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A rough draft of the spiritual autobiography of Joseph B Wilson. The history that lead to Toteg Tribe.
Copyright 2003 by Joseph B Wilson
From time to time Sean would take me to north-eastern Oklahoma where his family owned a horse
ranch. In the back woods of their property there were some small hills and a cave in the side of one
of them.
We would go out there, sit around a campfire, and talk. We never did any fancy or special
ceremonies. No invoking quarters, no pipe ceremonies, no sweat lodges, nothing like that. From
time to time he'd hand me something -- a feather, an animal pelt, a rock, a stick, a plant, -- and ask
me what it said to me. Most of the time I didn't have any idea of what he was talking about. He'd tell
me to not pay any attention to what things should mean and just tell him what I felt and saw in my
minds eye. Sometimes I could feel and see something, sometimes not. He'd tell me to listen to the
wind in the trees and see if I could figure out what it was telling me. And to watch the animals, and
see what I could learn from them. He did the same with the sounds of the woods. He never would
tell me if my interpretations were right or wrong. He told me I needed to discover that for myself.
He'd tell me things about the Earth being our Mother and Grandmother, since we got our bodies
from Her and our food and clothing came from Her, and the Sun being our Father and Grandfather
since we got our energy from it and without it the Earth Mother could not bring forth any of the
things which are necessary for life.
He never said that what we were doing had anything to do with ancient European or Native
American Spirituality, or witchcraft. He implied that the things he was teaching me were handed
down in his family ("Oh, it's just some things some of the old folks do."), and I assumed it was from
the Irish/Scottish side. Looking back it was probably a little of that, and a little of the stuff other
country folks in those hills did. Anyway he said that if this were the Middle Ages we would be
accused of witchcraft for doing these things. He said that although outsiders might call us witches
we should avoid the term since it was derogatory -- like a white person calling a black person
"nigger". I took him literally.
At the beginning of September in 1963 Sean, his wife, Siobhan, Barbara, and fellow named Phil
took me to the Cave. I guess this was a kind of initiation. In some ways it was very similar to the
vision quest done by some Native American tribes, and in some other ways similar to the
initiations described in Zora Neale Hurston's "Mules and Men". There they took my clothing and
told me to spend my time praying and listening to the answers until they came back for me. They
left me without food or water for four days. I kept warm at night by making a heap shelter of dry
leaves and fallen branches (learned from watching squirrels), and got enough water from the dew
on the plants in the morning to survive. It really taught me to be grateful for the gifts Mother Earth
gives!
That was the way Sean taught. I was still young and immature, and wanted magical powers, so I
read everything I could find about the occult, magic and witchcraft, including Charles Godfrey
Leland's books about Gypsy practices and such.
It was about this time I discovered Fate magazine, which I read thoroughly monthly, including the
classified advertisements. Towards the end of 1963 I answered a classified for PENTAGRAM, a
Witchcraft newsletter published by the Witchcraft Research Association of London, England.
When I got it I found it full of information about something called "Wica" (a term then used by the
followers of Gerald Gardner in England) "the Goddess", Nature Religion, and the like. I showed it
to Sean and he said something to the effect of "Oh no, not another 'call to the covens.'" He didn't
think highly of them or that movement, and cited all sorts of examples of political in-fighting in
similar groups. He advised me to ignore them -- instead I ignored his advice.
Inspired by Pentagram, I started a four-page spirit duplicated newsletter in early 1964, which I
named The Waxing Moon. I was searching for other people who were practicing spirituality similar
to that which "Sean" practiced. Sometimes I subtitled it A Journal of the Old Religion and
sometimes I called it A Witchcraft Newsletter. Either way the first few issues were poorly written,
poorly duplicated, and poorly distributed. I placed it in a bookstore near the University of Wichita
(Now Wichita State University), and put an advertisement for it in the classifieds of Fate magazine.
I offered it for free and just asked those who wrote for it to send me a donation to help cover my
costs if they could. Some did, some didn't. I never got enough money in donations to reimburse
me for my advertising, printing, and mailing costs. I didn't mind, it was a labor of love. I got about
50 requests for it each time I placed the classified advertisement in Fate.
