Playlist: My Favorite Songs, Ever

“Walk The Line” – Johnny Cash
“All Along The Watchtower” – Jimi Hendrix Experience
“L.A. Woman” – The Doors
“As Time Goes By” – Jimmy Durante
“Take On Me” – A-Ha
“Holy Diver” – Dio
“Stairway To Heaven” – Led Zeppelin
“The Number Of The Beast” – Iron Maiden
“Love Will Tear Us Apart” – Joy Division
“Wish You Were Here” – Pink Floyd
“Have You Ever Seen The Rain” – Creedence Clearwater Revival
“Let It Be” – The Beatles
“A Few Hours After This” – The Cure
“Battle Against Time” – Wintersun

Struggling With Samhainn

I have decided to celebrate Samhainn–opening my year as a Druid Apprentice–with a rite honoring Demeter, Persephone, and Hades. It seems appropriate since not only is Samhainn traditionally a time to celebrate the dead, when the gates of the underworlds are thrown open and the boundaries between the worlds of the living and the dead are thinner, but it is also a celebration of the harvest (the final harvest!). And coincidentally, it also can be conceptualized as the threshold between fall and winter, which in Greek Mythology is the time when Persephone leaves her mother Demeter and goes to reign in the underworld with her husband, Hades. Demeter’s grief at the loss of her daughter inaugurates winter, when plants turn brown and die and the earth goes cold, and it stays that way until Persephone returns in the spring, bringing with her the rebirth of the living world.

Unfortunately one of my main resources for prayers honoring the Hellenic gods is now lost for all time thanks to the death of Geocities, so I don’t really have a prayer honoring Hades, and I am having a hard time writing one. I’m sure this bottle of Jaegermeister next to me isn’t helping, but I just don’t know enough about Hades to write a decent prayer to him.
So I’m stuck, and cranky. And tipsy, I guess. I think I’m going to play video games online with my brother and worry about this tomorrow. Of course, the problem with that attitude is that I plan on celebrating Samhainn on Sunday, and Sunday keeps getting closer. I mean, if all else fails, I guess I can always just come up with a sort of impromptu invocation, and that’s probably what nI’m going to wind up doing. So the whole thing isn’t foiled; I’m just feeling irritatingly uncreative. Maybe I should try to pray to Hades before Sunday, and ask for a bit of his dread underworld inspiration. I mean, if anyone knows how Hades wants to be honored, it would probably be Hades, right?

I do have a lot of other cool stuff planned for the holiday, but this rite is sort of supposed to be the fulcrum of the whole thing, and celebrating the Wheel of the Year is supposed to be a part of my AODA First-Degree Druid curriculum, so it is kind of important to me.

On the other hand, I did manage to be creative to write a New Eleusinian Mystery Rite. It’s fairly awesome, and contains the secrets of life, death, and immortality, but I don’t know anyone who I can initiate who can then turn around and initiate me. And what’s the point of having initiatory mysteries that nobody gets initiated into? And it’s not really the kind of thing you can initiate yourself into, either.

May The Libations Resume

Sponde!, an excellent and user-friendly introduction to Hellenic polytheism as a living faith, is back online again at a new site. If you are interested in a hands-on approach to the gods and goddesses of ancient Hellas, it is an excellent first step. It has my stamp of approval, for what its worth, and I have duly updated my links page.

Planting Spinach Of The SOUL

The other day, my little boy brought me a clay pot that he had planted a seed in awhile ago and he was concerned that nothing had ever grown in it (it had, but unfortunately we have a mischievous cat that likes to pick at and eat young growing things). I realized that we had a bunch of pots and seeds that we had never used, so he and I decided to just go ahead and plant everything.

So we took down a handful of red clay pots, got out our half-full bag of potting mix, and our packets of seeds, and just kind of started planting. We’re moving soon, so it is not certain that these seeds are going to amount to anything–even if we manage to take them with us, they won’t necessarily survive the trip. But it was an intense reminder of how much I long to be connected to the cycles of life and death and nature and growing things.

