Being Wiccan is not always joy and daisies.  Part of this “dark side of Wicca” has to do with the path itself.  The rest stems from the way the Wiccan path integrates — or does not integrate — with the rest of the world.

If you choose to become Wiccan, you have to accept both wells of darkness for what they are:  part of the landscape, deep and dark holes in which you can fall and be injured, places from which (with effort) you can draw sustenance, a place suitable for tossing the bright coins of your desires in the hopes to manifest change.  With that in mind, let’s take a closer look.

The Well Of Death

Some Witches would say that the balance of the Craft is between Life and Death, with the idea that half the year is dedicated to one principle and the other half sworn to its opposite.  After all, that’s how you divide things when you have TWO, right?  Right down the middle.

Toss that thought.  Wicca is not a linear path.  Instead of Life and Death being on two ends, they are placements on a circle.  From our perspective, using actual lives as data, Death is a very small point.  It’s a crossing, a threshold, not even a room in the house — Death is a transition space as we move from one kind or type of life to another.  Most of our path is spent in the realm of Life, of living, of existing as a corporeal being with a spiritual sense of something beyond our limited self-scope.

The Well of Death is deep and frightening mostly because it contains so much of what is unknown.  Like the small coin held close to the candleflame, Death casts a huge shadow, even though Death itself is actually a small thing.  That shadow preoccupies us, though.  We spend billions each year running from death through health care gimmicks, surgeries, drugs promising to reverse time, drugs giving us the sexual responsiveness of a 20-year-old, photos on magazine covers prostelytize the virtues of youth and timelessness.  Oh yes, we are afraid of Death.

But Death is more than leaving this life.  The winds we feel at the crossroads are the longing sighs of the Lord of the Underworld, stimulating changes in course, changes in life, changes in thinking.  As we learn to succumb to the greater and smaller alterations in our life path, we are flexing our muscles to prepare for the “big Letting Go” into the next world.

To be Wiccan is to be able to look this force in the eye, to lean over the edge of that sacred well and see our reflection in the black waters below.  Death is part of the landscape.  It cannot be changed.  That dark lower realm is a place from which we can draw strength by facing our fears and demons.   It is a source of survival in a barren landscape.  When controlled, our darker aspects can be rich resources of cunning, strength, and power — but you don’t gain these by running away from Death.  We can toss our bright wishes into the Well of Death for strength, freedom from these dark forces, a safe passage protected from all harm.  It’s merely another way of propitiating the spirits — it’s been done for centuries.

Perhaps the most dangerous aspect of the Well of Death is becoming addicted to the taste of the water.  The Craft is about Life and the challenges of Living.  Death is a small event — our final exit — with many practice runs of “letting go” and “forced change” over the course of our lives.  I have heard some people express Life as “slow Death”, that once we are born, we are dying.  Regardless of the fact that being alive makes Death inevitable, I find this more grim than I can express.  I know that in the course of my existence, if you want to measure out the time spent crossing over that Veil into the Summerlands compared with all the REST of my life, Death is a blink.  A moment.

What sets Death apart, though?  Really, it is the final decision over which we have little, if any, control.  For all the time you are living, you have the power of choice, to do what you will and create what you wish and bring into being that which you choose to birth.  But when the Lord of the Underworld comes to gather you — when Hades comes for the Persephone we all are — there is no choice.  Our time of choices ends.  All we can do then is fight and thrash against the God that comes to claim us, or place our hand in His and step bravely into the realm in which we shall be welcomed as royalty.  Those left behind will cry Demeter’s tears, and they, too, will learn to move on as spring returns to their lives.

It is a challenge for some on this path to keep the focus on Death in its proper place.  The Wheel of the Year is filled with life — Birth at Yule, growing through youth at Imbolc and Ostara, sexual maturation at Beltaine, marriage and family at Midsummer, the harvest of early and later adulthood at Lughnasadh/Lammas and Mabon, and then — and only then — the meeting at the Veil at Samhaine.  Of course, there are shadows of Death in all the other places on the Wheel, but it’s only a shadow.  No one in their right mind looks at the Shadows and treats them as the main focus.  There is a time when those Shadows become solid and are the center focus — but all the time?

It is tempting to focus on Death, Darkness, and Shadow when you begin this path.  It’s a new thought — most modern religious movements don’t tell you it’s okay to embrace the Shadow (that’s why they put the Boogey-man face on it and attempt to keep us away from it — and our own power).  However, ask yourself if that heavy focus on Death, Decay, Darkness, and Shadow is really natural for you?  Is it a holdover attitude from abuse in your past?  Are you preoccupied with the idea that power comes only from these places?  As I said, it’s easy to fall into the darkness of this well.  The taste of working with the Shadow is as addictive as anything else.  But it’s not balanced.

Sadly, I’ve met more than my share of Witches and Pagans who seem to work only with Dark Goddesses, who love to speak about how powerful they are, how bad-ass their hexes are, and so forth.  They really put Shadow-work on pedestal, love drinking from that well.  I’ve also had plenty of accusations leveled that I’m afraid of the “dark” and unwilling to do the “hard work” of facing the Shadow (I think the derogatory term is “fluffy”).  Whatever — I base my path on what Nature does.  Nature spends about 2 months of the year in true “dead zone” (between Samhaine and Yule).  Nature doesn’t linger in Death, and neither should we.  I respect it, I honor it, but I do not esteem it above its station.  It is PART of our Mysteries — not THE Mystery.  I suggest that you, likewise, keep your path in balance.

