Recently, I’ve been seeing the phrase “I can’t find anyone near me to learn from!” quite a bit more often. And there are times it makes me wonder.
The most recent was a few minutes ago, on one of the local email lists for the Pagan community in the Twin Cities (Minnesota) area, where someone was posting because she can’t find anyone near her to work with.
There’s a reason the Twin Cities are sometimes referred to as Paganistan.
We have a large and active community, especially given our relative size. There are public rituals, classes (free and otherwise), reasonably local festivals, and three local stores focusing specifically on the Pagan community. Last year’s two day Pagan Pride weekend had 35 workshops or discussions, 5 rituals, and a wide range of entertainment, vendors, and informational booths from groups in the area. (I’m on the board, I get to be pleased with this.)
I can drive most places in the Twin Cities I might need to in about 20-40 minutes outside of rush hours. (Maybe twice that, if you’re going from one suburb to another on the opposite side of the metro.) It makes getting to religious events around town a few times a month pretty feasible, even with gas prices where they are. (I have in mind a post about the actual costs of group membership, but this is not that post. Soon, though.)
If you don’t have a car, it’s a little trickier - a number of groups, including my former one, meet in homes which are not easily bus accessible, or not bus friendly on weekends. (In the case of the former covenstead, the nearest buses run about every 2 hours, and the closest stop is a serious walk away - not something I’d suggest after a demanding ritual.)
There are ways around that, though, with a little thought. Getting rides from someone, or getting a ride back to the nearest reasonable bus stop are both options people have used at various points. It often works out - and one of the reasons I regularly give friends rides is that I love the one on one time talking in the car, so I benefit too.
There are also a large number of resources for finding out about groups. I’ve already talked about many of these elsewhere. Witchvox is the most obvious, but there are the bulletin boards in stores, and various other online resources. I happen to know there *are* several groups that meet more towards her side of town. It’s not always obvious from the Witchvox listings (because several groups list themselves as Minneapolis or St. Paul, rather than the smaller suburb they’re in).
It is more clear if you go and look at individual group’s websites or more detailed descriptions, something that takes a couple of hours maybe, but is totally doable with a little investment of energy. (How do I know this? I went through every group listing on Witchvox a few weeks ago as part of sending out programming emails for Pagan Pride.)
There is also the other question: we’re talking here, at least in terms of Wiccan traditions, about small groups of people with a specific focus. Chances are good there *isn’t* going to be the perfect group for you right down the street. But if your life is generally in good order (as it should be if you’re looking at initiatory training and ongoing group work), you should be in a place that you can figure this out, somehow.
It may not be easy. It may take some sacrifice. (And I say this as someone whose ‘fun spending money’ for the past few years has been on the order of $20-40 a month to cover all non-necessary expenses.) But there are ways for determined people to find some solutions.
Not in the urban areas?
I have far less experience with more rural areas - I’ve lived all my life in either cities (as an adult) or first ring suburbs (my childhood) or second ring ones with reasonable transportation (college). The simple fact is that when there are fewer people, you’re probably going to have fewer and harder choices.
This is true whether you’re looking for Wicca, for a really good music teacher, for a less common sport, for a particular hobby, or whatever else: it’s a simple factor of numbers. The good news is that the methods that work for those things often work for Wicca - maybe it means coming up once a month for the weekend, instead of 4-6 times over the course of the month. Maybe it means doing some work over the phone or online (the stuff that can be done that way.) Maybe it means working out something else.
My former group had someone who drove about 90 minutes to get to us, from the middle of Wisconsin. Yes, it was a long haul. Yes, there were things she missed - she was up usually for two things a month, not more. Yes, there were times the weather was horrible, and she didn’t show up (and around here, that can be snowstorms, or it can be thunderstorms. Both are bad times to be driving.)
But everyone made it work for almost two years, before her focus shifted, and the group’s focus shifted a bit. That’s long enough for someone to get a solid base for personal practice, and to get connections to the rest of the community if they want to pick them up in future, which are excellent things.
The real question:
How badly do you want something? How much do you want to change your life to make this fit? That’s the question that *every* new interest or hobby or desire brings to us. It isn’t something new or strange or peculiar to being a witch.
Every new thing we want has challenges. If we want to do it well, we’re almost certainly going to have to invest in learning - time away from other things, money (to get to where we need to be, if nothing else), focus and attention to learn that come from other activities. We may give up time with our loved ones, hobbies, casual interests.
Witchcraft traditions just take it a little further. How much do we want this? How much do we want to invest in having a life that’s stable enough that we can take on the challenges (and joys) of initiatory work? Are we willing to work slowly towards a goal that might take two years, five years, ten years to fully achieve? Are we willing to wait for the right place, not the one down the street, or the one that looks easiest?
