999. I have been criticized and took a lot of heat about what I do. I have lost good friends. At the time I thought they were good friends come to find out all they wanted to do is stab me in the back and cut my throat at the same time. What there motivates were I don’t know? Also you couldn’t reveal your real name or your dead parent’s name either. I had a dedication page to my mother and my sister. They threw a fit because other witches might use this against me, do something to my relatives even after their dead. I had to keep my shield up 24 hours a day. I had to triple protect my house. And I had to do this because of my so-called friends. To my face they supported everything I was doing, but secretly that was another story.

I am just starting to feel comfortable here. Please have patience you will get to know me I promise. I made a clean break with those so-called friends. I even disappeared for about three months. I had to get my head on straight again and focus on what I had to do for the Goddess.  After the three months was up, I had a little voice tell me that I ought to check out the blogs. So I did and I was lost as a black cat, lol! I got to reading and figuring this out and that out (I believe I had a little help, lol). It started to make sense. I got my confidence up and decided many I can do this or at least give it a shot. I did and here we are today.

As far as me breaking the Law about not discussing our beliefs, rituals, spells and so on. I don’t believe I am doing anything wrong. I am doing the Goddess’ work. She watches over me every day and She knows what I put on this blog. So if it wasn’t suppose to be here I figure it wouldn’t.

Most forget in the Old Days that was the only way people had to communicate was by word of mouth. During the Burning Times, if our Religion had when underground then it would have been lost. Witchcraft has always been a word of mouth Religion. Just thought of it, I am going to post the Ordains again.

Well I guess I better hush for now……….but before I go you want to try something a little new, how about “Spell Saturday?” What do you think? I like the idea. Spells are my second nature, hee, hee,hee!)

She grabs her broom and her trust familiar and their off

When Your Pet is More Than A Pet – Familiars and Avatars

Author: Bronwen Forbes

As a prologue to this, you need to know that Herne has been my patron God since I was nine years old. You don’t need to know, but you’ll probably figure out by reading this (if you haven’t already) that sometimes I’m a little slow to notice the obvious.

A few months after adopting my red and white beagle mix Herman, I was trying to sleep in one Saturday morning when I began to idly wonder, “There are so many Goddesses with dogs as part of their symbolism. I wonder what Gods are associated with dogs, too?” And then it hit me like a two-by-four to the forehead. Herne, Lord of the Wild Hunt, is very much associated with dogs, especially red and white hunting dogs, than you very much. (I warned you I’m a little slow sometimes) .

Needless to say, sleep was no longer an option. I sat up and looked at Herman (who had spent the night, as he usually did, asnooze at my side) who was already staring at me with a definite, “took you long enough to figure it out” expression.

And just like that, I not only had a familiar, I had an avatar.

I’m defining “avatar” here not as a recent hit movie or a small picture that represents you on various blogs or discussion boards, but as the earthly representative of a deity. And for the love of me, I hadn’t a clue what to do with mine.

Four months later, we adopted a German Shepherd mix named Katie – and lo and behold, she was also what my husband likes to call a “God-touched” dog. But unlike Herman who was also my familiar (notice the past tense; I still miss him) , Katie let us know pretty quickly that she had no interest whatsoever in being my husband’s familiar, but would happily attend her Goddess Nehelennia’s tasks of safe travel, healing and commerce. Period.

Since acquiring Herman and Katie in 2001, I’ve alao gotten the clue what to do, not just for my special dogs, but for anyone else who may wake up one morning and see deity shining through the eyes of their pet.

First and foremost, and I know this sounds obvious, you have to keep treating your pet like a, well, pet. Your animal companion is your spiritual and or magickal support (familiar) or a little bit of deity (avatar) but he still needs proper food and water, adequate shelter, regular veterinary checkups, exercise, training, vaccinations, etc. After all, it’s not like the Gods can or will take care of your pet for you.

But once the regular, responsible pet ownership duties are taken care of with your familiar or avatar, there are still some things you need to think about to keep your relationship with your animal companion – and your deity – as smooth and fulfilling as possible.

1. Remember that, despite her spiritual role in your life, your pet is still going to act like an animal. Herman used to drive me crazy with this. He was a daily reminder of my relationship with my patron deity, helped me work through some serious ritual issues, was a whiz at helping new students ground and center simply by sitting in their laps during ritual – and he was also a master escape artist. He could climb or dig under any chain link fence, and did so on a pretty regular basis.

Katie, a born healer, is also a big dog and an unrepentant counter-surfer. I can’t begin to count how many times I packed my lunch, left the kitchen to get dressed for work, and came back to find my lunch bag and food containers in Katie’s crate and my ex-lunch in her stomach. She may be God-touched, but she’s still a dog!

