Know Thyself — response to a challenge

This is inspired by Aisling’s post about a week ago. I took on her challenge and have come up with a list of 10 things that are kind of essential about me.

  1. Witch.
  2. Lover of justice.
  3. Broken.
  4. Slytherin.
  5. Writer.
  6. Stubborn.
  7. Mean streak a mile wide and deeper still.
  8. Genderqueer.
  9. Addictive personality.
  10. Superiority complex.

This list is actually fairly short and doesn’t really do me justice, but it was hard enough to come up with these ten items and still be brutally honest. My boyfriend jokingly suggested that I put down “ash and carbon” because if we immolated me that’s all that would be left, and so is “quintessentially me”. (Har, har.)

Continue reading “Know Thyself — response to a challenge”

Immanence

We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience.

—Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

That quote may seem rather cliché, especially to many pagans (or anyone who listens to that idiot Wayne Dyer), but it’s always rung true for me on some level. Sure, I am human, and yes, I do have spiritual experiences — but I’m never not connected to that divinity, to the Source that permeates all.

I’m a medium-scrambled polytheist. But I’m also a pantheist and a panentheist. I believe that the divine is not only immanent within the universe but transcends it as well. Now you see where the scrambled comes in — it takes a certain amount of paradox for these beliefs to exist side by side. That’s okay, though, because paradoxes are holy.

The Morrigan is an individual, to me; She is one being, She is not an archetype. But She comes from somewhere — we all do — and She doesn’t stand alone, just like the rest of us — we’re all defined by relationships. Just as I am an individual being and not an archetype, I’m made up of relationships: the relationship of plants and animals making the food my body takes in as nourishment, of love and DNA with my mother, of air in my lungs that I breathe out as CO2 to feed plants who in turn breathe out O2 to feed me. This doesn’t mean I’m indistinguishable from my mother, or plants and animals, but that we all exist in a web of relationships, and that each relationship is important to each other. 

This is, to me, the core of immanence. Each point in the complicated web of relationships that makes up life on this planet comes from the divine source. “We are all thoughts in the divine mind,” as Christopher Penczak would say. If you read my creation story of the Smith, the Deep One, and the Phantom, you’ll see my ideas on this: the universe was created by a trio of divinity; They created our souls, and the souls of every living thing on earth (and all planets with life on them). They also created Themselves — reflections of Themselves, Their “children”, who would become gods and goddesses for us to worship here on earth, in forms we could comprehend.

So Brighid would come from the Smith, who is also the Lady of the Stars, and we would know Her to be patroness of writing, and healing, and the forge, and we would understand a small part of the vastness of space and the stars within. Manannan mac Lir would come from Deep One, who is the great void between stars, the water in which the fire dwells, and we would know Him as lord of the oceans and the land of the dead, as the rain and the mist, as a gentle, loving figure, full of mirth — or a man as powerful and virile as the sea itself. Morrigan would come from the Phantom, who is the one Between, neither one nor the other, bringing balance to duality, and we would know Her as the queen of fighting, fornication, and firewater, Lady of the Dead, the dark soil, the blood in our veins, ruler of sovereignty — over ourselves and the land.

And there are other original sources, besides the Smith and the Deep One and the Phantom, sleeping in the dark until the Smith will bring the day again and They can wake up. They contribute Their own energy to the Smith as She forges our souls, so we all come from all of Them.

Those original Ones are immanent within each and every thing on this planet, and we each have a relationship with those things.

We are never not connected to divinity. It’s hard to remember, in the crush of daily life, and keys for remembrance are important. That’s why things like ritual, art, song, dance, religion become so important to humans — they help us remember.

And when we create, we put a little bit of ourselves into our creations — so art and music, they have divinity immanent within, too.

Immanence is divinity within, made up of a web of relationships. We can’t exist in a vacuum, and neither can the gods. 

 

PS: Totally relatedly, I once created a magazine with my business partner/friend/buddy-guy and we called it Immanence. It’s an art and culture and sustainability magazine for Powell River, on the Sunshine Coast, and it’s still going strong. Going, at least. Yes, I came up with the name, and I used to have a column called The Isis Crisis: Old Gods for a New World, where I would give 101 introductions to random pagan goddesses (gods, too, eventually — I wanted to start with the feminine principle because we’re so indoctrinated into thinking male = default). It wasn’t anything radical by my standards, but it was by Powell River‘s standards.

