What makes a witch a witch?

It’s an interesting question, isn’t it? One that’s been asked by many over the past few decades, as we’ve begun to see this exponential rise in contemporary witchcraft.

And while many people certainly have their own answers to this question (some more compelling than others), what’s truly fascinating is that there really is no answer at all—not in any comprehensive way, at least.

There is no one single thing that makes a witch a witch, largely because it is based on a highly individual way of being. There is no one component, no particular practice or belief that distinguishes witches from non-witches.

Just like Paganism is a broad umbrella term for a variety of spiritual beliefs, practices, and behaviours, so too is witchcraft.

I myself have been practicing witchcraft for over a year now, and ever since then, this question has been on my mind. Not only what makes a witch a witch in a general sense, but what makes me a witch? What does it mean for me as a (mostly) scientific pantheist, as an academic, and as a generally rationally-minded individual, to practice witchcraft?

Essentially, what does it mean for me, as a self-professed skeptic, to consider myself a witch?

Witchcraft is undeniably becoming increasingly popular in our society, to the point where it’s now almost somewhat mainstream. And while on the one hand, this does create a sense of unfortunate homogenization within the wider community (think of all those witchy Instagram aesthetics and poorly written books that all spout the same basic stuff), on the other hand, more people practicing the craft means more people coming at it in their own unique ways, putting their own flavour into it, developing their own personal systems of belief and interpretation.

Witchcraft and Paganism, like a lot of modern alternative forms of spirituality, are very much about figuring out what works for you. They are experienced based, rather than built on scripture or dogma, and therefore often highly unique to the practitioner.

Of course, there will always be those people that try to tell you that there’s a right or wrong way to do witchcraft—that if it’s not “traditional” enough then it doesn’t count as the real thing. Even worse are those who go around claiming that witches must be born, rather than made, and if you don’t come from a long history of the craft, then you can’t be a “real” witch.

Bullshit.

I mean, these people are entitled to their opinions, but I think that’s all ridiculous. No one should have the right to say that there is a “correct” or “incorrect” way of practicing the craft. Moreover, anyone can be a witch, regardless of whatever untraditional approaches they might take, or their family lineage.

So, what is witchcraft then?

Witchcraft: A Loose Definition

Witchcraft, while often associated with Paganism, is distinct from it in that it is a practice, whereas Paganism is a religion. Not all Pagans practice witchcraft, and not all witches are Pagan, though contemporary witchcraft is predominantly Pagan witchcraft. Moreover, though witchcraft is often conflated with Wicca, a particular strand of Paganism that combines magical practices with the honouring of the God and Goddess, these two concepts are also distinct, and not all practitioners of witchcraft identify as Wiccans.

In her seminal text Drawing Down the Moon, Margot Adler notes that that term “witch” likely derives from the Indo-European root “wic” or “weik,” meaning to bend or turn. As such, “a Witch would have been a woman (or man) skilled in the craft of shaping, bending, and changing reality.”

For most practitioners of Western witchcraft, magic does not have anything to do with the supernatural, for it is a fundamentally natural phenomenon that derives from an understanding of psychological and environmental processes, and knowing how to implement emotion and concentration in order to bring about desired changes. Many practices within witchcraft are based on exploring and strengthening connections with the “otherworld”—a spiritual domain that co-exists with ordinary reality, intertwining with it in mysterious and at times, powerfully effective ways.

Magick: An Even Looser Definition

The performance of magic (or magick) is also typically associated with witchcraft. While there are many definitions of what magick is and what it means to practice it, it can generally be understood as a technique where the mind is focused on a particular goal, and subsequently projected out onto the world in order to materialize that goal.

Modern witchcraft and magic encompass a wide variety of behaviours and beliefs. While for some, it may be primarily about high magic and elaborate rituals, evoking images of robed figures gathered together in candle-lit rooms chanting Latin incantations, for others, it can be about something as simple as the way they make a cup of tea, or the intentions they set at the beginning of the day.

An important part of what magick and witchcraft are for me is based on Susan Greenwood’s concept of magical consciousness—the intuited and embodied expansion of mind that fosters and awareness of the interconnected nature of all things. Here, connections between this world and the otherworld become apparent, as this mode of thought brings about a divine sense of cosmological oneness.

