Archive for Paganism

Starwood Diaries: Part Two

Part One

Back to Tuesday.

Tuesday afternoon I was asked to be the Priestess of a ritual to heal Frank Barney, owner of Brushwood (the land on which Starwood is held). Frank has Parkinson’s. I consented, and while I was busily making dinner, the ritual was announced for Friday night during opening circle. So that was 300 people who heard about it. And that was pretty intense.

Thing is, after Free Spirit, where I was the Priestess for a ritual on behalf of Orien Rose, I apparently got a reputation as a “healing priestess” and now I guess I’m accountable for that reputation. Well, they say Witches Heal, so it’s up to me to step up.

Tuesday was also where I had the first instance of being the go-between in an awkward communication, as I’ve written about.

Wednesday was the first day I actually had to be responsible.

As ever, I wake up fantasizing that perhaps I’ll take a morning class. Hah! After all these years, I don’t even fantasize that much, I know I won’t make it. The truth is, I’m always up early, but camping doesn’t lend itself to up and out, in my book. Making coffee, brushing teeth, washing up…all these are leisurely and/or clutzy at camp. I don’t really mind; it’s only troublesome if you over-schedule. Which I don’t so, no trouble.

Update: I knew I attended a class on Wednesday, but I couldn’t find it in the schedule before. It was called Curses and Binding Spells (of ancient Egypt) by an Australian guy named Tony Mierzwicki. He’s been working with Graeco-Egyptian magick and has a very interesting body of material. The presentation was a little dry but he had a lot to say and he really knew his stuff. He had us do a brief ritual (we didn’t curse anyone) and I found the technique powerful. That was from 11:30 to 12:45, plenty of time for me to poke around the camp like a zombie and still get to the workshop clean and fresh.

At 4pm I taught Structure of Spellcasting Part One: Sources of Magical Power. I had about 10–15 people at a wooded site. My students were impressively focused and attentive, I almost felt intimidated.

Wednesday’s dinner was courtesy of Christine; great honking quantities of pasta and chicken. Very satisfying. Wednesday night Christine & I went to a party in the “Dark Moor;” the woods waaaay in the back of camp. I got to spend quality time with my dear friend Larry. Eventually I roamed away, and just as I was leaving, a staffer with a golf cart was also leaving and offered me a ride. Which was delightful, because REALLY it’s a long walk. I asked him to drop me at my camp, because even though I was warm enough walking in my velvet minidress and light shawl, driving in the cart kicks up the wind and I realized I wanted another layer. After another hearty round of Throwing Clothes In the Tent I headed off to prowl, and ended up hanging with Orien & Christine and their crew in the RV camping area until three in the morning. What a gorgeous RV they ended up with! They all look so fab and luxurious to l’il ol’ tenting me.

Thursday afternoon found me in the “downtown” area of camp when all of a sudden, WHOOSH. Major rain. The morning had been hot and I’d taken a noonish nap and left the windows open, so I ran back to camp to seal up. Well, it was getting on time to go teach Structure of Spellcasting Part Two: What Are Spells? anyway, but I was teaching at four o’clock, and a 3:30 downpour didn’t bode well for attendance. I shouldn’t have worried. A brave crew consisting of almost everyone from the day before, plus one or two newcomers, were extremely focused on class content and weather be damned! By 5:15 when class ended, so had the rain, so the walk back was fairly pleasant and my giant Hefty bag of a rain poncho had a chance to dry out.

Thursday night Craig made ham steaks, with a fancy salad and side dishes and pretty extreme presentation; I mean, not just tasty but pretty.

To be continued.

Santeria! The Horror! The Horror!

A New York City school principal is under investigation for having a Santeria ritual performed in the school.

Education officials are pushing to fire [Principal Martiza] Tamayo, a 17-year veteran of city schools who earned $133,998 last year.

There are complications and some accusations of other inappropriate behavior. It’s important to note, though, that there are always other accusations. School boards are generally too savvy too just come out and say “We don’t like your religion so go away.” It’s like union-busting; they do it by writing you up for other offenses—offenses that would make no difference to your employment if you weren’t union.

Newsday reports Tamayo will be fired.

The New York Daily News, which doesn’t give a shit about appearing unbiased, refers to “bizarre Santeria ceremonies,” “peculiar events,” and “creepy warnings.” The article admits that no students were in the building during the ceremony, which was intended to “calm students down.”

