Llewellyn's 2012 Witches' Companion

by Llewellyn

  ‡ This is the word I use to signify the spiritual significance of the connections and relationships we forge with the beings in the living world of which we are wholly a part.

  But, You Don’t Look

  Like a Witch

  Mickie Mueller

  I made my way through the city streets of St. Louis on my way to drop off a proof sheet and a disk of art files to one of our printers. You know, boring industry stuff for my day job. I could have passed for anyone in the pre-press business, wearing slacks, a conservative top with cardigan (perish the thought), and jewelry you can buy at any department store. No witchy boots on my feet nor pointy hat atop my auburn locks. So what’s a nice witch like me doing in a getup like that? I had to ask myself, am I any less of a witch in my casual work attire, without even a small pentacle tucked inside my blouse?

  Ok, all of us know that real witches don’t have green skin, warts and wear pointy hats, right? Well, that old Halloween witch stereotype used to be what everyone in the mainstream world believed witches looked like. So are there new stereotypes of what witches should look like? And if so, where do these stereotypes come from, and are you “witchy enough” for your fellow witches? Do you lose your power without your pentagram on?

  There are some in the Pagan community who seem very concerned about who looks witchy enough, or the importance of wearing your magical jewelry to every occasion, magical or mundane. Some people wear “witchy” garb everywhere they go, and kudos to those who can and do. There are also those in the community who—because of regional, work, family, or other reasons—are in no position to realistically go about in a swoosh of black with a big pentagram. For example, I would love to have a real estate agent who is also a witch, but I probably wouldn’t want her wearing a flowing black cape and a pentagram the size of a hubcap while showing my home to a potential buyer. Why? I live in the real world, where a buyer might not be sympathetic to my personal religious choices. Those prejudices could make it hard for me to get my house sold, which could hurt my family and well-being. As a witch, my real estate agent might have plenty of magic tricks up her sleeve to help sell my house, and she doesn’t need her best gothic gear to do it either.

  I know a witch who works at a funky clothing boutique, and she dresses up everyday for work, and it’s never a problem. But for her sister’s baby shower, she toned it down. She wore nice casual clothing and left the witch-specific jewelry at home, because the gathering was about her sister and the exciting upcoming event, and she didn’t want to take away from that. Another witch works for the public defender’s office. She wears a suit to work and looks very professional, doesn’t even wear a small pentagram hidden in her shirt (for her client’s sake, she would never take a chance on it popping out in court). At a Pagan event, she’s got her ritual garb on, and I’ve stood with her in a circle—she is a force to be reckoned with. I would dare anyone to say she’s not witchy enough in her work clothes, jogging suit, or jeans. My point is that these two witches are who they are on the inside, with or without their witchy outfits.

  The other side of the “not witchy enough” coin is the big Pagan festival where many people like to dress over the top, which, let’s face it, is way fun. I love to wear my so-called “witchy” clothes to events where I’m meeting with other witches and Pagans. Flowing black, a sexy corset, a pirate shirt, or funky boots are a blast to wear, and it does make us feel witchy, doesn’t it? I’ve also been to Pagan events where many people were totally casual—jeans, T-shirts, or even business casual. Some people might have their Born Again Pagan T-shirt on, and most wore their spiritual jewelry. I’ve actually seen some people at these events either snub one person for not dressing witchy enough, and another for being too theatrical and over the top. To me this is really unbelievable. As Pagans and witches, we need to stick together and not judge each other, especially for something as material and subjective as fashion. A Pagan festival should be a place to get away from worries about being judged. We get enough of that in the everyday world, we shouldn’t have to worry about it from our fellow witches.

  Allow me to illustrate this point. Below are descriptions of a few witches I know personally and what they are often seen wearing in the everyday world. You probably know at least some people who fit these descriptions. Don’t think for a minute that any of these is more of a witch than the other; I’ve known powerful witches who have worked all of these styles and everything in between. One witch can change their look depending on where they plan to go, but the witch inside is what counts.

  Corporate Witch

  This is the witch in the business world. This witch often wears a suit or slacks and blazer with a nice shirt because they understand that in the corporate world, such clothing is acceptable and portrays an illusion of power. Even to another witch, they might not be recognized, except for that certain air about them. Charisma, perhaps? This witch might have a small piece of magical jewelry tucked away somewhere, or maybe not. They also might have a piece much more subtle that they have enchanted the heck out of. This witch, although totally incognito at work, probably has a closet full of the finest ritual wear you’ve ever seen.

  Business Casual Witch

  The casual witch often comes in under the radar and can be seen in a blouse and slacks or really nice jeans for a woman, perhaps an oxford, designer T-shirt, or polo shirt for a man. This might be a teacher, PTA member, bartender, retailer, or someone you meet at a family gathering. This witch chooses the colors of their clothes for magical purposes for that day. They might wear New Age–style jewelry, such as magical stones/crystals or Celtic knots, in lieu of a pentagram or other witch-specific jewelry. Possibly wearing magical oils, this witch is keeping the world moving, working witchy ways behind the scenes with a quiet strength.

