Witchy Questions: How long have you been practicing?

This post is inspired by Question #10 on this list.

I wonder what it really accomplishes to tell you that I’ve been practicing witchcraft for twenty one years now. What does it tell you? What doesn’t it tell you? Does it provide any of the nuance that an accounting of that twenty one years would? Does the number alone give you any inkling of the year that I was studying intensively and having great spiritual and magical experiences versus the year that I just floated along, barely even thinking of my Craft? Am I supposed to sit down and subtract years like the latter one from the total to be more ‘honest”? What about the years where I wasn’t even sure I considered myself a witch and explored other Pagan paths? Though those other paths usually had an element of magical practice as well.

So let me tell you what I think it should tell you. It should tell you that I’ve had twenty one years in which to have a wide variety of experiences, learn a variety of lessons, decide what’s really important to me, and be humbled by a glimpse of what I still don’t know and may never know (sometimes that lesson was reinforced through exchanges with Craft Elders who have been doing this even longer than I have). I’ve had enough time and experience to get beyond the “I know everything/I’m the expert” stage so many of us tend to go through at some point in our journeys. I’m experienced enough to have learned first-hand that even a baby witch just starting out can have an amazing insight or express something in a new way that I find marvelous and eye opening. I have enough experience that I might be able to offer insight and wisdom that those less experienced than me might find beneficial, but the wisdom to know that’s not guaranteed.

Finally, it should tell you that I have twenty one years worth of stories to tell. Some of those stories will interest you. Some of those stories will bore you. Some of them, you may find downright pointless. The fun is in the sharing of them. So bring your own stories, because surely you have some (many) of your own. Let’s take turns.

Witchy Questions: Do you curse? If not, do you accept others who do?

This post is inspired by Question #9 on this list.

It often amuses me when the topic of cursing comes up. Among many witches — especially eclecstic Wiccans — there’s an almost knee-jerk impulse to denounce the very idea of cursing and insisting that no witches do it. Which simply isn’t true, by the way. While I certainly understand the impulse — after all, who wants to go on being depicted as someone who throws hexes around like trashy insults — it’s simply not true. Cursing is a part — even if only a tiny part — of many witchcraft traditions. It is an option — and sometimes an ethical option — that we witches have available to us.

What I also find interesting is that many who instantly decry curses seem — to me at least — to have very separate set of ethics when it comes to working magic than the ethics they might apply to the rest of their lives. As someone who posits that any distinction between magic and so-called “mundane acts” are arbitrary and meaningless, this doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.

Of course, I also think that it bears exploring what exactly we think of when we talk about “curses.” What is the criteria for determining that a given magical working is a “curse”? Do we apply it consistently? I’m personally inclined to include anything that causes harm or interferes with free will. By that definition, I would argue that even binding spells — which many of the witches who will emphatically tell you that you must never curse anyone are okay with — are actually curses then. They are designed to prevent someone from being able to do something. That’s effectively interfering with their free will to do that thing. In fact, I find it interesting that when Gardner wrote about a binding spell he witnessed, the person leading the rite had to work themselves into a “killing rage” in order to the spell. That sounds pretty extreme to me!

That leads me to considerations beyond ethics when it comes to cursing. Curses bring a toll. To curse someone, I would need to tap into energies and currents and let them through my body and soul that I’d normally rather not expose myself to. So in addition to determining whether that the situation makes the choice to curse a particular person ethical, I must determine if doing so in a particular situation is worth allowing that kind of energy into my life.

Note that this is not the same as worrying about harm coming back to me “three times” like some sort of karmic boomerang. I pretty much think that idea is bullshit. But there are other, more nuanced and personal consequences that can result.

Also, most curses — and again, this includes binding spells — also tends to tie you to the person the spell is against. Even if it’s just the continued emotional need to know if it worked. Even if it’s just keeping that person in your mind. Sometimes, it’s just better to let these things go.

Personally, I’ve performed a handful of binding spells and one curse of the “may you forever be miserable” type. I don’t regret any of them. And if I think that another situation merits — or even demands it — me working magic toward such a goal again, I will do so. But I fully expect such situations to be incredibly rare.

