Tuesday, November 29, 2011

What real salvation is

I discovered an old email account that had a lot of unread emails on it so I went into it to delete them, only to discover my old Christian ladies email loop from ten years ago.  Wow!  I was such a self-righteous bitch.  But I have to say, not as bad as some on that loop.  One comment was about how there were too many gay women posting on a message board we used to frequent and how awful it was that the other "Christian" women didn't have a problem with them flaunting their "sin."  I do remember that conversation vividly and to my relief, I kept silent about it.  But I know what my feelings were about it and I was one of those who looked down my nose at the sinfulness of homosexuality, patting myself on the back that I really, truly did love them.  Just not their "sin."

That's one of the big lies of Christianity.  Love the sinner, hate the sin.  They do no such thing.  They hate the sinner, too.  They loathe them, look condescendingly at them, use them as examples of what evil looks like, discriminate against them and preach sermons against them.  But that's what love looks like in fundie-ville.  They really think that "tough love" is true love. 

Looking back on that email loop, I'm so appalled by my thinking at that time.  Maybe that's why I'm so bitter now and why I won't put up with that kind of talk from Christians today, even liberal ones.  I despise the person I was as a Christian so why would I want to be around people who are just like I was?  Not to mention the hateful way they treated my youngest.  Yeah...love the sinner, hate the sin.  They hate the ones who are different, poor, alone.  The only reason they pay any attention to them is to get them "saved" and to score another brownie point with their score-keeper.

Another thing I noticed that disgusted me about my behavior was the way we talked about people who died.  The first question out of our heads was "were they saved?"  Seriously.  As if that was the only thing that mattered.  One woman said neither she nor her husband cried when his dad died because he wasn't "saved."  I expressed so much anguish over loved ones who had died who weren't "saved" also.  In my old fundie church whenever it was announced that someone's family member had died, the first question asked was about their "salvation."  Because their lives, what kind of people they were, who loved them, never mattered as much as whether or not they had ticked the right box on the salvation question.  And it wasn't enough that they were a Christian.  They had to be the right kind of Christian.  As in...Catholics and Episcopalians most likely weren't saved.  Any liberal Christian, probably not.  Definitely not if they were Jewish or Muslim.  Or Pagan.  No one even bothered to ask about a Pagan's salvation as it was known that they were worshiping false gods, therefore were worshiping Satan and we all know what happens to Satan-worshipers, don't we?

I'm deleting the whole nonsense without reading anymore but I am glad that I had the chance to go back and see what I left behind.  And I am so glad I did.  I shudder to think what would have happened if I hadn't written that Christmas play that led to my loss of faith and my exit from Christianity.  To me, that is real salvation.  I was saved from a system that destroys the heart and soul and spits out a living carcass devoid of life.


Sunday, November 27, 2011

Stop me before I dream again

 I had a weird dream this morning.  I know it was morning because I had let Professor out for the fourth time and crawled back into bed determined to get some sleep.  It started out with Zach and me going to McDonald's for lunch on Super Bowl Sunday.  When we got there they had all the tables lined up as you would in a church basement fellowship dinner with a huge widescreen tv on the wall.  When I asked if they were open they said whatever was already cooked was all that was available.  Unfortunately there was nothing cooked.  So the scene shifted to St. Mark's, our old Episcopal church.  When we walked in the priest called my name in a surprised way and although I didn't do all the rituals like genuflecting and crossing myself, I was there for the Eucharist.  Not because I believed or anything, just because I missed it.  So the priest said we were waiting until things were set up so Zach and I went into the narthex (foyer) and waited.  And waited.  And waited.  I peeked in to discover they had removed a bunch of pews and had set up long tables with McDonald's food on it and a plate with the communion wafers and a pitcher of wine.  I was really pissed off.

Then I woke up.

