2
At the Loom: Feel the smooth wood of the ancient loom and smell its aroma, worn and oiled by many hands, greased by sweat and blood.
Liminally Minded: The voices of the liminal speak in rumbling images, resonating deep within the core of our being.
The Witch is an archetype, a character of many faces and descriptions influenced by time and culture. In order to understand who is the Witch and what it means to be one, we will define the word and delve through history. We’ll consider where the Witch originated, the nuances of becoming one, and the array of factors involved in choosing this word and this path.
Defining Witch
In order to talk about who or what is a Witch, and what it means to be one, I think it’s important to consider how the word Witch is often defined, as well as its various interpretations. At first, Witch may seem like an easy word to define, but it’s not unlike a rat’s nest, covered in layers of debris. There are a lot of different theories about the origins of the word, and there is even more cultural baggage associated with it. Let’s start untangling it by starting with the most common outside views. If we look in any basic dictionary, we’ll be told that a Witch is someone with malevolent supernatural powers, usually a woman in league with the devil or similar evil forces. In appearance, the Witch could be an ugly old hag or a beautiful and enchanting yet dangerous woman. Thanks to developments over the last several decades, if we dig a bit deeper into the dictionary definition, we may see a slight nod to contemporary religious practices.
Recent history aside, the word Witch has been used for centuries to demonize women, with the direct intent to disempower them and push them into submission. There are a multitude of theories for the cause of witch hunts and trials in the fifteenth to eighteenth centuries, such as squashing other religions and related practices, seizing land and property, ridding a town of unwanted and marginal people, and getting back at neighbors, but they all have fear at the heart of them. The vast majority of victims were women, particularly those working as midwives and healers, elderly widows, and young women who were the objects of desire and jealousy.
It is highly unlikely that most victims of the witch trials were Witches in the sense that we will be discussing in this book. Rather, they were scapegoats who took the blame for whatever went wrong in a village or town or suited the agenda of those making the accusations. During these times, the Witch was the central focus of subconscious or unspoken fears, desires, and dangers. Witch hunters spread propaganda to line their pockets, particularly in the form of the treatise the Malleus Maleficarum. This “Hammer of Witches” outlines how Witches worked with the devil, were the cause of diseases and unexplained deaths, and were a scourge on Christianity. Connecting the fear of the Witch with the possibility that anyone—but especially women—could be one made it easy to exercise any means to take out potential threats. This explains why so many definitions of Witch have an association with women, young and old alike.
But what about the time prior to the witch hunts and trials? If we look at the possible roots of the word Witch, we come across a wide variety of theories, from “wise one” and “seer” to “to know,” “ to observe,” “to bend,” and “to work magic.” Why would collecting wisdom, knowing, seeing, and magic be a threat to Christianity? In a word: competition. Particularly at a time when the Roman Catholic Church was looking to expand its reach (and its coffers), other religions and practices were perceived as a threat. The Crusades were all about “rescuing” the “Holy Lands” from the Jews and Arabs and spreading Christianity to the pagans and heathens while taking over their lands. Healing practices, mythology, and divination from other religions and cultures competed with the stories of Jesus’s own healing magic, powers of sight, miracles, and divinity. In order to conquer those places and ideas, those things had to be vilified—to be seen as evil or unclean.
In her article on the derivation of the word Witch, Doreen Valiente explores many of the theories behind the origin of this word,3 or at least those in popular discussion prior to her death in 1999. (Every decade, there seems to be a new idea about how the word developed, where it came from, and how it was used.) She states that she believes the word means that “a witch was a seer, a knower, an averter of evil” and that it did not possess any negative meanings until the advent of Christianity.
As much as I adore Doreen Valiente and can resonate with her summary, I think there has always been some fear attached to the word Witch. In every culture on this planet, there is a word used to describe a person who works with spirits and deities, who uses magic and divination in some form. In some places they may have two words—one to describe an individual who uses their powers for good and another to describe the opposite. But often they are one and the same, and anyone who deals with mysterious powers and the unknown realms is often looked upon with a mixture of fear and awe by others. On one hand, a Witch could be asked to make medicine to heal or perform a blessing, and on the other, they may be sought out to help administer a brew to cause an abortion or help ease someone into death. That line between benevolent and malevolent is a little too thin (if it exists at all) for many people to be comfortable with, even if they find both kinds of services convenient for their needs. Knowing human nature, even in societies where the Witch-person has garnered respect over the ages, there probably has been and still is a bit of awe and fear present in that mix.