As for associating with other witches who curse, I’m more inclined to explore how a particular person approaches the ethical implications of cursing and make a decision about how I feel about associating with that particular person. It’s not a simply yes or no question to me.

On Politics and Witchcraft

When I first started getting into Paganism and the Craft back in the late 1990’s, I tended to view myself as apolitical. I definitely saw my Craft as such. I looked at authors like Starhawk and found their interpretation of the Craft as completely strange and possibly even a bit heretical — even if I would have otherwise bragged that witchcraft has no concept of heresy.

In the roughly two decades, my views have changed quite a bit.This is something that became evident to me the other day on Twitter when another witch was making similar comments about the Craft not being political. Today, I have to admit that, while I’m inclined not to audit another person’s practice of witchcraft, I have a hard time imagining a truly apolitical expression of the Craft. Part of that my understanding of politics has changed to the point where I tend to believe that the mere act of existing is political. The rest of it has to do with how my understanding of and approach to the Craft has changed.

To me, every practice of witchcraft has one tenet or goal in common: Self-empowerment which leads to the exercise of one’s own personal autonomy. (Seriously, if anyone’s practice of the Craft doesn’t include this goal, tenet, or ideal, I’d be very interested to hear more.) Self-empowerment and establishing one’s personal autonomy is one of the greatest political acts out there. It is the most foundational motive and goal underneath so many progressive political causes and movements. And self-empowerment and personal autonomy are things that many political forces — especially those rooted in authoritarianism. Embracing witchcraft is practically a direct rejection of certain political ideologies.

In addition to this, I also consider how much of my witchcraft is rooted in the idea that everyone is connected and, in my belief at least, sacred. While this view may not be universal, I still think it’s fairly common among witches. I think it’s hard, if not downright impossible, to see how everything and everyone is connected and the sacredness of it all and not wish to respond to that with a desire to work towards a more just world for all to everyone’s benefit. And at some point, I feel like that’s going to get political. Even if we act locally and support certain causes through volunteer work, that’s still political. Even if we help people individually through direct assistance or gifts. And at some point, we have to look at the impact that certain political ideology has on us and our sacred siblings (which, again, is literally everyone) and respond to that.

I guess I still personally have no use for the particular ways in which Starhawk and those like her have fused their practice of the Craft and their politics together. But I have grown to see that my Craft and my politics do not exist completely separate from each other. Both work together and each one influences the other.

Witchy Questions: How would you define your craft?

This post is inspired by Question #8 from this list.

I want to start this blog post with the same disclaimer I put at the start of each podcast episode. As the saying goes, ask twelve witches the same question, get at least thirteen different answers. The answer to this question is absolutely how I define and perceive my own practice of the Craft and should not be taken as an attempt to define or prescribe anyone else’s practice. With that out o the way, on with my answer.

I really hate definitions. I especially hate giving definitions for terms that describe complex ideas. And if anything is a complex idea, it is witchcraft and how I practice it. But I have to try, so here we go:

My Craft is a religio-magical practice that is loosely based on Norse mythology and lore and involves cultivating working relationships with the goddess Freyja and other incorporeal beings and working sympathetic magic.

A few comments on the various elements of the definition:

  • religio-magical: My practice is not atheistic. I believe in the Divine and part of my Craft involves connecting with and relating to the Divine in certain ways.
  • loosely based on Norse mythology and lore: i center my practice around what I’ve learned about Norse an other Germanic cultures of old and their beliefs and myths. However, i say “loosely based” because I’m not exactly trying to perfectly clone those ancient practices (which wouldn’t be possible anyway). Also, I am somewhat eclectic in that I will incorporate other tools and ideas into my practice. One example of this is my use of tarot in divination as well as the runes.
  • cultivating relationships with Freyja: Again, my Craft is not atheistic. I have a strong relationship with the goddess Freyja and she teaches me and offers me her counsel. Her nature and values also influence and are reflected in my Craft. For example, it tends to be highly sensual and passionate.
  • and other incorporeal beings: Mediumship and shamanistic techniques are a strong part of my Craft. Speaking to, learning from, and asking for help from spirits is a common part of my practice.
  • working sympathetic magic: I tend to do simple magic where I use something to represent something else. Or I perform an act one or with something to mimic what I wish to happen.

