Witchcraft

My witchcraft practice and Wicca: Similarities and differences

1 Comment

Back in 2020, I mentioned briefly that I do not consider the witchcraft I practice to be Wicca. At the time, I offered the following explanation:

[I]n reality, my practice doesn’t really resemble what most people see as the the most common defining characteristics of Wicca.

I thought that it would be beneficial to write how my own practice tends to differ from both non-initiatory and initiatory Wicca.1 I will also be noting a few places where my practice bears some similarity to WIcca — especially initiatory Wicca.

I want to say up front that this post is meant to be informational only. None of what I say is meant to be a criticism of any form Wicca (whether initiatory or non-initiatory). Nor is it an attempt to suggest that my witchcraft practice is somehow superior. Saying “they’re different” is not the same as saying “one is better,” and it distresses me that many people still seem to interpret the former as the latter.

It’s important to note that my witchcraft practice is deeply rooted in Norse mythology and cosmology, which explains a lot of the differences — especially the more superficial ones — between my practice and Wicca (especially of the non-initiatory type). A lot of the ritual and liturgical elements in Wicca come from other cultures and sources which have no personal significance to me.

For example, most Wiccans seem to focus a lot on the four elements: earth, air, fire and water. However, these four elements just don’t play a part in Norse cosmology. So I’m not inclined to attempt to assign everything an elemental correspondence or call the Quarters.2 I’d rather choose a rune3 or two (or even more) that encapsulates the central mystery or primal concept(s) behind my magical working.

As for constructing ritual space, that’s a complicated topic for me. In fact, I’m still pondering and experimenting with how I want to do this in my witchcraft practice. Obviously, calling the Quarters is something I quickly nixed in my personal practice. A lot of Heathens like to perform the hammer rite — often making the sign of the hammer at the four cardinal directions as well as upward and downward. This is certainly more in line with the myths and cosmology I tend to work with. But I’m also more a Freyjasman than a Thorsman. While the hammer rite makes sense for a rite to Thor or one which is honoring the Aesir and Vanir in general, I’m not convinced it’s quite right for a magical rite specifically focused on working with Freyja. (I’ll talk more about her and how she influences how I view my rites in a bit.)

Casting a circle is something that I often do, but I’m not entirely sold on that, either. It depends on how I look at casting a circle. Indeed, I’ve heard some Wiccans and other Pagans refer to the whole process of casting a circle, calling the Quarters, and so on as “creating sacred space,” which is a phrase I’m not entirely comfortable with. After all, I believe that everything is already sacred, so I’d be essentially “creating” something that already exists. And while this may seem like its mostly about semantics, I think the words we choose and the meanings they convey are important.

I will admit that I’m also at least a little influenced by my time with Ar nDraíocht Fein,4 whose ritual structure does not include circle casting at all. The argument made against it — at least as I recall it — was that casting a circle that encloses the participants of a public rite honoring the gods is more trouble than it’s worth. They argue that it’s better to allow attendees to come and go as needed rather than forcing them to have to find someone to cut them a door (which is generally discouraged as much as possible in magical rites anyway).5

And yet, I’m not really looking to lead public rituals or just honor the gods. I’m looking to work magic and develop a more intense relationship with my deities — and one deity in particular. So ADF’s reasons don’t necessarily apply to my practice. Also, there an aspect of circle casting I’ve found some Wiccans express that I find appealing — the idea of creating magical space, a “place that is not a place in a time that is not a time.” Or another way to put it would be “creating a liminal space for ritual.” This to me is different from creating sacred space and has a value. Setting aside a space to work magic in a given moment makes sense to me.

This also feels right for working with Freyja, though I’m not sure she likes liminal spaces, so much as wild spaces. My perception of Freyja6 is that much of her worship and magic is about stepping beyond the domain of humans and the bounds of civilization. In many ways, I imagine it as making forays from Midgard out into the wild and primal places of Utgard. So I’ve thought about exploring a way to create ritual space that is a sort of “pocket of Utgard.” Or perhaps a sort of outpost in Utgard. I haven’t made much progress with the idea, but it’s definitely one I keep toying with.

Another thing — which I mentioned in a footnote — that seems common among many Wiccans that doesn’t do much for me is the influence from and tendency to draw on the Kabbalah and other aspects of ceremonial magic and Christian occultists in general. This was before I even learned about cultural appropriation and considered the implications of how Christian occultists have historically pilfered a lot of their ideas from Jewish mysticism. So the fact that I tend to prefer stuff that comes from Norse mythology instead just feels like the best choice for me.

One particular thing that Wiccans — especially non-iniatory Wiccans — seem to pull from Christian occultists and mystics is the idea that all the deities are names for or facets of a single divine couple. This is not something that works in my theology and I see important differences between the various deities.7

So is there anything I have in common with Wicca. Well, yes. Or at least there are similarities. I remember that the Alexandrian priestess whose coven I briefly considered seeking initiation into once told me that there’s a lot of overlap between seidh or seidr (both pronounced “sayth” with a soft “th” sound like in “these”) and initiatory Wicca. But I think a lot of those similarities are in the way we see the world and think about magic and rather than details in practice.

