Wonderfully, Amazingly Pagan

Photo by lica20/deviantart.com

I love the phrase " Relentlessly Gay" and I want to personally thank the homophobic nitwit who recently introduced it into our modern lexicon through their hateful note stuck on a neighbor's door because she decorated her yard with a string of lights and colored jars. (Didn't exactly go as planned, did it?) This Ally thinks the whole thing is a hoot. Thanks for the chuckle.

During the social period after yesterday's Summer Solstice ritual, when we were taking advantage of the longest day relaxing around the remains of our bonfire (a real bonefire, mind you, because someone thoughtfully brought a few bones to toss into the flames), someone came up with the idea that we needed a snappy phrase to describe ourselves because "relentlessly gay" only covers a few of us.  Since "Wild,Wonderful" is already taken by our neighboring state of West Virginia, we bounced a few phrases-mostly lame-back and forth. Someone came up with " Wonderfully, Amazingly Pagan"...close enough for me.

I am hard pressed to describe myself nowadays. I incorporate a lot of things into my version of being Pagan. I have developed a big bent toward Buddhist philosophy in the last few years. I'm using a lot more techniques from folk magic/medicine. I am a both a kitchen witch and a hedge witch . My solitary rituals are sometimes loose, spontaneous and less structured. I am more at ease leading ritual in a group setting  than I ever have been ( encouraged by the small cluster I occasionally join). I am still very much Wiccan because that's where I started on this path, but no longer rigidly bound to any particular tradition. I am not particularly attached to 'witchy' jargon other than for the sake of clarity.

I believe there is a point when we simply become "Wonderfully, Amazingly Pagan": it's the moment of realization that we are no longer bound by the constructs of our former religion; when we are comfortable in our spiritual development to work outside of an established Craft Tradition; when we transcend the limitations we place on ourselves and become cognizant of being that small speck in the Universe. 

The discoveries and mistakes we make along the way are frequent and many. We try to fit our new spirituality into the skin of our old one and find we are altogether another animal. It's starling and scary to see the old skin peel away. We loose the identity and comfort of it. Until we slowly develop this new Pagan self hood, we are sometimes distressed by the spiritual free-fall until we land someplace in the journey where we are satisfied and not fixated on a destination. It's difficult to adapt to new ideas; one a lot of people have a problem casting off is the concept of original sin,which  does not exist in paganism. The personal implications associated with this moral time bomb are disarmed by Pagan theologies; the realization is truly an awakening to a new life. You are no longer held to the rules of a tradition you are no longer a part of.

But...When bad things happen to other people, we do need to speak up. As Pagans are still considered a minority religion. We are certainly not in the mainstream, even though we're making great strides toward being accepted. When things happen to other minority groups, we need to speak up to show our support. Many of us, like myself, are LBGT-Q allies.Working toward equality for everyone makes our relationships and society stronger. Remember the story about how when the Nazis were overtaking one group of people after the other much of the world stood by in silence and watched until those who were left realized there was no one to speak up for them? It's still like that in the world today. If we stand silently and allow intolerance and bigotry to just go by, chances are there will be no one else to speak up when we are the target of discrimination. Pagans should be active in their community, not just in Pagan-sponsored activities. Showing you care-letting others get to know you first- is a good way to build a solid foundation prior announcing your religious affiliation.

Just as we are unique in our individual personalities, not all Pagan Traditions are alike-but you knew that, didn't you? Don't we all know this? Then why do we continue to have pissing contests over who's a 'real' Pagan and who's not? I don't want to put energy into this argument because it's absurd. Each of us have a relationship to the gods that is uniquely ours alone and we choose to integrate being Pagan into our lives as we see fit. It's not a contest. We should be helping one another on the journey and not be competing against one another. This is not the Pagan Olympics and no one is handling out metals. There are a lot of people out there who are not like you, and a few who will not be to your liking. Most of the time we can agree to disagree and still be civil. I am Pagan enough, thanks, and so are you.

And please, please, stop believing everything you read about how Pagans should act, believe, look like, etc.There are some 'must have' books and some really awful ones on the shelves. Trial and error will teach you which is which and which ones are beneficial to your spiritual development.  (Admittedly some of the really crappy ones are fun to read!) Apply this general rule even more to things you find on the Internet. While it's true that Paganism has no central authority and no one is monitoring information  we still share a few core beliefs and have some moral standards in common.
While you are certainly free to believe whatever you desire because that is your prerogative, whether you should is another discussion. You know that little voice in the back of your head? Listen to it.

