A Sun Ritual

Sometimes, the simplest rituals are the most meaningful. Imagine going outside at dawn, lighting some incense, and then singing a song of praise to the sun as it rises....

I want to share with you a song I learned during my time at the temple. It can be used as I describe above, the crown of a simple outdoor ceremony, or integrated into a more elaborate ritual of any style. The song (and accompanying ritual, if you wish) is perfect to perform at sunrise or on the winter solstice. Or whenever the mood strikes you. I often sing it on cold days when the sun has come out to warm me up. In fact, because I enjoy singing it so much, I frequently find myself singing it just for the hell of it!

So here it is, "The Sun":

Welcome to you, O Sun of the Season!

You, walking high in the heavens,

your footsteps strong on the wings of the heights;

you, the adored Mother of the Stars.

You lie down in the destructive ocean

without misfortune and without fear;

you rise up on the forked wave of peace,

a queenly maiden blooming.

Reconnecting

In June 2011, Temple of the River closed. It was my spiritual home for nearly six years, and while I learned many amazing things and met one of my best friends there, by the time its doors closed, I must admit that I was somewhat relieved to see it's demise. For a number of reasons, the last couple of years at the temple were very difficult for me. Its focus became so external that, as a result, my own energy was spent promoting the temple rather than nurturing my own spirituality. It happened so slowly that I didn't notice it until one day I just realized how utterly disconnected I felt from my practice and my gods. Still, I continued. For all the other troubles there were, I believed in what the temple was doing, and I wanted it to go on. But things continued to decline, and my spirituality continued to feel more and more hollow. My connection with my gods continued to wane. And still, because of my loyalty, because of everything that I had learned, I continued. And then one day, my then-teacher sent me an email, saying that, "Tonight I felt a great outrage from the Mórríghan. I have spoken closely with Lugh and Mórríghan about your apprenticeship and they are quite clear that you are out of second chances."

As I said, by that point, I had almost no remaining connection to my gods. And whatever was left was shattered by that declaration. Despite the fact that part of me knew how ridiculous his claim was, the other part of me, the part that was still the submissive student, figured that he had to be right. He knew a lot of things, had been my trusted teacher and priest for years. If anyone could know such a thing, it had to be him, right? The sensible part told myself that if this was correct, Morrighan herself would have told me so - and yet I felt no such outrage. But on the other hand, I wasn't feeling much of anything. The frightened part of myself said the silence was proof that Morrighan had to be pissed off at me. She was pissed off because I was ignoring her, because I was a terrible student, and because I was being whiny and weak for not doing more for the temple, despite all I had already given and how exhausted and strained I had become. I was a failure, plain and simple. I was not worth Morrighan's time. I was not worth any god's time.

For a couple of months after I left the temple, my spirituality was more or less nonexistent. The gods and the lore were always in the back of my mind, but I couldn't bring myself to do much of anything about it. There were still too many wounds that were still too fresh. Then I got into Kemetic religion, and learning about something so different helped to ease me back into a spiritual state of being. As a result, I was able to make more of an effort to reestablish a connection with my Celtic beliefs and practices. It wasn't much; an Imbolc celebration here, a little offering there, and maybe a couple of prayers in between. Still, there wasn't much feedback. By the time I wrote this post, I had realized that my Celtic practices still carried too many negative associations from my time at the temple, and thus decided to set them aside altogether to focus on my Kemetic ones. That post was a dedication to Morrighan and An Badb Cath before I went on my way, in case I would never be able to return to them.

Then something amazing happened. Last week, I felt a calling. I sat down in front of my long-neglected Celtic altar, and felt inspired to make offerings to Morrighan. It had been months since I had done any such thing, and the feeling I got from her was unlike anything I'd experienced before. In most ways she was the same; Morrighan's presence always felt to me like I was being wrapped in a darkness that was all at once beautiful, powerful, and comforting. But this time there was something more. There was a loving, caring, warm welcome. I was the child, confused and unhappy, who had to go her own way for a while; she was the mother who let me go, knowing that I had to have my own adventures and make my own mistakes. That offering was the homecoming. She welcomed me with a hug and a glad heart, as if to say, "you're finally here. I've been waiting for you, and I'm so happy to have you back. Welcome home!"

