The song is carried forth on waves that become spheres. The waves are the waves of o.r.g.a.s.m, light waves, ocean waves, pulsating electrons, waves of sound. The waves form spheres as swirling gases form stars. It is a basic insight of Witchcraft that energy, whether physical, psychic, or emotional, moves in waves, in cycles that are themselves spirals. (An easy way to visualize this is to borrow a child's "Slinky" toy-a coiling spiral of very thin metal. When stretched and viewed from the side, the spirals appear very clearly as wave forms.) The G.o.ddess swells with love and gives birth to a rain of bright spirits, a rain that awakens consciousness in the world as moisture awakens green growth on earth. The rain is the fructifying menstrual blood, the moon's blood that nourishes life, as well as the bursting waters that herald birth, the ecstatic giving forth of life.

The motion, the vibration, becomes so great that Miria is swept away. As She moves farther from the point of union, She becomes more polarized, more differentiated, more male. The G.o.ddess has projected Herself; her projected Self becomes the Other, her opposite, who eternally yearns for reunion. Differentness awakens desire, which pulls against the centrifugal force of projection. The energy field of the cosmos becomes polarized; it becomes a conductor of forces exerted in opposite directions.

The view of the All as an energy field polarized by two great forces, Female and Male, G.o.ddess and G.o.d, which in their ultimate being are aspects of each other, is common to almost all traditions of the Craft.** The Dianic tradition, however, while recognizing the Male Principle, accords it much less importance than the Female.

Some modern, self-created traditions, especially those stemming from a feminist-separatist political orientation, do not recognize the Male at all. If they work with polarity, they visualize both forces as contained within the female. This is a line of experimentation that has great value for many women, particularly as an antidote to thousands of years of Western culture's exclusive concentration on the Male. However, it has never been the mainstream view of the Craft. I personally feel that, in the long run, a female-only model of the universe would prove to be as constricting and oppressive, to women as well as men, as the patriarchal model has been. One of the tasks of religion is to guide us in relationship to both that which is like ourselves, and that which is unlike ourselves. s.e.x is the most basic of differences; we cannot become whole by pretending difference does not exist, or by denying either male or female.

It is important, however, to separate the concept of polarity from our culturally conditioned images of male and female. The Male and Female forces represent difference, yet they are not different, in essence: They are the same force flowing in opposite, but not opposed, directions.** The Chinese concept of Yin and Yang is somewhat similar, but in Witchcraft the description of the forces is very different. Neither is "active" or "pa.s.sive," dark or light, dry or moist-instead, each partakes of all those qualities. The Female is seen as the life-giving force, the power of manifestation, of energy flowing into the world to become form. The Male is seen as the death force, in a positive, not a negative sense: the force of limitation that is the necessary balance to unbridled creation, the force of dissolution, of return to formlessness. Each principle contains the other: Life breeds death, feeds on death; death sustains life, makes possible evolution and new creation. They are part of a cycle, each dependent on the other.

Existence is sustained by the on-off pulse, the alternating current of the two forces in perfect balance.

Unchecked, the life force is cancer; unbridled, the death force is war and genocide. Together, they hold each other in the harmony that sustains life, in the perfect orbit that can be seen in the changing cycle of the seasons, in the ecological balance of the natural world, and in the progression of human life from birth through fulfillment to decline and death-and then to rebirth.

Death is not an end; it is a stage in the cycle that leads on to rebirth. After death, the human soul is said to rest in "Summerland," the Land of Eternal Youth, where it is refreshed, grows young, and is made ready to be born again. Rebirth is not considered to be condemnation to an endless, dreary round of suffering, as in some Eastern religions. Instead, it is seen as the great gift of the G.o.ddess, who is manifest in the physical world. Life and the world are not separate from G.o.dhead; they are immanent divinity.