2. Give your familiar and/or avatar full autonomy regarding ritual attendance. This includes personal workings, small group rituals, festivals, and rites of passage. Shortly after my Saturday morning revelation about Herman, my husband and I took him with us to visit my parents for the weekend. While we were there, I helped my parents bury the ashes of our old family cat in the side yard garden – an understandably emotional activity. Herman was in the back yard, separated from me by a picket fence. He could see me through the fence, but couldn’t get to me. As my father dug a hole for the ashes, Herman went nuts, for want of a better word. Instead of pursuing squirrels (his usual pastime in my parents’ backyard) , he was throwing himself against the fence and barking frantically, trying to get to me. I should have stepped over the fence, opened the gate, and allowed Herman to join the small ritual. After all, he only wanted to do his job.

There have also been instance and rituals where Herman or Katie did *not* want to attend a particular ritual, and we quickly learned to “listen” to their opinions – rather like knowing that it doesn’t feel right to take a certain tarot deck with you when you go do readings at a community event. We learned this lesson the hard way when we took Katie to a ritual she clearly didn’t want to go to and she had a seizure.

3. Give your pet enough down time. Just as you can’t be in ritual 24/7, it’s unrealistic to expect your pet to be “on, ” i.e. actively acting as a divine representative or helping you with your spiritual work all the time. Don’t bug him to help you if he clearly doesn’t feel like it – the fact that he’s asleep or ignoring you are clear signs that he “doesn’t feel like it.”

If you find yourself needing extra protein, water or sleep after a working or ritual, offer some to your familiar or avatar as well.

If you have a pet that also enhances your spiritual practice or connection with your deity, you have been given a gift beyond price. Very few animals, at least in my experience, can do this, and if you get one or even two in a lifetime, you have truly been blessed. It’s also not something you can actively look for; it’s like love (actually it *is* love) – the more you try to find that special animal, the less likely you are to succeed.

Be patient. If and when you’re ready, the right animal will come.

When You Might Not Want to Come Out of the Broom Closet

Author: Bronwen Forbes

A great deal has been written about the benefits and advantages of coming out as Pagan to your family, friends and co-workers, both here on Witchvox and in other places. Living an honest life, helping Paganism be more accepted as more people say “I know a Pagan, ” and taking pride in who and what you are – these are all excellent reasons to be open about your faith. However, as a friend of mine reminded me recently, coming out is never something you do just once. You continue to choose with every new day, every new situation and every new person you meet whether or not to say anything about your spiritual path.

Which means, of course, that there are some valid reasons to never come out to anyone, or only to a select few in specific situations. For example (obvious as it is) , if you’ve recently begun the process of legally severing your marital bonds with someone and, before the divorce is final and all child and property custody disputes have been resolved, and you realize in the middle of all this that you’re Pagan, it would probably be in your best interests not to announce your new path until after the dust has settled.

Another obvious example is on the job. I hate to sound like an alarmist, but in this economy, just because you think it’s safe to be openly Pagan at work doesn’t mean it *is* safe. I lived for years in the Baltimore-Washington DC area where no one, not even my employers, cared if I was Pagan or not.

I left DC for a Midwest town that had a university – and a very prominent journalism school. As leaders of a training coven (consisting mostly of college students including one journalism major) , my husband and I were pretty good candidates for “interview a witch for the Halloween edition of the school paper.” It happened every year. While I wasn’t exactly out at work, between my regular appearance in the university’s school newspaper and occasional mentions in the city’s paper for being on various Pagan-related discussion panels, I wasn’t exactly hiding my religion, either. Five minutes on Google would have told my employers everything they wanted to know about it. I don’t think it even occurred to them to check.

Unfortunately, I took this lack of interest in my religious affairs for granted when we moved to a tiny town in New Mexico and I got a job at the local (much smaller) university in the admissions office. We also tried to help revive the campus Pagan student group which had been prominently featured in the local paper a year earlier, when every Baptist minister in the county denounced its existence (which should have been a clue to me to keep my flapping mouth shut) . Connections were made among the students, and next thing I knew it was two weeks before Samhain and the editor of the school paper was interviewing me. It was a good, well-written article, and no one in my office said a word about the fact that I’d just outed myself to the entire campus. I didn’t think any more about it.

Until I realized that my immediate supervisor was quietly and subtly going out of her way to make my workday a living hell – and had been since the article appeared in the paper.

For example, whatever I did wrong was discussed loudly and in public, while my co-worker, a Catholic, got a bit of quiet privacy when her errors were pointed out (We started the same day and did the exact same job) . I mentioned it to my boss and was told it was all my imagination and that I was “too sensitive.”

Eventually I quit; I’m convinced that if I hadn’t, I would have been fired. Was it because of the article? I’ll never know for sure, but in retrospect my decision to come out of the broom closet was, in this instance, a pretty poor one.

Sometimes, though, the decision of whether or not to come out as Pagan is not so obvious. Family and close friends, for example, are the people you most want to accept this part of you, and as a result your prediction of their reaction to your news may be skewed; you so very much need them to be happy for you that you could project the reaction you want onto them.

