This would be the continuing saga known as my life. More particularly the situation with my telling my parents that I'm Pagan. Picture this: Sunday afternoon. A bright and sunny day with a gentle breeze. The air is quite warm but tolerable, and the kids are only slightly misbehaving. I stand in my parents kitchen and once again my Mother asks me "Where do you practice this Pagan thing?" I reply "I practice in my home." "Well is it something on the computer?" she asks. Only slightly horrified "No." Then my Father chimes in next to me "Well I think you've started down a dark and dangerous path."
Rubbish.
It's as if they think I'm worshipping the Devil. In fact that's precisely what they think I'm doing. What I can't understand is why after I revealed my religious and spiritual affiliations to them did they not bother to either a) look into this faith further, or b) ask me better questions. If houses were built on ignorance then the Christian faith would have built an entire cities worth. My parents (blessing upon them) have disappointed me in this. Mind you it's exactly what I expected since I never really counted on them exploring other religions. They believe they're right, and that's all that matters to them. They believe I'm wrong, or rather KNOW I'm wrong and shake their heads thinking 'tut tut what a wayward son we have'. So I believe in a faith that encompasses the natural world, and the teachings that it contains. So I have an alternate viewpoint on the nature of humanity, and the social workings that tie us together. So my God might have horns, and my Goddess more wonderful than anything the Christian faith has.
A dark and dangerous path indeed. Christian philosophy has changed so much through time that it makes me wonder how it ever survived. No wonder it needed to force people to convert during the early days, since it seemed to have nothing wonderful about it in this world. Fear mongering and political power were the only two things about it. Priests could excommunicate you if they saw fit, women were burned at the stake if need be, and you had to be a good Christian if you were to make it through the pearly gates. If being a good Christian means following a faith with such a tainted heritage, then no thank you. I don't ask others to be a part of my faith. I don't claim that I'm right and they are wrong. I certainly don't think that they're fools for following the Christian faith. I do know that I am right for ME. I've seen the hypocrisy that has been a part of the church for a very long time and it makes me ill. I've seen a potentially pure spiritual form twisted for personal/political gains, and have seen it turn men into zealots, which is the last thing any religion needs.
I worship no Devil. Brigid has been a deity related to wisdom and healing. She's been linked to nurturing and creativity. She is in my opinion a wonderful Goddess, who helps me to cope with the stresses of the day-to-day world by allowing me the chance to ponder simpler things. According to Christian myth the Devil is the ultimate purveyor of sin and pain, lust and greed, and all the other negative things that we do. That's quite the out when you can kill your family and say that 'the Devil made me do it'. I for one say that man is responsible for the problems we create, not the Devil. Do I believe that there is a God and a Devil? Yes.
Wait a second... But you said you're Pagan? Yes I am. I worship Pagan Deities, and conduct personal rituals to honour them. But how can I say that the Christian God and Devil do not exist? The fact that in the ten commandments He states that "you shall have no other Gods before me." As well "You shall not make for yourself any carved image..." leading to the quote "...for I am a jealous God...". Well now, jealous of what? Apparently of other Gods, or as the statement is usually made 'False Gods'. How are my Gods an lesser than the Christian God? I'll tell you how: because He said so!
Farcical! Bollocks! If all roads lead to Rome, then why worry if I attempt to go to Athens? Apparently I'll just end up in Rome anyways. So if God is the ultimate God, the top cat, the big cheese, and my Gods and Goddesses are lower on the food chain, then what in the world has He got to be Jealous about? It sounds like a child having a tantrum, and I don't need to worship a snotty nosed celestial omnipotent Deity. What I need is blue skies, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves on the trees and nice pint of ale to celebrate my relationship with my Goddess and the world around me.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Well now, that went well.....
... Or so I thought. After a few years of being a practicing Pagan (solitary mind you), I finally took the opportunity and came out of the "broom closet" so to speak. I told my Mother (blessings on her) that I was a Pagan and no longer Catholic. "What do Pagans believe in?" she asked. "Pagans believe in multiple Gods." I said. We didn't really get into a huge discussion about it as my family and I were packing to leave. As we left you could feel the change, and I wasn't sure what kind of change it was. Just as we were about to pull away from the curb I looked at my wife and said "That went well." I've since come to find out in the last week that it went a lot less well than the initial impression, and what revealed it to me was a single short phone call.
