Monday, July 25, 2011
Mundania
I've been absolutely absorbed in a job search for the past two months - and I'm pleased to say that today I started my new day job!! Now that the majority of my strain over the efforts to support myself have been alleviated, I look forward to exploring this new connection with the everyday world and its mysteries. I also look forward to sharing my explorations and musings with you again.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
The (False) Dichotomy
Science, Sacred, Spiritual
Well, this article says exactly what I've known since being taught by nuns in Catholic school. Science and faith do not contradict each other. If anything, I think they enhance each other.
Well, this article says exactly what I've known since being taught by nuns in Catholic school. Science and faith do not contradict each other. If anything, I think they enhance each other.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Today's Special Guest - Andrew Bellile
Musings From the Fire
I spent the evening thinking of you
You call me beloved
And my thoughts turn to You
And return
And turn again
Adulterous soul
Gaze into the eyes of your beloved
Do not shrink away from His love
Your bride price is extravagant
Though He pays it with abandon
What cost justice
What price freedom
What is due for your healing
To cleans away your filth
The wages of the tailor
For your raiment
Your bridal gown
His crown
Loss of position, status
Every moment of communion
Betrayal of a friend
Humiliation
Agony and humiliation
Every drop of His precious blood
Death
Your Husband paid all this and more
To save you for Himself
To purchase an unwilling bride
A shame-filled harlot
Who loves her filth
Like Him there is no shadow
Of turning in you
Repent
Repent and seek His strong arms
His nail scared hands
Protector, lover, friend
Husband
King
(c) 2011 Andrew Bellile
I spent the evening thinking of you
You call me beloved
And my thoughts turn to You
And return
And turn again
Adulterous soul
Gaze into the eyes of your beloved
Do not shrink away from His love
Your bride price is extravagant
Though He pays it with abandon
What cost justice
What price freedom
What is due for your healing
To cleans away your filth
The wages of the tailor
For your raiment
Your bridal gown
His crown
Loss of position, status
Every moment of communion
Betrayal of a friend
Humiliation
Agony and humiliation
Every drop of His precious blood
Death
Your Husband paid all this and more
To save you for Himself
To purchase an unwilling bride
A shame-filled harlot
Who loves her filth
Like Him there is no shadow
Of turning in you
Repent
Repent and seek His strong arms
His nail scared hands
Protector, lover, friend
Husband
King
(c) 2011 Andrew Bellile
Friday, June 17, 2011
"...The Rest Is Silence."
Thank you, Mr. Shakespeare. There seems to be no occasion for which you do not have the words.
Everyone I know of wants answers of one kind or another. What does life mean? Does he love me? What is your quest? What is your favorite color? (Thank you, too, Monty Python.) We go everywhere for these answers - outer space, the bottom of the ocean, deep inside our own genetic material, our friends, books, the Internet, family... everywhere.
Sometimes we turn to our gods.
There has always been (and, I suspect, will always be) endless discussion about who and what The Divine is, and where we can find it. Conventional wisdom divides the issue rather neatly. The common view is that the monotheistic religions, along with certain Eastern paths such as Buddhism, are transcendent religions. God/the Tao is out there, at a distance - perhaps concerned with our personal actions (perhaps not), and sending wisdom and salvation and enlightenment down from above, often through a chosen vehicle for received knowedge.
The poyltheistic/animistic religions are seen as immanent religions. The Divine is in us and all around us - every single thing partakes in the essence of the Gods, and we can experience it in our daily lives. I am Goddess. You are God. The trees outside are Divine. So is the highway that runs by my window. Enlightenment is there to be found by any who seek, and no one can see a a better path to reunion with Divinity better than the person walking the path.
I think that this division is simplistic. After all, the Big Three Monotheistic Religions all have mystic traditions, the very essence of which is that one person experiences their connection to the Divine directly and personally. The Christians have St. Teresa and other mystics, the Jews have the Kabbalah, and the Moslems have the Sufi. Many neo-Pagans, Wiccans, Witches, Druids, and other polytheists feel that there is something more than just everything together. Many traditions invoke specific Goddesses and Gods, asking to receive wisdom through vision and revelation. Most spiritual people experience a little bit of both relationships.