The Origin of the Witch
Where did the Witch come from? I would venture to say the Witch came into being at the point when human beings cognitively recognized the existence of the Other—the supernatural and unseen forces that surround us: gods, spirits, the dead, the mysteries of the world. Not only did they recognize it, but they sought ways to interact with it physically and metaphysically. The ability to be aware of these relationships and workings emerged concurrently with the evolution of the brain’s ability to think in terms of abstract concepts (time, space, pattern, image) and to recognize and assign meaning to the cycles of life and death. As those concepts developed in our brains, it seems probable that we also recognized the importance of developing specialized skills in accordance with those abilities.
Through the creating and telling of myths, developing powers of prophecy and spirit travel, connecting with plants and animals to discover their secrets, and communicating with deities and ancestors, the Witch emerged as humankind struggled to survive. As with all skill sets, certain individuals may have displayed a natural talent, disposition, or extraordinary understanding of their world, granting them an elevated position in the group. Knowledge would be shared with the young, and ways and reasoning passed down through training when possible—similar to how one would teach hunting, fishing, building, and other necessary crafts and skills.
It’s quite likely that very early on, the Witch had an integral place in society, tending to the group’s spiritual needs as well as healing and other arts. A group typically functions best when each person has a role that they focus on, rather than all members trying to cover all the same bases at the same time. We tend to naturally specialize so that our energy is conserved and everyone contributes in a way that’s effective for the larger group. Whether the group was nomadic or put down roots, every member had a purpose. More often than not, a person had multiple roles or positions as well. Look at history all the way to modern existing tribal cultures and you’ll see the specialization at work: hunters, leaders, gatherers, warriors or guardians, weavers and crafts folk, farmers, herders, bakers, blacksmiths, teachers, childcare providers, healers, and those who take care of the spiritual well-being of the people. Our modern-day “advanced” society has moved so far away from its roots and a truly rewarding work system that it’s not surprising we feel so disassociated from ourselves and each other.
Many folks like to think the Witch came about through special divine intervention (which I’m not discounting here), but really mastering any task or specialty requires a sort of intuitive talent (whether it’s seemingly natural or second nature) or takes a great deal of practice to absorb. We each have things we are wired to do best, and that can seem supernatural or extraordinary to others in comparison. Gathering and wildcrafting requires a certain kind of sight and understanding of how things grow. Hunting requires another set of skills for tracking and killing. The same is true for agriculture, animal husbandry, weaving, cooking, and so forth. The diversity of talent found within all human beings is a wonderful thing to behold.
We tend to think that early Homo sapiens were primitive in comparison to us, but we share the same brains and bodies. While they may not have had modern science to explain how the solar system works, or microscopes to view cells and microbes, our ancestors lived much closer to the natural world than we do. They saw and lived through connections that most of us miss. It is also silly to dismiss their ideas about how the world works as superstitions—especially when a fair number of people of this planet currently believe in a roughly two-thousand-year-old recycled myth about how a possibly divine man dying on a piece of wood saved the world from sin and will come back again at any moment to bring about the end of the world.
When we look at the development of the Witch compared to the evolution of civilization, it doesn’t seem very mystical or mysterious. I feel that with Witchcraft there is a tendency to want to have some kind of supernatural evidence, more clues that point to how special Witches are. This desire is understandable. When most of what you do is to deal with the unseen, you don’t want to be completely ostracized by your neighbors, family, or friends—you want a good story to protect and root you.
Nearly every book I pick up on Witchcraft nowadays talks about either the angelic origins of the Witch or the concept of “Witch blood.” In several different traditions of Witchcraft, you will find stories of the Watchers and the Nephilim. A term commonly translated as “giants,” the Nephilim show up in the book of Genesis, the book of Enoch, the book of Jubilees, and other small parts of the Old Testament. In some cases they are referred to as great men, and in other places, wicked beings. Some people believe the Nephilim are the offspring of sexual relations between fallen angels and human women: “The legend of the Watchers relates how two hundred sons of heaven descended to earth and took as wives the daughters of men. The celestial beings, angels, taught their mates the forbidden arts of magic, botany, astronomy, astrology, and the use of cosmetics. Azazel, leader of the Order of Watchers, instructed mankind on the manufacture and use of weapons in the art of war.” 4
Other interpretations view the Nephilim as being the offspring of Seth and Cain—and see them as abominations because they did not worship Yahweh. This version tends to appeal to those who like a darker approach that gives that god the proverbial finger. Whether they are the products of fallen angels or of heretics, the descendants of Seth are often counted as among those destroyed by the great flood. But let’s focus a little more on those angels:
The egregoroi are those angels who keep unsleeping watch over mankind and all creation. The same noun also occurs in The Book of the Secrets of Enoch (Apocrypha). In the Greek translation of The Book of Enoch, a Watcher is called an egregoros. In Greek the verb egregorein means “to keep watch, to stay awake.”
