A New Age Witch Coming of Age
Mindfulness for the other side
The woodcutter was getting back home. Night had fallen, and he still had a good hour and a half to go. No wonder, in the eerie dark, that he talked to himself every now and then.
“At least if a witch fetched me a sack full of coins,” he said, “I wouldn’t mind the dark and the cold.”
“Oh yeah, how much were you thinking of?” he heard a coarse voice, a few yards behind him.
His blood curdled and he felt a cold shudder go down his spine. He started running, and running he kept, up and down the mountain, through the woods, across the clearings, past the orchards and right up to his door. His teeth were still chattering when he went to bed, having downed three schnapps glasses of his best sort.
The voice in the forest gave a nasty laugh after the man took off.
But then another voice was heard, thundering through the night.
“Just what do you think you’re doing here, you little mischief?”
The thing that owned the laughing voice went still in an instant. She was a little witch, barely out reconnoitering the woods on her own. She had seen older fellows of her kind scaring the silly humans out of their wits, playing them tricks and leading them astray. The wretch just now was her first trophy.
“Erm — playing around, like witches do?” she answered in a thin voice, unsure of what response to expect. Who was talking anyway?
“Like witches do,” the deep voice echoed her mockingly. Then, a moment’s silence. And a sigh. “Don’t you see this is the problem? What is it that witches do, precisely? Scare humans out of their wits, play them tricks, lead them astray?”
The young witch cowered, looking up and around to find the spirit that was upbraiding her.
“Erm — yes? I’ve been out with older brothers and sisters who did this, and were trained and coached to get better at it — but what’s wrong with it?” she ventured, bracing herself for more scolding, without figuring out why she was being scolded at all.
“You’re young, but one’s never too young to learn to live mindfully. Mindfulness is what saves us from being led by our ego, from engaging with the wrong impulses.”
Excuse me, what? the young witch thought.
The voice was silent for another moment, then resumed, in a softer tone. The witch heard the rustle of leaves, and from the darkness an even darker shape emerged, slowly approaching.
“Don’t be afraid. Let’s sit together for a while, shall we?” the dark figure squatted next to the witch. “Have you ever wondered why witches do those things to humans?”
The young witch was speechless. What a question. No, she’d never wondered, and she knew nobody who had.
“You see, that’s exactly what humans believe we’re here on earth to do. In their narrow minds, they think witches, devils, and ghosts only exist to make their lives hard. Which is a bit paranoid, don’t you think?” the voice addressed her almost humorously.
She didn’t think anything of the humans. Were they paranoid for believing that? Weren’t witches, devils, and ghosts there precisely to goad and tease humans?
“You see, humans can only think in terms of dualities: us and them, day and night, good and bad. You know those stories about a smart monk who tricked the devil into carrying a huge boulder to build a handsome church? And the others where we lead them into abysses? They either play victims and we’re the evil ones, or they play cool and we’re the stupid ones.
“And their double standards, oh dear! For them, sunbathing is fun and wellbeing, but our moonbathing is uncanny and deceptive. They squeal and make an awful din when they’re partying, but when we dance and play, they call it mischief and tricks.
“Have you seen how they picture us? Their silly wood carvings, their drawings of us with crooked noses, in pointed hats, and riding brooms? There’s hiking trails called Witches’ Trail, and open meadows called Witches’ Landing Site, and twisted huts called Witches’ House. They carve out their sorry pumpkins and dress up as witches, devils and ghosts one day a year, and they think that’s the way to meet us?
“So I’m asking you: is it right, you think, for us to engage, and respond the way they expect us? Should we do as they tempt us — deceive them, lure them, put up nasty mischief? Isn’t it turning against ourselves? Aren’t we engaging in a silly game that sometimes breaks our own neck?”
The little witch was shivering with cold, but kept looking at her toes, listening and waiting until things started to make some sense.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
She raised her eyes fearfully. Was it safe to say the truth?
“Not really –” she whispered. “That’s what we all do. If we shouldn’t do it, what is it we should do?”
She heard the dark figure chuckling.
“We must simply seek our own fulfilment. We are complete without humans. We don’t need them to define us.”
What did that even mean, complete without the humans?
“Look, we don’t need the humans stereotyping us. We have our own lives. Let’s just keep to our wood trails, and when we see a human, know they are only a test we’re being put to. Whenever our paths happen to cross, let us not respond to what we know they expect of us.”
So, just ignore them? Where’s the fun?
“It’s okay to have fun,” the voice replied as if reading her thoughts, “as long as it’s our conscious choice to do it. Just let’s not become what they think of us. Don’t forget, little witch, humans are not real. They are not part of our world, and they dissolve into dust as soon as their time is up. They are just an illusion. They are our shadow side, if you like. Here to goad us, and tease us, and point us to our weaknesses.”
The dark figure seemed to arise, about to take leave.
“So, you see, next time you come across a human, be mindful and ask yourself: what do I really want from this encounter? Tell yourself, I am what I am, I need no shadow telling me what to be.”
I’d lost my way hiking — yes, on the Lautenbach Witches’ Trail in the Black Forest, having left behind the Witches Plateau and gone past their House. It had got dark, and my human urges took me to the bushes. While squatting there, I heard the little nasty witch scaring the poor man away, and then the wise voice giving his mindfulness session for witches, devils and ghosts.
I’m not sure who’s meeting who for Halloween.
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