Gather, Witches

The time is now

I’ve long thought the reason middle-aged women begin to identify with witch lore is because we’ve experienced so much sexism and misogyny in our lives, with no real-world consequences for the perpetrators. Time and time again. Fantasies of magical powers to compensate for our lack of real-world power, which for most women manifests in mid-life with the loss of the currency of youth, become more appealing. I think it’s why we find tarot and crystals and reiki and astrology and stuffing our enemies into a bear suit and setting them on fire appealing. It’s why we like revenge stories, and witches are skilled in the art of revenge.

I’ve recently developed a relationship with Hekate, the ancient, triple goddess representing the maiden, mother, and crone; keeper of the keys, and torchbearer of the crossroads. She’s sometimes depicted as a dark, dangerous figure, accompanied by her dogs, but she is said to come to women who have been wronged and are seeking justice, if you call to her. But you must be careful. Gaining the attention of such a powerful goddess is not to be trifled with.

The Netherlands has a long history with witches, and like most places with a long history with witches, it’s based on the oppression of women. It is believed that the first woman to be murdered as a “witch” in the Netherlands was in 1472 and the last in 1674. In June of 2023, thousands of women in the Netherlands gathered at midday on the Dam in Amsterdam, and in 20 other places in the Netherlands, and laid white flowers in support of the plans for a monument to those murdered as witches. “Everything that might be linked with the accusation of being a witch – being older, being alone, having a big mouth – is something that people even now find it difficult to accept in a woman. Or more difficult than from a man,” one of the organizers is quoted as saying.

Oppressing women is back in fashion, and on Monday the Grand Poobah of misogyny and patriarchal dominance of women is set to be crowned in the United States.

It’s unclear how we women will find our power. Perhaps there will be a gathering in the forest where we will meet, under the cover of darkness, where only the light of the full moon and the dancing flames of our torches light our way, and we will make our plans.

I’ll see you there.

Saul and the Witch of Endor, painted by Jacob Cornelisz van Oostsanen (alias Jacob War van Amsterdam), hangs in the Rijks Museum in Amsterdam. “Fearing the outcome of a battle, Saul, king of the Israelites, consulted the fortune-telling witch of Endor. The prophecy came true: Saul lost the battle, but shortly before he was to be killed, he threw himself on his sword. His suicide — in the middle background — is a warning against witchcraft. In the foreground is a Witch’s Sabbath: the fortune-teller sits within a chalk circle, surrounded by other withes, satyrs, and imaginary figures.”