I'm not sure what to make of the dream.  I occasionally dream of things from my past, more in a nostalgic way rather than a feeling of missing something.  Like the Navy.  I used to have Navy dreams all the time and let me tell you I don't miss that at all.  It occurs to me that there was no sense of feeling like I was being called back to St. Mark's.  If anything, the whole scenario put me off of the church.  (Although I will say that in real life, the parishioners would never in a million years have treated the Eucharist that way.)  Not that I really needed reinforcement of that feeling.

I had read my Tarot and Animal Oracle cards a few days ago and got one of the clearest readings I've ever gotten from them, that I am really on a good path right now.  I guess my Tarot cards are speaking to me, finally.  This is the same brand of Tarot that I ceremonially threw away back in my fundie days, when I entered that dark cavern of religious superiority by burning or throwing away anything that had any semblance of Pagan origin.  I guess I should have gotten rid of the Christmas tree, too, huh?

The Greeks and I are growing more and more comfortable with each other, setting up housekeeping and rituals together.  They were my first love, after all.  I'm trying to get the house cleaned as I find my spiritual direction more clearly defined if I am in the midst of order.  Chaos is not my friend.  Now that I'm feeling better and my back isn't hurting much at all, I'm making some progress and with each room finished I feel lighter and more at peace.

I watched a documentary about the Decorah eagles who I had watched all last spring.  This was about the death of the first mate and the subsequent first clutch of eggs together.  She was a crap mother initially which made me feel a bit better about my own initial attempts at motherhood.  I am so drawn to eagles.  As much as I am to crows.  It's so odd how I never paid any attention to birds at all until I moved here and now they just won't leave me alone.  Hawks, eagles, crows...I feel such a connection with them now.


Wednesday, November 23, 2011


I found a rooster today.  Or rather Zach found it.  I hadn't thought about looking for a picture to place on the wall above Hermes's altar so while in the aisle looking at lampshades, I saw some pictures.  There in front was a hen, but not what I was looking for.  So Zach dug behind that picture and found a strutting rooster, which is now resting on my dining table waiting for me to put it on the wall.  I had invoked Hermes before leaving home, which is becoming a regular thing for me.  I just light his candle, quietly ask for protection while traveling, blow the candle out and leave.

The picture is a lot bigger than I had intended, but I figure Hermes's ego demands a sizable icon.  It will be the first thing you see when you walk in the door.  Well, past the curtains covering the foyer.

I'm not celebrating Thanksgiving Day.  Mostly because it's just Zach and me and the few attempts I made at trying to have a full-scale T-day event for a child just didn't do it for either of us, so now we just treat it like another day.  In fact, I have a lot on the agenda in the way of cleaning.  We must get the car ready to sell and I must get the kitchen ready for frugal and healthful cooking.  Both of these tasks just can't wait.

But I hope those of you who do celebrate have a wonderful and happy time with family and friends.  For my non-U.S. friends and readers, just have a happy Thursday.


Monday, November 21, 2011

Shopping for the Gods

Today was a pretty good, laid back day with me doing a lot of thinking, a bit of research and some intuitive shopping.  I decided to move my spinning wheel figurine into the kitchen where I have the household goddess's altar, now known as Hestia's altar.  The response from the Goddess was immediate and powerful.  What a connection!

So that got me thinking about moving Zeus (eagle figurine) to the main altar and devoting the piano altar to Hermes since that's in line with the front door and generally in the area where we get ready to go anywhere, he being the God of travelers and all.  So I went to the thrift store to see if I could find a rooster to put there.  I found a few but they weren't exactly what I was looking for.  Several were too badly chipped and paint worn off.  Others were too ugly.

Then I was passing a section with a lot of figurines and one stood out screaming at me.  A beautiful stag in a woodland location just about jumped into my hands.  Which was silly because I wasn't looking for something to represent Artemis. I already had a bell with a buck on top of it for a handle.  Apparently she wasn't crazy about that one, but loved the stag.  So I picked it up, put it down and went looking some more.

