Turning A Leaf

 

We can do better.

Sadly, I think I've kind of kept the vibe a little low, the attitude a little negative, around here in the past. I stand by those things, of course, and I'm not saying I'll never turn to the dark side again in the future--Gods know there's plenty of things to be negative about, both in the craft and out of it--but I'm feeling like I need to balance that out a bit. Truth is, I love the craft, otherwise I wouldn't still be doing this after all these years and all this heartache--because there's been a lot of joy involved too, big moments and small. So in the future, I resolve to do better, and to bring some of that light forth as well. In the midst of (gestures vaguely around) , we all need a little light.

Who Has The Right?

If you put yourself out there in any capacity--as a teacher, a coven leader, an initiate of anything--someone will eventually come popping up seemingly from nowhere to challenge you on it. It does not matter what your bona fides are; you could be the finest witch with the most impeccable lineage imaginable, and some asshole will still appear to question your validity, deny your right to do what you're doing, tell you your upline is illegitimate, or a dozen other things. And the reason why is simple: people suck.

People suck, and a great many of the suckiest among them can be found in religious and spiritual sectors. Why that is, is a topic for another dissertation, but just believe me when I say that it's so. Among the worst people I have known in my adult life, the bulk of them have been other witches, pagans, and occultists. These people have bullied me publicly and privately, harassed me online, denied the validity of my initiates, claimed I did things I didn't do and didn't do things I did do, tried to ruin my coven, break up my marriage, and the list goes on. I'm far from the only one who has experienced this. A dear friend and initiate of mine once told the tale of attending a public pagan gathering and overhearing some complete strangers discussing him, gleefully recounting all the horrible things he'd supposedly done, with him sitting right at their same table completely unknown to them. If it's true that people love gossip, the more salacious and outrageous the better, then it's magnified a thousandfold in the pagan/Wiccan/occult sectors. It would be hilariously stupid if only it didn't cause real harm.

Why does it happen? One reason is because a lot of heavily damaged people find their way to the craft in hopes of fixing that damage; but as the saying goes, hurt people hurt other people, so instead of finding personal healing they seek scapegoats. Instead of addressing their own feelings of illegitimacy they challenge that of others. Some genuinely deserve compassion; others are genuinely nasty people who deserve only contempt, and our best efforts to avoid them and minimize where possible the damage they seek to do. I've found an inordinate number of that second kind over the years.

As the friend I mentioned above once told me, they behave so badly because the stakes are so small. 

I am a part of two Wiccan traditions: the one in which I was originally initiated and trained, and the one which my partner and I developed. I have been questioned and challenged about my place and my rights in both of them at various times, and let me state loudly and clearly that I do not give one single shit whether someone unknown to me, whose opinion means nothing to me, considers me a valid witch or teacher or priestess. And neither, dear reader, should you. The person who starts off with a challenge doesn't want information, they want a fight; they want you on the defensive, want you shaken, want you to doubt yourself. Don't give them what they want. If you're up for a battle, then turn it back on them and question them in turn, but in general it's better to defuse the situation and walk away. Pick your battles carefully or you'll end up with a broken heart and an ulcer, because these people live to drain others dry. Don't open a vein for them.

If someone questions your lineage, tell 'em it's oathbound. Tell them you were brought in by a witch who was brought in by another witch. Tell them you don't have any. Tell them it's none of their godsdamn business. Tell them you made it all up yourself, or you read it in a book, or a wizard in a cave on a high mountaintop passed his wisdom on to you. If you are a member of a tradition and you put yourself out there as such, then you can certainly expect to hear from others of that trad; but there is a big difference between the friendly curiosity of one initiate to another, and the malignant interest of the bully. The sooner you learn to differentiate between the two, and to react appropriately, the better off you'll be. And if you are trying to enter initiate space and need to prove your bona fides, you should already know how to provide a requested vouch. Randos on the internet trying to provoke you or discredit you do not deserve consideration.

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.