What is prayer, or spellwork, or meditation, or divination, or contemplation other than a way of personally meeting the God or Goddess, as we see it? Is that not how we as frail, isolated mortals reach for Divinity? Aren't we waiting for an answer, or a hint that yes, we are heard and loved? So very often we feel that answer. We hear that voice. We are given a sign. But not always.
Sometimes there is silence.
It's easy to feel abandoned in the silence, especially when we are used to feeling and seeing and hearing the creative force of the universe. We tend to wonder why we aren't being answered, why our prayers or spells aren't working.
We forget that silence is part of the Divine, too.
Our part of the Divine.
When we experience Silence, our conception of God or Goddess fades away, and we are left with what we know. With ourselves. With the truest, deepest connection possible. We are left with what the transcendence of Divinity has given us - with what the immanence of Divinity receives from us.
What do you know when you are Silent?
Everyone I know of wants answers of one kind or another. What does life mean? Does he love me? What is your quest? What is your favorite color? (Thank you, too, Monty Python.) We go everywhere for these answers - outer space, the bottom of the ocean, deep inside our own genetic material, our friends, books, the Internet, family... everywhere.
Sometimes we turn to our gods.
There has always been (and, I suspect, will always be) endless discussion about who and what The Divine is, and where we can find it. Conventional wisdom divides the issue rather neatly. The common view is that the monotheistic religions, along with certain Eastern paths such as Buddhism, are transcendent religions. God/the Tao is out there, at a distance - perhaps concerned with our personal actions (perhaps not), and sending wisdom and salvation and enlightenment down from above, often through a chosen vehicle for received knowedge.
The poyltheistic/animistic religions are seen as immanent religions. The Divine is in us and all around us - every single thing partakes in the essence of the Gods, and we can experience it in our daily lives. I am Goddess. You are God. The trees outside are Divine. So is the highway that runs by my window. Enlightenment is there to be found by any who seek, and no one can see a a better path to reunion with Divinity better than the person walking the path.
I think that this division is simplistic. After all, the Big Three Monotheistic Religions all have mystic traditions, the very essence of which is that one person experiences their connection to the Divine directly and personally. The Christians have St. Teresa and other mystics, the Jews have the Kabbalah, and the Moslems have the Sufi. Many neo-Pagans, Wiccans, Witches, Druids, and other polytheists feel that there is something more than just everything together. Many traditions invoke specific Goddesses and Gods, asking to receive wisdom through vision and revelation. Most spiritual people experience a little bit of both relationships.
What is prayer, or spellwork, or meditation, or divination, or contemplation other than a way of personally meeting the God or Goddess, as we see it? Is that not how we as frail, isolated mortals reach for Divinity? Aren't we waiting for an answer, or a hint that yes, we are heard and loved? So very often we feel that answer. We hear that voice. We are given a sign. But not always.
Sometimes there is silence.
It's easy to feel abandoned in the silence, especially when we are used to feeling and seeing and hearing the creative force of the universe. We tend to wonder why we aren't being answered, why our prayers or spells aren't working.
We forget that silence is part of the Divine, too.
Our part of the Divine.
When we experience Silence, our conception of God or Goddess fades away, and we are left with what we know. With ourselves. With the truest, deepest connection possible. We are left with what the transcendence of Divinity has given us - with what the immanence of Divinity receives from us.
What do you know when you are Silent?
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Travelling in the Moment
For those who don't know, I belong to a group that researches and recreates the Middle Ages and Renaissance. (That's not very many of you, but there are a few.) While it doesn't actually have anything to do directly with my Witchy little path, it has given me much meditation fodder. I recently came across some thoughts that occurred to me last December, traveling to Milwaukee for one our events with a friend, which seem to perfectly express something that has been on my mind lately.