I found a lovely swan to represent Apollo and decided that's all I would buy today.  Halfway to the checkout, I turned around and went back to get the stag.  Artemis was quite insistent.  So I came home with two beautiful figurines that look amazing on the altar.  I must get a picture of it very soon.

I really never figured on settling in so well since the Greeks moved in but things are feeling more and more like home.  Well, like a home should feel anyway.  I found a beautiful resin pendant of a peacock (Hera) the other day that I wear with a rawhide strip instead of a chain.  I really, really break out with anything that's not gold, even the hypoallergenic stuff, so I've gone to wearing cloth or rawhide instead.  I also found a resin nautilus pendant that reminds me of Poseidon and I already had an owl pendant (Athena.)  Best thing is, I don't have to hide any of them down my shirt when I run into people I don't want to reveal my spiritual choices to.  'Cause it looks ordinary.

One thing that bothered me before when the Greeks came to visit was the belief that I had to be super-presentable (according to the recons) in order to appeal to the gods.  And the whole concept of miasma, not appearing before them while sick and unclean and such.  I am finding, though, that making sure I brush my hair and teeth, and dressing first thing in the morning is beneficial to my state of mind rather than feeling like I have to be all dressed up before prayers.  Depression can keep me in my pajamas for weeks on end if I don't do anything about it.  This gives me an impetus to take those steps to show respect to myself as well as the gods.

But no, I don't feel like I can't come before the gods unless my hair is brushed, etc.  It's just that taking that step, even when I don't feel like it, puts emphasis on taking care of myself, giving myself importance in the order of events for the day.  Initially I did it because I thought it would be a nice gesture to show the gods that I was trying.  After just a couple of days, I realized how much different I felt about myself when I took those steps first thing.

I don't know how I feel about the other things the recons say are needed for orthopraxy.  Not terribly worried about it at all.  I feel like the gods have moved on from 3000 BCE.  I can even imagine Poseidon in a Hawaiian shirt  and khaki shorts instead of a tunic.  In fact...I can't get that image out of my head now.

Oh, well.  I'm sure that if they called me to them, they know enough about me to know that I would look terrible in a chiton, more like a beached whale, so they seem to be fine with me in sweatshirts and jeans.


Sunday, November 20, 2011

Chance meetings

Last night I needed to run to the store and as I hadn't gotten the kitchen up to speed yet (nor most of the house) we just stopped at Arby's for a sandwich.  Had a pleasant time mostly just watching the news station on their tv which, thankfully, wasn't Faux Noise, then sat and discussed some of the stories we saw.  Before leaving Zach made a trip to the bathroom while I was gathering up the trash and such.  There had been a large family sitting at a table near us but as they were well-behaved I didn't pay them much attention.  Then the woman walked toward me and I thought she might need the time or directions or something.

Nope.  It was someone from my old fundie church whom I hadn't seen in about 5 years.  Unlike most other people, though, I genuinely liked her so I was pleased, albeit nervous, to see her.  We caught up and while I didn't quite lie to her, I wasn't completely honest about why we no longer went to church.  She asked about Zach and I asked about her daughter, who is a year older than Zach.

It was really hard to keep my face neutral when she told me that A was going to some International House of Prayer seminary type thing.  They are the Dominionists that were behind the Rick Perry religious fest down in Texas.  The link is from CARM, which I'm not endorsing but using to show that most Christian organizations are distancing themselves from it.  Apparently A sleeps from 3 p.m. to 11 p.m. and then prays for the next 8 hours, then works the remaining 8 hours.  Sounds like a cult to me.

But S didn't seem to indicate in her mannerism that she found anything wrong with this at all.  Although she might have been hiding her true feelings as she had told me when A graduated high school that she was so disappointed that A wasn't going on to college but was going to attend some Assembly of God pseudo seminary type of school, which wouldn't have given her any tools to get a job anywhere, not even within the Assembly of God. 

