Seeking and Finding

Meeting new people can be an awkward thing in any circumstance, but even more so when you're essentially interviewing (or being interviewed by) someone for potential entry into a training group. Like a job interview, or even a date, things can seemingly go very well, only for one or the other person to decide that the fit just wasn't right. Sometimes they'll tell you, other times you'll never hear from them again; and either way, you're left to wonder why (unless, of course, they tell you--a rarity, though not an impossibility). 

There are many ways to approach bringing people in to the craft. Not everyone runs a training group or Outer Court; I've heard of groups that simply meet socially with prospects for however long it takes all parties to determine whether the person will be brought in or not. I recall someone once saying (I'm paraphrasing here) that their task was to throw out all the reasons why someone wouldn't want to be initiated, while another said they would rebuff an inquiry two or three times just to test the petitioner's determination. I personally like the idea of chance meetings that turn to friendship and a gradual interest in joining the coven, but perhaps that's just my romantic side. We have had chance meetings lead to initiations before, and that's generally worked well, but we've also had people who sought us and were interviewed who came to be long-term coveners, so I can't say for certain which way is best. The roads which lead people to a particular group are just as varied and convoluted as those that sometimes lead them away to another coven, another tradition, another spiritual path entirely. 

So many factors figure in to making a good magickal working relationship possible. Some are social: most people tend to gravitate toward their own demographic cohorts, and away from anything too far outside those parameters. Some are personal: similar personality types, senses of humor, even political leanings and sexual/relational preferences can come into play. And then there are the intangibles, what you might call energy or chemistry or synergy: it's impossible to wholly define them, but they exist, and when they're off, you know it, and you ignore it to your peril. (Ask me how I know.)

I pulled a card before meeting the most recent seeker who approached us; the meeting went well, lasted a good while, seemed productive and positive, and ended with an email saying they didn't think it would be a good fit. While it didn't break my heart, it was disappointing, but I'll take upfront disappointment any day over the alternative of spending months working with someone only to have them depart, particularly if the departure is acrimonious. It's all part of the very glamorous job of coven leader, one among the many things you sign on for all unawares while upholding that promise you made to keep the craft alive. One of the first things we learn is that this particular path isn't for everyone; maybe sometimes my job really is to help people determine what it is they don't want.

The Company of Witches

Cottage in Blaise Castle estate. Photo by Angi Nelson.

In some of the British wiccan traditions descended from Gerald Gardner, you may come across the saying "You cannot be a witch alone;" but this of course is not always the case. When imagining the classic figure of the witch, the image is often that of a very solitary figure: the herb-wife or cunning man of the village, living alone and plying their trade unobtrusively, set apart by talent and temperament if nothing else, separate from village life but an inextricable part of it as well. Certainly the witch of fairytale lore is a lonely soul, hidden away in the dark forest in her slightly sinister but oh-so-very-attractive cottage. The soul brave enough to seek out and enter the witch's cottage may find therein the answer to her wildest dreams...or the loss of her very soul or sanity. In legend, of course, that cottage may symbolize the deepest part of our unconscious, the place where the demons dwell, and the witch residing therein the keeper of the mysteries of ourselves that we have yet to uncover; to seek then to enter that cottage, and to learn from that witch (or, even better, to become such a being) is to seek our own soul-knowledge and mastery.

But that's the inner working; at the external level, there is also the very concrete reality of the witch's work, whether it be done alone in a cottage at the edge of town, or amongst compatriots in a coven. One certainly can be a witch alone, but sometimes one wants or needs the company of like-minded persons; hence the coven, where witches may meet for esbat or sabbat to work magick, dance, feast, or get up to other varieties of No Good. The woodcuts that so many of us find so evocative often portray what could be considered a coven: rings of witches dancing in a circle, often around a sinister horned figure. The modern reality tends to look a bit different, as it's difficult to fit a 20-foot-tall goat-man into a suburban living room; and many modern covens are more celebratory and, dare I say, religious in nature, gathering more for social purposes than magickal ones. (I frankly am less concerned about what the local coven may be getting up to than what's going on at the megachurch down the way, but in terms of actual impact it's easy to see which of those entities has the advantage.) There are benefits to having a support structure like a coven, like the sense of belonging and connection that can arise from being a part of a group, of a lineage, of a tradition with a real history about it; but such connections are not strictly necessary for one to be a witch.

The ideal situation for many would be to have a coven to meet with for certain occasions or purposes, while maintaining a vigorous personal practice on an as-needed basis. I have always found this model to be most effective for me. Having a network of trustworthy fellow practitioners with whom to discuss the art is highly desirable and, in the modern age, perhaps easier than ever to come by thanks to the internet; and having others with whom to gather and do the work of the witch can be extremely satisfying and enlivening. But even covened witches should remember that their work is sometimes best done alone, free of distraction, in that secluded cottage or forest glade or living room. You can be a witch alone, or witches all together; the work, and the wisdom, are the final determinants.