Only two hundred of the Watchers mentioned in the Old Testament were led astray by the beauty of mortal women and descended to earth in the year 1000 [after creation]. Many others remain on watch in the heavens. 5
If you’re like me, you’re probably wondering at this point what angels have to do with Witchcraft, specifically angel penis.6 Well, I’m glad you asked! You may have noticed that Mathiesen mentions the book of Enoch in the previous quote. If you’re at all familiar with Western esotericism, you probably have heard of the Enochian alphabet and the sixteenth-century scholars/occultists Dr. John Dee and Edward Kelley. It was during their era that grimoires of magic, alchemy, and other occult sciences became all the rage among the wealthy scholarly folk in Europe.
In the fifteenth century, the penalty for being accused of witchcraft moved from being a relatively minor sentence to becoming a punishable-by-death offense. Alongside this shift, witch hunting became a profitable venture and the persecution of witches spread for another three centuries. So it’s not surprising that grimoires and other magical works from that era started to allude to the belief that only those born to magic (from within the womb) can become true masters and be gifted gracefully in all matters of life (aka born into wealth, class, or privilege). 7 Ordinary people might learn how to do magic adequately but would find God’s disfavor quickly and find ruin. To connect the dots, these magicians focused on the part where the fallen angels taught the Nephilim how to do magic and other occult wisdom. Logically, humans who could understand and do magic clearly had the blood of the Nephilim in their veins. Therefore, their study of such sciences—combined with the fact that they were wealthy—clearly showed that they were favored by God (nevermind the detail that the Nephilim have quite the mixed reputation in the Bible or were supposedly all destroyed). Their work could be accepted and respected by society as long as they stayed on the good side of wealthy patrons, the ruling class, and religious institutions, unlike those other people who clearly were not born to magic from the womb—you know, the poor people being persecuted and killed for doing Witchcraft. Yes, indeed, folks: white dude privilege at work! Of course things did get really hairy toward the end of the witch hunts, and not even the rich were safe if accused repeatedly, so any talk of magick went underground for a while.
Then in the early middle part of the nineteenth century, we saw the rise of Spiritualism in Europe and North America. Spiritualism focuses on the belief that the spirits of the deceased can and do wish to communicate with the living. Furthermore, spirits—because they are closer to the divine—are able to direct and guide humans on matters of the soul and moral living. Many of the movers and shakers of the early movements that spawned Spiritualism were students of the occult. Throughout numerous writings (including the work of revolutionary figures Allen Putnam and Emma Hardinge Britten, among others), we can see that they found and latched onto that sixteenth-century “born to magic” idea and brought it forward in a similar way. They claimed that their skills as mediums and other abilities were God-given in the womb and therefore were nothing evil or unnatural. For a while, being a medium, magician, or Witch was all rather synonymous and considered natural—and socially acceptable! Even though the popularity of Spiritualism began to wane in the early twentieth century, justification of psychic skills and magical abilities via angelic blood found its way into modern magical societies and traditions of Witchcraft.
I find Watcher history and lore fascinating, but it doesn’t really resonate with me or seem all that relevant to my actual practice. You would think that someone who works with myths and art as a living would be more romantic about these things, but I’m not. You’re telling me that some angelic teachers many ages ago, whose job it was to instruct humankind, looked at human women and thought, How you doin’? And that through their union we got Witches? And that those who come to Witchcraft now probably have that angelic blood from way back when running in their veins? Sure, okay. Also, what’s to stop the same thing from happening today? It’s hard to miss, but at the end of the passage I quoted from Robert Mathiesen earlier in this chapter is this line: “Many others remain on watch in the heavens.” It’s been a few thousand years, so what’s to say that a few more Watchers haven’t defected along the way and slept with humans? It’s quite a probable idea actually, if you want to buy into the original story. However, that modern consideration would not technically be scripture, and when you want to hold up “Christian” ideals to appeal to those who may persecute you, it’s akin to biblical fan fiction.
The other curious thing that seems often forgotten is the fact that the fallen angels taught humanity a lot of different skills—not just magic, and certainly not things we would necessarily think of as being in the blood. (Excellent plumber? There’s probably an angel for that!) Some people excel at music, others at math and science, and some are incredible marksmen.
