Pagan Blog Project – week 7 - D#1 – “TO DARE”

our Lady Liberty, plus tobacco leaf

Pagan Blog Project – week 7 - D#1 – “TO DARE”

My Druids and I (and my sister and a classmate and 25K others) attended the HKonJMarch in Raleigh, North Carolina this past Saturday. According to the website, “In 2006, the Historic Thousands on Jones St. (HKonJ) People's Assembly Coalition was formed under the leadership of Rev. Dr. William J. Barber, II and the North Carolina NAACP. It has grown to include over 150 coalition partners.” 

Throughout the day I was trying to explain to my sister why we were marching and it was hard to narrow down the list. Civil rights, voter’s rights, women’s health, immigration reform, safe food and water, anti-fracking, water rights, teacher’ssalaries, LGBTQA rights… and those are just a few. Basically, if you’re a resident of North Carolina, there’s something politically going on to screw you over.

This past summer the NAACP and their coalition hosted Moral Monday protests and marches, and one of my Druids and I attended as many as we could. We quickly became disillusioned with the uber-Christian rhetoric, and really, we’re not at all the type of people to be offended willy-nilly by Christian-centric stuff. One Unitarian Universalist minister mentioned “Earth Religion” once, which was nice and better than nothing, but really doesn’t represent either of us.

My Druids write great liturgy and rituals, so they put together a really wonderful little ritual for us to do before the event every Monday down at the capitol building. We called upon Gods and Goddesses of justice, as well as what my Druids call the American Triad – Liberty, Justice, and Columbia. As Pagans and Polytheists we wanted to be represented. We wanted to be included as clergy. We wanted to include our prayers and our voices to the thousands and thousands of people who have been protesting here in North Carolina. This is our state, too, and we want to move forward together with our brothers and sisters and Others of various faiths and backgrounds.

"If you sing for the river, the river will sing."

(Not to mention our responsibility to our Gods and Ancestors and Nature Spirits and Others. Some of these ask or even require us to engage in our communities and in social justice, and how can we tell Them "no"?)

We DARED.

The three of us right now are able to be pretty much out of the Broom Closet, which gives us certain liberties that other Pagans are not so fortunate to enjoy. Even being able to march in these Moral Monday events might be risky for some in NC (especially state employees) but to march openly and out as a Pagan might be seen as some as even more risky.

But as we try to come together in the spirit of Community and Service, we decided that it was our job to not only attend Marches, but to be at the Marches as openly Neo-Pagan and Polytheist. Because maybe there are other Pagans out there who want to know that others are marching with them. Or maybe we want some prayers that refer to more than “Mother Earth” (who is great, don’t get me wrong.)

So I bought a scarf and decided to use it as a stole. Unfortunately the only pattern I could find was with a pentacle, which represents me (a Neo-Wiccan) but not my Druids (who are members of ADF) but I figured it was start. But we gathered together to do our little ritual at the capital I found myself hiding my scarf once, when a clergyman came upon us, clearly lost (he was looking for a prayer group.) Urgh. Why was I lacking courage? But he smiled, asked us “Oh, are you Neo-Pagans?” and made small talk and was delightful.

The ritual was lovely. Just perfect. Macte esto!

"Close prisons, fund schools"

While we marched I decided to throw my shoulders back, lift my head high, and proudly display my pentacles. I was there as Pagan Clergy. I was there with my friends and comrades-in-arms. I was there as a community leader of the local Pagan community. If I couldn’t face a few dirty looks or questioning stares, then how could I expect others to be faced with the same reaction? Because sure, I’ve been out, but not quite like this…

But at one point, when the super cute Jewish man and his partner turned to us randomly and said “BLESSED BE” I was a little struck. I mumbled my gratitude, but then he told me how he wanted to say it earlier to me but had lost me in the crowd, but was happy he found me again. So I smiled graciously and told him “you as well!”. And I meant it. I hope he and his lovely partner are the most blessed.

And later, a lady came up with a petition about fracking, and she said “oh, you’re Wiccan!” and she told me about the Chapel she is part of in a little town a few hours away, and she was excited to hear about our projects and our networking efforts for this part of North Carolina, and we shared fliers and names and parted ways with a smile.

And these are interactions that would not have taken place at all if I had not DARED.

One website says:

"Middle class over millionaires"

“TO DARE can be interpreted as to have the courage we need to grow. By daring ourselves to step out of our comfort zone, to be something that people see as "other," we are in fact fulfilling our own need "to dare." We are facing that which is unknown, moving into a realm that is far outside what we're used to.”

So as I engage in social activism, community networking, and continue to step into Pagan leadership roles in the community, I realize that I must continue TO DARE. I need to grow. I need to step out of my comfort zone. I need to realize that even though I might get a few confused looks out in public, that’s okay, because I can be out and I owe it to my community to present Paganism with grace and wisdom and love. I may be facing the unknown, but I’m not alone. I have my Druids, and my sister, and that lovely Gay Jewish man, and that sweet lady, and thousands and thousands of others who, in their own way, also dare TO DARE.

Nearer

Last night with a sparkler in each hand, I drew huge banishing spirals into the air, thinking about the year that had just passed.

“Out with the old” I whispered, over and over again.

When the time felt right, I reversed my spirals, spinning inward, with the hopes to bring luck and love to me in 2014.

“In with the new!”

As the sparklers began to burn out out I went crazy with my magic, dancing and looping large streaks of burning color into the air.

“Out with the old, in with the new, out with the old, in with the new, out with the old, in with the new!”

When the light finally died, I released my intentions into the cosmos with a cheer. “Happy New Year!” My friends, enjoying their own magical moment of sparklers and nighttime joy, shouted with me. “Happy New Year!”

