W is for Witch

Watching a peregrine falcon drop out of the sky, fast as lightning, I thought, this can only be magic.

I have been reading about witches, and the word has stuck, occupying my thoughts during my morning stroll.

Do you ever find yourself yearning for mystery and magic, or is it just me?

I have often wondered why so many of us are drawn to fantasy. Why grown adults lose themselves in stories of wizards and dragons, hidden realms and ancient castles. Why Arthurian legends still excite us like they did when we were little. I'm one of them and not ashamed to admit it. I have a pet dragon that travels with me everywhere. His name is Filippo.

I'm not mad, I swear. I'm simply a nostalgic who believes in the stories our peoples have told for many, many moons. Those stories are ours, mine and yours. The sacred grove, the raven that brings omens, the deities associated with the turning of the seasons. It is the folklore of the European peoples, and the way our ancestors passed down the mythology of the land. When we lose ourselves in these tales we are entering our collective memory, awakened by storytelling.

There was a time, not so long ago, when the world was bursting with magic. The river was a serpent and the mountain a sleeping giant. Dreams were messages from other realms and animals shared the oracle of the earth with us. Our relationship with nature was full of mystery, and that mystery kept our curiosity of the world alive.

I find that modern life is not interested in wonder. We moved to cities and air conditioned apartments, and interact with artificial intelligence for much of the day. We pushed magic to the margins, into children's tales, old wives' talk, relegated to those Sunday afternoons immersed in a fantasy book.

Some of us are aching for the mystical, we feel orphaned in a world stripped of enchantment. Our soul, reaching beyond the boundaries of the material world, is looking for a doorway into the magical world.

I notice it in spiritual circles. Mythical creatures fill the archetypal landscape of the work of many healers, psychics and dreamers alike. I think the fantasy genre speaks to a part of us that naturally walks between dimensions, that knows dragons are not fiction and witches are still around.

This ache is not universal though.

In Mexico, where I have spent many years studying and working, I observed that people do not go searching for the sacred in a novel. The supernatural is part of everyday life. The spirits of the land are as tangible as the taste of freshly baked tortillas and the scent of copal smoke. Humans are aware that they are but a small part of the mystery. The same happens in other traditions still living close to their ancestral ways. Magic never had to become fiction there, because it never stopped being part of daily life.

The good news is that magic is never truly lost. The witch in us still lives under the surface of things.

She cannot be silenced. She's in the folds of our psyche and in the high branches of the tree across the street, hidden in plain sight. The moment we invite her back into our lives, she comes rushing in, filling our kitchens with moss and sprites and all things truly alive.

In this day and age when many of us are searching for our ancestral origins through DNA tests, some of us are also looking for our magical roots. We scan the bloodlines meticulously for signs, any sign that would reveal a healer in our midst, a medicine person or a seer. Why do you think that is? Because it's trendy to be a shaman? Or because we're aching for magic and wonder?

Dear fellow witch, fellow dreamer. Those fairy tales are your story too, the magic is part of your heritage and found in the pulse of the land beneath your feet.

You know it's there, and I know it too, I have seen it in your eyes, in the spark when you meet your dragon, or when you watch the sunset over a sacred site and the atmosphere is heavy with the supernatural.

So put the book down and come out, wear your invisible cloak of moss and sprites and fill your days with magic once again.

And on that thought, here is an invitation.

This autumn for Samhain I am leading a week-long retreat in the heart of the Findhorn community in Scotland.

It is called Write Your Myth, and it is a writing retreat with a strong shamanic streak. We will be indulging in automatic writing, shamanic journeying, walks in nature.

There will be dreamwork, play, deep listening and you will be guided to write your own mythology.

Looking at the narrative of your life, you will stitch together the magic and the mundane, activating the spark in you, giving voice to the deepest yearnings of your heart.

There will be ritual at Samhain, when the veil thins and the ordinary loosens its grip. There will be a safe healing space at the soul retrieval ceremony, and long shamanic journeys to nurture your soulscape. There will be celebration and a restful pace. Walks through woodland, river and sea, beneath a great deal of Scottish sky. All of this and more, held within the sacred energy of Findhorn. 

Write Your Myth is not about producing a memoir or writing the latest bestseller (unless that’s what you’re working on). It is about inviting the witch into the room, and let her loose on the page. 

Just bring a notebook and pen and we'll take care of the rest. Filippo is coming too.

W is for Witch, and for Write Your Myth.

It's a small group experience, with very limited spots, so get in touch soon to learn more.

Write Your Myth, 28 October to 3 November, Findhorn.

Inquire and register your interest here