{"id":618,"date":"2015-08-11T20:59:50","date_gmt":"2015-08-12T04:59:50","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/admin.patheos.com\/blogs\/shekhinahcalling\/?p=618"},"modified":"2015-08-11T21:17:53","modified_gmt":"2015-08-12T05:17:53","slug":"why-im-still-a-witch","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/shekhinahcalling\/2015\/08\/11\/why-im-still-a-witch\/","title":{"rendered":"Why I’m Still a Witch"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

The short answer: I\u00a0have no idea.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ll start this post with a confession. I\u2019ve barely practiced in the past month. My altar\u2019s gathering dust. I hid my Morrigan shrine when we had guests and I haven\u2019t set it back up. My practice always waxes and wanes to some extent, but for the past few weeks, I\u2019ve been having some serious doubts.<\/p>\n

Partly it\u2019s because the blogosphere is so damn toxic and judgmental. People whom I suspect are very nice in real life throw barbs like the Internet was a dart board. I feel constant pressure to describe my relationship with the Morrigan in a way that conforms to that of the hardliners. How do I tell people that the Morrigan is okay with me not tending her shrine for awhile? How do I tell people that she\u2019s okay with me not even believing she exists a good portion of the time? How do I tell people that I\u2019m<\/em> okay with that? The attitude of \u201cif you displease the gods, you\u2019ll be sorry\u201d is so insistent, its volume turned up so high, that I feel like there\u2019s no space for those of us whose experiences tell them otherwise.<\/p>\n

The consequences of me not tending my Morrigan shrine aren\u2019t being struck by lightning, or having my bones broken, or the earth swallowing me up. The consequences are nothing more\u2013and nothing less<\/em>\u2013than a dampened, atrophied spiritual practice. But every moment\u00a0is an opportunity to begin again, and the Morrigan is patient with me. That\u2019s my experience, and there are a lot of people out there for whom that is not okay.<\/p>\n

But if you read this blog regularly, you already know my complaints about the blogosphere. When I get really fed up, I just stop reading blogs for awhile.<\/p>\n

My more serious doubts have been coming from other sources. I attended my first Reclaiming Witchcamp last month, and it wasn\u2019t the transformative experience my friends had all described to me. Don\u2019t get me wrong\u2013the magic definitely worked. We worked with the story of Baba Yaga, and my life was suitably upended as soon as\u00a0I got back. It\u2019s not fun to realize that you have to quit your job and find a new home for\u00a0your beloved cat on the same day. (Both situations involved a lot of pissing contests.) But while some of my friends spend the entire year looking forward to the next camp, I have yet to\u00a0feel any\u00a0need to go back.<\/p>\n

In fact, Witchcamp made me wonder whether the Reclaiming Tradition is\u00a0really a good fit for me at all. That, in turn, made me wonder why\u00a0I want to practice witchcraft in the first place. When I talked to my husband about it, I compared my doubts to trying to find a jewel in a pile of dirt. I know<\/em> it\u2019s there: something beautiful and rare\u00a0and worth searching for. But damn, how much longer can I keep digging? (Incidentally, the Baba Yaga myth involves sifting through dirt and picking out what\u2019s useful.)<\/p>\n

But here\u2019s what\u2019s really telling. Even when I don\u2019t feel any need to practice, even when I feel certain that\u00a0it\u2019s all a bunch of hooey, even when I start looking into Shabbat services at the progressive synagogue not too far from my home, I can\u2019t stop thinking like a witch.<\/p>\n

\"Champion_des_dames_Vaudoises\"<\/a>
Image credit Wikipedia<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I notice patterns: in the weather, in the things people say, in coincidences that feel just a little too perfect.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m mesmerized\u00a0by nature: the bee hovering by the lavender blossoms, the seed that falls on my picnic table.<\/p>\n

I converse with the Morrigan, even when I\u2019m sure I don\u2019t believe in her.<\/p>\n

I put on my little pentacle ring\u2013the one that, miraculously, no one at work has ever noticed\u2013and feel a sense of comfort.<\/p>\n

And I know I\u2019ll always be a witch, whether I want to be or not. Whether or not I stay with Reclaiming, whether my practice retains its current form or morphs into something new, whether I keep practicing witchcraft as a religion at all or turn more towards Jewish-flavored\u00a0cunning\u00a0craft\u2013witchcraft is in my blood, wound about my DNA.<\/p>\n

In Reclaiming terminology, my Younger Self is drawn to it, and my Talking Self obediently follows. When my mind resists, I follow my body. My hands light the candles. My knees kneel before the altar. So be it. I take in the beauty.<\/p>\n

\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Hey! Do you like my writing? Then click here to like Asa West on Facebook<\/a>\u00a0and get it crammed in your face all the time!<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The consequences of me not tending my Morrigan shrine aren’t being struck by lightning, or having my bones broken, or the earth swallowing me up. The consequences are nothing more–and nothing less–than a dampened, atrophied spiritual practice. 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