So long! Farewell! Auf wiedersehen! Good bye!

Another year ends tonight.  Whoopee!  Ok, that said, it’s been a tumultuous and at times darn right aggravatin’ year.  So many details of my life were upended and changed without my input or voice.  Not having an iota of control over my professional world really upset me these last few months and I allowed it to steal away my peaceful state of mind.  However, I am now going to pat myself on the back for several New Year Resolution accomplishments from 2012. 

This year I expanded my employability endeavors.  I began tutoring online and met with success in this venture.  I have more to do in this field and I am looking forward to the opportunity to excel. Last week another site asked me for a writing sample.  Tempting…I need to check it out and see if it is better pay or better hours than I what I am currently doing.  Right before the holiday I finished editing a novella for a young man from Haiti.  It mostly involved correcting punctuation and other mechanics, but it’s something new to add to a resume.  I also wrote a piece that got published by someone other than me.  I got paid for it even.  How cool is that?  Not too shabby on exploring other job options.

I’m making tremendous progress on the understanding of personal finance.  I’m watching more closely where our money goes.  We are learning to live within different parameters so that we can be freer in our money goals.  I’m learning and I’m spending time analyzing how we can live the lives we want to without money feeling like a burden.  I believe in being responsible and making informed choices.  I will continue to work toward independence and contentment in this area.

Another opportunity occurred when I got to visit a city I have never been to.  In September I flew to Vegas and got to spend a whirlwind weekend learning new dance moves, watching professionals demonstrate their prowess, and enjoying time with my fellow belly dancers.  While there I saw an old friend who kindly gave me the shot at getting published (thanks again, Craig!).  I got to experience a bit of Sin City; enough to realize that the strip is devoted to pleasure and vice.  You want it, they got it.  I also concluded that Vegas is not my city.  I am not meant to reside in a desert, but visiting again would be all right with me.

Along with new resume fodder, money matters and travel, I read a lot.  I wanted to read more books and I think I did.  I read everything from ridiculous sci-fi Douglas Adams style to the classic sci-fi Dune and Stranger in a Strange Land as well as non-fiction Physics of the Future by Michio Kaku, Wolf Gift by Anne Rice, and the Dalai Lama’s latest book Beyond Religion: Ethics for a Whole World.  I averaged more than 2 books a month all year.  I love reading!  When I don’t get a juicy story to read, I feel something in my life is missing.  Each year I try to read a few more of the titles on the top 100 must read list.  Eventually I will read them all.

 A while back I started eating according to a different method.  Since then I have maintained the initial benefits of weight loss and increased health and energy.  I wanted to make sure in 2012 that I could continue the positive eating and living plan I started.  One vital part of any lifestyle change involves finding something you can keep doing without getting bored or complacent.  Eating from a primal menu brought me so many benefits that I can’t imagine going back to the way things were.  Honestly, I ate well before this switch, but I eat even better now.  No lie.  I don’t feel deprived or hungry or like I can’t manage it.  It’s simple, easy, and oh so tasty! 

Most importantly I maintained a blog all year!  Granted, once the chapter a week of Scott Cunningham’s work was finished, I slacked off on the postings, but I did find other topics to keep me writing.  By doing so I worked through some of my core beliefs and emerged even stronger in conviction.  I think my self-assignment helped me gain perspective, solidify my beliefs, and find a level of comfort in my own skin.  I honestly do believe that this is who I am and while others may not always understand or accept it, it’s my life to live, not theirs.  I will continue to live the best possible life I can on my terms. This is one resolution kept and met.  Hopefully I will get to bring a little joy to others along the way in the coming year.

One unexpected understanding that came to me this year involves happiness.  Finding what makes you happy is important.  Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise because it is rubbish to deny the importance of happiness in our lives.  So much heartbreak and devastation occurs in the world.  Realizing and accepting that most of it exists outside my control fills me with frustration and angst.  Finding a way to make this world a little better, a little happier challenges me.  I may not have all the answers to the world’s problems, but I can find ways to work in my own area to improve conditions here.  I can make donations, sign petitions, send my representatives letters and emails, and volunteer.  I can also find one thing each day that makes me happy and share that joy with others.  I want more happiness in my life and in my world now that we averted the Mayan apocalypse.  Time to be the change I want to see in the world.    

Yule

Happiness is a choice. 

I honestly believe that.  Unfortunately for some in society, happiness is not a choice.  Something in their bodies, minds, and spirits interferes with their ability to be happy and content.  I have no words to help them.

I do, however, have the ability to be happy myself.  I can seek peace and wonder and joy.  For that, I am eternally grateful.  Do you know what makes me happy?

1. Dancing makes me happy.  I don’t care if it is two-stepping, freestylin’ it in barefeet at a music festival or belly dancing with my favorite prop d’jour.  Dancing frees me to unparalleled levels of bliss.  I frequently cannot be dragged off the dance floor. 

2. My husband makes me happy.  He and I have known each other for over twenty years and for some reason, he still loves me just the way I am.  Fat, thin, long hair, short hair, angry, content—I’m sure he’d prefer content—but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt he loves me and always will.

photo by Micah Hewett Images

3. My friends make me happy.  Some are goofy.  Some are rowdy.  Some are intellectual and some are carefree.  I love each and every one of them as they are and for what they bring to my life.  They make me think, they offer me advice, and they keep trudging forward through this life with me.  Sometimes it’s more like separate paths that occasionally cross for brief periods of time, but I know some truly fantastic and wonderful human beings who enrich my life.

4. My family makes me happy.  The saying goes that you can’t choose your family.  In every family you have a delightful mix of personalities, quirks, and gifts.  No matter what though, we are family and we always will be despite any difference of opinion.  I can look at each one of them and always find something lovely I admire about them even if I can’t stand to spend more than a few hours around some of them.  C’mon—be honest; you know what I mean.

5. My cats make me happy.  They are three furry terrors at times and they can cause devastation in the house, but they also can be the cuddliest balls of love ever seen even when they aren’t seeking food.  A gentle head bump from Poof wakes me gently most mornings.  Link’s unbelievably loud purr calms my heart.  Hissy’s temperament makes me laugh even when I know she’d rather we humans just let her be.  They add a lot to our household despite their cat-ness.

6. Reading makes me happy.  I learn so much from books and plays and articles; I can’t put words to how happy books make me.  They take me far away from this world to someplace new and sometimes frightening.  Their protagonists help me figure out my own life’s path and the motivations of others.  I find sheer nirvana in sitting down with a cup of coffee some mornings with no further agenda than to thoroughly digest a good book.

7. Food makes me happy.  Here I am incredibly blessed with a husband whose mother taught him a love of the culinary arts.  He is skilled and he spoils me rotten with his technique.  I can give him a wacky idea and he’ll turn it into delicious dinner.  Give me spices and meat and vegetables and wine!  I love to eat!

8. Music makes me happy.  The lovely thing about music is that it suits whatever mood you may be experiencing.  You can select a sublime concerto for an afternoon’s contemplation or you can crank hard rock to release whatever raw emotion is disturbing your day.  Music always soothes no matter what the ill.

9. Nature makes me happy.  Spending time outdoors by a lake or on a mountain trail or staring at a campfire settles my spirit.  I find the natural world puzzling, peaceful, and poignant.  Learning about different and unusual life or habitats fills me wonder and delight.

10. The universe makes me happy.  I find sheer thrill in studying the planets and the stars and the Big Bang and the quasars.  Fascination.  Unbridled fascination.

At this time of year with the numerous hardships and tragedies that we as humans face on the blue marble, I wish nothing but the best for us all.  May we find the answers that bring happiness to those who cannot choose it for themselves.  May we find some way to offer joy, friendship, and harmony to everyone we meet.  Blessed be to everyone.

A Yule Blessing

Our world wrapped in darkness

We eagerly seek the light.

Together we watch and wait,

To bring hope and peace this night.