I’ve asked around, and a lot of my friends suggest telling a close sibling, aunt or uncle and see how they react before having the “Big Talk” with Mom and Dad. But – and this is hard – telling your nearest and dearest may not only be a bad idea, you may not know it’s a bad idea until it’s too late.

Back in the mid 1980s when I first realized I was Pagan, I told my parents. I had plenty of solid, valid reasons for doing so: 1) I was about to be divorced by my first husband over my Paganism and I thought they deserved to know the truth. 2) I had a strong feeling, even in the early days, that my spiritual path was going to be a major part of my life (turns out I was right) and I couldn’t see cutting my parents out of that much of my world (we were a lot closer back then) . 3) My parents are highly educated people with five college degrees between the two of them, have been professional performers most their lives (i.e. used to odd, artistic, fringe folk) , and are reasonably liberal in their personal and political views. In other words, if there are (or were) two Christians (Episcopalians) more likely to accept their daughter’s new spiritual path with open-mindedness and grace, I don’t know them.

At first it looked like I made a good decision to come out to my folks. My father, a college librarian, found a copy of Starhawk’s The Spiral Dance on my recommendation and read it. He said that while he’d never be a Pagan, he was struck by how “poetic it is.”

Fast forward a decade or so. In the intervening years my religion has been referred to as “that Pagan b*llsh*t” more than once. I’ve been told, “We’re just so relieved you’ve managed to stay away from the drugs” (What drugs? Did I miss the memo on rampant drug use in the Pagan community?) , and treated to this day like a not-quite-bright teenager by – you guessed it – my intellectual, liberal parents.

Was coming out to my parents a good idea? Probably not.

Knowing what I know now, would I do it today? No.

The decision to tell or not to tell someone you’re Pagan is a deeply personal one, and not in any way something you should be pressured into. Coming out as Pagan is not “cool” or something to do for the shock it might cause the listener. Although it’s true that the more of a presence we are in society the less “other” we become, and the more our faith is accepted in the world.

But we need to be aware that sharing our religious choice with anyone or everyone is not always the best solution. We no longer need to worry about witchfinders, hangings and other historically dire consequences for openly celebrating our faith, but we do need to think very hard about our livelihoods, our children and the feelings of the one we’re outing ourselves to before we choose to share this most personal information.

Coven Life: What I Have Learned

Author: Sleeping Moon
I started practicing witchcraft or the ancient path as I prefer to call it, back in 1996 or so. At first I was solitary, read my homework, started working with spells and rituals. Thought it interesting when my cats would act a bit crazy during that time. But, felt something was lacking. I wanted other people to talk to, to practice with. And to make sure I was doing every thing correctly. Because I couldn’t “see” energy with my real eyes, I had doubts.

Let’s face it, when we start off (especially when we are young) and the way Hollywood portrays magicks, we, or at least I thought that’s how it was supposed to be. And I was hoping that’s the way it was supposed to be. When that didn’t happen, I didn’t get discouraged. In fact, quite the opposite. I practiced more. To the point where I was calling the quarters just about every night of the week. I also wanted to understand the difference in feeling the energy as well, both while in circle and out of it.

After a year and a half or so, I had found a store in town that solely based their market on the Craft. Of course I was thrilled! (I think I heard about it through hear say.) I of course spread the word to just about any one that would listen what I did and what I was looking for. Both in personal life and in my professional life. I felt like I wasn’t the only witch in town and the only way to find people of like minds was to open my mouth.

When I first walked into the store, I was mystified and in awe. But was a wee bit disappointed in how small it was. I browsed around for a time, and then got the courage to ask the woman behind the counter if she knew of any covens or groups in the area. She was very sweet and took my number. She didn’t give me any definite information. Of course, I left the store a little disheartened that I didn’t have a group to contact me right away.

I’m not sure how much time passed after that, but that nice woman behind the counter did in fact call me. It just so happened to be around Samhain time and that she had her cousin who is a priest, come up from the city to hold a Samhain celebration. She asked me if I would like to attend.

Needless to say, I was on cloud nine and of course accepted.

That first Samhain celebration was a magickal one for me. We held ritual, the priest did his thing, and we blessed and consecrated some items and did a bit of fire scrying. But, during this session instead of being drawn to the fire (like I normally am) I was drawn to the sky. I did end up seeing something that concerned me and asked the priest about it later. The moon was full and round in her splendor that night, but not only seeing that moon, I saw three others as well. Of course I knew what the three moons meant; maiden, mother, crone, but was flabbergasted about the fourth. When he heard this I recall his eyes growing wide and he said most don’t see the fourth moon and it meant that it was the dark moon or hence the dark goddess. Then, in the next breath, he told me witchcraft wasn’t for me.