Also, I have read books by Wiccans and had many conversations with many Wiccans. Some of those experiences have at least shaped my thinking. And there are just some parts of Wiccan lore that resonate with me. Two such examples are the myth of the goddess as described by Gerald Gardner and the Wiccan virtues found in the Charge of the Goddess.8

I think those are some of the more major differences between Wicca and my witchcraft practice. I doubt it’s an exhaustive list and I’m sure there are more similarities that I’m forgetting as well. But hopefully my readers will find this analysis helpful in understanding my particular quirks as a witch a bit better.

Footnotes

  1. I think it’s also important to note that I’ve actually changed how I use the word “Wicca” on this blog since 2004 when I wrote this post defining the term for the blog. Back then, I was spending a great deal of time on a Yahoo Group dedicated to discussing British Traditional Wicca (which includes the Gardnerian, Alexandrian, and closely related traditions) and I wanted to reflect the definition used in that group. This was also motivated by the fact that I was deeply interested in BTW at the time and was considering seeking initiation into one of those traditions. However, that group has since gone away with the rest of Yahoo Groups and I’m no longer looking to become an initiate. So it’s time to broaden my definition for this blog. However, I do still try to make a distinction between initiatory and non-initiatory Wicca, as from my perspective at least, there are some remarkable differences. ↩︎
  2. When a group of friends and I formed a coven over a decade ago, I was pleased that we did not include calling the Quarters as part of our ritual. Sadly, the rest of the group decided to revisit that decision about a year after we formed the coven and I was outvoted. So we ended up calling the Quarters after that. i was bummed, but chose not to let it get in the way of me enjoying working magic and honoring the gods with my friends. Sometimes, being a witch is about being practical, including about which hills we choose to die on. ↩︎
  3. Speaking of elemental (and other) correspondences, I frequently find myself suppressing an urge to roll my eyes when someone asks me what element or sphere of the Kabbalah I’d associate a given rune with. In my opinion, the runes are their own system and trying to mash them into one of those systems does them a disservice. (YMMV) ↩︎
  4. What can I say? I explored a lot of different options before I came to my current witchcraft practice and I probably took a little bit from all of them. I said I’m “mostly Norse,” not completely free from syncretism. ↩︎
  5. I will also note that such public rites often welcome inexperienced people who might not even be aware that they should have someone cut a doorway if a magic circle was cast. So that’s another reason why casting circles in such a scenario may be best avoided. ↩︎
  6. I’ll note that I’m clearly getting into “unverified personal gnosis” territory here. ↩︎
  7. I will note that I believe in what my old coven refer to as “the one eternal reality in whom we live and move and have our being.” (Imagine my surprise when I learned years later that the co-founder of the coven who wrote our ritual took that description straight out of the Bible.) In a sense, I see the One as the ultimate Divine. But for me, when you reach the level of the One, you’re talking about a Divinity that no longer has personality. Nor does it relate directly to humans or anyone else. In fact, we too are a part of the One, same as the deities I honor. ↩︎
  8. I just want to give a shout-out to Yvonne Aburrow who — as near as either of us can tell — coined the term “Wiccan virtues” for the eight virtues mentioned in the Charge and is the only other person I have met who has ever brought much attention to them. ↩︎
Meta-Blogging

Bonus post: A quick check-in and a call for Blogroll suggestions

Leave a comment

Happy Saturday (or whenever you’re reading this), dear readers! I thought I’d drop a quick bonus post to let everyone know how things are going here. The short version is that it’s going extremely well. As of writing this update, I have posts drafted and scheduled through Friday, June 24. I’m hoping to get a post for Memorial Day and the following Friday done over the next week. My hope is to take a brief writing break between Memorial Day weekend and the following weekend without interrupting the regular flow of posts here.

I’m also looking at making a few other changes around here. My main focus at this moment is updating my blogroll, as most of the blogs currently listed have gone inactive or are even no longer online1. So if you have or know of a blog that deals with social justice, witchcraft, Paganism, and/or spirituality in general,2 please drop me a link in the comments or send it to me via my contact form.

Of course, I’m also thinking about expanding my blogroll into a more general resources page. So if you have or know of a similarly themed YouTube channel, TikTok account, Discord server, book, or any other resource, I’d be happy to hear about those too.

As always, thanks for reading! And thanks for your help in improving my blog.