If we are, then it’s sometimes easier to step back and figure out what it takes to get there - what practical steps we can take now that will make it easier a few years down the road. But the patience to get an idea what we’re truly seeking is critical.
I finally finished (to the point I feel they should be posted) two long essays I was working on. They are:
Finding Others: Where to start looking:
This essay is based on a post I did a short while ago, when someone was frustrated by a group search: I’d been meaning to pull together a large portion of my standard advice when group seeking. It’s focused more on finding smaller groups or those focused on a specific defined path, but there’s useful ideas in there for most people seeking group Pagan interaction.
Questions when searching for a group:
Related to the above post, this is a list of questions (practical, practices, approaches, etc.) that might be useful for people who are looking for a group, but not quite sure what they’re looking for.
Please let me know if anything’s confusing or if you have other comments/things to include.
They’re both linked from the ‘pages’ tab at the top of the page, as well.
Part four of my thoughts about seekers and what I pay attention to is attention to detail.
This is the one I wanted to talk about last (go see the others over here, earliest stuff at the bottom) because it’s the hardest to talk about. Sometimes, when someone starts talking about this particular aspect, it’s really easy to get locked into minutiae and details, and people feel oppressed and crabby because they don’t match up to some standard that’s not clearly defined.
So, first of all, I want to say: I do not expect anyone - not seeker, not friend, not covenmate I’ve been working with for 6+ years - to get all of this right. I do not expect myself to get every detail right. People are human, our memories are flawed, we have other things going on in our lives, and we will forget details every so often. Someone messing up on one is generally not the end of the world.
On the other hand, I don’t think that’s any excuse not to try.
What does paying attention mean?
In meeting someone new, or in approaching a group, there’s a lot of new information. Names. Remembering which name goes with which person. In Pagan settings, which name you use at which time, if people have a circle name.
There are issues of group structure (both the obvious stuff and the not-so-obvious stuff), how people treat each other, treat new members, treat the group leadership. Do senior members get challenged and asked questions about things that don’t make sense or seem inconsistent? Or are they ‘off-limits’ somehow? How do they respond?
There’s also all sorts of ritual details: doing structured ritual often involves keeping track of a lot of details. We did a new moon ritual last night, and while we were doing our circle set-up, I was struck by how many tiny details we were both tracking.
Everything from the physical set-up before ritual, to how we move around the (very tiny) space in my front room, so that L could cast circle, to how we hand around and place the small candle we use to light our other candles from. (In particular, we’re both attentive that when we’re lighting things on the main altar, the lighting candle goes to in front of the next candle to be lit. It’s a small detail, but it makes for beautiful flow.)
Paying attention means that you’re aware you’re getting all this new information. You may not recognise it all consciously, but you are aware there are things going on.
And when it’s clear that you are paying attention (and retaining much of what you see), your conversations with others can move further ahead, with new ideas, practices, opportunities, and interactions - rather than going over the same things again. I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather do new stuff than go over the old stuff more times, given the choice.
Acting:
Paying attention also means you can act on the information (at least so one hopes.) Walking into a room with a group you’re interested in working with: what do you need to know?
Preparation: It can be embarrassing to show up at a ritual where everyone else has brought potluck and you haven’t. Or where you aren’t sure who the person is you’ve been talking with on email. Asking a few questions and paying attention to the instructions in email can help you feel a lot more comfortable when you show up. That’s good.
Names: Getting people’s names right is a good step. It shows you’re trying. Me? I’m lousy with names, and therefore don’t use them until I’ve gotten them firmly in my head (which usually involves hearing them several times over the course of the evening, or both hearing them and seeing them in writing). I have various tricks to help me (my former group’s combo of having people fill out an info sheet and also talking to them works well for me, for example.)
But I also notice and appreciate people who get my name right. (Jenett. One n, two ts. Pronounced JEN-et, like Janet with a ‘Jen’ instead of ‘Jan’). People who spell it wrong in an email when it’s right in front of them do make me wonder. Getting it wrong won’t make me hate you or anything - but I do notice, and someone getting it wrong regularly has me paying attention to their other observation skills. I think it’s particularly relevant in Pagan settings, where many of us have chosen names that reflect particular parts of our identity or what we wish to become.
House rules: Pagan groups often meet in people’s homes, which have their own quirks. Is this a ‘take your shoes off before entering’ house? Should you feel free to get water from the fridge? Should you check before you use the bathroom? Hosts will hopefully indicate some of this up front, but it’s useful (and polite) to remember for the next time (or at least be proactive about asking.) This is just part of getting along in a community.
In ritual: Many groups or traditions or communities have specific ways they do things (and one hopes, reasons for those choices.) Which way we turn in circle, what we say to greet deity or other entities, how we share blessings with each other, how we share food and drink. Again, no one I know expects a newcomer to get this all at once - but paying attention and adding more things each time is a definitely good sign.
