Walking the Path: Public Shrine Project!

Today was yet another long one, with the morning devoted to finishing up a two-week dive into Christianity for my World Religions class, and the afternoon dedicated to spending a number of hours with my grabber-claw and trash bag, cleaning the garbage out of the stream running through the local park. You may remember this picture from several posts ago:

The sun was at that awkward, "always blinding no matter where you look even with sunglasses on" angle, but I managed to clear out a hefty bag's worth of junk. It amazes me that no matter how much I clean, one month later things go back to the way they were! Needless to say, my own attempts to connect with the nature spirits or "land wights" of my area require me to make the effort. I doubt I could approach them with any measure of respectability or worth if I didn't at least take the time to make amends for the disrespect of my human kin.

After cleaning, I sat for a little while with my shoes off in the water, enjoying the shade of my favorite tree; it has wonderfully complex, raised, concatenated roots, with deep little hollows beneath some of them. The sun had lowered to a different angle, and the light softened into a comfortable glow, with little glare. Given the amount of stray branches lying around - most of which were probably snapped off the trees and bushes by kids making rudimentary fishing poles to catch crawdads with - I realized that said wood was better used to erect an altar to the land wights, simple though it may be.

There is no "No Littering" sign in the park. There is no reminder to the humans who frequent it that the land they hold in common actually doesn't belong to them. There is no sense among the irresponsible teenagers who fling beer bottles into the stream that they have an obligation, as power-holders, to care for and honor the land that ultimately supports them. What better way to get people thinking than to leave behind a marker of some kind?

I used found wood. The ground even near the stream is thick, hard clay, so it couldn't be too complicated or heavy. I didn't have an offering with me - only some wild grasses and the grabber-claw I used to pick up trash. I erected the altar, called out to the land wights, and named my service as an offering to them. I left the grasses behind as another gift.

I've loved the idea of the Public Shrine Project ever since I read about it over at Gangleri's Grove. But because I spend so much time cleaning up left-behind crap, I've been anxious to create an altar that is made entirely out of found materials. I hope that this tiny, rudimentary altar is enough to honor the land wights, and to raise awareness of their presence.

featured: Trash Grabber-Claw 

Personal Path: Snags & Signs

I've held off writing this post for a while now; so long, in fact, that the USA has achieved 100% marriage equality since my last post! Wowza! Part of the problem is that I've been cooking up about five different posts in my head over the last few weeks, all on disparate topics, so sitting down to write has been a daunting task. I won't cover all of those topics with this post. This is more of a "response to crisis moment" piece, and as such comes straight out of experience. (Hah! I told myself that I needed to let experience guide me more!)

Some of my friends know that I've recently taken demonstrable steps to express changes in my identity - changes which are the result of several years of thinking and reflecting carefully. As I don't often sit down to talk about my identity-challenges with others (and rarely write about them), most of this has gone on in my own head, privately and invisibly to those who know me. My shift toward the Pagan path is only the newest change.

Since the beginning of this year, I have been far more open about my gender identity and sexual orientation. Now being "out" is a gradual process, especially so for me, as the visible part of all of this is the outgrowth of several years worth of internal work. I came out as asexual and aromantic; I started to identify as gender-fluid/gender queer/agender (still a work in progress), and to change my hair and dress to reflect this. (Not that a gender-fluid/queer person has to dress any particular way; sartorial choices and gender do not always coincide, nor should they!)

My political orientation hasn't changed much - I'm still an anarcho-municipalist - but my recent political statements concerning the upcoming US presidential race might sound odd, considering I've endorsed Bernie Sanders, a Socialist from Vermont. While I'd be much happier with a left-leaning Libertarian like last race's Gary Johnson (who is not running again), Bernie seems like the right choice this time. There are some issues that need his unique perspective, and his track record is vastly superior, in my mind, to Hillary Clinton's.