Footnotes

  1. Seriously, what happened to Libby Anne’s blog, Love, Joy, Feminism? I can pull up certain posts from her blog that I have direct links to. But if I just try going to the main page of her blog, Patheos redirects me somewhere else? ↩︎
  2. Note that I’m welcoming links to sources about/from non-Pagan religious traditions, especially minority religions like Judaism, Buddhism, and Hinduism. About the only links I will reject out of hand are ones that express an authoritarian view and/or make exclusive claims to the truth. i will also note that I will hold links to Christian blogs — even progressive ones — to a higher level of scrutiny. To be honest, I think most of us already have plenty of access to blogs and other resources that express Christian viewpoints, especially those that come from white and cishet Christians. So I will likely consider including a Black or trans Christian’s blog sooner than yet another male pastor’s blog without apology. ↩︎
Books, Paganism, Religion

Desiring sacred community: Exploring a journal prompt from chapter 6 of “Changing Paths”

3 Comments

Hello and happy Friday, dear readers! In today’s post, I want to explore a journal prompt Yvonne Aburrow offers at the end of chapter six of their book, Changing Paths. This chapter is titled “The Conversion Process.” Here’s the prompt:

What do you experience as sacred? What do you regard as important, special, emotionally significant?

I’ve given a lot of thought over the past few years on what I think it means to call sacred. Most recently, I did a video on the subject:

I then did a couple of follow-up videos: one on the sacred self and the other one about acknowledging the sacred in others. I think that these three videos together make it clear that I think everything and everyone is sacred. I also think they give a glimpse into what it means to me to treat oneself, others, and even the world in light of that understanding.

As such, I’d like to focus on where this is currently leading me personally at this time. My belief that both I and the other are sacred has me focusing more on building and nurturing relationships between the sacred self, sacred others, and the sacred world. I find myself looking more at the importance of community.1

Wen I first came to Paganism and witchcraft, I was greatly focused on myself. I was relieved to find a spiritual tradition and magical practice that focused on empowering myself and celebrating my own worth. At the time, this was necessary, given the ways my former religious upbringing had stripped me of any sense of self-worth and value.

But as I’ve matured over the past couple decades, I’ve begun shifting my focus toward the people and the world around me. As someone who is confident in my own value and worth,2 I started once more looking for ways to connect with others and even help others. I wanted to share my experiences and what wisdom I have gained from them with others. In fact, this is one of my primary motivators in maintaining this blog, as well as some of my other projects.

Right now, a lot of this effort is focused online, though I’m starting to crave local community as well. I haven’t figured out what that looks like for me these days. I’m not sure if I would be best served by re-joining the local Pagan and Witches meetup (assuming they are back to having in-person meetings in addition to the online ones), getting involved with the local metaphysical shop, or starting my own coven or kindred. That latter one has a certain appeal to me, but I have my reservations, including whether there are others in the area that would want to work magic and/or honor the gods in the way that i do.3 Plus I’m not sure I have a well-enough defined ritual or focus to really build a communal practice. That may be something I work on developing, though.

So I suppose even after all these years, my path is still evolving and progressing. I’m not sure where my desire to have, build, and nurture community will lead me. But that’s what’s on my mind right now. Mainly because that connection with sacred others is what I value and desire most right now.

Footnotes

  1. One of the things that I love about this chapter and the book in general is how central Aburrow has made the concept of community to their discussion of religion and finding a religious home. ↩︎
  2. Though I do try to maintain a modicum of humility. After all, becoming an ego-maniacal boor would be an undesirable over-correction. ↩︎
  3. I’m in a weird niche where I tend to be too Norse-focused for most Wiccans and other witches, yet too “loosey-goosey” with ritual style for most Heathens’ comfort. ↩︎
Magic/Magick, Witchcraft

Being a Curmudgeonly Witch: Asking for “First Spells”

Leave a comment

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? ↩︎
Books, Introspection, Religion

My religious deal-breakers: Exploring a journal prompt from chapter 5 of “Changing Paths.”

Leave a comment

Hello readers and happy Friday! Time to tackle another journal prompt from Changing Paths by Yvonne Aburrow. This week, we’re looking at chapter 5, which is titled “At the Crossroads.” Unlike the previous two chapters, I easily fell in love with the thought of blogging about one of the journal prompts at the end of this chapter. And boy, is it a doozy!

Make a list of features that any religion or philosophical system that you would consider getting involved in should not have. Your list could include beliefs, values, rituals, metaphors, and practices.

Before I start pulling out my “laundry list” and discussing it, I should note that this is today’s list of my deal-breakers. I’m not sure everything would have been on my list back in 1998 when I was making my break from Christianity. After all, my only goal in 1996 was to make peace with the fact that I was gay. I didn’t plan on changing any other aspect of my faith at that time. But that’s the thing about such lists. They change and grow as we do. We need to allow them to change. Maybe we’ll add new items to the list. Maybe we’ll take some items back off it, or at least clarify what exactly it is we’re opposed to. But let’s get on with my current deal-breakers.