I hope that it’s obvious that this a simplification/distillation of my Craft. No definition is going to be perfect or cover everything. I suspect if I were to attempt this exercise in another month, I’d come up with a definition that is at least somewhat different. All the same, I’m rather pleased with this one. I find it workable.

Witchy Questions: What are some of your favorite herbs to use in your practice? (if any)

This post is inspired by Question #7 from this list.

I don’t use many herbs. I’m certainly not the kind of witch who is a genius at tinctures. About the only time I use raw herbs would be burning some purifying herbs — such as lemongrass — to ritually cleanse an area. Or I might drop some raw dragon’s blood, myrrh, and/or frankincense (I guess resins count as herbs, yes?) on a charcoal brick as an offering to the Divine.

Joe and I also both like to use stick incense — which is often based on herbs — when we meditate or offer devotions. Favorites there include sandalwood, amber (I think I’m really pushing the definition of “herb” with that one), and dragon’s blood. There are also a few incense sticks we like that are a mix of different herbs that I couldn’t necessarily identify.

Witchy Questions: Do you use tarot, palmistry, or 
any other kind of divination?

This post was inspired by Question #6 on this list.

This is probably going to be a bit of a short answer, seeing as I already did an entire podcast episode about divination last summer. Personally, I think divination is absolutely essential to witchcraft or any other spiritual practice. Divination is what allows a dialogue between yourself and whatever you believe in — gods, guiding spirits, your higher self, you unconscious mind, or something else — and makes your spiritual and magical practice interactive. It’s a way to gain insight into what it is you want to accomplish and possibly how to best go about it. Personally, I am accustomed to using both runes — though I don’t divine with them nearly as often as I incorporate them into my magical workings — and tarot. And of course, I would also considering meditation and other practices I use to communicate directly with my goddess to be a type of divination.

Witchy questions: Do you work with a Pantheon?

This post is inspired by Question #5 from this list.

I touched on this briefly in my last post, in which I talked about my relationship with Freyja and other Norse deities. By and large, I like to keep my emphasis on focus on the Norse deities, as it allows me to keep things within the context of a single system of myths and lore. While I admire others who seem to have no problem working with and relating to deities from diverse cultural sources, it’s just not generally something that appeals to me, nor do I feel it would work well for me. Partly, I think this goes back to the idea that my ability to call on and relate to other Norse deities stems from the relationship they and I both have to Freyja. If I were to try to reach out to a Celtic deity, it would require extra work and would feel like more of a “cold call” to me.

The one exception is the Greek god Pan, who I occasionally feel drawn to. I think that has to do with the sexual energies he represents from a more masculine point of view, something I don’t quite feel with Freyja. What’s interesting to me is that I don’t have that same feeling toward Freyja’s own brother, Freyr, despite the fact that he is a deity of fertility and sexuality. But to me at least — and I’d be curious to hear the thoughts of other people with experience with Freyr — his sexual energy feels much more tame and civilized than his sister’s energy. I tend to attribute this to the fact that his fertility is linked tot he fertility of the land, often described as the king married to the land. It feels to me as if that crown and his obligations calms and constrains his own sexual energy. Pan, on the other hand, has that wild and even chaotic sexual energy that I am so familiar with through Freyja, and that appeals to me.

Witchy Questions: Do you have a Patron God/dess?

This post was inspired by Question #4 on this list.

In my early years of trying to find my way in Paganism, I became a member of Ar nDraiocht Fein/A Druid Fellowship. At the time (and presumably today), that organization’s Dedicant Program strongly pushed seeking out and finding a patron deity or a pair of them. I didn’t find or connect with Freyja until after I dropped my membership, but that push for finding a patron deity or two stuck with me and has shaped my path since then.

