Tag Archives: Paganism

Deities in my spiritual practice: Exploring a journal prompt from chapter 12 of “Changing Paths”

Good morning, readers! It’s Friday and it’s time to explore the next chapter of Changing Paths by Yvonne Aburrow. This blog series is up to chapter twelve, which is titled “Changing Paths Within the Pagan Sphere.” I have chosen to focus on the following prompt for this post:

Does your practice focus on self-development, creating community connections, or devotion to gods and spirits? Does that sit comfortably with the tradition you currently practice?

In many ways, I think my practice tends to incorporate all of these things without over-emphasizing any of them. I view them as all related. For me, creating community and helping to create a better and more just world is in part accomplished through self improvement, and my relationship with my deities helps drive those processes.

I will note that while I consider my relationship with my gods to be devotional to some degree, I do not mean that in a way that I think many people think of when they think of being devoted to a deity. In a previous post, I offered a few comments on the “human/deity divide,” and my views on that matter impact the nature of my relationship — even the devotional aspect — with my deities. For me, being devoted to Freyja — and the other Norse deities to a lesser degree — is more like being devoted to my husband or a good friend. There is much affection there and I revere my deities’ wisdom and guidance, but I also still have my independent spirit. And quite frankly, I don’t think my deities would have it any way.

But my relationship with Freyja and the other deities goes beyond devotion as well, just as my relationships with my husband and my friends do. We are also partners in a great effort — that effort to make the world a better and more just place. So we have discussions. We occasionally even have arguments. I’ve even been known to swear at my deities before. And again, they respect me for it. In the end, we are bound together in our desire to build community, a better world, and a better place.

As for whether my current tradition supports this, I would say so. After all,e I’m building my own tradition in many ways. But the lore I’m drawing inspiration from aligns with these ideas, I think. One of the things I noticed about the Norse myths and sagas pretty quickly is that there seems to be this constant balance between personal freedom and communal obligation. And I see that dance of building community, working with the deities (and other spirits), and improving myself reflected in that balance.

#ChangingPathsChallenge2024: Festivals

I have an embarrassing confession to make. Despite being a witch for over 25 years, I still struggle with some of the festivals. I often feel like I just don’t connect with them.

I love Yule and Samhain (though I’m seriously thinking of celebrating Winter Nights, which comes a bit earlier in the year, instead). They were easy to connect to. Yule is the longest night of the year and I’ve always felt an affinity to nighttime and darkness. And Samhain is the start of the winter half of the year, so I can relate to that in a similar fashion. Plus, I love the ancestors, and Samhain is often associated (at least in modern times) with the ancestors and the dead in general.

I feel a pretty strong connection to Beltane as well. I like the brightness and activity. And let’s face it, I don’t think a person can be a devotee/priest1 of Freyja or any other sexually charged goddess and not feel something at Beltane.

To a lesser degree, I often feel something at Imbolc as well. That’s usually because here in western New York, we tend to get our first sunny day with some hint of the coming warmth sometime in February. I remember a number of years when I went to my car to head for work, felt that sun, and immediately felt like I was shaking off some sort of slumber or stupor. So I can appreciate Imbolc as a time when we first get that initial hint of the coming spring.

The rest of the traditional eight Sabbats that Wiccans and many Neo-Pagans honor tend to feel distant and forced to me. As such, I don’t really do much for most of them. Some days, that bothers me and leaves me worrying whether I’m “Pagan Enough.” Other days, I just accept that I’m doing my own thing anyway, and that can include focusing on the holidays and festivals that hold meaning to me.

I’ve also been thinking about exploring other festivals outside of the eight ones so commonly used. For example, many Heathen groups have their own schedule of festivals and holy days. (Winter Nights, which I mentioned earlier, is one such example.) So I’ve started looking over their calendar and thinking about what holy days and festivals I might be drawn to.

(This post is part of #ChangingPathsChallenge2024. For more information about the challenge and a list of topics, check out Yvonne Aburrow’s post announcing the challenge.)

Footnote(s)

  1. Potential topic for a future blog post. I rarely call myself a priest of Freyja, because that’s making a pretty strong claim. I’m reminded of a conversation of one of the mailing lists for The Troth about how you tell if you’re actually a priest. One half-joking answer given was “when you call yourself a priest of a particular god and the rest of the community doesn’t immediately laugh at the idea.” I’m not sure whether I’m there yet or not. I guess I’d have to do some “testing.” ↩︎

Why I like being a Pagan: Exploring a journal prompt from Chapter 8 of “Changing Paths”

Happy Friday readers! In this blog post, I continue working my way through Changing Paths by Yvonne Aburrow. Today’s prompt is from chapter eight, which is titled “Joining a Pagan Tradition.”1 I’ve chosen the following prompt as a guide and inspiration for this post:

What aspect of Paganism are you drawn to? Is it magic and witchcraft? Nature, the Earth, or the land? Ancestors? Trees, stars, and stones? A specific pantheon of deities or a specific ancient culture?