Perhaps that’s all in the genes, but attributing any of these skills to angel penis seems rather pointless. You can look to any culture on this planet and you will find a corresponding story about how humans learned to use fire, make weapons, identify useful plants, and develop a wide array of arts. The Titan Prometheus in Greek mythology, Loki from Nordic tales, Anansi in African folklore, and Coyote in Native American legends all have stories of how they brought wisdom and skills to humanity. Correlating figures who work specifically with magic and Witchcraft, such as Freya, Hekate, and Circe, all refer to cunning skill combined with wisdom as part of the source of their powers. In their stories, you will find that being a Witch is not necessarily a bloodline gift but can be bestowed upon a worthy individual through both blessing and study.
Let’s think for a moment about all those virgin mother stories that have been kicking around for several thousand years. (Spoiler alert: Jesus wasn’t the first.) Oh, it was divine intervention that made this extra-special person? Because humans aren’t special enough, or a tainted woman couldn’t produce such a thing? Must have been heavenly penis! To be blunt, I think modern Witchcraft needs to dump the patriarchal bullshit and Abrahamic entanglements. There is so much more profound inspiration to be found in both history and the world around us.
Am I demystifying the roots of Witchcraft? Some may see it that way, but I think instead we’re getting closer to the actual roots. The Nephilim and their supposed influence on modern Witchcraft is fairly recent on the timeline of history, coming largely out of ceremonial magic fantasies and the desire to be socially acceptable or have special dispensation. Carry those same ideas further into the magical societies and fraternities that spawned much of modern Paganism (Freemasonry, the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, Rosicrucianism) and you get some dangerously classist and racist ideas mixed in with a side of patriarchy. Yes, they preserved and passed on some knowledge, but to believe that was the only knowledge available concerning Witchcraft and it could be saved only by these elite folks is really narrow-minded.
Witchcraft from women-related areas (such as cooking magic, body wisdom, and herbal remedies) and folklore from common or rural people and from non-white people were often ignored or dismissed as “ low magic.” The fact that those areas were largely ignored by wealthy occult dudes doesn’t mean they ceased to exist.8 They have and do continue on, without the patriarchal stamp of approval.
To be fair, much of modern Paganism and occultism does owe a debt of gratitude to the mid-twentieth-century folks who brought Witchcraft back into the spotlight, for better or worse. They, in turn, stood on the shoulders of the Spiritualists and similar practitioners who helped change the laws of the lands, making it possible to even bring such things back into public consciousness. They all have made important contributions that are worth investigating, and it is history that shouldn’t be ignored. What I caution against is seeing their work as the only way to look at Witchcraft, or to believe it’s the only valid source. Remember, practically every culture has a word that is equivalent to Witch. No one culture owns the real estate that is Witchcraft. They all have it in some form or variation.
It’s also small-minded to think only in definitive, linear terms when it comes to wisdom and knowledge. If the source of magic is a monstrous coupling that happened thousands of years ago, you’re almost saying that myths exist only in the past. It stops the mind from considering that amazing things could happen today or from realizing that new information could be passed on and lost wisdom revealed again. So many traditions recognize that spirits, deities, and the deceased can instruct us in this life. The whole story of Aradia, the daughter of Diana, being sent to earth to instruct the people in Witchcraft is just one example of a much more recent sharing of knowledge. Knowledge is never truly lost; it can be hidden only for a time.
Does it really matter where Witches come from? If we look at this practice as a calling, then why must being a Witch be more special than any other vocation? Do all blacksmiths have the blood of Wayland or Hephaestus in their blood? Are athletes the product of wayward sports angels? Where do you draw the line between inherent talents/gifts and hard work to develop a practice? Sure, we may have certain genetic markers that predispose us to certain skills, but what if spirit isn’t passed down genetically but is distributed some other way? (Also, I’m not saying it was aliens … but hey, you never know.) We can get hung up on words and concepts. We can argue about what was real and what was contrived by enemies and conjured by fantasy and imagination. But it still doesn’t change who or what the Witch is in essence—regardless of origin story, culture, gender, age, or practice.
Natural-Born Witch vs. Made Witch
Okay, now that I’ve torched some popular origin myths, you’re probably wondering what makes someone a Witch. Welcome to another area that’s been hotly debated: Can one be a natural-born Witch or can a Witch be “made”? Is it something that just happens when you’re born or is it a word you can just call yourself? Can you initiate yourself or does it require being initiated by someone else? Some people believe that yes, you can or must be born to it. Others say that you must be initiated in order to make deeper connections and tap into the power of Witch blood. Still others believe you can find your way on your own or with a little spiritual guidance from beyond.