Now, I've been living away from my parents, independently, for almost four years - save for a few semesters after gradute school when I commuted from their house to work at two different colleges. I'm living on my own again, this time with an older housemate, and I've never felt more independent. For the first time in my whole life, I feel like I might be "a real adult." It is because of this situation that I have felt free to experiment, change things up, chop off my hair, shop in the men's department, and so forth. Not that my parents ever pressured me to be one way or another, but I seriously doubt they understand the concept of "normativity" and its subconscious influence.

Enter the argument with my mother, via text-message. She argues that I've drastically changed, for no good reason, and this scares her; I'm "lying to myself" in order to "fit in," she says. I'm not being true to myself. "I remember you as a child; you were happy with yourself. You never had problems with feminine things." "I don't know who you are anymore or how to be around you." "You can't just show up to dinner looking like a teenage boy and think we wouldn't notice!" "I feel like I've lost a daughter."

Ok, so that hurt. I tried to explain to her that identity is fluid, that we don't always know who we are, that some of us aren't "born that way," we grow into it organically as we come to better understand ourselves, our environments, and our world. My own self-realization has been rooted not so much in feelings of dis-ease or discomfort with my assigned gender, but in the comfort of expanding my gender expression to include things I once thought were off-limits to me.

Additionally, there has been my gender studies curriculum and my realization that, hey, I don't even know what gender is, so how the hell can I know what mine is?! To be honest, I don't even think I believe in gender. This is one of the reasons why the gender-assigned imagery in paganism is still such a big sticking point for me. WHY IS EARTH FEMALE? WHY IS SKY MALE? EXPLAAAAIN?!?! (Another post on this and my frustrations with the ancient Indo-Europeans and modern Wiccans in the future...)

Of course, the political issues were not easily explained either. She then gave me a rant about the ills of socialism, then slipped into a discussion on the value of religion in society ... I'm not sure why. (I'm pretty sure it wasn't the old "Socialism = Communism = Atheism" fallacy. At lest, pretty sure.) All about "surrendering to a higher power" and "my will conformed to God's" and "not being selfish."

Thankfully this all happened over text-message, so it didn't have the full emotional effect it might have had. The big error in this whole situation was that I failed to involve my parents in my long process of reflection. I didn't feel that they'd understand, and the whole process was so private, that I didn't tell them about what I was feeling two, three years ago, so of course how could they connect my current behavior with anything other than a radical jump into the queer end of the pool?

I don't know how or whether I'll integrate my parents into my path, especially considering all of the misunderstanding and judgment that has already been laid down. I think I didn't communicate any of this with them earlier for the previously stated reasons, and because I didn't want to say anything until I was sure for myself. Unfortunately, humans aren't mind readers, so there's that problem. A part of me also wonders if it's even worth it. Should I subject myself to more potential judgment and misunderstanding, just to exhaust myself by trying to offer up explanations rooted in years of study and theory that they will possibly reject anyway, on ideological grounds?

When I think about it that way, all I want to do is retreat into my cave as I've always done. In that, at least, I maintain continuity with my childhood!

But now that I'm walking this pagan path, I have to stop and think: what signs does this path offer? What guideposts offer me a sense of direction, and what guides are here to steer me?

Wisdom: Take the time to perceive the situation correctly; see all the sides before deliberating upon a choice or response.
Vision: Broaden my perspective in order to see and relate to the whole of my place and duty in time, space, and community.
Courage: acting appropriately and in line with my values in the face of fear.
Integrity: keeping my word; being honest with myself and others.
Perseverance: continuing on the journey (the ones laid out before me and those I've chosen) in the face of difficulty.
Hospitality: honoring the gifts others have given with balanced reciprocity; not taking relationships for granted.

What do I know right now?

I know I am happy as I am. I am happy mixing about with expectations concerning my gender assignment. I am happy ignoring those expectations. I am happy not being attracted to anyone. I am happy when no one is attracted to me. I am happy with the idea that romantic love is not for me.

I am confident I have thought carefully. I have blogged (elsewhere, now deleted) through this process. I have thought and conversed. I have pushed, pulled, twisted, and poked all of these concepts. I have challenged myself and my assumptions. I have done my due diligence.

