The Witch Next Door

Again.

The first time it happened, I came to the emotionally painful realization that I wasn’t a Christian. No matter how hard my head told me to just shut up and stay the course, my heart told me that my current path at the time was not for me. I didn’t realize what it meant fully, but when my heart became louder than my head, I panicked. I didn’t want to be different. I wanted to be the same as everyone else. I wanted to live a simple, drama free life. And what’s more drama free than sticking to the religion most of your family and country practice??

The second time it happened, I was compelled to move to my current residence. The Goddess granted me everything I needed. I had a shitty credit score and no money. She gave us a luxury apartment. I needed to live near the water. She gave me a creek that runs through my backyard. I needed to commune with nature. She gave me a forest within a few steps of my reach.

So I gave back. I started a witchcraft study group that later became a coven. I train and counsel others on their paths. I was content...until I wasn’t.

For some years now, I’ve been feeling like I’m ready to undergo metamorphosis. Like there’s this energy in me that is begging to get out. But I was scared. I didn’t want to be powerful. I wanted to live a simple, drama free life. (Are you sensing a pattern here?)

So I fought it. I ignored the signs. The call of my ancestral heritage began making its presence known, but I pushed it aside. I was a Wiccan, right?!

The calls got louder. My husband did a dna test on me and we found out my people hail from Benin. The birthplace of Vodou.

I ignored the tingle in my spine when I found out.

Then a dedicant of mine mentioned following various witchy groups on Facebook. Curious as an owl, I eventually looked for myself.

And was amazed at what I found. A whole rich world of black and brown women connecting across the world...all over African Traditional Religions. The ancestral drums got louder as I dove into research. They were honoring orishas and Lwas; shunning Western religious ideology and turning back to their roots.

They were strong and proud...and powerful. I didn’t want that type of power, I reminded myself, relieved. I just wanted to help people on *their* path. So I deemed my research concluded and went about my merrily way.

But the Goddess is not through with me yet. She sent a spirit (whom my coven calls ‘Fred’ affectionately) to hang out in my bedroom. Fred and I bickered because I didn’t want him to keep me awake at night. And I didn’t want to be visited by spirits, damn it! That wasn’t my gift.

He eventually went away after I rebuked him. I was satisfied, until a fellow witch did a tarot reading for me. And told me that Fred was sent as a collaborator. As someone that will help me grow. I reluctantly returned back to my bedroom and apologized to Fred.

And then I began real research into what my ancestors did. The first step is untangling what the Western world has deemed as fact from what is actually true. That means understanding that my magickal heritage is not evil or something to be afraid of.

That’s a lot of fucking work, y’all.

The second step is moving past fear to actual practice. Last night, I decided that it was time. Time for me to do my own sour jars. Time for me to start embracing what I have inherited.

Time for me to return back home.

I think I might be the odd one out. I'm one of those types of witches that you would never suspect. I don't have a pentacle on my key chain. My witchy tools fit neatly into a wooden chest I found years ago. Most of the time I say "cheers" instead of "blessed be".

When I dedicated myself to the craft many moons ago, I decided to learn about runes. Scratch that- runes called to me. Wouldn't leave me alone. So I picked up a book to investigate. And then it was decided that I needed to ya know, actually practice reading them.

It never occurred to me to buy my runes. In my mind, I wanted to be close to the Earth. So I went out, found small pepples that were wonderfully varied, and created my own rune set. I still have them to this day.

A couple of my witchy friends have a lot of stuff. Tons of candles. Tons of ribbons and beads and essential oils and cute house decorations and just amazing stuff! Whenever I go to their houses I feel like I'm in a wonderland. But it can also be suffocating for me. Why so much clutter?

If I see something magical that I like, I ask myself if I need it. Is it calling to me? Am I compelled to answer? 99% the answer is "nah!" and I move on. For me, that's perfectly fine. Because that 1% of the time that the answer is yes...oh, dear reader. The energy, the feeling of that object being in your hand because yes! right now it's exactly what you needed, how you needed it...that feeling is amazing. The universe is wise and being the Taurus that I am, I'm content being patient and waiting for her to let me know what is essential.

Yup.

An Earth Witch who can NOT garden. I’ll give it a try again now that I’m here in the Midwest, but back in the desert states I killed cactus plants. Not intentionally of course. I would be pretty upset when I would come out onto my balcony and see the plant drooping despite my best efforts.

“What am I doing wrong?!” I would cry to my husband.

“Maybe you aren’t watering it enough.” He would gently say.

Sigh.

So how can I be an Earth Witch and kill plants?! Google says that Earth Witches are one with the plants.

Little fledgling Earth Witches out there, let me tell you something: fuck Google.

Sorry.

Not really.

What does your heart tell you? Mine tells me that Mother Nature and I are the same. My skin sweats salty water (just like the sea), my kinky cotton hair defies gravity, my laugh calms angered souls, my wrath can move mountains. My womb has produced life despite all the odds, my hips and peaks carry my offspring. I am sought out often as a therapist, being in my space makes people feel safe and self aware. My three animal companions (1 plain house cat, 1 cat familiar and 1 silly puppy) keep me humble and grounded. My home is messy and lived in and love flows throughout. My mother is a Water Witch. My daughter (born on the eve of a new year) might be an Earth Witch if the calling is there. I, just like Mother Earth, am legacy.

This is not cockiness. These are facts.

So I am an Earth Witch. I am a slice of Mother Nature. I am a provider. I am tough. I am resilient.

I am an Earth Witch.  And when I moved to the Southwest (of the United States) five years ago, I didn’t know this. I was a Witch, but I was still exploring traditions in an attempt to understand what called me to the Path to begin with. All I knew was that I needed to be by a large body of water. I thought the Pacific ocean was the body of water I needed (coming from the landlocked Midwest where I was partially raised). 

As time moved on, I told myself I was happy. Right? Everyone wants to live in the Southwest and we were doing it, so I had no reason to be unhappy, right? I worked in the super cool music business, I lived near the mountains.  I didn’t see the water much (maybe once a year) but that was OK because I knew it was near. The air was a bit polluted thanks to all of the cars. The seasons didn’t appear to change, grass died in the Summer and struggled to reappear in the Spring, the only animals I ever saw where the starving coyotes, the thirsty ants desperately seeking water and the parrots who would tell us every time they took flight for greener pastures. But this was exactly what I wanted, right? 

When we decided to move back to the Midwest, I was in shock at how green it was. How could I have missed this five years ago?? My husband and I were looking for a place to live, but due to financial hardships it took us three months. During that time, I became incredibly depressed. I was already very sick with a new autoimmune disease, extremely stressed with starting a new job in a new place, and as a Taurus, I needed to have a home base that I could unwind in. 

We finally came across a luxury apartment complex that had a huge man made lake stocked with fish. It had a mile long walking path that circled it, with picnic tables tucked within pockets of lush grass and beautiful trees. It shared a home with tons of ducks, geese, swans and Blue Herons. The manager showed me around and let me see the apartment that was vacant. It was perfect. Spacious with dark wood floors, granite counters and a fire place. The patio faced a creek, and since it was winter time, it was Winter Wonderland. The trees were draped with snow, hunched protectively over the creek. I opened the door and took a deep breath, smiling at the clean air and the sound of the flowing water. I turned back to the manager and told her that the place was beautiful, but we probably wouldn’t be able to get approved. 

She smiled knowingly. “Don’t worry. We work with hard cases.”