PORTLAND, OR — A 23-year-old witch reportedly entered what friends are calling “an extremely temporary phase of revolutionary optimism” this week after discovering the writings of Starhawk and briefly considering organizing “some kind of spiritually grounded collective action.”
The incident began innocently enough when the young practitioner encountered a worn copy of The Spiral Dance at the “used” section of a local occult bookstore. Witnesses say the witch initially intended only to “flip through it for aesthetic reasons,” but within hours had become visibly energized, speaking rapidly about consensus models, eco-spirituality, and “building community infrastructure.”
“She changed immediately,” said one roommate. “One minute she was posting selfies with her moon water, the next she was asking if our apartment complex had considered restorative justice circles.”
According to sources, the witch spent the next 48 hours in what experts describe as “peak Starhawk exposure,” consuming essays, interviews, and workshop clips with escalating intensity. Friends report a dramatic increase in phrases such as “horizontal leadership,” “collective empowerment,” and “what if we actually did something?”
“At one point she started sketching diagrams,” said a witness. “Not sigils. Organizational flowcharts.”
The shift reportedly culminated in an ambitious late-night planning session involving herbal tea, seven open tabs on mutual aid networks, and a notebook page titled “Potential Community Ritual/Garden/Resistance Hub.”
“She became convinced we could transform society through ritualized cooperation,” said another observer. “Which, to be fair, is exactly the kind of thing Starhawk would inspire.”
Complications emerged, however, when the witch attempted to move from theory into logistics.
“First there was the scheduling poll,” said one participant. “Then a discussion about whether meetings should have structure or ‘flow organically.’ By hour three, someone had left the group chat after a disagreement over facilitation energy.”
The proposed organization reportedly fractured further after debates concerning location accessibility, anti-capitalist snack procurement, and whether chanting should be mandatory or “invited but not centered.”
“Things got tense when someone suggested a steering committee,” said a source. “Another person called that ‘hierarchical creep,’ and then everybody needed a break.”
Despite setbacks, witnesses say the witch maintained a determined optimism for nearly a full week before gradually returning to more familiar solitary practices.
“She still believes in collective action,” said a friend. “She’s just…recovering from trying to coordinate twelve magical people through a shared calendar app.”
Experts note that this phenomenon is common among younger practitioners encountering Starhawk’s work for the first time. “There’s often an initial surge of visionary enthusiasm,” explained one Pagan studies scholar. “Readers become convinced they can heal both society and their local community garden simultaneously. Eventually they encounter the ancient enemy of all movements: organizing volunteers.”
At press time, the witch had reportedly scaled back plans for a decentralized eco-spiritual coalition and instead committed to “starting smaller,” beginning with a community picnic and “maybe one attainable project at a time.”
Sources confirm the event is already facing delays after three attendees entered a prolonged discussion about whether bringing store-bought hummus compromises the magical integrity of the gathering.
