Category Archives: Witchcraft

Being a Curmudgeonly Witch: Asking for “First Spells”

Hello readers! For today’s blog post, i want to put on my old curmudgeon hat and grump a little about a trend I’ve seen lately that I just don’t understand. It’s about a request I’ve seen multiple times on social media. Here’s a pretty good example (the link is to my answer) of the kind of question I’m talking about:

What are some recommended spells for beginners in Wicca and witchcraft that are safe and effective?1

Understand that this post is not a rant about requests for spells in general. While I don’t personally believe in handing out “spells” to random strangers 99% of the time (I recently made an exception), i don’t blame people who make the request. Many witches — especially those who are just starting out — may need or even want help figuring out how to construct a spell. Seeing examples of spells other witches and magicians have developed can be instructive.2

Nor am I opposed to relatively new witches looking to get into magic right away. I think most of us would be kidding ourselves if we didn’t admit that working magic was a major motivator to get into witchcraft. And while I tend to practice a theistic form of witchcraft and would never consider my witchcraft solely in terms of “casting spells,” I do consider magic an important part of my practice. And everyone has to start sometime. So while I might encourage newer witches to spend some time working on basic disciplines like meditation and energy work, I would consider it reasonable for them to try their hand at actually working a little magic shortly after, if not concurrently. After all, what better way to practice those disciplines?

No, what bothers me about these questions is the failure to answer a simple question:

What do you want a spell to do?

I find myself looking at this question and wondering if there’s really a new batch of witchlings out there looking to cast any old spell just for the sake of casting a spell. If so, that’s just not a mentality I grok. When I got into witchcraft, it seemed pretty clear and obvious to me that the point of doing magic to accomplish something — usually something you needed or wanted to occur. It was this spirit in which I wrote my free magic lesson post back in 2019.

And surely there are things these witchlings want, yes? Besides just casting a spell for the sake of casting a spell? Surely they want to find love? Or maybe they need help paying a bill? Heck, this new trend to ask for spells without a desired goal in mind almost makes me long for the days when people would pop into witchcraft discussion boards to ask for a spell to change their hair or eye color.3

The only thing I can figure is that some people are drawn to witchcraft for the sense of self-empowerment. Looking to cast any old spell might feed into that desire for power and give them a sense that yes, they can work magic. And I can respect that. But imagine how much more empowering it is when that spell actually addresses a need or want you actually have. Plus, intent is an important aspect of effective magic, and actually focusing on an intent you actually want is helpful.

But what I’m really hoping is that these are just poorly worded questions. I’m hoping most newer witches still come to the craft seeking to use magic to fulfill needs and wants just beyond casting spells for their own sake. But some days, I worry.

Footnotes

  1. I will note that this particular question was not submitted by a person, but generated by the Quora Prompt Generator. However, I’ve seen this or similar questions asked by actual people as well. ↩︎
  2. I will note, though, that I encourage people to use the spells they get from other sources as templates for developing their own. At the very least, I think it’s wise to modify such spells to “make it their own.” Magic that we put our own effort into designing tend to be more effective, in my experience. Plus, how will you ever learn to craft your own spells/magical workings if you don’t try? ↩︎
  3. Yes, I did come to witchcraft right around the time The Craft was released/at the height of its popularity. Why do you ask? ↩︎

Covens as a model for small groups?

A little over a week ago, Meghan Crozier offered the following cheeky comment1 over on Twitter:

https://twitter.com/thepursuinglife/status/1784019830280163693

While Meghan’s tweet was cheeky, a lot of us in the deconstruction community tend to have complicated feelings about small groups as we experienced them within the evangelical church (and possibly in other related authoritarian religious settings). Such small groups can often be another mechanism of control over members of the church and religion. They can also force a sense of intimacy between members of the group that they are not ready for and may not feel safe with.

And yet, as always, I’m the kind of person who is not ready to just throw the baby out with the bathwater2 and when I typed up my own response to Meghan’s tweet I came to a realization: In witchcraft, covens are more or less small groups.3

Granted, there are a lot of witches and other Pagans that don’t like the thought of being in a coven. And I do have to wonder how many of them feel that way because they’re applying their baggage from past experiences in Christian churches to their perception of covens. But neither covens nor small groups have to be for everyone.

