It wasn't witches that were burned

I laughed as me and my three best friends and I walked through the doors of the “Psychic” we were going to see. The room had a strange, sweet smell, dim lights, and strange pictures on all of the walls. Crystals were placed randomly on chairs and shelves, and I felt like I had walked into a completely different universe. My friends had been interested in the “woo woo” for a few years but I had not jumped on board the crazy train. The only reason I was in this place today was because Alisha was getting married, and this was her idea of a wedding shower – past life regression. Seriously? But I decided to be a good sport and have some fun with it.

Palmera was not at all what I expected a Psychic to be. She was a stunning brunette with eyes so clear blue that they looked as though they could see deep into your soul. She was tall, curvy, and divinely sensuous in every movement she made. Her smile was warm and inviting and made you trust her instantly. She was everything you could imagine a Goddess would embody. Her voice was smooth and calming as she welcomed us into her space. She used a large round drum around us and told us the vibrations would cleanse us before our sessions. I was beginning to get nervous. This was not feeling like a joke anymore, it felt real, and I was not at all prepared for that.

Palmera asked Alisha to have a seat in the back room and set out tea for the rest of us while we were waiting. We could hear faint sounds from the back but could not make out any words. We sat in almost complete silence for the entire hour Alisha was back there. I think Juanita and Judith were a little more nervous than they had expected as well.

“Oh my God!! That was the most amazing thing I ever done!” Alisha rushed out of the back with a smile that lit up her whole face. “I was a princess! I always knew I was royalty!” She laughed and spun herself around. “It was like I was there! I could see, taste, and feel and hear everything! I had kids! 4 of them!” Her excitement shook me out of my nerves as I stood up and hugged her. I could not have been more excited for her! Her joy filled the room as we listened to her recount her vision.

It was my turn next. The nerves returned as soon as Palmera called my name. I felt a slight wave of nausea as I sat down in the chair. I smiled and tried to act ok. “Yours will be a very different story sister of my heart. Now breathe.” Palmera looked more mysterious now I tried to keep watching her but as she spoke my eyes got heavier, my breath deeper and I drifted….

The fog swirled and licked at my feet as I stood looking into the horror in front of me. The smell of death so pungent it had my stomach heaving. Tears rolled down my cheeks. They were dead, all of them. Dead. Floating in the putrid water. My family, my parents, my siblings and their families, my husband. All dead. Even the children. They had killed them trying to find me, hunting me. A sound came out of my throat that was not human, it was pain and anger and fear all moving through me. They tortured them and drowned them. I frantically began pulling them out one by one my stomach heaving, my heart breaking. They were bloodied and broken, limbs cut off, heads smashed in, and eyes gauged out. I fell to my knees with tears burning my eyes, I could not catch my breath and I could not find my daughter. My Emma. She was not with them. Had she escaped? She was only 3 and I knew deep in my soul that she had not. They had her and they would keep her until they had me. Until they killed me. Until they burned me at the stake.

It was not witches the church burnt, it was women. It was me. I screamed and howled at the now full moon above me, knowing that the hunters were close by, watching me, eager to have their ceremony, their celebration. So proud of themselves for torturing and drowning the innocent, for kidnapping and torturing a baby and the grand finale – catching me. They would tie me up and burn me at midnight, they would cheer and celebrate the murder of the witch all the while believing that they were the righteous, the good, the saviors. They would go home and believe that they had done the work of God, the work of the church and they would sleep sound without any guilt or shame, being certain that they had remove evil from the world.

I laid down on my mother’s cold chest and sobbed in surrender. I heard them come for me, I just let them take me. I had no fight left, no love, no life. I only wanted to see my daughter. Until I saw her. Rage. Blinding, red hot rage burned through my heart, through my soul. My baby. My 3-year-old baby screaming and crying for me to save her! They had her hung up by her wrists…ready to burn. They held me in front of her as she screamed for me. “Mommy! Mommy! Help me! I am scared mommy! “ I screamed and I fought, I bit and stomped and clawed but I could not save her. They lit the fire and cheered as a baby was burned alive in front of her mother. The crown chanting with glee “burn the witch, burn the witch!!” And I died right there. My soul left my body with Emmas. They carried my limp lifeless body to the second burning pile and tied my arms above my head. The crowd was disappointed that I no longer fought, that I no longer screamed in agony, so they began brutally throwing rocks and sticks at me. I don’t know how long I hung there before my physical body died, I don’t think I was alive when they started the fire. I stared blankly at the pond in front of me, the fog still swirling around my family and watched as the “good people” stomped on their bodies and chopped of their heads and marched around with them on spikes.

I was not a witch. I was a beautiful, sensual woman. I loved to sing and dance and cook. I loved my family, and our gatherings were filled with joy, fun and laughter. I loved to create and learn and to celebrate. I was loved, I was cherished, and I was envied – and that envy turned into jealousy that turned into hatred – and that hatred led to an entire family being massacred. Who were the real monsters? Where was the real evil?

I came out of my regression with a scream stuck so deep in my soul that I was gasping for air, my skin was hot and cold at the same time. I cried, I howled with the pain I had felt. My friends rushed through the door and held me, cradled me and I sobbed. Palmera brought me a tea and sat me up right. She had seen it all with me, she knew it all, she felt it all.

My brain and my heart could not comprehend the trauma. I felt broken as I drank the tea and listened as Palmera gently told my friends what had happened. She gave me space and time to integrate it all.

“Women are all witches – according to the churches definition,” Palmera spoke gently “The essence of the divine feminine embodies all that was considered witchcraft.” She sighed and continued, “beauty, sensuality, music, dancing, ceremonies, gatherings, healers, herbalists, intuitives, and psychics are all natural parts of the feminine. Anything magical, mythical, mystical, creative, emotional, any connection with nature, healing arts or teaching was deemed witchcraft.”

I shuddered. The absolute insanity of all of this was almost impossible to relate to. Impossible to wrap my head around; the fact that women had been so cruelly treated because of fear. Fear, envy, jealousy, and the need for control. And controlled we have been, as a collective for centuries – all because we were afraid to be burned at the stake, stoned, drowned, or betrayed. It turned women against women and created separation among us. We either feared or envied – either way destroying each other’s light, each other’s essence, each other’s faith. It is time now for the divine feminine to speak, to love and to unite. It is time to quit living in fear. It is our time.