I finally feel like I can return to my Celtic practices. They feel new, and whole, and most importantly, they feel like mine. I doubt that Morrighan was ever outraged at me. I don't know why my former teacher told me such a thing. Maybe he was mistaken, maybe he was projecting his own frustrations, maybe he was trying to manipulate me. I don't think I'll ever know, but at this point, it doesn't matter anymore. I believe that Morrighan wanted me to go my own way for a while and figure things out for myself. I also believe that she called me when she knew I sorted my issues out, and that she knew I'd come back. Regardless of what happened at the temple, or what baggage it left me with, I know now that Morrighan is indeed my goddess, and that I am her child. I know that she wants me around, that she loves me. I see now that the rough road was worth it for this affirmation.

The reason I am sharing all of this is not to air my dirty laundry on a public forum. I have said the things that I have said only because they are a part of my story of uncertainty and disconnection. I have said the things I have said to show how shattered my faith had become, and subsequently, how it became restored. I have said these things with the hope of encouraging my fellow Pagans. Everyone goes through moments of spiritual dissonance. Sometimes they are severe and persistent, sometimes they have a singular cause, sometimes they seem to come from nowhere. Sometimes overcoming them requires patience and persistence, sometimes it requires going another way for a while. All we can do in the meantime is remind ourselves that spiritual life is a journey. Sometimes we get lost (or only think we get lost), but all we can do is keep going. It is only when we've stopped that we've truly lost our way.

Praise to The Great Queen!

Papyrus Painting - Serqet

Here is a picture of Serqet that I painted for one of my friends for her birthday. Because blasphemy is fun, I took the liberty of depicting the scorpion atop her head in a more lifelike fashion, rather than the stingerless, legless manner it usually is.

Serqet, She Who Causes the Throat to Breathe

Happy Samhain!

Used with permission by Jenny Mathiasson. Thanks, Jenny!

I know that this comic is Kemetic, and that Samhain is a Celtic holiday, but I like to think that this sentiment applies to everyone, no matter the religious or spiritual path (or lack thereof).  For me, the most important part of Samhain is honoring my ancestors.  There are Kemetic holidays with the same purpose, but like a bad Kemetic practitioner, I haven't celebrated any of those yet.  It is said that the veil between the worlds is thinnest at Samhain, and maybe it's a lifetime of adoring Halloween, over a decade and a half of being Pagan, or the dramatic shift of the seasons towards Winter, but I swear I can feel it.

My observance of Samhain this year will be centered around tending a special shrine for them.  Yet the important part will come after the day's festivities are over.  I hate to admit that in the past I haven't been diligent about my ancestor worship, but that's something I've recently decided to work on.  After all, their presence in our lives isn't restricted to just one day of the year. They are always with us, both figuratively, and in a very real sense. It's because of our ancestors that we're here. We literally owe them our lives. We come from their blood, some of them share our memories, and they help shape our experiences and worldview.

Parties are all well and good, but they really do deserve more than one night.

Why I Am Not a Vegetarian

It was supposed to be springtime, but when we arrived at that remote patch of forest in western Wisconsin, there was about 18 inches of snow on the ground. There were seven of us, all members of my then-temple and spiritual family. Between us, there were two hatchets, a few knives, some blankets, and the clothes on our backs. We brought no food because we were going to hunt and gather our own, we were going to build our own shelters, and we were going to live that way for three days. The setting may sound extreme, but we were not there for camping; we were there on a retreat. Our intention was to meet Nature Itself, to learn not only about survival, but to learn something about spirituality. What better way to do that than to let Nature be your teacher?

There was indeed one very important lesson I learned on that retreat, and it is one that I continue to keep close to my heart. Our first day out, a lone porcupine had the misfortune of being spotted by a fellow student. To make this part of the story short, we hunted, killed, butchered, and ate the porcupine (who we posthumously named Penelope). Now, I didn't kill Penelope myself, and I didn't butcher her myself, but I watched all of that happen, and I ate her. I was an accessory to her murder, and in my opinion, just as guilty of it as the ones who did the deed.

Before that retreat I had long toyed with the idea of becoming a vegetarian, and considered endlessly the ethics of eating animals. I always wondered if I could stand to kill and butcher an animal, and whether or not I was a hypocrite for eating meat while being so far removed from that process. Intellectually, I knew all about the circle of life; there was even a whole song about it in "The Lion King." Animals eat other animals to survive, and in the end, everyone becomes compost. That's just how nature works. I also knew that humans are, essentially, animals, and we've eaten (and been eaten by) them for as long as we've been around. Yet my experience with Penelope tore all of those ideas from the realm of the theoretical. Being an active participant in that cycle made me face it as a reality.

