By Dave Gaddy

Something has been on my mind lately: I have been feeling compromised, domesticated – even tamed. While I have been working on these feelings and attitudes within myself, trying to push them out of my Craft, I still find myself longing for something wild, uninhibited, and feral. When I browse through Instagram, YouTube, ‘Witch-Tok,’ and even Facebook, I find many fellow witches who seem to be promoting a user-friendly, safe version of The Craft. Admittedly, I find myself personally doing things that make my witchcraft more palatable for my family, friends, and acquaintances. My trips to the woods to seek a respite from that domesticity also seem to be less than productive lately and feeling more like the ‘gingerbread house’ syndrome (appealing to those who might happen by).

I realize we have a need for those ‘Love and Light’ moments, a time for sweet, calm blessings, but in my Craft I also thrive on balance in working with bones, poisonous plants, and herbs. I confess: I crave the magick of the Old Ways, my ancestral traditional practices, and dancing sky-clad among the trees, plants, and creatures around me. These days, I purposely incorporate more of that feral part of me into my witchcraft. I have found that adding teeth adds bite back to my practices, and that the magick is stronger. In sanding off the jagged edges, I realized that the harsh, splintered pieces were what gave my intention holding power.

My trips to the woods have now begun happening under cover of nightfall, when the moon is bright and irresistibly beckoning me outside. Bathed in the darkness and silence of the midnight hour, not only am I able to shed my clothing, but my inhibitions as well. My backpack, brimming with tools for the needed workings, is ready for the passion and energy that I can pour into them. I have found during these times of ‘wylding’ that I am visited more frequently by the creatures of the woods who typically tend to hide or sleep during the day; I encounter fox, raccoons, owls and a critter that I have always been fearful of – the opossum.

I realize that there are lessons to be learned from this animal and have been trying hard to overcome the fear that it automatically instills in me. I know that they are essentially harmless to humans and are very beneficial and that they can’t get rabies, but still, that toothy, rat-like, ambling beast makes me cringe. Such a visual of the powerful, feral, wild witch, huh? I am trying to learn by observation as I think these creatures of the night are. The fox I see is constantly watching, ears pricked for any sound of an intruder. The opossum, unworried about those around him and thinking only of the next steps he must take. The owl, eyes constantly moving, searching the ground for other animals that will meet his needs and give him the strength he needs for that day.

In the end I have grown tired of being ‘safe’ and ‘palatable.’ I am ok with people being watchful and even a bit leery when they are around me, but I want the full nature of my Craft and practices to emanate from my being, spirit, and soul. It is imperative that this includes the light, the dark – and the gray.”

Just as nature is sharp of tooth and claw, so, too, is the witch. Try as our society might to remove us from nature, the wildness of the land always finds a way to creep back into the witch. It winds its way deep into us, instilling within us a reminder not to bend our will for anyone else, not to let our power be dimmed by another. It bids us to trust ourselves, to trust the truth of the world we experience each day. It reminds us that we have teeth and claws for a reason.

Yet from every direction we are encouraged to doubt ourselves, to forget our truth, to relinquish the power we hold and accept what is done to us. For all the talk about reclaiming our wildness, it’s not possible. Our lives are fully entrenched in the disruptive, the abnormal, the civilized. But… we can go feral. We can choose to be different while still belonging. To be fierce and unapologetic—and still clean up nicely when it suits us. We can embrace our right of choice and embrace the liminality encapsulated in witchcraft. We can be feral witches.”

I think for these reasons, I crave that thorny, sweaty, uninhibited dance with the spirits of nature. I want to be able to extend my teeth and claws in the company of those who understand. Through observing the creatures around me during my midnight romps in the woods, I have found that the teeth and claws only show when necessary….not all the time.

Daily life is stressful enough, our path shouldn’t be. It should be a culmination of all that we are…the good, the bad, even the ugly. I find that my strongest magic comes out of anger, frustration, passion, and fear. I have been learning lately to embrace my fears. My fears at anypoint in time can prove to be my strongest allies.

I have found that the thing I am most afraid of is myself. I have been afraid to let myself enjoy the complete freedom of wildness, darkness and even light. I have found it to be an unknown yet familiar force that encompasses me, but also hunts me down.

Think about it…We don’t need to be tamed, we just need to learn when to let our Wild run free.

About the Author

As the Weathered Wyseman, Dave is descended from over five generations of folk whose lives were steeped in the magic and mystery of the Appalachian Mountains. Early in his career he studied theology and became an ordained minister, then his true calling brought him home to his roots and to embracing the magickal arts in Appalachian Folk and Nature Magic. With over thirty years devoted to his Craft, he is wyse in the ways of animal magick, emotional and spiritual healing (with special focus on the masculine spirit), bone-throwing, intuitive readings, and ancestral workings.