When you're talking to someone you know well, and love such as a spouse or family member, you can tell when something has changed. It might be the sound of their voice or the way they talk to you. Their face may have a strangeness about them, or they may make gestures that are not ordinary to them. Sufficed to say that if you're close enough to them in mind and heart you pick up on these changes.
So I called my Mother to check and make sure that everything was fine before Hurricane Bill showed up. Not to say Mom and Dad are not capable, or that my Brother was lazy, just that I think of these things and of them, even though I don't always show it. Calling her though was not as stellar as I'd hoped. We talked for a minute, and right from the way she answered the phone I could tell she was holding back. She was not, and is not to this moment ready to talk about my choice of religion. And we all know religion has a tendency to make otherwise rational people act in a manner contrary to what they are normally like. As a result of the phone call I spent the remainder of the day moping about, wondering if I should bother calling her again, or if I should even talk to her at all. I wasn't angry, just a little down. This was more what I had expected from her, because after all Catholics are not the most prone to change. Just look at the current state of affairs in the church today.
Later on my wife (blessings on her as well) was talking to my Brother via email, who revealed that my change of faith had caused a minor row in the house. I never read the mail, as it was my wife's and I don't like to pry into her stuff (even though she told me to), so I may not have the whole story. One thing she relayed to me was that my parents were afraid I had engaged in Devil worship. Now I'm a pretty bitter gent at the best of times, and this just adds flavour to the mix. I left Catholicism because it didn't make me feel as good as a faith should in my opinion. I'm not the biggest fan of Christianity to start, but that's not to say that I hate that religion. Far from it. I think there's much to be learned from that particular faith. My jaded thoughts towards Christians primarily stem from the politicising of the faith, the practice of proselytization mostly within the more conservative faiths, and the belief that they are right. Not only that but the fact that the Bible has yet to be agreed upon, as there are plenty of other texts that may have been removed or at least hidden because of their sensitive nature. The truth on whether or not Jesus was real or not would also be really nice, but that request may have been lost to history, and the church is not giving up the shroud of Turin for any kind of dating test. So Christianity is all faith in my eyes, and not doing so well for my heart.
Enough with the negative. Paganism being what it is, a nature based faith, lifts my spirit better than Christianity ever did. Why? Because I like to sit out under the trees, and listen to the wind rustle the leaves about. I like the smell of the forest in the fall. I could watch the crashing of the waves on the sea shore for a long time. And a roaring fire in the winter time is most welcome to my heart and body. But the Christian faith does not concentrate on any of this. Does Paganism? Pagan stories bases itself in the workings of the world, the cycles of life and death and how we as people relate to them. I look at my solitary practicing of my faith as a way to evolve as a human being, a person, a father, and lover. I accept the truths of carnal knowledge, enjoy what earthly pleasures I allow myself, and know that people are still animals in many ways. If we weren't then we would not be engaged in the conflicting behaviours we generate. I have maintained always that animals do exactly what they're are supposed to do, and humans being highly evolved make choices that are dubious at best and disastrous at worst. We do things that make no sense, and treat one another poorly. With my faith I am able to hold to account the way we are, and justify better our existence. I do not pine for heaven, but realize that once we're gone, we only return to where we were, and honestly what's wrong with that? It seems to me that I would rather come back to this place rather than go on to everlasting paradise. If you're having fun all the time, wouldn't that be boring? At some point I think I'd have to punch myself in the face just to give me a point of reference.
I like Paganism because the Gods teach me many facets of the human animal, and the qualities they exude are within all of us. I don't want a God who at one point tells us that he is a vengeful God, and the next says that he loves all of His children. To me it sounds like an abusive father who cries while beating his child. But that is an overly extreme statement and not truly worthy to describe the Christian faith. I will say that the problems that plague Christianity have prevented me from pursuing it further. The church, the Catholic church in particular, is so divided on so many things that it's hard to understand where the good things are. I could be blind to it all but it's extremely hard to force all of that noise out of ones head, and then make sense of it. And not only that, I also have an extremely hard time believing that Christianity is a monotheistic religion. There are so many saints, angels, and so forth that many people pray to that I have to wonder where anyone could make the claim of monotheism. So maybe Christianity and Paganism are one in the same. After all there have also been claims of religious ideological thievery by Christians, and the evidence quite compelling. But the Christian faith has been inspirational to millions of people, so why dwell on it. It's nothing that can be readily changed, and likely anyone trying to do so would create more harm than good.