My Inner Pyro

...or Samhain Part Deux:

Part of why I absolutely love Samhain is the duality of it.  Consider my last post.  Its focus primarily rested on the concept of the dead and our reactions to them.  Samhain is a lovely time of year to remember, to honor, and to grieve.  Then there's the New Year part of things.

In a Samhain circle I love writing down all the crap that's buggin' me, pissing me off, and generally keeping me from the happy.  I've always found it intensely therapeutic to follow the acknowledgement of the dead with the cleansing of the bane.  That list of craptastic muck gets burned in the cauldron's fire.  You offer up all that you feel pressing down on you and watch it burn.  It goes away in a lovely display that is greatly satisfying.  Fire's transformative power on nature to emerge from devastation to begin new life empowers you!  Furthermore, asking your loved ones for a little cosmic bump in the pursuit of contentment really helps you remember them at their absolute best.  You draw on all that made you love them and admire them and call on that aspect from within yourself.  Your blood is their blood and it gives you strength.  

And there's candy.

Samhain

HAPPY NEW YEAR!          

That’s really what Halloween is ya know—a new year for the pagan persuasion.  I have loved Halloween over the years not just for the candy, the costumes or the decorations…ok maybe it is about the candy sometimes. 

Anyway:

Samhain brings the end of the cycle and the beginning of the new.  According to the lore, the God goes to the underworld.  Hence the dark right?  Samhain reminds us that life is life and with life, we also have death.  Honestly, Samhain easily became my sabbat of choice because of the comfort I found through grief as well as the releasing of the muck that so often gums up my engines.

Unlike some of my close friends, I admit that I have relatively low grief experience.  Three of my four grandparents have died.  That’s the closest on the family score that grief came.  All of them were elderly and sick and declining in the health well before they succumbed.  I know that each of them released from this mortal coil for the better.  That didn’t stop me from bawling my eyes out at Samhain those years mind you, but it brought me greater peace and acceptance of the end of their cycles.  

Grief is not always so peaceful, however.  I recently volunteered to help with a drum circle at a teen grief retreat.  My husband and I drum and a friend of ours asked if we could help with their drum circle.  I must admit, I was apprehensive just because I know that my grief experience is not what others sometimes go though. I went anyway. I’m glad I did.   You see, during the drum circle on the first night of retreat, the naming happens.  As we drummed, we’d pause periodically and name those who we wanted to remember that night.  I recall being absolutely petrified that I’d have to name someone knowing full well that my grief was nothing compared to that of the young faces I saw in that circle.  I couldn’t believe the number of names some of these young people rattled off.  “So much death for one so young,” I remember thinking over and over again. 

I did eventually share a name of a young lady I barely knew because a car accident took her life.  I attended her memorial and I cried then; I said goodbye.  I offered a memorial in a circle for her and the young man who also died that night following the service.  I thought that I had made peace with it.  Then I said her name in that drum circle a few weeks ago.  I was overwhelmed by the feeling of loss and the realization that her family and friends and the world at large lost something precious that night.  Maybe it was the rhythm.  Maybe it was the gathering of people who all had grief in common.  I don’t know.  I do know that the tears that sprang to my eyes surprised me.  It’s been four years this winter.  Yet that circle and that gathering, gave me more closure and acceptance than I thought I needed.   

That’s what ritual does for us.  It conjures up those emotions that make us human and gives us a forum where we can acknowledge them.  It might be in the group.  It might be in solitary.  It might be now; it might be years from now.  Who knows?  The ritual though can be the catalyst for some—even those who thought they didn’t need it.  That’s the beauty of Samhain.  You commune and remember those who’ve left this earthly realm.  You celebrate them and what they brought to your life.  Then you look at what muck is gumming up your engine and you light that crap on fire.  Let. It. Go.

           

Lord, we say farewell to you this night.

            Rest within the Goddess’s cauldron until we reunite.

            For my loved ones: bless them and keep them,

            May their memories be my life’s light.

Blessed Samhain, everyone.

Splitting Hairs

My husband and I both have papers from Universal Ministries stating that by paying a small fee and filling out an online application, we now may perform any number of ceremonies like marriages or even baptisms.  This certificate, which also comes in pocket-size, is mostly symbolic and in no way means that either of us is particularly religious in any way.  The certificate’s powers allow us to perform weddings and we have; he has 2 (almost 3) and I have 1…not that I’m keeping score.  Anyway, we’ve both stood in front of a gathering of people and pronounced a couple married.  Recently though, someone told me that we “officiate,” we don’t actually marry people.  It took some prodding, but it seems the distinction this individual was trying to make is that because my husband and I are not ministers for any church this person accepts, we therefore only officiate legal unions like a justice of the peace.  Seems like splitting hairs to me.  Verb choice really?  That’s the distinction? A ceremony presided over by a JoP is somehow not really marrying the couple, it’s just officiating?  Apparently to be a marriage for this person, it must be blessed by church official like a priest since she indeed declares that she will be a Catholic until she dies.  I’m not sure I buy her argument that the ceremonies my husband I have performed are in any way less valid or true marriages.  Have you ever really investigated the history of marriage?  No?  Let me enlighten you on what I have found.

Guidelines about marriage began as a way to make sure humans kept having babies and passed property down bloodlines. Way back when we humans lived mostly nomadic and tribal style lives, marriage was really open and I do mean open to interpretation.  Not only did men actually go and essentially kidnap women for sex, in some tribes the males could be with whatever woman appealed to them and then the children from these unions belonged to the whole tribe.  Fascinating, yet primitive by our Western sensibilities I suppose.  Personally, being thwacked over the head and led away for mating, childbearing, and no real monogamous connection does not appeal.  I am a product of that whole feminism movement after all and I enjoy being able to rebuff or prosecute such advances.  Speaking of feminism, ancient Romans seemed to have the first equal status for males and females in marriage.  Interestingly, when women and men held equal rank in marriage, the birth rates declined!  The declining birth rate led Augustus to impose mandatory marriage laws.  So much for freedom and equality.  As societies moved to more agriculture based societies, the issue of property rights emerged as a concern and males wanted assurance that the kids born of their wives were actually theirs so that the possessions of the father went to his sons.  Enter the age of marriage as a contract. 

From this lovely idea of property rights, humans gained reinforcement to the idea of women as chattel.  Now instead of being open and available to all men, women were property of a man and marriages were often business dealings.  The love we now associate with marriage actually was relegated to the realm of prostitutes, male lovers, or concubines.  Marriage was business so if you wanted monkey business, seek it outside the marriage bed.  Early civilized societies had the practice of prearranged marriages complete with either the male’s family giving the bride’s family money for the woman, or the woman’s family giving the male’s family money and property for taking that pesky female off their hands.  Either way, it was business and the woman was not in control.  Marriage secured property rights for heirs and also for churches through the wills of the deceased family members.  As the churches gained more control over societies, religious influence also reached marriage.  Around the 12^th century marriages added blessings and prayers which then gave way to full on religious involvement in marriage ceremonies.  Despite this, some civilizations insisted on a secular union before a religious one because a religious union was simply not enough. Essentially, as humans progressed through the ages, the definition of marriage and how to define it varied considerably and changed based on the needs of the society.  This idea of government sanctioning marriage for legal reasons also helped shape America’s ideas of marriage.

In  Colonial America, because so many of the early European settlers escaped religious persecution elsewhere, colonies opted for civil, legal marriage rather than religious based ceremonies.  They looked to the idea of usus for their marriages which stated that living together for a year as husband and wife provided enough of a proof for marriage needed to be legally accepted.  If the wife stayed away three nights, the marriage was voided.  This idea should sound familiar since its modern version morphed into common law marriage.  Only Virginia Colony held on to religious over civil, but this too gave way eventually.  With a brief knowledge of the ancient origins through early American views on marriage, it appears that marriage frequently falls under the heading of legal contract, and that religious involvement was discretionary.  Therefore, I felt obligated to investigate specifically Catholic views on marriage to completely understand the point of distinction mentioned earlier in this article. 

