Wicca Wicca what?

“I stood staring at the bath, then she told me to get naked and get in it, so I did.”

If I hadn’t already wondered if this meetup I chose to attend was a bit on the weird side, this guy’s story convinced me.

What meetup? Well, let me tell you!

When I first moved to Victoria, I knew one person who lived in the vicinity and had just made some new friends with my coworkers at my new job. I have a pretty diverse range of interests (who doesn’t?), and I wanted to build a larger social network around them, so I could have touchpoints everywhere. My solution? I joined, a resource that lets you find local groups based on your interests to meet like-minded people.

I was off to see the wizard

The closest upcoming meeting that piqued my interest was for a witchcraft group. I had an idea in mind about how this group would look; I imagined people my own age who were maybe dressed like Stevie Nicks, or like Brad Pitt in Interview with the Vampire, so I signed up. I’m always full of realistic expectations.

The meetup was going to be held at a fairly public coffee shop, and I made the decision to, at the very least, walk by and see what the group looked like. If everything looked okay, I’d go in. I’m not sure what wouldn’t be okay, but I’ll leave that up to your imagination.

Game time

Peeking through the window a few minutes before the event was set to start, I saw a group of four people whose ages ranged from 45 to 90 years old. They seemed harmless, so I took a deep breath and went inside.

I wandered in and acted like I owned the place (a new tactic I’ve taken to pull myself out of any social anxiety I might feel – act like you’re way more comfortable than you are and then others assume you are fine and don’t feel additional pressure to try to include you), smiled at everyone and asked if they were part of the witchcraft meet up. They all smiled, welcomed me and invited me to sit down and join them. I grabbed a tea and settled in to make some new friends.

The facilitator of the group was a woman in her early 40s, curly brown hair, warm smile, the type of person you immediately feel comfortable around. She started the conversation by asking us what drew us to the group and what our experience was with witchcraft.

We went around the room, beginning with a woman beside me who reminded me a lot of Katey Sagal as Gemma in Sons of Anarchy (I was immediately inclined to like her), and then to a white-haired woman whose age I couldn’t guess. Both of them had standard answers (as standard as you can get for discussions around magic), describing how they got involved, and created rituals for themselves that included meditation and interests in energy practices like Reiki. Next, the facilitator moved to a man who looked to be in his late 80s or early 90s.

Let the good times roll

He shared his story about discovering witchcraft in England, in the late 50s, at a time when it was still considered underground and people didn’t really talk about it. It was difficult to find any covens, and then harder still to be involved with them. He managed to do so, meeting a man around his same age at the time who said he would help him get connected.

It started with an initiation, which involved being picked up in the dead of night by a car full of men. They drove him to a house in an unfamiliar part of town and dropped him off, telling him to go to the door. He was left alone there, so he went up to the house and knocked on the door, which was answered by a woman wearing an ankle-length robe. She led him towards a bathroom where she directed him to take off his clothes and get in the bath.

As an aside, he mentioned that a bath in the 50s, with the way plumbing was behind the times in England, were usually a “fill up the tub once” type of affair, and that other people had already bathed in this particular bath during the course of the day.

After the bath, he was given a robe to put on, then was blindfolded and led into the basement.

At this point in the story, the woman facilitating the group stopped him and continued to ask the group why they were interested in joining. The only person who hadn’t responded yet, was me.

After this story, the reason why I was there seemed quite…lame in comparison. I responded, “I’ve always been interested in tarot, crystals, divination and magic and am new to town. I thought it would be good to connect with others with similar interests.”

No blindfolded, shared bathtub experiences for me.

I stayed for a bit longer, enough to hear the Katey Sagal lookalike next to me say in annoyance, “Men are stupid. If they weren’t, they would be here to meet women like us.”

Not willing to go into some weird male-bashing conversation, I chose this moment to say goodbye.

Although it was interesting tale-telling fodder at work the next week, I chose to not go to any more meetups with that group.

Moving sucks

Contrary to what you might think based on my actions (moving once a year), I actually hate moving. It sucks.

If you’ve been following along with my posts, then you know that recently I made a decision to move back to Calgary and my move date is quickly approaching.

My coworkers, a.k.a friends, a.k.a island family, held a going away for me today and it was highly emotional for me…and so has this entire process of making the decision, accepting the job and then planning the logistics of the move.

For someone who has been educated in how to communicate about complex emotions, I find it ridiculous and frustrating that I am still often (99 per cent of the time) unable to share how I feel.

I forget that I’m not good at it until an off hand comment like, “oh she does have feelings guys,” said in light-hearted jest as I bawl my eyes out in front of a room full of people after receiving the sweetest card and gift, makes me realize that I need to do better.

I struggle to express deep emotions like the heartrending grief I feel at leaving Victoria and the people who made this place feel like home for me. I feel like I don’t have the right to it, because I’m choosing to go.

I don’t know if what I’m doing is right. I’m terrified I’m making the wrong decision. I was terrified when I left Calgary too. None of this is easy. I just get up and keep moving forward because the choice is made and that is how I operate. I can’t spend my life wondering what if. And so, I just do.

But, emotionally, it’s not easy.

I am beyond grateful to everyone who befriended me, who invited me in to their homes, their families, and made me feel like I immediately belonged. That is not something that just happens. These people made an effort for me.

I have no words that can fully express my gratitude. This is usually the point where I just can’t tell people how deeply I feel, and so, I say nothing.

But, in an attempt to suck less at communicating my feelings, I’ll try:

To everyone who took me in and became part of my life here in Victoria, thank you. I hold immeasurable love for you.