This feels like another one of those prompts where I’ve spent this entire blog exploring the underlying question, so it’ll be somewhat challenge to distill several years of thoughts into a single cohesive post.2

I think the first thing that comes to mind is the memory of how the idea magic drew me to witchcraft (and Paganism in general) almost immediately back in 1998. It wasn’t necessarily even the thought of self-empowerment that comes with the ability to work magic, though that definitely was a factor. There was some part of me that almost craved a sense of wonder and magic — something existing just beyond the humdrum of everyday life — all my life. I remember being a kid and imagining that I could feel the flow of magical energy all around me. So imagine my delight when I read Cunningham’s book3 and realized that some people thought that was actually real. To make a pun of it, I was enchanted.

Of course, as I matured as a witch, I also began to appreciate what I might call the magical of the mundane. I came to appreciate that the separation between a magical life and a mundane one was actually illusory, which is an idea that appealed to me ever since.

I gravitated toward the Norse deities and Freyja over a period of a few years after exploring a few options. For example, i spent about a year studying Irish mythology and trying to connect with the Tuatha De Danann. This was mainly because I found a young gentleman at my local witch shop who was also studying and was a member of Ar nDriacht Fein, a Druid group4 founded by Isaac Bonewitts.

However, my friend and I discussed some of our other interests, and for me, that included the runes, which I had begun studying (at the suggestion of my first boyfriend, no less) even before I decided to leave Christianity.5 My friend noted that I practically lit up when I started talking about the runes and the lore that was often woven into interpreting and understanding them. He commented that while I clearly enjoyed learning about Irish mythology, I did not have that same passion for it. So he strongly encouraged me to seek to build a relationship with the Aesir and Vanir instead. And that’s how I eventually became a Freyjasman.6

As time went by, the ancestors became increasingly important to me. This was especially true as I learned more about seidr and other shamanistic7 aspects of Norse magic. Of course, my first introduction to the idea of honoring the ancestors likely came from my time with ADF, which includes calling and honoring the ancestors in their ritual structure. But it became more important as I began a more practical and intimate practice of working with the ancestors on a more one-on-one level.

As for honoring nature, I have very mixed feelings about the relationship between Paganism and nature, at least how it often seems to be viewed in the greater Pagan community. As someone who grew up in rural Pennsylvania, went hunting a couple times (I quickly realized I had neither the patience nor the overall temperament for it), and grew up camping, I had a great deal of appreciation for nature. I still think much of nature and spending time in nature is wondrous and important. I also think that preserving nature is crucial.

And yet, as an old rural boy, I sometimes feel that many Pagans romanticize and even idolize “nature” in a way that doesn’t resonate with my experiences with nature. I often find myself wondering if any of them have actually taken a hike in the woods or spent much time in the parts of nature not meticulously maintained by people.

Also, I feel like some of my Pagans tend to forget that humans are a part of nature, and that includes our tendency to build structures, societies, and the amenities of civilization. The “nature vs. human civilization” divide sometimes seems overblown to me at times.8

I think for me, this is a topic where my perception of Midgard vs. Utgard is instructive for me.9 On one level, I tend to view them as symbolic of the (relatively) secure places established by human civilization and the untamed places in the world that exist beyond those boundaries. I also think that we as humans need both of these places and that human survival requires us to cross into those untamed places at times. I also think that once you start thinking about these ideas, the boundary between Midgard and Utgard tend to get much fuzzier than we first thought.

That was probably quite the tangent though. At any rate, I hope you’ve enjoyed this latest insight into the things that have drawn me most and meant he most to me in Paganism as I practice it. I’d love to hear your own thoughts in the comments!

