Are the Myths Real?

This is a question that pops up on Pagan forums and FB groups every now and then. I have seen it asked often enough that it inspired me to write this in response. However, before I can go on to answer this question, we first have to ask ourselves a slightly different one, and it is this: "Are the myths literal?"

The answer to which is a resounding "No." I do not believe for one moment that giant, one-eyed fomoire ran around Ireland battling the Tuatha Dé Danann, nor that a goddess in the night sky actually eats the sun every night and gives birth to it every morning. I do not think that treating the myths as literal is a legitimate means of validating them or our beliefs. In fact, I would go so far as to say that doing so can be outright harmful. One glance a creationist fundamentalist ought to be enough to tell you why.

"So if the myths aren't literal, then they're not real, right?"

Again, my answer would have to be "No."

"But Kaif, if they aren't literal, how can they be real?"

To help illustrate my point, I will take an example from one of my favorite new shows, "Vikings."

And before I continue, here is the obligatory

*SPOILER ALERT!!!*

Lagertha the Awesome

In "Vikings" there's this really awesome chick named Lagertha. In the first season, her husband becomes earl and, while out viking, leaves her to take care of their land. It is during this time that a man brings his wife and her baby boy before Lagertha, claiming that she has been unfaithful and that the baby is not his. He says that a young man named Rig had been staying with them at the time she conceived, and since he had so far been unable to impregnate his wife, it must have been the doing of this young stranger. The wife concedes that since the three of them shared a single bed, she couldn't say for certain which man had, in the dark of night, had sex with her.

In answer to this story, Lagertha explains that Rig is a name used by Heimdall in is travels, and that the couple were in fact visited by this god who then saw fit to gift them with a child. It is the myths she cites as the source of this knowledge.

"But those are just stories!" the man protests.

To which Lagertha responds, without missing a beat, "Our lives are just stories!"

Lagertha herself was pregnant at the time, and had much trouble conceiving her own child. Because of this, it could be argued that she didn't really believe what she said about the young man being Heimdall, that she only said it for the benefit of the wife and baby. But whether or not she believed her own words is beside the point. The fact of the matter is that this couple had been trying unsuccessfully for years to have a child, and now they have one. In a sense, all Lagertha was doing was telling this man to shut up and be grateful for the opportunity to finally be a father.

This is why Lagertha's assertion that "our lives are just stories" is so perfect. At that moment, the couple's story is that they have a child. Yet it is the story of the child's divine paternity that, even if not literally true, serves to highlight the reality that this previously childless couple now have a precious baby that needs to be taken care of, regardless of who actually sired him.

Myths are allegories, entertainment, lessons, and hyperbole, just like many of the stories we tell of ourselves, or the stories that will be told of us when we die. The myths themselves may not be literal, yet that doesn't make them untrue. The Cath Maighe Tuireadh illustrates the nature of the Déithe; Nut's birthing and consumption of the sun is a metaphor for day and night; the conflict between Ba'al and Mot are the cycles of rainfall and drought; the list of examples is endless.

So there you have my answer. The myths are just stories. Our lives are just stories. One is every bit as real as the other.

Moon Ritual

As a followup to my sun ritual, I want to share with you a moon ritual as well. Because of my Irish Celtic focus, I always sing the following song for Boann, but it can work for any lunar goddess, such as Selene.

Simply go out into the light of the moon (a full one is most appropriate, I think!), light some incense and a candle, sing, and pray.

Welcome to you,

Jewel of the night!

Beauty of the heavens,

Jewel of the night!

Mother of the stars,

Jewel of the night!

Fosterling of the sun,

Jewel of the night!

Majesty of the stars,

Jewel of the night!
Jewel of the night!

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.

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!

Welcome, Sun of the Season

I've always enjoyed the dark, cold beauty of winter, and as such, I think I fare these short days better than most. All the same, I, like everyone else, look forward to the winter solstice this time of year. It feels like ages since the sun began setting before 5 p.m., even though I know it has only been a month or so. (Thanks for nothing, daylight savings!) The constant short nights make me feel tired and lazy, like a fat, hibernating bear. And while I can cope well enough with the frigid temperatures, they can begin to wear on anyone after a while.

I also know that the winter has only just begun, and that despite the sun's waxing light, there is much more of it left. But I'm a native to this land; the winter is in my blood. I'll continue through the season by enjoying the serene beauty of each snowfall, by drinking gallons of hot chocolate, and by bundling up at night under half a dozen blankets with my kitty. The winter can be unforgiving, and you have to find it's joys wherever you can.

This winter solstice, I will wake up bright and early, sing a song to the sun, and thank it for it's gradual return. I'll take comfort in the fact that the cycle goes on, that in a few months it will be spring.

Holiday Season

Happy Halloween!  Run amok and eat candy until you puke!

And happy Samhain, Pomonalia, and Día de los Muertos to boot!

Celebrate life and death, remember where we came from and where we are going.  Honor those who came before, and keep in mind that we all end up taking that final journey....