After ritual: If there’s a gathering for shared food or conversation, pay attention to how people interact, who you most enjoy talking to, how the group as a whole responds to one another. It can tell you a lot about the group.
How to help yourself:
Use resources: If a group has a website, printed material, or sends you info in email, keep it handy and make use of it. You may find a lot of your questions are answered there! If you need help with something, or it’s confusing, ask questions - but you’ll get definite points from me for looking at the information you already have first (and telling me you’ve looked at it: if I’m confusing, I want to fix it.)
Ask questions!: Very useful -and as long as you don’t keep asking the same things, shows that you’re looking to learn and trying to pay attention.
Let people know if you have a specific need: For example, a hearing impaired friend of mine who lipreads has a button she wears at large events, that says “I haven’t seen a single word you’ve said” - it helps start conversations and reminds people she doesn’t see often that she’s lipreading. (She’s also proactive about telling people what things help her.)
Same deal goes with how you learn: if learning stuff from material you read is really hard from you (and doesn’t stick), ask if there’s some other way to go through it, like talking through it with someone. I’m definitely willing to do that if asked, but I’m probably going to balance it with asking people to read on their own and discuss later unless I know that’s a problem.
These things reduce wear and tear on you - and on everyone else. Again, it lets you get on to more interesting things faster.
Consider taking notes: Not just while you’re in a discussion (sometimes that makes sense, sometimes it doesn’t) but also when you get home. Did you have questions? Do you want to get to know someone better? Did you have a conversation you want to pick up on sometime? Is there something you want to remember to bring next time? Do you want to remember someone’s name? Write down the name and a few notes about them - things you talked about, what they looked like, whatever will trigger that memory for you.
Some people carry a little notebook. I’m fond of index cards - they’re cheap, easy, don’t take much space, and they’re fast to type up later if I want to keep the notes more than briefly. Whatever works.
I mentioned in my previous post on this topic that I wanted to follow up and talk some more about it.
Responsibility and follow-through are things I pay early attention to because they continue to be important later. It’s not that I expect people to be perfect (and a recent, wonderfully illustrating story follows about that), but that over time, I want to be around people who take their interactions with others seriously, who recognise that time can be a precious commodity, and so on. There’s a couple of reasons for this.
A personal quirk (and digression to explain it)
For those of you familiar with Myers-Briggs personality typing, I am an incredibly strong J. For those of you who aren’t, this basically means I like things scheduled and time-defined (I do better with defined due dates, too.) And I always, but always, have more things I want to do than time to do them in. By large numbers. This means that unplanned for schedule changes, or ‘wasted’ time in which I could have been doing something else if I’d known in advance, tend to cause me greater discombobulation than most people.
Over the years, I’ve both developed better coping skills, and become a little more flexible. I can, for example, schedule time with a friend without fretting about precisely what we’re doing at each stage. And with close friends, I’m also increasingly comfortable with spontaneous invitations or changes. (”Hey, do you want to come in for tea?” turning into 3 hours of conversation, which is a tradition with L now.)
Coping skills, in case it helps someone else, include:
- spending most of my time with people who either work with this quirk of mine, share it, or generally tend to be respectful of time and energy. When 75% of my free time works this way, it’s easier for me to tolerate more spontaneous plans or deal with someone else being late or less time-centered.
- if I’m meeting someone somewhere other than my home, I make a point of bringing something that will help me feel I got stuff done if they’re late. (This might be my current book, notes I’m working on that can be easily put away, my drop spindle and spinning.)
- scheduling enough time on my own when I can work on larger projects in bigger blocks. I tend to be happiest if I have 2-3 nights a week at home without any particular time constraints (other than when I need to be in bed) so that I can do things for a 2-3 hour stretch if needed. If I have to pay attention to something (even as simple as baking or a phone call), it can feel more constrained, and doesn’t really count toward the weekly total.
Even with this, you will still see me paying attention to time even on a ‘day off’ than most people do. It’s worse when I’m otherwise stressed about something or other parts of my life are a bit out of kilter even if the something is not time related. I was out a couple of weekends ago, and noticed I was far more time-centered than I usually am: fortunately, the friends I was with get this, and put up with this particular quirk (with a little bit of teasing.)
Back on topic:
How does this apply to Pagan groups? Well, in this case, any Pagan group I’m involved with obviously involves me. This goes even more for a group that I’m leading (as is the case in the shiny new coven).
So, when looking at prospective new members, I do pay attention to these things.
- Are we having ritual? I want to make sure they show up (or cancel in advance) so that we’re neither waiting for them or having to scramble for a last-minute alternative if they don’t show.
- Are we going to go somewhere together? I want to have more time at the activity, and less time in the ‘waiting for them to show up’ part of the day.