The Traditional Initiatory Path
I’ll lay the most obvious option on the table first. If you want to study and become part of a specific tradition of Witchcraft or Wicca, then you’re going to need to study with that school or group. There will likely be some sort of initiatory process after a predetermined length or amount of study. You just can’t wake up and say, “Today I’m going to be an Alexandrian or a Feri!” (Well, technically you can if you have already studied and become initiated into both traditions, though I’m not sure why you’d wake up deciding to be one or the other on any given day.) It’s really rather simple: if you want to be part of a certain lineage, you need to study it and follow through with it.
Natural-Born Witch?
There are certainly individuals who possess natural talents and abilities that enable them to be very successful with little effort from the get-go. For others, it may take a bit of hard work to get the same effect. It’s important to keep in mind that all human beings at one time or another have “psychic” tendencies—this is not an unusual thing. What may cloud or suppress these additional senses is a person’s upbringing. If your parents were hippies, then chances are you have an open mind toward New Age concepts (or completely reject them, depending on your relationship with your parents). If the religion you were raised with looks at divination as evil, then you may not be inclined to try to do tarot (unless you’re feeling rebellious, in which case you’ll probably be inclined to try everything). If you saw ghosts or spirits as a child and were told to stop playing with imaginary friends, you may have closed off that part of your brain temporarily. It may take some training to shed the blinders, but it can be done.
Still, being able to read cards, guess what someone is thinking, or sense trouble at home doesn’t automatically mean you’re a Witch. It does mean you’re doing a pretty good job at accessing parts of the brain that others could use some work on. Good job! You definitely have some witchy attributes! Pagan spirituality and Witchcraft certainly do allow for a greater acceptance of these abilities than other religions and paths do, which is why they’re often associated with each other.
The Self-Guided Path
Most people think of Scott Cunningham’s 1988 book Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner as the first self-initiatory guide, but Doreen Valiente’s Witchcraft for Tomorrow was actually released in 1978 for those seeking to be Witches without access to covens. Is a self-guided path a valid one? I certainly believe so—and it’s not that new of a concept either. When a person begins to study this path seriously, the universe tends to help them understand things—if they don’t have someone in person to guide them. There are also many stories of people being initiated in dreams and other visions by spirits or ancestors. If it’s valid enough for Grandmom, gods, and spirits, who are we to argue? The idea of formal degrees and levels comes mainly from ceremonial magic societies. Witchcraft tends to be more organic than that, so it’s hard to set a specific timeline to measure growth.
Going for the Title
I don’t want to rain on the parade of anyone who is looking to tap into their “inner Witch.” There is a lot to be discovered within the archetype of the Witch, especially for those who feel marginalized. I know some people who like to use the title of Witch to feel special, dangerous, or powerful. It can be like a hat they put on for a week or a year. Maybe they’re not serious about it at first, but they learn something about themselves and who they are in the process. In the end, it doesn’t matter to me what you call yourself. That’s totally up to you.
In Summary
Witchcraft requires a great deal of dedication to study, research, and training. Talent in magic/Witchcraft/psychic abilities is part natural ability and part practice, like most things. If you put effort into it and you’re serious about it, you’ll find your way.
Religion, Spirituality, or Vocation?
Back in the days of ye olde traditional Witchcraft online forums and IRC channels (aka the ’90s), the debate about whether Witchcraft was a religion was a hot one, littered with the bodies of many whipped, deceased equines. My answer both then and now is the same: yes, of course, and no, not exactly. It comes down to one’s perspective, background, and personal practice and to semantics.
If you’re coming at Witchcraft from a Wiccan perspective, then of course you’re going to say that “this is my religion.” Wicca, as it has developed from Gardner to today, has been based on the concept of reviving both Witchcraft/cunning folk practices and ancient beliefs in respecting the land and deities of old. It’s rooted in a participant, group-working structure based on its more ceremonial magic roots (Golden Dawn, Freemasonry, the O.T.O., etc.) and purposefully was developed as a religion. It’s recognized today in many places as a legitimate world religion under the umbrella of Neo-Paganism. (I would argue that it pretty much provided the skeleton structure of said umbrella, along with Druidry.)
But then there’s another perspective where you view Witchcraft as a magical practice that is not necessarily tied to any specific belief system. You could be a P-word of some sort, but maybe you’re an atheist, animist, or agnostic, or maybe you identify more comfortably as a Christian, Jew, or Buddhist. 9 You’re not going to feel in any way that Witchcraft is your religion. It’s a thing you do.