Witchcraft does not maintain, like the First Truth of Buddhism, that "All life is suffering." On the contrary, life is a thing of wonder. The Buddha is said to have gained this insight after his encounter with old age, disease, and death. In the Craft, old age is a natural and highly valued part of the cycle of life, the time of greatest wisdom and understanding. Disease, of course, causes misery, but it is not something to be inevitably suffered: The practice of the Craft was always connected with the healing arts, with herbalism and midwifery. Nor is death fearful: It is simply the dissolution of the physical form that allows the spirit to prepare for a new life. Suffering certainly exists in life-it is a part of learning. But escape from the Wheel of Birth and Death is not the optimal cure, any more than hara-kiri is the best cure for menstrual cramps. When suffering is the result of the social order or human injustice, the Craft encourages active work to relieve it. Where suffering is a natural part of the cycle of birth and decay, it is relieved by understanding and acceptance, by a willing giving-over to both the dark and the light in turn.

The polarity of the Female and Male Principles should not be taken as a general pattern for individual female and human beings. We each contain both principles; we are female and male both.** To be whole is to be in touch with both forces-creation and dissolution, growth and limitation. The energy created by the push-pull of forces flows within each of us. It can be tapped individually in rituals or meditations, and it can be attuned to resonate with others. s.e.x, for instance, is far more than a physical act; it is a polarized flow of power between two people.

The Male Principle is first seen as a nearly androgynous figure: the Child, the flute-playing Blue G.o.d of love.**

His image is connected with that of the personal Blue G.o.d, the Deep Self, which is also androgynous. Gentle youth, beloved son, He is never sacrificed.

The Green aspect is the vegetation G.o.d-the corn spirit, the grain that is cut and then replanted; the seed that dies with every harvest and is eternally reborn each spring.

The Horned G.o.d, the most "male" in the conventional sense, of the G.o.ddess's projections, is the eternal Hunter, and also the animal who is hunted. He is the beast who is sacrificed that human life may go on, as well as the sacrificer, the one who sheds blood. He is also seen as the sun, eternally hunting the moon across the sky. The waxing and waning of the sun throughout the seasons manifest the cycle of birth and death, creation and dissolution, separation and return.

G.o.ddess and G.o.d, Female and Male, Moon and Sun, Birth and Death swing in their orbits-eternal, yet ever changing. Polarity, the force that holds the cosmos together, is love, erotic, transcendent, and individual.

Creation did not happen once in a fixed point in time; it goes on eternally, occurring in each moment, revealed in the cycle of the year: The Wheel of the Year.

In love, the Horned G.o.d, changing form and changing face, ever seeks the G.o.ddess. In this world, the search and the seeking appear in the Wheel of the Year.

She is the Great Mother who gives birth to Him as the Divine Child Sun at the Winter Solstice. In spring, He is sower and seed who grows with the growing light, green as the new shoots. She is the Initiatrix who teaches Him the mysteries. He is the young bull; She the nymph, seductress. In summer, when light is longest, they meet in union, and the strength of their pa.s.sion sustains the world. But the G.o.d's face darkens as the sun grows weaker, until at last, when the grain is cut for harvest, He too sacrifices Himself to Self that all may be nourished. She is the reaper, the grave of earth to which all must return. Throughout the long nights and darkening days, He sleeps in her womb; in dreams, He is Lord of Death who rules the Land of Youth beyond the gates of night and day.

His dark tomb becomes the womb of rebirth, for at Midwinter She again gives birth to Him. The cycle ends and begins again, and the Wheel of the Year turns, on and on.

The rituals of the eight solar holidays, the Sabbats, are derived from the myth of the Wheel of the Year. The G.o.ddess reveals her threefold aspects: As Maiden, She is the virgin patroness of birth and initiation; as Nymph, She is the s.e.xual temptress, lover, siren, seductress; as Crone, She is the dark face of life, which demands death and sacrifice. The G.o.d is son, brother, lover, who becomes his own father: the eternal sacrifice eternally reborn into new life.

Sir James Frazer, in The Golden Bough, traces many variations of this myth. Most, like the version expounded by Robert Graves in The White G.o.ddess, present the G.o.d as split into rival Twins embodying his two aspects.

The Star Son, Lord of the Waxing Year, vies with his brother the Serpent for the love of the G.o.ddess. On the Summer Solstice, they battle, and the Dark Serpent defeats the Light and supplants Him in the G.o.ddess's favor, only to be Himself defeated at Midwinter, when the Waxing year is reborn.

