If you read my last post and thought “I’d like to know more about The Wheel of the Year!” and headed on over to the Google, then you probably found plenty of stuff about Wicca. While I respect others’ rights to practice as they see fit, I certainly don’t want to be misrepresented as something I’m not. So, let’s talk about witchcraft! Witches come in so many varied forms with different thoughts, practices and beliefs, just like every other people group. In my personal experience, when people hear the term ‘witch’ they think of Wicca, and possibly also of things that are scary, evil, demonic, and satanic. They speculate in hushed whispers if they even dare to discuss such things at all and it’s all based on conjecture. Very few people have actually met or talked to a witch of any sort. There was a time when I also had those misconceptions about witches. Since then, I’ve learned that the diversity amongst those who claim ‘witch’ is as varied as could be.
If someone looked at me and likened me to a witch, I’d consider that a compliment (depending on the tone of course!) The turning point for me was meeting other women who used the term to describe themselves - grounded, intelligent, curious, passionate, social-justice-minded women who were working hard to reclaim and share with others the old folk-ways that have been lost to us. From these women I learned the beginnings of how to make my own simple herbal medicines to care for myself and those I love, I learned the craft of making a hand-broom, and I learned how to sit in community with other women and with the plants and animals in my life and be open to learning from them. These women embodied the spirit of folk-witchery - researching, learning through oral tradition or from master craftswo/men, and sharing this folk knowledge with others to rediscover, reclaim, and preserve heritage while also nurturing skills of self-reliance.
Through these experiences the term ‘witch’ became to me synonymous with a reclamation of feminine strength. Women have always been gatekeepers in their communities of traditional healing practices and rich oral tradition. Consider the power of a warm bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup when you’re feeling poorly. It has an extra healing quality because it was made for you by someone with love. Recall how it felt to have a parent read to you before bedtime as you curled up in their lap. Have you ever slipped a hand-knit garment over your head and felt the difference in the handmade craftsmanship - especially if it was handmade just for you? The women in our lives who cook, share wisdom, and craft with their hands are actively investing their time, energy, creativity and love into nurturing those around them. Is that not wonderfully magical?
Women have been less-than and subjugated throughout history, even as they’ve offered these humble and nurturing gifts to their families. They’ve persevered through persecution and violence and still make sure that the garden is planted, the house is maintained and their family is fed and clothed. “Witch” has been one of the terms leveled against women who were too independent, or different, or outspoken, or solitary, or just unliked. It is one of many terms used to perpetuate justifiable violence against women. So is there any better way to turn that violent paradigm on its head than to reclaim the term for good?
So call me a witch if you want! I believe in the old folk practices that ensured the survival of my ancestors and gave me the life I have today. I believe in the power of plants to heal common ailments and in the power of animals to teach me lessons for good living. I make magic every day with each handcraft I lovingly prepare and with all of the foods I make in my kitchen: nourishing bone broth in my Instant Pot, healing fermented vegetables in giant mason jars, delicious fruit compotes bubbling away on the stove. I put myself into each of these through my ongoing practice, learning, and hard work. I enjoy sharing the fruits of my labor and even more than that, I love sharing my experiences to encourage others that they too could do these same simple practices to nourish themselves and those they love.
I nurture my garden and in return it cares for me. By paying attention to my plants, they tell me what they need. With each prune, I communicate an encouraging pattern for continued healthful growth and with each limply wilted leaf they let me know they’d like some more water as we move into these hotter August days. I keep a pet snail and with careful observation I learn many life lessons about taking care of myself, practicing mindfulness, savoring things more and rushing through life less. The snail is my teacher because I take time to watch and listen.
Do these things make me different - a woman who takes time for snails and talks to plants? Yes, in a time when lives feel harried and people are disconnected from nature and from each other, these things make me different. But they are life-affirming differences that I stand by and humbly suggest would add value to others’ lives as well.
Would these differences be enough to condemn me in earlier days when a woman’s differences labeled her ‘witch’ and condemned her to suffering and death? Yes, I suspect they would. And that is why it’s so important to me to reclaim the word for good. To live an extraordinary life and model for others how to care for themselves, their communities, and Mother Earth. To reclaim old folk-practices that can enable us to do just that: fermentation, simple medicine making, gardening, all of these skills that have been lost to us just in the last few generations as we’ve taken the route of industrialization and convenience-shopping.
To live as a witch is an act of civil disobedience. To love well and gain self-reliance independent from the broken social system in which we’re all living is counter-cultural. I live a magical life because I’ve learned how to make magic with the things that I make in the kitchen, the letters I write to loved-ones, and the things I craft with my hands - and I multiply the magic when I share these things with others. I live an enchanted life because I look for magic all around me, in the dew-drops on a spider’s web, in the new blossom in my garden, in the comfort of a pet snail. If there’s one thing this sorrowful and weary world could use, it’s more light and magic, and I’m committed to keeping these small magical moments alive and sharing them with everyone I can.