At its core, a coven is simply a small group of witches that get together to collectively work magic, explore whatever spiritual mysteries they might embrace, and serve any powers they might believe in. Also, coven members also meet together to learn and develop their witchcraft practice together. To my mind, this mirrors my experiences in church/Christian small groups.4

Personally, my experience with covens has been greatly positive, and think that kind of comradery comes with great benefits. I also think that there are a few key features of covens that typically prevent them from having the same problems as church/Christian small groups.5

The biggest difference is that the evangelical church (and similar churches) tends to be quite authoritarian in structure and outlook, and that tends to get replicated in their small groups as a matter of course. Such small groups have leaders that tend to be able to exert a certain amount of influence and power over the other members of the group. Then the group itself is typically under the authority of the pastor (and other members of leadership) of the church itself. In most churches, a pastor or the elders can pressure small group leader about how they run the group and even disband the group altogether.6

Covens tend to be far more autonomous. Indeed, most covens are an island unto themselves. Even in an initiatory tradition like Alexandrian Wicca, once a Witch7 is elevated to the third degree and establishes their own coven, that Witch is free to run that coven independently.8

Similarly, individual coven members are given the autonomy to stay or leave as they please. So even if a coven leader has ultimate authority on coven matters (and they often do), members who don’t like the direction being taken are free to “vote with their feet” and leave.9 Typically, since a coven with no members ceases to exist, this leads most coven leaders to at least listen to other members’ input and seek out ways to keep them around. (Though there is such a thing as a coven and an individual not being a good fit, and parting ways really is the best and only option.)

In my experience, the way that intimacy and vulnerability is encouraged and developed tends to be different between church small groups and covens. Many church small groups feel to me like they force the members to become vulnerable to and intimate with the rest of the group. The moment you join such a small group, it’s expected — and those expectations are often explicitly stated — that you will start sharing deeply personal details about yourself, experiences you’ve, and even “sins” you’re “struggling with.” This is a level of intimacy and vulnerability that could be weaponized against you (and many have experienced exactly that) and you’re expected to submit to it before there’s been any effort to build any assurance that it won’t be.

Covens also tend to require a similar level of intimacy and vulnerability,10 but much more time is typically spent building up the sense of trust and safety between members before then. To illustrate what I’m saying here, I want to talk about my own past a bit.

Back in the 2000s, I joined a Yahoo Group where initiates and seekers discussed British Traditional Wicca. I had learned about non-initiatory (“eclectic”) Wicca and had decided it wasn’t for me. At that time, I had also discounted initiatory Wicca, assuming it was basically the same thing. As I joined the list, I learned that the assumption was incorrect and found out that in many ways, the Wicca the initiates and elders of the group discussed seemed far more similar to the kind of witchcraft I practiced. So I became a fairly involved member of the group, posed questions, and even shared my own thoughts. As a result, I ended up making friends with a number of members in the group.

One of the people I made friends with was an Alexandrian High Priestess who was living in the province of Ontario in Canada. We began to exchange emails outside of the group and after about a year, she invited me to a public Pagan event in Ontario. I accepted and had a great time, not least of which because I got to finally meet a Witch I had come to admire and respect.

After that first in-person meeting, we continued to converse via emails and I think we even met in person in public a couple more times. Eventually, though, she invited me to come visit her and her husband at her home and even spend a weekend with them. I accepted and made the six hour trek on the appointed Friday. While there, I met her husband, and a couple of members of both her coven and her outer court. I even had the opportunity to attend one of her outer court rites, which was a deeply moving experience.

It was during this trip that we discussed the possibility of me training with and eventually becoming an initiate in her coven.11 Note that it took one to two years to even get to that first conversation. During that time, we had talked frequently, met a few times, and had already started building a relationship. And while the idea of joining an Alexandrian coven was still scary, I felt that if I was going to join one, this was the one I’d probably be able to trust.

And my would-be High Priestess was okay with my trepidation. She expected it. She did not chide me for it, but took it in stride. At one point during that weekend, the topic of ritual nudity came up once. Like most people, the thought of being naked around other people made me uncomfortable. She acknowledged that and simply said that it’s something we could work on in time if I wanted to pursue membership in her coven.12

I think this slow build-up without a sense of pressure to join, fit in, or become immediately intimate with a small group is vital to healthy small group dynamics.

I’d be interested to hear what thoughts my readers have on this topic. Do you think my comparison is a fair one? Do you think there are other ways that covens demonstrate ways to create and maintain a healthy small group? Do you think there are potential pitfalls that are unique to covens? If so, how would you recommend preventing them from arising or mitigating them? Let us know in the comments.

