priestess path

Remembering Ourselves Back Home

Lately I have been living-breathing-sleeping-focusing constantly on Magic and with that shift I have started to question my relationship to the word Witch.

⠀⠀ It was a dirty thing that I carried around, kept hidden in hall closets - in boxes high enough to never really be noticed. Tucked into journals, written in Runic so my brother couldn’t read. It was a word I whispered to myself, quietly beneath my breath, as the wind swept my hair back from my face.


⠀⠀ Candles lit and huddled over. “Light as a feather, stiff as a board” played amongst friends, 12:00 midnight, the evening before Sunday church. Manifesting black cats as companions through out my life, because of course. Books checked out repeatedly from the local library, side eyed glances from the person behind the counter free of charge, as long as I paid my late fees.

⠀⠀ It’s a sexy word right now, hovering on the lips of many people. And I’m not unhappy about it. To me, this is an invitation for those of us who are doing the Work, dancing with our Shadow, to show those who are only curious about the Craft how intoxicating life can be. How beautiful things have always been, and how much we have forgotten.

⠀⠀ Another calling card went out from the Universe a few years ago. A ripple of waking up has been shifting its way, like a deep sigh, through our culture. And many people are hearing it, answering it. I know I remembered to slow down for it this time around.

⠀⠀ Tarot cards at Urban Outfitters, Sabrina the Teenage Witch and Charmed back on the television. We’ve been here before, and recently, but not quite like this. Those who came before us, Crones that have earned their right to sit and smirk, watch as we battle over what is right and fair and they laugh.


⠀⠀ And a great deal of us who are climbing out of the mud have been here before. As dirty faced children collecting river rocks and feathers, hiding sticks in our bedroom closets. Watching the Moon as she slid across the sky beside us out the windows of moving cars. Hearing the sounds of squirrels and lizards and watching carefully as they went about their business. We are all remembering. It’s not about our shiny new toys and the endless Instagram stream of beautiful Witches instigating intense fears of inadequacy.

⠀⠀ This is not new. This is not some sporadic and fashionable thing to call ones self - for many of us. And for those who are simply in awe of the design, let them play. Maybe their hands will get sticky with the blood of it, maybe their feet will get dirty too, and they will stay a little longer around the fire with us. We have made room, and the fire is warm enough for all of us. There is bread and wine and laughter to come, but first we must focus our intentions. Clear out the muck, sweep off the hearth. Besoms in hands, bundled cedar in hand.

⠀⠀ Don’t forget that this is within and around, above and below, You. That magic can be connected to at all times and in all places. And from all 7 directions, the word Witch is making its way up from our guts and through our throats and howling out through our hungry mouths. And I am ready to carry it for those who wish to carry it alongside me.

[This post was extended and modified from it’s original form. Original post can be found here.]