What is Paganism?

So...new post about minority stuff. In particular paganism, but first a note about minorities in general.

It's a fact of life that this is a very diverse planet, and that it's impossible to know about all the minorities out there. The fact is that we're all going to make blunders on occasion, and it's easy to find that we're spreading false info about someone because of our ignorance. However, we can listen when someone of that minority speaks up to say "Um...no, that isn't exactly right." So long as you do that, I figure you're probably ok.

This is coming up as a result of a friend (who's also an activist for other minorities, which is how I met her) sharing something on Facebook. It was the following text beneath a pentacle:

pentacle, found at clker.com

"Contrary to what you may have been told, this religious symbol is used by a large number of people who share a common belief in the sanctity of life. They don't sacrifice living things for any reason. They do not worship the Christian Satan, nor do they revere any similar figure; most do not even recognize the existence of Satan. They do not cast spells to cause evil to befall others, for they believe that causing evil will bring back evil to the one who causes it. Their religion is based on nature, and is founded on the belief that the whole world is interrelated, that everyone is responsible for their own actions, and that peace, love, and tolerance should be encouraged by everyone, everywhere.

"And yes, I am one of them."

When some of my fellow pagans tout all the above as absolute fact I can hardly blame others, such as this friend in question, for believing it. But that doesn't change that it's misleading of paganism as a whole.

Are there pagans and witches who follow and believe all of the above? Yes, but we need to remember that many don't. It's like saying that all Christians adore the Pope. Catholics generally do, but some Protestants say he's going straight to hell. It's something that some, but not all believe, but if you're only around certain Christians you might think that all of them revere the Pope.

As to what pagans as a whole look like...I'm laughing because we're impossible to sum up in a single post. There are so many diverse beliefs that it's impossible to say anything without making generalizations, which of course won't apply to everyone.

Some pagans are vegan because they don't want to harm another living creature. Some pagans sacrifice pigs. Some pagans would never intentionally hurt another person. Some pagans join the military in honor of their gods. Some pagans dance around bonfires naked. And some pagans can't imagine getting naked in front of others, even for a ritual.

One last tidbit, for anyone who's still feeling lost...which is totally understandable. "Pagan" is an umbrella word that encompasses many different religions, hence the wide variety of often contradictory beliefs and practices.

My Pentacle

I was recently asked about my pentacle, and what it means. I was also asked about pagan idols, and explained that no we don't actually worship statues, or if anyone does I haven't heard of it. To this my Christian question asker then said "Oh! So they're like our cross!" After that conversation I thought the subject of what the pentacle means is interesting enough that it would worth writing about.

Pentacle, found at clker.com

First I have to say, exactly what the pent means depends on who you're asking. It would definitely be interesting to refresh my memory on the different ways others view it and write about that, but this post is about what it has come to mean to me.

When I started wearing the pentacle I think I was about eighteen, and it was more because of "Hey, I'm pagan! And I'd love to be able to spot other pagans, so this seems like a good idea, plus I finally have a symbol that I'm drawn to even though I don't know precisely what it means to me. Earth fire water air and spirit yeah...I'll figure out details later on." I still like that the pentacle is a convenient way to find other pagans, either by seeing them wear one or them saying something about my pent, but a large part of why I still wear it is that it's become a comfort thing. If I don't wear my pentacle and the cross my boyfriend gave me (he and I may be weird pagans), I feel like I'm missing something.

As for what the pentacle has come to mean to me...

The different points represent to me earth, air, fire, water, and spirit. I call them elements, which I know is scientifically incorrect but I'm kind of ignoring that. And it's occurred to me that these "elements" can also be called solids, gas, plasma, liquids, and the space between the stars (or vacuum...or dark matter? weird stuff in any case). I haven't seen anyone else refer to the points or the elements in this way, but I know I can't be the only one this has occurred to. Bottom line is, the points are everything that makes this universe, and then the circle around is tying everything together into one universe, one creation.

In a nutshell: the pentacle is all of Creation, and a reminder of the the vast universe (or multiverse) I live in. This line of thinking also takes me to a meditation I wrote about recently, which is coming to be part of my understanding of the pentacle.

I expect my understanding of the pentacle to continue growing, as I learn and experience more. For one thing, I know I'm drawn to pentacles whose points escape the circle, and I'm trying to sort out in my head exactly what that means to me. I've been told it represents power extending outward, but I'm still mulling over that over.