From this perspective of magical consciousness, mind is immanent within the environment, and there is no ultimate separation between self and nature—everything is interconnected, and we are connected to everything.

Magick, then, becomes largely about being aware of these deeply rooted connections that give rise to reality, and about finding ways to explore these relationships in a more profound manner.

The Reality of Magick

To those who operate outside of the boundaries of magick, the non-believers (or “muggles” as some of us refer to them as), the notion of witchcraft may sound absolutely ridiculous, or even somewhat psychotic. Often, people who claim that they can cast spells or communicate with spirits are taken to be either serious liars or seriously deluded, and as such are labeled as “weird” or “abnormal.” And while societal perceptions of witchcraft and alternative spirituality are slowly changing, the practices becoming increasingly normalized, there are still plenty of people I know who would be shocked (and probably pretty appalled) if they knew the kinds of things I was doing behind closed doors with crystals and candles.

Even just a few years ago, I too would have been pretty weirded out to know that I’d eventually start practicing witchcraft. On the surface, it just seems so incompatible with a scientific understanding of the world. It seems so… irrational.

I have been both an insider and an outsider when it comes to magick and witchcraft. I have practiced it, and studied it from an academic perspective, and each of these approaches has taught me that in order to truly understand what magic is and what it means to those who practice it, we have to come at it from a perspective that is willing to look past the apparent boundaries of reason—to go beyond rationalism.

Anthropologist Bruce Kapferer notes that because magic challenges preconceived notion of reality and operates at the boundaries of understanding, it creates a liminal space where different levels of meaning can be fused together and torn apart, giving us a completely different way of understanding the world.

As he puts it, magic operates within its own reality, with its own framework of logic, and while it can certainly have some bearing on notions of reason and rationality, its potential (and our potential to understand it) is “much greater when released from the prison of reason.

Simply put: magic can’t and shouldn’t be understood within a scientific rationalist framework, because this limits its power and dilutes what it’s actually about.

Skeptical Witchcraft

As someone who at once values logic and reason, but also really enjoys engaging in certain magical and occult practices, I personally find it helpful to think of witchcraft and magick as operating within their own realities that, while distinct, are not completely separate from one another. These two frameworks for me don’t clash with one another as one might assume, but rather overlap with and compliment each other.

I’m not what you would call a hard and fast believer in the literal power of witchcraft, or the existence of magic—at least, not in the way that many practitioners understand it. Generally speaking, I use witchcraft as a catalyst for transformation that is usually more internal than external, more personal than happening “out there.”

Typically, my approach to the craft favours the psychological model of magick, which in itself can be considered a form of “skeptical witchcraft.” From the psychological perspective, any changes brought about through magical means are internal changes, such as tapping into the unconscious in order to uncover hidden motivations, desires, beliefs, and bringing this deeper aspect of the mind to the forefront in order to incite genuine personal transformation.

So, for instance, if I do a spell to manifest a new job, it’s not necessarily that I’m hoping to actually influence some guy in an office building miles away to pick up my resume and decide that I’m the one he wants. From a psychological standpoint, it’s more about causing some internal shift that will help me land the position—perhaps in the form of a confidence boost, or a surge of motivation to help me crystalize and work towards what I really want.

A lot of my witchcraft is about practicing being open—opening myself up to new opportunities, to new ways of perceiving my reality, and to receive whatever the Universe has to offer me.

That being said, my belief (or lack thereof) in the power of witchcraft and magick isn’t static or unchanging. While on one level, I do believe that it is psychological in nature, on another level (particularly when I’m actually immersed in the process of magick, or doing my witchy things), I wholeheartedly believe in the reality of the spell and its power to change my situation in ways that go beyond transformations of the unconscious.

You could call this suspended disbelief, or altogether a shift in worldviews.

As I wrote in my two-part series on spiritual/magical belief, belief is fluid, mutable, and often many layered, able to change and adapt depending on context.

So yeah, sometimes I totally do genuinely believe in the reality of witchcraft and magic. Sometimes I really do believe that the power of my spell could make some HR person pick up my resume, and think “yeah, she’s the one.”

