‘God-Bothered’, and what I mean by that

After writing Monday’s post, a discussion with a friend made it clear to me that my definition of ‘god-bothered’ may be quite different from many other people’s definition of it.

When I say being god-bothered isn’t that common, I am not saying it’s not common to have a close and personal relationship with a deity. I think that’s actually fairly common in pagandom.

To me, God-bothered means serious thwappage. I mean when a deity comes in, smacks you upside the head, and says “You’re mine now and that’s final. Deal.” Or something similar.

This happened to me with Morrigan, Brighid, and Hecate. Manannan did reach out to me, but I wouldn’t classify it a thwap. More a gentle tap on the shoulder, saying “Hey, I’m here if you need me.”

In 2007, Morrigan swooped down from a tree branch in crow form and then transformed into a terrifying vision of vaguely humanoid stature before landing in front of quaking, shivering me. (This was in trance.) I believe I stammered out “Are y-you t-the M-m-morrigan?” and didn’t even get to finish my question before She said “Well, DUHHHHHH. Also you’re mine now. Do these things.”

(For the record, I was quaking in shock, not terror. And possibly low blood sugar. She was a terrifying vision, yes — She usually is — but what I mainly felt was shock that She would even look twice at me. Celebrity-shock, let’s call it. I thought She was way too cool to hang out with me.)

Brighid moved in far more subtly just a month later, but I begged Her to come back later because Morrigan had just thwapped me and I didn’t think I could handle Them both right away. She came back in January 2010, right in time for me to celebrate Imbolc for Her. I joined the Cill on TC very quickly and did group Flamekeeping with them for that holiday. When She came back it was very clear She wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer: “Ok, I gave you space. Now. Join the Cill, keep the flame, and celebrate Imbolc for me. Also maybe knit a scarf. And write. Write a lot. Do it. Now.” And that Imbolc I had this spontaneous, deep healing experience during sex with my then-boyfriend. (Yes, you can start singing that silly song if you want; I certainly did.)

Then, when I was at Spring Mysteries Fest, I went to see Hecate’s shrine the day before the shrines opened to petitioners. When I turned to leave I was stopped by this invisible force; I literally couldn’t move. I heard, very distinctly, “Mine.” I quickly said “Yes, Yours!” and then I was allowed to move again.

Those are thwaps. Out of the blue, mystic clue-by-fours from deities who want you to do shit and do it now. I call it being god-bothered because, well, the gods are the ones coming to bother you.

So I am not referring to all close and personal relationships with gods. Just the ones where They come to you, out of the blue, and give you the One Paw Thwap. (This is the name for a method huskies use to hunt mice. The other method is the Perpendicular Bounce.)

Prayers for Peace: Hiroshima and Nagasaki Lantern Ceremony

The lanterns on the water. Photo copyright Morag Spinner.

Yesterday, August 6th, was the 67th anniversary of the Hiroshima bombing. (August 9th will be the anniversary of Nagasaki.) It’s become traditional in various places to hold a lantern ceremony, where paper lanterns are let go on the water as a prayer for peace and the end of nuclear weaponry.

A lantern, lit. Photo copyright Morag Spinner.

I’ve been in Powell River for about two weeks now, and this year my mom hosted the ceremony. I got roped into being her official photographer, which is sort of funny as my ‘camera’ is an Android phone.

Photo copyright Morag Spinner.

The event was mostly solemn; earlier yesterday one of the respected members of the community passed away, so many of the lanterns had messages of love for him. There was a last-minute addition to the program of planting a tree in his honor; this man was a bit like Powell River’s own Lorax, as well as one of the first people in this town to recycle — even when it was illegal. (No, I’m not kidding.)

Photo copyright Morag Spinner.

The mayor made a proclamation of Powell River being a zone free of nuclear weapons and that PR was named a peace capital in 2004 and is committed to remaining so. A local musician did some songs, including All Along the Watchtower, which is basically a religious experience for me. A few people spoke and read poetry.

Photo copyright Morag Spinner.

From Martin Rossander’s celebration of life a while back — held while he was still alive. In honor of all the work he did to save trees.

