If you are reading this, you know that I am a Witch. There never was a time, since I ‘took up the broom’, that I chose to keep it in the closet. I just felt that I couldn’t educate people from in there. Over the years, I have had to defend my path, explain it and endure the results when someone had preconceived notions as to what the Craft is and what kind of person I am for following it.
The most difficult part is the quest for validity. I dress primarily in black, and some would say, ‘look the part’ in the same way that a nun or priest does. This is not to make a statement or stand out in a crowd, but rather to enhance what I do 24/7 and that is to immerse myself in the fathomless well that is my spiritual calling. Ah ha, here’s where it gets sticky. Trying to convince those of mainstream, conventional paths that the calling that I received is just as valid and righteous as the one that called them to theirs.
It doesn’t help that the fun part of being a Witch has a tendency to overshadow the deep spiritual aspect. Creepy and kooky, mysterious and spooky and altogether…uky? I might be mysterious and quite eccentric, but I’ve never been ‘uky’ a day in my life. Sure, I reach into my ‘wicked sense of humor bag’ a lot when it comes to being a Witch because it helps others get comfortable with who I am, but certainly not to mock or make fun of what I feel is a sacred path. Once people find me approachable, they will discover that I am a person they might want to get to know better and may even begin to defend me to anyone who might say something negative. I consider this, progress. So, if I have to cackle at one more joke at my expense or threaten to unleash my flying Monkeys, I’m okay with it. I know that no malice is intended when a co-worker gives me a gift of a green faced, hooked nose, Witch Beanie Baby. Compared to being snubbed, harassed, and the target of mean spirited nastiness…I can take a joke and make them too.
When I am alone in my beautiful room that I have that serves as my ‘Temple Between The Worlds”, I don’t have to explain a thing. My Patrons know me and I know Them. I didn’t summon Them or demand that They ‘work with me’, but rather, each one made Themselves known when I was ready to hear Them and accept the honor of Their presence in my life. No one will ever make me doubt the validity of the connection that I have with Them. I’ve witnessed and experienced the result every moment, and for this, I am eternally grateful. Yes, the Magick is a glorious gift and the power can be intoxicating, but my relationship with Them is truly the highest blessing that I have been given.
At times, due to the depth of the spiritual aspect of my calling, I might be accused of attempting to lure people away from their own religious beliefs and practice, especially when it comes to young people and their curiosity. Nothing could be farther from the truth because I know the difficulty of traversing this terrain with all its jagged edges. The desperate loneliness of being a ‘minority’, steeped in a brew of solitary secrecy, is no church pot luck or community picnic in the park. Being true to my path, I don’t celebrate holidays that are not congruent with my beliefs so unless I celebrate with my own Coven or attend the limited events available, I’m on my own.
As for the young who might be enticed by the Craft, I am quick to point out, they could do worse. A path that requires them to accept the responsibility for their actions, live in harmony with Nature and lead contentious lives might be an improvement over blaming parents, ‘the devil’ or both, for being inconsiderate, self-absorbed and entitled. However, they will not be coerced by me.
Can a person take their spiritual path too seriously? If so, I am justly accused. Would I accept being martyred to defend it? I certainly hope that it never comes to that. But, I am someone who cannot separate my spirituality from ‘real life’ because for me, they are one in the same and not side by side. The days of living my path one hour a week in a building designated for that purpose are long gone and far behind me. It was for that very reason that I found myself waging a constant internal battle to be good enough in the eyes of my ‘god’ and failed miserably because I was trying to empty the world’s oceans with a teaspoon. Where would I put the water without creating another ocean that needed to be emptied?
I made one last desperate cry for help that fell on deaf ears. When the echo of my own scream subsided, I heard the call that I was meant to hear…and I answered.