I’m not much of a gardener, but for at least a couple of years I have had the unshakable instinct that I need to be. Something inside of me desperately craves a connection to the living world, even if I’m a big-city-lawyer. If I do not get it, I am certain that I will go insane.

It;s not practical for me (for us) to just run away to the backwoods and become self-sufficient subsistence farmers, even though I fantasize about it all the time. I have a mountain of debt from law school that’s only going to get paid off by slaving away in the Biglaw Law Mines. And I’m not unhappy about it, to be honest with you–I am fortunate in that I have found an area of the law to practice that I genuinely enjoy. But I am intensely aware that I am going to need to be connected to nature and to growing things, even as a busy urban professional.

I have big dreams for our new place in Chicago–I’ve been poring over my book (a christmas gift last year from my beautiful and sexy wife) The Urban Homestead: Your Guide to Self-sufficient Living in the Heart of the City and getting all kinds of ideas for projects, depending on how much space and how much access we have to the outside we wind up having when we get to Chicago. But I can’t wait that long: even if planting now is a fool’s errand, it was something I had to do (and it was an awesomely fun way to spend the morning with my three-year-old as well). So we have pots of spinach, rosemary, and sage sitting on our windowsill, where the little monster-cat hopefully can’t get at more than one of them.

We’ll see how it turns out, but in any case, this is definitely a taste of things to come.

Our Shrine To Hestia

Here’s a picture of our shrine to Hestia, the goddess of the hearth and arguably the central focus of Hellenic pagan household worship.

Yes, in case you were wondering, it’s just a tart burner from Yankee Candle. The trend in modern Hellenic polytheism, as far as I understand, is to put a shrine to Hestia in the kitchen if your home doesn’t actually have a hearth. For some homes, that might make sense, but for mine it doesn’t really, as the kitchen is not the center of our home life (it is sort of tucked-away).

My shrine is humble, not flashy. It doesn’t burn all the time like maybe it’s supposed to (tealights have kind of a short lifespan). But every morning I light it and offer a quick but sincere prayer to Hestia to honor her and to ask for light, life, love, a happy home, and a happy family, and every evening (at least when I remember) I put my hand on it–by that time, it probably isn’t burning anymore–and offer my thanks to her for those same things. It may not be orthopraxy, and I might even be accused by the particularly rigid of insufficient piety, but it feels right, and it feels good.

In our next home, I would like to have an actual hearth with a fireplace, but I imagine our shrine to Hestia there won’t actually be much different. The tart burner is a flame, after all, and one that is practical and simple to light every day (if not keep lit all the time), and the wax potpourri tart fills the home with comforting smells, helping to make it an inviting, comfortable place. We’ve talked about getting a series of tart burners, to change them out through the course of the seasons, and that would be nice. I also think I might spruce the shrine up a bit with a votive offering or two and some shrine-y decorations. But at the center will still be the tart burner, a humble reminder of the good things that home and family have to offer.

I Am Henry Sugar

In preparation for my year of Druid candidate training, I have been trying to get into the habit of meditating. So far, I’ve only been working on color breathing and training my concentration, using the suggested meditation target (from John Michael Greer’s Druidry Handbook):

The process has been fascinating and enlightening. Although I find my mind wandering behind my back, slipping away for me only to realize it a few minutes later, I’m always able to round up my thoughts and walk back along the path that took me to where I found them, and bring my conscious mind back to the Moon-target where I can simply be. I realize that the aim here is to develop concentration in preparation for discursive meditation later on (which I want to be able to begin right away with Samhainn), but the effortless effort spent being completely present to the image I am concentrating on is nevertheless very zenlike, and I find myself having the same sort of physical and mental sensations (a sort of trancelike, not-unpleasant feeling of fraying at the edges of my existence) as I did with zen meditation back when I was giving that a go.

Also, it’s amazing how good I feel after meditating–positively euphoric. Fifteen quick minutes leaves me completely energized and focused, and it goes a long way to calming the anxiety and depression that my own personal brand of crazy inflicts on me. I’m looking forward to learning and practicing discursive meditation, but I think I will ultimately want to mix in something more zenlike, and maybe explore Indian techniques like Kunalindi yoga to supplement my Western, Druidic approach.