My mom spoke about growing up in the “duck & cover” era, where school children were taught to duck under their desks in case of nuclear attack. Apparently the wood would protect them. She told us that when she came home as a teenager with a “Ban the Bomb” button on her shirt, her father disowned her — this the same man who fought in the Underground and spent four years in a Nazi prison. Fascism must be stopped, but nuclear devastation is okay.

Photo copyright Morag Spinner

Since 1945 we’ve had the equivalent of 200 Hiroshimas in nuclear testing the world over. Nine countries have nuclear weapons, and if you ask me that’s nine too many. Add our lousy track record with nuclear power stations, and the future looks pretty bleak.

So I put a prayer on my lantern. I made my lantern into a prayer and an offering — a prayer to Manannan for peace, and an offering to my ancestors. The lanterns are completely biodegradable — we put them on cedar planks to float them in the water. They become one with the ocean.

Side one of my lantern. Photo copyright Morag Spinner

To You, Lord Manannan,
we offer up this prayer…
peace
for living, for dead
the wisdom
of the ocean
boundless love
for all

Side two of my lantern. Photo copyright Morag Spinner

To my ancestors
may this flame lotus
bring you light in the dark
and peace in turmoil

I admit the poetry on the lantern is not my best work, but it was very heartfelt — that’s what matters in the end. It’s interesting that on the very day I post about not knowing how to pray, an answer comes to me.

Make my prayer into a physical act. Create something as an act of prayer. Release it to the world — to the gods. 

I may repeat this exercise, or something similar, in the future.

With hope for peace,

-Morag

Prayer, and how it’s difficult

I realized today — I don’t know how to pray.

I do pray, quite often, but it’s always clumsy, and sort of haphazard, like I’m picking my way through a cluttered cabin full of spiritual knick-knacks and doodads, trying to find just the right one for my purposes. Quickly uttered “Dear Brighid, please wrap so-and-so in Your healing light,” or “Manannan, I ask for peace for [name/myself]” or “Morrigan, give me the strength to not punch assholes in the face,” with my face screwed up into knots, hands clasped together hard enough to break bone, my entire body tensed as if clenching my muscles will get my message to the gods any faster.

Thing is, I sort of treat prayer like a request box. And that’s not really what I think it should be; I think it should be a time of quiet reflection, and communion between my gods and myself. I think I should hold my prayer beads and try to get in touch with the god’s essence, try to let myself feel Their love. Not shouting a quick “HI-CAN-I-HAVE-THIS-THING-PLEASE-THANKS-BYE” on Their answering machine.

But I always feel silly when I sit with my prayer beads; even when the gods are so in my head so often, sitting quietly and trying to get in touch with Them makes me feel…like I’m grasping at straws. As if the only communication from Them I can be sure of is the one that’s unbidden, when They come barrelling through the door saying “This needs to be that way,” or “Do that please,” or “Those chicken bones look delicious can I have them oh yes thank you om nom nom.” As if seeking Their guidance out isn’t real enough; They have to come to me for me to be sure of the veracity of Their words.

I suppose this is borne out of…a wary cynicism that takes hold when I listen to other peoples’ accounts of talking to gods. Not everyone; but there are a lot of people who are dead sure they’ve got a direct line to the Divine, that they can just call up any time they like. And it doesn’t really work like that.

Continue reading “Prayer, and how it’s difficult”

30 Days of Paganism: 2. Beliefs — Cosmology

There are several definitions for the word cosmology (no, none of them are “the study of trashy magazines, marketed to women, with horrible sex advice”), but generally speaking in theology the one that’s meant is this one: “A specific theory or model of the origin and evolution of the universe.”

Put in simpler terms, “What does your religion say about the origin and existence of everything?”

I went into this a little bit on Friday’s post about orthodoxy and orthopraxy, and to simplify things there’s a creation myth I’ve written, too.

My path has a creation myth, and I’ve always been a creavolutionist — a person who believes in both creation and evolution. I don’t see how they contradict each other, honestly; in my faith, the big bang is the Smith pounding on Her anvil in the morning; our stars and planets come from the candles in Her house and the sparks made by the hammer and anvil; our souls are the sparks of Her industry. Doesn’t mean She has anything to do with what we look like, or what our planet is composed of, or what animals populate it — this world or any other.

