I am a defensive witch. I am a get the fuck away from me witch, a don’t mess with my friends witch, a you’ll get back the pain you give tenfold witch. I am a defensive witch and my magic is defensive magic. I’m all about blocking, warding, purifying, preventing. I carry selenite and black tourmaline; I wear blessed rings and poison-tempered iron. My dark colors and sharp metal adornments say Do Not Touch! and they mean it. I build a perimeter of fiery prayer around my home, ready to incinerate any who mean it harm. I protect, and when I cannot protect I retaliate. I am a defensive witch and my magic is retribution magic, justice magic, an eye-for-an-eye balancing-of-the-scales magic. I pray my goddesses deliver ruin upon rapists and animal abusers; I offer my rage and sorrow to strengthen them as they tear apart unworthy hearts. I am a defensive witch because with the world in shambles you have to hold your ground and protect what’s yours – and I am prepared to do whatever it takes. That is my craft. That is my way.
and in doing so to dismantle the prison tower of my own creation
and to build in its place a watchtower to stand against the darkness.
I offer my determination if You offer your strength.
I offer my sincerity if you offer Your guidance.
I offer my faith if you offer Your goodwill.
And by this oath for a year and a day are we bound.
People make it sound like summoning the Devil is so easy. Witches do it all the time, right? Call him up, sell your soul, get some sweet-ass powers in return. He’s always on the lookout for another person to trap in his web, after all; apparently all you need to do is light a black candle, maybe spill a little blood, and you’re good. Hello Lucy. That’s what they say, anyway, and it’s probably true for most people. Satan’s a devious one, he doesn’t often let opportunity slip by. But what if he’s tired of you? What if he’s moved on, chosen some other mortal to imperil and left you in the dust? If he said, “You can have your soul back, just stop calling me” or “Move on already, you’re embarrassing us both”? It can’t be so easy then. How do you go about commanding the Devil to do anything he doesn’t want to do? Do you crash someone else’s summoning, like just burst through the circle and yell, “Unblock me, you motherfucker!”? Nah, once Lucifer’s done with you I bet nothing in Heaven or Hell could draw him back. You’d keep trying, though. Believe me, you keep trying.
I’ve never been tempted by the idea of immortality (surely all those years must drag one into another at some point, who wants to hang around for that long?) and I’ve never cared much for physical beauty or youth (I prefer the anonymity of mediocrity and look forward with eagerness to my first gray hair) but housing prices these days are just outrageous, it’s almost criminal, and thus if I’m guaranteed a little cottage in the woods, all paid up and legally mine, then sure I could use my witchy wiles to lure a couple kids a year into my cauldron and cook up whatever spells you want, my singing’s not half bad, does the talking cat come with the cottage or is he extra?
They warn me not to put all my trust in the Morrigan. They tell me to beware Her wrath, Her fickleness, even Her passion which can so easily crush a little mortal life. Be afraid! they say. Be careful! Yet I have never been good at following directions and I have always abhorred the cage of good intentions meant to protect me. No wonder proud Lucifer appeals to me, as well as willful Inanna. Did Lucifer not crash headlong through fear and into freedom when he chose to fall? Did Inanna not cast fear off seven times to reach her own death and resurrection? How can we embrace the unknown of transformation if we cling to fear? How can we forge a true connection with our gods if we allow fear to alter our every interaction with them? I will respect and revere the Morrigan, but I will not fear Her so greatly that I bind our relationship up in clauses and legalese. I will offer Her what I can. I will accept what She offers in return. That will be enough. Her road leads to dark places and with my oath I am swearing to trust Her to lead me safely when I cannot see the path. I will not fear that She may abandon me in the darkness. I will not carry a lantern in case She leads me astray. I will trust – and if I get burned for that trust then so be it, no hard feelings. How else can we learn? How else can we change and grow?
These crises are a dime a dozen, child. You have ocean trenches of depth within you, jagged mountain peaks of height, you could fall forever inside yourself – but would you not rather fly? In your dreams you fight against gravity, longing for the sky, for the freedom your soul knows is your birthright. You have wings, crow-daughter, use them! The chains which bind you to the earth are self-imposed, forged in your mind and anchored in your heart. There is no key, no spell, no magic phrase which can open those locks; you must break them yourself with your own rage and hunger to be free. You have the strength necessary for such a feat if only you will harness it, and now is the time. Demolish your gilded cage, become a wild thing of black feathers and witchblood!
In my dreams I fight wars alongside rebel brethren or cast salt circles with blood-sisters only to wake missing little pieces of my heart I unknowingly left behind in those other worlds, in those other people, and my arms do not understand why I cannot hold those loved ones again and my lips do not understand why I cannot remember their names and I am pushing back the sheets, feeding the cats, dressing for work, going through the motions of the mundane everyday while some part of me mourns that which my mind can barely grasp, details fading in the morning light, and though the effort is futile still I beg sisters, brothers, comrades, friends, come back, come back, come back!