Footnotes

  1. I should note that while that Tweet was cheeky, the thread she was quoting from when making it was quite serious. In that thread, Meghan was talking about one manifestation of the all-too-human tendency for many of us who are deconstructing our white evangelical Christian backgrounds to recreate some of the problematic elements and patterns from those backgrounds in our new spaces and communities. This is a real problem and one that Meghan and Cortland Coffey discuss somewhat frequently, both on social media and in various episodes of the podcast they host together. ↩︎
  2. I daresay that when I left my evangelical faith, I threw out just about every shred of doctrine, but kept a few nuggets of subtle theology, a handful of values I still found useful, a few ideas about community I found helpful, and some spiritual techniques. Not much of it is particularly Christian anymore, but I like to acknowledge where i picked these things up from, as it’s a part of my history. ↩︎
  3. I suspect a similar argument could be made about at least some Heathen kindreds and Druid groves as well. Though both of those are at least theoretically allowed to grow to any size. However, covens are typically expected to be kept rather small. For example, in Wicca, the maximum size for a coven is traditionally set at thirteen members. It’s expected that a coven that grows larger than that will spit into two or more independent (yet related) covens. ↩︎
  4. A lot of my experience with small groups doesn’t come from church, but from my involvement with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship while I was earning my bachelor’s degree. ↩︎
  5. Note that all-important word “typically” in that statement. There are covens and Pagan groups and organizations that are imperfect and absolutely have the same problems as many evangelical (and similar) churches. This is why it’s important to take note if a particular organization, group, or coven doesn’t fit the broad brushstrokes I’m painting with here. If it doesn’t, then what I’m saying will not apply to that particular organization, group, or coven. Also, covens often have their own problems that are different from the problems many of us have with Christian small groups. Those are just beyond the scope of this blog post. ↩︎
  6. Technically, members of a small group would be able to continue meeting without the official blessing of the church. However, given the authoritarian nature of evangelical Christianity (and similar Christianities), I suspect most members would consider this rebellious. Authoritarian followers often feel the need for the approval of the person in authority. It’s one of the things most of us who leave such religious environments need to deconstruct most. ↩︎
  7. While I do not capitalize “witch” in general or when speaking about myself, I am making a conscious effort to do so in this instance. This is because it is a common (though not universal) practice in Wicca to treat “Witch” as a religious term for its members similar to how followers n Christianity are called “Christians” and therefore capitalize it accordingly. ↩︎
  8. There are a few caveats to this. For example, if a coven’s founder starts practicing a different tradition in their coven or changes the practices of the tradition to a degree, the leaders of the coven that taught them may determine that the new coven is no longer practicing the same tradition and not recognize it’s new members/initiates as members of the original tradition. But they cannot stop the leader of the new coven from doing so. Similarly, most new coven leaders tend to seek the advice and guidance of their initiators, appreciating their past experience and wisdom. But again, they are ultimately free to run their own coven as they see fit. At least this is what I’ve learned from the initiatory Wiccans I’ve spoken to. I’m sure if any of them see this and disagree, they’ll be sure to voice their dissent with my assessment. ↩︎
  9. Technically, this option is available to members of Christian small groups as well. However, given the authoritarian nature and claims of exclusivity (i.e. the idea that the very fate of your eternal soul depends on belonging to that particular religion and possibly even that particular church), the thought of just leaving becomes much scarier than it is for a witch, most of whom know they will not suffer for eternity if they’re not part of any coven, let alone a particular coven. ↩︎
  10. I’ll note that witches don’t seem to be as obsessed with “sin” or moral failings though. Our tendency in with regards to moral failings is to take an attitude of, “I messed up. I need to do what I can to clean up after myself and learn from it so I do better in the future.” So conversations within a coven or other group of witches about such things is going to be more focused on asking for advice or assistance in cleaning up with oneself rather than endless self-recrimination and confessions of guilt and shame. This seems to be a common theme of “bonding” among Christian small groups, however. ↩︎
  11. For a variety of reasons, that never manifested. A huge reason for it was that I simply wasn’t ready to take that kind of plunge at that time. By the time I might have been ready, both of our life circumstances had changed so it was no longer an option. I still think of her regularly and often feel a deep sadness that I’ve lost contact with her since then. I’ve made efforts to find her again, but to no avail. I hope you’re doing well, C, wherever you are. (I don’t want to mention her name, as I feel weird doing so, as if I’m name-dropping.) ↩︎
  12. I’ll also note that she had acknowledged me as a fellow witch worthy of respect long before this point. I simply was a different kind of witch. She was simply offering me an invitation to join her family and learn her tradition alongside my current witchcraft practices. I think that a lot of people mistakenly assume that British Traditional Wiccans don’t think the rest of us are “real witches,” but that hasn’t been my experience at all. ↩︎

Another Podcast Appearance: Di the Yoga Witch

This past Thursday, I appeared live with Di the Yoga Witch on her podcast along with her friend Kat. (I didn’t think to ask if I could bring reinforcements!) We had a delightfully rambling conversation where we discussed various “witchy shit” in between random tangents and strolls down memory lane. (Di and I must have met nearly twenty years ago.) If you enjoy meandering conversations about everything from the “Witches of TikTok cursed the moon” rumor to what theistic witchcraft means to me to how lucky both Di and I are for ending up with men who are at least interested in witchcraft and Paganism, I’d encourage you to check it out.

This podcast appearance was another new experience to me, as Di streams her shows live, so we even got some feedback and interaction with one of the people who was watching at the time. It was also one of the most conversationally oriented podcast appearances i’ve made so far. Di and Kat (who I met for the first time tonight) were a delight to talk to.

