I’m a Third-Generation Witch — and My Spiritual Practice Is Not a Joke

As a child, the best part of visiting my grandmother was going to the local crystal shop. My younger sisters and I would walk through the aisles of crystals — lepidolite, celestite, you name it — and graze our hands over their rocky surfaces. My grandmother, walking behind us, would ask, “Which one are you drawn to? Which one calls to you?” I would close my eyes, focus and feel the crystal pull me toward it. “That one.”

I grew up in a family of witches. Even though we spurned witch hats and a cottage in the forest for UGG…