  Day-Off Witch

  You’ve run into this witch at the store, on their day off, picking up milk, bread, and eggs or gassing up the car. Jeans or shorts, paired with who knows what, but sometimes it’ll be a sci-fi/fantasy T-shirt, or even a T-shirt proclaiming their witch status. After all, it’s their day off! You’re likely to spot the tell tale pentagram, Greenman, or Goddess jewelry, though it may be tucked depending how far out of the broom closet they are.

  Hippie Witch

  Broom stick skirts, tie-dye, batik, and funky embroidered clothes made in India are the mainstay for this free spirit. You can see the hippie witch sporting their style working at a record store, boutique, on their days off, or at a Pagan Festival. The hippie witch is often in a setting where witch-specific jewelry is not a big deal at all, so they’re probably wearing plenty of it mixed with hippie stuff. Magical oils are a great scent for this witch, either pure or blended.

  Gothy/Classic Witch

  Black, red, and purple are some of the shades you’ll see the goth or classic witch wearing. Anything with an old world flair, medieval lace-up stuff, like you might find in Bram Stoker’s closet. This witch probably owns some fabulous pointy witch hats. Classic witchy boots, combat boots, or anything in between will be seen stomping out this high fashion witchy style. Any witch-specific jewelry will be worn right out in the open. Dramatic makeup finishes this wild witchy look. You’ll probably spot this witch out for the night or at indoor events (some outdoor events are too hot for this style).

  So which witch is the witchiest? All of them! These can be, and often are, the same witch on different days. The important thing to remember is that whether you look like an obvious witch to anyone on the street or not, a witch is who you are on the inside. It’s a belief, a faith, a way of life, and it doesn’t matter what you look like. You can take away all the trappings of a witch, but the person inside is still the same. You are a magical person whether you’re in a business suit, jogging suit, or ritual robes, and if you believe in your magic, you have nothing to prove!

  So, it turns out that my business slacks and cardigan are actually my wit
chy clothes. Do you know why? Because it’s a real witch wearing them.

  Mickie Mueller is an award-winning and critically acclaimed artist of fantasy, fairy, and myth. She is an ordained Pagan minister and has studied natural magic, Celtic tradition, and Faerie Tradition. She is also a Reiki healing master/teacher in the Usui Shiki Royoho Tradition. She enjoys creating magical art full of fairies, goddesses, and beings of folklore. She works primarily in a mix of colored pencil and watercolor infused with magical herbs corresponding to her subject matter. Mickie is the illustrator of The Well Worn Path and The Hidden Path tarot decks and the writer/illustrator of The Voice of the Trees, A Celtic Ogham Divination Oracle from Llewellyn. Mickie is a regular article contributor to several of Llewellyn’s annuals.

  Illustrator: Tim Foley

  Witch Parent

  Dallas Jennifer Cobb

  This article is about being Wiccan or Pagan and a parent. It’s not a “how-to” article, but a personal discussion of the joys and pains of parenting in a mainstream society, maintaining my faith in isolation and changing times, and coming into a different sort of magical community through my child. It is also about what this process has taught me about being Pagan.

  Sometimes it feels like there’s a constant choice to be made between “belonging” and being Pagan. With a child in the public school system, Pagan parents often face the challenge of deciding “which” parent to be at any given time: the Pagan parent or the mainstream parent.

  But over time, both parenting and mainstream society have taught me profound lessons about being a better Pagan. I have come to see that I can be both a practicing Pagan and a good parent, all at the same time. No longer wondering “which” parent to be, I know I am a “Witch” parent.

  Nothing Remains the Same

  For many of us, faith is a very personal matter, as is our Pagan practice. We develop our own interpretation of what it means to be Pagan. We seek out like-minded people and take part in circles, rituals, and community gatherings that reflect our understanding of the craft.

  Because being Pagan has historically meant being an “outsider,” we are comfortable with being unique and making individual choices about our beliefs, identity, and magical practices. And our magical communities are usually comprised of people who share similar ideas, ideals, and practices.

  But once we have children, who we are and how we are changes. This catalyst causes change to ripple throughout our entire lives, changing our Pagan practice and our magical communities.

  For many new parents, the change in their Pagan practice and community coincides with the birth of their baby. Perhaps the Moon circles meet too late at night for the baby, imbibing at rituals feels alien for the nursing mom, or the sky-clad Sabbat celebrants don’t seem like an ideal mix with young children. After the birth of a child, many aspects of the Pagan practice and community that were previously unquestioned and accepted can feel unsettling, unwanted, or even unsafe.

  Winds of Change

  When I had my daughter, I felt very protective. I no longer felt safe at the wild and rollicking Pagan gatherings I used to enjoy so much. I found the imbibing of alcohol (and sometimes drugs) worrisome. I was leery of the blatantly sexual energy that wafted around at rituals. And because I couldn’t change these things—indeed had always previously enjoyed them—I realized that I needed to change.

  Drawn to the quiet safety of home and hearth that felt cozy and protective, not just for me but for my baby, my Pagan practice shifted from very communal and community-driven to a solitary, private practice.