Like everything else, you get out of being Pagan what you put into it. If you don't study and practice, you'll get nothing out of it. Paganism (and Witchcraft even more) is an experiential form of spirituality. You cannot will knowledge to wash over you like rain. You may call yourself anything you like, but standing in a circle with twelve other naked people under a full moon doesn't not necessarily make you a Pagan. Dressing in all black clothing and wearing pentagrams dangling from every appendage will not make you a Pagan. Teachers will not be knocking on your door begging you to become their student; you will have to put a lot of thought into what you want to get out of being Pagan, and when your head stops spinning and you have a vague idea of that, then you will have to search out a teacher-be that an actual individual, a group or author.

My most effective teacher is not a sage adept practitioner of the mystical arts; it has not been the author of any book. My most effective teacher has been me. I still believe that everything we need is with us. I'm not trying to claim to be a font of wisdom in any narcissistic way. What I'm saying is that my spirit knows what my soul needs when I take myself into the Place of Deep-Indwelling, when I create and sit in sacred space. Joseph Campbell said "... if you have a sacred place and use it, something eventually will happen."[ The Power of Myth,1985] He meant to trust the process, participate in creating the process, be the process. The place I am  most myself is when I am sitting alone in the center of a draw circle. Within that circle I can visualize and experience anything. I can be my most quiet in that sacred stillness. What is Pagan within me (and this is very, very complicated) was born in this space, grew and radiated into the world.

Wonderful. Amazing. Indeed.

[ Further reading and study:http://www.brainpickings.org/2015/04/09/find-your-bliss-joseph-campbell-power-of-myth/ ]

Shrines Of My Own Experience

AquaAura

"Today I embark on a pilgrimage to shrines of my own experience, going back to places I once lived, places that will be filled with memories. In each of our lives there are these landmarks, physical histories that we inhabit, where the moments that made us who we are unfolded, at that time in vivid reality, but now as if only in a dream. Can we ever really go back? Yes and no. I will walk the same ground, see shapes and faces that I remember, but time has wrapped her gray skirts around the light of my past and the years have kept their promise of change. Still, it will be good to go home."
                                          
                                                                                           -Rt. Rev. Steven Charleston


Steven Charleston is a heretical member of the Choctaw, retired Dean of the School of Divinity at Yale University, former bishop of many diocese, and author of some pretty nifty spiritual truths, like the statement at the beginning of this post.

Bishop Charleston posts daily inspiration on Facebook and I seldom find myself disagreeing with him, although our paths have become spiritually divergent over the years. I admire his vision and dedication, and the fact that he often questions his chosen path. Even while questioning, I get  an undercurrent of the unshakable from him. It appears that the questions are for clarity and not due to a confusion about his journey. I admire his steadfastness. It gives me stability.

Midsummer is always bittersweet for me because it heralds an anniversary of  major life changes. I sold my family home, lost my sweet feline companion, and a dear friend, moved to a new location in an area that is pretty much politically and religiously at the opposite end of the spectrum of my personal tolerance - all within the weeks surrounding Litha over the period of a decade. I've said it before-I am not a Summer person. I do need the sunshine and light to keep the wolves of clinical depression away from my door. I love the sheer greenness of the grass, the trees and the flowers. But I am not a Summer beach goer; I don't bask (or bake) in the sun. I burn too easily, even slathered with sunblock. I don't like the relentless heat that goes on for days, or the unpredictable severity of Summer's storms. I love the ocean in the Winter, when the beach is deserted and the sand beneath my feet is firm from the cold. I like the crisp wind and the grey-blue sky that blends seamlessly with the endless water. I love the ice floes, the foam, and the cry of the gulls. I like the nakedness of the shoreline.

Back to the pilgrimage that the Good Bishop mentions. The places that have become shrines of my experience are many in the last few years. Not all of them have particularly good memories attached to them, but I can look back now in retrospect and find something good and positive-though bittersweet-in those days. Without trying, I have become the person I am most comfortable being. I have been fortunate to have fallen into who I am. Thanks be to the Goddesses and Gods who have been my companions! Perhaps before I had been trying too hard, driven by personal demons and mistaken beliefs about being successful. Today, revisiting landmarks and their histories, that which resonates most with me is that I am enough just as I am. That particularly speaks to who I am spiritually now. Many times have unknowingly worked at my Craft. I know so much more now than I did as that  17 year old who had an inkling that magic was all around me, but was clueless about how to access it in any measurable way. I know more than that young woman engrossed in formal theological study who later took vows to bring knowledge of the Divine to others. I know more-thankfully-than that fateful day just beyond a year of coven study. I know that the titles and degrees are simply descriptive of my journey and that though they were part of my path, they were not the journey.