Thing is, this is the kind of thing that was pushed in the youth group in the church we belonged to (and one of the biggest reasons S and her husband left that particular fundie church).  The youth pastor kept telling Zach he should become a minister and tried to push him into attending a very expensive Assembly of God college in which he couldn't use any federal grants or federal backed student loans.  These were the people who nickeled and dimed us to death to pay for their sound equipment for the youth groups so it would look like a rock concert.

I'm so glad we escaped that cult-like atmosphere and while Zach is still very much damaged by them, I'm so glad he had the strength to resist their indoctrination.  And mine for that matter.  His escape enabled me to leave.  My son rescued me, no doubt about it.

After a few pleasantries, we parted company.  When we got to the car, I noticed Zach was shaking like a leaf.  Even though S was one of the few really good people in that church, just that connection brought back all the old memories and pain he endured while there.

I know that as a Pagan I'm supposed to be more tolerant and allow others to have the right to choose their own spiritual paths, but it frightens me how close I came to ruining Zach's life by choosing his path for him.  And how many years of my life were wasted by my parents not only choosing, but locking me into the spiritual path of their choice.  I'm not saying parents shouldn't share their religious faith and beliefs with their children.  But forcing them into it is, in my mind and based on my own experiences, as damaging as child abuse in some cases.

I admit that I will walk down a different aisle or change directions whenever I see anyone from the old fundie church mostly because I hate the third degree (which S didn't do at all, thankfully) and can't get past feeling like I have to justify why I left that life behind.  I know that this is where I need to grow stronger, but it's still very annoying to be questioned as if I were a criminal.

Maybe this is the biggest reason I am such a recluse, a loner and have so many social anxieties.  I just hope Zach escaped early enough he can heal soon and not continue to suffer the anxiety he's enduring now.


Saturday, November 19, 2011

Getting rid of those buttons people want to keep pushing

So...the epilogue to the story of yesterday was that the person in question decided to use her husband's account to further berate me (and accuse me of being the antagonist, because of course they never are, being perpetual victims).  I should have just let it go and unfriended her husband's account (which I only used for game playing) but I didn't.  Eventually I deleted my last comment and just said that I didn't need to defend or explain my actions to anyone, then deleted her husband's account.  Let her have the last word.  I don't fucking care.

But it brought to mind how manipulative people can be over being "friended" on facecrack.  How dare you unfriend me over ONE thing I said (not verbatim, but close).  It wasn't just one thing, actually, since there was another occasion where she jumped in my shit because I said I wasn't comfortable hanging with people who thought my prayers had cooties, but even if it was, it's my fucking right to do so. I still have some fundie friends who don't bother me at all.  I don't jump in the stuff they post and they don't jump in the things I post.  Unless it's funny.  Or something they're interested in.  And I love to coo over their grandchildren.  I call that respect.  What was done to me yesterday was the real disrespect.

I am no longer a doormat.  You don't have the right to try to fix me or tell me what my problems are unless I invite you to.  And I can guarantee you that I'm not sending out invitations any time soon.  The only exceptions are those people I do seek advice from, those of you who read and comment on this blog.  It's fair game when I offer myself up in order to grow.  Fundies excluded, of course.

So in the future, I need to just let it go and delete, unfriend or ignore.  Whatever it takes to take care of myself.

So, I got off the computer and cleaned the living room which was so very cathartic in itself.  Order just soothes my soul.  Or is that rock and roll?

I also cleaned and sorted my altar out, making it more in keeping with the Greeks.  And discovering that many of the pieces I have on my altar represent some of the Greek Gods in a very specific way.  I guess I was heading in that direction after all.  I guess when they want you, they direct you until you discover where you really are supposed to be.

I poured out a libation to Hermes the other night.  I used milk as I don't keep wine here since no one drinks it.  I can't because of medication I'm on.  In the middle of the night I heard some slurping and saw Hannibal with his nose down in the cream pitcher, gulping down my libation.  If Hermes doesn't mind, I don't either so I poured it into a bowl so he could get to it without getting his face stuck. 

