Before I even start this review I think it's only fair to say that not only do I know the author, I consider her a good friend and someone whose intelligence and wisdom I respect and look up to greatly. So while I will aim to make this review as honest and objective as I always try to, I think it's only fair to be up front about any possible biases.
God Speaking
Judith O'Grady
This is a difficult book to describe in some ways because for all that it's pretty short – it's 52 pages all told – it packs an awful lot in and I don't want to do any of it a disservice. In general, this is a book about the intersection between ecology and religion, arguing that being environmentally aware isn't enough; that is, if we are to have a future on this planet then the three Rs (reduce, reuse, recycle) will only get us so far. So we need another R: Religion. In particular, we need to listen to the gods, or listen to those who are God Bothered, as it were, and this is where the title comes in. If we want to be mindful of what the gods want from us then we need to be sure that we're getting the right messages; not wishful thinking from our subconscious or outright lies.
The title perhaps has a double meaning, though, because as much as it deals with this subject matter, it's also a book that has come about as a direct result of the author's own experiences with "God Speaking." Due to the length of the book it has more the feel of an essay in a way (a fairly long one, with chapters), and there's a very conversational tone to it – along with a good dose of self-deprecating humour – that makes it an engaging read. The author assumes a degree of knowledge that means it's maybe not geared towards an absolute beginner as far as things pagan goes, and while there's a healthy smattering of examples from Irish myth and lore to illustrate certain points, there's also a good balance of other examples that I think will give a wider appeal to those who aren't especially rooted in Irish or Celtic practices.
Although I couldn't say I'm particularly well read when it comes to books aimed at pagans these days, this is a book that strikes me as being genuinely unusual – both in the over all message and the strands that are brought together to make the point (philosophy, science, as well as spiritual bits, that is). In explaining how God Speaking works for the author, and what the pitfalls may be once you get into the finer details of the matter, you really get into a discussion that I don't think you find anywhere else. I think it's a really important discussion to have even if you're not gifted – or don't think you are – because so many people set themselves up as mouthpieces these days, when really they're just spouting wishful thinking or outright lying for attention (consciously or not).
The good thing about it all is that the author always makes it clear that this is just her point of view, opinion or experience, and whether you agree or disagree, it's a thought-provoking ride. There are lots of philosophical tangents you can go off on as you read, and spend some time chewing on a sentence here or there before carrying on with the text. That makes it feel like this could or should have been a much larger book. In some ways I think it should be (or perhaps more to the point wish it were so) and I think a lot of people might think that. But at the same time I think it's a book that's exactly as it should be, because if it were longer then the over all message might become somewhat diffuse and lost in the details. Those details are perhaps for another book. Whatever the case, I hope there is another one, at least.
Showing posts with label mysticism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mysticism. Show all posts
Sunday, 23 June 2013
Friday, 20 January 2012
Signs
Last week, as I was taking the dogs out for a walk with kids in tow, I stumbled across a dead crow, lying in the middle of the pavement. Now that, I thought, can't be a good sign.
With a lot of thought and worrying and gnawing at the innards of my mind, I came to the conclusion that it wasn't so much a sign of impending doom for myself (though I'm still not ruling that out), but that it maybe has more to do with the recent storms that have caused so much devastation and damage in the area. The storms have been nothing like I've ever seen before, and perhaps this crow was a sign to tell me that this place is hurting, and it needs something from me.
Here, mostly stuck on the sofa in pain at the moment, I've not been doing as much to maintain my obligations to this area, and if it takes a dead crow to give me a good kick up the arse, then it's perhaps time to take a hint that I really need to pick things up. During the storms I made offerings to the Cailleachan, the Storm Hags who unleash their fury in the wind and the rain, the raging waves and the rising streams. I watched the storms and breathed them in, at times I got caught up in the energy and the fury, and marvelled in what nature can do sometimes. I prayed and I sang, and on my rounds the other week, I took in the damage.
On a day to day basis, though, I think it's safe to say that I've mostly been wallowing on the sofa; the past few weeks or so haven't been great, as far as keeping on top of the chronic pain issues have gone. I've been so busy wallowing (and trying to escape at the same time, but running in the wrong direction), perhaps, that I've dropped the ball, and I need to get back on an even keel. Instead of wallowing, I need to get up and do.
So that's what I'm trying to do, getting back to concentrating on my daily devotions; my prayers and offerings, maintaining and rebuilding my relationship with this land that have otherwise been a little fudged recently. Balance must be restored, and my mistakes must be owned and owned up to.