In my digging for information I made rather startling discoveries regarding the Catholic Church’s involvement in marriage.  For example, in 866 Pope Nicholas I held that even if a marriage was consummated, if either party objected to the marriage, the marriage was then void.  Hmmm, veh-wee een-teresting.  By this belief, even if the two had sex, either the man or the woman could still oppose the union regardless of whether or not it was arranged by the families.  In the 13^th century the church took control of marriage as a ceremony, but still held that marriage “sprang from partners and neither the parents, nor priest, nor government could affect validity.”  Holy smoke!  If a marriage springs from the individuals’ consent, then the priest really was there as set dressing even though the church saw marriage as a sacrament.  By 1563, the sacrament of marriage appears in canonical law, but throughout the 1500’s, marriages without witnesses or priests were still common. Furthermore, according to the Catholic Encyclopedia, marriage is a “legitimate union between husband and wife” with the term legitimate defined as being sanctioned by some kind of law: natural, evangelical, or legal.  Again, marriage through the ages changes even in the sometimes unyielding Catholic Church.  By including legal in the definition of legitimate, even a civil marriage between gay and lesbian partners would be recognized as a marriage.  The priest’s blessing supposedly elevates the marriage’s union as an offering of the marriage in “importance and sacredness,” but a marriage that satisfies “legitimate union” still qualifies as marriage.  Furthermore, “most people, including most Roman Catholics do not realize that the ministers of the sacrament are the spouses themselves.”  WHAT?  So the Roman Catholic Church still follows the age old tradition that simply declaring yourself married is enough?  Just so you know, the author of this article, Scott P. Richert, is a Catholic who along with his wife attends a traditional Latin mass and he holds an advanced degree from Catholic University of America.  By this teaching, the two people who want to get married, are married as long as they say vows to one another that say they intend to contract a marriage with one another.  That’s it.  Priest or “officiant” not needed unless you want that added bonus.  By this argument, my Catholic ‘til death person is right about us not performing marriages; but neither do priests.  They too are just “officiants.”  Even with that nugget of revelation, marriages that are legally recognized like the ones my husband and I perform=valid even under Catholic scrutiny. 

Therefore the only barrier to defining the unions and the act of performing those unions that my husband and I perform as marriage is the individual in question.  That is her issue to resolve if she indeed views our marriage rites as less than marriage.  For me and my husband, those ceremonies and the ones yet to come are marriages.  Period.  For that “Catholic until the day I die,” she can have her marriage.  She can call it marriage in whatever fashion she defines it along with her husband.  Those other couples though-- asked us to be a part of one of the most important days of their lives.  Clearly, those couples’ marriages satisfy any definition of marriage out there…and I refuse to diminish the status of those marriages or our role in celebrating them to anything less than the beautiful portrayal of love and devotion that they are.   

Regret--what is "gret" and why should I ever re- it?

Do you ever play your least greatest hits back over and over again in your head?  You sit there in quiet contemplation about something else when all of a sudden you start remembering all that cringe-worthy shit you've ever done for absolutely no good reason other than to make yourself feel completely awful and ashamed?  My hindsight's been kicking my ass for about a week and I have no idea why other than a recent lupus flare kept me immobile with very little to do other than dig around in my head and blow dust off some stuff I should have set out for the garbage man to haul away.

Combine immobility with my natural introversion and viola!  We have weirdness in my gray matter.  Being an introvert makes me intensely prone to reflective thinking.  Usually this is productive for me, but not lately.  It's like I go rooting around in my noggin for an idea and WHAMMO!  This memory of something horrendous I did years ago jumps out at me like the Boogie Man.  What the hell is that about?  I've done a lot of work to move past those things and to live in the present because there's absolutely nothing I can do about the past and all that other healthy wellness advice that I truly do believe in. Yet, there it is.  Some random and not so complimentary or unsavory thing I did years ago looms.  It threatens to expose me like a blackmailer looking for some hush money.

What. The. Hell.

Then two things happened: 1) I got a massage from a friend and 2) I went to coffee with another friend.

Let me tell you about my friend the massage therapist. She's amazing.  Really.  I don't go out and chat and all that stuff with her that often because as I said--introvert.  OK, borderline recluse.  Anyway, she's got these liquid hazel brown eyes, naturally buoyant hair I would love to have, a killer dragonfly tattoo and we've had some fairly in-depth philosophical discussions that have helped me get out of ruts in the past. We visited back and forth a bit, got caught up and she basically massaged the crap out of my sore and achy muscles so that I promptly took a nap when I got home.  It was bliss.  I probably don't tell her enough how wonderful she is.  She really is fantastic.  She plays flute and she's always been drop dead talented.  I've never told her that I admire that about her, but I do.  I could never do that.  Her ability to play flute solo or with an ensemble is something you should experience some time.  As spaced out as I was after that massage, I started thinking about how awesome she is and couldn't help but smile.

Now for my coffee bud.  We've had an interestingly complicated friendship to say the least.  Way too much history to go into here.  She's a lot younger than me, but we also have a lot in common like a passion for the written word.  One thing I've always enjoyed about her is her zeal for life.  An opportunity presents itself and she goes for it.  She will pick herself up and move across country, which is something I have never done.  She's always struck me as someone who wants to experience everything this world has to offer and if it sucks, she's gonna go find something else to entertain her and the ugliness can just kiss her ass.  She's also dealt with way too much heartbreak and grief for someone her age.  Here she is in her prime and emotionally she's treading water.  At one point we were discussing her current relationship and she asked what I would do in that situation.  Before I had a chance to respond, she said, "You'd never be in this situation," to which I kind of scoffed.  After all the self-imposed regret montages I had endured the past week, I found that remark rather ironic.  My friend is in pain.  I know not how to help her other than to be here if she needs it.  I wish I knew exactly what to say to her to help her heal, but I don't.  I just know that the world is more interesting with her in it and I hope she knows that.

There you have it.  Two of the people I am blessed with knowing and calling friends.  These two women whether they know it or not brought me out of my head and back into life.  In the past, I've done rituals to cleanse and help me move on etc.  However, I am so fortunate to have these phenomenal women in my life and appreciating them for all their wondrous being worked better than a charm.  All of my friends are so important to me and yet I don't know that I tell them enough.  You see it doesn't matter who I was in the past.  I did some shit.  I learned from it.  I don't do that shit anymore because I figured out it wasn't who I was or who I wanted to be.  Despite that shit, these two people willingly seek me out for coffee or a movie.  For that, I am profoundly thankful.

And my Greatest Hits Regret Edition can suck it.

Lughnasadh

Post Lughnasadh Greetings to you all!

Per my usual, I spent this year's Lughnasadh up at the lake.  It was delightful as the full moon coincided with the sabbat.  Each of the 3 nights of the full moon I excitedly watched as the moon crept over the mountain before bathing the campground and lake in glorious and brilliant light.  I didn't even need the flashlight I took down to the lakeside the first night because the moon was that bright!  Breathtaking and wondrous.

As for the sabbat itself, I woke that morning and did the typical camping morning routine of hygiene and coffee before sitting down to ponder the deeper meanings of Lughnasadh.  If you don't know, this happens to be the first harvest of the sabbats and it is in essence the Wiccan thanksgiving.  You can read more about the Celtic God Lugh who lends his name to the sabbat here or on the festival itself at this entry.

I spent some time talking with my husband about what the sabbat means and reflecting on what we felt was going well this past year.  Some time after that I composed a list of what I believed improved over the last year and what still needs to get moving.  This is one of the suggested methods to reflect on your own personal harvest.  Pleasantly I noted that my list of "Needs More Time" was far shorter than my "Wow This Is Awesome."