I see a light ahead. Expressing my new self-realizations has opened up for me new futures, new interests, and new, uncharted paths. There can be no true progress without somewhere to move towards. The promise of novelty, the call of the unknown, these are not fads that I mimic, but gravity-wells of hidden meanings that draw me beyond the boundaries of my expectations and into true exploration.

Walking the Path: Am I Called? Live the Questions.

I've been digging through dozens of blog posts over at Patheos' Pagan Channel. There are so many different perspectives within the neopagan community (which, if you want to use the "large umbrella" sense of the term, includes Wiccans, Goddess devotees, and others). I find it exciting to encounter all of these points of view, and to consider them seriously and thoughtfully as I work out my own sense of the path I'm on, why I'm on it, etc.

Over at Heathen At Heart on Patheos, Molly Khan's recent post spoke to a concern that I've been muddling over for a while. One of the prevailing ideas that I've encountered among explicitly polytheist neopagans is the notion that we don't choose to worship the Gods, they choose us, call us, or pester us until we recognize them. One of my first blog posts on this subject jokingly used the metaphor of Eris "tailgating me" until I "switched lanes," but that's all it was - a metaphor. I consider myself spiritually tone-deaf, for the most part. Switching to the pagan path for me is a choice; the symbol system fits, the cosmology and ritual gives form to a set of existential and philosophical principles that I (more or less) consider to be valid.

Khan's blog post, while pushing back against the growing normative model of a "call" from the Gods, still spoke of a sense of connection, an implicit feeling of a numinous/sacred sense that only later in her life she came to recognize as Nerthus, the Norse goddess of the Earth. She ends the post with the suggestion to "Honor who you will, and don’t wait for deities to come knocking down your door – the choice is yours."

While I really appreciate the suggestion that it's ok to seek out a Deity and start seeking a relationship with Them, I still have this niggling feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Modern (and probably Paleo-) Paganism is very much about experience. In Jordan Paper's Polytheological work, The Deities Are Many, he points out the much-echoed sentiment among other Pagans that "Faith is both meaningless and irrelevant. We know what we experience; it takes no leap of faith to assume the reality of deities we have directly encountered. [...] Arising from encounters in rituals, visions, and so forth, our acceptance of the validity of the experienced deities is absolutely no different, except more certain, than knowledge gained from sensory experiences." (p. 13-14)

Remember when I said I consider myself spiritually tone-deaf? Perhaps it's my Protestant upbringing, but I don't think I've ever had a "sacred experience." Perhaps once or twice while singing lyrics that felt profoundly true, but they were very difficult to interpret. I've spent so long studying the sacred experiences of others, I think I may have stunted the growth of my own ability to have those experiences myself!

While reading Khan's post, I found myself thinking back to my childhood. (Queue future post about memory dynamics and their importance to identity - until I write it, you should check out this fine post over at Aedicula Antinoi.) I don't often think back that far. My mental space is generally filled to capacity by a number of simultaneously running "programs," most of which inevitably end up slowing down my processing speed. Inevitable result: Absent-Minded Professor Syndrome. (I actually dislike computational metaphors for the brain, but this seems to work. But I digress!)

I thought back to my early teens, when I would spend hours hiking alone in the scrub-brush-covered hills of my hometown, climbing rocks and letting myself wander. I'd let myself get lost, or "pixie-led" as I used to call it. (Thanks Ari Berk and Brian Froud.)  When I got old enough, I'd ride my horse alone over the hills, through the washes, and over fields. My horse was old - nearly 30 and well-retired from his previous life as an endurance racer - but he and I had adventures like you wouldn't believe. I was in-tune with the natural world in ways that I can't even fathom anymore. One day, when my father and sister went out for a ride and didn't return home at the expected time, I attempted to track them, with a fairly decent degree of success (they returned home before I caught up with them).

All that changed when I went to college. I spent so much time in my head and indoors, that I lost touch with that world-sense, that connection to other beings beyond my human community. Even though I started studying religion, I now believe that I actually lost my capacity for religion. I assumed that religion required belief, and that this faith thing was about assent to doctrines on the basis of revealed scripture. (Protestant baggage) I never learned, in the first place, that spirituality and religion were (or should be) primarily rooted in one's experience of the Sacred. As I lost my sense for connection to the world around me, I didn't realize that I was, in fact, losing my religion. What I mistook for a failure in belief was really an experience of belief that failed to correlate with any meaningful experience.