As difficult and uncomfortable as the retreat was physically, the experience with Penelope was by far the hardest part of it to deal with. To this day, it remains one of the most difficult trials I've ever faced. I wondered how I, a self-professed animal lover, could possibly justify participating in such a thing. But it was cold, I was hungry, and I wanted to survive. In the end, Penelope taught me what it means to take a life to sustain my own. Her memory serves as a constant reminder that I am as much a part of that cycle as she was, along with the worms, the wolves, everything.

Vegetarians and vegans often say that our intellect and conscience gives us the ability (or obligation, according to some) to choose not to eat animals or animal products. While I do deeply respect and admire the decision to not eat animals, I personally feel that that decision would remove me from an important natural order. As modern people, many aspects of our lives are so far removed from nature already. Eating food, regardless of whether or not you are a vegetarian, is too often a thoughtless task, taken for granted. In the end, my conclusion was that it's not about not eating animals, but about honoring their lives and their sacrifice. It's about making sure that the lives we take are treated with dignity and respect while they are here. Being mindful of where my food comes from became the more meaningful choice for me.

While I could go on, I hate being long-winded in my posts. Instead, I'll simply recommend that you read two great articles that better express the ethics of food: "My Vegetarian Adventure" and "Beyond Halal."

In memory of Penelope.
May the gods grant you a good afterlife, and a swift return to this one.

Temple of the Sacred Gift

Today's post may be unusually short, but that that doesn't lessen the importance of today's topic. I was surprised and very, very pleased to learn today that a Wiccan church called The Temple of the Sacred Gift opened in Memphis, TN. It takes a lot of dedication and courage to open a Pagan place of worship anywhere, much less in the Bible Belt. It has been many years since I've considered myself Wiccan, but I'm still so proud of these people and their temple. This is a great step forward for all Pagans everywhere. You can read more about this wonderful story here.

Blessed be!

Covered In Light

Once upon a time, there was a group called Covered In Light, who described themselves as "...a Sisterhood of Pagan/Polytheist self-identified women who have chosen, or are called, to cover their hair as part of their religious observance." They started a Facebook event called Covered In Light International Day, the purpose of which was to encourage women to wear a covering of their choice to stand in solidarity with women who choose to veil. Though their group was disbanded and the original FB event canceled, their website is still up (which you really should check out, because they have awesome posts like this one), as is their Facebook page. There's also a new event page for others to join and show their support.

Pagans have been writing about the personal choice to veil for a while now, such as Qefathethert on her blog Fire of the Serpent. But the topic of head covering goes beyond Paganism. Obviously there's Islam, from which a lot of fear and ignorance about veiling comes. And Tess Dawson, a leader of Natib Qadish, has an enlightening blog post about how she views the topic of covering one's head in her religion.

I bring this up because religious tolerance is something that is very important to me. Being Pagan, I feel that it is important to be respectful of others' religious views and practices. With as often Pagans are misunderstood and marginalized as we are, I'm surprised that we as a whole aren't more sensitive to the rights people of other religions have. You see, I have this silly idea that whenever you stand up for the beliefs of another, you are by extension standing up for your own religious freedom.

So the purpose of my blog post today is to encourage you to join me in Covered In Light Day Renewed on September 21st, even if you are a woman who has never veiled before. Please join me in this act of solidarity, and take one small action to make a stand against religious bigotry.

I don't think it's a bad look for me....

Personally, I don't veil. I've never felt a spiritual pull to do so, and from a more secular position, I'm simply not accustomed to wearing anything on my head. I always think I look stupid in hats, so I never wear them, except in winter. Being that veiling would be a new experience, I decided to try a test run so I wouldn't feel completely out of my element on the 21st. I experimented with a couple of scarves in a couple of styles until I came up with something I liked. I can't say it suits me, as I'm not used to seeing myself wear anything like this, but it doesn't not suit me, either. And either way, it's a pretty scarf!

Happy Wep Ronpet!

Today was my first celebration of Wep Ronpet, or the Kemetic new year, and the epagomenal days, the five days beforehand in which Nut's children were born. At this time last year, I was still very new to Kemetic stuff (I can't believe it's been over a year already!), and I didn't quite feel familiar enough with everything to celebrate it then. But this year is a different story, and I had quite a celebration!