I’m interested in exploring moving meditation, specifically trying to achieve a meditative state while running. Usually while I run I either listen to heavy metal at unsafe volumes on my headphones (which is not necessarily not conducive to a calm state of mind…) or I just let my mind completely wander, but i have an intuition that a kind of physical meditation should be workable. I’m just not necessarily sure how I would go about it.

A New Path Begins… Finally

In my last post, I hinted cryptically at something new in the works for me, spiritually speaking. The quick and dirty version is that a week from tomorrow my family will celebrate Samhainn and I will, in honor of the new year of the ancient Celts, officially begin my candidate year with the Ancient Order of Druids in America. I not only plan on pursuing the First-Degree Curriculum on my own, but actually joining the Order and becoming as active as is practical in it (although since the Order is small right now, that just might mean no more than stepping up my participation in the Yahoo group). That’s as big of a bite as I am willing to take at the moment, but I intend for it to only be a beginning. I fully intend to ultimately join and study with Ár nDraíocht Féin and the Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids within the next few years. In other words, I have decided to become a Druid (or at least a neo-Druid, which I will say for the first and last time for the benefit of the unreasonably rigid who demand that such a distinction be made).

A massive amount of thought has gone into this (you may remember that I have been toying with the idea of Druidry for an awfully long time, especially now that I have finally come to terms with my pagan identity), but despite Druidry’s constant presence in my spiritual orbit, I have been pretty much consistently unable to actually do anything with it, even to commit mentally to the idea.

Since the Hellenic gods reached out to me, I have had a kind of internal tension with traditional Hellenic polytheistic religion, i.e. Hellenismos. Belief in the reality of the gods of ancient Greece does not necessarily imply the need to worship them in the fashion of the ancient Greeks, but I have this pro-dogma reflex that I think I inherited from Mormonism. Even though I have known from the beginning that Hellenismos was not going to work for me, i have kept trying to make it work for me, and although I have made some important spiritual inroads and have developed meaningful relationships with the gods, I have never felt like “this is it; this is my spiritual identity.”

Don’t be confused here, though. I am in no sense whatsoever talking about abandoning my faith in or worship of the Hellenic gods. I have felt these gods, I have been blessed by them, I have had incredible experiences with them. These gods reached out to me, and I would say that I claim them as my gods, but it really makes more sense to say that they claimed me as their own. I will continue to worship these gods to me–the gods that are, in my experience, the real gods.

I am also not saying that I will abandon traditional Hellenic worship forms, either. It makes sense and it to worship the Greek gods in a Greek way. I also think it pleases them to be worshipped in a way that is traditional. I will continue to draw on ancient practices and forms of worship in my spiritual life as I have done for the past year. But I’m not going to stress out about “doing it right” or feel nervous, inadequate, or impious when I fail to perform my religion according human-created specifications, as ancient and valuable as they may be. Ultimately I’m concerned with what the gods think, not with what ancient Greeks would have thought, or what Hellenic polytheists on the internet think.

What I am saying here is that my religion is not “Hellenismos.” Though I worship the Hellenic gods and often do so in Hellenic ways, I will not keep trying to fit my religious life into a wrong-sized hole. My relationship with the gods is not the only component of my spirituality, and I see no reason why it should be. I believe in my gods, not in a religion.

But I am embracing Druidry because it is the only place I know of that will allow me to fully explore all of the aspects of my spirituality–Hellenic polytheism included–that cry out to be explored. The modern Druid tradition embraces absolutely everything that is important to me spiritually (except for badass muscle cars; those really just don’t fit which is too bad for Druidry, really), and provides a framework for finding or building the connections between them. And more importantly, I am embracing Druidry because I feel pain when I am cut off from the natural world, and because I feel dead inside when I am alienated from nature’s cycles. Druidry is the only spiritual path I am aware of–and I have done no small amount of looking around–that comes even close to punching all of the buttons that I need to have punched.

So here I go; into the breach. I’ve been sort of warming up, practicing meditation and the Druid grove ceremony, and I’ve been talking to my beautiful and sexy wife a bit about what I’ll be doing and what parts of it we can do together. I’m excited about this. Being willing to say “I am committed” in a spiritual context is a huge step for me, as even a quick perusal of my blog archives will show you. This is a big deal.

