On Witches

On the way home from the Emergency Room, he sincerely thanked me for making him go and for driving him. I said, “it was nothing, but making that home made mac-and-cheese and sides took a bit of work.” To which he smiled and said, “thank you; I can't wait to eat it.”

Can I tell you something about witches? They are beautiful and unafraid of their complexity.

Stones from a river, resin from a tree, herbs from a garden or forest – such things are honored as medicine and magic for one with a witchy countenance. She holds the secrets of nature and is willing to share, help, and heal. Growth and decay, give and take, seen and unseen; her currency is life as an equal exchange.

Drink her tea to learn how your ancestors are rivers, mountains and elk. Inhale her incense to learn deeper truths about bones, dirt and trees.

Her divine compass is inlaid upon celestial bodies and she cherishes and calibrates the balance only the stars and moonlight can project.

Why are you afraid of her?

Patriarchy and fear changed the witch narrative in the same way it did to Mary Magdalene “the repentant whore.” On the lighter side of this coin, people fear what they don't understand. On the darker side, men in particular are afraid of the power they lose when the witch knows things they don't know or when she elicit desires that dis-regulate their world.

She doesn't eat children but she may consume you if you wish it.

She doesn't interfere with free will or the mind of others, but she will show you how to look beyond what you think you know.

I know a man who married a witch.

He may not fear her but he certainly does not know the depths of her gifts.

He may love her more than life but he does not know how to open to her Cosmos.