Do you wear a pentacle? What does it mean to you, and has that changed over time?

Writing in Class

One of my classes started this week. The first things my professor did was have us write a bit on a few different subjects, and we shared our writings with the class as part of our introductions. I thought I may as well share what I wrote here, more or less as I wrote it, with only minor editing because a few things came out really awkwardly.

Also, a note...right before class, I had been chatting with someone I had some classes with a few years back and have kept in touch with on Facebook. After same sex marriage was legalized nationwide recently, I responded to a post of hers on Facebook about how she feels that no matter what, either gays or Christians will face discrimination. I also said that I normally wouldn't comment on something like that on Facebook, but that her stance has me baffled since she's one of the sweetest people I know. To this, she suggested that we get together over coffee to talk, and we agreed to meet on campus before my class would start. Our conversation, and the curiosity on both sides of it, was fresh in my mind when the professor gave us our first subject to write on.

... ... ...

Current social problem or concern: Considering the conversation that I just came from, the subject of willingness to listen to other people comes to mind. I was just talking to someone about her Christian beliefs versus queer rights, and how both can live alongside each other. She talked about “compromise,” but I don’t see how “compromise” is needed since I don’t see how her own rights are being infringed. Maybe I need to learn to listen better? But maybe she just means that she wishes she could express her own feelings without people coming down hard on her for them. Both of us walked away from the conversation being glad that we could just talk, and she was asking me about my Pagan beliefs. So, problems: 1) That some feel queer rights and Christian freedoms don’t coexist well. Is there a solution that makes everyone happy without anyone feeling like they’re compromised? 2) Willingness to listen to others when you disagree with them, this doesn’t happen enough. The second seems to be a human nature problem, and is a conversation well worth having throughout all human history. The first is a problem particular to here and now, at this time in history and in this place, though others have had this conversation (and others will again) in other countries.

Writer I admire, type of literature/genre I’m drawn to: Jim Butcher, Tamora Pierce, Ursula K. Le Guin. Writing that gets into what makes us tick, is very serious in that way, but manages to also have a sense of humor about it. I love fantasy/science fiction in particular, but I think in other genres I particularly love the books that fit the above description.

Greatest fear, one of them: Being alone, with no one to help me. This may be what drives my agoraphobia, since it frightens me that anxiety might take hold of me when I’m out and about, feeling dizzy and feeling distant from the world, but not have anyone to hold on to to anchor myself, someone who is my “lifeboat” or my safety net, I suppose.

Odds and Ends

Happy Fourth of July! :)

I've been a bit stressed (ok, a lot stressed, but not at my worst) from starting back to school after taking a term off. And it's not that I don't know what to write about here, I guess I haven't been sure how to write...if that makes sense? But I've also started taking more photographs, so I think I'll just share a few of those I've taken recently and go from there.

Rat

From the head I think this is Kora, but I can't be certain. My pet rats are cute though when they look out from under the blankets when I've got them out for playtime.

Mint

My mint plants may be trying to take over...here we've got chocolate mint, peppermint, lemon balm, and a tiny sunflower that hasn't bloomed yet. They're all clustered around my dragon lamp, and are apparently trying to take over.

And yes, I like dragons. What tipped you off? The three dragons you can see in this photo?

Mother Mary

One of the first things I noticed about Marylhurst, and which I still love, are the statues. This one is of Mother Mary (or the Virgin Mary, as most call her) and you can sometimes find offerings of flowers placed either at her feet or draped over her hands. It's a relaxing spot on campus, and it's amazing how isolated and quiet it feels even though it's placed between a busy highway and the rest of the campus.

Seedling

For whatever reason I wanted to get a photo of this seedling. Based on those trees around it, my guess is that it's a Douglas fir. The photo looks like it should be a hopeful one, since it's showing new life, but then I remember that this tiny tree will be pulled up soon because it's growing in a place that is reserved for people to walk. Seems like there should be a moral there, but I don't know what it is.

Venus and Jupiter

During a sunset earlier this week I was startled to see two bright lights side by side in the sky. After speculating that one might be an airplane heading in my direction, since I didn't think both could be actual sky stuff, I consulted a star chart on my phone. I was rather amazed to realize that I was seeing two planets side by side. I don't know how often this kind of thing happens.

Goodies box!