  My Moon circle disappeared first. Comprised of child-free adults, they wanted to continue to meet at night, often very late at night, and that didn’t work for me as the parent of an infant. While struggling to decide what to do, how to balance my Pagan circle and my parenting, I was told very plainly that children were not welcome in the circle. That made the choice an easy one: I left the circle.

  Drawn to the quiet safety of home that felt cozy and protective … my Pagan practice shifted from very communal and community-driven to a solitary, private practice.

  Community rituals and Sabbat celebrations disappeared next. Because my circle and therefore my community were mostly child-free adults, I didn’t feel comfortable taking my baby to rituals. Everyone seemed to expect her to be absolutely silent. She wasn’t a cry-baby, but a cooer. Still, her sounds of pleasure and wonder drew looks of scorn and whispers, which drained my energy. And so I stopped attending community rituals and celebrations.

  My summer sojourns to witch camp also ceased. Sure, there was a camp that welcomed children, but when I contemplated packing up all the stuff needed for baby and me, along with the reality of camping out with her for a week, I was exhausted just thinking about it. So, I didn’t go.

  With a baby only a few months old, I found myself totally alone in my Pagan practice.

  A New Path

  As a new mother, I became a solitary practitioner, with my home, hearth, and family at the center of my Pagan practice. I created rituals, magical craft, and Sabbat celebrations for my little family. My home became a magical realm, steeped in altars and sacred spaces. I conducted Moon rituals for just myself and my infant daughter. Swaddled in the warmth of my arms, I took her out to meet the Moon. And the Goddess welcomed her, asleep or awake, cooing or crying.

  In those early years, with a sleeping or breast-feeding babe in my arms, and later with an active toddler, I worked a lot of solitary magic, casting spells, manifesting, chanting, and celebrating in the comfort and safety of my home. And as she grew, my daughter came to love the craft, learning seasonal stories, making magical crafts, and participating in rituals.

  All was well on my new path until my daughter went off to school. The wheel of time turned again and our little world expanded beyond the confines of home and hearth, family, and friends as a result of my daughter’s new community.

  Finding Magic Everywhere

  “Magic is the movement of natural energies to create needed change,” writes Scott Cunningham in Spell Crafts (Llewellyn, 1993). And when I let go of my narrow scope of what a magical community ought to look like, I started to see magic everywhere.

  On the first day of school, I walked my daughter up to the school, sent her into the play yard, and stood outside the gate with the parents of the other kids in her class. I heard many spells of protection cast, blessings, and repeated reminders of the Wiccan Rede.

  Parents were telling their children “Listen to your teacher, and they will help you” (Bide the Wiccan Law ye must, in perfect love and perfect trust), “Have fun, and no one gets hurt” (An ye harm none, do as ye will), “Be good and good things will happen” (What ye send out, comes back to thee), and “I will be waiting right here for you after school. I love you” (Merry meet and merry part, and merry meet again).

  So I widened my concept of Pagan practice. Instead of limiting it to the stereotypes I held, I allowed for the possibility that the same concepts were at the root of almost every spiritual and religious practice. Essentially, everyone was striving to live their lives by the same principles I was.

  I allowed for the possibility that the same concepts were at the root of almost every spiritual and religious practice. Essentially, everyone was striving to live their lives by the same principles I was.

  Starhawk says that “each individual is a living embodiment of the sacred. The divine experience is equally available to all, and each person’s experience of the divine is valid and important.”* When I watched parents with their children, I was able to see first the child, and later the parent, as a living embodiment of the sacred. And it helped me to see that love was at the root of that sacred practice.

  A New Circle

  The other moms (and a few dads) who dropped off and picked up children in front of the school were easy acquaintances with whom I shared
these daily magical rituals. They were a cluster of people who usually stood in a small circle, exchanging news, gossip, and advice. Soon, I learned that they also knew a lot about “magic.”

  From them I learned the magical formulas for getting rid of head lice, the manifestation spell and incantation to use with teachers to manifest extra support in class, and tried-and-true spells for stopping bullies. Even though these were not Pagan moms, I had to concede that in their circle, they were working big magic.

  I was also invited to participate in “rituals.” The Samhain ritual of sugar feasting held school-wide, the annual Yule celebration concert, and the Ostara weekend festival of magical crafts, feasting, and egg hunts.

  With school counsel, I did big group prosperity “magic.” Starting with a dilapidated playground, we manifested money, supplies, and workers, and created a magical playground. An enchantment spell was cast on the principal who intoned the power of the project. We conjured a binding spell on the school board, and they used “found” magic to manifest a hidden source of money to build the new playground.

  And here I thought I was the only one who believed in magic!

  Within the school, I got involved with classroom tutoring and found a place to work my own brand of magic. I taught kids affirmations that enabled them to believe in their powers. I facilitated rituals and rites that led to the memorization of alphabets, numbers, and rhymes. I taught the magical art of decoding letters and words, and I led recreational clubs that incorporated meditation, reflection, and focused intention.

  When I really opened my eyes, I saw magic being practiced all around me.

  Living In Translation