It didn't help that I started to struggle with anxiety and depression as an undergraduate, which inhibited my ability (or even desire) to feel anything at all. I retreated into intellectual hyper-space and rode a knowledge-high all the way through graduate school, where I continued to study religion! It was in graduate school that I came into contact with Process theology/philosophy, with my first queer friends, and with parts of myself that I didn't know existed. The inner landscape of my own being terrified me; I stuck to "eh, I do what I do, I don't need to know who I really am" for some time. But the intellect-high was becoming unsustainable, and by the time I finished my M.A., that constant chasing of the "high" had failed to produce any of the expected results or benefits. I failed to get into any PhD programs. I floundered. My "Self" was entirely a product of my intellectual pursuits and capacities. If those pursuits and capacities failed to meet the (arbitrary, commercialized, socially-determined) markers of worthiness and value, then what value did I have? Zip. None. Zilch.

I got as low as I've ever been.

I started teaching, floundering still, and doubly-smacked by my former failings and my ongoing incompetence as a new teacher. Let's just say, it's taken a LOT of work to claw my way out of that hole. I think I've escaped (for the most part), but there's a difference between recognizing that you've stunted your emotional/spiritual growth and actually growing emotionally and spiritually.

I tried to pick up on Christian practices again, hoping that some of those flashes of feeling and connection I had previously experienced would start to fill the void.

They didn't. It isn't that the Christian symbol-system isn't "true" enough, or beautiful enough, or meaningful enough. That's what makes it all so frustrating; I understand Christianity extraordinarily well. It IS beautiful, meaningful, and "true" (in a sense). But now that I'm letting stunted parts of me grow, I find that the framework, the trellis, offered by Christianity (of various brands and flavors) no longer supports me. As a child, I thought I was a tomato. As it turns out, I'm climbing jasmine! (Or vice versa. This metaphor is extraordinarily superficial. Gardening metaphors are not my strong suit.)

But what is the right framework? How do I know which system "fits" best? My intellect keeps trying to form a logical argument, some kind of justification for why one is better than another. But now I know, or at least have a sense of, the fact that you don't "choose" a symbol system purely by intellect alone. You've got to let your vines reach out and grab onto those frames which best support them. It's a blind reach, but once you've got a firm hold, you know whether it will support you or not. The system I'm currently investigating (best described by the articles on the Ar nDraoicht Fein website) feels right. It doesn't just conform to certain intellectual positions (Process Philosophy being the strongest one). It clicks with deep needs and sensibilities, for reasons I can't quite articulate.

Is that the same as a "call"? I'm not sure. I'm not very good at this "heeding experience" thing. "Feeling" itself is difficult for me. But I know, deep down, that seeking to answer this question is worthwhile. The Pagan path has offered me the best tools I have encountered for doing so. Of course, it can't all be about the "answers." As Rainer Maria Rilke wrote,

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.

Walking the Path: Scavenger Hunt!

So I don't consider myself to be a Jungian in any sense of the term (I shudder at the gross over-generalizations of archetypes); however, today was filled with some rather interesting correspondences that may or may not be meaningful.

Despite having only just brushed the surface of my ADF Introduction to the Druid Path, and having spent only about 12 total minutes doing visualization work, and even though I have barely even begun to do the research and study required to truly understand my hearth culture, I decided that I really, really wanted to establish my home altar/shrine. I tend to jump the gun on things like this. Maybe I am just ready to stop thinking and start doing. Over-thinking has had a paralyzing effect on me in the past, and was one of the main reasons why I stopped practicing any path altogether. I have also been impressed by the commonly repeated notion in the ADF that paganism and druidry are far more about "doing than believing." I'm down with that!