About a week before the show, Kat had come up with a list of ten questions/conversation topics to possibly cover during the episode.1 We managed to get to six of them, and I could’ve still said a lot more about many of those. But alas, we went well over the planned hour (by sixteen minutes and twenty eight seconds, to be precise). So the other questions will just have to wait for another time.

And that’s the good news: I will be making another appearance on Di’s show. We haven’t set a date, but we both agreed there were more things we wanted to talk about — including things that were not included in the original list of questions. For example, Di would really love to talk to me more about deconstruction and religion in general.

So if you watch this conversation, let Di an myself know what you think!

Footnotes

  1. I will note that Kat deserves a lot of credit, because some of the questions suggest she did a bit of digging into what I’d said online. For example, one of the questions (which we covered) was about what it means to me to be a theistic witch. I would not expect that question from someone unless they’d looked around and noted I specifically refer to myself as such. ↩︎

Learning to love liturgy

In my previous post, I talked about how I love liturgical elements in ritual. This was not always the case. I was raised in an American Baptist church, and Baptists have historically not been huge fans of liturgy. Well, at least not by that name.1

I grew up thinking of something stodgy and unnecessary that Catholics2 do. To be honest, it seemed kind of stodgy and overly complicated. When I got to college and got involved in the more spontaneous worship of the charismatic church a cafeteria worker introduced me to, that opinion only grew worse. In fact, at that point, I started seeing the Baptist churches services of my childhood and teenage years equally stodgy and boring.3

Once I started getting into Paganism, my understanding of liturgy began to change and I started to gain an appreciation for liturgy. I think the firs step in that journey began when I started trying to write about the concept of mystery in Wicca. This was at a time when I was exploring non-initiatory Wicca and remember Scott Cunningham talking about mysteries and mystery traditions in his book. At least I think it was Cunningham where I first encountered the concept.

To help crystalize the concept in my head — and because I was already starting to develop a desire to explain concepts in my new spiritual tradition to others.4 So I decided to do this by writing an article5 in which I described Christian baptism as a mystery rite. I quoted the passage in which Paul describes baptism as symbolic of “dying and rising again with Christ” and suggested ways in which the rite of baptism might be performed to really drive that symbolism home in an experiential way.

At some point, i decided to share the article with a friend who was studying to be an Orthodox priest. He smiled and pointed out to me that I had unwittingly described the way the Orthodox church views the rite of baptism. He also mentioned that in the Orthodox church, the sacraments are often referred to as mysteries.6

Around the same time, I also started exploring other Pagan traditions as I was starting to realize that non-initiatory Wicca wasn’t really for me.7 One of the first organizations I checked out was Ar nDraiocht Fein, a Druid organization founded by Isaac Bonewits. I started working my way through the organizations Dedicant Program. I particularly spent a lot of time learning about the ADF8 ritual structure. I came to understand the purpose of each part of the rite and started to learn that liturgical elements had deep meaning to be explored and experienced. And I could appreciate how my Christian friends who came from Episcopalian and Catholic backgrounds had liturgies that offered that same sense of deeper meaning.

And while I joke about Baptists having liturgy by a different name, I do question the accuracy of that joke. While there was a structure to church services I attended as a kid, that structure seemed utterly devoid of symbolism or meaning. It seems to me that a proper liturgy needs more to it than letting you know when you’re going to sing a song, read from the Bible, collect the weekly offering, and so on.

I feel like my spiritual life has been greatly improved by gaining an appreciation and desire for some liturgy. How about you? Has your perspective on liturgy changed over time? If so, how? Let me know in the comments.

Footnotes

  1. Christian blogger Fred Clark once pointed out that Baptists have some sense of structure to their worship services, but prefer to refer to it by terms like “the order of worship” rather than “liturgy.” ↩︎
  2. Growing up, I didn’t have nearly the exposure to or understanding of the various Christian traditions that I do today. I did not realize that Episcopalians — who I only knew existed because my family drove past an Episcopal church on the way to our own church every Sunday — were similarly liturgical in their practice. ↩︎
  3. Okay, that’s not entirely accurate. I always found the church services of my first church stodgy and boring. I just discovered church services didn’t have to be stodgy and boring when I started going to the charismatic church. ↩︎
  4. Have I ever mentioned that I wanted to be a minister when I was a young Christian? That desire to teach and help others survived the conversion process. In those early years, that was occasionally to my detriment, as I would occasionally think I knew more than I did. At the same time, I also got frequently frustrated at knowing I went to be a “Christian since I measured my age with single digits who had all the answers” to starting over from square one. Ah, the joys of realizing you really are a mediocre white man and not liking it. ↩︎
  5. Alas, my attempts to find a copy in recent years have failed so far. It’s a shame because as I recall, it was a pretty good article. But I think I wrote it for one of the online diary communities I was on and my accounts on those sites are long gone. ↩︎
  6. My friend also shared my article with his bishop at the time. He said the bishop responded by announcing that “I was Orthodox and just didn’t know it yet.” At the time, i was kind of flattered. As I’ve grown over the past decade or two, I still find the comment somewhat flattering, but also roll my eyes at the inherent Christian supremacy of it. ↩︎
  7. Years later, I encountered initiatory Wicca and explored that as well. I found it much more appealing and feel like there is a certain kinship between it and my own witchcraft practice. However, I never became a Wiccan initiate for a variety of reasons. I’ve recently considered whether I’d like to pursue that again. It’s an appealing thought, but I’ve also realized that my life circumstances just don’t make it a good choice. But I reserve the right to revisit that decision periodically. ↩︎
  8. To me, “ADF” will always stand for the Druid organization and not the Christian supremacist legal advocacy and training group (and SPLC-designated hate group) whose names also use the same initials. ↩︎