- Do we have a list of things we want to get done? I want to use my planning time well: if someone’s especially late or unprepared, some of my preparation time probably wasn’t needed (and I’ll have to review it again, before the next time we talk, to be ready then.)
But there are other parts of this, that go far beyond my own personal quirks.
First of all, any time one person is late to a group event, the entire group either has to wait or go ahead without them. The latter can be tricky in some ritual situations or spaces (as a late entry can be disruptive), but the former is also a problem. If we’re doing a working on a weeknight, people will need to get home and go to bed so they can work the next day. Some people may have other plans for a day after an event, or need to get home to a babysitter, or any number of other things: in this case, being on time is really a group courtesy.
But there’s also the issue of demonstrating responsibility. In my tradition, you don’t charge for training (though it’s permissible to request help with actual costs for items used during training, or space rental, etc.) At the same time, it’s appropriate for a student to show that they take what they’re doing seriously. Showing up, taking responsibility for their learning and commitments, and otherwise following through on what they’ve said they’d do are all big parts of this.
In a ritual setting, showing up mentally ready to take part in the ritual (rather than running madly around trying to get places) is also part of it.
More on ritual:
I’ve certainly done my share of ritual and classes where I was running around madly beforehand.
My worst example was last January, where I was working at a part-time library job until 5, had a friend I was driving meet me there, drove up to ritual, changed and checked up on the ritual within 15 minutes, and was ready to go 20 minutes after I got there. The ritual was actually fantastic, and it was one of my better jobs as priestess in my former group, I think - but it’s definitely not the way I want to do things. In this case, I cleared it with everyone beforehand, since I obviously knew in advance time would be tight, and they were fine with what I’d need to make it all work.
But really? That’s not the way I want to do things. One of the things my covenmate and I have been talking about is about removing stress and discomfort from the immediately pre-ritual time, so that we can go into ritual relaxed, in a good mood, and not running around stressed. This is also an aspect of responsibility, in my book: if I’m running ritual, I need to set things up so I can do my best job (and so other people can do theirs.)
This leads to a bunch of choices:
- Elaborate ritual set-up takes time and energy. We’ve chosen to do a very minimalist ritual setup that takes very little time to do. (We can set up the physical space in 10-15 minutes of unflustered work, and take down in about half of that.)
- The only pre-prep is for the host to have a clean and tidy space (which we can plan ahead of time, based on our own preferences and schedules. I usually do a big clean a day or two before, and a tiny tidy the day off.)
- We also keep ritual workings relatively simple: they don’t require a lot of items or things to keep track of. The most complex was our Beltane working, which required embroidery floss, scissors and a few safety pins (All things we could put together in advance, and if we were missing some things, no big deal.)
- We do invest extra time and energy in ritual and post-ritual food, but this is something that’s a distinct pleasure for both of us (and it’s very adaptable depending on our personal energy/time before a given event.)
In other words, we’ve identified our primary interests (how we’d like to have ritual and what we care about) and then found ways to take responsibility for both making that happen *and* being able to start ritual relaxed and comfortable when we get there. We think this is great.
Follow-through and when stuff goes oddly:
I promised a story. A few weeks ago, we scheduled the full moon for yesterday (Monday night), as my covenmate was going to be camping over the weekend (when we normally do ritual). Normally, I send out an email with a summary and reminder a week in advance - I totally forgot (life’s been a little odd for me).
In fact, I forgot we were meeting Monday until I looked at my calendar after she’d left for the weekend. I called her, left a message, and then baked bread on Sunday on the theory that bread is never bad to have in the house anyway. I didn’t hear from her (at which point, *because* she’s generally good about that, figured that they’d gotten back later than planned, or something had come up) and called and said “If I don’t hear from you by 6ish, I’ll assume we’re not getting together: want to reschedule for Wednesday (our planned discussion night.)
She did in fact call back after I got home from work, and we sorted everything out (for Wednesday). But even though this was a schedule glitch, I still feel we handled it responsibly all things considered: I managed to set up things so I wouldn’t be out an evening of doing other stuff if we changed plans, she got back to me promptly, we had an easy alternative that doesn’t put either of us out further. All good. Not ideal (in the sense that this happening all the time would be bad) but all good in the end.
What does it all mean?
Stuff happens every so often, and I’m as capable as flaking as any other human on the planet. (I might do it less, due to my organisational obsessions, but less is not never.) But what I really care about goes like this:
- I care how often someone flakes - but I care even more how they recover from it.
- I care how they communicate about glitches, and whether they leave me guessing.
- I care that they respect my time and energy - but also how they respect theirs (Are they totally overcommitted? That’s not sustainable or healthy. This is one I watch myself carefully for.)
- People are often on ‘best behavior’ early on. If they’re flaky or not responsible about basics (being on time, showing up, bringing what they need to do the work) the first few times, it’s probably not going to get better.