When you hear the word religion, you may think something on the order of “a group of people holding a similar set of beliefs and morals, gathered in a somewhat organized fashion.” For extra flourishes, throw in a temple or church, tax-free status, and legal recognition. But if we look at the root of the word religion, it can be interpreted as “to reconnect.” What are we connecting to again? We can consider religion as a means to understanding ourselves and our relationship with the divine. It can be personal and unique, without all the other baggage. Think about it.
When I ask myself “What is my religion?” I’m seeking to define how I personally connect with my spiritual self, the world around me, and the divine. It doesn’t directly involve anyone else. I believe there are many gods (polytheism), without subscribing to one pantheon. I also see the sacredness and divine interconnection of all things (pantheism), and I believe that creatures, places, and things can hold unique spiritual energy (animism). I don’t use the term worship in regard to anything I do. How I interact with all of these things is strongly determined by my path as a Witch. For ease, I can just toss on the label Pagan, which I do occasionally without blinking an eye. But it doesn’t even begin to describe all of what I just described.
Then there are the myriad interpretations of the word Witchcraft. The easiest breakdown of this word is “craft of the Witch,” but for some people that automatically equates to magick of some sort—and there are many varieties to consider. For others it means the knowledge and use of a wide variety of practices and techniques that probably also include spellcraft. I follow the latter understanding, so for me, Witchcraft does not automatically equate to spellcraft.
Spellcraft is the craft of creating spells. Witches can do far more than just cast spells. They work with spirits and walk in liminal places. Witches act as guides, teachers, counselors, psychics, healers, protectors, and artisans. Spells can be done by anyone, without much investment of time or experience. In this understanding, calling yourself a Witch simply because you occasionally use magick is like calling yourself a doctor because you know how to treat a cut or calling yourself a plumber because you replaced the broken chain on the toilet. That’s why I’m not a fan of making spellcraft synonymous with Witchcraft.
For me, Witchcraft is how I see that everything is interwoven. It is more than magick and spells. It is not easily defined or organized into a system for others, but it carries legal status and recognition. It is both my spiritual system and my vocational practice. How is being a Witch my vocation? It is my profession, a worthy trade requiring great dedication and skill. The word vocation also tends to have spiritual or religious implications—and I am a priestess as well. But that’s not all. Being a Witch interweaves with being an artist, an author, a designer, and a dancer, all considered professions in their own right. I make art professionally that taps into the spiritual realm and enlists spellcraft as part of its execution. I write about Witchcraft. When I design sigils and other items, I’m tapping into my training as a Witch. Lastly, when I perform and teach dance, something metaphysical is at work—healing spirits, hearts, and bodies through movement.
So now that we have all the parts on the table, you can see why the response to the question of whether Witchcraft is a religion can be so varied and even volatile. It really has so much to do with where you’re coming from and what the words mean to you and how you interact with them. The connecting factor in all of this is you. In the end, that’s the main person to whom it should matter. It’s what drives you and your practice. Everything else is just words.
Participant or Practitioner?
We still have a few more sticky areas to delve into, and this next one is often overlooked or not even considered. We’re going to look at the Witch as practitioner versus participant, because they are different things that can help you define your path and what you will get out of it. A practitioner is a person actively engaged in an art, discipline, or profession. A participant is a person who takes part in something.
Looking at how the Neo-Paganism movement has interwoven with Witchcraft over the last half-century, you can see two kinds of paths emerging. One path focuses on creating community through building or rebuilding a religion, making it participant-minded, while the other path focuses more on power over the self and learning a craft, making it practitioner-geared. Sometimes the paths do overlap, but it’s the latter path that builds my root definition of the Witch. To help us see the difference, let’s consider the following metaphor.
Imagine a decent-size boat that’s seaworthy. Everybody who gets on that boat may or may not have similar belief systems and approaches to getting things done. They may know how to drive the boat or how to build it, or maybe they just love being on the boat and looking out at the water. Maybe they fish and do other activities from the boat. They all really like getting on this boat for their own reasons.
And then there’s a person we’ll call the captain for the sake of this metaphor. The captain may care deeply for the other people who get on the boat, or at the bare minimum this person may just make sure everyone gets where they need to go or does what they want to do safely, regardless of who they are. The captain not only understands how the boat is made and how it functions but also understands how to read the water, the sky, the winds, and the sea life. The captain knows how to navigate and guide. The captain knows the boat best and has an intimate relationship with it.
