Confessions Of A Daoist Witch - How I Got Here. Part Two

In the first part of this tale, the books I mentioned by Fritjof Capra, Stephen Hawking and Brian Greene helped me shape the way I understand the Universe. The Tao of Physics helped me understand that science and spirituality are much closer than we think.

Not long after reading these, I discovered Laurie Cabot’s book, The Power of The Witch. It sounds simplistic but it’s true. Suddenly, everything made so much more sense. Laurie Cabot understood science, quantum physics, eastern mysticism, western esotericism and the common thread that united these principles and the energy field that connected us to this power. Lynne McTaggart’s book The Field, The Quest for The Secret Force of The Universe, touched on a lot of the same points and was the topic of many interesting discussions in my online coven, but Laurie’s book helped me solidify what remains my core belief: A higher power doesn’t run the show. The show IS the power. And this is the Dao.

My first spiritual walkabout was profound, enlightening and had a lasting, positive impact on my outlook and my core beliefs. I began combining Daoist principles with western esoteric practices, all with a practical and pragmatic approach. I had a solid network of support from my online coven, formed ten years earlier, which complemented my solitary nature. I was perfectly content for several years.

Then I discovered yoga. I’ve never been athletic, or even particularly physical but I’d always been flexible and the idea of combining movement, breath and spiritual contemplation was appealing. I completed 30-day yoga challenges, I flew my crow, I did the splits (mostly). I read tarot at studio mixers and events and taught my first tarot students at weekend workshops. Within the tribe of yogis, I found the Goddess Worshipers. They liked me and asked me to join them. Mistakenly thinking they must also be witches, I happily agreed.

They weren’t witches. They weren’t Wiccan, but they appropriated a few aspects from that religion. They were like a high-school clique with lots of wine, copious amounts of glitter and unlimited drama. Our gatherings consisted of New Age positivity mumbo-jumbo, incomplete and incorrectly cast circles and zero respect for boundaries either during the ritual or outside of it. The group leader refused to allow herself to be called High Priestess, but she still ran the show, nonetheless. Like the others, I allowed myself to be caught up in her enthusiasm, her glamour, and her clever biting wit (did I mention, there was a lot of wine involved?). She was a master of her craft and her superpower was bringing people together to perform for her enjoyment. Everyone thought they knew her; everyone thought she was their friend. Everyone was wrong.

The group eventually disintegrated, with only a few of us keeping in touch. I met some wonderful people and managed to hold on to a few significant friendships. This was a spiritual walkabout of a different sort. I learned a lot about myself with the most important lesson being that I was capable of behaving like someone I didn’t particularly like.

But life trolls on, as it is wont to do and one day, I received a newsletter from the Houston Jung Center. I’d never been there, never signed up for their email list but there it was, announcing that part of their summer learning series was a workshop titled They Mystic Path of Daoism. Hello, full circle. I immediately signed up for Spiritual Walkabout Number Three.

The instructor’s name was Lao Zhi Chang. He was over six feet tall, in his early 40’s, boyishly handsome with an affable and goofy nature. He was also most definitely not Chinese by descent. Orphaned at the age of six, Lao (the name given to him by his master) was raised by Buddhist monks in an underground temple in San Francisco until he was 18. At that time, he joined the Navy and traveled the world for over 20 years, both as a soldier and Wandering Daoist. He walked the path of the mystic, studying with shamans and priests and an array of other spiritual leaders from both the eastern and western mystery schools. A Jungian scholar, Mason, Templar, Daoist Abbott with a degree in Chinese medicine and an uncanny ability to relate to anyone he met on their level, I’ve never met anyone who knew as much about everything, as he did.

About halfway through the workshop, I applied to study with Lao. During our interview he gave me the warning that I probably didn’t want to do this. Despite the warning, I was accepted into the program and informed that once I began on the path, I must remain. I thought he meant through the three-year course and welcomed the challenge to finish something (I’m a procrastinator with no follow-through, remember?). Silly me. This was when I first realized that I knew nothing at all.

From that point on, I received quarterly lessons, exercises and reading lists, and attended meditation sessions on Wednesday evening and Saturday morning. These meditations were like no other I’d ever experienced. We didn’t sit on cushions with our eyes closed, listening to drums or pan flutes. Lao talked the entire 90+ minutes, taking us on a journey through our psyche, exploring parts of our minds we seldom used and challenging our beliefs in just about everything. He pushed buttons, he played devil’s advocate and sometimes he became the devil himself, just for the fun of it. He showed us what it was like to love unreasonably and to see ourselves in everyone around us. My training also required quarterly check-ins before progressing to the next lesson. I never knew where that time would take us. Even mundane chit-chat held deeper, esoteric messages that would become clear sometimes weeks later. One afternoon we spent the better part of an hour silently watching a clear blue sky fill with mackerel clouds. I'm pretty sure we manifested it but couldn’t tell you which one of us was responsible. That was the day he gave me a small Marseilles tarot deck he’d kept on his altar. He told me he’d received it from a Romany woman he met somewhere in Eastern Europe. It is now one of my most prized possessions.

Last year, at the age of 47, Lao was diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer and left his physical body two months later. Throughout his treatment, even after a stroke that left him suffering from aphasia, he continued to teach and mentor his students. Lao had always supported and encouraged my ‘witchy’ nature because that is my Dao. In addition to his other skills and expertise, he was a Hermetic adept, and we spent several weeks exploring theurgical realms through guided meditation and study.  We often discussed The Morrigan with whom we both had an intimate connection. By this time, I’d completed my first three years of Daoist study, ordained as a Daoist priest, and was well into my second three years, during which I was to focus on following my Dao. I was to return for another three years of direct study with him at the end of my second term. That could be interesting, given our multiple dimensions. I’ll keep you posted.

The final months of my first three years coincided with the covid pandemic and the explosion of the online communities in a way that really brought people together. It also brought Laurie Cabot into the world of online teaching, allowing those of us outside of Salem the opportunity to study under her. She presented at the online conference WitchCon and when I discovered she was teaching both Witchcraft and Tarot online I didn’t think twice. She was 88 years old at the time and I wasn’t going to let the opportunity to study with her pass me by. In addition to being an ordained Daoist priest, I became a Cabot Witch and later, Cabot Priestess. I also hold a certificate in Psychic Tarot in the Cabot Tradition. Spiritual Walkabout Number Four had commenced.

One of the cornerstones of this tradition is a weekly gathering at the Crystal Wheel. A psychic destination was constructed 700 feet above Salem, MA by Laurie Cabot’s coven in the 1970s. To this day, Cabot’s still convene at 10pm every Thursday night to conduct their healing work. In Lao’s final weeks, one of my Cabot family sent me a link to a piece of meditation music he’d found and greatly enjoyed. Later that evening, a Thursday, I put on the music and began my journey to the Crystal Wheel. With no idea where I was going, I stopped and picked up Lao and brought him with me. The Wheel was dimly lit, and felt like a venue does after a concert, only a few people still milling around, someone sweeping up. Laurie was there, sitting alone in the shadows. I walked over, introduced her to Lao and left him with her. I understood they had things to discuss that didn’t concern me and my purpose that evening had been fulfilled. I knew they’d see each other back safely. My worlds had come full circle, like a helix.

Lao’s final lesson to us was his most profound. He walked his talk and continues to do so, as we’ve all experienced reinforcement of his teachings at one time or another in the months since his death. He’s a Wandering Daoist, once again and he’s left his stable of priests behind to continue his work. It’s a tall order; we’re all doing the best we can, which overall is turning out surprisingly well. I like to think he’s not surprised.