I don't look like a Witch.
Unless, without me realising it, the stereotypical view of
Witches has switched to a 30-something year old man wearing jeans, a
t-shirt, and ridiculously heavy mountain climbing boots.
And yet still, whenever I tell anyone that I'm a Witch, I get the same
questions.
‘Where's your cloak, then?'
(reply, ‘At home’)
‘Where's your cauldron?'
(reply, ‘At home’)
Some of them, if they're particularly well-informed, might
even (gasp) ask if I have a Book of Shadows, then proceed to get
very excited when I answer yes, and then raise an eyebrow when I say that I
also keep a Grimoire.
They get less excited when I have to explain that although I
have three sisters (really!), none of them are called Pru, Piper, Phoebe
or Paige, and that my Book of Shadows doesn't tell me how to kill
demons. I’ve never had a
broom closet; and my besom is in its rightful place behind the front
door. I don’t try to explain the difference a besom and a broom.
However, I don't go leaping in with the oh-so-melodramatic
phrase ‘I'm a Witch', unless I’m asked, and just when you think
people are getting the idea of it, they ruin it all again by asking if
I’m Wiccan.
As the looks become more and more blank and people start
backing away, I'm forced to either tell them that I practice Witchcraft
or leave everyone with the strong impression that I'm a lunatic.
Which in some ways I am, but not when it comes to my Craft
upbringing, and you certainly don't tell people these things!
Of course, the first mention of the word ‘Witchcraft' and they're very
interested.
It doesn't matter how much I try and explain that Witchcraft is a lot more than the opening scenes from Macbeth and every episode of Charmed, they're gone. I've lost them.
Some people will stare at me, terrified, and never speak to me again.
More often than not, they're Christians. I have nothing against
Christians. What I don't like are Christians who think that because
they're Christians they're morally superior to everyone else, and that
the Bible must always be right, even if you don't believe in their
faith. The occasional reminder of their own Christian heritage often
silences them.
Some people will look round very sneakily, wave their arms in a kind of
Joan Collins-style manic way and whisper melodramatically, ‘I'm one,
too.'
When I ask what tradition they follow, they stare at me blankly and say something along the lines of ‘Huh?' before getting onto the really good spells and how they have an uncle locked up in the cupboard as a small amphibian. These are the people I nod and smile politely at, and then back away from.
No matter how many times I try and explain my Craft to
people, everyone expects me to wear a crushed velvet cloak (or else be naked(!)),
a black pointy hat, stir
a cauldron while laughing manically and twitching my fingers/nose/eyes at
anyone who annoys me. Personally
I’m more likely to smile politely and/or hit them than wiggle any of
my body parts at them.
I'm not saying at all that all people are like this. The majority of my
friends are very open to the idea of my being a Witch – and the fun
thing is, most of them who were very worried about it at first have
since come to accept it wholeheartedly.
Despite their preconceived notions, they had the strength
and the open-mindedness to realise what and who I am. I am a Witch.
I have lived, and am living, as a Witch.
I will die a Witch.
For those just starting with witchcraft, I offer this advice; by all means read books and surf the web, but don't become bogged-down with the mountains of conflicting lists and charts. Your craft, like mine, should have a firm basis, but make it personal to you.
‘Do you have a black pointy hat, then?'
(sigh) ’No; although I am working on genetically engineering a whole
squadron of flying monkeys.’
©Copyright Nathan Ludd 2008 onwards