Can you guess who’s the Witch in that metaphor and why? The Witch isn’t in it halfway. It’s all or nothing. The path permeates everything they do. It’s not a once-a-month or once-a-week thing, something hauled out and dusted off, but rather it’s a lens through which everything is viewed every day. It defines how they interact with people, the world around them, and everything unseen as well. The Witch is the navigator of their own path and a guide for others.
And none of these things can be learned from any one book or a series of the very best books or grimoires (no, not even this book). This wisdom comes from doing, from being, from trying, failing, observing, and learning—in real time and space, over an extended period of time, at your own pace. A preset determination of guided years of study doesn’t guarantee that actual experience, nor can it dictate the pace at which you will move. And you may participate in the activities of others and get on other boats to see how things are done, but you always come back to your own boat, guiding your way through your own ocean.
Journal Reflection: Do you see yourself best suited to forging your own path or following an established one? If you are currently following an established path, is it something you foresee being able to tailor to your needs?
What It Means to Be a Witch
We’ve looked at the definitions and the history of the word Witch. But what does it mean to actually be a Witch? What is the place of the Witch today? How is identifying with that path relevant to living in today’s modern society? The following are all things to consider as you read and work through this book. You’ll need to form your own opinion of what being a Witch means to you because it’s your path.
• The Witch’s place in society is often found on the edge of it or even hidden underneath it.
• To be a Witch is to be of the marginal and for the marginal of society.
• This path is often iconoclastic, following a route that goes against the grain of the majority.
• The Witch has long been the one who knows, the one you go to when no one else will help, in the dark depths of night, in the hidden part of the woods.
• The Witch is there to fill the void when conventional (or mundane) means just won’t do.
• The way of the Witch is not an easy one—nor, despite the cyclical brushes with the limelight, a truly popular one.
• The Witch exists in a space simultaneously of the community and not of the community, partly because the Witch deals in matters of the Other (the gods, the spirits, the dead, the mysteries) and partly because the Witch is a keeper of knowledge, an independent thinker, and essentially a loner. When you see the world differently, it changes how you interact with it.
• The Witch is genderless.
• The Witch is the gateway to the unknown, the dangerous, and the wild.
• The Witch is relevant today because we have become largely separated from ourselves, from one another, and from the world. The Witch is the weaver who can shift the pattern and reconnect the threads.
Choosing the Word Witch
So with all that in mind, why call yourself a Witch? It is definitely a loaded word that can’t be thrown around lightly. Some people choose Witch because they see it as reclaiming the word from centuries of bad connotations. They are connecting with its roots and perhaps earlier meanings of being the wise one, the shifter, the changer, the seer. Others choose it as their label because of its power to stir the imagination and perhaps to summon a sense of fear or awe or to shock. Regardless of the reason, there truly is an undeniable power in choosing the word Witch. It evokes a sense of danger, a knowledge of hidden realms and charms, and an air of mystery.
I choose the word Witch because I feel it best describes who I am and what I do. I am not a magician or a sorceress, nor am I a shaman. I am urban yet wild. My magick is both visible and unseen. I seek to tap into my own power and that of the universe, and weave balance as I do so. The work I do is for myself as well as others—other people, spirits, and deities alike.
Journal Reflection: Do you identify with the word Witch? Why or why not? If not, is there another word you use?
What Is a Real Witch, Anyway?
The final thing I want to talk about in this chapter is perception and reality. If you’ve spent a hot minute perusing online communities, visited an occult shop, or ventured out to a gathering, you may have heard one or all of the following statements:
• “You’re not a real Witch if you hex.”
• “You’re not a real Witch if you don’t hex.”
• “You can’t be a Witch and believe in gods.”
• “You can’t be a Witch and not believe in gods.”
• “If you don’t practice or believe this, then you’re not a real ____________.”
• “You can only be a Witch if you undergo this initiation process.”
• “You can only be a Witch if it has been documented in your blood for centuries.”
• “___________ aren’t real Witches.”
• “Only real Witches do _____________.”
• “You can’t call yourself a Witch because you’re not the right gender/color/age/religion.”
• “Nobody should call themselves a Witch because ___________.”
• “Unless you live in the woods and/or are in direct contact with nature all the time, you’re not a real Witch.”
People can be very vocal about what they believe is authentic, actual, or real, but the moment they start making declarations along these lines, things get dicey. They are basing their opinions mainly on their own personal experience or what they’ve been told, without looking at the larger picture or entertaining other possibilities.