Homophobia and Transphobia

Homophobia would have definitely been on my list of deal-breakers back in 1998. In fact, it was the original deal-breaker that kicked off my deconstruction process. Being a gay man who had realized that denying my sexuality and denying myself fulfilling sexual experiences and relationships was unhealthy for me, I realized that I needed a religion that accepted, embraced, and celebrated my sexuality instead.

Back then however, I did not know much about tans issues. In fact, I’m not sure I had even heard of being trans. If I had, I probably thought it was some sort of “extreme gayness” rather than something different (though often related) to sexual orientation.1

But as I got to know trans people, I saw how their own struggles were often similar to my own. Furthermore, my own trials, tribulations, and harms at the hands of my religious upbringing caused me to experience empathy and compassion for trans people. As such, I want a religion that accepts, embraces, and celebrates them as much as it does me me. In fact, this leads to my next deal-breaker.

Bigotry, Exclusion, and the Establishment of Second Class Members

That same compassion for myself and trans people continued to expand outward, causing me to oppose all bigotries and the various ways a religion might exclude certain groups of people or even treat them as second class members if they were accepted into the religion at all. So I began to see ableism, racism, and sexism as deal-breakers as well.

I will note that I don’t understand these issues and how they express themselves as well as I’m familiar with homophobia, its manifestations, and its effects. I’m still learning about transphobia too, for that matter. So this is an ongoing process for me and one that I doubt I will ever truly complete.

Self-Denigration

This was another deal-breaker that I had back in 1998 and likely the second one I added. My evangelical upbringing had stripped me of any sense of self-worth with its constant messaging that I was a sinner in desperate need of grace, which I had been literally taught was “mercy that I did not deserve.” It was this messaging and the toll it took on my self-esteem that eventually made me realize that I needed a clean break from Christianity altogether. 2

I need (and fortunately found) a religion that embraced me as the wonderful person I am, full of inherent value and worth. Sure, I’m not perfect and needed to improve in many ways. But I am valuable and am worth improving due to that value. My improvement as a person has become a gift I give myself rather than something I have to do to try to appease some deity (and then grovel before that deity when I fail to meet his standard.)

Hell (or Any Other Eternal Punishment)

This is another deal-breaker that was quickly added if it was not on my list in 1998. As I made friends outside of Christian circles after coming out as gay and relying on them for emotional support, I struggled with my belief that these same people were going to be condemned to suffer for eternity simply for believing the “wrong” things. It seemed unfair and cruel, especially considering how much they were helping me keep myself together at the time.

Later, I began to think about the whole idea of hell and realized that in general, the idea of tormenting anyone (or allowing any to be tormented) forever was pure cruelty. I could not believe any deity worth respecting — let alone worshiping — would do such a thing.

This line of thinking eventually led me to thoughts that caused me to add the next two deal-breakers.

A Focus on Retributive or Punitive Justice

As I got thinking about the cruelty of hell, I also began to question what justice was altogether. I began to realize that retributive justice and punitive justice made no sense to me.3 It does nothing to restore those harmed by injustice or improve their circumstances. And even the argument of reform does not make sense if the punishment only comes at the end of the wrongdoer’s life. There’s no time for them do anything positive with their newly reformed ways.

A Focus on the Afterlife

I came to realize that there had to be more to this life than treating it as a test for getting into the preferred afterlife or gaining more converts to join you there. I began to sense that this life was what is important and what we did here matter for what the results here mattered. As such, I realized I needed (and thankfully found) a religion that not only offered insights into how to live a good and happy life here, but sought to celebrate that life for itself.

Divine Command Theory

Divine Command Theory is the moral philosophy that morality is noting more than the divine dictates of God or a group of deities. I am not a fan of this model, because it makes the entire concept of morality arbitrary. I also find it strange — and a bit of circular reasoning — that some religious people will tell you that God declares what is good and also that God is good. If God gets to declare that he is good like that, it is a meaningless statement.

I prefer to find a standard of morality that exists outside of the arbitrary dictates of an authoritarian figure. And that brings me to my next deal-breaker.

Authoritarianism

As someone who values critical thinking and independence, I am not a fan of authoritarianism. I certainly don’t want it in my religion. i want a religion where i can think for myself, grapple with the beliefs and values presented to me. I want the freedom to question and argue with the religious leaders — and even the deities themselves. And it’s even better if they celebrate me for doing so.

I like to think of my relationships with my deities as being centered on dialogue and cooperation, not subservience and unquestioning obedience.

Exclusive Claims to Truth and Totalizing Systems

Aburrow introduces the concept of totalizing systems later in the book (Chapter 7) and defines4 it as “an exclusive or sectarian system that also subsumes all other paradigms rather than accepting that other paradigns exist alongside it.” I have seen too much value in other religions — including religions that I probably would never follow personally — to just discount them as unimportant, let alone invalid. I much prefer approach that states “this is what we do/believe and others are free to believe/do as they please.” Which brings me to my next deal-breaker.

