"Shadow Work" is Not What You Think It Is
Yes, you should be doing shadow work as a witch. But not for the reasons you think.
If you’ve been on the web in the last five years, you’ve heard the admonition that as a witch you need to “do your shadow work.” It is usually said with the kind of vibe that leads you to believe that this is sort of like eating your vegetables or changing the cat litter -- something that has to be done, whether we like it or not, and is really basically a chore.
But shadow work isn’t a chore.
It’s technically not even a requirement.
There’s no ancient grimoire that proclaims “Thou shalt do your shadow work.”
The historic figures of the modern witchcraft movement -- Gardner, Valiente, Buckland, the Farrars -- none of them talked about “shadow work.”
Shadow work in fact, isn’t even really a witchcraft practice.
The idea that we all have a “shadow self” comes from Jungian psychology, not from any craft practitioner. Jung himself never actually used the term “shadow work,” although a lot of Jungian concepts of therapy involve managing and integrating your “shadow.”
So does this mean that anyone who says that as a witch you must “do your shadow work” is full of shit?
Actually, no.
Here’s the thing -- witchcraft is not about purity of origin, or even purity of practice. The fact that the concept of “shadow work” is borrowed from Jungian psychology does not disqualify it from being a useful and even necessary practice for witches.
Most attempts at policing the “purity” of magical practice are a fool’s errand. The origins of many of our most beloved practices are often lacking in some kind of legit historical provenance. And even the best researched attempts at “restoration” are often nowhere close to being a full-scale reproduction of ancient magical practice. Often our attempts to link ourselves to “the old ways” are vague and based on very patchy historical record. The most honest among us (looking right at you, modern druidry) admit they don’t have the faintest idea what the ancients did, and that they are reconstructing based on spotty records of questionable veracity, UPG and vibes.
And even if we can assert that a particular school of witchcraft is brimming with authenticity because of its meticulously researched lore, the dirty little secret of modern witchcraft is that most witches who are members of a distinct magical tradition don’t exclusively practice the magic of their tradition. The fact that we know a system and have been initiated into it does not mean that our tradition is the only source for the magical tools we have or use. Even the most sincere initiate in the most reputable tradition, if you examine the magic they do on a day to day basis, is an eclectic practitioner who uses a lot of different types of magic.
That is not to say that we shouldn’t try to work with magical systems with integrity and consistency. Or that we shouldn’t care about the origins and history of our cosmology, our practices and our tools. We absolutely should. I consider “How to History and Why Witches Should” an essential unit in any Witchcraft and Wicca 101 series. Knowing how to evaluate source material and determine the historicity of a thing is important to having integrity as you practice the Craft. Because knowing where things come from, and who has used them before and how is vital to your ability to use (or not use) those things yourself. It’s astonishing how much bad history is out there in the Craft, and how credulous we all are when we’re presented with new lore. Witches need to do better with understanding the origins of their craft.
But being scrupulous about knowing the history of your witchcraft practices is different from inventing a history for a tool or a practice in order to make it more “witchy.” Witchcraft is first and foremost about doing what works to bend the Universe to your will. Unlike ceremonial magic, witchcraft is built on a certain amount of jury-rigging and winging it.
I often compare the differences between the two disciplines to the difference between cooking and baking. If you are engaged in ceremonial magic you are effectively baking, meaning you will be following a recipe that has precise combinations of ingredients and instructions that must be followed to the letter or else the whole endeavor will fail. Witchcraft is much more like cooking, which is much more tolerant of improvisation. How much oregano do I add to the sauce? I keep adding it until my ancestors whisper, “That’s enough, child.” In the end, witchcraft leaves lots of room for the use of tools and techniques that have no provenance other than it seemed like a good idea at the time.
To make the long story short, shadow work doesn’t need to have its origins in some ancient magical tradition for it to be useful, even essential, to good magical practice.
Why do I think shadow work is essential to good magical practice?
Because magic is not a safe substance, and we are all of us imperfect users. Consequently, I have found that engaging in a practice that is actively pursuing self-awareness and encouraging the compassionate management of our less-than-helpful traits is essential if one is going to have a prolonged relationship with magical practice.
Shadow work can contain magical elements and non-magical elements. A very basic thing you can be doing is having a therapist in your life in some capacity. Journaling is also a really good idea. There are any number of really great meditation techniques that help you connect with the parts of yourself that you don’t like and can help you create a better, more integrated and compassionate relationship with those parts. And yes, there are spells that can be helpful too. Shadow work doesn’t need to be complicated, but it does need to be probing, honest and consistent.
I tell every one of my students that they need to take up some kind of shadow work, because I have seen what happens when a witch ignores that work.
Magic is not a safe substance. What do I mean by that? It means that once you begin taking up magical practice, engaging in spellcraft and doing acts and rituals that place you “on the map,” as it were, in the otherworld, the beings of that otherworld notice you. And parts of you that are particularly sensitive to the influence of spirit will become activated. Spirit, the force that moves and enlivens the Universe wakes up in you and around you, and it’s heady stuff.
Magical practice, when it is being done well and in earnest, will make you feel things. It will require you to confront those feelings honestly. It will challenge your assumptions about yourself, and your relationship to the Universe and everything and everyone in it. You will need to be vulnerable in ways you never dreamed of. Whatever nuggets of unresolved emotional detritus may be lurking in your psyche, believe me when I tell you that you will have to deal with them. Magical practice will demand that you bring forth your whole self, and if you can’t handle that, for whatever reason, that will be on you. The reward if you can handle it is equally substantial, and daunting in its own right.
Bottom line, magical practice will change your life. How it changes your life will depend on how well you manage the issues it raises. And those issues are very often closely tied to your shadow self.
I’ve seen witches get so enamored of their identity as a witch that they start to devalue their mundane identity, to the detriment of their relationships and their well-being. I’ve seen witches fall prey to paranoia and fear that stems not from any actual threat, but from their own shadow self. I’ve seen people “get high on their own supply” and become arrogant and predatory, believing that their magic means they need not be accountable to anyone or anything. There are probably dozens of ways that messing about with magic can cause you to go to a mentally or physically unhealthy place if you aren’t being careful.
Responsible magical practice therefore requires that the practitioner also proactively engage in appropriate “shadow work.”
This shouldn’t be a surprise really. Some activities require you engage in self-care practices to make sure you are able to proceed safely. If your big hobby is mountain climbing, you’ll want to make sure you are doing the right things to acclimate yourself to high altitudes. If you’re a scuba diver you are careful to not dive and fly on the same day. That magical practice might require that one also pay attention to one’s mental, spiritual and physical health isn’t an outrageous suggestion when you think about it.
The good news is that “shadow work” isn’t some kind of mystical, deep practice that has its origins back in the mists of time that you have to decipher and endure. It’s the recognition that awakening the power of spirit in your life through magical practice is going to demand that you address your physical, mental and spiritual health, and acknowledge and integrate your “shadow self” with compassion and love. It’s not about ticking a box, but about developing care protocols that assure that you can sustain your magical practice for the long haul and obtain the best results.
Because the thing is, witches, you deserve to have your magical practice be a positive force in your life, and doing your shadow work is an excellent way to ensure that will be the case.
Blessed be, witches!