I choose to be Pagan for me, and the things that I believe. I don't believe in pressing my beliefs on people. I don't believe in using my faith for personal gain. And I certainly don't believe that my religious affiliations should define me or my family. I do believe in the power of magic, and its effects on the universe. I do believe the Gods have their own reasons for the way things are. And I do believe I will return after I'm gone, hopefully to be a better person than I am right now.
Brigid be my guide. Bright blessings upon you all.
When you're talking to someone you know well, and love such as a spouse or family member, you can tell when something has changed. It might be the sound of their voice or the way they talk to you. Their face may have a strangeness about them, or they may make gestures that are not ordinary to them. Sufficed to say that if you're close enough to them in mind and heart you pick up on these changes.
So I called my Mother to check and make sure that everything was fine before Hurricane Bill showed up. Not to say Mom and Dad are not capable, or that my Brother was lazy, just that I think of these things and of them, even though I don't always show it. Calling her though was not as stellar as I'd hoped. We talked for a minute, and right from the way she answered the phone I could tell she was holding back. She was not, and is not to this moment ready to talk about my choice of religion. And we all know religion has a tendency to make otherwise rational people act in a manner contrary to what they are normally like. As a result of the phone call I spent the remainder of the day moping about, wondering if I should bother calling her again, or if I should even talk to her at all. I wasn't angry, just a little down. This was more what I had expected from her, because after all Catholics are not the most prone to change. Just look at the current state of affairs in the church today.
Later on my wife (blessings on her as well) was talking to my Brother via email, who revealed that my change of faith had caused a minor row in the house. I never read the mail, as it was my wife's and I don't like to pry into her stuff (even though she told me to), so I may not have the whole story. One thing she relayed to me was that my parents were afraid I had engaged in Devil worship. Now I'm a pretty bitter gent at the best of times, and this just adds flavour to the mix. I left Catholicism because it didn't make me feel as good as a faith should in my opinion. I'm not the biggest fan of Christianity to start, but that's not to say that I hate that religion. Far from it. I think there's much to be learned from that particular faith. My jaded thoughts towards Christians primarily stem from the politicising of the faith, the practice of proselytization mostly within the more conservative faiths, and the belief that they are right. Not only that but the fact that the Bible has yet to be agreed upon, as there are plenty of other texts that may have been removed or at least hidden because of their sensitive nature. The truth on whether or not Jesus was real or not would also be really nice, but that request may have been lost to history, and the church is not giving up the shroud of Turin for any kind of dating test. So Christianity is all faith in my eyes, and not doing so well for my heart.
Enough with the negative. Paganism being what it is, a nature based faith, lifts my spirit better than Christianity ever did. Why? Because I like to sit out under the trees, and listen to the wind rustle the leaves about. I like the smell of the forest in the fall. I could watch the crashing of the waves on the sea shore for a long time. And a roaring fire in the winter time is most welcome to my heart and body. But the Christian faith does not concentrate on any of this. Does Paganism? Pagan stories bases itself in the workings of the world, the cycles of life and death and how we as people relate to them. I look at my solitary practicing of my faith as a way to evolve as a human being, a person, a father, and lover. I accept the truths of carnal knowledge, enjoy what earthly pleasures I allow myself, and know that people are still animals in many ways. If we weren't then we would not be engaged in the conflicting behaviours we generate. I have maintained always that animals do exactly what they're are supposed to do, and humans being highly evolved make choices that are dubious at best and disastrous at worst. We do things that make no sense, and treat one another poorly. With my faith I am able to hold to account the way we are, and justify better our existence. I do not pine for heaven, but realize that once we're gone, we only return to where we were, and honestly what's wrong with that? It seems to me that I would rather come back to this place rather than go on to everlasting paradise. If you're having fun all the time, wouldn't that be boring? At some point I think I'd have to punch myself in the face just to give me a point of reference.
