The Terrible Dangers of Nice

Inspired by events over the years within and outside of Paganism I'm tempted to write a book called ‘The 13th Godmother.’

A number of psychological/spiritual books are based on fairytale narratives following the journey of a young man or woman who experiences some kind of curse, makes mistakes yet overcomes all to become regent of their own life. The 13th Godmother - a witch, since fairies are pretty, benevolent creatures - curses the young innocent out of pure evilness. She reduces Cinderella to a drudge or attempts to kill Snow White or sends the innocent to a monster. She steals a baby and locks her up in a tower. She gives the little mermaid exactly what she asked for.

The witch character in the Sondheim musical Into The Woods tells the rest of the characters a little about themselves, their indolence, their greed, their need to blame someone for their problems.

Told a little lie, stole a little gold, broke a little vow. Did you?

Had to have your prince, had to get your cow, have to get your wish, doesn't matter how.

You're so nice, you're not good, you're not bad, you're just nice.
I'm not good, I'm not nice, I'm just right, I'm the witch. You're the world.

Paganism used to look critically at tales of ugly old witches and came to understand this character as the person who has the power to initiate; the person who lives beyond the mundane world; who manages to live in the worlds of the unknown and unknowable; who represents the deep magical power of the unseen and unspoken to whom people turn when they have no where else to go. Insult her at your peril! Particularly, don’t insult her intelligence. I can’t imagine why Sleeping Beauty’s 13th Fairy Godmother gets cross when the king says he couldn’t invite her because he only had 12 gold plates.

Well, Paganism in general has embraced the 12 younger sisters and rejected anything that isn’t light and airy and easy. We have a massive investment in Being Nice, of ignoring problems that many non-Pagans find astonishing and sometimes outrageous, such as some of our children behaving disgracefully, some of our men behaving boorishly and some of our women pathetically. What hope, then, of finding Pagans who can function as a Priestess or Priest, taking responsibility for the journey of another’s soul?

Here comes the wailing: 'The Pagan individual is responsible for their own soul! How dare you suggest otherwise!'

Whilst this is true, it is only true when things are going pretty well. If it is true, how do we account for Soul Loss? How do we align ourselves with the historical Druid? What on earth do we think we're doing when we light a candle for someone, or ask someone to light a candle for us? What happens when a person becomes unable to care for themselves? Pagan practice - as opposed to what we say - suggests that either such people are no longer Pagan or no longer worth thinking about.

Much of the investment in being nice has been pushed by Pagan authors who find that success brings a strange curse all of its own: they have to write books about how nice they are and how nice things should be because books about things not being nice - unless it’s voyeuristic - don’t sell. Druids never did that nasty human sacrifice. Witches only do nice spells. Shamans tiddle about in the Otherworld and never get lost. Too many write more and more unbalanced books and articles and blogs and overexpose themselves or else . . . well, they won’t die, but after so much investment in a public character it might feel like it.

There’s no point in challenging people. You get killed off and life has its own way of sorting things out. The beautiful Pagan boy who dances through life gets old and, having never bothered to do anything other than dance finds that when he can no longer dance he’s on his own. The fluffy Pagan girl, who remains a girl into middle age suddenly finds her life is a mess. The man who fashions himself on the Dagda finds he’s only put up with because his hospitality never ends, so he'd better keep doling out the goods. The group that is blinded through staring at the sun finds that all kinds of things they were told were going on, but which they ignored, have taken on monstrous proportions.

Not surprisingly, those of us who demand a little more find ourselves cast in the role of the Evil Witch. We aren’t invited to the Christening. We are treated with contempt for wanting to know how people who can’t control themselves believe they can control energies that are uncontrollable. Asking for sources of knowledge beyond ‘I saw it on the telly,’ means having to put up with opprobrium.

Groups and individuals have a terrible investment in straining to maintain their opinion of themselves. History suggests that the need to find a scapegoat is universal. Such is the genesis of the Ugly Old Witch.