Proselytization

I have no desire to have people convince me to join their religion, nor do I wish to convince others to join mine. I strongly believe that the search for meaning and a connection with the numinous is a deeply personal one driven by an individual’s needs and context. Trying to force people to fit their personal journey into some predefined box strikes me as a sort of violence.

This is not to say I won’t share information about my religion with others. And if someone expresses a desire to follow my religion, i will gladly help them along in that process. But that is only if they come to me seeking such aid. I do not wish to go out actively seeking converts, let alone trying to convince people they need to convert.

Monotheism

I”m not sure this is a deal-breaker so much as just something I no longer believe. I don’t think I could believe it at this point. I think a polytheistic or animistic view of the numinous makes far more sense.

A “Three-O Compliant” Deity

This term is my own invention and a bit of a nod to my career as a software engineer, which is full of such jingoistic buzzwords. What I mean by it is the qualities that some monotheists attribute to their god: omnipotence, omniscience, and omnipresence.5 I actively reject the notion that any deity possesses the first two qualities and I have my doubts about the third.

Again, I’m not sure this is a true deal-breaker as it is something I just cannot believe anymore. I think the deities have their limits.6 I also believe that the deities are still growing and learning, so they can’t possibly be omniscient.

Closing Thoughts

That’s quite the list. I’m not sure it’s complete (after all, I didn’t cover sexual ethics in general), but I think it’s a great first attempt. As I noted, I reserve the right to update this list (possibly in a future blog post) in the future.

As I wrote this post, I also thought it might be interesting to explore what I want in my religion now that I’ve indicated a bunch of things I don’t want. I may have to do a future blog post on that subject.

In the meantime, I’d love to hear from my readers. Do you agree any of my deal-breakers? Do you disagree with them? Do you have other deal-breakers? Feel free to share them and your reasoning in the comments below.

Footnotes

  1. I will note that this has often been the position that anti-gay Christians — especially the conversion therapy proponents — have taken, either explicitly or implicitly. Often, their ideas about homosexuality and being trans is deeply rooted in strict gender roles and gender stereotypes. So everything that breaks from patriarchal cisheteronomativity tends to get homogonized into the same bucket. ↩︎
  2. I want to note that this statement is describing what was the best choice for me at the time. This is not a prescriptive declaration about what others should do. I fully acknowledge that others have managed to find a version of Christianity that affirms their inherent worth and value. That just isn’t my story. ↩︎
  3. This applies to more than just my theology, by the way. I’m deeply troubled by the way our criminal justice system seems to focus on punishing criminals. Sometimes, proponents of the current system will argue that they’re actually trying to reform criminals. However, research has shown that punishments are not a good method of reform. So that argument falls flat in my opinion. ↩︎
  4. I suspect this is actually a definition they got from another source, but I don’t recall what that source was or whether they cited it. ↩︎
  5. Recently, I’ve noticed some people — mostly atheists criticizing the Christian god — also mentioning omnibenevolence. It’s a term we never used when I was an evangelical Christian, but we certainly believed God was omnibenevolent. We just phrased it as “God is love.” So I have considered re-branding my term as “Four-O Compliance.” Also, for anyone wondering I have my doubts about whether any deity is truly omnibenevolent, either. I tend to think that the nature of the Divine is more complex than that. ↩︎
  6. This is where I note my controversial opinion that I don’t think any theist actually believes that their god is omnipotent. For example, start asking Christians about the problem of evil or how they justify eternal conscious torment and they’ll start saying things like their “all-powerful” god can’t be in the presence of sin. That sounds like a limitation on their god to me. ↩︎
Religion, Spiritual Development, Witchcraft

Covens as a model for small groups?

2 Comments

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. ↩︎
Books, Gender and Sexuality, Religion

A weird boy, but definitely a boy: Freestyling it again for chapter 4 of “Changing Paths”

Leave a comment

This Friday, I’ll be blogging some of my thoughts from reading Chapte 4, “Religion and Gender” of Yvonne Aburrow’s1 book, Changing Paths. Once again, I’m totally ad-libbing this post, as none of Yvonne’s wonderful prompts and exercises for this chapter jumped out at me or seemed suited to my blogging purposes.2

It’s taken me a bit to figure out what I was going to say about this chapter. To be honest, my gender was not a huge issue during my Christian upbringing. Certain, my sexual orientation was a huge issue, but in terms of gender, I was a cis man, which evangelical and other authoritarian forms of Christianity tend to practically cater to. Certainly, there are gender expectations within such forms of Christianity that I could not meet as a gay man — namely the idea of becoming a faithful husband and father of the next generation of culture warriors.3 But as a cis male, I was not seen as someone destined to be in a subservient role or someone trying to go against God’s design (again, other than the whole being gay thing).