- Most of all, I care that someone respects the work we’re doing together enough to let us know if they can’t be there, can’t be on time, or something else is going on.
There’s going to be one more part to this - about initiatory and other oathed commitments, and how the responsibility and follow-through parts play into that.
Back to this ongoing series of things I’ve seen when dealing with Seekers. (You can find all the others by clicking on the Seeker tag.)
The next thing I look for is something I call ‘responsibility and follow-through’.
I taught the short series of intro/Seeker classes (a very general ‘What is Wicca/what is ritual/community etiquette/really basic daily practice ideas series of 5 classes) for the group I trained with for about 3 years (and I’ve helped on and off since then.) I also answered the group email.
For every 25 people who email, at least 15 of them never reply again, never make contact again, etc. This is totally normal: they inquire, we send some more info, it’s not what they’re looking for. That part’s fine. What has always interested me is the next stages.
Of those 10, about half explicitly say “Oh, I’m interested in [next class series]. I’ll be there!” - we’d ask for an RSVP to make sure we had enough copies/chairs/etc. We’ve traditionally sent out a reminder email a week or so beforehand, and sometimes another one closer in. Less than half of those who replied show up. (And I’ve been at several classes where *no one* who RSVPed showed up, and we had new people we knew nothing about there.
On one hand, this is no big deal in that setting. But it makes me wonder. Some of them do try again later - but you know, none of those people has turned out to be a fit for the group. It’s hard not to wonder if those things go together.
This is where stories from other Pagans come in. I’ve heard story after story from priests and priestesses who arrange to meet a prospective member at a coffee shop for an initial meeting, where the interested prospective member never shows. (And not only doesn’t show, but doesn’t call, email, or otherwise apologise.)
Why does this happen?
Good question - and it’s often hard to ask. I’ve heard various theories: that people inquired as a lark, and then got nervous. That people were interested, but something (maybe a relationship partner or friend) got them nervous about meeting a strange witch. That they’re interested, but not enough to actually make it into the car.
In the end, it doesn’t really matter what the reason is: all I can do is judge from the end result. If I show up, and the person I’m meeting doesn’t (and doesn’t have a decent reason), I’m unlikely to set up another meeting like that unless meeting them is absolutely essential *or* I’ve got a good reason to think that things have changed for them.
My time’s pretty precious - like a lot of people these days, I’m juggling a full time job (and one which can have some quirky time demands), chores and daily life stuff, friends and a social life, personal projects, my personal religious practices, and little things like reading and other amusements. I always have other stuff I could be doing with my time that I would enjoy or get me closer to goals that matter a lot to me.
Because of this, one of the most basic things I look for with anyone I’m looking at spending more time with is “Does this person get that they are not the only thing in my universe?” and “Do they respect my time and other commitments/interests?”
I admit I’m a fairly big stickler on this one - but I think it’s got some other interesting aspects, too.
Further down the road:
Work and training with a group is going to involve a number of things.
- Can this person show up for scheduled events, or do they keep others waiting?I don’t know about other people out there, but I’m sick of Pagan Standard Time. I want to start reasonably promptly, end at a sane time, and have time to hang out and spend time with my groupmates without dashing off. Ritual takes as long as it takes - but there’s a big difference between a 4 hour ritual that started on time and a 2 hour ritual that started 90 minutes after it was supposed to.
- Yes, meeting strange witches can be a little scary. But.Other parts of witchcraft training can also be challenging. If someone isn’t yet ready to deal with a well-controlled challenge (meeting in a public place, for a short time, and with no further commitment if it’s not the right thing), they’re probably going to have a hard time once training starts. (In this case, them not showing is a good thing: I’d rather figure this out very early rather than later.)
- Can they communicate?Stuff comes up for people - I totally get that. If I went to meet someone, and they weren’t there, but they sent an email promptly (say within the next 24 hours), I’d give them another chance. The point isn’t “Are they perfect”, but “Can they recover from an inconvenience to someone else” and “Can they communicate about what they need.”
I’ll have some more to say about this going forward, but I think this is a good stopping place for tonight.
In my last post, I talked about the issue of perspective. While writing it, I was reminded of several of my perspective-related peeves, and thought this was a good place to discuss them. When I say ‘peeve’, I want to be clear about what I mean. These are things that frustrate or irritate me personally. They’re not necessarily the same things that get anyone else. In many cases, one of these things showing up won’t significantly affect anything: if someone does them in a public discussion, I’ll be polite and thoughtful and move on.
The one place they do affect things is if I’m looking at possible small group work with someone - in which case, all of these are signs of things that might be a problem in the small group work I prefer to do. They wouldn’t make me automatically reject someone (except maybe the first one), but I’d be watching other behaviors very closely.
In other words: I think these things are worth some attention, but you only really need to worry about them if you want to work with me directly. (Or someone with my peeves!)