Ritual style preferences: Exploring a journal prompt from chapter 1 of “Changing Paths”

Earlier this week, I decided to start reading Changing Paths by Wiccan author Yvonne Aburrow. I’ve decided that as part of my effort to get back into blogging, I’m going to take one or more journal prompt Yvonne asks at the end of each chapter every Friday and blog about it here. This week, I’ll be covering a blog prompt from chapter 1, which is titled “What is Religion?” Here’s the prompt I chose:

What type of ritual do you prefer? Formal or informal, structured or spontaneous? Are you drawn to liturgical, celebratory, or magical styles of ritual?

To explore this question, it’s helpful to briefly summarize the types of styles of ritual Yvonne mentions and what they’re characterized:

  • Liturgical rituals are communal rites that are often structured and formalized. Yvonne suggests that they are designed to “avoid outbursts of emotion or spontaneity.
  • Celebratory rituals tend to be informal and involved elements of spontaneity. They note that these tend to be intended to release or unleash power.
  • Magical rituals involve wielding power and directing it toward a desired end.
  • Ceremonial rituals are those in which power is honored and existing power structures are maintained.

As I think of these styles, I find all four styles — or at least elements from them — appealing. I certainly like the familiarity of certain liturgical elements whose symbolism and meanings I can fall upon. Yet I’m not big on “avoiding outbursts of emotion” or embracing a total lack of spontaneity. So I prefer repeating a ritual structure that has been carefully thought out and contains deep meaning for me, yet leaves space for moments from the heart and the interjection of Divine (or human) ecstasy into a particular rite as well.

Of course, it’s no surprise that I like magical rites. After all, magic and witchcraft goes hand in hand (especially if a witch like me who thinks that the very process of connecting with the Divine and/or other people is magical in itself). I also feel that the magical aspect of ritual is what moves me from a mere participant or servant of the Divine to a co-creator with other humans and event he Divine themselves.

Possibly the least ritual style I’m interested in is ceremonial ritual. I’m not a fan of honoring power and maintaining existing power structures. Perhaps it’s just the connotations I personally have with the phrasing Yvonne for it, but the description of ceremonial ritual screams authoritarianism and I tend to be staunchly anti-authoritarian.

And yet, I want to pause and explore my assumptions in my assessment. After all, there are structures that I do think are worth preserving and even necessary. The thing is, I think those structures aren’t authoritarian. And I realize that the idea of non-authoritarian and non-authoritarian structures often feels like an oxymoron, but I do think they exist. We just tend to refer to them by other terms, like “networks” and “communities.”

So could there be a ceremonial ritual that celebrates community and mutual commitment and is designed to strengthen community ties and bonds behind people. Or to put it in terms of Heathen practice, would a Sumble focused primarily and building bonds n the community be seen as ceremonial? Or would it fall under a different style? I’d love to hear people’s thoughts in the comments.

Musings on significance and meaning

“What is the significance of…”

“What does it mean when…”

Over the years, I’ve seen many questions that begin with each of those phrases. This is not surprising. It is a well established fact that many humans have an innate tendency to find significance, meaning, and even patterns where there actually are none. There’s even a term for this.

To give a more concrete example, I’d like to share something I posted on social media yesterday:

I’m reminded that a lot of people don’t realize that our calendar is entirely arbitrary. It’s useful, but arbitrary. So it makes it interesting to me when people try to find meaning in it. Things like “there are two blue moons this year! What does it mean?!” It means that an entirely arbitrary calendar lined up with the lunar cycles in a mildly peculiar way.

There’s nothing wrong with looking for significance or meaning, either. However, often there is neither until we imbue something with our own meaning and significance. This seems to be something some people don’t realize and maybe even be uncomfortable with. They seem to think that some external source — perhaps even some sort of authority — must declare that meaning and significance. Or maybe they’d prefer that such meaning and significance be an inherent property of the universe.

As someone who sees witchcraft as the act of creation (literally making us co-creators of the world we live in and are further building), I welcome the idea that we tend to imbue events and things with meaning and significance. It is essentially part of the creation process, where we imprint our own view of significance and meaning on the world around us, both as individuals and collectively. In fact, I’d say it’s an important part of defining and envisioning the kind of world we want to both create and live in.