Footnotes

  1. I will note that this is the first chapter in part two of the book, where Aburrow shifts focus to exploring and following Pagan spiritualities. For those who are not interested in becoming a Pagan, I acknowledge that the rest of the posts in this series and (and the rest of Aburrow’s book) may not be as directly applicable or even interesting as part one. As such, I understand if you choose to skip the rest of this series, though I hope you’ll at least consider sticking around. After all, you may find ways to apply my own thoughts and Aburrow’s book to your own spiritual path (or lack thereof). Either way, I wish you well. ↩︎
  2. Me being me, I may abandon all pretense of cohesion fairly quickly. ↩︎
  3. Many of you undoubtedly know exactly which one I’m talking about. ↩︎
  4. I’ll note that ADF (whose new website I just noticed) is a bit different than some Druid organizations in that it does not limit itself, its members, or its groves to Celtic reconstructionism. It welcomes and encourages the exploration of any and all Indo-European cultures, their myths, and their religious traditions. However, my friend and the proto-grove he hoped to established were focused on Irish myths and culture. ↩︎
  5. This is where I make most of the Heathens reading this post groan (or worse) by confessing that my foray into the runes started with getting a copy of Ralph Blum’s “Book of Runes.” Don’t worry, though. My studies quickly expanded to sources more rooted in Norse cosmology, mythology, and lore. ↩︎
  6. Okay, Odin occasionally shows up with some lesson he wants me to learn or a change he wants me to make. But my practice and devotion is definitely focused on Freyja. ↩︎
  7. I forget where I picked it up from, but I’ve adopted the practice of describing practices that bear similarities to various shamanic practices as “shamanistic” while reserving the term “shamanic” to refer to practices that are part of a vocation in certain cultures. ↩︎
  8. In the past, I’ve asserted that the sexual (and other) energy often found at a rave in the city is as much a manifestation of nature as an idyllic site in the forest and I’m inclined to stand by that claim. ↩︎
  9. My brain is also slow-baking a retelling of the myth of Thor’s encounter with Utgard-Loki where Utgard-Loki is the protagonist, protecting the untamed places from Thor and his compatriots, whom he saw as invaders. I think this retelling would underscore the dangers of destroying the untamed places by imposing too much order on them. But I’m just a witch who thinks a certain level of chaos is needed for life to thrive in the end. ↩︎

Pagan Ponderings: Old Gods, New Pantheons

Earlier today, I answered a question over on Quora which asked whether Pagans believed in more than one pantheon. I would like to duplicate part of that answer here.

The other thing that I will note is that in my opinion, “pantheons” are mostly a cultural construct. They’re the result of a bunch of cults to different gods existing in close proximity and their various members intermingling. In this sense the “Greek pantheon” is simply a collection of the various deities that the various people living in Greece (or more properly, the Greek city-states) worshiped. Eventually, people started trying to figure out how these various deities related to each other, and the myths explaining those relationships emerged.

I think that as the modern Pagan movement gains traction and maturity, we might see new pantheons emerge. That is, rather than merely talking about what culture a given deity originated, we will start inventing new stories to explain their relationships to the various other deities they find themselves co-existing with today.

I found this idea both fascinating and appealing. As I mentioned in my answer, I believe that pantheons are the result of different cults/religious groups that worship different deities living in proximity of one another. So why do we still think about ancient pantheons rather than the pantheons that might be forming in our own communities by virtues of which deities we each worship while living together?

And what about the more eclectic Pagans among us who tend to worship different deities who stem from different cultures? Does it not make sense to think of this disparate group as forming a sort of pantheon today? Perhaps even new myths about how Aphrodite and The Morrigan relate to one another and share a follower in common. In many ways,

I imagine the more strict reconstructionists are practically howling in rage at this idea. But some of us are much more innovative and are not as interested in maintaining some weird (and often illusory) sense of historicity. instead, we cherish the (again, sometimes illusory) historical roots, but take them in new directions. And this is okay.

For those of us who are so innovative, I think developing new pantheons and even myths explaining the wide variety of deities is a rational and natural development of our pagan traditions as they grow and mature. Such a thing might even be necessary for that growth and maturity. After all, it might help add some level of cohesion to the often scattered and disparate gods whose names get bandied about in an almost random-seeming manner.

Pondering Priesthoods in Paganism

This past Sunday, I got into a conversation on Twitter in which the topic of priests came up. This got me thinking about the role(s) of priests in Paganism. To that effect, I want to capture and offer a few thoughts on priesthood(s).

There should be no priest vs. non-priest basis for determining a person’s value or worth.

In some religions there is sometimes a sense — whether officially stated in doctrine or simply implied by practice and attitude — that priests are somehow superior, closer to the Divine, or more special than non-priests. This kind of thinking has no place in Pagan practice. Priests who promote such thinking should be avoided and left without any followers.

Priesthoods may be established to perform special services to a deity or deities or otherwise form special relationship with them.