Though there were no children in the building and no witnesses to the ritual itself, staff members told investigators the fourth floor smelled of incense and was “really smoky.” School sources said chicken blood had to be cleaned off the floors.

Later that week, [Assistant Principal Melody] Crooks-Simpson agreed to participate in one of the rituals and heeded Tamayo’s creepy warning: “Wear white. If there’s anything evil, it won’t get on you.”

Crooks-Simpson sat in a conference room as Fonte “took two puffs from a brown cigar,” spoke in another language and read tarot cards, according to yesterday’s report.

Another language! Horrors!

Now watch the tip-toeing:

The problem wasn’t that Tamayo was performing bizarre religious rituals but that she was coercing her staff to participate, [special commissioner of investigation for city schools Richard] Condon said.

“Had she hired a priest to sprinkle holy water on the building, and she coerced the assistant principal into paying for it and attending it, I would have a problem with it,” Condon said.

Of course he would! But Newsday wouldn’t call it “bizarre,” would they?

It is, of course, possible that there is misconduct here. There are allegations of coercion, of misuse of funds, of transporting students without parental permission. But would these allegations come out if it wasn’t in conjuction with gawking at the creepy religion practiced by the creepy brown people? I think not. It’s all very well for an investigator to say he’d have a problem with an equivalent Catholic ceremony: Would such a ceremony be reported to him? Would teachers be horrified and frightened?

Santeria is the go-to religion if you want to prove how nasty Pagans are. Chicken blood! My stars and garters! (And seriously, he who is without dead chicken may cast the first tofu burger.) Tarot cards! Foreign language! Headdresses! (Don’t Catholics use those?)

Christians who have been fighting for the right to pray in school need to understand that other people have that right as well. Because, y’know, America, First Amendment, like that.

Sunday Meditation: John Barleycorn

On Lughnasadh (Lammas) we celebrate the first harvest and the sacrifice of John Barleycorn, spirit of the grain. The grain is cut down and dies that we may live. In His death is His own resurrection, not through mysticism, but through nature. In dying as grain, He becomes bread, in dying as bread, He becomes nourishment. He lives in all of us as we are fed by His sacrifice.

Ground and center.

Imagine yourself in a field of wheat. The grain ripples in the breeze, like a golden sea of gentle waves. The movement of the golden waves is hypnotic, flowing in and out, in and out, as it catches the sun and sparkles in the light.

As the waves move in and out, back and forth, a shape emerges from them.

Now you see that the shape is a man. A golden man, wheat-colored and shining. He walks towards you. As you watch, he comes closer until he is facing you, only a few paces away.

Does he have something to say to you? Listen for a while. Spend as much time as you like with the golden man.

As you finish your time together, you notice that the light has changed. It is twilight, the sky is a sensual, deepening blue and the air is cooling. As you notice the twilight, you see a flash of light before you, like a gleam on metal, and John Barleycorn falls to the ground.

Step forward to where he has fallen. There is something there, where John Barleycorn fell. His body has disappeared, but something is in its place. Pick it up and hold it. It is the gift he left for you. What is it?

Bring this gift home with you to meditate on, and when you’re ready, open your eyes.

All the love I need

I’m in the process of writing up some Starwood diary stuff, because I know you’re all dying for my event report.

But Starwood isn’t just an event, it’s a magical space. As such, it can have…themes. Meaning in your life. And this year, the meaning for me was about communication. This year, it seemed I was continually in a position where I was standing between two people conveying communication back and forth, often with failure. So-and-so is pissed at whosy-who, and I’m in between. Rest assured, Starwood is a magical place, and all of these communications worked out for the best, and all is well. But I got to be with me as an agent of that communication.

I found myself saying “My worst fear is that the people I love will all hate each other.” I didn’t know I had that fear, but it came from a pretty deep place as I said it. A week later, I suddenly realize that this fear is my childhood entirely.

The message, to a child, of an acrimonious divorce is, “You can’t have all the love you need.” Period. You can have Mommy or Daddy, but not both, and not together, and neither will ever be comfortable with the fact that you love the other. Not, I suppose, inevitable in all divorce, and I believe Isaac and I have made sure it never happened in our divorce, but certainly it is the story of my first divorce, the one I lived with as a child.

