There are certain moments in life, events that bring changes so profound that your life is altered forever. Sometimes they are sudden flashes of light, as if the very fabric of reality has been torn away and a new world begins to spill through. But then there are moments when it is a subtle feeling that slowly grows, that seeps into your being with whispers of intuition that are finally confirmed by a home pregnancy test.
You see, I'm going to be a father. It's an adventure I'd dreamt of my entire life, a quest perpetually put on hold by fears and uncertainty. Would I be good enough? Would I make the right choices? Would I give a child the nurturing environment it needed to grow without smothering it by caring too much? But as I looked at the test results my wife held in her hand, I realized that the questions no longer loomed ahead. Somehow, in that instant of realization, of knowing that we would be bringing a child into the world, all of the fears, all of the uncertainty slipped away. It was no longer a journey I was afraid to take; it was a quest I had already begun.
Being a witch immediately complicated the entire endeavor. My in-laws are wonderful people who have stepped away from religion after a unpleasant experience with the Catholic Church. My own parents are devout Pentecostals; my brother a strong Protestant. While my own family knew that I am a witch, my in-laws do not. A thousand questions immediately appeared. How do we tell them? How do we make both families an active part of the child's life, without welcoming them into our beliefs with openness and honesty? How do we convince my parents that raising a child pagan is the right thing to do, that attempts to convert to Christianity before the child is old enough to choose its own path would not be welcome?
My wife and I wrestled with these questions, looking for easy answers, for a solution that would simply present itself. As I stood in the examining room, listening to my unborn child's heart on the fetal heart monitor, the sound so strong, so filled with life, my answers began to present themselves. As I watched my baby on the sonogram's monitor, her hands crossed before her face as we peeked at her with waves of sound, so many answers simply appeared, a part of the three of us, of the family my wife, my child, and myself had become.
As a pagan, I revere all life. As a witch, I seek to understand and fully experience each and every moment. The things that are important to me aren't the spells and charms that Hollywood seems to think we focus on, but rather the unfolding of life around me, the discoveries I make as I grow and learn to see the world through new eyes. In the sound of my child's heart, in my wife's ecstatic smile that mirrored my own, I saw the beauty of the Craft reflected before me. Here, undiluted and held for the entire world to see, was the magick that I believed in, that strengthened bonds between loved ones, that filled the world with enchantment. Where once, I simply found my inspiration in watching the seasons slowly turn, I would now see that same cycle of life in my child, watching as a new life slowly grows and learns, reminding me of steps of my own journey I've forgotten, teaching me new lessons that I could never learn on my own.
So, we took my parents out to dinner. Afterwards, we sat in their living room, speaking with devout Christians about the beauty and wonder we find being devout pagans. I was nervous and scared, not sure how my parents would feel, not sure how they would respond. But for the first time, I felt that they saw me as an adult, as a grown up who made his own choices, followed what his heart believed was right, and sought to be the best person he could be. And where I had once seen them as parents in whose eyes I would always fall short as I didn't follow the beliefs they so strongly believed were right, I suddenly saw them as equals, as other human beings who were approaching life the same way I was - searching for the answers to their own questions, and following what they knew was right.
I was concerned that we would focus on our differences, that I would be told that I should be in church, that I was going to go to hell. But instead, we focused on the beauty each of us finds in our own beliefs, on the similarities that appear in all faiths, in all beliefs. We talked of how we see the divine, of setting labels aside and viewing the sacred as something that simply is, that doesn't require a title or name. And my father, a wonderful man who I respect deeply and who will pray for my salvation until the day I die, actually smiled.
We talked of letting them take the baby to church, agreeing to let them show off their new grandchild to their peers. And my wife and I agreed to go too, understanding that just as they were a part of our lives and our child's world, we were a part of theirs as well. But what was more, my Christian parents surprised me with their open-mindedness and love for their family, agreeing to attend and participate in the naming ritual we will hold for the child on Summer Solstice, a ceremony that is promising to take members of many faiths and many beliefs and join them as one, united by the life of a newborn child.
The journey isn't over yet. My wife is slowly approaching the topic of our beliefs with her own parents. Just as she allowed me to tell my parents in my own way and my own time, I'm respecting her wishes to do the same with her own.
Each step we take, opening our hearts and our lives to the people we love has been a passage filled with beauty and wonder. I feel closer to my own parents than I ever have. For the first time, I'm able to share one of the most important areas of my life with them, not worrying what they will think. And the openness and lines of communication that we are developing with our families, are manifesting themselves in our own marriage and we're talking with each other about issues that are deeply important to both of us, finding the bonds of love between man and wife growing like never before.
I had always heard that a child's birth was a miraculous experience, that will forever change the way you see the world around you. For me, as an expectant father, my child has already changed my world, filling it with blessings I didn't dare to believe were possible. But I guess that's what I like so much about being a witch. Every day brings something new, whether it's a new insight into my own personal growth, or an event which alters my entire world.