Here in these mountains I am hundreds of miles from the place I spent most of my life, where my people lived and died. I have not been back for nearly eight years, and so much has changed. I still keep up on things a bit through online news, but it's no longer the place I left. That life is firmly behind me. There are a few friends I'd love to see, but we keep up through phone calls and email, so I'm up to speed. If I could manage to make myself invisible, I'd like to walk around the old neighborhood for a couple hours to collect the part of me I left there. And  I need to visit the graves of my loved ones just once more to leave some flowers and take pictures for my memory book.

Occasionally, it is good to go back, even when it's painful. It puts where I am today a little more in perspective and gives me clarity. Last night I gathered my tools-the tiny iron cauldron, the glazed chalice and leaf-shaped plate, the cut glass bowl that holds ritual salt, the water shell, the incense dish, sacred blade and assortment of crystals, candles and oils with the intention of rededicating all of it to service and the common good in the next day or so, whenever I invite the elementals and faeries  of my Scot-Irish/German/Italian heritage to the dance around the small symbolic fire with me.

Something else I'd like to go back to is celebrating the fest days of particular saints-something I happily did as an Anglo-Catholic but was uncomfortable doing in the early throes of obsession with Paganism. I have never been anti-Christian, but let's just say that the theology and liturgy fell out of my favor for awhile. Further self study has given me a new perspective and renewed interest in the subject. On St. John's Eve I plan to do my own little home head-washing ritual: maybe I can work in some of that rainwater that's been coming our way lately courtesy of tropical depression Bill. Not even going to pretend this will be anything like the actual traditional ritual on my end, but it will be something to satisfy my needs.  In case this sounds like something you'd like to explore further here's an excellent article: http://www.examiner.com/article/the-holy-day-of-voodoo-st-john-s-eve I'm finishing this post on the morning of the Solstice. The sky has just begun to lighten over the mountain behind me, and everything I can see from where I'm sitting is in long shadows. I love the sound of mornings here, when birds of all varieties are singing and the air is still cool. My visitor this morning is a tiny house wren just outside the window. I've been watching it for five minutes now, trying to imagine what that little being is thinking as it searches the sidewalk for crumbs and bugs. I am trying to visualize what it's like to be so unaware of my self that I simply fit into the scheme of things so innocently. Since I will never be a house wren (probably,reincarnation not withstanding, but who really knows?), it's presence this morning is a gift five minutes that I am not wondering or worrying about all the things I have to do today. Oh to be as free as that tiny bird!

         

Charms from the World Wars

Soldier's Lucky Charm

I look at photos of my grandfather in his Army uniform-wrapped leggings, tunic coat, broad-brimmed campaign hat- and I wonder what the world was like in the early part of the of the 20th century. Not much from that period in his life remains; a few fading photos, three menus from his time as a cook in the Army, his discharge card,  a few very fragile ribbons with religious medals tacked on them and a handful of fragmented stories which I have reconstructed from memory. He's been dead for nearly 30 years, and I am about to enter my sixth decade. Memory of those stories from long ago have begun to fade, so I occasionally do Google searches to fill in the historical fragments in his stories.

The Great War, WWI was fought between 1914 and 1918; Pop was eight years old. His father, a Roman Catholic,served in the Italian Army as an engineer (technically, he was a stone mason). He also repaired shoes and boots, actually making enough money to immigrate to America through France. I still have his Cobbler's hammer. Those who fought this war-the first to introduce chemical agents as a weapon and where many soldiers spent extended periods in muddy trenches-developed a sweeping and impressive tally of physical injuries, mental illness and other associated disease. Many got through the horrors of the trenches by their religious faith and carried good luck charms and items of sentimental value concealed in a pocket.

Photo of a  Himmelsbrief via Google

Many of these were photos of loved ones blessed by priests, holy cards ( a small card bearing the likeness of a patron saint), religious medals cheaply made and mass produced. The medals were worn on chains around the neck or tied with a ribbon and attached to the clothing with a safety pin; some were 'third degree' relics, that is, the medal and ribbon were touched to a first degree relic - bones or other body parts or clothing of a particular saint- to be sanctified, or they were simply sprinkled with holy water or prayed over by a member of the clergy. These were popular with members of the service of all faiths, not just Roman Catholics.