But that's not what this post is about, really; I'm more thinking about signs in general...It's a tricky subject when it comes to a religion that otherwise emphasises that which can be found in books. There's no manual, when it comes to signs. There's nothing set in stone. For once, instead of nosing into a book and burying into research, it's something that we have to turn inwards to for answers. That can be difficult for a lot of folks, I think, and the whole mystical side of practice is something I've struggled with myself, on and off. After I finally had a bit of a breakthrough with it all, and finally got to grips with it, a dear friend said to me, "Welcome to the crazy."
Thanks. I think.
Signs are a tricky subject. You don't necessarily have to be gifted in seeing them per se (I mean, sometimes they're about as subtle as a brick in the face, y'know?), but at the same time, some people just aren't gifted, and that's just the way it is. I can't claim to be an expert in this, of course. I can't make any claims at proficiency. I try, because it's something that I've always been unable to avoid, in spite of the fact that once upon a time I might have tried to. It's just a part of me, and why run away from yourself?
It's the interpreting of signs that's often the hard part. It takes a kind of self-trust and self-knowledge that can be difficult to find; with signs, we have to be honest with ourselves, and sometimes it can be hard to do that. Sometimes there are things about ourselves that we don't to acknowledge, but in striving to be the best we can be, to uphold the values that we as Gaelic Polytheists hold dear...we must strive for truth, and strive for truth being at the heart of everything we do.
Struggling with those inner demons, sometimes we can receive signs that are so painfully obvious it's practically screaming the answer at us, and still we get totally the wrong end of the stick. Sometimes it's because we don't want to admit that we've been going about things wrong; that we've just received a negative sign. Sometimes, when life has thrown us more than a few lemons, the hard part can even be trusting in the fact that you've just had a good sign. Sometimes, we need a little guidance. Eventually, we might just get the hint.
At one point in my evolving Celtic Reconstructionist practices, I tried ogam for divinatory purposes, which included making my own set:
I chose to make them according to the colour correspondences associated with each letter; I respond strongly to colour, and I can't claim to be much of an expert with trees so using the more common tree correspondences seemed a bit pointless. I also tried a neutral set, with no colour or decoration:
Both sets - and others I've since experimented with - were put together from driftwood I found at the local beach after we moved to these here parts on the west coast; wood I collected as part of my efforts to settle in to this place. It involved a long process of offerings and building a relationship with the area before it felt right to even begin collecting anything from the local beach, and then I had to invest in the tools to burn the lettering and ogam into the wood before painting and/or treating with beeswax to preserve them.
The first set I connected with better, but ultimately I decided that ogam is not something that I really get on with. I experimented for a while with taking an ogam reading for the festivals, or when I felt it was necessary, for example, and while I did find them effective and useful in one sense, in another it never seemed to sit right with me. I'm beginning to think it was because I was limiting myself with them, and that as part of settling in here I needed to be looking around me for signs, familiarising myself with the locale and continuing to build on my relationship with it. Certainly my experimenting with the ogam helped me get more comfortable with engaging in the more mystical aspects of practice, though, and it helped solidify my thoughts on it all. Every now and then I think about going back to them; it seems a shame for them to sit in a cupboard, unused.
And so at least I managed to build on it. Birds, in particular (and in keeping with tradition, I think), form a large part of the signs I might see in general. Magpies are something that I feel have some sort of personal significance, but corvids in general have signficance to me and a lot of other folks.
As well as herons, owls, that kind of thing. A breeze picking up at the right time, clouds passing in front of the sun or moon at particular moments, the calling of birds or animals hanging the night air; and so on...
Sometimes signs can seem totally random. One time, I found a rainbow trout lying on the pavement outside my house. A perfectly whole trout, just randomly laying on the pavement...As things go, I figured it had to mean something, but that one I was totally stumped by...
There have been times when the signs have been a lot more obvious, though. One morning of Là Fhèill Brìghde I got up to find that our back door was wide open; as signs for Bride having visited go, you can't get any stronger really.
Last Samhainn, I set out some offerings to my ancestors and had a few words before finishing off my devotions. As I stood back and looked up to the sky for any signs, I saw a band of the Milky Way shining bright and clear above me - beautifully - and then a shooting star travelling right in front of me, in the west towards the ancestors. It's not often I get something as clear as those kinds of signs, but when I do, it's a time when I feel infinitely amazed at the world around me.