I have said twelve thousand times that when we work to create Pagan family and Pagan community, we replicate our families of origin. When we have some experience with therapy, we can create family more consciously and in a way that is healing instead of knee-jerk.

I found, this week, that I have created a family big enough, diverse enough, and loving enough that I can never have all the love taken from me, that I can never end up alone with everyone hating each other. Things are good now, and things can always be less good. Acrimony can happen. Total population of the people I am in comfortable, loving relationships with can be reduced. But I see that in building the Clan, we have given ourselves a gift that cannot be broken. Splintered, okay, if necessary. But not broken. And that is a great comfort.

I will still have my fears. I will always, I think, be a person who can be in a warm and caring crowd and still be afraid I am alone. But I can also shake off that fear, and take in the love.

You’ve waited long enough, it’s time for…

the Third Annual Things You Only Hear At Starwood!

This fire is hot. Did it singe my hat?

If you move my car, I’ll initiate you.

The Chinese sex cards are in the bodice drawer.

Can I borrow the dildo and go over to the Hurt Yurt?

Oh! I forgot my gods.

I’ve already sunscreened my ass off.

You never want to snip your nipple in the cupholder.

We have all these pie crusts and I don’t know why.

She had a couple more vaginas but they all went.

I once sunburned a moon into my forehead.

The dome has once again become infested by bondage fairies.

What I don’t need is peanut butter and jelly all over my flashlight.

The fetish fairies are here in full force.

Oh! There’s glitter in my pubic hair! I don’t know how it got there.

I’m so tired of waking up next to a big penis every morning.

If you don’t take out your trash, bears will come and eat you.

Condom ninjas attacked the bar last night.

Sunday Meditation: Meditation Room #4

Meditation Room #1
Meditation Room #2
Meditation Room #3

Let’s return to your meditation room. Every time you return there, you reinforce its power and usefulness as a place of meditation, peace, and knowledge.

Ground and center.

Return to your outdoor place, and take a moment to enjoy the serenity and beauty you find there. Notice that you feel renewed just being there.

Step up to the cottage door. As usual, the key is in your pocket. Take a moment to look around and assure yourself that this is your beautiful and safe place.

Today we’ll spend time outdoors, so go back outside and look at the exterior of your cottage. You have been approaching the cottage from the front, but now, walk around the left side to the back. It’s really beautiful here. Take a moment to examine what it’s like. Is it wild and unkempt? Manicured and gracious? Is it sunny? Shaded? Spend time learning the nature of this outdoor place that is a part of your meditation cottage.

Notice that there is a perfect place for you to sit. It may be a lawn chair, or a stone, or a soft spot on the ground. It is exactly what you wish it to be, and when you walk up to it and sit down, you are exquisitely comfortable.

As you look around from this seat, breathing in the comfort and beauty of the place, notice that you see one or more paths leaving your back yard and going off into the distance. Whenever you want to, you can explore those paths, and know that you can always return to the safety of your cottage.

Sometimes, when doing guided meditations, you are instructed to start at a path. You can always choose one of these paths, and it will always take you where you set out to go.

Spend as much time as you like in your back yard, noticing plants, listening to bird song, inhaling the scent of wild or cultivated herbs or flowers. When you are ready, walk around the other side of the house, back to the front, and then return on your usual route home.

Subgenius Custody Case’s Tragic Conclusion

The Wild Hunt is today reporting that Rachel “Reverend Magdalen” Bevilacqua has lost custody of her son.

It is unclear what will happen at this point, Bevilacqua is mired in over 70,000 dollars in legal bills (click here if your interested in helping her out with those bills), and she may not be able to afford appealing to a higher court. No official statement by Bevilacqua has been made at this time.

My previous posts on this issue:
First
Then
And then
And finally.

Sunday Meditation: Crossroads

Sometimes life brings us to a crossroads. We have multiple opportunities. Something changes. We can go back and or forward or off to some strange side path. Because our culture is dualist, we tend to view our choices as either/or: Forward or backward, single or married, old job or new job. But really, there are many times when it is wiser, more empowering, freer and more fun to view a crossroads going in many directions: Old job, new job, or go back to school. Single, married, dating without commitment, dating several people, group marriage, or sacred prostitution. Life gives us many opportunities, and it serves us to visualize paths that are open and, perhaps, unexplored.