• I am extremely grateful that for the first time in several years my husband got to camp with me the whole week of our vacation.  For the last few years, he's either been there for a few nights or not at all. 
• I am also grateful for my husband having found a job that does not require him to travel for weeks or months at a time.
• This summer I received an offer for a part time online tutoring job which along with my regular job and my husband's job means that we will be free of some major debt by this time next year.  Whew!  The end is near.
• I received a bailout of my very own this year as well which will absolve me of a portion of my student loan debt. This makes it that much easier to pay off that previously mentioned debt.
• I am reading even more than I used to if that is possible. I am reading a large variety of books as well, which is what I had hoped for this year.  For example, I read Stranger in a Strange Land while camping.  I can cross that off my "Classics to be Read" list.
• I am more fit than I have been in a long time and I have maintained my weight loss and lifestyle changes that helped me get back into single digit clothing.  You should see my arms.  Seriously--I cannot believe how fantastic they look.  They are strong and lovely and still feminine.  
• We have the most amazing garden that is providing an abundance of vegetables for the winter.  I wanted to devote more time to the garden and it has paid off in spades!
• I continue to be more honest and open with my parents and other people about myself.  I am a major introvert and a very private person, but I set a goal to be more open and to answer as honestly as possible any questions about my beliefs.  So far, so good.
• My husband and I remain close physically, emotionally, and philosophically.  I cannot tell you how much I value the fact that even when no one else seems to get it, he does.  
• Bellydance remains my creative and performance outlet.  I have been at it for about 5 years now and it still amazes me to watch my fellow dancers develop their abilities.  I love the camaraderie and the opportunities I have had because of this artistic expression.  I set out to go to a national bellydance festival this year and viola!  I will be doing that in about a month.  

Not a bad harvest eh?  Therefore, I was moved to write my own Lughnasadh words of celebration.  

Radiant Sun,

Through your warmth our garden thrives.

As your time each day wanes, 

We thank you for your bounty

And wish you safe journey

Toward winter's embrace.

Gentle Moon, 

Remind us of life's cycle.

As your lover weakens,

We thank you for these lessons.

Content in your presence,

And joyful harvest.

Grant us your wisdom with every bite,

Sow within us nature's rhythm with every sip,

I am thankful.

To Have and To Hold

Greetings to you all.  Hopefully you are well and enjoying the summer.  As always, many weddings have come and gone this season and more will follow. For now though, I must discuss an unfortunate wedding-related event that recently consumed my thoughts: chauvinism. 

Let me set the scene:

A young woman and her mother sit close together planning the twenty-two year old’s wedding which will happen in about a month.  Much to accomplish on the pre-wedding to-do list for these two women who busily attend to each item on the list.  As they discuss the decorations and the menu and the song list, the mother lovingly offers this pearl of marital wisdom to her daughter:

“Honey, when you marry you will follow your husband’s family’s set of traditions.  On holidays, you will go to his family or you will follow their traditions in your own home.  When I married your father, we celebrated with his family as you know.  It wasn’t until your father’s parents both passed that we spent a holiday with my parents.  This is what you will do when you marry.”

I cannot express to you my outrage and my disbelief upon hearing this true to life story happening in today’s world.  First of all, why does the husband’s family tradition take priority?  In a marriage, the two people should decide together what their plans will be.  Saying that the woman should submit to the man’s way of doing things cuts off any discussion or relationship building between these two young people.  It deepens the notion that men rule the household and women have no authority or voice beyond what the man grants.  Secondly, just because the mom decided in her marriage to handle it this way does not mean that the daughter should follow.  Now, if the bride-to-be and husband-to-be decide together that this is how their marriage should be, then I cannot argue that because they made that decision together.  I think it’s wrong and I think it’s harmful to them as well as to any children who are then raised in this belief, but it thankfully is not my marriage.  Despite the fact that I believe in a couple’s right to live with this marital structure, perpetuating this kind of chauvinism in families does little to move us forward as a land of equality.

Now what does this have to do with Wicca or paganism?  Well, the above situation transpired between a devoutly Catholic mother and her daughter.  No surprise that chauvinism would be present in this family since their religion teaches gender hierarchy through excluding women from being priests and the recent attack on American nuns, right?  They also have a creation myth based on the idea that women are the reason humans fell from grace.  This isn’t a harsh on Catholics post, so I will stop there, but it is necessary to understand the full situation so we can then look at the pagan perspective in comparison.

In Wicca, the Lord and the Lady are frequently seen as equals.  In some popular creation myths, the Lady comes first and when the Lord shows up in the plot, there’s no shame or guilt or fall from grace to support either gender being superior.  The Lord and Lady each see to different elements of life on earth.  They walk in love sharing this world in a beautiful balance.  Their relationship myth shows a respect for one another and a unity of purpose for their life together.  Under this model for marriage each participant is valued and appreciated.  The married couple moves through life mutually choosing celebrations and traditions as a couple.  As a couple they discuss, they create, and at times they argue, but they build a life together based on mutual esteem and love.  Neither party makes the other feel lesser or like his/her opinions have no merit because the other party has superiority or dominion over the other. 

This is what the Wiccan creation myth teaches about marriage.  It is beautiful.  It is respect.  It is divinely inspired unity.

Therefore why on earth would anyone ever willingly give up his/her own self-determination just because he/she got married?  That makes no sense to me whatsoever.  It seems to demean the beauty of marriage.  It reduces the woman to chattel that live in the father’s home for so long and then get traded to the husband. If that’s not just backwards thinking I don’t know what is. Frankly, I want no part of it.  Thankfully, my husband doesn’t either.

To Sit in Solemn Silence

I adore camping.  I am incredibly fortunate to live in a state rife with opportunities for the camping minded to escape the press of city life.  Recently, my husband and I made our first pilgrimage into the wilderness to spend an extended weekend in the woods.  I went to the woods to think deliberately about a question posed by a favorite author of mine who asked that we discuss the difference/similarity of religion and magic. 

This was my intention.

This is not what happened.

As I sat in my comfy camp chair with a low flame campfire casting a tangerine glow on the surrounding ground, I observed a sliver of light peeking through the towering pines.  I knew that we’d planned this trip during the days leading up to the full moon, but oh my!  How breathtaking to witness the moon gaining her girth in a setting removed from all electric power.  As I sat there in quiet contemplation, I actually started weeping.  The light of the moon cast a shadow as I walked away from the firelight.  The bold brilliance caught me off-guard.  For the last few months, it’s been cloudy around the full moon.  We were deprived the joy of witnessing the supermoon even!  This waxing moon however demanded my attention as it made its gentle path across the heavens.  My mind enrapt attention failed to register how anyone could possibly not be moved by such observation.  It occurred to me that pre-industrial age humans must have been awed watching this glowing orb as it changed each night and journeyed across the sky.  How could they not?  Is it any wonder that they created stories about this mysterious object that at times appeared in the daylight and at others not at all?  What a wondrous moment of solitude gazing at a simple rock radiating splendor.  I was stupefied.

Each night I eagerly awaited the moon’s return to see how it had changed from the previous night.  The magnificence enthralled and calmed me.  It caused me to ponder other ideas and to sit in reflective quietude.

“Thus, for the people living today in the forests of the Piraparana`, the entire natural world is saturated with meaning and cosmological significance.  Every rock and animals are but distinct physical manifestations of the same essential spiritual essence.” Page 79, Wade Davis The Wayfinders

I recently finished reading The Wayfinders  for this month’s book club discussion.  In the book he describes different cultures that have amazing creation myth stories that influence every aspect of their lives.  Because of views like the one in the above passage, these humans would never think to kill another living thing without permission from their deities.  They kill for livelihood and they kill with reverence. 

“Meat is not the right of the hunter but a gift from the spirit world.  To kill without permission is to risk death by a spirit guardian…” page 81

This view applies to plants as well as animals.  As a result, these tribes develop a method to manage what resources they have so as not to live out of balance with the natural world.  They observe what is around them and create beautiful stories of their origins and what will happen should they offend the cosmic rules they establish.  They respect the world around them as a living, breathing entity worthy of respect and care and at times caution.  Reading this book reminded me of my own natural world ponderings around the fire.  The beauty of the world around us was and is awe-inspiring.  Learning to live in a world while recalling that it is indeed finite should give anyone pause.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t.  For example the campground neighbors we had one night were not what I would describe as those who see the earth as having anything spiritual about it.  These individuals, when given the need to pack up, opted to chop down a young birch tree to retrieve their hanging lantern when they could have cut the rope instead.  This is not to say that I haven’t made my mistakes interacting with nature mind you, but it shocked me that chopping the tree was preferable to cutting the rope. 

