Do It Yourself

Not everyone is skilled enough to turn out intricate gold eggs in their spare time or beautifully sculpted marble figures to grace their altars, but making your magical tools isn’t about becoming a world-renowned artist or a craftsman.  It’s about learning the relationship between you and the tool.

When I was initiated, I wanted an athame.  Not just any athame, I wanted a black handled, double-edged, a bright and shiny 6 inch blade athame.  The shape of the blade had to be just so and the handle had to feel right in either hand (I’m ambidextrous).  I had a mental image that was crystal clear and all I had to do was find it.  I’d sell my underwear to get it if I had to!  Unfortunately, I couldn’t find one to fit my image.  I settled for something else.  It was cheap.  It wasn’t even black handled.  It wasn’t at all functional as a cutting tool.  It wasn’t even close to what I wanted.

I lost it.

Oh well, no big deal.  Face it, it was a costume piece at best…, and it was cheap.  I hunted around and found something else.  It wasn’t what I wanted but what self-respecting Witch runs around without an athame?

I lost that one too.

I beat myself up over that one for a little while and then went out and found another athame.  That one looked better.  It was a lot closer to my vision of what an athame ought to be and I actually liked it a little.  I promised myself that I would be a lot more careful with it.

But I lost that one too.  Or somebody stole it.  Or something.  I don’t know.

By that time, my wife and I had stumbled into the position of leading a coven.  We had a responsibility and we both took it seriously.  I was getting very frustrated with myself over the business of losing my athames one after another.  What a terrible example to set!  It wasn’t any big deal to be skyclad on circle, but I felt positively NAKED without my athame!

Now, both of my parents were in the optical trade.  I grew up learning all the stuff you need to know to make lenses and was familiar with lots of hand, power tools, and machines needed to grind, polish and shape glass lenses as well as the machines needed to make parts for the machines that made the lenses.  We had a lens shop in the basement of our house when I was growing up which later became a family business in a rented building.  I was able to use all of these machines and hand tools.  I’d already made a few items for our coven’s use with these tools and had even become interested in making little pentacles out of silver wire.  I decided that I would attempt to make a knife.  How hard could it be?

Well, that was the wrong question to ask.  I studied up on materials and techniques used to make knife blades and was amazed at how many different processes there were for making blades.  I didn’t have a forge, so that method was out.  In fact, a lot of stuff used by professional knife makers wasn’t available to me, so I had to keep it simple and relatively low tech.

I eventually settled on what was called ‘navy bronze’ for the blade.  There were several reasons for choosing this material, but one of them was that it was comparatively ‘soft’ and could be worked by cold beating (like using a forge only a lot more muscle) and filing (the method I chose).  I cut out the general shape of the blade and started to file away.  Several hours later, I had taken away about one half of one percent of what I would have to do.  Whew!  It was then that I knew I wouldn’t have my blade until a lot later than I had originally estimated.  I cast my eyes on the large bench grinder a few feet away and thought about using it for the roughing out of the blade.  But that would be something fraught with all kinds of problems I didn’t want to get into and, besides, it almost seemed to be cheating to use that method.  I don’t know exactly why I felt that way, but since I did, I knew I should go with my gut and do it by hand file and not use a grindstone.  I’d save the power tools for later, when I wanted to polish it.

This project was done on a piecemeal basis, sometimes working for only a few minutes at a time.  I would not work on it when I was feeling tired or upset about anything because I didn’t want that energy to be a part of it.  I wouldn’t work on it when others were around because I didn’t want them to kibitz and offer to help.  It was going to be my project and mine alone.  It would be my magical tool and, good or bad, it was going to be made by me.

It took me almost three years.  I made the handle out of cocobolo wood and stained it as dark as I could.  The finished product was not exactly what I had envisioned originally, but it was something I could be proud of never the less.  I even got some leather and figured out how to make a sheath for it.  When I finally brought it on circle, I had learned many things because of making it.  Most of them were about me.  It wasn’t the most beautiful knife nor as good as I could make now if I had to.  But it was part of me by then and nothing in the world could make me feel more proud.

And I gave it away.

I gave it to the coven.  I still use it, but it isn’t my ‘property.’ Others use it too.  It sits upon the east altar and we keep it shined and use it for all the things an athame is supposed to be used for.  Any member of the coven is free to use it.

You see, while I was filing away, finding the blade within that piece of bronze, the gods decided that I could find the athame I had always dreamed of.  I saw it in a shop that sold knives for kitchen and sport use.  I had gone into that shop many times in the past.  My new athame cost a pretty penny but it was exactly what I had ‘seen’ in my mind’s eye all along.  It has remained on my cord ever since.  I love it, but not in the same way as our coven athame.  Both are special to me even though they are completely different.  Finding the ‘right’ athame allowed me to be freer in my work on what became the coven’s athame.  My abilities and decisions concerning the making of my hand-made magical tool were no longer hindered by wanting my work to be something less than my vision of my athame.  Instead, what emerged was more in tune with my abilities and my growing understanding of what it meant to make the tool.  The whole process became like a meditation for me.  I was under no time constraints that would necessitate making compromises with myself over some aspect of it.  And I slowly had become aware of the nature of the materials and the effects that the project made on me.  What was produced through this effort was much more than just a knife.  My spirit had grown because of the energies I had put into it.

And that, dear readers, is the most important reason why making your own tools is important.  By challenging myself to do something that I hadn’t done before, by extending my talents and learning into new areas, I had worked on myself.  Not only did I appreciate the skill and knowledge that a really well made knife required, but I appreciated my own abilities better as well.  Though I would never think of myself as a master knife maker, I would always know that if I had to make a knife, I at least knew a great deal about it that I hadn’t known before.  When my ideal athame showed up in that shop (six months after I began making the coven’s blade), I was able to appreciate some of the beauty of it that was more than just its appearance.  As I continued with making what became the coven’s athame, I learned even more about what a knife blade was and why it was such an important symbol of my chosen faith.

I had learned a mystery.  My knowledge of knife making was greater, but my knowledge of me was even more.  My personal experiences could never be duplicated either in myself or anyone else.  But anyone who undertakes to make their own tools will discover new things that can’t be explained; they must be experienced.

Since making that blade, I have ventured forth to make other tools.  Each time, I gain a little more understanding about a thousand things.  And each time, I find within myself something greater than what I expected.  It’s more than the skills or the pride of accomplishment (both of which are grand, but pale in comparison).  It’s a new perspective, a new understanding.

This mystery awaits any who try.  Don’t worry about your skills or knowledge; you can learn new things from a thousand sources.  But the only way to learn what you need to learn is to make the effort.  Let any fears about the results float away.  It doesn’t matter if it isn’t ‘perfect.’ You may end up, just as I did, buying the tool at some point.  But nothing… nothing will provide what your own efforts will give you.  Don’t judge your finished product by any standard other than the value of your own time and energy.  If you did your best, it is worth more than anything you could possibly purchase in a store.  Put yourself into it and it will be more magical than any other piece you will find.  And, if you give it in love to another, that too will be a mystery.  Because the magic doesn’t reside in the object; it dwells within your soul.