This variation is not, in essence, different: from the variation we have presented, as long as the Dark and Light Twins are clearly understood to be aspects of the same divinity. But when we see the G.o.d as split, we run the risk of suffering a split within ourselves: of identifying totally with the Light and ascribing the Dark to an agent of evil. Star Son and Serpent too easily become Christ-Satan figures. In Witchcraft, the dark,, waning aspect of the G.o.d is not evil-it is a vital part of the natural cycle.

The essential teaching of the myth is connected with the concept of sacrifice. To Witches, as to other peoples who live close to nature, all things- plants, animals, stones, and stars-are alive, are on some level conscious beings. All things are divine, are manifestations of the G.o.ddess. The death of the grain in the harvest, or the death of a deer in the hunt, was considered a divine sacrifice, freely made out of love. Ritualistic and mythical identification with the sacrificing G.o.d honors the life spark, even in death, and prepares us to give way gracefully to new life, when the time comes for each of us to die. Waxing and waning, birth and death, take place within the human psyche and life cycle. Each is to be welcomed in its proper time and season, because life is a process of constant change.

The G.o.d chooses to sacrifice in order to. remain within the orbit of the G.o.ddess, within the cycle of the natural world, and within the ecstatic, primal union that creates the world. Were He to cling to any point on the wheel and refuse to give way to change, the cycle would stop; He would fall out of orbit and lose all. Harmony would be destroyed; union would be broken. He would not be preserving Himself; He would be denying his true self, his deepest pa.s.sion, his very nature.

It is vitally important not to confuse this conception of sacrifice with the m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.tic self-sacrifice that is so often preached as the ideal by patriarchal religions. In the Craft, the sacrifice of one's nature or individuality is never demanded. Instead, one sacrifices to nature. There is no conflict, in Witchcraft, between the spiritual and the material; we do not have to give up one to gain the other. The spirit manifests in matter: The G.o.ddess is seen as giving us abundance. But the most abundant summer is followed by winter, as the longest day ends in night.

Only when one gives way to the other can life go on.

In Witchcraft, sacrifice is most definitely not the submission to external power held by another person or inst.i.tution. Nor does it mean giving up one's will or self-respect. Its emotional tone is not self-pity, but pride: it is the sacrifice of Mettus Curtius, who, when told by the augurs that the bottomless crack that had suddenly opened in the Forum was a sign that the G.o.ds demanded the sacrifice of Rome's finest, unhesitatingly leapt into the chasm on horseback, fully armed. He had not a moment's doubt as to his own self-worth; he knew what "Rome's finest" must be, and acted accordingly, out of an inner sense of what was right.

Witchcraft does not demand poverty, chast.i.ty, or obedience, but it is not a "looking out for Number One"

philosophy, either. It developed in a close-knit clan society, where resources were shared and land held in common. "Charity" was an unknown concept, because sharing was an integral part of society, a basic expectation. "Number One" existed only within the fabric of society and within the web of all life. Witchcraft recognizes that we are all interdependent, and even the most avid member of the "me generation" must ultimately serve the life force, if only as compost.**

The sacrifice of the G.o.d was represented in human society by the "Sacred King" or priest, who served as consort to the High Priestess, religious leader, and at times, war leader for the clan. Since Frazer compiled The Golden Bough, his cla.s.sic work of folklore and anthropology first published in 1900, writers on the subject of "primitive" religions, especially those oriented toward a G.o.ddess, have generally accepted his thesis that human sacrifice was a vital and regular inst.i.tution in matrifocal culture. Even well-meaning, sensitive, and thinking men-including Robert Graves,* who has probably been the greatest force for revival of interest in the G.o.ddess in this century-perpetuate the myths. Joseph Campbell, author of the fine series The Masks of G.o.d, goes so far as to say that "human sacrifice ... is everywhere characteristic of the worship of the G.o.ddess."