Furthermore, in Davis’ book he describes the atrocities of imperialism and assimilation of cultures.  We are all familiar with what was done to the tribes of North American Indians or the Aborigines of Australia.  However, it is still happening.  These humans who have survived according to their beliefs and cultures are still fighting the march of progress as it encroaches closer to their world.  Instead of learning from the past, Western development continues on both small and large scale to grab all it can and squeeze the stone until it bleeds.  I’m left asking what will sate this progress? What will it take to stop civilization from taking just because it can? 

Wonder.  I have concluded that when we lose that sense of wonder about nature is when we lose that last bit of innocence.  When we no longer gaze at the moon and feel moved by its beauty we move into a realm where it becomes easier to consume without thought.  We begin to objectify our surroundings and eventually that leads to a lack of respect for humans who don’t.  Clearly it is absurd to a rational mind to think that the milk of life from the Amazon mother flows in the river.  Therefore let rational people build a dam or cut down the trees on the banks or fish for that one species that is so tasty or even let’s just take these savages and move them to a location where we can educate them so they don’t have to live like this any longer. 

I value science and progress.  I love my Nook that allows me to read any book I want and also surf the internet.  I like having a truck so when the winter winds and storms blow I don’t have to walk through it to get to work.  However, I hope I never lose the sense of wonder that moved me to weep as I reveled in the moonlight.

“The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant.  We have created a society that honours the servant and has forgotten the gift.” Albert Einstein

Summer Solstice

Litha is the longest day of the year when the sun is at his full might.  Therefore fire imagery is strong on this day.  A bonfire again is common.  Fire purifies the woe and the discord and gives warmth to life.  Common herbs are lavender (personal favorite), chamomile, and vervain.  Harvesting herbs on this night and drying them by the bonfire is said to increase potency in the herbs for magical workings.  White is a common color as is gold for the sun.  Many who use mirrors for magical dealings will cleanse and then absorb the midsummer magic into the mirrors for future use as well.  Summer fruits of course provide the menu—cherries, apricots, and plums for example are tasty at any time this day.  My ritual bowl was brimming with them.

In the past I have performed full blown rituals, rituals outside, simplified rituals at a campground as well as shared rituals with friends in the backyard which entailed burning packets of summer herbs while pouring all of the negativity I felt at the time into the little packet and watching it get cleansed by the fire.  There are many possibilities, but I must say I really enjoy being outside for this ritual rather than in the basement where most of my rituals occur.  Being in a short season for outdoor rituals area Litha is typically one of those celebrations that I relish the opportunity to be outside making merry.  I would really have preferred to be out of town for solstice--somewhere in the mountains.  Alas!  I have workshops all week and couldn't get out of city limits this year.

If I am inside though, I will use a green candle for the Goddess and gold candle for the God on my altar as well as either a white or a gold cloth.  Outdoors though, I cut way back on the accoutrement.  The idea is the same however—asking that the God cleanse what isn’t currently working and thank the Goddess for her continued energy to propel forward what is working.

Blazing God, I feel the fire of your passion burning in all life.
Mother Goddess I see the earth full to bursting with the fruit of your bounty.
On this night of unequaled magic
Fires flame to their zenith in the Lord and Lady’s combined joy.

This is when I would place the summer herbs into the white packet and tie it with a red ribbon.  On the paper used as an envelope I would write what I see going well and what needs a bit of cleansing.

Midsummer fire burning bright
Take these items from my life and world
Purify them in the Lord’s fervent light.


Midsummer fire glowing sight
Take these items from my life and world
Nourish them to the Lady’s delight.

Simple feast and thanks then close.

Please Allow Me to Introduce My Brain

I apologize for not posting for a few weeks.  I fully intended to do so.  However my mind prefers to continually race at unearthly speeds thereby devouring so much information that at times it overwhelms me.  Consequently, I have been at a loss of where to begin.  That said, I’ll say the crux of this post plainly.

I don’t believe in God.

The story that kicked off this most recent introspection on faith happened to be about a Mormon woman whose husband told her quietly before bed that he no longer believed.  This deeply moving article provided a different perspective for me.  I have read countless stories about Catholics who no longer believe, but this was the first by a Mormon that I have read.  The tone of the article touched me to my core.    Her tale reflects what is so often overlooked or disregarded—we disbelievers spend a great deal of time pondering this notion.  It does not just occur.  We reflect, we pray, we consider, we study and ultimately we use the magnificent lump of grey matter in our skulls to reason out what we truly believe about spirituality and our place in the universe. We can reach a conclusion that may not agree with everything that we’ve been taught to believe up to that point, but we made the choice for ourselves and guess what?  We can do it peacefully without condemning or harassing others who still believe.  As we close the door on the church we’ve always known, we also open doors to new kinds of equally valuable relationships.

What astonished me the most this week involved the number of articles that described clergy men and women who are leaving their faiths and discovering comfort in some of those new and valuable relationships.  If people who have dedicated their lives to delivering God’s message can find themselves doubting to the point they describe themselves as atheist—what does that say about the state of faith in America?  This is the flipside to that coin that keeps getting thrown around when policy decisions run up against religion.  The Clergy Project provides a much needed network of support for these people who find themselves ostracized and threatened and suddenly without security of home and finance.  In the CNN article, Dewitt raises an interesting point: he’s still ministering, just a little differently than he used to.  How beautiful is that?  It acknowledges that his ministering changed over time as his understanding and belief changed, but he’s still ministering to people in need.  Clearly we can still be compassionate and loving counselors to one another even without deferring to a supreme being.  The Clergy Project started with about 52 members last year.  It now lists 285 on its homepage.  With the coverage it has been receiving, I bet it continues to grow.  The clergy men and women are fortunate to have this connection and I hope that it continues to assist them.  Each story I’ve read lately includes a common thread beyond the loss of faith; they include a lack of animosity toward the religion they leave—even toward the members of their congregation who threaten them.

The lack of animosity suggests to me that these people truly spent time deep in contemplation about their beliefs and therefore reached peace in their decision.  I too am at that point.  While it would be easy for me to cite the priest abuse scandal or the Vatican’s war on nuns as reasons for anger and be perfectly justified in that outrage, I tend not to take that tack.  Don’t get me wrong—both of those situations are horrifying to me, but I can forgive them and be completely thankful that I do not recognize the infallibility of the Pope.  That lump of grey matter in my skull tells me holding on to anger about these situations would serve no purpose.  While these two situations appall me and revolt me, they are not the only reasons why I will not describe myself as Catholic.  Greta Christina posted a fantastic article about the topten reasons she doesn’t believe in God and I tend to agree with the article wholeheartedly. I’ve read a couple of articles from Big Think lately about how we continue to discover consciousness as part of the brain, not a soul gifted us by God.  Through MRIs and photon emission computed topography now we know that prayer and meditation and speaking in tongues affect the brain in very specific ways—it alters our consciousness.  If someone wants to call that evidence of God moving through them, fine. However I do not.  When I am deep in meditation or visualization I know I am tapping into a part of my brain that apparently is dedicated specifically for this purpose and it produces some amazing sensations and experiences. To me though, it’s not some supernatural supreme entity saying “Hi!” It’s my brain doing something that takes a lot of practice to do.  It feels amazing and euphoric and it benefits my health and well being therefore I do it.  It’s no wonder that humans created all these amazing lush stories to explain this effect.  It’s no wonder we created fantastical myths to explain the world around us and all of its beauty.  Yet now we know other explanations exist.  There are no turtles supporting the world.  There is no Mount Olympus where Zeus rules all.  There are no demons at the core of our planet; it’s made of our original Earthly core and a gigantic Mars-sized pseudo planet that hit Earth a really long time ago causing both Earth’s axis tilt and the formation of the moon.