We were talking about why we like to travel slowly, on back roads. (Seriously. If we have time to ignore an interstate, we will stretch that three hour drive into seven, with many stops.) It seems to me that too many people ignore the journey. After all, the tractor crossing signs are not something you see on an interstate. We traveled through a cut that had recently been widened - the original toolmarks were still visible in many places, but the rock faces were a glorious, deep burnt orange - raw and new. Nothing like the smooth gray and green we usually see. In fact, the whole drive was beautiful - and an integral part of the weekend. The trip was just as much a part of the event as the actual event.
Oh, sometimes time is a constraint. When work or other obligations aren't flexible, the quickest direct route is often necessary. Sometimes you're racing a tornado home (ooh - that could be a fun video game idea!). Sometimes there's an illness or injury or other pressing reason why you just need to get to where you're going. But not always.
Sometimes crappy and annoying things happen, and they ruin an entire trip because they slow us down, or make us work a little more. But not always. And what if those annoyances and delays and irritations have something to offer us?
I really feel that we, as a society, tend to discount or outright dislike travel. Oh, it's important, and we have to do it, but it doesn't really count. How much of our lives do we brush aside because we were "just" getting ready for work, or going out, or the next big thing? How much time do we trivialize because we were "only" en route? And then, once we're at a destination, or into the big thing, how much of it do we really experience? So often the end result is all we value.
Why does the travelling, the process of getting there, get such a bad rap? Couldn't (indeed, shouldn't) the moment be sufficient unto itself? How can I live my life in a way that gives value to each experience for its own sake? Each moment is a gift of the Divine, given to me once. Surely it is the height (depth?) of ingratitude to rush through something because it's nothing but a stepping stone to something else. The essence of mindfulness, in my understanding, is to treat each moment as a numinous, sacred ritual - a prayer in its entirety.
What if one enters what one is doing for its own sake?
What if the journey is as important (or sometimes more important) than the destination?
What if the point of the drive is the drive?
What kind of difference could that make to us?
We were talking about why we like to travel slowly, on back roads. (Seriously. If we have time to ignore an interstate, we will stretch that three hour drive into seven, with many stops.) It seems to me that too many people ignore the journey. After all, the tractor crossing signs are not something you see on an interstate. We traveled through a cut that had recently been widened - the original toolmarks were still visible in many places, but the rock faces were a glorious, deep burnt orange - raw and new. Nothing like the smooth gray and green we usually see. In fact, the whole drive was beautiful - and an integral part of the weekend. The trip was just as much a part of the event as the actual event.
Oh, sometimes time is a constraint. When work or other obligations aren't flexible, the quickest direct route is often necessary. Sometimes you're racing a tornado home (ooh - that could be a fun video game idea!). Sometimes there's an illness or injury or other pressing reason why you just need to get to where you're going. But not always.
Sometimes crappy and annoying things happen, and they ruin an entire trip because they slow us down, or make us work a little more. But not always. And what if those annoyances and delays and irritations have something to offer us?
I really feel that we, as a society, tend to discount or outright dislike travel. Oh, it's important, and we have to do it, but it doesn't really count. How much of our lives do we brush aside because we were "just" getting ready for work, or going out, or the next big thing? How much time do we trivialize because we were "only" en route? And then, once we're at a destination, or into the big thing, how much of it do we really experience? So often the end result is all we value.
Why does the travelling, the process of getting there, get such a bad rap? Couldn't (indeed, shouldn't) the moment be sufficient unto itself? How can I live my life in a way that gives value to each experience for its own sake? Each moment is a gift of the Divine, given to me once. Surely it is the height (depth?) of ingratitude to rush through something because it's nothing but a stepping stone to something else. The essence of mindfulness, in my understanding, is to treat each moment as a numinous, sacred ritual - a prayer in its entirety.
What if one enters what one is doing for its own sake?
What if the journey is as important (or sometimes more important) than the destination?