Sometimes it is actually that real for me.

What makes it possible for me to practice witchcraft not only from a psychological perspective, but also with this genuine belief in the real power of my own magic, and the magic of the world around me is this recognition that witchcraft and magick operate in a different framework of reality from what most of us are used to in our daily lives. Not only that, but also understanding that it is totally possible for these frameworks to overlap with and even flow into one another make it so that there is no longer such a disconnect between being rational and intellectual on the one hand, and all spiritual and witchy on the other.

Essentially, it’s totally possible to hold a scientific, rational worldview in tandem with a magical one, because they don’t have to be mutually exclusive.

One can be both a complete skeptic and a genuine believer.

Redefining the Witch Label

If you are in fact what we’d call a “skeptic” when it comes to the magical and the occult, making the idea of witchcraft work for you can also be very much about redefining the term, and figuring out what being a witch means to you.

Not into the idea of spells and incantations, but still find yourself attracted to something about contemporary witchcraft? That’s cool—just figure out what it is you feel drawn to, what excites you about it, and start there in constructing your own definition of the craft.

For quite a while, even though I’d technically been practicing a form of witchcraft for some time, I resisted the label of “witch” because of its non-rational implications, and the cognitive dissonance I felt between myself as a scientifically-minded person, and as someone who practices magick.

Plus, as someone who doesn’t always completely believe in the reality of magick, I felt like a fraud calling myself a witch. To be skeptical about the very practices I was engaging in felt like a form of appropriation in a sense—who was I to be using these traditions and rituals when I didn’t accept their reality in the way that most “real” witches do?

And while I am sure that there are those within the wider witchcraft community who certainly would say that yes, I am a fraud, and no, I should definitely not be calling myself a witch, to that, I’ve kind of just learned to say fuck it.”

Because like I mentioned before, there is no overarching definition of witchcraft, no one thing (and certainly no one person or group) that can grant you the title of witch.

Sure, there are plenty of ideas out there on the subject, many general definitions, and long lists of various traits and behaviours that lots of witches identify with. But ultimately when it comes down to it, only you get to decide what witchcraft means to you, and what it means for you personally to take on this particular identity.

If that means dressing in dark robes and stirring herbs into a smoking cauldron while reading from dusty tombs, then great. If it means smoking a blunt while painting a picture buck-ass naked under the light of the full moon, also great!

You do you, because your witchcraft is your own, whatever that looks like.

My Own Witchcraft

My own brand of witchcraft has always had a lot to do with personal agency, empowerment, and connection.

Throughout my teenage years and much of my adult life, I struggled with self-doubt and feelings of worthlessness. Often allowing myself to be objectified and disregarded, I sometimes felt as though I was only valued if I looked pretty and kept my mouth shut. Plagued by insecurities and feelings of inferiority, and shy to the point where I would struggle to find my voice, I was afraid to speak up, worried that no one would really want to listen to anything I had to say.

I really got into the practice of witchcraft during a particularly turbulent time in my life, where I was experiencing an especially intense sense of loss of control. I felt directionless, disoriented, as part of my identity seemed to be pulled away from me, leaving me completely vulnerable with nothing to distract me from myself… from my raw truth.

It was witchcraft that returned some of my own power to me. Practicing the craft, and using elements of magic, the occult, and nature-based spirituality helped me regain not only a sense of personal authority, but a sense of self that I had long ago lost.

It helped me understand that while there is a lot in life that I can’t control, there is also a lot that I can.

In many ways, I am free to take charge of my own life, make my own decisions, and determine my own fate.

Witchcraft helped me find my voice again, and reminded me how to use it.

It showed me in a very real way that I am not merely at the mercy of forces beyond my control, or an object waiting for someone to come along and place me into labeled boxes. It helped me recognize that I cannot be held down by the will of others, contained by their ideas of me, or their ideas of what I should be.

Through witchcraft, I found a new form of self-expression, self-discovery, and transformation. Through witchcraft, I found my agency.

It was around then that I actually began calling myself a witch.