No, I don’t live there anymore. Wonder why.

The Key

I wear a key around my neck. It rests on a chain next to a silver and gold (or gold and white gold; can’t tell) snake pendant and a gold ring with a small sapphire in it (that has never fit me, so on my necklace it stays). The key itself is silver colored, and looks like a standard house key.

The snake is from my mom. The ring was my grandmother’s (sapphire was her birth stone). The key I received from Hekate at Spring Mysteries Festival, and I have worn it ever since.

(I wore, for a time, two beads on this same necklace — both red, one given to me by Persephone and one by Hestia at the same festival. However they were strung on thread that ended up fraying and breaking, and so they sit in my house until I can figure out where to put them.)

I realize now what She really gave me. It was the key to myself. The more I wear it, the stronger I become. I grow, and I molt. I shed my skin. Unlocking the carapace of hurt, the protective shield that guarded against more hurt, that has covered me for so long and allowing the true Morag to come forth.

This is not a bing bang boom deal, over and done with in an instant. It’s a journey. A threshold I will stand in for a long time now, until I’m finally ready to walk through and into the next room. I’m in a liminal space now. The key has opened the door and I stand in it. I feel the power of that doorway. I gather the courage to take the next step.

Eve and Reproductive Rights

Something that a lot of pagans have always associated with fertility is the pomegranate. I’ve been to Beltane rituals that used pomegranate as a symbol of fertility; search “magic associations of pomegranate” and you’ll find several sites attesting to its good fertility magic. Even the New Age health nuts attest to its great fertility powers.

This is something I’d never really questioned, mainly because I hate pomegranate (I had to eat the seeds, once, and I nearly vomited) so it never mattered to me. However, I recently got curious about it — perhaps because of my post about Eve which led to me being linked to another post that explored the idea of her forbidden fruit being a pomegranate, instead of an apple — which makes decidedly more sense, considering the climate of “Eden”. (I would link to the post, but it has 404ed on me. The thought is not uncommon, however, and can be found in great abundance all over the internet.) Perhaps because of my recent re-involvement with the Hellenic deities, and specifically Persephone/Kore.

The pomegranate has historically been used as a contraceptive and abortifacient. Mythically it has even been said to cause Persephone to go sterile — making Her the Queen of the Dead and no longer a fertile maiden. The fruit has even been said to reduce sexual desire — so why it’s seen as a sex-increasing plant and used so extensively in Beltane rituals, I’m not sure.

Perhaps it is because of the association with Persephone — after all, it’s fairly common not to look at the deeper meanings of a myth. “Persephone? Pomegranate? Fertility goddess? Boom, correspondence chart done!”

So, knowing that the pomegranate was most likely a contraceptive and that it’s highly likely Eve’s “apple” was actually this other red fruit…what conclusions can be drawn?

It was never about general knowledge. It was about the knowledge of reproduction  — and controlling that knowledge. 

When Eve ate that ‘apple’ she took control of her own body — and we all know there’s nothing the Christian god hates more, right? (Actually, in all likelihood that god doesn’t give a shit. But we’re not really talking about what he wants; just what his followers think he wants.)

Perhaps this can be a new symbol in our fight for reproductive rights: Eve, eating the pomegranate. Symbolically, if you hate the taste as much as I do.

This is Amusing

This is a screencap of four of the 10 spam comments that are currently in my spam filter. Notice anything that links them all together?

Yeah. They’re all on that one post. And about 90% of the total amount of spam comments I’ve been receiving since posting that (which, by the way, has gone up exponentially) have appeared on that one post.

Which leads me to believe that spambots have chosen feminism as one of the best topics on which to spam. Why, I don’t know, but they have.

I am angry. (Trigger Warning)

Trigger Warning: rape.

I am a bee head-butting the aggressor; a snake poised to strike; a cat with its ruff all up, pupils gone large, claws extended.

I was just upset. Upset as in sort of sad, sort of disappointed. I was just that, just that lower amount of emotion, that lower energy output of “Well, that’s very sad and disappointing, especially coming from a friend, but I cannot let myself get too worked up, because there are Other Things on my plate.”

Now I am worked up. Now I am angry.

Because of this, and this.

It’s not just a train wreck of epic proportions. It’s something that effects me — and people I love — personally.