All in all it hasn't been a bad day.  The old me would  have fretted and worried and had to have the last word.  I like the new me better.  Isn't it odd how I'm a much better person as a Pagan than I ever was as a Christian.  Even my husband says so. :)

Friday, November 18, 2011

Pushing my buttons

I got a really snarky response to something I posted on Facecrack by someone I thought was a liberal to moderate Christian. This is the exchange:

On the way home from our vacation/hospital-stay, Victor and I ended up traveling with a very well-meaning man who wouldn’t stop talking about how God put me in the hospital on purpose because apparently He hates me.

Name deleted:  Disrespect of faith. When did that get to be okay with you?

Me: When is it okay for someone to browbeat a fellow passenger with information that God is punishing them? I'm fed up to here with the Christian privilege that says whatever Christians do is okay but it's not okay to criticize Christians. The author was mocking the person who deemed it necessary to "witness" to her

Name deleted: I'm pretty sure that you know I don't think browbeating anyone is okay. This blog went way beyond mocking the person who did the browbeating. Seriously, Kathy. What would you think if we substituted a few different names in there? You'd think the person who posted it was being disrespectful of your faith, right?
 Me: No, I wouldn't because I have a sense of humor about these things. And no, they were making fun of his platitudes about God opening up a window, not about Christianity.

Me: So I asked another Christian friend if this crossed a line and the person said that no, they were making fun of the guy and his platitudes, besides which...God closing a door and opening a window isn't even in the Bible so it's not even scripture. They were making fun of the guy for being arrogant enough to think that he was "helping."
End exchange

I still think it's hilarious and am a bit pissed off that the responder chose to immediately chastise me instead of just saying, "hey, I find that offensive."  In which case I would have extended my apologies that she was offended but I wouldn't have changed a thing because as my Christian friend (who has asked to remain anonymous in order to stay out of it) says, it's making fun of a guy and his platitudes because he thinks he's helping the Bloggess into the kingdom of his god.

Of late, I've noticed that friends who I often thought of as liberal/moderate are coming across nearly as fundie as the fundie friends I've had to push out of my life.  And that includes some relatives of mine as well.

This particular friend has let me know that this blog makes her feel uncomfortable.  I'm guessing it's because I criticize Christianity and Christians.  I don't ridicule it/them and I don't make shit up about it/them.  I'm talking about my experiences and the way I view it now that I'm free from it.  Personal experience.  It's not like what some of the Christians out there do, by making shit up and passing it off as truth.  Which, when I was a Christian, I totally bought because of course, they wouldn't be lying because that would be a sin.  Except they do.  All the time.

And that particular commandment about not bearing false witness.  Which really isn't about telling lies so much as it's about falsely damaging someone's reputation.  Deliberately damaging someone's reputation.  Which a lot of these fundie types do all the time.  Because the minions believe everything they say.

So,  yeah...a bit pissed off today.  The whole Christian privilege thing that goes on includes not criticizing their brand of mythology because that's sacrilege.  But it's okay to make up shit about what Pagans really believe, how they practice and what their history/mythology really is.

But it's outrageous to make a silly little joke about a silly little man who thinks platitudes really help people.

ETA:  The rest of the exchange:

Name deleted:  Kathy, I didn't miss what you think was the point of the blog. Really, I got that part, okay? Ridiculing Jesus being born "in a barn" and some imaginary conversation where He & God are sniping at each other in a demeaning fashion--none of that had ANYTHING to do with the guy. As for a sense of humor--that surprised me. If you had no sacred cows of your own, I wouldn't expect you to get it. But since you do, and since we know how you feel about people being disrespectful about them, I'm pretty surprised that you'd think this is funny. We'lll have to agree to disagree.