You’re my new family!
I’ve heard this too often from someone I’ve met only a handful of times - in a couple of cases, I’ve heard it in email, before she even met anyone in the group, including me. Connection - especially on a chosen-family level - is a two-way street. Blame it on British parents if you like, but me, personally? I’m pretty slow to make emotional connections to people. I’m glad to give people a chance, and see what they’re like, but I don’t want to be hurried.
Someone who says “You’re my new family” on the second or third meeting is rushing the process. They’re not allowing space and time for the feelings of the other people involved. This always makes me wonder what else they’re going to rush or ignore. (Check out my last point for how this applies to comfort.)
You’re going to accept me, right?
This is a fairly standard issue - some people assume that just because they apply to a coven or small group, they will be accepted. Of course, that’s not true - any small group, no matter how wonderful, has a size limit (or it stops being small!) and it also has other qualities that may not fit everyone. Everyone needs to feel they can work with the new person in that setting.
Someone who doesn’t get this - or who pushes for a rapid decision - is missing a major point here. No one I know likes rejecting people out of hand. However, group leaders have a responsibility to the existing group. That includes taking time to make sure it’s a right fit, being honest about the possibilities, and being sure they can fulfill their commitments. (For example, someone might be a fantastic fit for the group, but if the group leaders have a major change in their life that limits their time - a health crisis, a change in work hours, etc. - it may be a bad time to add new members.)
It’s scary to take that risk - but someone with perspective about the process will be better able to handle it and the outcome. If this is not the right place, time, or group, there are other options.
I don’t need to start at the beginning! I’ve been doing this for years!
The group I trained with has a standard process for new prospective members: a series of short Seeker classes (5, over a 10 week period) that cover basic information about Wicca, witchcraft, and our local community, as well as our group. The idea is both to provide information to the broader community, and also to let people see if we might be a good fit. (Seekers in these classes are welcome to come to group rituals open to guests, and to some social events.)
Every so often, while answering the group mail, I’d run into someone who said “Well, I have all this experience, can I skip those?” This tells me a few interesting things.
1) The person is assuming they won’t learn anything.
Personally, I learn new things every time I teach the classes (which I did for 3 years, and still chip in with sometimes) because of the way people ask questions. More than that, someone who isn’t open to new ways to look at information may not be a good fit for a teaching circle. Also, while some of what we talk about is basic, and can be found in many books and other sources, some of it is about our local community (what’s out there, common local etiquette at public events, etc.) And some is about our group work, which is useful if you come to a ritual with us.
2) How do you define experience?
Part of these Seeker classes include a few simple quizzes and assignments. Watching someone during the classes is a good way to get a baseline for what they do and don’t know - and how they handle that. We’ve had people come in and take them who say they have ten or more years experience, who have trouble with information that is discussed at length in books they say they love, or who don’t know really common terms in the field. One year repeated twenty times is not the same as twenty different years.
When we see this disconnect, we’ve known that something needs more exploration (if that person is interested in continuing with us.) It might be that there are learning style differences or memory issues, or something else. A few times, it’s become clear that someone was exaggerating their experience and knowledge to impress us. Whatever the answer is, it’s important information.
3) Watching how we teach the classes tells a prospective member a whole lot about what the group is interested in.
That’s powerful information. Someone in those Seeker classes will learn that ethics is important to us, that we approach ritual in certain ways, and a lot about our personalities and teaching methods. Even if you don’t learn much new content, those things are important to group considerations - I certainly considered them worth 15 hours of my time. (2 hours of class plus travel time.) because they gave me a good sense of group function and emphasis.
I don’t want to be uncomfortable.
I hear this a lot - especially in online communities. While I get where it comes from, it also puzzles me. Much of religious witchcraft, in my experience, focuses on productive discomfort: learning how to poke at what concerns us or limits us, so that we can focus change appropriately.
I’ve described it as self-triggering oneself to learn: we find where it hurts, and poke at it until we understand it better, or until it no longer has that power over us. This is a complex and sometimes difficult process: it’s hard to do in isolation, and it takes time. The results, though, can be truly transformative.
If we shy away from particular topics, approaches, or practices *solely* because of discomfort, we’re giving up a really powerful tool. (Avoiding these things because of one’s ethics, explicit commitments, or personal choices is a different thing.) What I want is to work with people who, when they become uncomfortable say “Why is that?” and who when they are comfortable say “Why is this so comfortable for me?” Both produce change - but they do demand self-awareness and a certain amount of bloody-mindedness.
Another in my continuing series about seekers and what I personally pay attention to is the question of perspective. Like courtesy, perspective can mean different things to different people, but there are some ways it manifests in the Pagan community that I see regularly. Keeping perspective about these things goes a long way.
What does perspective look like?