My Contribution to the OcculTea Conversation – Topc 4: Capitalising Off Community

The fourth and final topic for the #OcculTea conversation is “Capitalising Off Community.” In this blog post, I will offer my thoughts on the prompt questions provided.

Do I consider online communities as equally valid to in-person communities?

I want to start my answer to this question with the obvious disclaimer that this is my personal opinion. For me, online community and in-person community serve overlapping but distinct purposes. Primarily, I see networking and sharing ideas as something that I seek in both online and in-person communities. However, when it come time to actually work magic and honor my gods communally, I personally prefer to do that in person. So for me personally, both types of community are valid, despite serving different purposes for me.

Having said that, I recognize that other have found ways to work magic and/or honor their gods through online community. As I am a strong believer in “not yucking other people’s yum,” I honor that those people have found a way to do so meaningfully.

How have online occult/witchcraft communities impacted me as a person & practitioner?

Personally, I think online occult/witchcraft communities impacted me more when I was first starting back out. You know, back in the dark ages when we had to use Yahoo Groups and web-based message boards because no one had invented Facebook, Twitter, or any of the other social media sites. At the time, I was still living in a rural part of Pennsylvania and I didnd’t know many witches, occultists, or Pagans near me. So I relied on the Internet to meet like minded people, discuss the things I was learning and the thoughts they inspired, and feel note quite so alone.

Today, I think I still benefit greatly from making connections with others online and getting exposed to a much broader array of ideas and views than I might find in my local community alone. So there’s still the same benefit, but I don’t think I need it quite so critically as I did twenty or so years ago.

What are some of the dangers of the current phenomenon of capitalising off the witchcraft community? Have I been personally affected by this, or have I witnessed someone else be affected?

I think one of my biggest concerns is that there seems to be a lot of consumerism in many parts of the online witchcraft community. Or maybe it’s just the parts I’m mostly exposed to. One of my constant concerns is that newer witches or would-be witches might be left with the impression that being a witch must be expensive by it’s very nature. I think this would be a great tragedy, because we don’t need that kind of classism in witchcraft.

I also want to note that this is not a problem unique to online witchcraft communities. I know people who have been left with a sense that they need to buy a lot of “stuff” to practice witchcraft due to interactions with in-person communities as well. I think the only problem with online communities is that it’s easier to spread that misconception much more broadly online, thereby discouraging more new or future witches.

Should there be paywalled communities and online courses?

Have I mentioned lately that I loathe yes/no questions? I think most of them rquire an answer that is far more nuanced than a simple “yes” or “no.” And this is absolutely one such question.

I think that developing and maintaining a healthy and helpful community takes a lot of time and effort. Preparing and teaching a course similarly takes time and effort. And I think that people who provide something of value to others deserve to be compensated for their time and effort. Also, in the case of an online community, it costs money to rent or self-host the servers that allow the individual members of the community to connect with one another. It seems reasonable to ask members who benefit from that community to chip in to cover those costs.

Having said all that, I’m also aware that this creates another potential for one’s financial status/class to dictate whether or not you get access to such communities and courses. As a result, how much money a person has to spend can impact the quality of their online witchcraft experience. That’s not something that I’m entirely comfortable with, either.

The best solution for this conundrum that I can currently think of is for those of us who are able to do so to help out those who may not be able to afford access to some of these communities and courses. I’m going to use a recent example from another community I’m a part of to illustrate what I’m talking about here. Earlier this month, two podcasts that talk about deconstructing/leaving evangelical Christianity held an event about purity culture, the issues with it, and positive steps people who have escaped purity culture can take to reform how they think about sex and human sexuality in general. There was a fee to attend this event, but numerous generous people donated money to help pay for people who could not afford the fee to attend the event anyway. In the online witchcraft community, I envisioning doing something similar, even to the point of setting up one or more scholarship funds of a sort. This is not a perfect solution, as even such scholarships probably wouldn’t be sufficiently funded to pay for everyone who needs the financial help.

Fortunately, I suspect there will also be those people who provide information, and opportunities to both learn and connect at no expense. As i said, this isn’t a perfect solution, but I will not let the perfect be the enemy of good.

How does one ensure the authenticity of courses/workshops/memberships/etc. as a financial investment?

I think the problem of ensuring whether a particular course, workshop, or community is authentic is a problem regardless of whether there’s money involved. It might get more complicated if you’re considering which courses, workshops, or communities to sign up for when you have a limited amount of funds to pay for them. Even so, I think the answer remains the same. Individuals will need to research the presenter/community organizer and what they are offering and determine whether they find the information/community trustworthy and worth the asking price.