Another popular charm was the Himmelsbrief, or "Letter from Heaven", a protective device purported to have been written by angels or God Himself ,consisting of prayers and other sacred text, hex signs and other religious symbols printed on parchment or good quality paper. The Himmelsbrief originated with the Pennsylvania Dutch and came from the Pow Wow spiritual tradition and was usually framed and hung in a place of honor in the home, but when World War I became a reality, soldiers began to carry them ( or a similar charm on paper) into battle. My father had one, a gift from his PA Dutch/Irish-German mother. I saw it years ago and wish I had it.

Some enlisted men carried small toys as charms. The toy often represented an element of the soldier's job during the war. The Butterick Pattern Company offered instructions on making bundoos, handmade charms reflecting a magickal protective intention for the soldier to carry with him.

These charms were a form of sympathetic magic, as were the pictures of skulls, Grim Reapers and other death imagery seen on airplanes, trucks and tanks during WWI. The more menacing the image, the better to instill fear in the enemy.

The practice of carrying good luck charms into battle continued into WWII and beyond. Many soldiers stationed in Iraq carry some form of lucky charm, whether it be from religious devotion or simply superstition. The charms are a comfort and a reminder of something larger, that perhaps life and death are not a matter of Fate alone.

The one that I know is the third light about lighting 3 cigarettes from one match or lighter. The theory was that enemy snipers were drawn, at night time, to the flash of light of striking a match and lighting of the first cigarette, lighting the second cigarette allowed the sniper to get set and if a third was lit it gave time for the sniper to aim and to shoot. Even now, people far too young to have been around then still believe in the superstition even if they don't know what it means. (Cited from: http://www.militarian.com/threads/superstitions-from-ww1.6844/)

The one that I know is the third light about lighting 3 cigarettes from one match or lighter. The theory was that enemy snipers were drawn, at night time, to the flash of light of striking a match and lighting of the first cigarette, lighting the second cigarette allowed the sniper to get set and if a third was lit it gave time for the sniper to aim and to shoot. Even now, people far too young to have been around then still believe in the superstition even if they don't know what it means. (Cited from: http://www.militarian.com/threads/superstitions-from-ww1.6844/)

The one that I know is the third light about lighting 3 cigarettes from one match or lighter. The theory was that enemy snipers were drawn, at night time, to the flash of light of striking a match and lighting of the first cigarette, lighting the second cigarette allowed the sniper to get set and if a third was lit it gave time for the sniper to aim and to shoot. Even now, people far too young to have been around then still believe in the superstition even if they don't know what it means. (Cited from: http://www.militarian.com/threads/superstitions-from-ww1.6844/)

he one that I know is the third light about lighting 3 cigarettes from one match or lighter. The theory was that enemy snipers were drawn, at night time, to the flash of light of striking a match and lighting of the first cigarette, lighting the second cigarette allowed the sniper to get set and if a third was lit it gave time for the sniper to aim and to shoot. Even now, people far too young to have been around then still believe in the superstition even if they don't know what it means. (Cited from: http://www.militarian.com/threads/superstitions-from-ww1.6844/)

Challenging Charlie

photo courtesy Channel 2/CBS Chicago

" Charlie...Oh Charlie!"

Parlor games have always been popular entertainment among the masses. Enjoyed in the Victorian Era in Great Britain and The United States, games like Are You Moriarty? or Charades filled the evenings of family and friends before the advent of television and radio.

The Ouija Board was first introduced as an innocent  parlor game by Elijah Bond in 1890, when contacting the spirit world was still a paranormal oddity that peaked the curiosity of the middle and upper classes. The Ouija and other talking boards didn't become popular until the Spiritualist movement adopted them as a means of divination and a tool to contact deceased loved ones. This interest increased very specifically during World War I. Grieving relatives wanted to speak to soldiers who died in the trenches, to assure themselves the spirits of their loved ones were doing well on the Other Side. There have been many adaptations and types of talking boards since, and the Ouija Board continues  its popularity today.