Earlier this week I ordered roving, a niddy noddy, and a spinning wheel repair kit. For some reason I was surprised to also get samples of roving, though I don't know why because this store has done that before when I ordered from them. This is the start of my reopening Dragonfly's Laughter, this time as a yarn shop. More details to come as I reopen, and I'm rather excited about it.

Different ≠ Other

I'm weird. An oddball. Different. I've known this for ages, ever since I was little and every time I opened my mouth someone in my hometown thought I was from a different continent. That was due to my speech disorder, which seems to have morphed into something of a southern accent and doesn't get comments these days. But I'm still different. Pagan. Bisexual. ADHD. It's not like there's no one else like me out there, but I'm definitely in the minority.

And that's ok. There's nothing inherently wrong with or othering about being different. The problem arises when someone is pushed to the outside, to where they no longer belong.

One of the best examples of this comes from when I was selling Girl Scout cookies outside a store. Someone else was handling the transaction, but I noticed that the customer wasn't sure what to get. Trying to be helpful, I told him "The Tagalongs are my favorite!" The guy looked at me, back at the other Girl Scout helping him, and said in a tone that was almost scornful, "Where's she from? New Zealand?" He then paid no more attention to me, she said nothing about it, and they finished the transaction. It was pretty clear to me though that because of how I spoke, he considered me beneath his notice, except as an object of derision. And then we all pretended like it hadn't happened.

That brief interaction hurt badly. It's only in the past few years that the memory stopped being painful. I want to say that it's because I've learned to not care, but I have to admit that maybe it's because I apparently finally sound like I'm from the continent I've spent my whole life on.

I want to emphasize though, the problem wasn't that someone drew attention to my speech disorder. That was a regular occurrence that I was comfortable with. The problem was being treated as other, as though I didn't belong. Let me show you another way it could have played out that would have been fine.

"The Tagalongs are my favorite!" "Hey, weird accent. Are you from New Zealand?" "No, it's a speech disorder. And I was born down south, but raised up here." "Oh, ok. Hey, are the Thin Mints any good?"

This one would have also stuck in my memory, but only because no sympathy or reassurance that I sounded fine was offered. (Why reassurance ticked me off would be for another post, though.) What makes this scenario so good, to me, is that ultimately my accent doesn't change how I'm treated. Fortunately, my speech disorder hasn't made a difference to most of the people I've met.

As to what prompted this post...I don't know. I can't even say that being different has particularly been on my mind lately, because it always is. It's kind of difficult to go a whole day without being reminded of how I'm different in some way. But something, somehow, got me thinking about how being queer, Pagan, or whatever, doesn't necessarily mean that one has to be an outsider. And I think that's an important thing to remember.

Imagine

Imagine that you're in a wide open meadow, and it's night. Surrounding you are wildflowers, wonderfully scented, and at the edges of the meadow are old evergreens.

You lay down so that the flowers stand above you, and you look up. Above you there are no clouds, and no moon. You can see as far as anything exists, as the evergreens linger at the edges of your vision. There are stars, galaxies, planets...nebulas...more colors than you can imagine, and more of everything than you would have thought possible. And yet, it's still a small sliver of what exists in this universe.

One could feel very small and insignificant at this sight and realization. But imagine that instead, you feel happy beyond words. And fortunate. Happy to be part of Creation, and fortunate that you are able to help Create a very small part of one planet in this amazing universe.

Imagine.

... ... ...

This more or less describes something that came to me during a meditation recently, and I wanted to share it as best that I can.

Sun

Lately I've been thinking about the sun and what it means to me as a symbol. This post might have been better timed a few days ago when Ostara (Pagan-speak for spring equinox) and a solar eclipse occurred on the same day, but that fact sort of occurred to me too late to make it happen.

In one word, what the sun means to me as a symbol: hope.

I've dedicated a couple of pages to this subject in a new journal/sketchbook that I started recently. I've written a few things on the page...

Giver of Life  
A future
Hope
Light
Renewal
Rebirth

"Even the darkest night will end
And the sun will rise!"
~Les Misérables

"Darkness must pass
A new day will come
And when the sun shines
It will shine out the clearer"
~J.R.R. Tolkien

The page in question...with suns, text, and spirals

The page is still under construction, possibly halfway to completion. There are a lot of pages where I start an idea, memory, question, or whatever...and spend some time sitting on it before I decide where to go. It turns out to be very therapeutic, and I find it particularly satisfying to write about something painful and then draw a nice sun over it. Since, you know, tomorrow will (hopefully) be a brighter day. Or, at least, I know the sun will rise again. (Until it eventually dies and in the process devours the earth...sorry, did I just get a bit morbid? Fortunately we don't have to worry about that any time in the near future.)