A while back, I found a Patheos post by Ian Corrigan in which he talked about some of the motivations behind the inclusion of patronage as a central part of the ADF Dedicant program as well as some criticisms of it. I also found some of his views on the topic and how he tended to instruct newcomers at the time of that post’s writing worthy of consideration.

I especially like how Ian focuses on the idea of emphasis without exclusivity. While I have a tight relationship with Freyja, which I have talked about elsewhere, I am not forbidden from speaking with or establishing relationships with other deities. It’s as though she and I have a simple relationship: I am to keep my commitments to her and am then free to do as I please.

One of the other things that I personally find is that my relationship with Freyja can shape my relationships with other Norse deities and can provide context and even a starting point for them. For example, if I need the aid of Thor, I feel that being strongly connected with a goddess who has helped him out with a sticky situation or two (see: lending out her falcon cloak so Loki could find Thor’s hammer when it was stolen) gives me a certain standing to call on him.

Of course, at the same time, i was building a relationship with Freyja, I also thought about building a relationship with Thor on its own merits. This was at a time when “gender balance” was more important to me in my divine interactions. Alas, my attempts to build something with Thor was quickly demolished when I found myself ushered into the presence of Odin who informed me that I needed to work with him and his energies instead.

Of course, at this point, I don’t really consider even Odin to be a patron deity. This is partly because he is not ever-present int he same way Freyja is. In fact, it’s probably been a couple years in which I’ve really felt his presence at all. For a while, I’d feel him only at those times — often in the spring — when it seemed he felt I had become too comfortable and needed to undergo yet another change or transformative process. Nowadays, he seems to be content to let me be. Which leaves me wondering if the patronage of a deity may not be as permanent as I once thought.

Witchy Questions: What is your zodiac sign?

This post is inspired from Question #3 on this list.

I have a strange relationship with astrology. For the longest time, I found it confusing and even looked at it with a little suspicion and distrust. It wasn’t until I read “A Changing Sky” that I really came to understand or appreciate this particular discipline at all. In the book, Forrest looked at astrology as a language, and that just clicked for me. I’m still not a huge astrology aficionado and I’m a dabbler at best when it comes to interpreting natal charts. But at least I have a somewhat deeper understanding and can understand why so many other witches find this a useful tool to pursue more fully and gain a deeper understanding.

Of course, it’s also interesting to me how everyone seems to focus on their sun sign. My sun sign is Gemini, but I don’t consider that the most interesting bit of information in my chart. To my mind, the most interesting bit in my chart is still the fact that Venus was in Taurus at the time of my birth. What makes that particularly interesting is that Venus is the only planet in my entire chart that finds itself in an earth sign, making it a singularity. Understanding my affectionate, sensual nature and how it affects my relationships — especially my romantic relationships — is important to me.

And to be honest, I find that piece of information much more useful as a witch than knowing what my sun sign — which traditionally represents one’s ego identity — is. I’d far more explore how I relate to others. Or how my hopes and dreams are influenced by Jupiter.

Witchy Questions: Do you consider yourself Wiccan, Pagan, witch, or other?

Today’s post is inspired by Question #2 on this list.

The word I use most often to describe myself is witch because I think that’s the best word for me. I’m an individual who practices something that is a fusion of magic and spirituality. Since that spirituality is not rooted in any particular tradition or culture — despite the fact that I heavily lean toward Norse mythology and lore — the most appropriate generic term for what I do is witchcraft. I personally do not like Wicca because in reality, my practice doesn’t really resemble what most people see as the the most common defining characteristics of Wicca.

I also identify as Pagan, as I do believe in a plethora of gods and tend to identify with the greater Pagan community. I don’t use that word much to describe myself, as I think it’s almost too generic and vague to really define who I am or what I do.

If I really want to get specific, I will often use the term Vanic witch, to draw more attention to how central my relationship to Freyja is in my understanding and practice of my Craft. On rare occasion, I will even refer to myself as a seithman (in fact, I use that as part of one of my email addresses), in reference to the practice of seidh. (Note: My practice doesn’t exactly match that as described in the linked site. But there’s certainly enough similarities, that I find it worth perusing. And I find it very inspiring.)

The thoughts of a gay witch living in upstate New York.