Boy, was I literally floored. Why would some one tell me that most witches don’t see the fourth moon and then tell me that it’s not my rightful path? Didn’t make much sense. But some how, since he was the only clergy I knew, I persuaded him to teach me. I worked with him for a bit over a year, he would come up from the city quite often and a friend and I would go down there as well. Life was good.

Until he started discouraging me. He was telling me things that didn’t sit well with me and said that he wasn’t comfortable teaching me any more. Plus a big thing that I didn’t care for was it was his way or the high way. (I find that quite often in more distinguished groups.) So after some time, I told him that I was leaving, as I was uncomfortable with his teachings. (He also told me once that he would not initiate me through the great right! Which of course turned me completely off!) So hence I left. My friend did continue working with him, which I didn’t discourage.

After that, I did work solitary for a time until I found Witchvox. I also found my next coven. Or I hoped it would be. It was several hours away, but I didn’t mind the drive because it wasn’t often. This group did a bit of Pow-Wow magick, which I did like. Then I started speaking up a bit more and telling a few individuals what kind of entities I am drawn to (the fae) and what I was currently working with at the time. (It was more of a neutral energy than a positive one…but NOT negative.) When they found out, I was kicked out. Only light energies where allowed there and they wouldn’t tolerate any thing else. (And this person wrote about negative entities–go figure!) I never once brought this neutral energy into our circles and was stunned speechless that this would have happened.

I never thought that fellow pagans would be so prejudiced against certain energies…negative ones, understandable but not the one I was dealing with. This entity I do give a lot of credit too because it pulled me out of several dark moments in my life. This being one of them.
Like I said, I enjoyed the groups company, felt connected and thought I felt at home. Wow, did I get a slap in the face! They also didn’t care for the fact that my Matron was Hecate and the god I was working with at the time happened to be Hades. Too much dark, they said. You need to balance their energies in order to have effective magick. Ptah! Maybe for them, but not for me.
So, I was back to solitary once again.

I started to petition to the gods then to find me some good folks to practice with and that I can feel comfortable enough to be myself and not have to worry about stepping on any ones toes. And let’s face it, being kicked out of a coven or group.

I then went to a few open groups, several which were more than 50 miles away and each one didn’t sit right. Most where the ones where I just stood in circle with my hands in the goddess position and let the Priest/Priestess do all the work. I felt like a minion. Even lower than that. Many times, I didn’t even lend my energy because I felt like a ghost. I also didn’t like the fact that they made you where this, or you couldn’t where that. How discouraging!

Then, back in 2004 I got the courage to look for individuals this time and in my immediate area to hopefully start up a group of our own. I had no goal at the time, no set of rules and no doctrine. I just didn’t want to be alone in my quest. Not too long after that, some one did contact me! This person happened to live in a town not to far away and I was thrilled. We met at a local coffee shop and hit it off.

We practiced between the two of us for a time, went to open group functions together and I came to this conclusion: We needed to start a group of our own where people can feel free to practice how they see fit, with minimal rules and regulations. So then, I placed a group add on Witchvox again. About several weeks later, a woman from a neighboring town contacted me and we met up. Then a few more. For several years it was only five of us, but we where comfortable with that.

We started to bond, open up more, did activities out side of the craft and simply enjoyed each other’s company. After a while, we decided we would like to look for more individuals to join our tight nit family. Several came and went, some didn’t work out for us, and we didn’t work out for them. Which of course happens, whether it’s through conflicting personality traits or the group wasn’t right for them. Period. We even tried to get men involved and that turned out to be hairy. (Not saying that men weren’t welcome, it’s just the certain men that wanted to join with us.)
A few months ago we did open our group to two new women and are lovely additions! About a month ago two more joined and fit in quite nicely.

My main rule of thumb here is that this group of mine is open to all paths that follow the ancient ways. So long as we come together on a common ground, can enjoy each other’s company and feel comfortable enough to speak our minds. There is no right way or wrong way in this group and there is no such thing as a designated high priestess. For we all are! We don’t go through degree’s or initiations for that is up to you and your guides/gods to decide and for the simple fact that we learn from each other.

It also stems back to the age-old question: Who initiated the first witch? And if that spirit initiated that witch, why can’t it initiate more of us?

The broader we are in our magicks/paths, the more we can learn from each other. I purposely let each lady take the chance to host a circle/sabbat so we can see how that witch likes to practice her path. And if that lady is interested in a different magickal aspect of the craft, she has a chance to express that interest to the group.

I don’t base acceptance on race, creed or age. But it is a women’s group at this time. Because I feel the wider we are in acceptance of others, the more fun and enlightening the group will be. And the more we can learn from each other.

I feel humbled that I finally found or I should say that the Gods led me in the right direction to this wonderful group of special women. Each one of these ladies holds a place in my heart and I am thankful that each one has come into my life. I have learned much from this experience, continue to learn daily and enjoy every minute that I spend with them.

