This is a very speedy Pagan friday as I have to leave in fifteen minutes- therefore please excuse the horrible spelling mistakes and typos that will no doubt be littered through this post.
I want to talk (briefly) about my initiation this week, I’m a solitary Pagan and always have been- I think that if I’d have had the choice I would’ve eventually chosen to follow this path too, but when I first started it was just out of necessity.
I started out studying Wicca, I’d been Paganly inclined for a couple of years before finding a Wiccan book of spells the in the school library (yeah, I don’t know how it got there either…) I felt massively drawn to Witchcraft in general and found out everything I knew before doing a rough dedication with the intention to initiate in a couple of months when I knew more and felt ready.
It took me a year and a bit to feel ready, and I’m glad that it did- in that year I learnt more about myself and the world around me than I ever thought I would, I went to hell and back with abuse, bullying, suicide, self harm and crippling depression. I stared death in the face and walked away- and all the time whilst studying this new faith, delving into magick and the craft.
In that one year my faith in the Gods (which I had always had, it’d just taken finding the book on Wicca to make me start researching and putting names to the faces that had been guiding me for so long.) and in everything around me was tested to breaking point. I was very much thrown in at the deep end and to this day I believe that I survived because of my faith.
I decided to self initiate at the end of that year. I rounded the year along to Imbolc- the festival of Brighid, my patroness- and read up on initiation rituals and the like. I can look back on the Imbolc of that year and safely say that it was an incredible evening, I walked away from that ritual feeling ready to walk the path of my faith.
But that ritual was about more than my faith- it was about marking the end of a period of turmoil and chaos and the start of the rest of my life, I knew standing there that the worst bits were over and that I know had to prepare myself for spending the rest of my life coping with them. I walked away from there a Witch, a Priestess and a woman. I grew up a lot that night.
I strongly hold onto the belief that you never stop growing and learning in Paganism, I feel even now that I have hundreds more things to learn- but that doesn’t worry me, I have a secure knowledge base that comes from years of reading- and years of living. I’ve had a lot of life experience that others haven’t and I know that I have to utilise that in my craft.
Fast forward to today and I’ve found my spiritual home in Druidry, even though I still consider myself a Witch.
My entry into Wicca came as a difficult time- I don’t believe that the Gods got me through that, I believe that they gave me the strength to get myself through that.