She’s the life force behind all this, but just like a spark does not resemble a flame, or a seed a tree, nor do Her actions resemble what we have now.

The Universe itself is made up of stars and darkness. Her and the Deep One. They become one, when the Universe is stretched out, expanded; They are the very make-up of existence. They are so vast and fathomless that we cannot possibly know Them; and while They may not know us individually, They love us all.

The Phantom is the breath of this universe; while the Smith and the Deep One form its actual physical existence, the Phantom is the wind that blows through the cosmos, igniting souls with passion and belief. Strength and self-actualization come from the Phantom — the will to move forward.

The spark from the Smith’s anvil became the core of our earth; rocks spun around it to create our planet. Eventually the planet becomes hospitable to life, and life evolves. And continues evolving, until eventually there’s us, and life continues to evolve, and we have no idea what the future will hold.

Bits of the Smith, the Deep One, and the Phantom break off to become separate beings that still have the essence of Their “parents”. These are the gods, and through Their interaction with Their worshippers, They evolve and change too. The gods I honor and love and worship in this path are not the Smith, the Deep One, and the Phantom — but They are from those three, the three that form the creation myth of my faith. And the Smith is also the Lady of the Stars, and Brighid is Brighid of the Stars as well.

Everything comes from these Three that create and are the universe. They are the divinity immanent within all beings and places.

That’s the origin and existence of everything in the universe, according to my faith.

Orthodoxy vs. Orthopraxy

In case you need more Morag this week, I’ve also posted at Maenads of the (R)Evolution (MaRE for short), my project with partner-in-crime-and-awesomeness Daniel Grey (aka Sage or Danny).

As well, Veggiewolf also did a post on Obesity for Pagan Blog Project, and it’s pretty damn good. You should read it.

Now. On to the second O. (Sounds like a normal night for me.)

Orthodoxy vs. Orthopraxy

There’s a lot of discussion in pagan circles about pagan religions being orthopraxic as opposed to orthodoxic. This is sometimes accompanied with a bit of a snooty air — orthopraxic is obviously better than orthodoxic, because who wants to believe the same thing as other people? That’s just like Christianity!

Well, not really. A good religion, in my opinion, has a balanced blend of orthodoxy and orthopraxy.

First, let’s define these terms, so we know what I’m talking about (that’s a first). It should be said that the way these words are most often used within pagandom religious discussions isn’t entirely correct. We generally use orthodoxy to refer to right belief and orthopraxy to refer to right action — that is, to belong to an orthodoxic religion, it doesn’t matter what you do so long as you believe. To belong to an orthopraxic one, you must act correctly — but can believe in the Flying Spaghetti Monster for all that matters.

Technically the definitions state that orthodoxy is “the condition, quality, or practice of conforming, especially in religious belief” (1) and orthopraxy is “Theol the belief that right action is as important as religious faith” (2). But then again, words change, and if we pagans are using them differently then that’s what I’m going to address.

What does it mean for a religion to be orthodoxic/orthopraxic?

An orthodoxic religion requires adherence to key tenets of the faith from its followers. Stuff like accepting that Jesus Christ is the one and only son of god, and that he died for our sins — those are tenets of the Christian faith, and you can’t really rightly call yourself a Christian if you don’t believe that. (I’m referring to general Christianity here; not all the differing tenets of differing denominations — this is a pagan blog and I don’t have all day.)

An orthopraxic religion requires that its participants participate in the way the religion has specified.  ADF is a good example of this — for a ritual to be an ADF ritual it must follow their Core Order of Ritual, it can’t contain things like calling the four elements, casting a circle, or blood sacrifice, and the gods must be recognized in a Neo-Druidic structure. Most ADF members have widely differing beliefs about the gods, about the nature of the gods, the nature of the cosmos, and so much more. Many members have more than one religion — ADF and a personal one. (I, personally, am studying ADF because I want a public religion where I can commune with other pagans.)