I like Paganism because the Gods teach me many facets of the human animal, and the qualities they exude are within all of us. I don't want a God who at one point tells us that he is a vengeful God, and the next says that he loves all of His children. To me it sounds like an abusive father who cries while beating his child. But that is an overly extreme statement and not truly worthy to describe the Christian faith. I will say that the problems that plague Christianity have prevented me from pursuing it further. The church, the Catholic church in particular, is so divided on so many things that it's hard to understand where the good things are. I could be blind to it all but it's extremely hard to force all of that noise out of ones head, and then make sense of it. And not only that, I also have an extremely hard time believing that Christianity is a monotheistic religion. There are so many saints, angels, and so forth that many people pray to that I have to wonder where anyone could make the claim of monotheism. So maybe Christianity and Paganism are one in the same. After all there have also been claims of religious ideological thievery by Christians, and the evidence quite compelling. But the Christian faith has been inspirational to millions of people, so why dwell on it. It's nothing that can be readily changed, and likely anyone trying to do so would create more harm than good.
I choose to be Pagan for me, and the things that I believe. I don't believe in pressing my beliefs on people. I don't believe in using my faith for personal gain. And I certainly don't believe that my religious affiliations should define me or my family. I do believe in the power of magic, and its effects on the universe. I do believe the Gods have their own reasons for the way things are. And I do believe I will return after I'm gone, hopefully to be a better person than I am right now.
Brigid be my guide. Bright blessings upon you all.
Monday, August 10, 2009
She disappeared.....
I'll dispense with my usual angriness and talk of something.... different. Usually I'm an emotional powder keg when it comes to current issues, and world politics and such, but now I'm jumping in the way back machine to the distant past.
When I was a kid a remember vividly reading a booking called 'Great Mysteries of the Air" which I checked out from the library. Several times did I do this, because the text inside had so much paranormal information for an 8 year old boy, as well as I recall a distinctly chilling chapter called "They Disappeared..." Chapter 3 I believe. In this chapter was the tale of one lady, who was not extraordinary in any way other than her ability after her disappearance to inspire.
Amelia Earhart was many things during her life time, the most notable of which was being the "Queen of the Air". She was a female pilot in a time when there were very few female pilots, and she was set to accomplish many things during the golden age of flight. So why would her story strike me so? What could possibly motivate this man here to walk away from his bitterness to write about the phenomenal lady? In truth I couldn't tell you. I've sporadically pondered the disappearance of this woman throughout my lifetime, wondering why we've never found her. Surely in the modern age we would be able to find a heap of aluminum at the bottom of the Pacific, or an aerospace wreck on some remote and distant island? It's not a priority I guess...
The erasure of a human being from the face of the earth is something so common place in our lives now. Wars, famine, and disease take from us that which propels our shambling carcasses forward into the future, and lays it to rest without so much as a by-your-leave that we barely notice. We see it on TV, we read about it in the paper (if we read at all), so much so that we are inundated by it and numbed at the same time. But her story seems different somehow given the context. If you could imagine, and my embittered state scoffs at the ability of most modern peoples to be able to do such, then imagine her end. Flying over open water, possibly not a spot of land in sight and running low on fuel. You reach for the radio and check the time. Roughly 7:42am. You key your radio switch with one hand as the other holds the vibrating stick in the other, thrumming in time with the Electra's engines. After a moment you speak hoping someone would hear you. "We must be on you, but cannot see you -- but gas is running low. Have been unable to reach you by radio. We are flying at 1,000 feet."
Meanwhile your navigator and flight Engineer Frank Noonan is working on your position. Where the hell are you?? You check your gauges, and then key the radio again, asking the Itasca to transmit so that you might use the radio to get the proper direction. Suddenly beeping in the radio cuts through the static of the radio, and noise of the cockpit. Morse code. The Itasca is transmitting but the equipment can't pin where the signal is coming from. You call out on the radio again informing the Itasca that you've received them but can't locate where they're at. The minutes pass by and Frank has figured out where he thinks the plane should be. So you decide to try a different direction, and start flying in a more southerly direction. You check your watch again. 8:43am. Not sure how much longer you can stay in the air, you radio out again. "We are on the line 157 337. We will repeat this message. We will repeat this on 6210 kilocycles. Wait." A pause as Frank says something to you, then you add to the message "We are running on line north and south."