Craft tradition and archaeological evidence do not support this picture of G.o.ddess worship as b.l.o.o.d.y and barbaric. The many Paleolithic sites a.s.sociated with G.o.ddess figures-Laussel, Angles-Sur-Anglin, Cogul, La Magdaleine, Malta, to name just a few-show no evidence of human sacrifice. In the Neolithic, Catal Huyuk is one of the earliest (circa 6500-5700 BC) and most clearly matriarchal sites excavated. The many shrines decorated with figures of the Mother G.o.ddess and her son-paramour have no provisions for either human or animal sacrifice; no altars, no pits for blood, and no caches of bones. Nor do the G.o.ddess temples of Malta and Sardinia, the pa.s.sage graves and stone circles of the megalith builders, or the excavated sites of Crete show any evidence that human beings were ever ritually murdered. Where human sacrifice is clearly evident-for example, in the Royal Tombs of the Sumerian city Ur, where entire courts followed the king into death-it is a.s.sociated with cultures that have already made the shift to patriarchy.

Reconstructing culture from buried bones and artifacts is, of course, difficult; reconstruction from surviving folk customs, which Frazer often attempts, is just as liable to error. If peasants burn corn dollies in the harvest fire, it does not necessarily follow that they once burned living men. To Younger Self, a corn dollie is a perfectly effective symbol of the G.o.d's sacrifice; a live victim is not required.

Historical reports of matrifocal cultures most often come from their enemies and conquerors, who are likely to paint a negative picture of the religious customs of their foes. If our knowledge of medieval Judaism was limited to historical reports by Catholic Churchmen, we would be bound to conclude that the blood of Christians was needed to bake the ritual matzohs. Today we recognize this fiction for the libel that it was, but slurs against matrifocal religions have become deeply embedded in religion and mythology and are often hard to identify. For example, the Greek myth of Theseus and the Minotaur was believed to represent Cretan sacrifice of captives to their bull G.o.d. But frescoes excavated in the Palace of Minos reveal, instead, the practice of bull-leaping: no doubt a dangerous sport, but one that could hardly be called human sacrifice any more than its modern descendent, bullfighting.

In the Faery tradition, oral teachings say that in early times the Sacred King or Priest held office for nine years, after which he underwent a ritual mock death, abdicated, and joined the Council of Elders.** Ritual mock death may be the origin of many folk customs involving symbolic sacrifices. In times of great need or disaster, a king might, if his inner being prompted, sacrifice himself. The willingness to give over one's personal existence to serve the people was the true test of kingship, and this requirement lessened the attraction of power for corrupt and selfish individuals. Kingship was not originally an opportunity to make a killing in the bronze market or collect personal slaves; it was a ritual, mystical identification with the underlying forces of death and life.

Women were never sacrificed in Witchcraft. Women shed their own blood monthly and risk death in service to the life force with every pregnancy and birth. For this reason, their bodies were considered sacred, and held inviolate.

Unfortunately, newspapers, motion pictures, and television today continue to perpetuate the a.s.sociation of Witchcraft and G.o.ddess religion with horror and human sacrifice. Every Manson-like murderer is called a "witch," Outright psychopaths claim to be practicing Witchcraft with degraded rites, and may at times mislead gullible people into believing them. Witchcraft as a religion may not have a universal creed or set liturgy, but on some points there is unanimity. No true Witches today practice human sacrifice, torture, or any form of ritual murder. Anyone who does is not a Witch, but a psychopath.**

The world view of Witchcraft is, above all, one that values life. The cosmos is a polarized field of forces that are constantly in the process of swirling into form and dissolving back into pure energy. Polarity, which we call G.o.ddess and G.o.d, creates the cycle that underlies the movements of the stars and the changing of the seasons, the harmony of the natural world and the evolution within our human lives. We perceive the interplay of forces in two basic modes, the holistic, intuitive "starlight" mode of the right hemisphere and the unconscious; and the linear, a.n.a.lytic, conscious mode of the left hemisphere. Communication between conscious and unconscious, between Talking Self and Younger Self, and through the latter to the Deep Self, the spirit, depends on an openness to both modes of awareness. Verbal concepts must be translated into symbols and images; unconscious images must be brought to the light of consciousness. Through open communication, we can become attuned to the cycles of nature, to the primal, ecstatic union that is the force of creation. Attunement requires sacrifice, the willingness to change, to let go of any point on the Wheel and move on. But sacrifice is not suffering, and life in all its aspects, light and dark, growing and decaying, is a great gift. In a world where the endlessly transforming, erotic dance of G.o.d and G.o.ddess weaves radiant through all things, we who step to their rhythm are enraptured with the wonder and mystery of being.