There’s nothing inherently wrong with either type of religion; it’s just that alone, it can be unbalanced.  (It’s also important to note here that an orthodoxic religion like Christianity may also have some form of right action, or othropraxy, with it. That doesn’t mean this part is emphasized or even acknowledged; a lot of times right belief is seen to be the most important thing.)

Why should these two things balance?

Orthodoxy is all well and good if you truly do believe in the teachings of Christ. But when your actions don’t match? When you pay lip-service to being a good Christian to get your soul into heaven, but refuse to give charity to the poor, judge first, and are generally the very opposite of Christ-like…in my mind, you’re not a good Christian at all. In fact, you’re not a Christian — because you’re not committing to the right action your faith has set out for you. Christ was a cool dude; he was nice to prostitutes, lepers, and the “dregs” of humanity. I see so few Christians following in his footsteps, and yet that’s what their faith is supposed to be about.

As well, what is action without belief? From time to time we all must fake it till we make it, but when all you’re doing is faking it?

I don’t have huge investment in ADF structure, but I do have investment in the Hellenic gods and what They want from me. Whether I stay in ADF or not remains to be seen, but so long as I’m in it all my right actions will still carry faith behind them, or they’re empty gestures, nothing more than waving at the darkness, trying in vain to keep it at bay.

An example: The Sacred Triad

As you know, I often call my own personal religion The Sacred Triad, or Triadism. I’m working on a better name, trust me. It’s my hope that in several years I’ll be able to share this religion with other pagans who are interested in an already-built genderqueer faith.

In the meantime, I know a few things. I know I don’t want my religion to be dogmatic; I know I want it to be a non-initiatory Mystery tradition; and I know that it’s going to be orthodoxic and orthopraxic.

Some things you have to accept to be part of this religion: Brighid, Morrigan, and Manannan are facets, or “children”, of three greater beings who are seen as the creators of the universe (whether you literally believe in creation or not doesn’t matter; it’s the symbolism). These beings are called by many names, but mostly The Lady of the Stars/the Smith, The Lady-Lord/Sovereign of Blood/the Phantom, and The Lord of the Frozen Depths/the Deep One. They form a sacred triad of life/sex/death, female/genderqueer/male, sky/land/sea, fire/blood/water, healing/war/peace.

This religion is very connected with our bodies and the land we live on; there is not much concern with afterlife. In general followers can believe whatever they want about the afterlife; the only sameness is that they must accept that it is Manannan who embraces them at the end of their life and takes them to wherever they’re going. So if you believe that death is the end, that’s it, then you would know that Manannan will greet you before taking you to oblivion.

Some practices that are required: shifts every 20 days for Them. Brighid is flamekeeping, so you can find a Cill and build your other shifts around Hers. Landbinding happens six days after Flamekeeping; Seaseeking seven days after Landbinding; Flamekeeping seven days after Seaseeking. What you do on these shifts is up to you, but it must be Work for the particular deity.

Celebrations of the holidays in honor of Them: Imbolc is Brighid’s time; Beltane is Morrigan’s; Samhain is Manannan’s. I’m working on creating a fourth festival for August that celebrates all three of Them. Even if you can’t get it together to do anything major for these days, the days must be marked and remembered.

Obviously the religion isn’t finished yet, and please don’t consider this official publication. Everything I say here is subject to change. I just wanted to give you an example of a religion that blends orthodoxy and orthopraxy without becoming too dogmatic (hopefully), and this one is the one I know the best.

That’s all I’ve got. I’ll see you after the weekend, probably, with more Pagan Blog Project catch-up.

Landbinding

Trees that Island Timberlands wants to cut down. Copyright Morag Spinner.
Trees that Island Timberlands wants to cut down. Copyright Morag Spinner.

I mentioned Landbinding once, I think, in my blood sacrifice post. Since then I’ve been meaning to actually talk about what Landbinding is, or at least what sorts of nebulous ideas I’ve got about it. Danny’s post yesterday, The Morrigan, The Goddess of Blood, sort of spurred me on, and now here we are.

When I keep the flame I am kindling a part of Brighid — She who is the Flame Herself — and keeping Her safe with me; I am keeping my love for the gods alive in my heart, may They never fade away.

