Seasons of the Witch

Seasons of the Witch_DiversiTree

When I hear the song with the same title on the radio, it’s usually around Halloween complete with “witches” in pointy hats, black cats, and jack-o’-lanterns. Though I thoroughly enjoy that time of year, it is one of my favorites, it is not the only season of the witch.

Often people ask me what my spiritual path is. My answer is simple, it is seasonal. My life, my body, my mind, are intricately tied to the seasonal shifts; to the Wheel of the Year. As Winter comes to an end, believe it or not (it’s been a cold one in upstate NY), Spring will soon be upon us with a bouquet of opportunity to sow our seeds and to focus our intention on what we hope to manifest. Now is the time to put to rest the internal inventory that winter brings with it, the contemplating of the work done the prior year. Now is the time to retreat from the shadow world and back into the light, embracing the balance of both. For when we light a candle, we cast a shadow, having done the work of the winter, we now know what dances in those shadows as the light returns.

Each season does not exist alone. Each is bound to that which comes before and that which comes after, and that which is its opposite; a fluid gyre of growth as we pass through each one another year.

As I contemplate my 40th Spring, my 40th time experiencing bursting forth from a seed, I am not sure it gets easier for me to leave the blanket of winter, the deep roots I travel down, for as deep as I go, for as much as I grow, it takes that much longer to come back up to reach towards the sky. I like to tell myself, that by now, I know the way. Perhaps I do, but I also think I thoroughly enjoy the walk, the introspection, and so I slow down. What is introspection if it is not followed by good works, though? So I climb back up and stretch my arms through the dirt and feel the warmth of the sun on my fingertips and I get ready to bring more, to create more.

And so I introduce myself to you:


I Come from the Trees

Not the branches,
Swinging like a monkey
Though you may find
me high on a limb

On the edge,
Walking out, bending
To reach the ground
Or nestled

In the arms of the
Trunk. But really, I
Come from the dark
Places, the warmth

The roots
Under the Earth
A maze
of history.

The Ancient erecting
A pillar reaching
To the Stars.

~Christine Laplante


Christine Laplante, LMHC is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor and Sex Therapist who has been writing, providing counseling and teaching for over 20 years on connection, sexuality and communication.

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