Coven life can be hard and challenging at times. If we don’t find a common ground, a member has to go or if a problem arises and is not fixable again, member has to go. It’s tough but the positives out weigh the negatives in this case. There is something awesome about connecting with a group of women that you wouldn’t get anywhere else.

I feel that each woman is unique unto herself and that her view of the craft is the same and should be shared with the world. Or in this case, this group.

I am not saying that other groups have it wrong. Absolutely not. I just feel that more structured groups aren’t right for me as I like each individual to feel like she has a voice and that freedom can speak it’s tongue. In this, I have found my path and hope each one of you does as well.

There is something awesome about finding people of like minds that you can feel free enough to be you.

Daughters of the Witching Hill: In Search of Historical Cunning Folk


Author: Mary Sharratt

In 2002, I moved to East Lancashire in northern England—the rugged Pennine landscape that borders the West Yorkshire Dales. My study window looks out on Pendle Hill, famous throughout the world as the place where George Fox received the ecstatic vision that moved him to found the Quaker religion in 1652.

But Pendle Hill is also steeped in its legends of the Lancashire Witches. Everywhere you go in the surrounding countryside, you see images of witches: on buses, pub signs, road signs, and bumper stickers. Visiting friends found this all quite unnerving. “Mary, why are there witches everywhere?” they’d ask me.

In the beginning, I made the mistake of thinking that these witches belonged to the realm of fairy tale and folklore, but no. They were real people. The stark truth, when I took the time to learn it, would change me forever.

In 1612, in one of the most meticulously documented witch trials in English history, seven women and two men from Pendle Forest were executed, condemned on “evidence” provided by a nine-year-old girl and her brother, who appeared to suffer from learning difficulties. The trial itself might never have happened had it not been for King James I’s obsession with the occult. His book Daemonologie—required reading for local magistrates—warned of a vast conspiracy of satanic witches threatening to undermine the nation.

But just who were these witches of Pendle Forest?

Of the accused, Elizabeth Southerns aka Mother Demdike, had the most infamous reputation. According to the primary sources, she was the ringleader, the one who initiated the others into witchcraft. Mother Demdike was so frightening to her foes because she was a woman who embraced her powers wholeheartedly. This is how Court Clerk Thomas Potts describes her in The Wonderfull Discoverie of Witches in the Countie of Lancaster, his account of the 1612 trials:

She was a very old woman, about the age of Foure-score yeares, and had
been a Witch for fiftie yeares. Shee dwelt in the Forrest of Pendle, a vast
place, fitte for her profession: What shee committed in her time, no man
knowes. . . . Shee was a generall agent for the Devill in all these partes: no
man escaped her, or her Furies.

Quite impressive for an eighty-year-old lady! Although she died in prison before she could even come to trial, Potts pays a great deal of attention to her, going out of his way to convince his readers that she was a dangerous witch of long-standing repute. Reading the trial transcripts against the grain, I was amazed at how her strength of character blazed forth in the document written expressly to vilify her.

Mother Demdike freely admitted to being a healer and a cunning woman. Her neighbours called on her to cure their children and their cattle. What fascinated me was not that Mother Demdike was arrested on witchcraft charges but that the authorities only turned on her near the end of her long, productive life. She practiced her craft for decades before anybody dared to interfere with her.

Cunning folk were men and women who used charms and herbal cures to heal, foretell the future, and find the location of stolen property. What they did was illegal—sorcery was a hanging offence—but most of them didn’t get arrested for it. The need for the services they provided was too great. Doctors were so expensive that only the very rich could afford them and the “physick” of this era involved bleeding patients with lancets and using dangerous medicines such as mercury—your local village healer with her herbal charms was far less likely to kill you.

Those who used their magic for good were called cunning folk or charmers or blessers or wisemen and wisewomen. Those who were perceived by others as using their magic to curse and harm were called witches. But here it gets complicated.

A cunning woman who performs a spell to discover the location of stolen goods would say that she is working for good. However, the person who claims to have been falsely accused of harbouring those stolen goods could turn around and accuse her of sorcery and slander. Ultimately, the difference between cunning folk and witches lay in the eye of the beholder.

Intriguingly, Mother Demdike’s family’s charms recorded in the trial transcripts mirror the ecclesiastical language of the Catholic Church, demonised and driven underground by the Reformation. Her incantation to cure a bewitched person, quoted by the prosecution as evidence of diabolical magic, is a moving and poetic depiction of the passion of Christ as witnessed by the Virgin Mary. This text is very similar to the White Pater Noster, an Elizabethan prayer charm Eamon Duffy discusses in his landmark book, The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England: 1400-1580.

