The Witch Wound
My little black witch cat, Cassiopeia, studying homeopathy
When I was a young girl, someone asked me what I wanted to become. “A White Witch,” I said, a bright smile on my face—and people laughed. Twenty-five years later, I found myself studying in the UK, at an institute nestled in a place called Hogwards (yes, pronounced much like Hogwarts), learning the art of potions.
Throughout my life, I’ve encountered women with whom I share a silent knowing. A knowing that is instant and unspoken. We recognize each other immediately; small talk fades, and the conversation dives straight into the depths. How do you move through the unseen? How do I move? And how might we meet in that sacred space?
What fascinates me is that most of us move quietly, almost invisibly. A blend of humility and discretion, for those who come to us carry hidden wounds—stories too tender for the spotlight of Instagram. But also fear. Fear of being seen, of standing out, of being judged. Even though, by all measures, there is no danger. Most of us hold degrees, belong to professional associations, and meet all standards of practice. And yet… the fear lingers.
Where does this fear come from? It wears many masks: fear of fire, panic at the smell of smoke, fear of water, fear of drowning. But most often, it is the fear of being truly seen and rejected by the collective consciousness, of being cast out—or worse.
In homeopathy, we work with what are called the “witch remedies,” the Solanaceae. These include the mystical Hyoscyamus, Belladonna, Stramonium, Solanum, and Mandragora (yes, Harry Potter knew their secret!). Once known as hallucinogens, these plants were likely the origin of the tales of witches soaring through the night sky on broomsticks.
In practice, these remedies (and others) guide us into the hidden forests of the unconscious, helping us meet our deepest fears. They may touch the echoes of past lives, or the silent wounds of the collective unconscious. Step by step, the remedies gently unravel what has long been held in shadow, inviting release and transformation. Often tears flow, and a smile follows—the quiet joy of relief. The darkness makes way for the Light.
And it feels as if each step of individual healing lays a small stone on the path of collective healing, mending wounds that run deep through time.
If your soul resonates with this and curiosity stirs within you, you are warmly invited to reach out. Together, we can see if homeopathy can guide you through your own enchanted forest.
With love,
Lioba