And so, all this rambling brings me to the thought that - for me at least - looking for signs is one of the ways I can keep connected with the land around me. With the gods and spirits and ancestors. Without that connection, I'm adrift, wallowing, out of balance. Maybe sometimes it takes a dead crow to wake me up.
Or maybe...maybe I'm just a bit mental and making things up as I go along. "Welcome to the crazy," my friend said.
Indeed.
Addendum: Gorm over at Three Shouts on a Hilltop has some very good thoughts to add to the subject, which is well worth a read.
With a lot of thought and worrying and gnawing at the innards of my mind, I came to the conclusion that it wasn't so much a sign of impending doom for myself (though I'm still not ruling that out), but that it maybe has more to do with the recent storms that have caused so much devastation and damage in the area. The storms have been nothing like I've ever seen before, and perhaps this crow was a sign to tell me that this place is hurting, and it needs something from me.
Here, mostly stuck on the sofa in pain at the moment, I've not been doing as much to maintain my obligations to this area, and if it takes a dead crow to give me a good kick up the arse, then it's perhaps time to take a hint that I really need to pick things up. During the storms I made offerings to the Cailleachan, the Storm Hags who unleash their fury in the wind and the rain, the raging waves and the rising streams. I watched the storms and breathed them in, at times I got caught up in the energy and the fury, and marvelled in what nature can do sometimes. I prayed and I sang, and on my rounds the other week, I took in the damage.
On a day to day basis, though, I think it's safe to say that I've mostly been wallowing on the sofa; the past few weeks or so haven't been great, as far as keeping on top of the chronic pain issues have gone. I've been so busy wallowing (and trying to escape at the same time, but running in the wrong direction), perhaps, that I've dropped the ball, and I need to get back on an even keel. Instead of wallowing, I need to get up and do.
So that's what I'm trying to do, getting back to concentrating on my daily devotions; my prayers and offerings, maintaining and rebuilding my relationship with this land that have otherwise been a little fudged recently. Balance must be restored, and my mistakes must be owned and owned up to.
But that's not what this post is about, really; I'm more thinking about signs in general...It's a tricky subject when it comes to a religion that otherwise emphasises that which can be found in books. There's no manual, when it comes to signs. There's nothing set in stone. For once, instead of nosing into a book and burying into research, it's something that we have to turn inwards to for answers. That can be difficult for a lot of folks, I think, and the whole mystical side of practice is something I've struggled with myself, on and off. After I finally had a bit of a breakthrough with it all, and finally got to grips with it, a dear friend said to me, "Welcome to the crazy."
Thanks. I think.
Signs are a tricky subject. You don't necessarily have to be gifted in seeing them per se (I mean, sometimes they're about as subtle as a brick in the face, y'know?), but at the same time, some people just aren't gifted, and that's just the way it is. I can't claim to be an expert in this, of course. I can't make any claims at proficiency. I try, because it's something that I've always been unable to avoid, in spite of the fact that once upon a time I might have tried to. It's just a part of me, and why run away from yourself?
It's the interpreting of signs that's often the hard part. It takes a kind of self-trust and self-knowledge that can be difficult to find; with signs, we have to be honest with ourselves, and sometimes it can be hard to do that. Sometimes there are things about ourselves that we don't to acknowledge, but in striving to be the best we can be, to uphold the values that we as Gaelic Polytheists hold dear...we must strive for truth, and strive for truth being at the heart of everything we do.
Struggling with those inner demons, sometimes we can receive signs that are so painfully obvious it's practically screaming the answer at us, and still we get totally the wrong end of the stick. Sometimes it's because we don't want to admit that we've been going about things wrong; that we've just received a negative sign. Sometimes, when life has thrown us more than a few lemons, the hard part can even be trusting in the fact that you've just had a good sign. Sometimes, we need a little guidance. Eventually, we might just get the hint.
At one point in my evolving Celtic Reconstructionist practices, I tried ogam for divinatory purposes, which included making my own set:
I chose to make them according to the colour correspondences associated with each letter; I respond strongly to colour, and I can't claim to be much of an expert with trees so using the more common tree correspondences seemed a bit pointless. I also tried a neutral set, with no colour or decoration:
Both sets - and others I've since experimented with - were put together from driftwood I found at the local beach after we moved to these here parts on the west coast; wood I collected as part of my efforts to settle in to this place. It involved a long process of offerings and building a relationship with the area before it felt right to even begin collecting anything from the local beach, and then I had to invest in the tools to burn the lettering and ogam into the wood before painting and/or treating with beeswax to preserve them.