  • ME:  We used to make cracks about Jesus being born in a barn years ago when I was a very devout Christian. And exchanges like the one above, imagining conversations between God and Jesus. In my old fundamenalist church. So you're offended, I get that. But obviously other Christians find this funny so it's not me being disrespectful at all.

  • Me:  And my sacred cows consist of being called a Satan worshiper. Not quite the same as having a sense of humor about God.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Beware of Greeks bearing luggage

I'd write more here if I had something worth saying, but mostly I'm just a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants Pagan and winging it as I go.  But I have been paying a bit more attention to my surroundings of late, wondering, pondering and putting the pieces of the puzzles together.  There always seems to be pieces missing though.

The Greeks have come for a visit since I last invoked Hermes during the stranded-in-the-next-town-late-at-night debacle.  And they brought luggage this time.  Which of course made me question why it is whenever I feel a need to call on a diety out of despair or need, I always call on the Greeks, never the Celts.  Well, actually they brought it up when I asked about the luggage.  They also pointed out that I still have an altar to Zeus on my piano and have accidentally prayed to Hestia instead of Brighid on a regular basis.  Then there are the eagles and crows they've been sending to me, trying to get my attention.

Apparently they have a point as I instinctively called upon Hermes again tonight when Tom's truck died on his way to work, just two days before he's supposed to leave for his hunting trip. Artemis showed up as well, being interested in Tom's intentions in hunting, which I hope I explained to her satisfaction.

They also pointed out that my problem isn't with them, it's with their adherents, which they claim they're not responsible for.  So after promising not to frequent those sites anymore, I invited them to stay.  I'm not saying they're on probation but if they start insisting on heels and hose for prayers, I'll pack their bags for them myself.  But I suspect they're really a lot more laid back about things than some people want them to be. 

I'm not feeling particularly giddy that this seems to be the right path for me.  In fact, I feel a bit casual about it all, accepting that this is probably the right thing for me, although I'm not ruling anything out. If this is just a lengthy visit then I'll take that all in stride and deal with it, but if they're moving in permanently, then I'll make this as comfortable a home for them as I can.

But they have a point that I only call upon them in times of need.  It's like sending out invitations.  If you don't want people to visit, don't ask them to.


Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Still trying to find my way

My back problem has been interfering with my progress although you would think it gave me time to sit down and do a lot of reading.  In reality what it gave me was time to play video games because they take my mind off the pain.  Reading only gives me more time to whine about it.

But while I was online yesterday I came across a blog title (although I didn't read the article) about how you treat the gods.  I can't remember exactly how it went but it was along the lines of either worshiping the gods or using them for when you need something.  It's a problem I've struggled with for years, including the time I was a Christian.  I don't get the need to beg for favors and keep begging in order for the deity to deign to look down from on high and reach out to help us.  On the other hand, in any relationship there must be some give and take.  But in my dealings with my gods, I tend not to ask for anything because I am uncomfortable doing that.  I know that some gods require a sacrifice for the favors they bestow.  Others seem to expect you to do all you can before they will intervene.  Still others will send their strength or energy to enable you to take care of the problem yourself.  I just know what I'm comfortable with and that's not with asking for help in every little thing. 

Sure, I called upon Hermes when I was stranded out of town.  It was an instinctive thing and I offered a libation to him the next day in return for the help he gave.  But as a rule, I don't ask for favors much.  I had problems as a Christian in feeling like I was bossing Yahweh around with all my requests, as if I was entitled to the solutions I expected of him.  So now all I do is offer up, in my daily rituals, resolutions for what I hope to accomplish or who I hope to be.  As in...May I be productive and centered today as I go about my work.  Instead of ...Help me to be productive and centered today as I go about my work.  For one thing, I believe the gods expect us to grow without their holding our hands and dragging us through our rough spots.  I could be wrong, but the whole notion of not being able to do anything without a god's help makes me feel weak and helpless.