My Contribution to the OcculTea Conversation – Topic 3: Imposter Syndrome and FOMO

The third topic for the #OcculTea discussion is Imposter Syndrome and FOMO. I had to look up what FOMO stood for. so let me save any reader from having to do the same thing: “Fear Of Missing Out.” I want to start this post by pointing out a post I wrote on Tumblr back in October about my own existential crisis over trying to be a content creator. I think that many of the things I talk about there fit well with this discussion. I will likely refer to some of the same themes as I address the prompt questions for this topic.

When I follow other creators in the community space, does it make me feel genuinely inspired and empowered or does it create feelings of FOMO and being less than?

I feel both inspired and intimidated when I look at what other creators are doing and saying online. I’m inspired as it makes me want to work harder and develop my own practice more deeply. At the same time, I find myself wondering if I really have anything to offer as a creator. And I wonder how some of you manage to come up with things to say/write every day. I just don’t feel that chatty.

Of course, some creators I follow aren’t doing the kinds of things I want to do anyway. I follow a lot of people who talk about how they practice witchcraft and even offer a lot of how-to advice and guidance. Personally, that’s just not something I want to do. So I can look at those particular creators and not feel intimidated or set off my imposter syndrome simply by acknowledge that we’re doing different things.

It’s mostly when I look at the creators that talk more about magical theory and/or theology that my imposter syndrome tends to activate.

For the most part, no. I need a reason to read a book (or jump off a bridge, for that matter) other than “everyone else is doing it.”

Now having said that, I have considered that I might need to start reading more books again to get further inspiration and ideas of things to talk about. But I’d rather choose those books based on whether they say anything I wish to engage with rather than whether they’re popular.

In this sense, I think I’ve made peace with the fact that I’m never going to be a “big” creator or influencer. I’m simply going down roads that don’t seem to have the draw as others. My issue is more about whether anyone at all is interested in the things I want to explore and talk about (and whether I really have anything original and/or of substance to say about them).

When practising my craft, do I find myself comparing what I do to what I’ve been seeing people do online?

Only in the sense that I often feel like I lack self discipline and consistency. But these re things I struggle with anyway. I think I’d be concerned about regardless of whether I see other people who seem to have much better consistency and self-discipline. it’s just that seeing them makes me more conscientious of my pre-existing concerns, struggles, and insecurities.

In what ways do I combat imposter syndrome?

I try to remind myself that I am my own person and it’s always dangerous to compare myself to others.

What would my practice look like without the social media influence of other creators?

For the most part, I think it would look exactly as it does now. Though some of my ideas may not be as well fleshed out without the ideas of other people to help get me thinking.

My Contribution to the OcculTea Conversation – Topic 2: Influencer Authenticity

Today, I’ll be tackling the prompt questions for OcculTea topic #2, which is Influencer Authenticity. Of course, I’m not sure I’d consider myself an influencer, but authenticity is important to me. So bear in mind that my thoughts on this post will almost certainly Expand beyond authenticity on the parts of influencers. So with that basic introduction and disclaimer out of the way, let’s get on with the questions.

Out of what I share on social media, how much of it is staged vs. reality?

I’m not sure I fully understand this first question and I suspect that I think it’s setting up a bit of a false dichotomy as well. I think that staging something doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not real, though I acknowledge that this is the colloquial understanding of the concept. But to give you a counterexample, consider the time that my local Unitarian Universalist church invite my (eclectic) coven to speak to their middle school kids during religious education. One of the things we were invited to do was to describe our basic ritual to the students and even give a demonstration. That ritual was staged in a sense. And yet, it was legitimately our ritual and I think conducting it in front of that that class had many of the same results as when we performed it at our covenstead the full moon prior to it.

I will note that I generally don’t discuss the specifics of my practice online. (I’ll note that this is something Yvonne Aburrow and I have in common.) I tend to talk more broadly and about much theory. I also like to get into theology. About the only things I have shared about my practice is that I have shared some of the prayers I have written for devotional purposes. And I think reciting those prayers is a willful act filled with meaning whether I do so on or off camera.

Do I think there is an element of censorship in online spaces? How do I decipher what is “appropriate” to share online vs. what to keep privately? Is this based on “social media etiquette” or a personal preference?

Based on the follow-up question, I get the impression we’re primarily talking about self-censorship. I tend to share things that meet the following criteria:

  • I have a basic right to share it (That is, it’s not something I was given in confidence)
  • It is something I feel comfortable and safe sharing
  • I have no ethical qualms about what others might do with it if I share it or how it might impact them

Have I ever encountered or heard of grifters in our community? Do I recognize them? What are significant signs of grifters in the community?

Beyond the “spellcasters” that advertise their services (usually on Quora), I don’t think I have encountered any grifters. There have certainly people I’ve encountered who make me wonder how much I trust what they’re saying, but event hem I’m typically not convinced there’s an intent to deceive or defraud there. I have no doubt such people exist, however.

What tools are helpful to decipher misinformation, and how can we as a community prevent widespread misinformation?