Oh yes, and as to the Tolkien quote...I made the mistake of trusting something online claiming that it's Tolkien, and I assumed it was a poem of his. It's actually from the movie The Two Towers, something Sam said...but I don't think that Tolkien actually wrote those words, simply based on using this nifty site to search for keywords in his books. So...yeah. Don't trust the internet. (I write on the internet.) Also, the Les Misérables quote was attributed to Victor Hugo, but at least I did do my research there and found that while it's from the musical/opera/whatever (which I freaking love) it doesn't seem to be something Hugo wrote himself.

But back to the subject of suns...or symbols...

Is there something in particular that means "hope" to you? What? And why, if there is a why?

A Pagan Terrier?

"Did either of you put Josie's toy on my altar?"

This question was addressed to my mom and brother. Of course I knew that the answer was no, but I still wanted to ask. But let's back up just a bit.

You can imagine my surprise when I was laboring over an essay and happened to glance over at my altar to see something odd on it. At first I thought that my oil warmer was somehow broken, since it's black and the toy next to it was also black. When I realized that the warmer wasn't damaged I stared at the toy trying to figure out what it was. Hey, it was facing me at an odd angle, and it wasn't where I expected a toy to be.

But, sure enough, Josie had put one of her toys on my altar.

Not just on my altar, but at the very back and more or less center of the altar. Sure it's only at knee level, but being a terrier mix Josie is a smaller dog. She must have gotten on her hind legs to reach back there. Which would be easy enough for her to do, but it would have been less effort to put it on the edge of the altar. Or, you know, drop the toy on the floor. Like I'm pretty sure most normal dogs do.

Maybe Josie was making offerings to the gods? Should I be worried? What god was she petitioning, and what for?

Josie getting tummy rubs from me

Sabine and Samhain

My emotions have been pretty mixed today.

First of all, Sabine. I managed to get a vet appointment for her today to help me determine if it was time to help her on her way. I'd already begun to resign myself to it last night, but wanted to see what my vet said first. After finding out that her condition was worse than I had realized (for example, a bizarre heartbeat) I decided it was time.

Putting down a rat is different from how a cat is put down. It's easy to find a vein on a cat, but rats are too small. So they put Sabine under with gas, first in a chamber and then fit a mask over her head. Once she was asleep they put an injection straight into her heart. It took a bit for her to fall asleep, but she went really quickly after the injection.

I'll get her ashes in a few weeks.

Despite my morning, the day wasn't all bad. I spent it with my boyfriend, who has a knack for making me feel better. He took me out for beer and pizza, and we cuddled while watching movies together. We also celebrated our three year anniversary, which was really last weekend but we'd decided to combine it with Samhain this year.

As for Samhain, I haven't done much for that so far today. I guess I've been too busy thinking about Sabine. But I have listened to a couple Samhain songs in the last couple days, including this one by Heather Alexander.

Imbolc

Today is Imbolc, or Brighid's day. I haven't done much, other than experimenting with new ways to cook bacon and cuddling my boyfriend. No, not at the same time. Not sure how well cuddling and cooking would work if you tried them both at once...

I do want to share a song, though. It's the same one I shared last Imbolc, but it's worth repeating.



And now that Imbolc is here, it looks like the local weather is going to get colder. So much for the winter weather being past, as I'd thought it was. I'm just going to say that if it snows, I want an actual snowfall, not just the little bit that normally happens when people panic over snow in Portland.

Samhain

I admit it, I'm one of those Pagans who requests time off from work for Samhain. And this year I decided that I may as well make it a four day weekend, so I also requested Friday off. Happily, I got off the days I requested.

As I said yesterday this was perhaps the best Samhain/Halloween I've had. Which may be a little strange since we didn't get any trick-or-treaters at my parent's house, and I didn't dress up. However, I did spend the day with my wonderful boyfriend. We watched some movies, including some old Halloween episodes from the Simpsons. He'd also said that he wanted to read me some Edgar Allan Poe poetry, and I said that I will not argue with my boyfriend wanting to read me Poe on Halloween.