My church also did not get too explicit about the gender essentialism either, nor did they push strict gender roles. While my church certainly wasn’t a bastion of full egalitarianism. no one there would have dreamed of releasing an official church statement reaffirming that wives were to submit to their husbands, to give just one example.4

In some ways, ideas about gender is something I still had to deconstruct when I converted to witchcraft and Paganism. I found a lot of freedom in being able to embrace a female deity, though it took me a few months to a year to resolve the idea of Divinity being at least partly female.5

It’s been interesting for me as a man primarily dedicated to and working with Freyja. It seems in some Pagan and witchcraft circles that it’s typically thought that men will dedicate themselves to a god and women will dedicate themselves to a goddess. In Wiccan circles, the High Priestess typically invokes the Goddess or has Her drawn down into her. and her male working partner invokes the God or has HIm drawn down into him.6 So in some ways, I’m a bit of a oddity in at least some Pagan and witch circles.

Another thing that is always in the back of my mind is something that doesn’t have to do with religion directly is a conversation i once had with an online feminist friend. (I think it was the blogger who went by the name Fannie Wolfe, but don’t recall for sure.) She observed that it is often the case that what it means to be a man is defined in opposition to what it means to be a woman (and then presented as being superior to it). I often come back to that thought when I’m trying to figure out what it means for me to say that I’m a man. I have yet to come up with a good definition. though listening to people like D.E. Anderson7 has helped me gain a vague perspective.

I also think this is one of those areas where Paganism as a whole tends to muddy the waters from time to time. After all, there’s a tendency in some Pagan circles to classify everything as “masculine” or “feminine,” and those often fit our wider culture’s gender stereotype. For example, masculine energy is often described s that which is “active” and “aggressive” while feminine energy is seen as that which is “passive” and “receptive.” Those of us who work closely with a goddess like Freyja are left laughing and/or scratching our heads.8 Our own deities don’t fit well into the masculine/feminine divide!

Working with Freyja has also helped me to accept that fuzziness around what it means for me to be a man is just a part of life. In fact, I don’t think that what it means to be a man is that high a priority for me.9 I know that whatever it means for me and no matter how I perceive myself, my deities will accept me and honor who I am.

Footnotes

  1. It occurs to me that while I’ve linked to Yvonne’s Threads profile multiple times, I have yet to mention that they also have a blog or provide a link to it. Consider this footnote my initial effort to correct that. ↩︎
  2. I hope it’s clear that I’m not intending this as a criticism of Yvonne. I think their prompts and exercises are fantastic and can see why other people reading this book will likely find them helpful to being the point of a god-send. But I’m also probably not quite the best exemplar of their target audience for the book, either. I went through the majority of my faith change(s) over two decades ago. (If only Yvonne could go back in time and release this book back then.) ↩︎
  3. I’ll also note that the whole Joshua Generation movement didn’t get started until the early-to-mid 2000s, roughly half a decade after I left Christianity altogether as an adult. So while there was a general consensus that Christian parents should raise faithful Christian children when I was growing up, there wasn’t the explicit message about raising up a generation of Christian soldiers to take over the country, either. ↩︎
  4. I’ll also note that gender roles were not strictly held in my own home. For example, my father frequently did laundry on the weekends. This was because my father was a practical man who (1) realized the laundry still needed to be done on weekends when my mother was working at the hospital and (2) was often just looking things to do to keep busy. I have always admired my father’s practicality and like to think I’ve inherited a bit of that from him. ↩︎
  5. At the time, i said that I considered God to be “genderless” and therefore the idea of applying any gender to the Divine struck me as weird. In time, I’ve come to realize this was a bit of self-delusion on my part. God in my mind had been male because male was the default. Granted, I’ll also note that I tended to link gender with sex and anatomy at the time, which made it that much easier to convince myself that God was “genderless,” because what does God need with genitals? Needless to say, my understanding of gender has evolved since then and continues to expand, particularly as I learn more about/from my trans friends. ↩︎
  6. I want to stress that I’m talking about what I understand to be common or typical. There are exceptions. In fact, a cursory search of Yvonne’s blog (because I just knew they must’ve said something about this topic at least once) found a blog post talking about how roles in ritual are and can be assigned. In the comments section, they even come out in support of drawing down deities across genders. I’d invite Yvonne (or anyone else who, unlike me, is actually Wiccan) to offer further resources in the comments of this post as well as any necessary corrections to my statements on the topic. ↩︎
  7. Mx. Anderson uses their full first name when writing professionally due to the fact that their first two books were published before they came out as non-binary. However, in more social settings, they tend to go by their first and middle initials. As I tend to spend a good bit of time socializing with them online, I tend to go with their initials when speaking to/about them.. ↩︎
  8. I could spend a day coming up with adjectives for Freyja and “passive” would never come up or be met with hysterical laughter if it did. ↩︎
  9. I acknowledge that the ability to say that is a sign of cis privilege. After all, it’s easy to not worry about what it means to be a man when it’s rare for anyone to challenge whether I have any business calling myself a man and every fiber of my being agrees with my self-assessment that I am a man. ↩︎
Paganism, Religion