Ground and center.

Imagine yourself out of doors. Feel the gentle breeze, the warmth of the sun on your skin, and enjoy the sound of birds in the trees and the rustling of leaves.

Notice that you are walking on a path. Observe your feet moving beneath you, carrying you forward, step-by-step. Feel the strength in your body that moves you freely and resolutely along this path. It may be that there are obstacles, but you step over or around them easily.

As you continue along your path, you find yourself at a crossroads. There are several different ways to go. None looks immediately better than the others, but you feel calm and peaceful. You stand in the center of the crossroads, feeling a pleasant anticipation. Soon you will know which way to go. For now, you stand and look around, turning so that you can see down each path in turn.

Now recall the glowing ball of your center. Notice that the glow is reaching outward, that your body is visibly glowing from the center. It is a lovely, warm feeling and you tingle with it.

Allow the light from your center to expand as it will, and notice that it reaches more towards one or two paths than towards others. Gently allow the light to move further down its chosen path or paths, illuminating them.

Turn around again, looking at each path, those in shadow, and those illuminated by your own glow. Notice now if you feel more drawn towards one. Notice which paths you are certain you won’t take.

When you are ready, when the light from your center and your own inner call agree, step upon your chosen path and continue walking. What does it feel like? Are you comfortable? Excited? Peaceful? Anxious? Allow yourself to explore your feelings as you walk, looking around yourself and observing the path you have chosen.

You may repeat this meditation as often as you wish during a period of transition in your life. You might do it daily, and choose different paths on different days. This exploration can help clarify your real-world choices.

Variegated Hardwood Theology

I read this over at Shakesville, and I was going to comment, but then comment became post (as sometimes happens).

We believe in an Almighty, we believe in the freedom for people to worship that Almighty. They don’t. They don’t believe you should worship the way you choose. They believe the only way you should worship is the way they choose. And, therefore — and, therefore, they will do anything they can to spread that ideology.

The notion that “We believe in an Almighty” is so destructive, so harmful, so vile. It is what Chuck Colson thinks.

“We” sometimes believe in an Almighty. We sometimes believe in an Almighty, but a qualitatively different one than the dog-whistle intends us to hear. We sometimes do not believe in any supernatural being at all. We sometimes aren’t sure. We sometimes believe in one, or many supernatural beings who are not Almighty (that is, who is or are not omnipotent).

The varieties of religious thought in the U.S. are vast. “An Almighty” is a bad meme. It is as bad as “Judeo-Christian.” It sweeps vast diversity under a rug that should not be covering the beautiful and variegated hardwood. It doesn’t begin to touch upon who we are as a people. It seeks to restrict us, and it seeks to exclude and marginalize many of us.

Don’t let it. Don’t shrug when you hear these things. Say no.

Say no.

Colson’s “Religious Muster” doesn’t pass religious muster

The “On Faith” blog used the July 4th Pagan rally as a jumping off point to invite essays for and against the issue of allowing Pagan chaplaincy (Pagans have been blocked repeatedly from military chaplaincy, as Wild Hunt has been documenting).

So here’s the wacky contribution by Chuck Colson (because I always take my religious advice from Watergate co-conspirators). Now, normally I wouldn’t take this seriously. And in fact, I don’t. But it’s really so loopy that I can’t resist fisking the thing.

It is debatable whether paganism is a religion, per say.

Always an excellent move to have a spelling error in your first sentence. Lends credibility.

Chucky, Paganism is not “a” religion, it is a group of religions. In fact, Chuck seems to know this when he says “Wiccans or pagans generally” in his very next paragraph, implying that he understands that Wicca, a specific religion, is a subset of Paganism (which he refuses to capitalize), which is more of an umbrella term. “Christianity” is also not “a” religion, it is an umbrella comprising such widely diverse groups as the Greek Orthodox Church and the Shakers.

It is generally defined as a pre-Christian state

By whom? This definition isn’t used by The Free Dictionary, or by Merriam-Webster, or by Webster’s/Dictionary.com, or by American Heritage. In fact, I think Chucky made it up.

It takes a wide variety of forms—all the way from relatively benign New Age-style nature worship, to pantheism, to witchcraft, and even human sacrifice.

Can I just say, holy shit?

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