It appears that Mother Demdike, born in Henry VIII’s reign, at the cusp of the Reformation, was a practitioner of the kind of quasi-Catholic folk magic that would have been commonplace in earlier generations. The Old Church embraced many practices that seemed magical and mystical. People believed in miracles. They used holy water and communion bread for healing. Candles blessed at the Feast of Candlemas warded the faithful from demons and disease. People left offerings at holy wells and invoked the saints in their folk charms.

Some rituals such as the blessing of wells and fields may have Pagan origins. Indeed, looking at pre-Reformation folk magic, it seems difficult to untangle the strands of Catholicism from the remnants of Pagan belief that had become so tightly interwoven. Keith Thomas’s social history Religion and the Decline of Magic is an excellent study on how the Reformation literally took the magic out of Christianity.

But it would be an oversimplification to say that Mother Demdike was merely a misunderstood Catholic. Although her charms drew on the mystical imagery of the pre-Reformation Church, Mother Demdike and her sometimes-friend, sometimes-rival Anne Whittle, aka Chattox, accused each other of using clay figures to curse their enemies. Both women freely confessed, even bragged about their familiar spirits who appeared to them in the guise of beautiful young men. Mother Demdike’s description of her decades-long partnership with Tibb, her familiar spirit, seems to reveal something much older than Christianity.

In traditional English cunning craft, the familiar spirit took centre stage: this was the cunning person’s otherworldly spirit helper who could shapeshift between human and animal form. Mother Demdike described how Tibb could appear as a golden-haired young man, a hare, or a brown dog. In traditional English folk magic, it seemed that no cunning man or cunning woman could work magic without the aid of their familiar spirit—they needed this otherworldly ally to make things happen.

So how did Mother Demdike, a woman so fierce that none dared meddle with her, come to ruin? The triggering incident reads like the most tragic of coincidences. On March 18, 1612, her young granddaughter, Alizon Device, had a bitter confrontation with John Law, a pedlar from Halifax in Yorkshire.

Moments after their blistering argument, the pedlar collapsed and suddenly went stiff and lame on one half of his body and lost the power of speech. Today we would clearly recognise this as a stroke. But the pedlar and several witnesses were convinced that Alizon had lamed her victim with witchcraft. Even she seemed to believe this herself, falling to her knees and begging his forgiveness. This unfortunate event resulted in the arrest of Alizon and her grandmother. Alizon wasted no time in implicating Chattox, her grandmother’s rival, and Chattox’s daughter, Anne Redfearne. Before long, further arrests of family and friends followed. The rest belongs to the tragic history that ended at Lancaster Gallows in August, 1612.

Although first to be arrested, Alizon was the last to be tried at the Lancaster Assizes. Her final recorded words on the day before she was hanged for witchcraft were a passionate vindication of her grandmother’s legacy as a healer.

Roger Nowell, the prosecutor, brought John Law, the pedlar Alizon had allegedly lamed, before her. Again Alizon begged the man’s forgiveness for her perceived crime against him. John Law, in return, said that if she had the power to lame him, she must also have the power to heal him. Alizon regrettably told him that she wasn’t able to, but if her grandmother, Old Demdike had lived, she could and would have healed him.

Long after their demise, Mother Demdike and her fellow Pendle Witches endure, their spirit woven into the living landscape, its weft and warp, like the stones and the streams that cut across the moors. No one in this region can remain untouched by their legacy. This is their home, their seat of power, and they shall never be banished.


Footnotes:
Further reading:

Owen Davies, Popular Magic: Cunning-folk in English History (Hambledon Continuum)
Eamon Duffy, The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England 1400-1580 (Yale)
Malcolm Gaskill, Witchfinders: A Seventeenth Century English Tragedy (John Murray)
John Harland and T.T. Wilkinson, Lancashire Folklore (Kessinger Publishing)
King James I, Daemonologie, available online: http://www.sacred-texts.com/pag/kjd/
Jonathan Lumby, The Lancashire Witch-Craze (Carnegie)
Edgar Peel and Pat Southern, The Trials of the Lancashire Witches (Nelson)
Robert Poole, ed., The Lancashire Witches: Histories and Stories (Manchester University Press)
Thomas Potts, The Wonderfull Discoverie of Witches in the Countie of Lancaster, available online: http://www.gutenberg.org/catalog/world/readfile?fk_files=230481
Keith Thomas, Religion and the Decline of Magic (Penguin)
John Webster, The Displaying of Supposed Witchcraft (Ams Pr Inc)
Emma Wilby, Cunning Folk and Familiar Spirits (Sussex Academic Press)

Responsible Witch


Author: Donna Caldwell aka Scarlette Winter Rose

What is a witch? Is it, as by common definition, a sorceress, a person bent on evil doings, who casts spells and worships the devil? Is it someone to fear and therefore ostracize, imprison and execute? My answer to these questions is both yes, and no.

Why am I qualified to answer these questions? Because I am a witch, and have been all of my life.

So let’s get those questions answered.

