Before you were even conceived, the burning times had terrorized your soul. But you can reclaim your Pagan power. 

During the European persecutions, thousands of women were killed as witches. Accusers would sometimes wipe out almost all the women of a village, along with some of the men.

I believe the burning times traumatized our DNA. This following shows how I picture it happening. 

Imagine a widower who lost his wife and sisters. Imagine his little three-year-old girl tells him that she talked with a Fairy that afternoon. Imagine his terror, that she too might be murdered for consorting with the Fey Folk.

Imagine his sense of helplessness—he does not know how to communicate to an innocent three-year-old the gravity of the danger she is in. All he can do is slap her and scream into her face, "Never let me hear you talk about the little people again. It is bad, very very bad." 

Every time she shows any inclination that might get her called "witch," whether it is a magical bent, mystical thought, or joyous connection with nature, she is punished. Punished again and again until utterly subdued.

As with all such dysfunction, it gets passed down generation after generation, part of the family system. Magic, joy, herbal healing, and overall naturalness are suppressed for generations—the trauma of the witch murders continued.

Even if that in itself did not wound the familial DNA, below are more ways I envision the trauma was passed down. Here is where I start piling problem upon problem, which may sound like I'm getting carried away, but bear with me, because my premises are plausible as a whole. They are true to the way trauma operates on a societal level.

Imagine the entire village, in its immense grief and shock at having lost half or more of the community to mass murder. With everyone reeling from the events, their innate ability to heal themselves and others was greatly diminished. 

In addition, they no longer turn to nature for its curative powers, because they would risk being called "witch." No walking through the quiet woods to find the depths within to mend the soul. No basking in the sun to replenish hope. If they do risk it, they do so in a heart-sickening dread of being discovered. That state of immense fear limits healing's impact terribly.

And they must have lived in daily terror that accusers would return to kill more of the community members. That terror is a trauma unto itself. it is difficult to heal from trauma while still in trauma. 

Additional problems accrue: with entire village traumatized, the dysfunctions are many—alcoholism, violence, grief stricken impotence, and inability to take care of the daily chores. Where can healing of this come from? Not only is self-healing limited, but their shaman who would have helped heal their psyches was killed. Their herbalist is also dead, so cannot help balance bodies that have become exhausted by the struggle. 

The trauma simply becomes a way of life passed down from generation to generation.

Europe's mass murder of their own witches traumatized many non-Europeans in the above mentioned ways, with European societal norms' dominance. 

These terrors and dysfunctions are embedded in our DNA, family patterns, and societal structures. When some of us intuit these injuries still influencing us, or have past life memories of them, or sense our ancestors horrific stories in our own cells, it might not be delusion but admirable perception.

Acknowledging that these wounds exist gives us the chance to heal them. Recognizing that they might be deeply embedded can help us heal them.

Although some of us may feel free of these pains in significant ways now, understanding the deep nature of these problems helps us realize they may continue to affect us still, sometimes on a subconscious visceral level.

Delving into those deep layers can heal them, helps us reclaim our Pagan power more than ever. So mote it be.