One of the most well-known examples of this are those priests of Brigid who keep an eternal flame lit in service to her. These kinds of priesthoods don’t necessarily serve other Pagans in the more common priest-laity relationship. They simply serve their deity or deities or form a special relationship with them that is personally meaningful.

It is important to note that being a member of this sort of priesthood does not make one better than those who are not. Relationships with the Divine are like relationships with human beings. Each person chooses the relationships that they need, want, and find personally fulfilling. A person who wants a more casual relationship with the Divine (“I’ll call when I need something or invite you if I have a really big party”) is just as valid as someone who chooses to get more deeply involved (“Let’s be besties!”).

Some priesthoods may offer services to members of the “laity,” but is should be done from a place of humility.

There are times when someone may want advice, require comfort, or need other services from another person, and there is something to be said for priests who have dedicated time and experience toward this end. Also, since many Pagan traditions believe in and practice magic, it might make sense for some priesthoods to provide help in that area. Such priesthoods should seek to empower those they help rather than keeping others dependent on their priestly services, however.

The Divine is within everyone and belongs to everyone. Not just priests.

Above all else, this must be kept in mind. Priests are not our only connection to the Divine. We have our own connection, every last one of us. We might benefit from a priest’s counsel or comfort. They might provide us a service that we find useful at a given time. But they are not the source or bridge to all Divine grace. We may ignore the priests if we wish and still live healthy spiritual lives. A good priest will be the first to promote this ideal.

Other posts I’ve made about this topic

Witchy questions: Do you work with a Pantheon?

This post is inspired by Question #5 from this list.

I touched on this briefly in my last post, in which I talked about my relationship with Freyja and other Norse deities. By and large, I like to keep my emphasis on focus on the Norse deities, as it allows me to keep things within the context of a single system of myths and lore. While I admire others who seem to have no problem working with and relating to deities from diverse cultural sources, it’s just not generally something that appeals to me, nor do I feel it would work well for me. Partly, I think this goes back to the idea that my ability to call on and relate to other Norse deities stems from the relationship they and I both have to Freyja. If I were to try to reach out to a Celtic deity, it would require extra work and would feel like more of a “cold call” to me.

The one exception is the Greek god Pan, who I occasionally feel drawn to. I think that has to do with the sexual energies he represents from a more masculine point of view, something I don’t quite feel with Freyja. What’s interesting to me is that I don’t have that same feeling toward Freyja’s own brother, Freyr, despite the fact that he is a deity of fertility and sexuality. But to me at least — and I’d be curious to hear the thoughts of other people with experience with Freyr — his sexual energy feels much more tame and civilized than his sister’s energy. I tend to attribute this to the fact that his fertility is linked tot he fertility of the land, often described as the king married to the land. It feels to me as if that crown and his obligations calms and constrains his own sexual energy. Pan, on the other hand, has that wild and even chaotic sexual energy that I am so familiar with through Freyja, and that appeals to me.

Witchy Questions: Do you have a Patron God/dess?

This post was inspired by Question #4 on this list.

In my early years of trying to find my way in Paganism, I became a member of Ar nDraiocht Fein/A Druid Fellowship. At the time (and presumably today), that organization’s Dedicant Program strongly pushed seeking out and finding a patron deity or a pair of them. I didn’t find or connect with Freyja until after I dropped my membership, but that push for finding a patron deity or two stuck with me and has shaped my path since then.

A while back, I found a Patheos post by Ian Corrigan in which he talked about some of the motivations behind the inclusion of patronage as a central part of the ADF Dedicant program as well as some criticisms of it. I also found some of his views on the topic and how he tended to instruct newcomers at the time of that post’s writing worthy of consideration.

I especially like how Ian focuses on the idea of emphasis without exclusivity. While I have a tight relationship with Freyja, which I have talked about elsewhere, I am not forbidden from speaking with or establishing relationships with other deities. It’s as though she and I have a simple relationship: I am to keep my commitments to her and am then free to do as I please.

One of the other things that I personally find is that my relationship with Freyja can shape my relationships with other Norse deities and can provide context and even a starting point for them. For example, if I need the aid of Thor, I feel that being strongly connected with a goddess who has helped him out with a sticky situation or two (see: lending out her falcon cloak so Loki could find Thor’s hammer when it was stolen) gives me a certain standing to call on him.

Of course, at the same time, i was building a relationship with Freyja, I also thought about building a relationship with Thor on its own merits. This was at a time when “gender balance” was more important to me in my divine interactions. Alas, my attempts to build something with Thor was quickly demolished when I found myself ushered into the presence of Odin who informed me that I needed to work with him and his energies instead.