As to more simplified versions of the talking board, such as the Charlie Challenge, which is currently a "thing" among teenagers on social media. (Actually, there have been some reports through news agencies that the Charlie Challenge has been around in some form since as far back as 2004.  ) The way the 'challenge' ( read that as taking a dare) is played is by constructing a crude grid and using two crossed pencils as an indicator. As urban legend goes, Charlie is a Mexican demon that is summoned by calling, " Charlie, Charlie...Come  out and play." The premise of the game is that Charlie will answer questions through the use of the grid. Failing to properly say your farewells to Charlie evidently pisses him off and allows him to hang around causing all sorts of havoc in your life.
Like many other games of this sort, its popularity is boosted by the titillation caused by the power of suggestion.  Let's face it- this sort of thing is skewed toward a young demographic. Teens are particularly keen to this type of mind game; being scared silly by something slightly taboo and occult is ingrained in our psyche.

The claims that the game is  an old Mexican tradition has been refuted outright. And I have to ask: why is this entity named Charlie? Not very Mexican sounding to me. Why isn't he named Juan or Carlos or Xavier? Or something more exotic, since Mexican demons tend to hail from the Mayan and Aztec civilizations? It may be stretching it a bit, but the word 'Charlie' in urban slang ( drug culture references aside) is to be a best friend, a loyal friend, someone who is always there when you need them. To be a 'Charlie' is a more personalized version of 'Dude'. I can see how some adventurous teens might think a spiritual entity-particularly one who presents itself as being friendly-could easily earn this distinction. Having the ability to call an entity into being with the simple words, "Charlie, Charlie...Do you want to come out and play?" is mind-blowing, no matter what your age. There is no complicated ritual, no special tools other than a couple ordinary pencils and some paper. As humans, it appeals to our concept of self-importance and pride. It  bumps up our morale and deepens our self absorption.

The most logical explanation of what is making the pencils move is physics; the pencils cannot sit perfectly still atop one another due to their design. They will move with the slightest vibration or breath. It has even been said that they have been moved with kinetic energy of the participants. The stories that accompany this  bit of dabbling maybe be just the stuff urban myth are made of...or not. Remember that  'urban myths' is a modern  Aesop's Fables. It is outrageous and contains elements of shock or horror, and has a moral at the end.  Urban Legends are usually of obscure origin and has little supporting evidence. It spreads spontaneously through word of mouth-and most specifically on social media. Reason and logic tells us it is nothing but silly stories.

There are always some stories that go beyond accepted reality that are pretty convincing and unexplainable. They are more often retold by those with highly suggestible imaginations. I haven't heard of any personally that I would put stock into, but the fact that  most of these stories have a negative outcome is reason enough to err on the side of  caution. One of the most memorable sayings in occultism is " Don't call up what you can't put down." It's good advise, especially when you are involved in activities employing unseen and unknown forces.

So while I'm betting that The Charlie Challenge is probably just so much fun and games, I cannot say that with certainty...and it has raised a few questions for me because it echoes something I in an  interview by paranormal expert Rosemary Ellen Guiley. At the time she was talking about her collaboration with demonologist Darren Evans researching the Zozo Phenomenon. 

Since the 1980s a spirit entity that calls itself Zozo has been popping up during divination sessions, specifically when using  talking boards, pendulums and automatic writing; the entity has also identified itself by other Z-names, and occasionally as "Mama". According to Evans, who is considered to be an expert on dealing with these particular spirits, these entities appear friendly at first, but have "dangerous agendas".  His research has uncovered evidence of Zozo being listed in an 18th century French dictionary (citing an example of possession) as a harmful demon. He also gives an example from an early20th century Greek tourism book that states the name "Zozo" is used in reference to the 

Another possibility as to the true identity of "Charlie"?
Okay, it's a joke. A bad joke.

the Assyrian-Babalonian demon Pazuz. The demon communicates most frequently through talking boards, at first appearing to be friendly and helpful to gain the trust of those making inquiry. It holds the interest of those participating in the session by providing personal information, and seems to be attracted to young females and those with psychological disorders. Rosemary Ellen Guiley has also given grave warning concerning this particular entity: " Zozo appears to cause psychological problems, poltergeist activity, and the ability to linger around in the physical world."


Is a dangerous demon from an ancient culture masquerading as the amicable Charlie? Is that the actual challenge-to unmask who's actually there? All I can tell you is one can never be too careful when interfacing with unseen/unknown forces, and I can not stress using caution during encountering spirits. Even when it seems to be a harmless parlor game.Or a marketing stunt for a movie.( Want to know where Charlie really comes from? It's a movie called The Gathering. Yep. The whole thing was another one of those viral social experiments...or so they say).

http://zozotheouijaspirit.blogspot.com/