But maybe, again, that's just me and I could be wrong.  I just know that while I'm not there yet, I'm in much better shape emotionally and stronger spiritually than I was when I was required to lean on a god's strength, not trusting my own.

This morning, I lit my hearth candle (a shelf next to my sink) invoking Brighid, who I must admit I've had a hard time connecting to.  After my morning prayer, I told her that I wasn't comfortable asking for healing help as I've had such a hard time feeling a connection with her and felt like it was too much like "using" her to do that.  For the first time, I felt that inner glow.  I feel it frequently with Danu, but never have with Brighid.  I came away from the experience feeling much loved and connected with her, but not healed.  Although the pain is much less than it was before and I'm glad to give her credit for it because the pain has been very distracting.  If she has chosen to lighten my load a bit, I am truly grateful.  Even moreso for not having begged for help.  And I'll be glad to give her credit.

For me it's like when my husband does something for me without being asked.  It always feels more sincere and loving than when I have to ask or plead with him to do something for me.  Then again...if you don't ask, you don't usually get.  Still, doesn't it feel better to help someone out of love rather than out of obligation?

But then again, I might be totally full of shit.  LOL  I'm still learning who the gods are, after all.


Saturday, November 5, 2011

Easing in and easing up

My year and a day aren't progressing at warp speed but I'm okay with that.  In fact, I feel better about easing into it instead of jumping in with both feet.  I've watched some travelogues and documentaries and researched some things online but I haven't really sat down to do any reading, which I should do before the books are due back at the library.

I'm having a horrendous flair of my fibromyalgia right now in which my pain pills aren't dulling the pain much, but oddly my mood is better than it's been in months.  I think it's because I genuinely like doing frugal things and trying to be environmentally responsible.  I feel like I accomplish something when I don't spend money or when I don't waste something.  And that makes me feel more connected to the spiritual side of things better than studying 10 books.

My winterizing will be done this weekend and I can cozy up under a blanket and knit or spin or read in the afternoons after my chores are done.  And I will be so glad when I'm done with it.  I only have the plastic to put on 5 windows and lay down some carpet on the back hallway to insulate the floor and I'm done.

And just as winter sets in, my dryer quits on me, but oddly that makes me feel good, too, knowing that I can use the clothesline or the indoor racks and do just fine.  It's good not to fall apart when technology fails you.

So in the scheme of things, I feel like this is all part of my year and a day and while I will get to the more indepth things I want to study, I like just growing into it.  It feels much more natural.  And that gives me more of a certainty that I will succeed in this rather than creating an artificial structure that I'm constantly battling against.

It feels good to feel good about it all.


Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Truly a blessed Samhain

Yesterday was magnificent in spite of not using a formal ritual or a lot of preparation.  My small, yet personal ritual seemed to draw the gods in as well as the ancestors and a good time was had by all.  I got my cards out and while I'm still not getting a whole lot of sense from Tarot, the Animal Druid Oracles are smacking me in the face with their observations and suggestions.

Once again I drew the cards dealing with initiation, commitment and divination with a new card that warns about not letting it all go to your head.  So I decided that my "year and a day" started last night.  After a remarkable time with the gods and ancestors, I sat on the couch in front of my brightly lit candles to meditate upon what I had learned from the ritual, only to fall immediately asleep for about 20 minutes.  In that time I had a vivid dream but the shock of waking up drove it completely from my memory. 

But I still feel pretty good about it all.  Not that my "year and a day" initiation will be anything formal or driven by any particular flavor of Pagan.  I have books I can selectively draw from but my main source will be Nature herself.  As divination was one of the suggestions from the cards, I plan on learning more about that as well, in a more structured manner than I have been using, but learning to use my intuition as well.  And the Spellcasting book I got will be part of my "curriculum" too.  All in all, it will be a year and a day of learning to structure my time in such a way that I am productive, but not rigid enough to stifle my creativity.  Following through isn't my strong point at all so this should be an interesting year.

Happy New Year!