I was thinking back on my practice, reflecting on what it was like to be a newly dedicated witch. It was the early summer of 1990 and I had been practicing, secretly, for almost three years before I finally made contact with another pagan. In those days it was difficult to find other witches in my part of the country. We didn't have the Internet and metaphysical bookstores were few and far between and catered mostly to the "New Age" shopper.
I had written a letter to DJ Conway, author of Celtic Magic (a paper back small enough to hide from my parents) in care of Llewellyn Books. To my surprise and delight, I received a personal reply from DJ Conway - who turned out to be a resident of my native Oregon! I carefully hid the letter inside my shirt and slipped out of the house, eagerly opening it and reading the correspondence away from the prying eyes of my Christian parents. The letter has been lost to the sands of time, along with my memory of its contents. What I do remember is that it was six pages of hand-written correspondence - and it touched a young witch enough that I read it twice before tucking it away.
Times have changed. Witches are easier to find, there are covens sprouting up everywhere. You can log onto websites like The Witches' Voice (www.witchvox.com) and connect with other pagans in almost any area of the world. My parents (who are missionaries and elders in their church) know that I'm a witch, and that young inexperienced practitioner has grown up to have students of his own.
The one thing that hasn't changed is the need for a sense of community. It's something that I longed for then, and is still something that I dream we will one day create. We pagans are still a secretive bunch and very isolated, even from each other. I know of six covens in my local area and yet I meet long-time solitaries on a regular basis that have searching for a group and can't even find even one of these five.
From a magickal perspective, covens need to be part of this movement. As a cohesive group, we already represent what we want the larger community to be: a closely-knit collection of individuals whose diversity is celebrated and who we trust to know both our identity and our path. There's sympathetic magick involved in sharing the energy we've already created. Here in my native Pacific Northwest, there's a coffee shop on every corner and the Craft is accepted enough that we can meet in openly in an "earthy" local coffee hourse. If each coven simply hosted a "meet and greet" night at a local coffee house, we would begin to bridge the gaps and bring us closer.
Simply meeting is not enough. Each person needs to come with a concrete idea of what they can give to a larger community. It can be an offer to teach, a skill with a sewing machine that can be shared, or even an offer to babysit. And those offers need to be accepted and acted upon.
This cannot be done by covens alone. Solitaries need to reach out to each other. If you have some experience, offer to share it. If you have a common interest, offer to study a book together.
If you're skeptical, ask yourself, "Would you turn out to have a cup of coffee and meet the members of a local coven? Would you rather study with another pagan than study by yourself?" Each little step we take will, in turn, create other steps. Slowly we will come together and bond as a community. We are already united by our beliefs. We already have the common ground. All we need to do is act.