For those who don't know it, the short version of the story of the epagomenal days is that Nut was cursed to be unable to give birth to her children on any day of the year. So Djehuty (Thoth) played a game of senet against Konshu (god of the moon) and won some moonlight from him. With it he created five extra days outside of the year in which Nut could bear her children. I celebrated these days by giving offerings to Wesir (Osiris), Heru-wer (Horus), Set, Aset (Isis), and Nebt-het (Nephtys) on their respective birthdays. It was enlightening, especially considering the fact that it was the first time that I've given offerings to a couple of the gods mentioned.

But today is Wep Ronpet, the big day! I did a senut ritual and gave offerings to Ra to welcome the sun of the new year, Sekhmet to destroy isfet (chaos) in the coming year, Wepwawet to help open the year (seriously, who else would you ask?), Nut because in Kemetic Orthodoxy this year was divined to be hers, Bast-Mut to ask for her blessings and protection (and because she's my Mother!), and Ma'at to ensure that, well, ma'at prevails in the new year. I also burned a paper snake to destroy Apep, and I smashed clay pots to rid my life of negative influences. Burning and smashing things is a lot of fun, and very cathartic!

Yes, I know that this isn't a new calendar year, but it is a new spiritual year. Today represents zep tepi, the first time, when everything began. And today I really feel it. I feel shiny and new, like this truly is a fresh start in my spirituality.

Di Wep Ronpet nofret! Dua Netjer!

My Wep Ronpet shrine, complete with offerings of water, dried cranberries, and six portions of bread.

The Misconception of Brighid (PBP)

Brighid is not a triple goddess.

There. I said it.

Brighid is a goddess of fire, but I think it is more fitting to say that she is the goddess of life-giving fire on Earth. This implies the more positive, helpful aspects of fire. She is a goddess of the hearth, of the fire that cooks our food, keeps us warm, and protects us. She is also a goddess of the creative aspects of fire, be it the fire of a forge, or the spark of inspiration. Lastly, she represents fire as the flame of life and healing. And this is all apt. These aspects are all attested to in the myth of the Cath Magh Tuireadh, where she is described as such: "Brigit, that was a woman of poetry, and poets worshipped her, for her sway was very great and very noble. And she was a woman of healing along with that, and a woman of smith's work, and it was she first made the whistle for calling one to another through the night."

A handful of modern Pagans cite Cormac's Glossary for the Brighid as triple goddess theory. He wrote "Brigit, i. e. a female poet, daughter of the Dagda. This Brigit is a poetess, or a woman of poetry, i. e. Brigit a goddess whom poets worshipped, for very great and very noble was her superintendence. Therefore they call her goddess of poets by this name. Whose sisters were Brigit, woman of healing, Brigit, woman of smith-work, i. e. goddesses, from whose names with all lrishmen Brigit was called a goddess. Brigit then, i. e. brco-saigit, a fiery arrow."

If we take this definition literally, the problem with it is that she is clearly defined as one three separate individuals, and thus the triple goddess idea has no merit there. What furthers this problem is the fact that these sisters are never mentioned in Brighid's genealogy (her sisters are often identified as Eire, Podia, Banba, and Eado), and the same is true for Dadga, who only has one Brighid as a daughter. If we read into this definition an a more figurative sense, that still doesn't solve the issue. It leads me to think that, if anything, this was Cormac's metaphor for the many talents and spheres of influence Brighid has. And again, this triple goddess Brighid notion is not attested to in any of the myths, which leads me to believe that good ol' Cormac's definition was something of a fluke.

I think that it is because of Brighid's broad range of aspects that modern Pagans and Wiccans tend to refer to her as a triple goddess, despite the fact that the idea of a triple goddess did not exist in ancient Ireland, and, as I have said, nowhere in myth is Brighid referred to as such. Yes, the argument can be made that Brighid as triple goddess is merely a modern interpretation of her, but I would say that she is such an amazing goddess as she is, there is no reason to try to redefine her, or make her into something that she is not. Aside from being inaccurate, I feel that giving Brighid the title of triple goddess is an oversimplification. Why can't she be one whole being who encompasses the ideas of poetry, healing, and smithing/creation? Why must Pagans separate these aspects of her? Doing so only diminishes her.

Pagan Blog Project

Papyrus Painting - Sekhmet

This is my latest bit of artwork, a picture of Sekhmet that I painted for my beau. I don't think her face turned out quite right (a lioness head was harder than I thought it would be!), but I'm confident that I'll get it next time. Other than that, I'm very happy with it.

Dua Sekhmet!

Sekhmet, the Red Lady