Because, while the word rape may not “reduce me to a quivering mass of sobs” every time I see it, it still hurts me when it comes out of the blue, sans trigger warning. It still hurts when I see it used cavalierly.

And I have at least one friend who has recently gone through this sort of thing who cannot hear the word, cannot say it, cannot read it. We call it “the R-word” because the hurt is too fresh for zir.

Continue reading “I am angry. (Trigger Warning)”

I used to be a “cool” rape victim. Until I wasn’t anymore.

TRIGGER WARNING.

When I was 19, 20, 21 I was okay with rape jokes. I told them frequently. I laughed when others told them. And I often used the word rape to refer to anything but.

I had been raped, at this point. I was a victim, survivor, whatever terminology is appropriate. I knew I had been raped. It happened when I was 10 years old, at the hands of my stepbrother. But still, I was okay with rape jokes. In fact, I frequently engaged in one with my then-boyfriend and his friends: “A [random object] full of RAPE.” We would say, all the time, “It was like a mango tree full of RAPE” to refer to, well, anything at all. We thought it was hilarious.

I also thought that those who couldn’t handle what was all in good fun were weak, and stupid, and I would frequently respond to their complaints of “Hey, you stepped on my toes” with a heartfelt “FUCK YOU FOR HAVING TOES.”

I thought I was soooooo cool, that I was a rape victim but I could handle rape jokes. I was “hot shit.” I thought I was a cool rape victim, one you wanted to be friends with, and  I couldn’t imagine being a shivering husk, a pile of tears, at the mere mention of rape — because obviously that’s what all rape victims were. But not me. Oh no.

Continue reading “I used to be a “cool” rape victim. Until I wasn’t anymore.”

Justice — it’s not an idle concept. It’s a responsibility.

While I wanted to do a post on Justice for a while, much of this post is inspired by this one, and adds to the argument presented there. TRIGGER WARNING for discussion of rape, abuse, murder, marginalization, etc; do not read the comments in some linked articles unless you have a strong stomach. 

Witchcraft gives us power.

I won’t deny this. It’s what attracted me to it in the first place. I was a disempowered, powerless pre-teen dealing with divorce, bullying, abuse, and a lot more shit. Witchcraft, I thought, would give me power to bring back some balance in my life – to stop the bullies (among whom was my father).

I soon learned that Witchcraft would not give me the sort of Hollywood-type control I imagined over my life – I could not, for example, make my dad stop being a jerk. But I could empower myself to not feel so wretched all the time.

Something I didn’t learn for a long time, not until I’d been practicing Witchcraft for years, is that the tweeny vaguely-NeoWicca books I’d read and the ‘advice’ I’d received from older pagans had been full of lies: there is a place for bindings, and jinxes, and curses. And they give you just as much power as the practice of Witchcraft itself.

We live in a world where laws & law enforcement hurt more than they help; where people do not find justice unless they exist on specific, correct axes of privilege: how many outraged news stories will swarm around a young, pretty white girl getting murdered, for years on end, when the news of a brutal murder of a black teenager is silent for over a month, and quickly loses radio time and becomes a joke?

How many murders of trans folk can you name or even remember? How many trans folk are continually misgendered in most media stories about them? How many people know the difference between transgendered and transvestite? How many people are actually aware of trans non-binary genders?

How many actual rapists go to jail? (Though I don’t agree that jail = justice 100% of the time, that’s a discussion for later.) How many times do we question a rape victim’s word? How many times is it suggested, that, say, an 11-year-old who was gang-raped was ‘asking for it’ because she ‘dressed sluttily’? Or any other example of a woman not being properly virginal, and thus deserving such assault?

How many rape victims are afraid to come forward because of these attitudes? How many refuse to go to the police because they know they can be treated as liars and refused rape kits? How many men are afraid to speak up because our rape culture says that if you were raped you were asking for it, and that makes you weak, and therefore men could never ever be in that position, and we will ridicule any man who says he was? Or talk about how it’s so funny, and he should be “careful what he wishes for,” or told to “man up” already – because all men, everywhere, want sex so bad they don’t care if it’s nonconsensual, right?