Of course, Samhain is also a time to remember those who have passed in the last year. And this year I remember...

Socks, an elderly cat who finally needed to be helped on his way in January. He was a very interesting cat, who liked to bite yet somehow was very sweet. My parents got him for me when I was young, but was eventually more attached to mom than to me. Still, towards the end, he took to sleeping on the foot of my bed and then under it.

Beka, a pet rat who had been very sick and who I'd still hoped to save. We lost her the day after Socks. I remember her stealing an acorn off my altar and bringing it back to me before munching on it, and also that she would lick my face when I cried. She was absolutely lovely.

Grandma, who passed just a couple weeks ago. She'd been in hospice so it wasn't a surprise, and we had known she was in her final days. Still, I'm not sure how to deal with it. I've finally realized that mixed in with my grief is resentment, since she'd never seemed really interested in meeting my brother and me, though she said she was proud of us and loved us. Regardless, it's hitting me hard, as evidenced by the fact that my migraines started within a week after she first went into hospice last May. It took me until the migraine that developed when we knew she was in her final days to make the connection, though.

Great-grandma Sadie, who died before I was born. Towards the end grandma said her mom had visited her and told her that she would be home soon. I also want to mention that I was the first girl born in the family after grandma Sadie died, and am named for her. I've got the name Sarita instead of Sadie though because she apparently hated her name, and both of these names are forms of Sarah.

I also spent some of Samhain spinning yarn. I don't know why, but it somehow seems appropriate to create things on that day. Maybe because even though all lives eventually end the world still goes on, and making things is a good way to remind myself of that.

Samhain Eve

I had a wonderful idea for a blog post this morning...but I forgot it. Lousy memory. I know it was a good idea too. Dangit.

So instead, this Samhain eve I will be sharing the song Samhain Eve by Damh the Bard. Good timing, don't you think?



Funny thing, this is the song that introduced me to Damh the Bard, and I found it while looking for songs about winter solstice. Not sure how that happened.

I find that I don't understand everything in the Bard's songs, for example here I'm still trying to figure out who the Raven Witch is. (If anyone does know, feel free to tell me!) But I do enjoy his music. A lot. :)

Samhain

I'm not in the mood to write much today, but I do want to share a song that I've been saving to share this month.

A Samhain song by Heather Alexander.



There is at least one more Samhain song to follow later this month.

For those who are unfamiliar with this Pagan holiday, it's a time when the veil between this world and the other is thin. Therefore one might say that it is a time of great spookiness, and it's also a time to honor the dead. And although I don't often think of it, judging from this song it is also a celebration of finally finishing up the harvest.

Weirding out the employees

Pentacle
from clker.com

While I was volunteering today, a patron managed to weird out an employee. It may have been my
fault. :)

I always wear my pentacle pendant, though it isn't always visible. If I'm wearing something the pent doesn't look good with, I keep it under my clothing. But I had it visible today, and it caught a woman's attention after I'd been helping her for maybe a minute. "Oh, I hadn't noticed your necklace before."

She looked at me a little warily. Not a "You baby eating devil worshiper evil Satanist horrible person...etc. etc." wary, but more of a trying to take my measure and figure me out. I didn't want to miss what could potentially be a good conversation with someone who I had already guessed to be another Pagan, so after a minute of wondering what to say I offered "It's interesting the different responses I get to it. Some people know what it is, but others ask about it."

"Do you know what it is?" She asked. "Yeah. It's a pentacle." Usually I'll mention it's Pagan, but I don't think I did this time. I figured it wasn't necessary.

We said a few other things, and it ended with her saying "It's good for people to know what they're doing." From her tone, I figured that she had decided that I was ok. I finished helping her and she left.

(At this point, when I was telling my boyfriend the story, he said "Aw, she wanted to make sure you weren't a fluffy bunny!")

Now, enter the employee, who had been standing right there the whole time. Her opinion was: "That was weird." When I disagreed she pointed out "But what was up with her saying that it's good to know what you're doing?" I tried to explain, "She was Pagan. She saw my pentacle and wanted to know if I actually know what I'm doing. It's not the first time I've been questioned by someone a bit older than me. She wanted to make sure that I'm not a fluffy bunny."

"But fluffy bunnies are cute!"