This is one I think we need to take a certain amount of care with. There are plenty of witchcraft traditions and other occult and related practices out there. I’m not an expert on all of them by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I doubt I’m an expert on any of them! After all, even my own practice continues to develop and evolve over time.

Sometimes, I wonder if people are quick to discount something as “misinformation” when it’s really “something different from what their own tradition teaches.” In that case, I think that we need to be more accurate and say “this is contrary to my own tradition.” And yes, if someone is passing something off as being part of or a teaching of a particular tradition and we know this is false, we need to call that out as misinformation.

For the most part, I think a far more important thing to teach people is to learn to trust themselves, apply critical thinking skill, and figure out what their practice is and looks like. That way they can look at new information and decide whether they find it helpful and consistent with their own practice.

How does a large following impact the perception of the creator? Does this immediately make them an “expert”? Or are there other assumptions as to why they may have a large following?

Personally, I think the size of a creator’s following tells us more about their ability to cultivate a social media presence and following that it does about who they are as a witch or occultist. At most, it might tell us that what they are offering appeals to a lot of people. But again, this goes to my point that there are a lot of practices and traditions out there. A creator may have a witchcraft practice that I or someone else has no interest in for various reasons. I didn’t become a witch to follow the crowd. Though I’ll gladly go with the crowd if they happen to be going in the same direction I’m interested in going too.

How does one maintain the balance of authenticity and content creation?

I struggle with this. It’s probably part of the reason I have trouble creating content on a regular basis.

My Contribution to the OcculTea Discussion – Topic 1: Impact on Community

Yvonne Aburrow over at Dowsing for Divinity made me aware of the OcculTea community discussion regarding witchcraft online, and I naturally decided I had to throw my own pointy hat into the ring. (Who knows, maybe this will be the impetus I need to really get back into blogging or even doing YouTube videos. We’ll see.) As an aside, I’d highly encourage you to check out Yvonne’s own post on this first topic, as they always have interesting things to say.

The first topic and the focus of my blog post is titled “Impact on Community.” The organizers have provided a handy series of prompt questions, which I will spend the rest of this post exploring.

What is my personal reasoning/inspiration behind sharing my practice online? What am I looking to achieve by participating? Do I seek to educate, learn or connect?

I think that my reasons for sharing my practice online include all of those things and possibly more. I want to share information and insights. I want to explore ideas with other people and see what we can come up with together. One of us may have a thought, which might inspire a thought for someone else, and when we share these thoughts, I think that everyone is enriched through the experience.

Even in cases where we may not see eye to eye on certain things, I think that understanding our respective views can help us understand one another and even our own views a bit better.

How do I believe social media, as a whole, has impacted the community?

One positive thing I think it has done is given many of us the ability to connect with like minded people that we may have been isolated from before. Prior to social media and the Internet in general, people were limited to interacting with whatever other witches they could find locally — and some of us lived in places where that was not a large group of people. We often relied on going to large gatherings and conferences — assuming we could afford — to have a few days a few times a year where we didn’t feel quite so alone.

And not to start up the “coven vs. solitary practice” argument again (which I think its a false dichotomy anyway), I think it provided ways for many of us to connect and socialize with one another that didn’t automatically mean we were seeking to worship or work magic together. (Though plenty of people do both of those things online too!)

How do I think social platforms such as TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube have each impacted education/sharing information?

I think such platforms have provided a way to share information and learn things from sources other than books. Not that I have anything against books. But they are not the only way to learn things. And to be honest, I got tired of picking up books that for 80% of the book said the same things the last five books I read said. Paying full price for 20% (at most) new thought and information didn’t seem smart.

I also think videos by nature of their format can be more focused than most books. It can cover a single idea (well, at least the basics) in less than five minutes. To me, that’s getting the 20% of the new information without the repeat information. I like that a lot.

I also think such platforms allow more people to get their ideas out there. It takes a lot of work and skill to write a book and get it published. Anyone can put up a video on YouTube and TikTok. I mean, how hard can it be? I’ve done it. And it’s not just the people who are skilled writers and have 240 pages worth of knowledge to share that have things worth hearing about.

Is consuming witchcraft content becoming a substitute for practice?

Honestly? I think that’s been a problem for a while. I think we as a society have conflated knowing about something with being able to do a thing. I remember someone on the old Yahoo Group Amber And Jet (a group specifically for discussing British Traditional Wicca) talking about the difference between teaching (which typically involves imparting facts) and training (which typically involves walking someone through actually doing something) and how many Seekers need to understand that difference.

So while I think treating the consumption of witchcraft content as a substitute for practice is a concern, I don’t think it’s one that can ultimately be blamed on social media or witchcraft content in general. I think the better question would be what can we online witches do to encourage people to actually start a practice or continue with their current one. I’ll leave that for everyone to discuss in the comments if they’d like.