Journey Towards Initiation: My First Year and a Day
I am a witch. An initiated first degree Gardnerian-Alexandrian Wiccan to be precise. Trained and initiated by those that were trained and initiated before me. I have made some vows, there are some things I cannot tell you, but for the most part, this is the story of how I got here.
.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
It all started one uneventful evening surfing the web with my roomates. We were loking through the religious pages, just to see what they had to say. We happened upon a Wicca page which looked rather interesting so I decided to read it. I had heard of Wicca of course, but I had dismissed it like so many others do. Dismissed it as the shock religion of the teen goth culture. A bunch of confused Christian raised children rebelling against their parents in any way possible. Reading this site I saw that there was much more to it than that.
You see, I have always been fascinated with theology, and the ancient pagan religions in specific. My parents, the wonderful people that they are, knew that I would not accept any religion without first investigating my options. They taught me to accept everyone's faith, learn as much as I could, and make my own. I was an agnostic. I had faith in a higher being, but I didn't know, nor did I really care who it was. I figured I would find out when I died, or I wouldn't.
That night I read, and read, and then read some more. I read the entire website, and a couple others. I was shocked to find that most of the things that I had taken from other faiths were all in the same place. Plural gods and goddesses, heaven, but no hell, reincarnation, and so much more. It was all there. My roomates laughed at my enthusiasm. My random exclamations, agreeing with that which I was reading. I made the decision that night that I wanted to find more of these people. I wanted to join a group of like minded individuals. I wanted to celebrate the change of seasons, I wanted to sing and dance and find a group of people to sing and dance with me.
I started searching. I found books. Books upon books. "Textbooks" designed to teach one the craft and allow them to "self initiate". Novels about young women lighting candles with a snap of their fingers and flying through the night on broomsticks. What I did not find however was one single non-fiction book about what it is really like. Nothing to say, I have been where you are. This is how I got through. That is what this book is. This is my story. My journey. If you are looking to learn the craft, put this book down, I am not here to teach you. If you want to share my experience, I invite you heartily. Pull up a chair though, it was a very long year and a day.
.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Several weeks after my fateful internet adventure I got into the car with my mom. She was being very supportive as always and was taking me around town to try to find that elusive group of people with which I would share a religion. We had looked through the phone book for occult shops and found 2 different listings. The first was a large chain of stores located all around town. The second, a small place I had never heard of, named after a little known Jimmy Stewart movie.
We first went to large chain store located nearest us. Inside I was inundated by the sight of crystals hanging from everything. Large containers of stones to which 2 women seemed to be talking.
"I only take those which speak to me," one of them said when I looked at her.
Ok then. Shye seemed to mean this quite literally, so Idecided to talk to the store clerk, leaving the woman asking the stones which of them would be willing to help her.
Everything in this store was beautiful and very expensive. I commented to the clerk that I was thinking about becoming a Wiccan and did she have any reccomendations. She told me about a couple of books with a bored look, and then said that they offered a six week course for "only" $250 that would end with me having my very own book of spells photocopied right out of the books that they had there. I thanked her and said I would think about it.
I left that store disappointed. Was this all I would find? A world of people talking to rocks and bored teenagers offering me a six week course in Wicca? Where were al lthe real witches? Was the craft so secret that one had to be born into it to get the proper training? We left that store, but decided to go to the other one anyway. Maybe they, at least, would have some information on how to join a coven, if it was even really possible.
An hour later we finally found it. Nestled in a small shopping center I had driven by dozens of times. We pulled up and took our first good look at the place which would become my second home for the next four years. Painted on the window in fancy lettering were the words that would change my life. "Free Wicca Classes." Could it be true, could this be the place I was looking for all along?
As we entered the store a small bell tinkled in the doorway. This was a sound I would become very familiar with. We stood to take a good look around. The thing I remember most was the smell. There was a wonderful incense burning, sweet and smoky atthe same time. It was a very comforting smell. The store was lit perfectly, dim enough to give it some atmosphere, but bright enough to read the covers of the books, and the lables on all the jars. Boy were there jars. Herbs and oils lined one entire wall. Such strange names they had. Dragons Blood ink and oil, Doves Blood ink, Crown of Success oil, Money Drawing, Fast Luck, Come to Me, Hexing. More than I could ever read in a day. The other walls had books, candles of every shape and size, incenses, charcoals, and bath salts. In the center there were glass cases which held jewelry, stones, a few crystals, statues of many gods and goddesses. On the center shelf, upon a pedestal was a beautiful Egyptian goddess, with wings spread, looking serenely out onto the horizon.
"Bright Blessings. May I help you?"
We had been standing and looking around at this room right in the doorway. I looked to my right and saw an older woman. She looked frail, but exuded a strength that one rarely sees in this world.
"Ummm, yeah, I was kinda thinking about um converting or...whatever it is when you want to switch to um Wicca or something."
