A Sorcerer’s Ego

One of my mother’s favorite things to tell me growing up was that I was selfish—for years, I’ve been reminding myself as a litany to think of everyone else, remember not to need much, remember not to need anyone for anything, not to take up too much space.

It’s a hell of a way to live.

The spirits have been gently pushing me on that topic. Maybe my favorite thing about the spirits is their ability to see a root cause instead of only treating the symptoms. False humility is a symptom of a whole lot of things, but generally that the person does not understand their position in the world.

One of the mambos I know, as a parting shot, reminded me that I have no need to earn my place. No one is going to kick me out of vodou, and whether or not people like me is only sort of an impediment to getting things done.

False humility, however, is a critical impediment to getting things done.

Anaisa, as advice, sometimes tells people to pretend they are the main character in a movie. I’ve always felt a bit critical of that advice, because I know I’m not the main character, I’m a character.

I’ve come around to it as advice, since I first heard it. I don’t particularly want the story or to imagine an audience, but the fact is that there’s not that many vodou priests. There’s a lot more people who need help than there are people offering it. The position is a chosen one, and the divine is well aware of our faults. We will all make it to the divine eventually, but while I’m in this position, I can’t be running around with the baggage of false humility—the litany of reminders not to take up space, not to act with any sort of authority, to be hyper-sensitive to criticism.

As I understand it right now, a healthy sorcerer’s (or witch, if it makes you happy) ego is a humble one: an ego well aware of the position, the privilege, and the need to make mistakes without flinching.