That was my last bit of magic for 2013, and my first bit of magic for 2014. Not bad for a year of intense ritual experiences and divine revelations… I’m not much of a resolution type person, but I really hope 2014 has just as much magic as 2013, if not more. 13 is a witch’s number, and I’d really say that 2013 was the Year of the Witch for me, but 4 is my number, and I’m really hoping that 2014 is The Year of The Space Witch.

Last night, home and slightly tipsy from champagne, I drew a card from my new deck, gifted to me from a dear witch friend. For this first reading of a brand new deck, Le Tarot des Femmes Erotiques, I drew the seven of pentacles. “Wait for the Moment” it tells me. Whereas 2013 Space Witch would have been annoyed and impatient, 2014 Space Witch is wise and understanding. I recognize the advice to wait wait wait as the current theme in my life.

Wait. The Cosmos have been telling me for months. For years. Wait. Now is not the time.

So I get my seeds and soil ready and I wait and do all the work I can for when the time is right, because I know when the time comes I need to be ready.

Wait.

So I started the day of 2014 with some more magic, making monkey bread and bacon and drinking champagne. (The Space Witch is a classy witch, for sure.) As I roll balls of dough I whisper into the food “Out with the old, in with the new, out with the old, in with the new, out with the old, in with the new!” I add a pinch of nutmeg for divine inspiration, cloves for a spicy kick, and cinnamon for an extra oomph. I can’t wait for this hot, goey, breakfast treat. So of course I take it out of the oven too quickly. The inside is still raw. “Wait!” the Cosmos remind me with my uncooked breakfast.

Oh yeah. Right. Maybe I still have some work to do on this whole patience thing, after all...

And later we get to enjoy pork loin, cabbage, and black eyed peas. I do live in the South, after all, and I can use all the luck I can get, and black eyed peas are lucky indeed. I’ll probably give some to the nature and land spirits later, or to the house wights.

But today isn’t just the New Year. No! It’s the new moon as well! How fortuitous! So I’m thinking about making some incense or oil later today, too. Maybe tonight with the darkness is deep and the night is cold.

The oil will be a mix of lavender, jasmine, sandalwood, cypress, and myrrh. The incense perhaps a bit complicated as I work out the perfect recipe. But I’m hopefully for the magic of this day to carry me through the next year, to capture it into a little jar of scent and energy.

2013 was rough for many people, and 2014 won’t be without its challenges. But aren’t you so excited?

Pagan Blog Project – week 52 – Z – Zagreus

http://zoecarnate.wordpress.com

Pagan Blog Project – week 52 – Z – Zagreus

My husband has his degree in Classics, and his department’s Classics Society had this poster up on campus. It was this life-sized, goofy painting of Dionysus - some generic dude with a toga and some purple and some grapes and a big cup of wine. The caption at the bottom said “Born Again Pagan” and while my Pagan friends thought it was super clever, I guess it caused quite a stir among some of the other students and faculty.

At first I didn’t get the joke. I didn’t think it was terribly clever. In my experience growing up Baptist, and later spending time in an evangelical fundamentalist church, the phrase “born again” takes on a pretty specific meaning. To be born again means that you are born physically and then you change your life around and give it to Jesus and start listening to Christian rock and watching the 700 Club and your old life is dead and you’re reborn living a new very boring life.

(Sorry, Christians… I know that this isn’t 100% accurate to the “born again” experience, and I don’t want to discredit how powerful the experience can be. This is just what it was for me which is probably why I’m Pagan now and not Christian.)

So in my experience, born again meant that you were born by your momma and then your old life dies and you live a new life. Or it kind of meant that maybe you tried the Christian thing and then it failed and then suddenly it makes a lot of sense and you are born again and given a do-over for Christianity. Maybe you’ll get it right this time. Maybe it will stick.

So the phrase “Born Again Pagan” just seemed kind of silly to me. When I became a Pagan, no part of me died. It just changed, it morphed. I was the same old me I always had been, but I didn’t have to give anything up, and really, I didn’t have to do anything new (like watch the 700 Club). I could just be Pagan now, and that was that. There was no death or rebirth, but rather, a transformation.

This actually reminds me a lot of the Death card in tarot. It (usually) doesn’t mean a literal death, but more of a metaphorical ending of something in order for something new to grow. The old stuff acts as fertilizer for the new stuff, and the new stuff is often stronger and better than the old stuff, but it needs to be fertilized by the old stuff.

So my coming to Paganism was pretty similar to the Death card. I didn’t die. I wasn’t reborn. I wasn’t born again. I was just transformed.

I’m a huge fan of myth and storytelling and metaphor, so it wasn’t until I began to study mythology that I finally began to understand the phrase “born again Pagan.” There are lots of dying/resurrecting god/man/godman myths from all over the world. In particular, the Classicists of my husband’s degree program were drawing upon the myth of Zagreus/Dionysus when they thought they were being clever with their little poster.

Ancient Crete is a bit different than mainland Greece in many ways, and the Cretians tell the story of Zagreus, who is the infant child of Zeus, or maybe Hades, after they impregnate Persephone while disguised as a snake. Hera gets jealous, as she often does, and she convinces the Titans to murder little baby Zagreus. While in the form of a bull he is torn to pieces and eaten. Someone finds the child’s heart, and Zeus gives this to Semele so she becomes pregnant. Zagreus is reborn as Dionysus.

So finally I was finally able to begin to understand why Dionysus is a Born Again Pagan. (Though I guess one could debate on the term “Pagan” as it applies to Dionysus, but I’m not going to get into that right now.) But what does the term “Born Again Pagan” mean for me? What does it mean for you?

Zagreus has been born again as Dionysus, and that means anything you damn well want it to mean.

And that's part of the fun of being a Born Again Pagan.