A Troubling Tarot Reading

Today is Thursday, which means it is my day to pray to and worship Aphrodite (though truth be told, I pray to and worship Aphrodite much more often than just on Thursdays). Today I spent time meditating on the birth of the goddess, and then I offered my typical prayers, hymns, and offerings. When I was finished, it occured to me to do a tarot reading about my relationship with the goddess, so I sat down with my cards, I invoked Apollo as the god of oracles and prophecy, and I asked for the cards to reveal to me the nature of my relationship with the goddess, past, present, and future. This was the spread I laid out:

(In case those links ever expire, those are the Ten of Cups reversed, the Page of Wands reversed, and the Nine of Swords).

Honestly, I’m not sure what to make of it. The first card, the reversed Ten of Cups, makes sense. After my initial contact with the goddess, which blew me away and filled me with warmth, light, and love, my continued spiritual floundering has left the fulness of spiritual joy represented by the Ten of Cups, that I feel can be available to me through Aphrodite, has been truncated and stunted. My own hemming and hawing, whatever my reasons, has kept me from having the joy in the goddess that I might otherwise have had. Nothing odd or unexpected there.

Its the reversed Page of Wands and the Nine of Swords that have me troubled. The Page came up ecently in an extremely important reading I did for myself, and at the moment I am sort of getting ready to embark on a path of (spiritual) action: a very definite journey of spiritual work that I think the Page represents. So why is he reversed? Am I doing something wrong?

And the Nine of Swords? What does that mean? That my Page-of-Wands journey is ill-considered and abortive and will lead to regret and hearbreak, at least as far as the goddess is concerned? Or is the whole thing a warning? Could it not be saying that my present quest is in fact corrupted and askew, but that if I do embark on it like I have planned, but then I let it fall by the wayside, if I am lazy about it, then it will end in sorrow and tragedy, and a possible loss of relationship with the goddess altogether?

In other words (because I know I am being cryptic and confusing), is the reading telling me something definite or conditonal? Is it warning me that my present course is distorted and cowardly, and will result in anguish, or is it warning me that if I veer from my present course–reverse the Quest, in other words–that it will lead to anguish? It seems a bit vague about something that is kind of important.

No Argument From Me

My Little Boy: “Mommy, I have to wash my hand.”

My Beautiful And Sexy Wife: “Why?”

My Little Boy: “Because I peed all over it.”

Sleep Safely Tonight

America has been made safer today thanks to the valiant efforts of the Transportation Safety Officers at LAX airport. It turns out that today’s permutation of the ever-changing FAA security regulations say that liquids have to be in containers holding 3.4 ounces or less. In an obvious evil plot, I tried to openly carry on a bottle of Aqua Velva in my transparent ziploc bag of personal hygeine liquids that measured an insidious 3.5 ounces.

I was generously offered the option to check my bag instead (which now costs $20 per bag) but I told him to “just fucking throw it away.” Apparently that’s not an option though, and he had to test it first, before he would give me back my stuff.

The best part though was how my belt was in the same tray as my bag of liquids. When I reached for it, the man actually grabbed it out of my hands and took it from me. I was flabbergasted. So I had to just stand there with my pants falling down, bereft of dignity, while this Real American Hero tested my frighteningly 0.1-ounce-oversize bottle of aftershave that I was not going to be able to take on the plane anyway, to make sure it was not a bottle of Liquid Evil.

When he finally came back to give me my other safely-3.4-ounce-or-less liquids and my belt, I gave him a “way to keep America safe from Aqua Velva” salute, put on my belt, and went on my way, feeling pissed off and helpless.

This is not security; this is security theater. This does not in any way make us safer; it just makes us irritable and late for our planes.

Fuck Congress. Fuck the FAA. Fuck the assholes who work for the TSA. Fuck the cowardly terrorist pieces of shit who make this kind of bullshit possible. And fuck each and every one of us for being so completely fucking spineless that we’re willing to trade our dignity so we can pretend we’re somehow safer.