My husband and I also recently began watching Carl Sagan’s Cosmos on Netflix.  I love a little brain stimulation about the universe and he likens it to Mr. Rogers in space.  In one of the early episodes they show an experiment that uses just the essential, basic gases like helium being squirted into a glass container and guess what happens?  Given enough time those gases combine to create the primordial sludge of life.  Hmm…ponderous is it not?  Allow that brown goo some more time and those little bacteria etc. will begin the process of evolution.  I do not believe in Adam and Eve.  It’s a lovely tale, but it’s not how things happened.

I’m sure you might be wondering how I can call myself a solitary Wiccan given this perspective.  Surely there must be a different label that better fits.  Well, believe it or not paganism and specifically for me Wicca fit the best in my understanding of the universe so far.  Granted I am heavily influenced by the works of cosmology like Carl Sagan and I disregard a lot of dogma that some schools of Wicca insist upon.  There's that lump of grey matter at work again.  You see, from studying the universe I have learned the moon was part of earth.  Now it’s not and without it, our planet would wobble around worse than a bowl full of jelly.  Our climate would be uncontrollable and we’d probably die soon after the moon goes away.  The moon stabilizes this beautiful planet.  It controls the tides so our land masses are not almost completely submerged by water.  It provides the gravity we need to stay on just the right tilt to the sun.  The sun also exerts a little gravitational pull to keep us in the sweet spot.  Thanks to this lovely balance life as we know it exists.  Pagans got this part right—the sun and moon help us thrive.  Without either one, we’d perish.  I believe in the power of nature and that magical thinking is enough.  

In Harm's Way

I’ve been grappling with how to put my thoughts into words for this post all weekend.  This topic is one that I don’t take lightly and one that weighs on my conscience heavily.  You see, today is Memorial Day.

Last week my mom asked if we were interested in doing anything for Memorial Day as in a barbecue or family dinner.  I declined citing my regularly scheduled Monday night classes.  Of course, that’s only part of the reason I wouldn’t want a barbecue.

Memorial Day was one of those holidays growing up that I never fully understood I suppose.  There was innocence to it.  It meant that I didn’t have school and that school in fact was almost out for the summer.  In high school it meant that there would be an invitation for us band members to play at the cemetery.  It meant that we would hopefully have decent weather for all the events that would be scheduled for outdoors as the summer season kicked off its shoes and basked in the light of the sun.

But that’s not what it’s really about.

This photo blog appeared in my news stream this morning.  These photographs bring gravity to the day for me.  They show people.  Soldiers yes, but people first and foremost.  People who, for the most part, had no choice but to go into military service thanks to the draft.  Some of course volunteered readily I am sure.  All of them did what was their duty according to the expectation of the time.  However, these pictures ask us to look beyond the idealized and romanticized concept of the hero soldier and to see the human in the fatigues.  The human who chanced to meet Marilyn Monroe, the human who stared down the bell of a sousaphone and was not deafened, the human in a moment of solitude taking a whack at the golf ball in the open air and the humans finding time for a bit normalcy in video games in a place that in no way represents what we here in America see on a normal day.  However, for those in the military, these images represent stolen moments of calm amongst otherwise horrific and impossible situations.

A friend of mine who is in the military and who has served multiple tours in the Middle East posted this snippet from The Blaze.  My friend and his military buddies of course were offended by the pundits’ discussion.  Unfortunately, I think my friend’s emotional gut reaction of how he sees himself and his fellow service members interfered with his hearing the actual discussion.  The pundits aren’t trying to insult the individuals.  They aren’t trying to demean in any way the job the military personnel are commanded to do.  It seems to me that these pundits are attempting a conversation on the efficacy of a policy that is tossing about a word that bears a tremendous force: hero.  For them, the panel members on this show, the word hero is losing its significance because the nation has been in sustained conflicts for its longest period in our history.  Our national policy has become one of war and devastation for the service members as well as the civilians.  The constant din of the War Machine numbs us to the actuality of the war itself.  The pundits may not be expressing themselves very well and my friend and other military personnel may not listen beyond the notion that these talking heads are reluctant to use the word hero to describe the military, but the point is important.  We’ve been doing this war thing so long that we are becoming desensitized to what it all means.  We’ve created countless heroes; so many that the word itself no longer holds the impact or meaning that it once did.  We lack the words to describe the countless deaths of soldiers both on foreign soil and at home.  We lack an accurate word for a man whose vehicle is blown up as he drives along a desert road.  We lack an accurate word for the woman hit by a stray bullet.  We lack a word for human lost in despair from all that still toils inside even though the tour of duty ended.  Hero used to connote something, but because of the constancy of overseas entanglements we run the risk of losing that meaning.  Perpetuating the hero archetype seems to lead to condoning the act of war—condoning the act of putting soldiers and civilians alike in positions of intolerable cruelty where they lose their humanity bit by bit.

Think I’m wrong?  Recently a top military officer unleashed a firestorm for calling the suicides by military personnel selfish.  I used to think that suicide was selfish.  It was one way I could keep myself from committing suicide because to me, I didn’t want to be selfish.  I didn’t think of myself as selfish.  Somehow, I don’t think the military men and women thought of themselves as selfish either.  I find it difficult to believe that these individuals would have thought about suicide if they had not first been in a position of war. I cannot fathom the torturous moments these people endured both in war and at home.  I know my cousin returned home from the first Iraqi war changed.  Not only did he display symptoms of the nebulous Gulf War Syndrome, but his wife would frequently find him shaking uncontrollably under the bed.  Sometimes he’d scream out in his sleep.  A friend of mine struggles to maintain his every day life after serving in the current Middle East conflict.  His Post Traumatic Stress impedes his ability to live a life of quiet contentment.  It disrupts his family’s sense of unity.  He is forever a changed man.  Numerous stories exist about the human cost of war.  These real stories run counter to the idealized hero soldier we who never go to war want to believe in so deeply.  They question that iconic coming home and feeling safe once again in the knowledge that what was achieved served a greater purpose and all is right now that the soldier is home.  These men and women have lived through an ordeal none can fully appreciate unless we’ve been there ourselves.  The image of hero is changing. 

I suppose that is what is so devastating.  We want to hold up these individuals for the duty they have performed.  We want to celebrate them for doing something few of us want to do.  We want them to know on the one hand we value them and that we  remember, but what do we really remember?  If we knew all about PTSD and suicide rates of soldiers would we be so cavalier about allowing our elected officials to send more humans into battle and think that a parade and a “thank you” now and then is enough?  Calling them heroes—is that enough to somehow be ok with the fallout?  I cannot help but think we as humans must evolve to another form of settling our conflicts because if we keep going to war we will never fully remember what that means. 

Humans are resilient.  Humans are resourceful.  Humans are capable of fantastic feats of compassion, empathy, creation and cooperation.  When I remember our military on this day, it is with sincere gratitude and hope that their ultimate sacrifice will one day no longer be necessary.

Even If Your Religion Says It's Right, It's Not

Sometimes I just want to smack someone up alongside their head when they say things like two people shouldn’t get married because religion says so.  Of course, that impulse is not keeping with do no harm right?  It’d be giving in to violent urges that really won’t help me make my case even if it would feel so good sometimes.  If you haven’t heard, North Carolina became the latest state to enact a law banning same sex humans from getting married because after all, that is something a law should decide right?  We should have a law that eliminates the hope of humans to pursue their happiness.  We should have a law that places one group higher and more worthy of privilege than another group right?  If someone says their religion defines marriage as one man and one woman than the opposition just needs to shut up and back off.  Invoking religion as an excuse to limit someone else’s pursuit of happiness is exactly what we should do.