What if the point of the drive is the drive?
What kind of difference could that make to us?
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Some Wonderful Thoughts.
One of the blogs I follow is Know Thyself, by T. Thorn Coyle. If you'd like a fantastic exploration of what paganism and spirituality and other paths have to do with each other, this is a great start:
Paganism: Some Questions
Check out some of her other stuff, too - I've found this to be a great site for triggering further explorations of my own.
Paganism: Some Questions
Check out some of her other stuff, too - I've found this to be a great site for triggering further explorations of my own.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Openness
It's been quite a while - funny how life likes its own way sometimes, isn't it? When I go through these gaps in my writing, or my exercising, or my housework, or my practice, or any other thing along my Witchy little path, I always think to myself, "Why?" These are all important to me - they give me pleasure (or at least some type of satisfaction), and it serves a purpose in my life. Why do I just slip sometimes?
Well, first off is complacency. You know - you're cruising along, doing well at something, making a good habit that you're feeling good about. And then, for a perfectly valid reason, you take a day off. You're ill. Something truly unexpected and/or urgent comes up. The weather is throwing wind and rain and occasional debris at you. It's one day. You've got this! You can get right back into it after one day, no problem. And this is true. You can. But... do you always?
No. Because the internal judge starts mouthing off, and you make yourself feel bad about "failing." As 8,000 books, columns, blog, and speakers have told us, each one of us tends to be his or her own harshest judge. Man, that feels like crap. The more you yell at yourself and put yourself down, the more resistance you build within yourself. As you approach (insert desired action here), the more you have to fight yourself to do it. Your stomach knots up. Your muscles clench. You get that achy feeling in your head. You can feel your blood pressure rising, and, if you asked them, your veins and arteries would be trying either close right up or explode. In fact, you can work yourself into a full blown illness (and I'm only thinking physical here - I'm not even touching the wacked out mental and emotional effects you can produce. Nor will I. See someone for that.) with symptoms and everything. So, you know, it's easier and easier to justify not doing what you really, truly, deeply, madly (no! not that song!) wanted to do, and you feel better. Until you start to feel even worse about blowing off something you know you have to do.
Yeah, this is an extreme description, but most of us have been that far at least once. (If you haven't, don't judge. No, seriously. Don't waste your time. We'll all do that for ourselves much more thoroughly than you could ever manage. Trust us. We're experts.) But how do I keep that from becoming a habit? How do you? (Seriously - I'm always open for more tips. How do you?)
I've talked about grounding, centering, and shielding, and some of their uses.This is another one. These techniques aren't the only things available, either. One of the easiest is prayer. Yeah, I said it. Call it devotions, or mindfulness, or energy work, or tapping into the universal consciousness, or the Eightfold Path, or whatever you want. Trust me. It all comes down to the same thing. You are opening yourself to something more than just yourself. Sometimes you're sharing this with other people, sometimes you're not.
It doesn't have to be complicated. It can be. It... what's that? You only know one way to pray? (You didn't have nuns around when you were going to grade school, did you?) I do the centering and grounding and shielding, and then I just open my senses. (All of them. Even the ones most people don't count.) I feel my connection with whatever is near me, or whoever is near me. (No, this doesn't negate the shielding. I'm open, not stupid.) I draw strength from the earth and the sky. Sometimes I connect with a particular Goddess or God - sometimes I don't. If I have a specific need, I voice it. (Sometimes there's a whole ritual with candles, and specific colors, and incense involved. Sometimes not.) Many times, I'm just resting in that connection. Sometimes I'll use particular readings or verses. Sometimes I'll make something up. Sometimes I'll sing. Sometimes I'll shut the hell up. I take just a few seconds when I'm awake, or about to eat, and just feel my joy in my life. Sometimes I decide I really need to talk to someone. Usually it's a friend. Sometimes it isn't. Sometimes I read runes or Tarot cards. Sometimes I don't need a recognizable answer.