The Well Of Distance

The second dark well in practicing Wicca pertains to dealing with those who aren’t Wiccan.  These people can be strangers, friends, family, spouses, children, employers, lovers, and all other relationships short and long term.  I call it the Well of Distance because that is what exists between you and everyone else when you step on this path.

When we cast circle, we draw the boundary between ourselves and the larger world for the purposes of doing magick.  Stepping onto the Wiccan path performs a similar separation.  Some of the separation happens within you.  Some of it happens in reaction to the changes in you.  None of it is anyone’s “fault”.  Differentiation isn’t bad… it’s just different.  Fault only occurs when someone takes an action that is disrespectful, and that, too, has a tendency to happen, not just with religious differences, but any differences.

When you become Wiccan, you are choosing to join a minority faith.  Most people who are minorities are born minorities, have to live with the stress of being “different” from the time of their birth.  Many Wiccans are converts, coming to this faith from the mainstream of some other socio-religious background.  Choosing to be Wiccan can bring down on your head a rash of persecution, funny looks, abusive words, guilt trips, ridicule, and other vicious words, actions, and attitudes.  It’s best you know that up front and be prepared.

My High Priestess taught me that choosing to be Wiccan wasn’t something you do to be popular.  Being Wiccan changes how you look at life in a deep way.  It makes the circle of people you can share your faith with much smaller.  It limits your dating pool — when most of the Western world is Christian, finding another pagan to marry means fishing in a much smaller pond.  Being Wiccan usually necessitates a conversation with family — due to misunderstandings, this often doesn’t go smoothly.  One can lose friends, lose respect of people who have known you all your life, lose “points” with employers and work associates.  It doesn’t always happen, however, there is still a lot of prejudice in the world.  I happen to live in the South — I’ve seen with my own eyes crosses being burned in the yards of Witches.  It happens.

Beyond people challenges, there are social challenges, too.  It’s hard to find a church, hard to locate other Pagans, hard to find good literature and guidance to follow your path.  There is a sense of “aloneness” that can be suffocating.  There can be difficulties in applying natural wisdom to your life, especially when you come from a path where everything you needed to know was dictated to you.  There are no ethics, no laws to break, nothing really to rebel against (some people need that “box” to break out of in order to feel like they’re in control).  There is little organization and plenty of grumblings between fellow Pagans.  There’s always the choice of just being Solitary, but face it — we’re social creatures.  We need the interaction.  Good interaction is hard to find.

This Well of Distance is just part of the landscape, too.  It is part of that circle boundary that exists between magickal and non-magickally-minded folk.  Sometimes the Distance comes from us, baggage left over from earlier religious or social experiences, and that is where our own Shadows overlap… where the waters from both wells come together.  The waters from the Well of Distance can be bitter.  It’s hard to have to recognize that people who have known you all your life suddenly “don’t get you” when, really, nothing has changed about you but the word you use to describe yourself.  It’s hard to be alone, knowing that the topic of religion on a date might end up being the end of the date.  It’s hard to not have a strong social support system, to not be able to just head down to the corner temple and participate in a spiritual event of your faith.  And it’s hard to really be you around unsupportive family and friends — most people either stay true to themselves and have to put up with the discomfort or rejection of those close to them, and others have to “keep a lid on who they really are” in order to keep the peace.  Yes, it can be a bitter drink from that Well, but we all end up swallowing it at some point or another.

In other words, being Wiccan isn’t this easy thing.  It’s considerably more difficult than changing your hair color (which is also a choice to alter something you’ve probably had since birth/early life).  It takes commitment to walk this path because, believe me, you will encounter experiences — self-generated and other-people-generated — that will make you want to give up and go back to something easier.  But there is strength to be gained in the doing, joy to be found in the walking.  It takes effort, and you’re going to get tired and hot and thirsty.  You may have to drink from these wells now and again.  But don’t forget…

The Craft path meanders along the shores of the River of Life.  There is a strong and solid flow of beauty, wonder, and bliss beside where the Children of the Goddess walk.  It sparkles in sunlight like cloth-of-gold and gleams like silver beneath the moon.  It’s there to splash in, drink from, trail our fingers in, let it bear us up and carry us to the sea.  While you experience your challenges on the path, don’t forget to go to the River.  She will remind you that this path is about Flow, and Movement, and Change, and Life, and Beauty, and Wonder, and…

Who knows what you will discover along Her shores!

The point I’m trying to make is that you can’t walk this path by tending the Wells of Death and Distance.  Tending the Well of Death renders you unbalanced and enslaved.  Tending the well of Distance leaves you angst-ridden and bitter and alone.  Don’t stand still at the Wells — or anywhere for that matter.  If you’re not on the move, you’ve missed the point of your life being a journey and your spiritual walk being an action you take.  Challenges are normal, but face them and move on.

Don’t dwell at the well, and you’ll do well.

Next entry in New to Wicca?  — Coven Or Solitary?

Photo by Eddi o7 (via Flickr).