Except we shouldn’t.

Ever.

A friend of mine pointed out that the last time North Carolina amended their state constitution was to ban interracial marriage.  Apparently they learned nothing from that experience.  They have forgotten the lessons taught about races and how that minuscule difference on our DNA that makes us one race and not another has absolutely no effect on intelligence or ability or competence.  It’s so tiny that in discussing the differences between humans it is largely irrelevant when considering humans as a species.  Consequently, we finally got it through some people’s thick noggins that skin color is really a stupid reason to keep people from pursuing their happiness with another person or from fulfilling their fullest potential.  When considering the biology of humans, I am willing to wager that differences between a homosexual human and a heterosexual human are even less noticeable.  Is this really the best Americans can do as humans—say I’m better than you because my religion says I am?  Preposterous!

I have no problem with people who aren’t comfortable around homosexuals.  I have no problem with people who believe in a religion.  I do have a lot of friends who fall into one or both categories.  They are entitled to their own right to privacy and religion yada yada yada.  However, when it comes to establishing laws based on religious doctrine that restrict the basic human rights of others such as the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness I get pissed.  Those human rights include equality before the law.  Therefore, if your church doesn’t want to perform a marriage for a homosexual couple, fine.  They don’t have to.  However when it comes to living in a secular society as we do, we should never vote on a basic human right like freedom of liberty to marry whoever the hell you want.  Period!

Now I heard an interesting counter to this idea of marriage as a human right.  Someone suggested that  marriage may not really be a human right.  Could it be a man made institution instead?  I actually shook my head in an attempt to understand exactly what this point was.  Somehow shaking my head vigorously would rattle my marbles into alignment to understand this notion.  Where is this distinction?  Huh?  Human rights are those items that humans agree upon as basic entitlements to everyone because they are human beings.  Marriage is not an expression of freedom of pursuing life and liberty and happiness and expression and thought?  WHAT?  Everything around us in society is a man made construct for cryin’ out loud and that includes human rights since humans are involved.  Le Duh!  After the horrors of World War II the world agreed that human beings needed to band together to protect the lives of all people who are oppressed because of gender, religion, race, and sexuality.  Do we need a homosexual holocaust to make it plain to everyone or can we agree that isn’t necessary?  There are simply some violations that humanity cannot allow to persist especially under the guise of religious freedom.  Religion is after all, a man made construct too.  I honestly do not see how one can be divorced from the other and used as a defense for legislated bigotry.  Freedom of speech protects even the most horrible statements.  People are free to practice whatever religion they want.  However when those beliefs are used to target a specific group and limit their rights to equality under the law, humans need to speak up and call bullshit. 

Religion can be beautiful.  Religions can provide a sound basis for living a good and a just life.  However when religion is used to justify oppression then it becomes a bastardization of its core belief.  When it comes to writing laws for America, religion should not enter into the discussion.  Boiling the religion out of the rules and focusing on the core ethics of the belief system reveals something remarkable; something that I have believed for years as I have been studying and pondering religions and spirituality.  All major world religions believe in some form of the Golden Rule.  Do unto others as you would have done to you.  If the tables were turned, would heterosexuals be ok being told they can’t marry?  Would they quietly accept “civil union” as an appropriate compromise?  They shouldn’t even have to consider it because we are all humans with the right to life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness.  If two women want to get married how does that harm anyone?  If two men want to say, “I do” before a crowd of their loved ones who is harmed?  No one!  You don’t have to like it.  Your religion doesn’t have to perform it.  But your laws damned well better protect their right to marry because it’s the only just course of action.  

Neil Diamond: Spiritual Guru

Hopefully any Beltane activities were blessed and beautiful for everyone.  Mine shaped up to be quite an epiphany.  I did not intend this to happen; it just did.  I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out Beltane.  I get the symbolism.  I get the Great Rite--big personal fan of that concept.  However, I strive to maintain the balance of Beltane with the temperance of avoiding an all out orgy-astic depravity-filled bacchanalia--I want it to be personally meaningful in other words.  So as my last post suggested I wrote and performed my own ritual.  However, I did not feel as though I had truly uncovered the deeper meaning of Beltane.
I've studied Beltane cognitively.  I've always enjoyed the reports of schools where dancing around the Maypole is a class activity with a little smirk of knowledge.  I've snickered about May Day baskets that my niece or nephew make because I know that these symbols have become different over time just as so many pagan traditions.  They're not lesser mind you--just different significance for some than others. If you don't know, Beltane is all about the Sun God and the Maiden Goddess finally seeing one another across a crowded field and falling madly into the grasses consummating their union in the Great Rite so that life can begin anew.  Is there any greater holiday than one devoted to lovemaking?  Valentine's Day doesn't have anything on Beltane.
The whole Great Rite thing can easily get distorted and maligned as debauchery.  However, last night after ritual, I felt more centered.  I cast my circle, I invoked the deity images, I recited the poem, I even added a dash of off-the-cuff inspired words of gratitude and hope and oneness with the Earth.  As I ate those strawberries I delighted in their tart yet sweet juicy lusciousness.  As I drank the wine I felt energy flowing and reminding me that spring is an amazing time of hope and light and life!  It helped me get my center back.  It'd been a trying couple of weeks at work and in my personal life.  I have been feeling quite defeated, useless, frustrated.  Then ritual just snapped me into balance.  But something was not quite right yet.
I felt better.  I did.  However I just had that sensation that something was missing.  I didn't have that Eureka moment.  I had not suddenly discovered enlightenment about Beltane.
Then I came upstairs to find my husband on Facebook.
I adore my husband.  I've known him for over 20 years. In high school I did something very teenagerish and sent him a mixed tape--yes TAPE!  This was back in the day of cassettes.  You see, he had moved to the desolate plains of the Midwest and he took my fragile young heart with him.  So I did what any good teenage girl would do.  I made him a mixed tape of the sappiest, the most lovelorn, the can't be beaten love songs of my life thus far that included such heart-wrenching tracks as as "Somebody" by Depeche Mode and "Lovesong" by The Cure.  However, there was one song in particular that I put on there that I didn't think he'd know or have any connection to.  I honestly didn't think that based on what I knew about him at the time that he would even know who this artist was.  I was wrong and very glad to be wrong as well.  I put "Play Me" by Neil Diamond on the tape.
Now at the time I had no real frame of reference for the obvious sexual intent in the song.  It was just me being caught up in the glory of Neil's voice and that longing to just be held by my husband who at the time was miles away and for all I knew not thinking about me.  All of my friends will tell you--he gives great hugs. Always has.  I missed his hugs.  I missed feeling like the most beautiful girl when he looked at me.  I missed feeling him kiss me.  I missed him being with me.
Anyway, I come upstairs after ritual and he's on Facebook commenting on a video a friend of his posted which just happened to be "Play Me" set to these beautiful images of sunsets and scenery that were so calming I was swept away.  Then I saw his comment about the mixed tape and how I had included that song on it.  I started to cry.  I couldn't help it!  I'm not a cry type gal mind you, but I was just overwhelmed to come  up from ritual and see this scene unfold before me.
Suddenly--I got it.  I understood what Beltane is about for me.  For us--my husband and me really.  Beltane is about celebrating that love. For the big picture it is all about the Lord and Lady consummating their union to bring forth new life to the world.  We have no intention of bringing forth new life as in baby mind you.  Nope.  Not happening.  However Beltane at that moment was a beautiful expression of reminiscing about our history together and that innocence.  Recalling how much we as teenagers loved one another and didn't really understand the full scope of those feelings.  Swaying together and singing along with Neil: "I am the sun, you are the moon.  I am the words, you are the tune, play me."  Beltane meant celebrating our love and life together because it's been one hell of a journey.
Ritual was complete.