Of course, at this point, I don’t really consider even Odin to be a patron deity. This is partly because he is not ever-present int he same way Freyja is. In fact, it’s probably been a couple years in which I’ve really felt his presence at all. For a while, I’d feel him only at those times — often in the spring — when it seemed he felt I had become too comfortable and needed to undergo yet another change or transformative process. Nowadays, he seems to be content to let me be. Which leaves me wondering if the patronage of a deity may not be as permanent as I once thought.

Words to honor the Ancestors

I give honor to those who came before me. Founders of my  bloodline who made me who I am. The now gone wise ones who explored the great mysteries and left clues that I might follow. Those who taught me, either directly or indirectly.

As I consider the strong foundations you have left for me, I thank you for shaping me and the world around me into what we are today. May what I do with your gifts be pleasing to you. Advise me so that my efforts are a fitting gift for those who come after me, those who may honor me alongside you someday.

So mote it be.

A few Yule Thoughts

Happy Yule!1

This post should go live right at sunset here in Rochester, NY. When it does, I should have about an hour and a half left at work before I run home, pick up Hubby, and head to the covenstead to prepare and share some tasty stew and share in one another’s company. What better way could there be to face the longest night of the year than with good food and good company?

Some days, I think many Wiccans and Pagans (or maybe I’m just incorrectly generalizing from my own experiences) forget the importance of community when it comes to the Sabbats, especially this one. Traditionally, this was the time of year when people in Europe were staying inside and out of the cold as much as possible. They relied on the food stores they had managed to gather up over the warmer months and hoped and prayed it all held out until they could start growing food again. And they relied on one another to make it through that process. If your neighbor was running on supplies, you gave them as much as you could simply because you might need your neighbor to help you with as shortage next year.

To the best of my knowledge, no one is my coven is in danger of running out of food this winter. But we do rely on one another in other ways. At least some of us do tend to suffer from seasonal depression at this time of year, and I think having the group to turn to on nights like this is a comfort that helps us to navigate through the emotional lows. It also hopes give us hope that just like this longest night, this will pass, the days will grow longer, and our moods will brighten along with those days.

That is something to celebrate. Or at least something to think about while we eat yummy stew and ride it out together.


1Happy Summer Solstice to any readers from the Southern Hemisphere. Sorry, but as is my tradition, the rest of the post will focus on Yule, as that’s what I’m experiencing right now.

Musings on Mimir’s Well and Ocular Sacrifices

WellOne of my favorite myths is the myth of Odin’s sacrifice of his eye in order to earn the right to drink from Mimir’s well.  It’s one of the myths that explains how Odin gained his wisdom.

One of the most common interpretations I have heard of this myth — promoted by people like Edred Thorsson — is that Odin gave up his eye and dropped it into the well so that it could forever scan the well’s depths, giving Odin knowledge of the secret wisdom contained in the well itself.  It’s an interesting interpretation, but I’ve never really cared for it.  I came to my own understanding of this myth.

I’d say that my own understanding was greatly influenced by the fact that I lived almost the entirety of the first three decades of my life with strabismus, which caused me to learn a good bit about stereoscopic vision, depth perception, and how important two eyes that work in cooperation are to one’s vision.  When I finally had surgery (actually, the second one, this time as an adult) to correct my strabismus, I learned how messing with your eyes can severely alter the perception of the world around you.  (Imagine reaching for a glass only to realize that it’s several inches further away from you than you thought, for example.)

To me, Odin’s sacrifice seems to be more about a change of the way he looked at the world, giving up old perceptions rather than clinging to them.  To me, this is a powerful mythic message for the rest of us.  To gain wisdom and knowledge, we first have to admit that maybe the things we think we know, the way we look at things, our very assumptions, may need to be sacrificed.  Refusing to let go of these things keeps us trapped and bars us from the new wisdom that is being presented to us.

Interestingly, while doing a quick search in preparation for this post, I ran across a post by Wytch in the North.  In it, she describes a couple interpretations of the myths that come close to my own.  Those interpretations differ in that they seem to see the sacrifice as a shift (or a partial one) from linear/logical thinking to esoteric/creative thinking.  I’m not convinced of that, as I think that a true change of perception that can be caused by the loss of an eye affects both of those categories of thinking.  (I’m also hesitant to draw a huge distinction between those to modes of thinking, anyway.)  All the same, it’s nice to know that I’m not the only one who’s taken a different view of this myth than giants like Edred Thorsson.