My Mother never baptized me. We were not a family that ever went to church. It wasn’t until she got sick that she ever brought it up- suggesting that I explore what’s out there by tagging along with my friends to their respective places of worship. The last full summer she was alive she enrolled me in a bible camp- which I was summarily sent home early from.
My Mother was mortified but I also believe secretly a little proud- not that I had gotten caught kissing a boy at the campfire (it was nothing more than a peck- we were 11 years old for goodness sakes), but the second reason cited for my ‘release’ was my insolent nature. Even now this makes me giggle-
One of the camp activities was learning how to clean, load and shoot a 12 gauge shotgun. After gritting my teeth through the third post shot kick-back I asked the councillor a very important question. “What does learning about a shot gun have to do with Jesus and why were we playing ‘war games’ in the woods last night?” The night before, our cabin leader gave us flashlights at sundown and our ‘mission’ was to capture the ‘rival’ cabin’s flag, but you could tag people out or capture them. No answer was forth coming to my questions.
Next thing I knew, after my little peck at the fires edge, my mother was being called and I was being told I would be going home because I was not following the rules of the camp.
It isn’t that I went with out spiritual guidance, it was just different. my mother’s mom, aka my Nana or Nan taught me much about the spirit that moves through every living being. I didn’t know it at the time, and it wasn’t until I was a teen that I understood that she was teaching me the fundamentals of some of the arts associated with the ‘Craft’. As a teen and into my early 20s I would ‘play’ at being a Witch. Doing tarot reading for my friends, a few moon ceremonies, but mostly it was a practice of aesthetic and ritual with out deep understanding.
It was an occasional dalliance.
As I got older and life got busy I stepped away from incorporating much from the light practice I had into my every day life.
Yet in my core, I knew my Pagan nature.
It was about 6 years ago I began to feel the pull to begin exploring the ancient spark at my core. I was beginning a transition and I really wanted to know who I was. I began to immerse my self into remembering how to let the Tarot speak to me, how to feel the trees when they sigh. I needed to find my way back to source. There was so much moving through me. I would try to explain to those closest to me. But no one was on this particular path and it was hard to translate the humming energy I was connecting to and the way it was helping me see the world. It stayed this way for a couple of years.
One day I was boldly identified.
“Witch”
I stopped completely, no breath no heartbeat and I am sure a look of utter flustered guilt on my face.
A quick smile and nod to the necklace I was wearing, my hand immediately reached for it, my Pagan Charm necklace, there was all manner of identifying charms, a sword, pentacle, cup, broom etc.
Breathing resumed, there was no glowing sign on my head, whew. A like mind perhaps? How cool would that be, someone who gets the thing, the magic (not to sound too cliche).
My love of the Gods and Goddesses and all things magical and supernatural permeates much of my creativity. I had found a friend that really got that imagery and the lore. Someone who let me practice tarot reads with different spreads and ideas, for a time participated in the dissection of it. Someone I could share how I was seeing the world, the imagery and magic found in nature and it’s ties to the Craft, who could see it and not need an explanation.
I became bold and my ties to it deepened. I could feel how everything was meant to be connected. It was so exciting to feel so powerful.
Looking back now, my fatal mistake was being so new to feeling accepted. I did not realize how much I was depending on the approval and engagement of my fellow Pagan to reassure me that this was the ‘right’ path.
It was only when that ceased to be. That anything I considered an anchor to hold me steady had rusted and become weak or evaporated like it never existed, that I had to hold on tight and find where my faith could pull me through.
Three years ago I entered my Shadow work. It was not a gentle entry, it was like having the rug pulled out from you and you hit the ground, knocking all the air from you. I had been so accustom to sharing and working energy together, when the circle blew apart I physically felt it.
Two things happened then.
I felt utterly rejected for try to be something closer to who I thought I was/wanted to be. I wanted that security of having others on a similar path because I was fearful, it was exciting and comfortable to be able to share. And now I was cut free from so many of the ties I counted on to keep me here and safe. Fear shook me, I felt swallowed by the empty.
The second thing that has happened because of this, was me diving headfirst into my self. Through that learning I could begin to access the source power. My own magic that is reflected in nature.
That’s pretty easily said but this last three years have seen a reoccurrence of my mental health issues to a degree that I haven’t seen since my early 20s. I felt gutted, ugly, dark, putrefied. I stayed in the darkness to see what I could find and understand. At first, the intent was to fix what was wrong with me. To get a handle on what was so horrific about me that I was easily thrown away. I was also intent on learning how to create better protection magic. My Spiritual practice is very embedded in my mental health work (that will be a separate entry). I believe, for myself I would not be able to take on the self work I have been doing with out having a place with in myself that is anchored and connected to all that is.
Ritual has become more of a mainstay for me. Yes I do share some readings and still shots of ritual on social media. There is so much I leave out of those posts, I never include an incantation or spell, or any reference to my personal goal for the ritual. I study. The history, the now and the future of Paganism. I study different schools of philosophy. I look to the tarot for clarification. I do my best to touch and sit with the quiet of nature and look for the signs from the Gods and Goddesses that I am in alinement.
I have been learning so much about myself through my Practice. I have begun to feel some healing and self forgiveness, it builds a little each time I do Ritual. I am learning how powerful I truly am. I am learning how resilient my heart is and how much steel is really in my spine.
I have again, I’ll be it slowly, begun to see the magic that resides in the sky, the flowers, the way the clouds move. I am stumbling still with the human factor, but I am starting to be comfortable in recognizing that it does not make me any less whole.
This Witch is proud. This Witch is humbled. This Witch has so much to learn. This Witch knows the Gods have her back. This Witch knows what it means to be part of the vast and noble Pagan family. Being this Witch helps me navigate the shadows. Being this Witch helps me hang on to the light that I contain as well.
Standing Still at the Speed of Light 