When I bind the land I am binding it to me and myself to it — I am becoming one with the dark, loamy soil; I am remembering my connection to all living things; I am giving blood to the earth, for it is so very hungry.

As part of the Lady of the Stars phenomenon a song was written by one of our members. The lyrics are, partially, Lady of the Star Fire / speak to me, speak to me. I started composing a secondary song to the same tune for Morrigan: Lady of the blooded land  / grow in me, grow in me. One is in the works for Manannan, as well — Lord of the frozen depths / bring me peace, bring me peace — but that’s another topic.

The land is sex, and death, and blood; the ocean is sex, and death, and blood — Morrigan and Manannan represent two similar energies that are held together by the gravity of fire: Brighid, the sun. Morrigan is the one who gives death; Manannan takes the dead away. Brighid brings life, and heals the sick.

Binding myself to the earth means acknowledging my own humanity, my mortality, my fragility; it means reaffirming my life as Her tool; it means a reciprocal relationship with the soil, blood for blood, strength for strength, love for love.

My activities for my Landbinding shift could be simple, or complex. I could be flagellating myself for Her, for pain reminds me of my humanity, and it is an offering. I could just go and be in the woods; take off my shoes and let my toes sink into the dirt. I could give my blood to Her.

Or I could any other activity that She wants me to do — the book is pretty open, here. I do Her work more often than once every 20 days, of course, but Landbinding shifts are a good time to remember that’s what I’m here for. So if that means engaging in the blogosphere for social justice, or standing my ground in a face-to-face confrontation, or having really amazing, sacred sex, or working out at the gym until I want to drop, whether from pleasure or exhaustion I can’t tell, or gardening — yes, gardening, for She is the land, and as Her godslave it is my duty to work the land — any of those things are suitable for Landbinding. Those things, or other things, or whatever She damn well tells me to do.

I am the land, and the land is me. Bound for all eternity.

30 Days of Paganism: 1. Beliefs – Why Paganism?

Why not?

Honestly, though, I was fairly raised pagan. My mom is Buddhist, and she taught me about Tara’s many manifestations, as well as the bodhisattvas, and taking refuge, and meditating. I spent a lot of time reading all the Greek myths, and Zeus and Hera and Athena and Artemis were all as real to me as my teachers and classmates. My formative years were spent in a house that sat on a huge parcel of land; in the back yard we had mountainous forest that I knew like the back of my muddy hands; my dad built me a tree-house; I had several forts across the property where I would go, alone, to just be with the earth; and every year dad made my sister and me work in his garden. There was frequently bear stool in our yards, and cougar sightings were common in our neighbourhood.

You can barely see him, but on the right hand side of the trail, right above the yellow gate, there’s a wolf-dog. He’s a part of my family, even when so wild. Photo copyright M. Spinner.

One October, a swallow flew into the window-glass of the garage and died. We dissected it on the dinner table, and discovered its belly was full of ants. “He had a big Thanksgiving dinner, too,” my dad joked with me. Another time, a hummingbird flew into the glass and was injured. We nursed it back to health and released it to the wild.

Continue reading “30 Days of Paganism: 1. Beliefs – Why Paganism?”

Cleaning the Storm Windows

That’s not a metaphor, strictly speaking.

I did actually spend the greater part of yesterday and some of Saturday cleaning storm windows in my mother’s house.

But I think it could be a great metaphor.

The house is old, and creaky, and the porch wood has warped with the constant leaks and floods. We wrestled each window down, and rubbed the wood down with oil soap. I then cleaned each pane of glass three times — three panes per window; six windows. It’s possible they hadn’t been cleaned since the 1930s.

They’re not spotless, but they are now free of decades-old cobwebs and spider corpses; we can see through them well enough. The house looks as if better care has been taken.

And they will protect us from storms.

Continue reading “Cleaning the Storm Windows”

“Obesity”, or Fuck Off, Pagan Concern Trolls

I’ll admit I’ve been a little absent from the pagan blogosphere this past week (and other blogospheres; I think my brain is still camping out in the woods). But I haven’t been oblivious, and today I actually sat down to read a few of the posts floating around about the “epidemic” of “obese pagans”.