CHAPTER 3. The Coven.

Between the Worlds.

NEW MOON.

"We met tonight in the rented storefront. For a long time, we just talked--about our fears and doubts about magic and ourselves: that it isn't real, that it is real, that it will stop, that it's an ego-trip, that we're crazy, that what we really want is power, that we'll lose our sense of humor and become pompous about it, that we won't be able to take it seriously, that it won't work, that it will work. . .

At one point, we all took hands, and started breathing together. Suddenly we realized that a circle had been cast.

We pa.s.sed around the oil, for anointing, and kissed. Someone began a low humming, and Pat started tapping out a rhythm on the drum. And we were all chanting, interweaving voices and melodies, as if different words were coming through each of us: Isis . . . Astarte . . . Ishtar.

Dawn and darkness . . . dawn and darkness . . .

Moo-oo-oon, Crescent Moo-oo-oon ... ; Pour out your light and your radiance upon us. . . .

Shine! Shine! Shine! Shine! Shine!

and through it and behind it all, Beth was wailing on her kazoo, and it sounded like some strange, Arabian oud, or a sobbing jazz saxophone, but we were smiling at the humor of it.

At the same moment, we all fell silent. Then we shared fruit, laughed, and talked about humor. We were dunking about a coven name, and someone suggested Compost. It was perfect! Earthy, organic, nurturing-and discouraging to self-inflation.

We are now the Compost coven!

The ritual worked. Whatever magic brings, it will not take away our ability to laugh at ourselves. And those fears grow less and less all the time."

From my Book of Shadows.

The coven is a Witch's support group, consciousness-raising group, psychic study center, clergy-training program, College of Mysteries, surrogate clan, and religious congregation all rolled into one. In a strong coven, the bond is, by tradition, "closer than family": a sharing of spirits, emotions, imaginations. "Perfect love and perfect trust" are the goal.

The coven structure makes the organization of Witchcraft very different from that of most other religions. The Craft is not based on large, amorphous ma.s.ses who are only superficially acquainted; nor is it based on individual gurus with their devotees and disciples. There is no hierarchical authority, no Dalai Lama, no Pope.

The structure of Witchcraft is cellular, based on small circles whose members share a deep commitment to each other and the Craft.

Witchcraft tends to attract people who, by nature, do not like to join groups. The coven structure makes it possible for rabid individualists to experience a deep sense of community without losing their independence of spirit. The secret is its small size. A coven (usually p.r.o.nounced so as to rhyme with oven), by tradition, never contains more than thirteen members. In such a small group, each person's presence or absence affects the rest.

The group is colored by every individual's likes, dislikes, beliefs, and tastes.

At the same time, the coven becomes an ent.i.ty in itself, with a personality of its own. It generates a raith form/ an energy swirl that exists over and beyond its membership. There is a quality of synergy about a strong coven.

It is more than the sum of its parts; it is an energy pool on which its members can draw.

To become a member of a coven, a Witch must be initiated, must undergo a ritual of commitment, in which the inner teachings and secrets of the group are revealed. Initiation follows a long training period, during which trust and group security are slowly built. When properly timed, the ritual also becomes a rite of pa.s.sage that marks a new stage in personal growth. Witchcraft grows slowly; it can never be a ma.s.s-market religion, peddled on streetcorners or between flights at the airport. Witches do not proselytize. Prospective members are expected to seek out covens and demonstrate a deep level of interest. The strength of the Craft is felt to be in quality, not quant.i.ty. Originally, coveners were the teachers and priestesses/priests of a large Pagan population of noninitiates. They were the councils of elders within each clan, the wise women and wise men who delved beneath the surface of their rites and sought the deeper meanings. At the large solar festivals, the Sabbats, they led the rituals, organized the gatherings, and expounded the meanings of the ceremonies. Each coven had its own territory, which by tradition extended for a league. Neighboring covens might join for the great Sabbats, in order to share knowledge, herbs, spells, and, of course, gossip. Federations of covens were sometimes linked together under a Witch "Queen," or Grandmaster. On full moons, covens met alone for Esbats, when they studied the inner teachings and practiced magic.