The uniqueness among religions

2 Comments

During my recent appearance on Di the Yoga Witch’s podcast, we got talking about our views on deities. And I provided a few thoughts on why I tend to favor hard polytheism — or at least treating the deities and individuals rather than the same deity (or divine couple) by different names. Here’s what I had to say:1

For those who may not have the time or ability to watch or listen to the video here’s a somewhat edited2 transcript of what I said:

I think one of the other things — and again, I think this is just my personal opinion, my approach to things. All due respect to anyone who take things differently. I’m not here to get into witch wars about whose theology is right and whose understanding of the deities is right. This is just mine. But from my perspective too, the uniqueness is important. One of the problems I see with “they’re all the same” is that there gets to be this homogenization and you lose some of that uniqueness and you lose some of those subtle stories. I’m sorry, the myth of the goddess as recorded by Gerald Gardner and the myth of the Descent of Inanna? Yes, there are some very broad brush similarities, but they also have their own individual story to tell. It’s in those details and those subtle differences…..

That’s the other thing. I’m very strong about myths and understanding meanings and I think that myths can have multiple meanings. For example, I have a couple different readings of the Binding of Fenrir. I have the one version that I tell that focus on Tyr sacrificing his hand. He puts his hand in the wolf’s mouth and makes a promise he knows he’s going to break. And he’s going to lose his hand. But because that’s what’s needed to save the world, he makes that sacrifice. That’s a story expressing that sometimes, seeking justice and doing the right thing does involve sacrifice.

On the flip side, I have a different telling of that same myth where I am a staunch believer that the Aesir, the Norse gods, did that poor doggie wrong. What they did to him was not right. I can hold both of those understandings of that myth in my mind at the same time.

That’s the kind of thing that exploring those meanings of the myths kind of get lost sometimes when you say “they’re all the same.” And I have the same issue with comparative mythology. Not that I think comparative mythology is totally worthless. But at some point you have to appreciate the uniqueness of each story and each personality and each portrayal.

I think this uniqueness applies to myths and deities, but religions in general. I think it’s important to understand that there are differences — both subtle and blatant — between many religions. They each have their own understanding of the world and the Divine (and there are even religions that have no concept of the Divine) is very different. Their goals are often quite different. And sometimes, even things that two religions appear to have in common are viewed quite differently.

I talked about this recently on Threads, where I addressed a number of misconceptions that some people seem to have about my religion by assuming it’s like the Christianity, the religion they’re most familiar with:

Hi. I am a religious person.

❌ I do not believe there’s only one god.

❌ I do not believe my deities are omnipotent or omniscient.

❌ I do not believe in original sin.

❌ I do not believe in heaven or hell.

❌ I do not believe that our eternal destination — assuming we even have one — is determined by where we have the correct beliefs or worship the “right d[eity.]

❌ I do not obey my deities without question.

❌ I do not believe everyone should honor my gods or even believe that they exist.

It’s been received well by adherents of other non-Christians religions (and even a few Christians who don’t believe in all of those points, either). I think it’s important that we appreciate our religion’s particular uniqueness and the uniqueness of other religions.

That’s an important thing to remember. Saying my religion is unique doesn’t mean that my religion is superior to other religions. I think that’s something that gets forgotten given the dominance of one or two religions who do push the idea that their religion is superior to the rest, and even try to manage this by pointing out how their religion “stands out” from the other religions.

To me, uniqueness is about identity, both individually and communally. By being part of my religion, I am a part of a community, and we have our own unique way of viewing ourselves, our world, and our values. And while other religions and communities may have very similar values, they express them in their own unique ways.

And as I often say, I’m a part of my religion because its unique way of seeing and expressing things speaks to and nourishes my soul in a way that other religions unique way of doing the same doesn’t. And I’m sure the people of those religions could say the same thing. And there’s something to be said about various religious communities coming together to celebrate both their common ground and their uniqueness. But to celebrate the latter, we first have to quit trying to erase the differences in an attempt at religious homogenization.

Footnote(s)

  1. Bear in mind that this is a small clip from a rambling conversation that lasted for over an hour. If you haven’t already done so, I’d strongly encourage you to check out the full episode over on Di’s YouTube channel. I provided a link to the full video earlier in this post. ↩︎
  2. I tried to limit my editing to removing filler words like “you know” and “um” as well. I also did not include Di’s responses, which are worth listening to when you have a chance. But they are not essential to this post. ↩︎
Books, Gender and Sexuality, Paganism, Religion, Sexuality

Being gaily religious and religiously gay: Blogging freestyle for chapter 3 of “Changing Paths.”

2 Comments

[Content Note: Frank sexual talk, including discussion of masturbation.]