I was stammering like an idiot. With one glance I could tell that this woman had forgotten more about thecraft than I would ever know. I felt suddenly insecure, like a foolish youngster that I had judged others to be. I felt that at that very moment I was being judged, that she was seeing if I was worthy of even speaking to. Then she smiled. She told me all about the books that they had for beginners, she sold me a "grab bag" that had all of the components of a spell, candle, oil, incense, charcoal, bath salt, as well as a small pendant of the same goddess that stood watching over their showroom. She also told me all abouttheir Wicca classes, and that they had another one starting soon, and that she thought I should come.
She also showed me their temple room. A huge altar dominated one wall of the room, yet another figure of this same goddess perched atop this altar, along with many, many burning candles, most in jars, some not. There were quite a few other things on this altar as well. A sword, two knives, a large brass bowl on a cushion with a small thing that appeared to be a one handled rolling pin beside it. Other things as well, far too many to list, but these were the most prominent. She explained that this was where the students who did not have an altar at home could do their spellwork. She made me feel very welcome.
I left that store feeling much better about this choice of mine. I had signed up for these Wicca Classes and was to be expecting a call within the next month or so. The next few weeks were a bit of a whirlwind. I was reading the books that I had purchased. I did the spell that I purchased, it was a success spell and I got a new job, offered to me within hours of my candle burning out. I began to look atthe world in a different way. I saw balance in places I had not seen it before. The male and female aspect of everything. There is no good without evil, there is no life without both male and female, and there is nor order without chaos, but without balance all is chaos.
.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
By May first I had gotten the phone call, all they said was to bring a notebook and a pen, and to be there by 7pm on Wednesday. That was when our classes were to be held, 7pm on Wednesdays.
I entered the store at 6:30 pm on the assigned Wednesday, filled with trepidation. Who were these people? Would I like them? Had I made the right choice? I saw other people waiting like I was, there were about 30 nervous looking people with notebooks and pens, and about 35 more wearing hooded robes. Some on white, others in black, with different colors on the edges of their sleeves. All were wearing knotted ropes tied around their waists, and all had knives tucked into these ropes.
At 7:15 or so several of the very friendly young men and women in white ushered us into the temple room and seated us on cushions on the floor. A young man in white came up to the altar and took the brass bowl and rolling pin looking thing. He struck the bowl twice with the cylinder of wood and an immediate hush came over the room. With each strike came a loud, clear ring. I had never seen a bell like this. After about two or three minutes he struck the bell again, this time three strikes. Then he put the bell down and went to join all the other robed people in the store section of the building. We all sat there, looking around, no knowing what to expect next.
A woman entered the room. An older woman, with jet black hair and a crown upon her head. She wore robes of black and purple. Hers were the only ones of those colors in the room. Everyone in a robe parted to make way for her, and then she stood in front of us. She took several full minutes looking each of us in the eye in utter silence. And then she spoke.
"So, you want to be witches."
to be continued...
.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
It all started one uneventful evening surfing the web with my roomates. We were loking through the religious pages, just to see what they had to say. We happened upon a Wicca page which looked rather interesting so I decided to read it. I had heard of Wicca of course, but I had dismissed it like so many others do. Dismissed it as the shock religion of the teen goth culture. A bunch of confused Christian raised children rebelling against their parents in any way possible. Reading this site I saw that there was much more to it than that.
You see, I have always been fascinated with theology, and the ancient pagan religions in specific. My parents, the wonderful people that they are, knew that I would not accept any religion without first investigating my options. They taught me to accept everyone's faith, learn as much as I could, and make my own. I was an agnostic. I had faith in a higher being, but I didn't know, nor did I really care who it was. I figured I would find out when I died, or I wouldn't.
That night I read, and read, and then read some more. I read the entire website, and a couple others. I was shocked to find that most of the things that I had taken from other faiths were all in the same place. Plural gods and goddesses, heaven, but no hell, reincarnation, and so much more. It was all there. My roomates laughed at my enthusiasm. My random exclamations, agreeing with that which I was reading. I made the decision that night that I wanted to find more of these people. I wanted to join a group of like minded individuals. I wanted to celebrate the change of seasons, I wanted to sing and dance and find a group of people to sing and dance with me.
I started searching. I found books. Books upon books. "Textbooks" designed to teach one the craft and allow them to "self initiate". Novels about young women lighting candles with a snap of their fingers and flying through the night on broomsticks. What I did not find however was one single non-fiction book about what it is really like. Nothing to say, I have been where you are. This is how I got through. That is what this book is. This is my story. My journey. If you are looking to learn the craft, put this book down, I am not here to teach you. If you want to share my experience, I invite you heartily. Pull up a chair though, it was a very long year and a day.
.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Several weeks after my fateful internet adventure I got into the car with my mom. She was being very supportive as always and was taking me around town to try to find that elusive group of people with which I would share a religion. We had looked through the phone book for occult shops and found 2 different listings. The first was a large chain of stores located all around town. The second, a small place I had never heard of, named after a little known Jimmy Stewart movie.
We first went to large chain store located nearest us. Inside I was inundated by the sight of crystals hanging from everything. Large containers of stones to which 2 women seemed to be talking.
"I only take those which speak to me," one of them said when I looked at her.
Ok then. Shye seemed to mean this quite literally, so Idecided to talk to the store clerk, leaving the woman asking the stones which of them would be willing to help her.