During the Burning Times, the great festivals were stamped out or Christianized. Persecution was most strongly directed against coven members, because they were seen as the true perpetuators of the religion. The strictest secrecy became necessary. Any member of a coven could betray the rest to torture and death, so "perfect love and perfect trust" were more than empty words. Covens were isolated from one another, and traditions became fragmented, teachings forgotten.

Today, there is a growing effort throughout the Craft to reestablish communication between covens and share knowledge. But many individual Witches still cannot afford to "come out of the broom closet." Public recognition may mean the loss of their jobs and livelihoods. Known Witches are easy targets for violent crackpots: A Southern California couple were firebombed out of their home after appearing on a television talk show. Other Witches face hara.s.sment by the authorities for traditional practices such as divination, or become scapegoats for local crimes. Unfortunately, prejudice is still widespread. Sensitive people never identify anyone as a Witch without first asking permission privately. In this book, my own friends and coveners have generally been referred to by coven names in order to protect their privacy.

Every coven is autonomous. Each functions as its own authority in matters of ritual, thealogy, and training.

Groups of covens that follow the same rites may consider themselves part of the same tradition. To ensure legal protection for their members, many covens band together and incorporate as a church, but the rights of separate covens are always jealously guarded.

Covens usually develop a specific orientation and focus. There are covens that concentrate on healing or teaching; others may lean toward psychic work, trance states, social action, or creativity and inspiration. Some simply seem to throw good parties; after all, "all acts of love and pleasure" are rituals of the G.o.ddess. Covens may include both men and women or be limited to women only. (There are very few all-male covens, for reasons to be discussed in Chapter Six.) A coven is a group of peers, but it is not a "leaderless group." Authority and power, however, are based on a very different principle from that which holds sway in the world at large. Power, in a coven, is never power over another. It is the power that comes from within.

In Witchcraft, power is another word for energy, the subtle current of forces that shape reality. A powerful person is one who draws energy into the group. The ability to channel power depends on personal integrity, courage, and wholeness. It cannot be a.s.sumed, inherited, appointed, or taken for granted, and it does not confer the right to control another. Power-from-within develops from the ability to control ourselves, to face our own fears and limitations, to keep commitments, and to be honest. The sources of inner power are unlimited. One person's power does not diminish another's; instead, as each covener comes into her own power, the power of the group grows stronger.

Ideally, a coven serves as the training ground in which each member develops her or his personal power. The support and security of the group reinforce each member's belief in herself. Psychic training opens new awarenesses and abilities, and feedback from the group becomes the ever-present mirror in which we "see ourselves as others see us." The goal of a coven is not to do away with leaders, but to train every Witch to be a leader, a Priestess, or a Priest.

The issue of leadership has plagued the feminist movement and the New Left. Exemplars of power-from-within are sadly lacking on the American political scene. Power-over-others is correctly seen to be oppressive, but too often the "collective ideal" is misused, to tear down the strong instead of to build strength in the weak. Powerful women are attacked instead of supported: "Am I a traitor? They ought to shoot me. Made me into a leader. We're not supposed to have leaders. I will be executed in some underground paper, my character a.s.sa.s.sinated subterraneously."1 The concept of power-from-within encourages healthy pride, not self-effacing anonymity; joy in one's strength, not shame and guilt. In Witchcraft, authority means responsibility. The coven leader must have the inner power and sensitivity to channel the group's energy, to start and stop each phase of the ritual, adjusting the timing to the mood of the circle. A ritual, like a theater production, needs a director.

In practice, leadership is pa.s.sed from one covener to another in a fully developed group. The wand representing the authority of the leader may be pa.s.sed to each covener in turn. Different sections of the ritual may be led by different people.

For example, our last Fall Equinox ritual was inspired by Alan, who is an apprentice but not yet an initiate of Compost coven. Alan is very much involved with the men's liberation movement and wanted a ritual centered around changing the s.e.x-role conditioning we have each received. Eight of us, from Compost, from Honeysuckle, my women's coven, and from Alan's men's group, planned the ritual together. Here is my account: Fall Equinox, 1978 A hot night. Seventeen of us met at Guidot's, nine women and eight men. After some socializing, we went upstairs to the ritual room.