First, a witch is many things. She, or he, as men are witches too, may or may not be a sorceress. Some witches practice no spell craft, but choose only to focus on the worship of nature, and the Goddess and God, providers of all that we are blessed with on this earth.

There are those like myself, who practice sorcery, or magick. And you will find that among witches, those terms, along with numerous others, intertwine for many, while some insist that the term sorcery only applies to black magic. I do not agree, because to me there is no “black” or “white” magick. There is only magick, and it is the intent of the practitioner that determines the direction of the energy used.

When one decides to follow the path of the witch, they are making a commitment that holds many responsibilities, and will find that there is much to learn before any actual casting of spells should be approached.

To quote High Priestess Ly de Angeles, from her book “Witchcraft Theory and Practice”, “Once initiation has occurred, there is no turning back…you will quest all of your life; it is not a thing to do thoughtlessly.”

This is, in part, because our spiritual path, unlike others, states that we are immediately responsible for all of our actions and the results that follow. We cannot lay blame elsewhere for our harmful deeds, whether toward ourselves or to others.

Witches do not believe in the devil, so the idea of our worshipping one is meaningless. If we have acted in a baneful manner, we will not be judged after our body dies, before a single god, but will reap the sowing of our intent while in the present life, and sometimes beyond it, in accordance to the laws of the universe.

This is known among witches as the Threefold Law. It states that any one baneful act by a witch shall be returned upon them three times.

Some, myself included, do not hold strictly to the Threefold Law, but believe that negative use of witchcraft returns upon those liable however many times the universe deems necessary, in order to teach that which must be taught to the practitioner. Think of the old saying “What goes around comes around.”

So witches do have rules? Hell yes!

We abide by that which is known as the Wiccan Rede, a hefty list of guidelines. The most basic and important of these is “And it harm none, do what thou wilt.” Now, just what does that mean?

It means a lot.

We must take care with everything and everyone on this earth, be it the people, the animals, nature, and the planet itself. All is a gift from the Goddess. We must not lie, steal, cheat, or raise war, either with nations, or other people who would condemn us for our beliefs because they differ from their own.

We must work magick responsibly. This means we must prepare for ritual with great thought and patience, being precise, and making sure our efforts do not impose upon another’s will, as that would be baneful.

We must not use mind-altering drugs of any kind before or during ritual. To do so would be against the Rede, as we could bring harm to others and ourselves due to our lack of clear focus.

There are strict rules for summoning energies or “watchtowers”, as we in the Craft refer to them. They are called upon to join and assist in ritual, and must be dismissed at the ritual’s end, in a certain way. Failing to do this can, and most often does, result in negative occurrences long after the ritual is over and those in the circle have gone merrily on their way.

Being in a drugged state would leave those practicing within the ritual circle completely vulnerable to the energies and spirits that have been summoned. To perform spell work correctly, successfully and safely, one must have complete control over their faculties.

Now, how about our reputation?

It has taken hundreds of years for witches to partially recover from the labels placed upon us, and whether we like it or not, our chosen path is one which is looked at by others who still hold to the opinion that we are not following a true spiritual path, but one of pure evil. We must show them differently.

We must act responsibly, respectfully, and never fall into the trap of believing that we are “right” and others “wrong” in their differing beliefs.

We must not boast of powers, or play upon another’s fear of us, thus falling prey to the ego and thereby promoting our own demise, either through personal fault, or by those who would seek to destroy us.

As for that last question, I think I’ll let you, the reader, decide. You have heard from me, a practicing witch, concerning some or our basic beliefs and ways in which we live our lives.

So, what do you think? Should I be feared? Ostracized and imprisoned? Executed?

Some would still answer, “Yes.” My neighbor is one. She has stated on more than one occasion that anyone who practices witchcraft, or her idea of witchcraft, should, in fact, be burned at the stake, twenty – first century or not. With the giant wooden cross she has erected in her front yard, I guess she is preparing for her own ritual….

There will probably always be those who will hate us, out of ignorance and fear. Or perhaps just because we have the courage some of them lack, to follow our own path rather than go along with what is most acceptable in society for the sake of fitting in.

As for myself, I shall continue on the journey my Goddess has provided me, and I shall remain a responsible witch.

Knowing the Gods

Author: Layla Talora Eshe

When I first began my journey into Witchcraft, there was much to learn: history, myths and the proper way to perform spells and rituals. All kinds of new things awaited me. I eagerly delved into any books I could get my hands on and talked to anyone that would listen. I bought book, candles, oils, herbs, wands, bells, cards and anything I could get! And so my knowledge (and witchy stock!) grew.

Throughout the coming year I faithfully did rituals each Full and Dark Moon and celebrated on Sabbats. I performed spells and various other rituals in between. Taking time to research, plan and execute all my workings. I set out the proper tools and said the proper words, and was faithful to my workings. And so my practical experience grew.