You don't believe in a god? So what? You believe in something. (Every atheist I know believes in something. Just not a god.) Is there a better time to tap into your intuition, or the collective unconscious, or hit the treadmill until the endorphins kick in? Trust me again. The effect is the same.
We aren't just thinking about our own small piece of the world. We become more than what we are. We learn about each other, and the world, and ourselves. Compassion is easier. Love flows more freely. Generosity grows. Forgiveness happens. Hope lives on.
Well, first off is complacency. You know - you're cruising along, doing well at something, making a good habit that you're feeling good about. And then, for a perfectly valid reason, you take a day off. You're ill. Something truly unexpected and/or urgent comes up. The weather is throwing wind and rain and occasional debris at you. It's one day. You've got this! You can get right back into it after one day, no problem. And this is true. You can. But... do you always?
No. Because the internal judge starts mouthing off, and you make yourself feel bad about "failing." As 8,000 books, columns, blog, and speakers have told us, each one of us tends to be his or her own harshest judge. Man, that feels like crap. The more you yell at yourself and put yourself down, the more resistance you build within yourself. As you approach (insert desired action here), the more you have to fight yourself to do it. Your stomach knots up. Your muscles clench. You get that achy feeling in your head. You can feel your blood pressure rising, and, if you asked them, your veins and arteries would be trying either close right up or explode. In fact, you can work yourself into a full blown illness (and I'm only thinking physical here - I'm not even touching the wacked out mental and emotional effects you can produce. Nor will I. See someone for that.) with symptoms and everything. So, you know, it's easier and easier to justify not doing what you really, truly, deeply, madly (no! not that song!) wanted to do, and you feel better. Until you start to feel even worse about blowing off something you know you have to do.
Yeah, this is an extreme description, but most of us have been that far at least once. (If you haven't, don't judge. No, seriously. Don't waste your time. We'll all do that for ourselves much more thoroughly than you could ever manage. Trust us. We're experts.) But how do I keep that from becoming a habit? How do you? (Seriously - I'm always open for more tips. How do you?)
I've talked about grounding, centering, and shielding, and some of their uses.This is another one. These techniques aren't the only things available, either. One of the easiest is prayer. Yeah, I said it. Call it devotions, or mindfulness, or energy work, or tapping into the universal consciousness, or the Eightfold Path, or whatever you want. Trust me. It all comes down to the same thing. You are opening yourself to something more than just yourself. Sometimes you're sharing this with other people, sometimes you're not.
It doesn't have to be complicated. It can be. It... what's that? You only know one way to pray? (You didn't have nuns around when you were going to grade school, did you?) I do the centering and grounding and shielding, and then I just open my senses. (All of them. Even the ones most people don't count.) I feel my connection with whatever is near me, or whoever is near me. (No, this doesn't negate the shielding. I'm open, not stupid.) I draw strength from the earth and the sky. Sometimes I connect with a particular Goddess or God - sometimes I don't. If I have a specific need, I voice it. (Sometimes there's a whole ritual with candles, and specific colors, and incense involved. Sometimes not.) Many times, I'm just resting in that connection. Sometimes I'll use particular readings or verses. Sometimes I'll make something up. Sometimes I'll sing. Sometimes I'll shut the hell up. I take just a few seconds when I'm awake, or about to eat, and just feel my joy in my life. Sometimes I decide I really need to talk to someone. Usually it's a friend. Sometimes it isn't. Sometimes I read runes or Tarot cards. Sometimes I don't need a recognizable answer.
You don't believe in a god? So what? You believe in something. (Every atheist I know believes in something. Just not a god.) Is there a better time to tap into your intuition, or the collective unconscious, or hit the treadmill until the endorphins kick in? Trust me again. The effect is the same.
We aren't just thinking about our own small piece of the world. We become more than what we are. We learn about each other, and the world, and ourselves. Compassion is easier. Love flows more freely. Generosity grows. Forgiveness happens. Hope lives on.
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