Alan, aided by Guidot and Paul, cast the circle, using beautiful invocations, which I think he improvised on the spot. Three or four of us had explained the ritual to the rest, so they were ready. I led the invocation to the G.o.ddess, using the Kore Chant. I began speaking it, and as I switched into the sung chant, it was as if something came in from behind and lifted me out of myself. My voice physically changed, became a low, deep throbbing, with power pouring through into the circle, and then, as everyone picked up the chant, pouring through all of us-the dark moaning wail of summer's pa.s.sing, sad but beautiful...

Change is ... touch is ...

Touch us ... change us ...

Alan, Paul, and Guidot invoked the G.o.d, Alan calling Him as the Gentle Brother, the Rape Fighter. He wrote a powerful invocation (included in Chapter Six).

We began a banishing dance, widdershins around the circle. As we moved, one person would throw out a phrase-the group took it up and repeated it, chanted it rhythmically, building it, shrieking it, then letting it die away until its power to control us faded with it. Alan began it: "You must be successful!"

"You must be successful!" "You must be successful!" "Must be! Must be! Must be!" "Must!"

"Nice girls don't do that!" "Nice girls don't do that!" "Big boys don't cry!" "You're not a real woman!" "Sissy!

Sissy! Sissy!"

Sixteen howling echoes took up every cry, frenzied, mocking voices that became, in the dim light, the pursuing Furies of our own minds, taunting, laughing, screaming-then vanishing, like wisps of smoke. By the end we were stamping, shouting-seventeen stark-naked adults, jumping up and down, yelling "No! No! No! No! No!"

Younger Self was awake in its full, primal glory, all right.

Val has come into her own, her power as the Crone. She performed the Mystery (which is secret), aided, I think, by Alan and Paul. I never saw. Laurel, Brook, and I led the trance, a soft, whispered, three-voiced induction: Your fingers are dissolving into ...

Dream deep, and sleep the magic sleep ...

Dissolving into water, and your toes are ...

Valerie awakened us. We formed into two groups, for the male and female Mysteries. The men took a long time-I think they got involved in a historical discussion of the rites of Dionysus.

When they finished, we one by one moved back into the circle, sitting man and woman alternately. We went around the circle, each saying how we become strong.

"I become strong through facing my fears."

"I become strong through my friends."

"I become strong through making mistakes."

"I become strong through taking a stand."

"I become strong through dreaming."

Then we chanted, raising power to actualize the visions we had seen in trance, of our true, free selves. The chant went on and on, it was so physically pleasurable, feeling the flow of power, the low resonance of the deep male voices, the high, bell-like notes of the women-it swirled around us like a great, warm wave.

After, Alan and I blessed the wine and cakes. As the cup went around the circle, we each said what we were thankful for. The cup went around many times. Then we relaxed, ate, laughed, talked as usual. Alan ended the ritual and : opened the circle.

Afterward, I was amazed at how smoothly it all went, with everyone taking different parts. It feels good to be able to step back and let other people take the center, to see them developing their power.

At the present time, both Compost and the women's coven, called Honeysuckle, are covens of elders. and Each initiate is capable of leading rituals, directing the energy, and training newcomers. The process of development in each group, however, was very different.

Compost was typical of many of the new, self-initiatory covens that are springing up today without benefit of formal Craft training. I had been taught by Witches many years previously, when I was a college student, but never actually initiated. Most of my knowledge came from dream figures and trance experiences. I had been unable to find a coven I felt was right for me, and for many years I had worked alone. Finally, I decided to see if I could start my own coven, whether or not I was "authorized" to do so. I began teaching a cla.s.s in Witchcraft through the Bay Area Center for Alternative Education.

Within a few weeks, a group of interested individuals began meeting weekly. Our rituals were collective and spontaneous, like the one described at the opening of this chapter. We resisted set forms and set words.

After a few months had pa.s.sed, a strong core group developed, and we performed a formal initiation. Our rituals had also taken on a regular pattern, and we decided to set the structure of the rites so that we would have a collective framework, within which we could all be spontaneous and open. Before, the leader-usually me-had decided what was going to happen at any given moment, and everyone else had followed along.