I pondered whether I should try to explain properly about Pagans and our attitudes towards what we term "fluffy bunnies." I concluded that although she is the type of person I could probably discuss Paganism with, the time and place were wrong. So I just told her that fluffy bunnies are people who don't really know what they're doing.

It's interesting to be questioned by someone who's trying to figure out if I'm full of fluff. I think I've passed inspection both times it's happened now.

Note: I sort of wonder now whether I should have told the employee that the patron is Pagan, since the woman didn't actually out herself in a way obvious to anyone who isn't already clued in...? Thoughts, anyone?

Christian Radio

Grandma's radio

I discovered the radio when I was fairly young. Apparently I was fascinated by it, and found one or two particular stations that really interested me. Much to my parents' dismay, the station(s) happened to belong to Evangelical Christians. Yeah, I was raised Christian, but my parents didn't want to pound it into me. As such, they were concerned about me listening to stations that strongly encouraged conversion, and which discouraged questioning. But they decided to just let me listen to whatever I wanted to.

Somehow I lost interest, and I went for years without thinking about the radio. I really only hear it if someone else has turned it on in my presence, and that's pretty infrequent. My mom occasionally reminds me of what I listened to in my early years though, and as a Pagan I now find it quite amusing.

But then, we got a radio for my grandma...

Mom asked me to test the radio to make sure it works. I turned it on to FM, and started playing with the tuner. In well under a minute I happened across a singer whose voice I was amazed by, so I decided to listen. I realized two things pretty quickly: it was probably a Christian station, and the song was pretty repetitive. I decided to stay on the station though, because I really liked the singer's voice even though the repetition was getting on my nerves. I wanted to find out who it was, so that I could look up other songs of hers.

Imagine my frustration when a prayer was begun as soon as the song ended, leaving me with no clue who she was.

I quickly moved on to other stations, pausing briefly at each one. Usually I moved on because I had no interest in what I heard, but I'll admit to shuddering at the one that was playing what sounded like the latest hit songs. (I'm sorry, those don't tend to interest me...and can sometimes get on my nerves.) Finally I found another singer who I liked.

Much to my amusement, it turned out to be another Christian station. Luckily, this was a nice station, meaning that they actually told me who the singer was when the song ended. He was Big Daddy Weave, by the way.

Those were the only two stations that made me stop for a listen. I haven't turned on a radio again since testing that one a couple days ago, but it does appear that I, a Pagan, may have an interest in Christian radio stations. I don't know what my reasons were when I was young, but these days I just like their singers.

Closeted minorities

Bi pride flag

A couple months ago I read a couple of articles on the topic of bisexual invisibility. One I liked, and the other I didn't. (They're here and here. Guess which I liked better. Hint: the one that doesn't tell off all closeted bisexuals.) They both discuss whether closeted bisexuals are to blame for our invisibility, and whether more bisexuals need to be out.

I found this an interesting topic, and want to respond as both a bisexual and as a Pagan. Yep, that's right, I'm responding as a member of two different minorities. And I'm clumping them together at the moment because this is an issue that is often discussed by both. I'll separate them again in a minute.

Pentacle, from clker.com

To start off, yes I think we would all benefit if we had more people out of the closet. The more visibility we have, the easier it is to show people that we aren't baby eating demons. It will also help people realize that yes we do exist.

That being said, I have to agree with Lauren Kinsey that it isn't always possible.

"I believe that some people are in the closet because they don't have the necessary resources to be out and proud in the face of discrimination. Those resources could be economic, emotional or intellectual."

This being the case, I believe that those of us who can come out have a responsibility to seriously consider doing so. But in the end I won't argue with anyone who chooses to stay closeted, no matter their reason(s). It's a very personal decision and the only person whose choice I feel I can judge is my own.

Now I'm going to split up Pagans and bisexuals again so that I can talk about how to be out. In my experience, it's different for both.

For Pagans it can be pretty easy. I wear a pentacle, and as a result am pretty much screaming loud and clear that I'm Pagan. Well, ok, so it gets mistaken for a Star of David at times... *sigh*

As a bisexual it can be harder. Unless I'm somehow making this more complicated than necessary. You can tell me whether you think I'm making a big deal of it unnecessarily (possibly I am) tomorrow when you read the post that I am dedicating to the subject.

Imbolc

Goddess of fire, Goddess of healing,
Goddess of Spring, welcome again. 