This week, I want to blog about chapter three of Changing Paths by Yvonne Aburrow. This chapter is titled “Religion and Sexuailty.”

I’ve struggled a bit with figuring out how I want to handle this chapter. It’s the first chapter where none of the blog prompts really resonated with me in a way that made me think of a way to blog about them.1 So I’ve decided to “free-style” it and just share whatever thoughts on the topic came up while I was reading this chapter.

Of course, I’ve also struggled a bit with remembering what my thoughts and feelings were when reading this chapter. As of the time I’m writing this post, I’m ready to start chapter 11 in the book and will very likely have finished the entire book by the time it gets published. I guess that’s the one down side to establishing a posting schedule. But I shall do my best.

My relationship with my sexuality when I was an evangelical Christian was a complete mess, and not solely because I was gay. For those who may not be familiar with evangelical culture, purity culture is often a huge part of that, and my upbringing was no exception.

I will note that my experience with purity culture was not nearly as intense as some of my friends in the various deconstructing and former evangelical communities I’m involved with. While I got a few messages about how having sex before marriage makes you like a chewed up piece of gum or a tissue someone has already blown their nose into, I know many people who had those messages driven home to them far more frequently and emphatically than I ever did.

In some ways, I think I had it easier as a guy than many of my female friends did. There often seems to be a certain amount of “boys will be boys” mentality even among evangelicals when it comes to sex. This is not to say that boys get a free pass in purity culture, mind you. And there’s always that messaging that depicts men and boys as barely controlled monsters full of hormones and lust, so a lot of guys (and I wasn’t totally exempt from this myself) tend to have negative self-perceptions and internalize a lot of guilt and shame over perfectly normal urges.

That’s where it gets complicated for me. As a gay boy who is essentially a Kinsey 6. “Lusting”2 after girls and women was never really a problem. In fact, I remember trying to imagine kissing a female classmate when I was in high school and finding the idea weird and a little disturbing.

But when I eventually realized that I was attracted to male classmates, that became troubling. After all, the only thing worse (or so I thought) than lusting after a girl was lusting after a boy! I was devastated and spent years in denial, trying to convince myself that it was just a phase, then a few years trying to pray my way to deliverance from my “same sex attractions”3

As an aside, I was online acquaintances with Peterson Toscano and took part int he Beyond Ex-Gay website/movement, both of which got a mention in this chapter. That brought back pleasant memories.

In addition, like most teenage boys (and I suspect most teenagers in general), I greatly enjoyed pleasuring myself. I mean, why wouldn’t I? It feels good and offers some great health benefits. Granted, I didn’t know about the health benefits at the time. But it’s often difficult for a young person whose body is teaming with hormones to resist the urge. I did not resist them. Oh, I’d try, but I’d eventually give in and feel a mountain guilt over it.

In general, I’d say that purity culture tends to destroy young people’s connections to their bodies in addition to their sexuality in general. You’re taught to see your body as this great source of temptation and sinfulness, and that really messes you up. I know it certainly messed me up.

I think that’s one of the things that drew me to Freyja when I turned to Paganism. She is an unapologetically sexual goddess and owns her sexuality as something to be proud of. Furthermore, she embraces all expressions of sexuality, regardless of who you are attracted to or involved with.4 That’s something I needed, so I embraced her and learned to love myself, my body, and my sexuality.

It’s something I”m still working on in some ways, mind you. I do have certain body insecurities. But I know longer see my body or sexuality as a moral failing. And that’s a definite boon.

Footnotes

  1. I will note, however, that I absolutely loved the meditation Yvonne included at the end of this chapter. I have done similar exercises in my own witchcraft practice before, including an exercise that my mentor and would-be initiator had me do when I was exploring the possibility of becoming an initiate of the Minoan Brotherhood, which Yvonne mentioned in this chapter. ↩︎
  2. I will note that the way that purity culture turns all sexual desire — and especially sexual desire that’s not “purified” by romance and/or marriage — into something sinful and dirty totally grinds my gears. To the point that I once wrote something on the topic and titled it “Sacred Lust.” ↩︎
  3. I have complicated feelings about that phrase, given the way it’s used in ex-gay ministries and among conversion therapists. I am so thankful I can abandon it these days and just say I’m gay. But such organizations have long pushed the idea that even identifying as gay rather than just saying you “struggle with same-sex attractions” is bad. I’ve addressed that before. ↩︎
  4. If my readers will allow me to throw a but of unconfirmed personal gnosis out there, the only way I’ve seen to piss off Freyja when it comes to love and sexuality is if you weaponize them to abuse or otherwise intetionally harm another person. You do that, you better watch out. ↩︎
Online Life, Paganism, Podcast, Religion, Sexuality, Witchcraft

Another Podcast Appearance: Di the Yoga Witch

Leave a comment

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. ↩︎

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