Patience:
Someone with perspective expects that finding the right group for them might take time. just like finding the right job, or the right romantic relationship. They know there are things they can choose to do to help the process along. At times, they may decide to back off for a time, so they can focus on other areas of their life.
Someone with a lack of perspective might expect a group to fall into their lap right away.
Background knowledge:
Someone with perspective will understand that there are many different Pagan paths out there. Many people feel drawn to one or two. Perspective means that they will learn a little about those paths before racing down them, and will think about the best ways to reach the goals they want.
Someone with a lack of perspective might try out several paths in really rapid succession (like a new path every month), or make decisions based on just one or two resources. (This is what’s sometimes referred to as IRAB Paganism - “I read a book”.)
Peace with the past:
While some people come to Paganism without any other formal religious background (and some of us, these days, were raised Pagan), many of us were raised in other religions. This is absolutely fine - but running from one religion into another can be hard on everyone around you (and hard on you too.) Someone with perspective will take time for reflection, and to make sure they’re choosing their new path deliberately.
Someone who is lacking perspective might pick a path out of reaction to a previous one - and might pick it for reasons that don’t actually apply to that new choice (they just think they do.) For example, some people assume that because individual groups in traditional Wicca are autonomous (there’s no central authority), that Wicca can be anything you like. That’s not true.
Asking questions:
Once someone with perspective finds a possible group or teacher, they will ask questions. There are many places to start, but some excellent ones are listed in an article from called 12 Steps to Finding a Spiritual Teacher You Can Trust.
Someone without perspective might be tempted to skip this step, or be afraid to ask questions of their possible teacher.
Time and energy:
Someone with perspective will remember that a group leader has a lot of other things on their plate. They’re often working full time, balancing group life with their family, other interests, and their personal practice. Someone with perspective will understand that a prospective Seeker probably isn’t the highest priority for their time. They will do what they can to make it easier for the group leader to respond, and will be reasonably patient (at least a couple of weeks) for initial responses.
Someone without perspective might get frustrated if they don’t get an instant response, or if it’s not as welcoming as they hoped for.
The need for fit:
Someone with perspective will understand that there are many fantastic groups out there - but that not every small or focused group is going to be a great fit for any given individual. They’ll be interested not just in whether a group is doing the things they’re interested in - but whether they’re a good fit for the group. They’ll know that the group is also considering the same things.
Someone without perspective might want a group at any cost.
My next post is going to talk about a few of my perspective related personal peeves and frustrations, to give some other ideas of how these things might become an issue.
In my last post, I talked about there are some things I pay attention to when meeting Seekers. The first one I want to talk about is courtesy.
What is courtesy? People sometimes think it means formal manners - but I mean something more general, the idea of making the other person feel comfortable and at home in the conversation.
Different people and communities also have different standards of behavior or things they care about. My workplace is fairly casual in terms of dress, but it’s expected that people eat lunch together in the lunch room and do some other cordial interactions that aren’t as common in other workplaces.
When someone’s looking to enter a new community (as Seekers are), and especially when it’s one that is fairly small and close-knit, one of the things I’m interested in is whether they appear to be able to pick up the community’s culture and work within it. This doesn’t mean you need to all think the same way, or react the same way! It just means that you can navigate the differences without a lot of rough edges and drama. For example, if it’s courteous in a particular community to bring food to share to events, or to take off your shoes at the door, can you do those things without making a big deal about how, in your house, you don’t do it that way?
When I talk about courtesy, here, I also mean something very basic: a simple respect for the other person and their time and energy. It’s about paying attention to any preferences that are expressed. In a number of in-person Pagan settings, you’re either taking someone’s time away from other things they might be doing (i.e. asking a favor), or you’re sometimes even in their home. How you approach that definitely gets noticed.
Some courtesies that I definitely notice:
Names:
I admit, I have a hard time with names - and it’s even harder in the Pagan community, where we may go by several. Here’s some ways to make it easier…
- Start simple. When you send an initial email, or make an initial phone call, use whatever name you intend to use should you meet someone.If you use one name in email, and another in person, it can get confusing!
- People will tell you the name they want you to use for them. For example, if I tell you my name is Jenett, that’s the name you should use unless you hear otherwise, even though some of my friends may call me Jen or Jennifer (my legal first name).
- People may also tell you to ask for a specific name. For example, my group’s website mentions to ask for a specific (Pagan) name when calling my HPS’s number. This helps her figure out fast what someone is calling about
Titles:
I generally suggest avoiding titles (Lady, Lord, HPS/HP, but also academic degrees) in initial contacts and especially if you’re asking about joining a group. Why? They’re often simply not relevant. If we’re talking about a community event, either I know you (in which case you don’t need to use them), or if I don’t, you can explain your background far better in your request than by putting a title at the end of your email.
