Beyond the “New Age” Section: Why I Study Outside of the Magical Box
Author’s Note: The content of this blog reflects my personal experiences and perspectives on magic. Witchcraft is a deeply individual practice, and my approach may not align with everyone’s beliefs or traditions. I encourage readers to explore, question, and adapt what resonates with them. Nothing shared here is meant to serve as absolute truth or professional advice. Trust your intuition, do your own research, and walk your own path.
When I first began practicing witchcraft, much of what I learned came from books and websites that were written by witches, for witches. They were practical, accessible, and oftentimes felt like being handed a warm cup of tea by someone who understood me. But as my practice deepened, I began to feel a gnawing sense of limitation associated with these books—a sense that the world of magic was somehow bigger than the same five or ten sources every author or blogged seemed to cite.
I came to believe—and still do—that if I wanted to truly understand my magical and spiritual practices, I must be willing to go beyond the familiar shelves of occult bookstores (or, for those of you were around for it, the ‘New Age’ section of Borders).
I believe that, in order to become well-rounded, well-informed practitioners of magic (and also of Pagan faiths), we have to embrace our academic side. We must venture into history, literature, language, folklore, and anthropology. We must learn to read myth like scholars, not just like believers.
Why Go Beyond the Witchcraft Section?
While books written for the magical community offer valuable insights, they often recycle information without deeper questioning. Or at least without insight into the deeper questioning that the author may have done themselves.
Many modern Pagan and witchcraft traditions are based on reconstructed histories, partial research, or creative intuition. They beautiful in their own right, but not always historically or culturally grounded.
If we only ever read what is written for us, by our contemporaries, we risk living in an echo chamber. To build a practice that is resilient, dynamic, and informed, we have to explore the original cultural soils from which our traditions—and the spirits we work with—grew.
This doesn't mean that academic study must replace lived experience or intuition. Rather, it means that book-learning should offer a foundation that strengthens them both.
Learning Across Disciplines
In my own path, this has meant dipping into subjects I never thought would matter to my magic, such as:
History: Reading witch trial testimonies and medieval texts to better understand how spirit work and magic were actually described in these times.
Folklore: Studying the living traditions of rural communities, rather than assuming all folk practices align neatly with modern "pagan" categories.
Language and Etymology: Tracing the evolution of magical terms, learning how meanings have shifted—and sometimes been lost—across centuries.
Poetry and Mythology: Learning to read myths not just for their surface stories, but for their hidden structures, their archetypes, and their ritual language.
Each new field of study adds another layer to my understanding, like building up a series of glazes on a painting. The colors become richer, deeper, more nuanced.
Accessibility and Self-Directed Learning
Formal academic study is not accessible to everyone, and I don't believe it should be a gatekeeping tool. But today, there are more resources than ever for self-taught witches and Pagans, including:
Free lectures and courses online
Public domain translations of classical texts
Folklore archives
Affordable secondhand books on history, anthropology, and religious studies
Scholarly podcasts and open-access journals
Curiosity, patience, and a willingness to sit with challenging material are more important to a witch and their practice than any formal degree.
Building a Deeper, Truer Practice
When we step outside the familiar walls of the witchcraft section, we connect more profoundly with the traditions we build and the spirits we honor. We start to recognize where practices have evolved, where ideas have been adapted, and where something older and stranger is still whispering just beneath the surface.
For me, interdisciplinary study isn't about making magic academic or sterile. It's about making it real and mine — rooted in history, alive with story, sharpened by critical thought, and expanded by wonder.