There was a time in my late teens and early twenties when I was very adamant about knowing the difference between being a Witch and being a Wiccan. I wasn’t Wiccan, and I bristled at the suggestion, even if it was a generally well-meaning person trying to show their understanding: “Oh, you’re a Witch? My daughter is a Wiccan too!” If you try to explain to that nice older lady why you believe a Wiccan and a Traditional Witch are very different, you’re going to be met with a blank stare. The lady who said this to me was probably just trying to be nice or relate to me in some way. It’s like trying to explain the difference between a Catholic, a Methodist, and a Lutheran to someone who doesn’t really care or just wants to make polite conversation.
In the twenty or so years since then, I’ve learned a few things:
• It is not my concern to worry about how other people choose to label themselves. I can’t control what others do; I am only responsible for what I do and the results of my actions.
• The only person to whom the label truly matters is myself.
• What I do is far more important than what I call myself or what others may call me, and the same goes for everyone else. People’s actions are more important than their labels.
It’s one thing to be concerned when the label someone gives themselves is seen by the general public. We still see unfortunate, misinformed news headlines such as “Ritual Murder,” “Wiccan Sacrifice,” and “So-Called Druid Is Found Guilty of ______.” But I think most of the current unrest is really in-community bickering about semantics.
I’d venture that the reason this is an issue is because we’re relatively young as a community, but I also know from personal experience that other groups bicker too, whether it’s Jews, Christians, gamers, or bellydancers. I think that maybe the root of it is insecurity—impostor syndrome, if you will—worrying about whether we’re doing it right and what others will think of us: If that person is really what being an X is all about, what does that make me? Perhaps another part is the desire to get involved in other people’s business and prove ourselves to be superior in some way.
Also, I think we all do enjoy a visit to the catty corner at times, myself included; it’s a relief to roll our eyes and poke fun at something that doesn’t fit in our spectrum. My particular sore spot is when people espouse damaging practices. The challenge is finding the line between comic relief and being a complete asshole, which, again, I myself sometimes have a problem discerning—but as my friend Michael wisely noted to me, “We all have our flaws.” The best way to combat the whole thing is to respectfully suggest resources that may have better information (people, books, links, etc.) and/or put your own work out there. We can bitch about what we don’t like to see, or we can actually do something productive to provide a better example.
Here are a few more sentiments that may bring you some peace:
• How you see and interact with the divine is important only to you and the divine—and the people you work with directly.
• The age or origin of any path or tradition is meaningless and is not up for comparison for validity points. Everything started somewhere, and most (if not all) have sketchy origins littered with truth. If it works, it works—and don’t assume that a practitioner isn’t aware of their path’s origins. It’s their path, and it works for them. It doesn’t have to work for you.
• Everyone starts somewhere; we’re all newbies at some point. Only Athena and a few others were born fully formed, and that was not a guarantee they had their act together either.
• Do the work—in particular, do your work.
When you’re interacting with someone and they use a label to describe themselves, a great way to actually interact with them is to ask, “What does that word mean to you?” It can be a great way to start a really interesting and healthy discussion.
Try to keep these things in mind as we move forward together on this path. They’ll help you stay focused on what you wish to accomplish, unlike the head-monkeys that probably want to distract you from pushing ahead.
3. Doreen Valiente, “The Derivation of the Word ‘Witch,’ ” http://www.paganlibrary.com/reference/derivation_of_witch.php.
4. The Witches’ Almanac (1973–1974), author unattributed (likely editor Elizabeth Pepper).
5. Robert Mathiesen, “Watching Creation: Egregore,” The Witches’ Almanac (2008), https://thewitchesalmanac.com/watching-creation-egregore. See also “The Book of Enoch” in the same issue.
6. Nevermind that angels are supposedly beyond gender …
7. In Aphorism 17 of Arbatel: Of the Magic of the Ancients, the Latin grimoire of ceremonial magic published in 1575 and translated into English by Robert Turner, it says: “A man that is a true Magician, is brought forth a Magician from his mothers womb: others, who do give themselves to this office, are unhappie.” This concept is repeated throughout the text, and the work greatly influenced John Dee and many other notable occultists. Numerous Spiritualist and magic texts published in the late 1800s credit the German scholar Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa (1486–1535) with insisting that a man must be born a Magician from his mother’s womb, though Agrippa’s precise meaning may refer more precisely to a man knowing his own path versus having an angelic birthright: https://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/eebo/A26564.0001.001/1:24.6.4?rgn=div3;view=fulltext.
8. Charles Leland, the folklorist, could be considered an exception, with his research.
9. P-word = Pagan, Polytheist, Pantheist, etc.