A Witch’s Creed

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I submit to awe of Earth, Sun, Moon, Storm, Sea, Wind, Stone, Fire, Rain, and Forest.

I practice the old magics of hospitality, reciprocity, story, and sympathy.

I choose to belong to myself.

I frame my choices around the ethics of care and connection.

I have many allies, ancestors, and descendants on the path. I am never alone.

I take as wild, holy scripture anything that compels me to laugh, cry, sing, or dance.  I take poetry for scripture, as well as the cardboard sign carried by a drawn, sunburned man who regularly stands at the corner of Braker and 183. “This could be you,” his sign says.

I assert that spellwork is simply a particular kind of prayer, which is itself one of the most enduring and effective techniques for human transformation.

I believe that just as prayers are made by people, prayers are usually answered by people.

I have faith that life loves the liver.

I create art, and art recreates me.

I am a divine human animal.

I am brave enough to serve my shadow selves tea.

My only real home is the ground beneath my feet, which is at once constant and changing.

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