🌑 So You Want to Join a Coven? What It Really Takes to Be a Dedicant
With the rise of aesthetic witchcraft and social media coven culture, a lot of folks see the sparkle but not the sweat. They imagine joining a coven is as easy as showing up in a flowing skirt with a crystal in their bra and a moon tattoo. What they don’t see is the actual commitment, discipline, emotional labor, and yes — financial investment — that goes into even being considered as a dedicant, let alone a full initiate.
There’s a difference between being witch-curious and being ready
to step into a coven. A real one. With lineage. With elders. With rules. Not a
meet-up group where people half-remember moon phases and pull oracle cards over
mimosas — but a working, breathing magical body with a soul, a structure, and a
sacred fire.
So let’s talk about what it takes to be a seeker — the very first
step on the path toward becoming a dedicant in a serious coven or
magical group. Because let’s be honest: a lot of folks want the aesthetic, the
drama, the title. Very few understand what it actually costs.
Spoiler alert: it costs a lot. Time. Energy. Discipline. And yes, money.
🕯️ Step One: It’s Not
Instant
You don’t just show up and get handed a robe. Most groups have a seeker
period — a probationary phase where you observe, learn, and prove you can
show up consistently. Sometimes it’s 3 months. Sometimes it’s a full year. This
is where you:
- Read assigned materials
- Attend public or outer-court
rituals
- Participate in discussions
- Observe group dynamics without
demanding access to the deeper mysteries
If you’re already asking about initiation before you’ve even brought a
candle to the circle, pump the breaks there, you can’t run before you can walk.
💸 Step Two: It’s Not
Free
Books, ritual supplies, robes, travel to gatherings, class fees, and
offerings all add up. Most traditional covens don’t charge for
initiation — but they also don’t subsidize your journey. If your teacher is
giving you hours of guidance, and you can’t even buy your own journal, that’s a
problem.
And let’s not forget: someone is footing the bill for the space you meet in,
the handouts you receive, the candles you use, the incense you smell. Lessons
don’t print themselves. Altar cloths aren’t conjured from air. If your coven
has a temple space or even just rents a hall, there’s a cost to keep the lights
on and the spirits welcome.
If the elders are preparing classes, designing rituals, copying pages,
making hand-bound booklets, or maintaining a private online space — that’s
labor. And magical or not, labor deserves respect.
Magic isn’t free. It’s an investment — and not just financially.
📚 Step Three: It’s a
Lifestyle Change
Being a dedicant isn’t something you do one weekend a month. It seeps
into every part of your life.
- You’ll be asked to keep a
journal, meditate, practice daily devotions.
- You’ll learn how to cast, ground,
shield, and not call on every deity you find on Pinterest.
- You’ll read foundational texts.
(And yes, in my coven, you’re expected to read well over 100
throughout your studies. This is from seeker stage to hiving off.)
This isn’t about memorizing chants. This is about embodying the work.
I had a woman in one of my early classes who refused to do any reading or
any assignments. She also couldn’t commit an hour a week to group study. Nor
could she come to full moon rituals. I’m not talking about 24/7/365. I’m
talking about 5 hours a month. After a year of study, she quit, citing she had
no room for advancement in the coven.
There were no mitigating circumstances. She had no small children at home
and her husband was a dedicated student. She just wanted accolades without the
work. Not in my coven. Ever.
🧿 Step Four: You’ll
Be Held Accountable
You’re not just learning spells. You’re learning yourself — and it’s not
always flattering.
Your teachers and coven leaders will call you out. With love, yes. But
with directness. There’s no room for:
- Ego masquerading as spiritual
sovereignty
- Flakiness being passed off as
being “too empathic to commit”, or “I’m such a Gemini”.
- Gossip, drama, or spiritual
bypassing
You’re going to be asked to reflect. To shift. To evolve. This is where
most dabblers run for the hills.
The first time I was held accountable for having the audacity to talk
over my high priestess, and to quote a book chapter and verse at her, I was
pissed off. I left and didn’t come back for a couple of weeks. When I did,
there were consequences. I cleaned the altar room floor by hand after every
working for the next full moon. I used a broom, a vacuum, a mop and then cot
down on my hands and knees and wiped it all dry. It was a lesson in listening
and humility. I will never forget it.
🌕 Step Five: It’s Not
About You
The biggest lesson in becoming a dedicant? Learning it’s not about you.
Yes, you matter. But once you step into a working magical group, you’re
part of something bigger. That means:
- Sometimes you do grunt work, be
prepared for consequences if you don’t.
- Sometimes you don’t get to be the
center of attention.
- Sometimes you hold the container,
not the wand.
This is community magic. Not personal performance. There is a time for
it, and if you’re in the craft long enough, you’ll know when that is.
🔑 Step Six: You’re
Not Owed Anything
Initiation is not a certificate. Priest/Priestess-hood is not right.
These are earned. And even when they’re given, they are the beginning,
not the end. Some people are never ready for that beginning. That’s ok.
You might never be initiated. You might never be high priestess. You
might never lead a ritual.
And that should not be the point. The point is the practice. The
learning. The unlearning. The transformation.
🕊️ Final Thoughts from
a Cranky, Loving Elder
If this all sounds intense — good. It should. This is sacred work.
If you’re truly called? You’ll rise to meet it.
If you’re not? That’s okay too. There’s room for seekers, solitaries, and
seasonal witches. But let’s stop pretending that being in a coven is just a
witchy sleepover with matching cloaks. It’s deep. It’s costly. It’s beautiful.
And it’s real.
Witchcraft isn’t just a path — it’s a practice. Coven work isn’t cosplay,
it’s community. And being a dedicant? That’s not just lighting candles. That’s
stepping into a lineage. A legacy. And a lifelong commitment to transformation.
So light your candle. Read your damn books. Wash your chalice. And show
up.
We’re watching. We’re waiting. We’re ready when you are.
We see you. We’re rooting for you. But this path is built on mutual
effort — not magical entitlement.
What Your Coven Leaders Wish You Knew
- We’re not Amazon. If you ask for resources, expect
to go find them. If we give them to you, that’s a gift of time and
trust.
- Showing up late or canceling last
minute matters. We built ritual space for you. We cleared our calendars.
Respect that.
- We notice who offers to help and
who doesn’t. Chairs don’t stack themselves. Brooms don’t sweep altars alone.
- We’re not getting paid for this. We do it out of love. Out of
tradition. But don’t mistake that for an obligation. If you can't pay dues
to keep things like ritual supplies and teaching supplies stocked, or even
the ritual space rented, don't expect us to.
- Ask questions, but also listen. Listening is a magical act. So
is patience.
- Don’t expect advanced teachings
if you can’t master the basics. Shield. Ground. Meditate. Read. Practice. Repeat.
We see you. We’re rooting for you. But this path is built on mutual
effort — not magical entitlement.
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