So of course I read up on and refreshed my understandings of the basics. I knew I'd need a "cauldron," a "fire," and a "tree," or symbols thereof. Ok, cool. Gotchya. I tried to hunt down two of what I affectionately call "Woo Woo Stores" in my area, only to find that both were closed. Alright then. I decided to settle for Pier 1 and Home Goods. Who cares if said "cauldron" was originally intended as the centerpiece for a soccer mom's outdoor patio table? What matters is intent, not origin*.

So I gathered the raw materials, excited as much by the steps I was taking as by the opportunity to do some shopping and gather "pretty things." (I'm a red-blooded American. Capitalism is as much my religion as Christianity ever was, I'm sorry to say.)

I brought my items home and set them up on the plastic set of drawers currently set in front of my window, for lack of a better space. This is the time to mention that I rent a room in someone else's house, and my room is small. I'd love to use her fabulous backyard setting (complete with an area that would be perfect for ADF ritual), but I doubt she'd appreciate that use of her space. Or, maybe I'm just to nervous to ask!

I checked back in with the ADF guide about how to go about making this sucker (said altar) sacred. (Did I mention I'm sometimes just a little spiritually tone deaf?) Where should the water for the cauldron come from? What kind of "Tree" should I use? The guide suggested I gather the water from three different sources - preferably all from natural, running streams.

Ok. Whoah. Time out. I live in Southern California. There is no running water. If I tried to gather "free water" from three different sources, I'm afraid someone would come up and try to tax me for it. Thankfully, I happen to live in a town with a watershed running through it. There's a pleasant little stream in a little gully that bisects a local park. It was getting close to sunset, but I figured that this was magic time, and I could make it a kind of pilgrimage to gather water from the stream. I haven't gone out to walk in a while, being both out of shape and depressed, so I appreciated the challenge to get outside my comfort zone.

As soon as I stepped out of the house, things started to correspond. Two ravens cried at me as I walked out onto the sidewalk. Now it's Southern California. There are always ravens. But it seemed opportune, considering the grove I joined is called Raven's Cry, and I have  started to form a connection with Odin, whose familiars, Hugin and Munin, were both ravens.

I walked through the neighborhood, happy for once to have my headphones out and my eyes open to the natural beauty around me. Then, in the midst of my path, a freshly dead raven. The ants had just started to get to it. I wondered what it could mean. It didn't shock me, and I didn't immediately take it as a "Bad Omen." *Lightning Crashes in the Background* Rather, I was reminded of the reality of death and change. According to Norse myth, even Odin will die one day, at the Ragnarok. I didn't know why the raven had died, but I was also reminded that most animals in urban and suburban areas die as a result of human impact. If non-human animals are also our Kindreds, then this could have served as a reminder of our responsibility to them, and our failures.

I walked on, and reached the park. The sign stood out to me as another correspondence. Norwegians.

Now, the first Norwegian settlers in the area, whose descendants founded my alma mater and current place of employment, were primarily Lutheran Christians. I started out as a Lutheran Christian. It was one of the reasons I attended that school (just down the road from the park) in the first place. But before that, the ancestors of these settlers (and my own!) worshiped many Gods, acknowledged many Realms, and honored the relationships between them all connected by the great World Tree, Yggdrasil, nourished by the Well of Urd, or Fate.

I passed the sign into the park and down into the gully, where I found a shady spot, not to be interrupted. Of course, the nice man watching his daughter play on the swings on level ground above wanted to say hello and chat. I had to stop and remind myself that humans are my Kin too. I must make space for them and offer hospitality. I opened the bottle I had and prepared to gather the waters.

Earth Mother, you offer up your waters to nourish us all.
Forgive us humans for taking more than our share. 
Let these waters cleanse, sanctify, and nourish me 
As they cleansed, sanctified, and nourished our ancestors. 
Let these waters be for me as the Well of Wyrd.
In them let me see my fate unfold, 
Let me see the unfolding Wyrd and shape my life accordingly.

I placed my bottle under a tiny fall created by a lifted root, and filled it with the surprisingly clear water. Then I braced myself against a tree, whose tangled roots were visible and which was nourished by the stream.