Beltane

Beltane

Cleanse the space and place a rosy pink cloth on the altar.  Adorn with flowers of all kinds.  Place a rosy pink candle for the ritual light.  Have a red and a white candle as well anointed with lavender.  Carve a symbol for the Goddess on the red and a God symbol on the white.  Set on altar on the appropriate sides of the space.  Maybe drink a fruit infused tea for preparation of self.  Have a sparkling wine—apple is a Goddess symbol here—and some luscious berries and creamy cheeses for the Simple Feast.  Once all is set, begin.

Cast circle

Blessing Chant

            Creative energies of Mother Earth,

            Join together with the Lady of the Moon,

            The Hunter of the Land,

            Spirits of the elemental realms,

            Within the sacred stones

            Bless this place, this time and I who am with you.

                        (adapted from S. Cunningham)

Invoke the Goddess and the God

            Mistress of love and fertility, I call upon you Maiden!  Be with me on this Beltane night.  Light the red candle.

            Champion of the forest and land, I call upon you Sun God!  Be with me in Beltane’s light.   Light the white candle.

Prayer of Beltane

Fearless Maiden of the Forest, explore in solitude spring’s path before you.

Youthful Lord of the sun wanders alone until May’s trail turns true.

Together your paths weave on sacred course.

A union blessed and consummated

Brings forth Earth’s fertile celebration of life!

These two are one and one is all,

In Beltane’s fire, passions rise and fall,

United with you, at creation’s ball,

By the law of three, so mote we be!

Simple Feast

Joyous Maiden fill this wine with your love,

Blazing Lord instill in this fruit your desire,

In the name of Maiden and Sun I bless this feast!

Release circle

           Enjoy the Great Rite with someone you love and revel in the beauty of the act of lovemaking as it is sacred, creative, and blessed. 

And the Award For Most Heretical Activity This Weekend Goes To...

My goddaughter received the trifecta of sacraments recently.  In our diocese second graders are now the recipients of reconciliation, communion and confirmation all at once.  When I went through them it was a progression—second grade=communion, fourth grade=reconciliation, and junior year was confirmation.  My misgivings and disagreement with the change of confirming second graders who probably don’t really appreciate all that confirmation means aside, this was my niece’s big day.  She had on a gorgeous little white satin dress with pearl accents, white tights, and low heel sandals along with a flower in her hair unlike the other girls who almost all opted to wear veils.  I, as her godmother, attended my first Catholic-non funeral mass in ages.

Attending mass with the family always brings up pesky questions like, “Will I be struck by lightning when I walk in” or “How big of a deal will this be to my mother” or “Do I receive communion?”  All of these run through my head whenever I consider attending mass.  My mom did make the joke about how the building didn’t get burnt down when my husband and I walked in.  Now, I choose to believe that this was a lighthearted ribbing.  I could be overly sensitive and react to it indignantly, but what’s the point?  Far better to look at it as a simple joke.  So I do.  Then there was communion—to receive or not to receive.  Such a quandary.  At the Methodist church I attended some years ago, the minister always made a statement that all present were welcome at God’s table meaning that even if you haven’t received the Catholic required sacrament of first communion or even if you were from a different church or faith, you should still feel welcome to partake.  No such statement at this mass even though the Catholic viewpoint is that any Christian is welcome.  I was listening for the invite too, but it never came.

 Interesting point if you don’t know, but Catholics actually believe in the mystery that the bread and wine is transformed into the body and blood of Christ.  I know plenty who don’t really believe that, but that is also the official stance of the sacrament and is one of the qualifying rules for receiving communion.   You must believe it or you shouldn’t receive communion.   Rather grody if you consider it.  Church sanctioned cannibalism?  Ew!  No thank you!  For those of us less inclined toward literal interpretation, it’s a symbolic ritual. I found an article that provides a succinct explanation of the rules regarding communion.  Despite the fact that I satisfied almost none of those rules, I went to receive the body of Christ anyway.  Maybe it was stubbornness, but there's definitely more to it than flipping the bird at the ways of the Catholic Church.  I didn't do it as an affront at all.  I'll get into more of the actual reason in a minute.  Until then, enjoy a little trip down memory lane with me.

Growing up, my dad would always stand off to the side of the pew and allow my mom, my sister and I to go up the aisle first; it was a rather gentlemanly gesture on his part.  During this service though, he waited for mom, but not for me to join the line and walk up to the altar.  I didn’t really think much on it until later.  Was this some sort of slight?  Was my father willfully excluding me by closing the gap and not waiting for me?  Maybe, but again I tend to think better of him than that.  I want to believe that it was just due to his not having been to service with me in a while and he’s out of practice.  It honestly didn’t strike me as anything otherwise until much later in the day when I was reflecting on the day; then I had to wonder.  Either way though, it really doesn’t matter why he did it because he is free to express his opinion one way or the other.  I would rather believe well about him though and therefore I won’t read anything into it more than what it was.  I can’t imagine him intentionally doing something like that to hurt me.  So, I received communion much to my husband’s surprise. 

Now, if you read that article up above, receiving communion in the Catholic Church means a lot. It means you are to meet those criteria and if you don’t, you offend God by receiving communion.  Hmm…the rafters didn’t shake or come crashing down.  The priest didn’t ask me if I had sinned lately and I didn’t have to present an ID for communion.  Did I offend God?  According to church teaching yes I did.  My bad.  However, I liken communion to the portion of a circle called cakes and ale.  Giving thanks for the bounty and ingesting food and drink to ground us and to balance us is not unlike taking in the body and blood except there’s no ritual cannibalism by (*gasp)magic nor is there purity control prior to ingestion beyond preparation of self.  If I was to participate in a circle with non-Wiccans present, I would invite them to partake of my simple feast.  I would gladly welcome them in the celebration.  I guess that is something I wanted my goddaughter to see.  Even though her aunt doesn’t attend church, she can still eat at God’s table.  I don’t want her growing up thinking that God doesn’t welcome all of his children to be present with Him.    I don’t think Christ would’ve turned someone like me away.  One of the things the priest made clear when I went through confirmation classes was that it’s not for me to judge anyone else’s commitment or worthiness—that was up to God to handle.  So if my mom meant more by her dig or if my dad really did intend to exclude me, that’s their right, but it’s also their problem to resolve with God.  As for me, I’ve examined my conscience and I’ve reasoned it through and I cannot say for certain—neither can anyone else—what is in God’s mind.  I know that when I heard God or Lord etc during mass, I would mentally add Goddess or Lady as well.  I know that after studying and considering all the angles and information set before me that the image of God I want my goddaughter to know is one of love and acceptance of all.  Most importantly, I do not want her to turn up her nose in judgment to anyone of another faith or belief all the while insisting that she and the other Catholics had cornered the market on rightness.  Knowing why you agree or disagree with a religion’s teachings is vital in my opinion.  While I am sure she has no idea yet why  this would even be an issue for me or my parents or anyone else, at least she will have the memory that I was there for her big day and I did participate in all aspects of the service without a holy bolt of smite striking me down.  One day she may be ready for the conversation, but not yet.

Strictly speaking, I am a rampant heretic.  I have offended God gravely.  I should rush to confession.  Yet, here I sit ruminating, writing, editing and feeling quite at peace with things as they are.   Honestly, how and why do those self-described Catholic-Pagans do this?  When I read that article up above, it reminded me of all the rules regarding communion and what it means to be Catholic.  It reminded me of all I had learned growing up by passing through the sacraments.  Now after 20 or so years of meditations on the topic I believe that religions can provide beauty and wonder and morals.  I believe that the mythology of religions can be highly instructive tools for young people to learn how to listen to and follow their conscience.  They can also be very destructive tools to promote misogyny and abuse and bigotry.  I do not believe that the Catholic Church is home for me.  I’ll just pack up my heretical tools and keep moving through this existence as best I can with as much love as I can for all people, even those who disagree or judge me.  I have no need to be right in this argument.  That’s not important to me.  What is important to me is knowing who I am and why I make the choices I make regardless of any mythology.  That way, if my goddaughter is ever ready for that conversation, I can engage her with the benefit of my experience and deeply reasoned beliefs.