The first set I connected with better, but ultimately I decided that ogam is not something that I really get on with. I experimented for a while with taking an ogam reading for the festivals, or when I felt it was necessary, for example, and while I did find them effective and useful in one sense, in another it never seemed to sit right with me. I'm beginning to think it was because I was limiting myself with them, and that as part of settling in here I needed to be looking around me for signs, familiarising myself with the locale and continuing to build on my relationship with it. Certainly my experimenting with the ogam helped me get more comfortable with engaging in the more mystical aspects of practice, though, and it helped solidify my thoughts on it all. Every now and then I think about going back to them; it seems a shame for them to sit in a cupboard, unused.
And so at least I managed to build on it. Birds, in particular (and in keeping with tradition, I think), form a large part of the signs I might see in general. Magpies are something that I feel have some sort of personal significance, but corvids in general have signficance to me and a lot of other folks.
As well as herons, owls, that kind of thing. A breeze picking up at the right time, clouds passing in front of the sun or moon at particular moments, the calling of birds or animals hanging the night air; and so on...
Sometimes signs can seem totally random. One time, I found a rainbow trout lying on the pavement outside my house. A perfectly whole trout, just randomly laying on the pavement...As things go, I figured it had to mean something, but that one I was totally stumped by...
There have been times when the signs have been a lot more obvious, though. One morning of Là Fhèill Brìghde I got up to find that our back door was wide open; as signs for Bride having visited go, you can't get any stronger really.
Last Samhainn, I set out some offerings to my ancestors and had a few words before finishing off my devotions. As I stood back and looked up to the sky for any signs, I saw a band of the Milky Way shining bright and clear above me - beautifully - and then a shooting star travelling right in front of me, in the west towards the ancestors. It's not often I get something as clear as those kinds of signs, but when I do, it's a time when I feel infinitely amazed at the world around me.
And so, all this rambling brings me to the thought that - for me at least - looking for signs is one of the ways I can keep connected with the land around me. With the gods and spirits and ancestors. Without that connection, I'm adrift, wallowing, out of balance. Maybe sometimes it takes a dead crow to wake me up.
Or maybe...maybe I'm just a bit mental and making things up as I go along. "Welcome to the crazy," my friend said.
Indeed.
Addendum: Gorm over at Three Shouts on a Hilltop has some very good thoughts to add to the subject, which is well worth a read.
Sunday, 10 April 2011
Deep thoughts on mysticism...an' stuff...
Reconstructionism has a bit of an image problem.
On the one hand, some might say that it's the path of choice for Those With A Big Stick Up Their Butt™; and so as such, inevitably much of our time is spent in bickering about just who has the biggest stick. On the other hand, some might say that reconstructionism is too backward-looking (and I actually saw this said on a druid forum, no less. I found that kind of ironic) - and perhaps what's really meant is that the study of the past is over-empasised at the expense of actually experiencing any sort of meaningful practice in the present. I suppose this moves us on to the gripping hand - that reconstructionists are far more interested in reading books, and the resulting intellectual wankery, for their own ego rather than anything else. Thinking about it, I suppose that ends up taking us back round to the first hand of bickering about whose stick is biggest.
Have I just made a gigantic circle-jerk analogy? Oh dear...
But let's not forget the snobbery. As a reconstructionist, not only is my stick bigger, and shinier than yours, my books are better and more obscure, and I have more qualifications/years of experience/better teachers than you do, and by the way, you can't be a reconstructionist because UR DOIN' IT RONG.
It's unfortunate, but sometimes - maybe more often than anyone's willing to admit - these problems can dominate what anyone of us are actually trying to do. In some places, reconstructionism is a dirty word, simply because of our reputation, and there is a sort of Us and Them view of reconstructionism, from those outside of the community insofar as they view reconstructionists, but also within the community insofar as they view non-reconstructionists, and even whether one is seen as having a big enough stick to qualify as actually reconstructionist or just a poseur.
With Celtic Reconstructionism, truth - Truth - is something that is held to be a core value. It is something that is strived for, but something that is ultimately subjective. Therein lies the problem, to a certain extent, especially in terms of the recent discussions I've seen going on about Mystic Reconstructionism, which have been both illuminating (in terms of what's been said on the matter) and unfortunate (in terms of the almost inevitable side-helping of bickering). I'm coming to the debate a little late, I guess, so maybe I'm not one to judge on that front, because I didn't see how it all unfolded at the time.