What did not grow however, was my relationship with the Gods. I realized that just by simply calling myself Witch or Pagan did not give me that relationship. By doing rituals and spells and reading also did not give me that relationship. This, just like anything else would also require work. I knew that this would not be an easy task, but it was something I felt strongly about. That is what I loved about this path, the fact that I could have a close relationship with my Gods, free from restraint and restriction. I was not about to let this pass me by.

So I set out to know my Gods better, to really understand them and their place in my life. I decided to create daily devotion times to connect with my Gods. In the morning I rise and greet the new day, light a yellow candle and sit near the window as the sun rises, and speak to them.

What I say does not matter, it is not scripted or planned out; it comes simply from the heart. Some days my words are filled with hope and happiness, and some they are filled with sadness and despair. But either way I feel the Gods around me, supporting me, and giving me hope. They are there to comfort me when I need it, but also there to celebrate and be happy as well. I get whatever I need, just by simply asking, and then I can start my day with a fresh perspective.

At noon, I take a few minutes to myself to speak to them once more, discussing my morning, plans hopes and feelings, anything I like. It’s a nice break in my mundane day to reconnect with the Gods, and to take a few minutes out of the rush of jobs and housework to concentrate on my spiritual side and myself. It revitalizes me so that I can tackle the rest of my day.

Before I sleep each night I light a candle and sit near my altar and give thanks for the blessings I have, and sit in quiet reflection of the day, and plan for the next. I get ready for sleep, and wind down from the stresses of the day, this is my time to sit and talk with my Gods. While I do love the talking part I also must remember to stop and to listen to what they are trying to say to me in return.

I think at times we all, myself included, are so wrapped up in the talking and planning and thinking of the days, we forget to simply listen and to be aware of what is around us. Many messages I have received when I finally stop and listen to what the Gods are telling me. For they speak to us in many ways, through dreams and visions, in our minds and our hearts, but most of all we can see them all around us, out in nature.

They are the sun on our face, warming our souls. They are the wind at our backs, pushing us to move forward and look ahead. They are the green on the trees and in the Earth, reminding us to stay focused and grounded. And they are the rivers and oceans, reminding us to always be compassionate and hopeful throughout our lives.

But most of all they are inside of us, giving us strength, hope, love and determination. They never leave our side, even if we stray away from them for awhile, they are always there waiting for us to return to them again. Never judging us for our imperfections, but loving us despite them. The Gods love us unconditionally and without wavering, as we should all love ourselves and those around us.

I guess my point is that just because you belong to a particular faith (Wiccan, pagan, Christian, Muslim, or otherwise) does not mean you automatically get an in-depth personal relationship with the Divine. This takes work, devotion and most of all, love. This is a relationship that you will continue to nurture and grow throughout your entire life. It is important that you tend to it just as you would your garden, your pets, or any family or friendship. A relationship cannot exist without both sides working for it. The Gods are doing their share, now how about you?

To begin to have a relationship with your Gods you must go to them not only with an open heart and open mind, but also with complete, unconditional love. For this is the same way they look upon us. I think it also important to not only seek them out for help with problems, but also to seek them out for celebrations and happy times as well, to give thanks for the blessings that they bestow upon us.

Yes, it’s true; sometimes it feels like the Gods have given up on us; hen the world is black and dreary. And while we know they will not give us more then we can handle, sometimes we wish they would not trust us so much. But deep down we know that with their strength and love, we have all the tools we need to get through anything life hands us, if we just ask.

Circle Etiquette

Circle Etiquette

 

Never summon Anything you can’t banish.

Never put asafoetida on the rocks in the sweat lodge.

Do not attempt to walk more than 10 paces while wearing all of your ritual jewelry, dream bags and crystals at the same time.

When proposing to initiate someone, do not mention the Great Rite, leer, and say, “Hey, your trad or mine?”

Never laugh at someone who is skyclad. They can see you, too.

Never, ever set the Witch on fire.

Looking at nifty pictures is not a valid path to mastering the ancient grimoires. Please read thoroughly and carefully from beginning to end so that your madness and gibberings will at least make some sense.

A good grasp of ritual and ritual techniques are essential! In the event of a random impaling, or other accidental death amongst the participants, (see next rule) a quick thinker can improvise to ensure successful completion of the Rite. Make them another sacrifice, Demons like those.

Watch where you wave the sharp pointy items.

Avoid walking through disembodied spirits.

Carry an all purpose translators dictionary in case the ritual leader begins talking in some strange and unknown language.

Avoid joining your life force to anything with glowing red eyes.

If asked to sign a contract or pact and you are experiencing doubts or reservations, sign your neighbors name. Malevolent entities rarely ask for photo ID.

Blood is thicker than water. Soak ritual garments an extra 30-45 minutes.

While drunken weaving may be mistaken for ecstatic dancing, slurring the names of Deities is generally considered bad form.