It's witch o'clock somewhere.
This Halloween, we're celebrating all the women who know their power. That's us, btw.
Abra Cadabra. Bubble bubble toil and trouble. Fee fi fo fum.
Can you feel it? Must be the season of the witch.
Not the pumpkin spice kind. Not the prefab Halloween costume hag cackling beside a cauldron. A witch is simply a woman who knows her power. She’s you and she’s me.
In an era drowning in puerile contempt, a witch radiates respect. For herself. For others, even those who scorn her. And for nature. She works with it, not against it, to heal. But make no mistake. Healing is not always a warm cup of tea. Sometimes she howls up a wind to knock down what must fall.
Throughout history, we’ve been called names. Sticks and stones have broken our bones. We’ve been burned to the ground. Yet we live.
Such is our power.
When destruction failed, a spell was cast to make us small. The weaker sex. A woman’s place, sugar and spice. Everything nice. Breaking these incantations is simple. Just notice grass pushing up through ground after rain. That arising, that’s us. Destined to flourish.
When the old, small, secret shames flare up, pull them to your lap and embrace them as the child you once were. Then release them. They’ve worked hard enough. Let them go play in the sun.
Now it’s our time. The witching hour, all day every day. So own your power. Enjoy it. Use it. You’ve earned it.
xo Jean
Jean Shields Fleming is the founder & editor-in-chief of Certain Age, a Substack top 100 publication in Culture. Her novel Air Burial was published by Carrol & Graf, and you can read an excerpt from her latest novel, All The Reasons Why.
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Image by Mihman Diganli