To Be a Witch

The term “witch,” like “Pagan” or “magick” means many different things to many different people. For some, it is inextricably tied to spiritual or religious practice, while for others, it is entirely secular. While overtime, I’ve come to develop my own working idea of what it means for me to be a witch, keep in mind that my own definition does not need to conform to anyone else’s, and what’s true for me doesn’t have to be true for everyone.

For me, being a witch has relatively little to do with casting spells, harvesting herbs, or owning tarot decks and crystals. Though these elements can certainly be part of it, they don’t necessarily reflect the essence of what “witchiness” is for me.

For me, to be a witch means that I acknowledge my own personal strength, agency, and willpower. It means realizing that in every moment, I have a choice to make, and it is up to no one but myself to choose the path that I take. It means knowing that I am empowered to be who I want to be, and to live the life that I want to live.

To be a witch means that I am not afraid to truly know myself, in both light and shadow. It means exploring the dark corners of my own psyche, for everything in this world is made up of contrasting patterns of shadow and light, and we must embrace both if we hope to be complete beings with genuine transformative power.

Because being a witch is also very much about transformation—first within, and then without, for as we change, so too does the world. To be a witch means to have the strength to release that which no longer serves me, and to take the steps necessary (however difficult) to make my dreams into reality.

To be a witch is also to embrace and cherish the feminine (a quality that exists within all of us, regardless of gender), and to be part of a united sisterhood. It means moving away from outdated patriarchal systems of thought and governance to celebrate the agency, power, and value that we have as women.

To be a witch is to let go of the shame and anxiety surrounding my body, my womanhood, and to refuse to be made to feel “less than” because of my gender. It is to refuse to conform to societal standards or expectations, and to stand in solidarity with other women to show them that they too, are valued.

To be a witch is to write my own version of a feminist manifesto as I meditate under the light of the moon, or dance wildly around an altar.

Being a witch means to listen to what nature has to teach us, to be a pupil the schoolhouse of rolling landscapes and lush forests. It means to recognize the deep, underlying connections that exist between everything, and to be able to set aside the ego in order to feel the fundamentally extended and interconnected nature of the self.

As a witch, I am powerful and I am strong. I am whole, yet ever-changing, refusing to be held-down by definitions, or tired notions of “should be.” I am feminine, and unashamed. I am valued, and I am worthy. I am the embodiment of darkness, light, and oh so many vibrant colours. I am alive, and I am connected. I am not only a part of this universe, but an integral expression of it, and what it is doing at any given moment.

My own idea of what it means to be a witch makes room for both skepticism and genuine belief, because both of these things are integral parts of my own practice, just as they are important parts of who I am.

For the Skeptical Seekers

Witchcraft, as well as Paganism and alternative spirituality in general, encompass a multitude of behaviours, practices, and ways of knowing for me, many of which also involve these shifting belief systems.

So, going forward I’ve finally decided to start writing a little series that I’ve been planning for a while now that explores how these elements actually become meaningful for me, as someone who doesn’t always believe in the literal existence of magic.

Some of these things that I hope to look into include:

  • Spellcraft
  • Crystals
  • Tarot/oracle cards
  • Synchronicities
  • The Law of Attraction
  • Representations of the sacred
  • Cycles of the moon
  • Ritual
  • Mind-altering substances

Basically, I’m hoping to examine how I use these things in my spiritual practice (and daily life sometimes), what they mean to me as both a seeker and a skeptic, and how others, believers and non-believers alike, might look at them from new perspectives, and potentially find them even more spiritually enriching than they may have previously thought.

So, if you found this post at all interesting, keep an eye out for upcoming additions to the “Skeptical Witchcraft” series, and thanks for reading! As always, if you found you identified with this in any way (or if you completely disagree with everything I’ve said), I would love to read your comments!

References

Adler, Margot. 1979. Drawing Down the Moon. Boston: Beacon Press.

Greenwood, Susan. 2005. The Nature of Magic: An Anthropology of Consciousness. Oxford: BERG.

Kapferer, Bruce. 2002. Outside all reason: Magic, sorcery and epistemology in anthropology. In Beyond Rationalism: Rethinking Magic, Witchcraft and Sorcery (ed.) B. Kapferer, 1-30. New York: Berghahn Books.