World Tree, Yggdrasil, you connect all the realms.
You shade, support, and center all creatures.
Offer us a path between the realms, 
That we might have fellowship with all the Kindreds.

Further on my walk, I gathered plants and flowers I knew I'd offer to the Nature Spirits later. Two different kinds of lavender, some red seeds from a tree I don't know the name of, a pine cone, a sprig of ivy, and, go figure, a raven's feather.

But it was starting to get dark and I had a long walk home. I started to worry, "What the heck am I going to use as a World Tree?" Well, it was a good thing there was a Trader Joe's on the way home! I bought a tiny potted rosemary plant (small space, remember?). It was no "World Tree," nor was it a stately pole with the face of a God carved into it, but it was green, alive, and fragrant. Good enough for me!

I returned home to assemble my pieces. I have decided to wait until tomorrow to continue, as the ADF has an extensive hallowing rite that I want to be able to complete when my mind is fresh. It looks fairly good, if I might say so. Of course, intention and work are what matter, not flashiness or aesthetics. Michael J. Dangler of the ADF wrote about his first home shrine, constructed in his college dorm room, out of "three bowls and a stick." I am sure that the quality of Michael's devotions more than made up for the simplicity of his altar; perhaps his Gods admired his frugality! I don't know whether my own devotions and meditations will be pleasing to whatever Gods and/or Spirits are out there, Odin, Frigga, Baldur, Eris, Athena, Dionysus, or whoever else wants to show up. I only hope that it can serve as a space in which I can learn to kindle in my own heart a true fire of hospitality.

*Notes: Edited. I flipped the two! Fixed!

Walking the Path

Now that I've decided to embrace an Order, future posts here at Shrewd Speculations will tend to focus on my observations and reflections on the Dedicant Path. The path ahead is long (I definitely can't see the end of it from here, nor the stumbling blocks!) so I anticipate quite a few posts on this topic.

Stay Tuned!

(I promise not to disappear this time.)

A New Year, a New Path (Or how the Goddess of Chaos tailgated me until I moved over into the right lane.)

Wow. Why did I abandon this blog? Possibly because I had Tumblr for a while, then I fucked up so badly that I left under a cloud of ignominy. I felt thrashed by the unfortunate situation that caused me to leave, and spent a lot of time agonizing over it. I did not then realize that those events, which I could only see as disastrous at the time, were in fact important omens of things to come.

During graduate school, I had been introduced to the Mysteries of Eris by a good friend. The Paratheo-Anametamystikhood of Eris Esoteric (or POEE) and the Principia Discordia seemed at the time to be silly and just for fun, even if they also offered up a particularly apt and helpful way of understanding Reality. I found appeals to Eris and Discordian philosophy to be helpful as I made sense of the challenges of graduate school, the collapse of my ego after PhD program rejections, and the unique, exquisitely painful realities of adjunct teaching.

I've been teaching undergraduates as an adjunct lecturer for one and a half years now. During that time, the seeds of doubt and confusion planted in me during graduate school began to blossom. I've studied religion for eight years, I told my students, but I still don't a) really know what it is, nor do I b) actually know what I believe. I started out as a Lutheran Protestant. Then, through an academic exposure to Greek & Coptic Orthodoxy, I fancied myself a mystic with a deep appreciation for High Liturgy. (I mean, hey, who doesn't appreciate High Church liturgy?) Discordianism, Existentialism, Process philosophy/theology, and a few attempts at teaching World Religions then spun me around so fast I hardly knew which way was up.

While I taught, many things changed: I had to stop and actually check in with myself, rather than flutter about in the realm of intellectual potentiality. I finally figured out my sexuality. (Asexual!) By extension, my gender-identity came into question. (Agender? Gender-Queer? IDFK.) I suppose the religion question was due to come back around eventually.

Enter Eris.

