Part II: The Witch at the Crossroads

If Part 1 of this series taught us anything, it’s that Halloween has a much longer history than 

candy buckets and inflatable skeletons suggest. Some of those older traditions have disappeared. 

Some were absorbed into newer customs. And some survived in ways that still feel recognizable 

today, especially in the traditions surrounding witchcraft, divination, magic and modern 

paganism.   

This is where things get especially interesting to me. I’ve always been fascinated by the fact that 

humans seem to have an almost universal need to find meaning in the things we can’t explain. 

We look at the stars, the seasons, dreams, symbols, cards and old stories for answers. Somewhere 

along the way, the witch became one of the most enduring figures tied to that search. Of course, 

the historical reality of witches is considerably more complicated than the pointy hats and 

broomsticks we’ve come to associate with them.   

The word “witch” has been used to describe everything from people accused of harmful magic to 

herbalists, folk healers, diviners and practitioners of various spiritual traditions. And while the 

stereotypical Halloween witch is largely a product of centuries of folklore and popular culture, 

the fascination with witchcraft itself is much older.   

Today, modern paganism has brought many of these interests back into the mainstream. It isn’t 

one single religion, and it isn’t simply a continuation of one ancient belief system. Instead, it 

encompasses a wide variety of contemporary spiritual traditions, some inspired by ancient 

religions and others developed much more recently.   

For some people, that means celebrating the changing seasons and nature. For others, it involves 

ancestor work, ritual, astrology, divination, or honoring particular deities. One deity in particular 

has always caught my attention: Hecate. Hecate was an ancient Greek goddess associated with 

magic, witchcraft, the night, crossroads and transitions. She was also connected with thresholds, 

the places where one thing ends and another begins. That association feels fitting to me.   

A crossroad isn’t necessarily frightening. It’s simply a place where you have to decide which 

direction you’re going. Throughout history, crossroads have carried a certain amount of mystery. 

They were places where travelers met, paths divided and the familiar gave way to the unknown. 

It’s easy to see why a place like that would become associated with magic and the supernatural.   

Hecate is often depicted carrying torches, which I find particularly appropriate. A torch doesn’t 

make the darkness disappear. It simply lets you see a little farther into it. Maybe that’s what so 

much of witchcraft, divination and folklore has really been about all along: not necessarily 

knowing the future but trying to see a little farther into the dark.   

That brings me to another longtime fascination of mine: tarot. I’ve had the same tarot deck for 

about 12 years. By now, those cards have been through more phases of my life than some of the 

people I know. I read my cards almost every day. Not because I expect them to hand me a 

detailed itinerary for the future, and certainly not because I think a deck of cards should make my 

decisions for me.   

For me, it’s more like having a conversation with myself. Sometimes I’ll ask a specific question. 

Sometimes I’ll pull a card and see what it makes me think about. Sometimes the cards tell me 

exactly what I don’t want to hear, which is probably why they’re useful.   

And, if I’m being completely honest, it’s also a much more affordable way to see a therapist. 

That’s a joke, mostly. But there is something genuinely valuable about sitting quietly with a 

question, looking at the situation from another perspective and being forced to acknowledge 

what your own intuition may already be telling you.   

Tarot cards weren’t created for fortune-telling. They began as playing cards in Europe during the 

15th century, with their association with divination developing much later. Yet today, tarot is 

often treated as a quintessential symbol of the mystical. Some people believe the cards can offer 

insight into the future. Others use them as a spiritual practice, while some view them as a 

psychological or reflective tool. What fascinates me most is less about whether a card can predict 

exactly what will happen and more about why we feel compelled to ask the question in the first 

place.  

Humans have always wanted to know what comes next. We’ve thrown bones, read tea leaves, 

watched the stars, interpreted dreams, consulted oracles and shuffled cards. The methods change. 

The question doesn’t. “What’s waiting for me on the other side?” That may be why I don’t think 

the modern fascination with witchcraft, tarot and the supernatural is quite as strange as some 

people might think.   

We’re still doing what humans have always done. We’re standing at the edge of what we 

understand and wondering what’s beyond it. And perhaps that’s the real reason I love 

Halloween. Not because I necessarily believe every ghost story, every legend or every claim of 

supernatural ability. It’s because Halloween permits us to wonder. So, I’ll always choose a good 

mystery over a perfectly reasonable explanation. After all, where’s the fun in knowing 

everything?