I
like to brag that I was very lucky as far as my introduction to Paganism goes.
When I was ready to really study and potentially practice the Craft, I was
delighted to find resources all around me. Many of my friends knew Pagans or
were Pagan themselves. A lot of the feminist theory I was reading applied to
Earth Worship as well. Even my family was taking similar interests in Paganism.
I remember with delight that my mom and I would often be reading the exact same
books at the exact same time, unintentionally.
Not
only did I have books and people to help me, but many of these people were in
an organized group, a coven. The coven held public sabbats which were perfect
for Baby Pagans. So, my first ritual ever was with the Serpents of the Vine, Midsummer
2005.
These
people really had their stuff together. They had lots of experience and they
all had lots of books and they’d pass them to me on a regular basis. Having an
active message board online meant I could learn about the group, connect with
the members, see upcoming events, and most of all, when I had stupid questions,
they’d answer and help out. Through the coven I was able to participate in open
sabbat rituals, open workshops, and even something simple and fun like Pagan
coffee at a local shop. There was a community and a world opened up to me with
the coven, even with only being an outer-circle person and not a member.
Through
a system of me getting to know them, and them getting to know me, we found that
we all liked one another. I was invited to a full moon esbat, and a few months
later, invited to dedicate. With the dedication came a year of intentional
study, mentoring, and real coven work.
Or
course, having a coven has its ups and downs. There was drama, of course.
Remember, Pagans are people, too! (and
how!) There were breakups (with one another and the coven), gossip, cruel
words, drama queens, people who took center stage, people who weren’t committed
and didn’t do their work – all sorts of negative and toxic energy being spewed
around by all of us, myself included.
These things make it impossible to do magic with another person, but inevitably come up when you do magic
with another person!
So
what having a coven taught me was that it brings out the best and worst in people.
It’s all part of being human, and Pagans are so very very very very human. (we
almost make a religion out of it, don’t you think?)
I
was lucky with my first coven, but I have dear friends who had horrible, scary
first experiences. There are covens that abuse their members emotionally, sexually,
and magically. For me, I was lucky. For others, they need to be smart.
I
almost didn’t make it. We (the coven) almost didn’t make it. But I did, and we
did. (Mostly/kind of.)
As
people grow, change, and evolve, covens (should) grow, change, and evolve with
them. And while I’ve moved away, and others have moved away, and others aren’t
even Pagan any more, I still feel a connection with these people, a connection
that I’ve never felt with anyone else (though I’ve come close, but different.
Which is important to recognize as well. Different groups form different
connections, and that energy takes on a different flavor. It’s different, but
no less meaningful.) As a Baby Pagan, I needed a coven, but I also needed to
move away from a coven in order to grow, too, in both my mundane and my magical
lives.
And
on my own in the big wide lonely Pagan world, I’ve learned that I had it very
easy. When I went into my coven, they had already done all of the hard work.
There was a system in place, with
rules and tradition and protocol, and for the most part, it worked. It wasn’t
until I was trying to start my own coven that I really, really appreciated this
structure. It’s important to recognize, though, that some people and groups thrive
under structure and some don’t. I guess I do. I’m lazy and I like it when
people do all the hard work, and I just didn’t realize how hard it was help facilitate
a coven until myself and others were trying to do it from scratch.
Not
that my little coven was a failure. Far from it. I learned a lot, and it was a
year of beauty and sisterhood and magic. While I don’t have a coven now, I have
a group of women with whom I’m connected in a delicious, special way. What my
experiment with covens has taught me is that being in a coven is hard. But they
can be beautiful. At both their best and worst, covens can be a good way to
learn and grow, and they can offer a way to facilitate those traits blooming in
others, too.
Most
of all, covens come in all different shapes and sizes. No coven I have now or
in the future will be like my first coven, and I need to realize that. And what
does or does not happen in my future will be unique and magical, and that’s special,
too. That’s why we’re Pagan - so we can manifest our own destinies, magical and
mundane, in whatever flavor we desire.