Everything in this store was beautiful and very expensive. I commented to the clerk that I was thinking about becoming a Wiccan and did she have any reccomendations. She told me about a couple of books with a bored look, and then said that they offered a six week course for "only" $250 that would end with me having my very own book of spells photocopied right out of the books that they had there. I thanked her and said I would think about it.
I left that store disappointed. Was this all I would find? A world of people talking to rocks and bored teenagers offering me a six week course in Wicca? Where were al lthe real witches? Was the craft so secret that one had to be born into it to get the proper training? We left that store, but decided to go to the other one anyway. Maybe they, at least, would have some information on how to join a coven, if it was even really possible.
An hour later we finally found it. Nestled in a small shopping center I had driven by dozens of times. We pulled up and took our first good look at the place which would become my second home for the next four years. Painted on the window in fancy lettering were the words that would change my life. "Free Wicca Classes." Could it be true, could this be the place I was looking for all along?
As we entered the store a small bell tinkled in the doorway. This was a sound I would become very familiar with. We stood to take a good look around. The thing I remember most was the smell. There was a wonderful incense burning, sweet and smoky atthe same time. It was a very comforting smell. The store was lit perfectly, dim enough to give it some atmosphere, but bright enough to read the covers of the books, and the lables on all the jars. Boy were there jars. Herbs and oils lined one entire wall. Such strange names they had. Dragons Blood ink and oil, Doves Blood ink, Crown of Success oil, Money Drawing, Fast Luck, Come to Me, Hexing. More than I could ever read in a day. The other walls had books, candles of every shape and size, incenses, charcoals, and bath salts. In the center there were glass cases which held jewelry, stones, a few crystals, statues of many gods and goddesses. On the center shelf, upon a pedestal was a beautiful Egyptian goddess, with wings spread, looking serenely out onto the horizon.
"Bright Blessings. May I help you?"
We had been standing and looking around at this room right in the doorway. I looked to my right and saw an older woman. She looked frail, but exuded a strength that one rarely sees in this world.
"Ummm, yeah, I was kinda thinking about um converting or...whatever it is when you want to switch to um Wicca or something."
I was stammering like an idiot. With one glance I could tell that this woman had forgotten more about thecraft than I would ever know. I felt suddenly insecure, like a foolish youngster that I had judged others to be. I felt that at that very moment I was being judged, that she was seeing if I was worthy of even speaking to. Then she smiled. She told me all about the books that they had for beginners, she sold me a "grab bag" that had all of the components of a spell, candle, oil, incense, charcoal, bath salt, as well as a small pendant of the same goddess that stood watching over their showroom. She also told me all abouttheir Wicca classes, and that they had another one starting soon, and that she thought I should come.
She also showed me their temple room. A huge altar dominated one wall of the room, yet another figure of this same goddess perched atop this altar, along with many, many burning candles, most in jars, some not. There were quite a few other things on this altar as well. A sword, two knives, a large brass bowl on a cushion with a small thing that appeared to be a one handled rolling pin beside it. Other things as well, far too many to list, but these were the most prominent. She explained that this was where the students who did not have an altar at home could do their spellwork. She made me feel very welcome.
I left that store feeling much better about this choice of mine. I had signed up for these Wicca Classes and was to be expecting a call within the next month or so. The next few weeks were a bit of a whirlwind. I was reading the books that I had purchased. I did the spell that I purchased, it was a success spell and I got a new job, offered to me within hours of my candle burning out. I began to look atthe world in a different way. I saw balance in places I had not seen it before. The male and female aspect of everything. There is no good without evil, there is no life without both male and female, and there is nor order without chaos, but without balance all is chaos.
.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
By May first I had gotten the phone call, all they said was to bring a notebook and a pen, and to be there by 7pm on Wednesday. That was when our classes were to be held, 7pm on Wednesdays.
I entered the store at 6:30 pm on the assigned Wednesday, filled with trepidation. Who were these people? Would I like them? Had I made the right choice? I saw other people waiting like I was, there were about 30 nervous looking people with notebooks and pens, and about 35 more wearing hooded robes. Some on white, others in black, with different colors on the edges of their sleeves. All were wearing knotted ropes tied around their waists, and all had knives tucked into these ropes.
At 7:15 or so several of the very friendly young men and women in white ushered us into the temple room and seated us on cushions on the floor. A young man in white came up to the altar and took the brass bowl and rolling pin looking thing. He struck the bowl twice with the cylinder of wood and an immediate hush came over the room. With each strike came a loud, clear ring. I had never seen a bell like this. After about two or three minutes he struck the bell again, this time three strikes. Then he put the bell down and went to join all the other robed people in the store section of the building. We all sat there, looking around, no knowing what to expect next.
A woman entered the room. An older woman, with jet black hair and a crown upon her head. She wore robes of black and purple. Hers were the only ones of those colors in the room. Everyone in a robe parted to make way for her, and then she stood in front of us. She took several full minutes looking each of us in the eye in utter silence. And then she spoke.
"So, you want to be witches."
to be continued...
posted by SweetMagic1 @ 11:26 AM
2 comments
