this epic life

In the past week or so my path has crossed with a preponderance of my old covenmates. This is saying a lot, because as far as covens go, I’m a bit Elizabeth Taylorish, she of the many famous husbands. I’ve been in three, and all have been stellar. After the coven Compost, out of which Reclaiming sprang, these three covens have probably been the most influential in the shaping of my fledgling “tradition” of the Craft, which is actually also in its infancy, despite our pretension of being “the old religion”.

Being part of the first generation of modern witches, I’ve had no elders to lean on or tell me their experience, and for all of us, this has been an ongoing experiment, with no time to sit back together and go over the results. Recently, there was a gathering called Dandelion in which Reclaiming witches got together to envision where Reclaiming is going. I found myself not interested in attending, for a variety of reasons, one which is that I’m in a phase of reviewing where I’ve been and that means not jumping into envisioning or trying to shape the future. About the only thing right now that would interest me Reclaiming wise was if we could get together a group of Reclaiming “elders” and just talk…a difficult task, as so many aren’t speaking to each other. Maybe that’s why it feels so appealing. I’d love us to just talk, without trying to fix anything, or come up with something new, or envision something. Just talk.

I feel such gratitude for my past, for the timing of my life. I was lucky enough to be of the generation that did consciousness raising groups, where groups of women came together to tell and examine the truth of their lives. I can still remember clearly the faces and voices of some of the women (a few still friends) as they spoke about obtaining abortions when they were illegal and voiced for the first time about being sexually abused. The power of individuals coming together and talking changed my life, and being in a coven, well, that took it another step further. In a culture of disconnection, the commitment to meet regularly and talk is in itself an antidote to alienation. Add doing magic and ritual to that, well, that’s the kind of medicine that can both hurt and heal. It’s potent. The strength of feeling for each other becomes strong, in both its shadow and light.

Matrix was Reclaiming’s first coven that combined magic with political activism. The Wind Hags existed for years, an all woman coven that almost made it the length of the Reclaiming collective. Did we really meet once a week? Could that have been possible? When Wind Hags broke-up I found myself in a new coven, the Triskets, Reclaiming’s first Feri coven, which now apparently is considered its own line of Feri. If someone in the future writes a Reclaiming version of Mary Greer’s Women of the Golden Dawn the characters from all these covens will be front and center, and our relationships just as rich with drama and cautionary tales.

Starhawk, Thorn, and Anne Hill have assured their place in Wiccan history by virtue of the printed word, yet in coven and community we have all been ensemble players, each playing a vital role. Would Reclaiming be the same without Rose May Dance, or Rocky?

Outside my covens, there are of course are others who were fundamental in the creation of Reclaiming – Macha, Raven, Cybele, and Robin Gaul (who I think was in Matrix before me and by marriage to my coven sister Rocky always felt like part of the male auxiliary of Wind Hags) to name a few - all played parts as well. But, one thing I came to learn in Reclaiming is that it is not only individuals who have different levels of power in communities, even communities wedded to non-hierarchy, but covens do as well. Covens are hard to form and to sustain. An established coven has enormous influence in a magical community. The sum becomes much more than it’s parts. I’ve made some amends to people because of how I behaved as a part of being in Triskets, my guess is there are those who’d love to hear some amends made because of Wind Hags and Matrix. All these covens certainly gave to their community, but I know we threw our weight around as well and I'm sure bruised more than a few.

Seeing my old coven sisters this week, or picking up the phone to hear yet another one of their voices, I thought about why so many religions use the moniker of sister and brother. Many of my coven sisters and brothers are no longer close friends, those I turn to for support, socialize with, or share my thoughts and feelings with. But all are still family. We share history, and the bonds of being between the worlds together on such a regular basis have turned out to be as primal as the bonds of blood. Way back when I joined my first coven, I had no idea that this would turn out to be the case, no sense of the depth of the connection I was forging.

Why in these past weeks have so many of these bonds tugged? Whatever the reason, I’ve found myself reminiscing this week, pulling up memories, joyous and hard, from my years in these covens. In writing this, I’ve kept thinking of Margaret Meade’s quote;

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.

Matrix set out to do exactly that, to change the world. Oh, the magic we did! Much of it remains a blur, but I remember traveling far out and into the very construction of reality and trying to tweak it, communicating with John Dee, looking for magical clues in the Velazquez painting Las Meninas, and eventually getting overwhelmed with just how true it is that everything is connected to everything else. If any of my old covenmates kept a cogent journal of our travels, it would make a good companion piece to The DeVinci Code, but all between the worlds. Perhaps another unwritten tome is in order, Everything I Know, I Learned in Coven. From Matrix I learned many things, including that it is fundamentally impossible for anyone to truly see the big picture in all its complexity, and that no small group should get invested in being THE ONE that changes the world. What I’ve learned from Matrix, the Wind Hags, and the Triskets, could truly fill a book, and the stories would make a good mini-series. The world that got changed was my world, my life. Small groups do this.

Way back when, I entered into marriage and covenship with such faith, and such an open heart, with no possible idea or conception of what exactly these commitments would entail, of how powerful they would be in shaping my life. Out of both now, I look back and marvel at my youthful naiveté, and most of all, feel a swell of gratitude and tenderness for the lessons I’m learning in this lifetime, and the incredible cast of characters that have played roles in this epic life. Like family, even when you leave home, I’ve carried these relationships around in both head, heart and gut. I’m glad for the synchronicity of the past few weeks, the way these relationships have tugged at my consciousness. What a story, what a life! Time for a little repose. It’s needed.