Now the scene switches. Imagine if you will that your a radio operator either on the Itasca, or elsewhere in the Pacific. After the 8:43am transmission from Amelia all you seem to be able to do is listen and hope. You try to transmit to her but to no avail, as other operators are trying the same, and the airwaves are cluttered. Not only that, her transmissions are becoming fainter, and at some point she reiterates that they are flying along a line of position that intersects with Howland Island. More static, more fading signals. Her transmission is now unintelligible. You know she's out there, but you can't make her out, and then she's gone. Plucked from the universe it seems for all your efforts to bring her someplace safe.
Where did she go?.......
When I was a kid a remember vividly reading a booking called 'Great Mysteries of the Air" which I checked out from the library. Several times did I do this, because the text inside had so much paranormal information for an 8 year old boy, as well as I recall a distinctly chilling chapter called "They Disappeared..." Chapter 3 I believe. In this chapter was the tale of one lady, who was not extraordinary in any way other than her ability after her disappearance to inspire.
Amelia Earhart was many things during her life time, the most notable of which was being the "Queen of the Air". She was a female pilot in a time when there were very few female pilots, and she was set to accomplish many things during the golden age of flight. So why would her story strike me so? What could possibly motivate this man here to walk away from his bitterness to write about the phenomenal lady? In truth I couldn't tell you. I've sporadically pondered the disappearance of this woman throughout my lifetime, wondering why we've never found her. Surely in the modern age we would be able to find a heap of aluminum at the bottom of the Pacific, or an aerospace wreck on some remote and distant island? It's not a priority I guess...
The erasure of a human being from the face of the earth is something so common place in our lives now. Wars, famine, and disease take from us that which propels our shambling carcasses forward into the future, and lays it to rest without so much as a by-your-leave that we barely notice. We see it on TV, we read about it in the paper (if we read at all), so much so that we are inundated by it and numbed at the same time. But her story seems different somehow given the context. If you could imagine, and my embittered state scoffs at the ability of most modern peoples to be able to do such, then imagine her end. Flying over open water, possibly not a spot of land in sight and running low on fuel. You reach for the radio and check the time. Roughly 7:42am. You key your radio switch with one hand as the other holds the vibrating stick in the other, thrumming in time with the Electra's engines. After a moment you speak hoping someone would hear you. "We must be on you, but cannot see you -- but gas is running low. Have been unable to reach you by radio. We are flying at 1,000 feet."
Meanwhile your navigator and flight Engineer Frank Noonan is working on your position. Where the hell are you?? You check your gauges, and then key the radio again, asking the Itasca to transmit so that you might use the radio to get the proper direction. Suddenly beeping in the radio cuts through the static of the radio, and noise of the cockpit. Morse code. The Itasca is transmitting but the equipment can't pin where the signal is coming from. You call out on the radio again informing the Itasca that you've received them but can't locate where they're at. The minutes pass by and Frank has figured out where he thinks the plane should be. So you decide to try a different direction, and start flying in a more southerly direction. You check your watch again. 8:43am. Not sure how much longer you can stay in the air, you radio out again. "We are on the line 157 337. We will repeat this message. We will repeat this on 6210 kilocycles. Wait." A pause as Frank says something to you, then you add to the message "We are running on line north and south."
Now the scene switches. Imagine if you will that your a radio operator either on the Itasca, or elsewhere in the Pacific. After the 8:43am transmission from Amelia all you seem to be able to do is listen and hope. You try to transmit to her but to no avail, as other operators are trying the same, and the airwaves are cluttered. Not only that, her transmissions are becoming fainter, and at some point she reiterates that they are flying along a line of position that intersects with Howland Island. More static, more fading signals. Her transmission is now unintelligible. You know she's out there, but you can't make her out, and then she's gone. Plucked from the universe it seems for all your efforts to bring her someplace safe.
Where did she go?.......
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