How many people continually use the word rape as a joke, or to refer to things like getting scammed or losing money or watching the earth get destroyed, with no thought to how triggering it can be to a rape victim? ‘Cause, honestly, I don’t care if you do feel it was the right word for the situation — you just reminded me of two of the most horrible experiences of my life. To describe losing at a video game/getting overcharged/desecration of sacred places/pollution/a whole host of things that are not anything like rape. Especially when there are a host of other words out there that will work just as well: English has 250,000 words. You can find one other than rape.

We live in a world where there is little the individual can do to protect the earth for future generations: how much of a difference is picking up litter on the beach going to make in the face of oil spills, fracking, nuclear disasters, and corporate policies that keep the earth good and poisoned?

We have very little power in this world. Witchcraft gives us back some power.

If you’re not using it for justice, then what the fuck are you doing?

I am sometimes called on by my Triad to do curses or bindings in the name of justice. My Ladies are really big proponents of social justice, and that’s part of the work I do for them – whether it’s being an activist by going to rallies or marches or signing petitions, or by cursing rapists and abusers.

Yes, I have cursed abusers, and yes, it does work.

Waiting for “karma” or “the universe” to do its work is bullshit. While you’re waiting, innocent people are suffering.

Using magic for justice is not an ethical debate. It’s a godsdamned responsibility to the people you share the earth with. And I swear to gods, if one more person starts going “BUT BUT THE THREEFOLD LAW, WHAT ABOUT THAT? WHAT ABOUT THE REDE? *screeches; wrings hands*” I will use my wand as a physical weapon.

Not a magic user? There are other ways of supporting justice.

  • Make offerings to your deities, asking Them for Their intervention.
  • Bring attention to injustice when you see it, and make it clear that it cannot stand.
  • Donate time, energy, money, or awareness of to organizations that try to help victims of injustice.
  • Fucking pray.
  • Call out people when they make statements that contribute to racism, rape culture, transphobia, queerphobia, misogyny, etc.
  • Believe someone when sie says sie’s been raped. Period.
  • Pick up litter.
  • Center the voices of oppressed people.
  • Stop using the word rape to refer to anything but sexual violence, and stop using it as a joke. It’s not a joke, and it’s not pollution/losing at Halo/getting scammed.

This list is actually full of things magic-users should be doing too. It’s not an either or. Magic should be backed up with non-magical action.

It’s also an incomplete list, so if you have things to add, please do so in the comments.

Fear + Action

Fear is under my skin like St. Anthony’s Fire

–Onion Girl, Holly Cole

I mentioned previously that I live in fear of being alone all the time. This is true. It’s also true that I live in fear of many other things. Fear saturates my life.

This is not necessarily a bad thing. While it may [currently] keep me from making new friends, because there are some hurts I cannot weather, it does not keep me from the life I want to live and love. Rather, it galvanizes me, making me spring into action to keep my fears from becoming real.

Fear of failing as an author translates into the action of making myself better through revision and editing, revision and editing, and receiving feedback from nice people. (Nice people because there’s only so much my fragile ego can take at this point.)

Fear of fucking up my relationship with my boyfriend translates into the action of constantly being on guard against old relationship patterns; the action of doing battle against my ingrained patterns and beliefs that seek to destroy me because of a life full of betrayal and hurt.

Fear of losing my right to personhood because white het cis dudebro politicians believe those with uteruses cannot make our own decisions translates into pro-choice activism and fighting for my future in a country increasingly leaning to the totalitarian wind blowing in from the south.

Fear of damaging myself during various magical acts translates into doing my research and taking some fucking precautions.

Being scared means you still have something to lose.

–Grey’s Anatomy, Episodes 9&10, Season 4

Obviously this doesn’t always work. Fear of the Vashta Nerada/the dark translates into my never sleeping again; fear of clowns translates into my peeing myself during certain movies. Etc.

Also, there comes a point where my fear becomes crippling; bone-terrifying, and I freeze up, unable to do anything because I’m so sure that no matter what choice I make I’ll fuck up. That’s a self-esteem issue, and one that I’m working on.

But by and large being scared can be good. While reciting the Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear can work in the extreme cases, where fear makes one freeze up, I do not believe that fear is always the mind-killer. We evolved to feel fear for good reasons (you should fear certain animals/beings, because they can and will kill you and eat you) and that should not be discounted. And when we feel fear for other reasons — no matter how silly we think those reasons are — we should look frankly at it and accept that those reasons are valid, and then work towards being able to act even with fear.

You can’t eliminate fear. You need to act with it to get things done.