I thought that I wasn't going to write about Imbolc this year. First I was writing about something else on the 1st, then I was sort of busy on the 2nd, and then I was sick on the 3rd...was recovering on the 4th...and after that I sort of gave up.

But the latest Pagan Blog Prompt has convinced me that it's not too late to write about celebrations, and what Imbolc means to me. :)




This year, my celebrating took the form of me just cleaning my room. I guess that's sort of trivial, and it's not like I had a huge job to do.

But as cleaned things up and wiped down surfaces, I thought about how just the act of cleaning can itself be a cleansing of sorts, even if you don't actually do any specific ritual or smudge. Even if the fanciest part of cleaning is wiping things down with a disinfecting wipe. Besides...ever heard of spring cleaning?

Which brings me to the next bit of what Imbolc is. It's a time to notice the earliest signs of spring. Things like the red-tailed hawks returning to my neighborhood, as they do each year to nest.

And of course, it is also an excellent day to honor Brighid. She's the goddess I'm most likely to turn to, so her day is pretty special to me. I wound up putting the following song on repeat, and the verse I started this post with are from it.

Who can you talk to?

When I arrived to my volunteer work today I found someone who was excited. She had just received some of the best possible news, and wanted to share. It went something like this:

"I'm organizing a retreat for my church. It's in the fall, in old growth forest near Mount Hood. And I just found out that we're getting monks. They can lead the meditation and yoga, and..."

...there were many more details, and it sounded amazing. I almost wanted to join her church just to go on the retreat, it sounded so fantastic. There wasn't much for me to contribute to the conservation, but I was definitely an enthusiastic listener, and I made it known that I thought the retreat sounded amazing.

And then, she said something that shocked me.

"Thank you for being someone I can tell about this. Most people would look at me weird when I mention meditation and that sort of thing. But I knew I could talk to you."

As a Pagan, I'm used to being limited in who I talk to about my own practices. I don't tell people certain things unless I know them pretty well, or unless I find out that they are themselves Pagan. (Actually, mom has already told this woman things that I wouldn't have chosen to tell her myself. Luckily, she took it really well. And it may be why she was open with me.) Yet it never occurred to me that this person, who is Christian, might not be able to speak openly to just anyone about her own practices.

It still seems strange to me that she can't talk to some people about meditation, and having monks at her retreat, without getting bad responses. Yet I don't think she would have thanked me if she didn't have personal experience with that.

Could it be that having someone who you can talk to is more rare than I had thought?

Down in the Garden

I've been thinking about the song Down in the Garden, since realizing that we might be about to lose Socks. Exactly what my own views on death are is another matter, but I think it is a very beautiful song. Unfortunately I couldn't find a decent video of it on YouTube with the song and just the song, so instead I'm sharing the song where it is interrupted with an explanation of why the songwriter wrote it.



I also wanted to share some photos of Socks. Most are mine, but mom took one or two of them.

I don't even remember when this was taken. He had found a sleeping bag that hadn't been put away yet.

More than five years ago. Dear Socks was helping us unpack for Christmas.

Socks was quite fond of one of my dolls.

Never fear, there is a glass door between Socks and the squirrel.

Close up mug shot. He pretty much always looked grumpy.

Yes, I'm so sorry that the food bag was empty. But it's not like the food bowl was empty, and we got more food before it was in any danger of getting empty. No need to go shoving the empty one around on the floor.

...actually, Kokopelle was in on this one, but I wasn't able to get photographic evidence of that.

As I said, Socks really loved this doll.

I recently mentioned that Socks started sleeping on my bed. Well, after a few days he switched to sleeping under my bed. I figured that it was just because it's warmer under my bed since that's where the vent in my bedroom is.

We got a bed for him that we placed under my bed, so that it would be easier to drag him out for his pills. (He even used it, more than half the time!) He was so frail I worried about hurting him, and it was easier to drag the bed out than to worry about how to hold him.

Kokopell is keeping Socks company in this photo. Socks is on the left, Kokopelle's on the right. Yes, I really can tell them apart.

The Cauldron Born

Here's a song that is either dedicated to Ceridwen, or to her followers. I'm not sure which. Perhaps both? The musician is Damh the Bard.



Yeah, I like Ceridwen. I wanted to share the song "Ceridwen and Taliesin" which is also by Damh the Bard, but can't seem to find it on YouTube. Dangit.