I’ve seen a couple of people include them on Seeker emails interested in joining a group. Honestly, in that context, they’re really not relevant. At the initial stage of getting to know someone, I’m a lot more interested in their name, why they’re interested in the group, and what they know about it already than I am in previous formal training. I’m also interested in whether we’re a good enough fit to move onto the next step. The degree, by itself, doesn’t tell me any of that, but a sentence or two about it in the email might.
Ease the interaction:
Assume the other person is a friendly but busy person. This is a pretty good bet for people who are open to approaches from Seekers in the Pagan community. Make it easy for them to respond to you. If you’re writing to them, keep the following in mind:
- Write in full standard English sentences. Avoid net speak (i want 2 B a witch). Many very capable priestesses and priests aren’t active online: some will discard a message like that without a reply.
- Proofread: it shows a nice attention to detail (I’ll be talking more about that in a later section.)
- They’re probably busy people. You don’t need to share your whole life story immediately: start with what they directly ask about, or immediate questions.
I like knowing the following in an initial email (it gives me an idea what to send back as far as information.)
- Where did you find out about this group?
- If there are webpages or other online profiles or information, have you read them?
- Why are you interested in this group in particular?
- Do you have any immediate concerns or issues that affect the normal next step (for example, if you know the next step would be meeting at a coffee shop, and you can never meet on Tuesdays or Thursdays, feel free to tell me that. It’ll save me listing off those dates.)
Other questions that might come up early on include:
- A brief (no more than 4-6 sentences) overview of your religious background - especially as it relates to why you’re interested in either Paganism or a particular path.
- What kind of time and energy you can devote to this right now, and on what kind of schedule. (Are you free on weekends? Weeknights? Do you work an unusual schedule?)
- What you’ve read, learned, or done on your own. (It’s not a bad idea to bring a list of books you’ve read, or remind yourself of any open rituals you’ve been at to an initial meeting, but you shouldn’t list these in an introductory email.)
Respect time and energy:
As someone curious about a new group or emailing out of the blue, you are *way* down the priority list for many group leaders. This isn’t because you’re a bad person - it’s just the reality of 24 hours in a day.
The group leaders I know need to make sure that rituals happen, that classes happen, that current students who need extra time that week get it. They need to go to work, and do their chores and make dinner, and have time with their families, their pets, and their own deity work.
Answering questions from seekers - many of whom disappear after one or two exchanges, never to be heard from again - is rightfully not at the top of the list. You can make things easier - and if you do, you’re likely to get positive notice.
- Learn what the standard process is. There’s probably a good reason it’s done that way. Don’t assume you’ll be an exception (but if there is some reason a particular method is a problem, let them know. For example, if you have hearing loss, it’d be fine to suggest an alternative to an initial phone conversation if phones are hard for you.
- Understand that you may not get immediate answers. Plan on 2-3 weeks before hearing back from an initial email (and don’t be surprised if it’s longer). It’s ok to email after a couple of weeks if you haven’t heard anything, but be polite and brief (a “I emailed you on X date: just wanted to make sure it didn’t get lost in the ether” with the previous message copied below works fine).
- Don’t put all your eggs in one basket: if you’re exploring different groups, keep reading, going to public events, and checking out other groups. It will help you make better decisions, and you won’t feel as frustrated while waiting to hear back.
If you decide something’s not for you:
No one’s going to be offended if you say “Not for me, thanks!” - but a nice “Thank you for having me” or “Thank you for your information.” leaves a nice impression. The Pagan community’s small: you may find yourself working on a larger project with the same people down the road.
Also, letting them know that a group’s not the right place for you means they aren’t left hanging (or expecting you) and can remove you from their mailing lists or other contacts. That’s to your benefit as much as theirs.
I’ve been thinking a lot about seekers recently. (People who are interested in a particular group or tradition.)
I’ve done a lot of teaching of my tradition’s introductory classes, and I answered the group email for over 4 years, which gives you quite a bit of experience (as well as hanging out in various discussion fora online.) I want to do a series of posts on things I tend to pay attention to in Seekers: I’m going to talk briefly about them here, and then expand on each in a longer post (with some examples and ideas about them.)
Initial impressions:
There are four things I’ve found that tend to catch my eye and make me excited about getting to know a prospective seeker better:
- Courtesy.
- Perspective.
- Responsibility and follow-through.
- Attention to details.
These four all can be shown - in smaller and larger ways - through initial email contacts, meetings, etc. They don’t require any previous knowledge of Paganism or any subset of it, and they don’t require any other particular kind of education, background, or experience. (Courtesy is perhaps the exception, but as you’ll see when I get to the explanation, it’s not what you might think.)
Later experiences:
Once I get to know them a little bit, there are a few more things that make me interested in long-term work with someone.
- Open to learning (on their own and in a group setting)
- Self-aware and mature in their seeking.
- Willing to participate.
- Low drama.