A few days ago, I made use of Discordian metaphors in a comical, cultural-critique performed at an eclectic artists' salon in Los Angeles, put on by San Peña Producciones. According to the feedback I got after the show, it worked. It worked really well. Not only was I actually funny (go figure!), but they got it. I started to feel that Eris' chaos-power was a useful way to think and talk about the absurdity of claims to the objective truth-value of particular models of the Order of Reality. Orders (or paradigms, or models, etc.) are never objectively verifiable or "True," but they can be evaluated - by their effects. Some Orders are more beautiful than others. Some are more likely to lead humans to responsible, ethical behavior than other models.

Suddenly, I didn't feel so anxious about picking a model.

Sometimes, it takes an experience of Chaos to push (poke, prod, provoke, prick, etc.) us into adopting more authentic, more genuine, more beautiful models of Order. Sometimes, Chaos bites us in the ass if we linger too long between Orders, refusing (out of laziness) to adopt one. Refusing to adopt an Order doesn't make you more "tolerant" or more "enlightened" than anyone else; it casts you adrift; it removes you from a context; it leads you into apathy; it disorders your relationships with others an the world. Order is as necessary as Chaos. Chaos isn't evil, nor is Order. I tend to value Chaos over Order, generally because I associate Order with domination or control. But this doesn't need to be the case. Only shitty and ill-conceived Orders/Frameworks/Paradigms lead to Domination. The trick is to recognize that Order and Chaos are not separate "things," but potentialities inhering in all human beings. We are the bridges between Chaos and Order, and with those two powers we can make the world. But we most do so carefully, with a deep sense of responsibility for the consequences of that Order, for ourselves as well as for others - human and non-human, as well as for the planet.

....

So what is the Order for me? What Framework will I adopt as I step out onto a new Path, one hopefully characterized by careful, well-intentioned steps, a clear goal, and a sense of responsibility?
I love Christianity. Truly. If this seems in doubt, realize that I've spent the last 8 years studying it, and four of those were spent almost exclusively obsessed with MONKS. Really. I learned two dead languages to try to better understand these amazing people from the past.

But as I've been kicked about by Chaos and its many minions, as I have started to integrate the vast amount of data I have accumulated about religion over the years (that's going to take a while!), I have found that the monotheistic, creedal paradigm just doesn't work for me anymore. I don't know if it ever really did, or if I was just fooling myself. (As a counterpoint, Eris would fart in my face and chortle: "You're ALL just fooling yourselves!")

I had the great pleasure to attend two rituals held by my local Druid grove, affiliated with Ar nDraiocht Fein, or ADF. I went out of sheer academic curiosity during Imbolc and had a ball. The second time was for their Skirophoria ritual, a Greek "first-fruits" celebration. This second ritual happened the day AFTER my Discordian-themed rant at the San Peña salon. A friend of mine from graduate school and her BF were there as well. Unlike me, they have long identified with neo-pagans.

In the midst of the dance offering, one of the offering bowls to the omphalos (axis mundi/World Tree) was overturned. An apple was kicked aside, and I swear, when that apple rolled, it was like a flash bang. It knocked me back, blinded me, deafened me; but in that dark silence there was a ringing in my ears then a faint laughter. Gotchya Bitch! ... Thanks, Eris.

If you know anything about the myth of the Apple of Discord, the apple was the equivalent of the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand for the ancient Greek world. It helped kick off the Trojan War. The instant I picked up the apple, I shared a horrified look with my friend. HOLY SHIT. Was this a sign?

Now, if you know me, you know that I don't put much stock in "woo woo" stuff. Really. I'm pretty skeptical. I also happen to be spiritually tone deaf. But in this moment, when the Gates were open and the Sacred Space centered us all within a truly meaningful Cosmos ... I felt connected.

So you know what? Maybe Gods and Goddesses do exist. Maybe they don't. But what I do know is that in my initial studies into the cosmology and assumptions held by the ADF, I finally feel like I've found an Order that centers me. So I'm going to read my ADF guide. I'm going to work with and support my local Grove. I'm going to pray, which is something I haven't done in nearly a year. Not just that, but I'm going to follow the ADF's Order of Ritual for the Solitary as I pray. This former-Protestant is going full Catholic Pagan!

You know what? I'm actually excited. For the first time in a while, I've got a path. Why not walk for a while, enjoy the scenery, and see where it goes?