I’m not surprised Peter Dybing, who has proved himself to be an asshole to me in the past, writes a post in which he proves he’s not a doctor that is tellingly named “normal” in the URL (EDIT as of August 14th, 2012 — Dybing has deleted his original post for some unfathomable reason; Google cache still has it up and so here is a screencap) — so wait, you’re saying that I’m not normal because I’m fat? Well thank all the gods for that! Normal is just a setting on the dryer to me.

One of the most valued principles within the Wicca community is that all bodies are sacred and beautiful. This is so engrained in our culture that that we have developed a collective amnesia concerning the health affects of obesity.

Ah, yes, those health affects! Wait, don’t you mean effects? Next time just use the word impact; it means the same thing. (I realize correcting grammar makes me look childish, but if you’re going to talk about how unhealthy I am without any proof or medical knowledge — without knowing, frankly, a godsdamned thing — then you can at least do it with proper grammar. You owe me that much.)

So. Those health effects of obesity. Well, it’s true that a lot of health problems have been connected to obesity. What’s not true is that obesity causes them. Correlation does not equal causation — come on, we learned this in elementary school. (Or, at least I did, but that was in Canada, and before No Child Left Behind.)

There’s only one health problem that obesity does indeed cause — just one. Want to know what it is?

Social ostracizing and hatred from fellow human beings, leading to depression, isolation, and self-destructive tendencies. 

And even then not all obese people suffer from it. Some of us just have it on a day or two, and are fine the rest of the time. Still more of us contemplate suicide because of how badly we’re treated by the people around us — and yes, I was one of them.

Granted, I have PTSD and other mental problems, but I’d be lying if I said I’d never contemplated suicide because I was tired of being treated like dirt because of my size.

So yeah, I guess you’re right, Dybing! I should have just lost the weight and my mental health would have suddenly improved! Why didn’t I think of that? It’s so simple! 

He goes on to say:

Over the past ten years I have had many discussions about this issue with my partner after attending Pagan gatherings. In our private moments we have felt safe to express our concern to each other about this nearly endemic problem in our community. We have observed multiple individuals suffer from obesity and have read the statements of sympathy to their communities and families upon their passings.

Glad to know that up until now you’ve only felt safe to discuss other people’s bodies and health behind their backs, Dybing. That’s fucking classy.

Continue reading ““Obesity”, or Fuck Off, Pagan Concern Trolls”

My current altar for the Hellenic deities

image

My altar to the Hellenic deities is still a work in progress, but I’m slowly getting there.

image

I suppose it began with Hecate. I’d already made the decision to start to worship the Hellenic deities and had set up one shrine — to Hestia — before Spring Mysteries Fest. But it didn’t really become an ongoing project until Hecate thwapped me. Then, when I was in Carefree Buffalo in Oregon, where a friend works, I saw and smelled this really expensive candle, and knewit was for Her. (It smells like the woods.) After that I realized the toad statue I’d bought at Mysteries was also for Her.

image

Then came Dionysus. Erin gave me this candleholder when I visited her; the purple candle and ribbon are my additions.

image

Next was a candle for Hera — I saw this on sale and decided it was just too perfect. I still need a candle for Zeus. Or a statue of Them both.

image

image

image

Now Demeter, Kore/Persephone, and Hades. The bat candle holder I’ve had for a while, and honestly it’s mostly a placeholder until I can find something more suitable for Him. The green one is quite perfect for Kore/Persephone, I think, especially when paired with the glass pomegranate seed She gave me at SMF. And the purple one with grapes and vines could be seen as more appropriate to Dionysus than Demeter, but until I find a wheat-themed candle holder, this one is Hers.

image

image

image

Now come the unknowns. I’m sort of leaning towards Apollo for the goldish one, and…no idea for the lotus. It was too cool to pass up, though. The wick goes right to the bottom of the glass, meaning when the water level goes down so will the flame. I think it’s pretty neat.

Still missing: Zeus, Athena, Artemis, Hephaestus, Hermes, Pan, Ares possibly, The Mousai, and Gaia.