I've written before about my struggle with mysticism. Mysticism, to me, is something that's essential to any path, but as someone who likes the books, the research, the extrapolating from sources that I can cite, I've had a hard time getting comfortable with something that is less concrete, even as someone who's previously been inititated into a mystery tradition, and experienced such mystical revelations as the initiations I was subject to.
In the end, though, as much as it's been something I've wrestled with at times, it's something I've found to be freeing as well. My experiences are my own, and sometimes they don't make sense; mysticism itself isn't a logical process, first and foremost, because it comes from somewhere unseen. Because I'm a reconstructionist, while I see that mysticism is a key element of how I experience my spirituality, how I approach my spirituality is one that is primarily informed by what can be known (or perhaps, more accurately, extrapolated) from the sources. But that's not the be all and end all of it, because as a Celtic Reconstructionist the sources that help to inform us aren't all that explicit, or transparently pre-Christian in origin.
The first stop, then, is what can be known. What we can't know, we have to rely on UPG to help guide us, and for Celtic Reconstructionists we have to rely on a healthy dose sometimes. In this respect, not everyone is going to agree with how one approaches and extrapolates from the sources, and forms into actual practice. I'm well aware that I'm not the strongest ritualist, for example, and in part this is perhaps because I'm weaker on the (perhaps being as comfortable with the) mysticism element of practice than others within the CR community are.
A lot of the disagreements, though, seems to be centred upon the degree of which UPG is emphasised, and the way in which it is applied personally, or shared with others. In the debates, 'mysticism' seems to be seen as synonymous with UPG, and that's something I can get on board with in some ways, because in my own practices, any mystical revelations I may experience are just that - extremely personal. That's why it's difficult for me to see the problem in terms of these things being shared - or not being shared as I've often seen it lamented. I may share them with a few people who I know and trust; I may share them with a wider audience if I feel the need. But ultimately, they're not something that generally has any meaning or value except to myself, and this in itself is perhaps why it's been so difficult for the CR community as a whole, or (perhaps more relevantly) CRs within specific cultural contexts, to agree on commonalities of practice.
This all comes back to certain problems emerging - accusations of snobbery, intellectual wankery, and so on. Sometimes - maybe more often than anyone's really willing to admit - these accusations are justified (and to be fair, pretty much all of these problems aren't unique to reconstructionist groups, it's just the kind of sticks, books and qualifications are slightly different if you go elsewhere. You like Scott Cunningham?! You're self-initiated? What's your lineage? Who's your High Priestess? You can't possibly be Wiccan...In this respect, I've had the exact same sort of arguments as a Wiccan as I've seen in the reconstructionist community).
The unfortunate side-effect of all this is that when bickering flairs up within the various reconstructionist communities, points can get lost in discussions because people start taking it personally, and/or start arguing from ego, and the discussion turns from actual debate to defensive back and forths or (worse) simply point-scoring. That's the difficulty of online discussions - it's difficult to interpret tone, and that can make things seem more blunt and snarky than they might have been intended.
So where does that leave anyone? Community can be - and should be - a wonderful thing. There is something deeply wrong with a community when civil discussions can't be had without accusations flying, due to ego, paranoia, past experiences and hurts, or whatever. We as a community are never going to grow up, mature, evolve in healthy way if that's all these discussions end up as.
On the one hand, some might say that it's the path of choice for Those With A Big Stick Up Their Butt™; and so as such, inevitably much of our time is spent in bickering about just who has the biggest stick. On the other hand, some might say that reconstructionism is too backward-looking (and I actually saw this said on a druid forum, no less. I found that kind of ironic) - and perhaps what's really meant is that the study of the past is over-empasised at the expense of actually experiencing any sort of meaningful practice in the present. I suppose this moves us on to the gripping hand - that reconstructionists are far more interested in reading books, and the resulting intellectual wankery, for their own ego rather than anything else. Thinking about it, I suppose that ends up taking us back round to the first hand of bickering about whose stick is biggest.
Have I just made a gigantic circle-jerk analogy? Oh dear...
But let's not forget the snobbery. As a reconstructionist, not only is my stick bigger, and shinier than yours, my books are better and more obscure, and I have more qualifications/years of experience/better teachers than you do, and by the way, you can't be a reconstructionist because UR DOIN' IT RONG.
It's unfortunate, but sometimes - maybe more often than anyone's willing to admit - these problems can dominate what anyone of us are actually trying to do. In some places, reconstructionism is a dirty word, simply because of our reputation, and there is a sort of Us and Them view of reconstructionism, from those outside of the community insofar as they view reconstructionists, but also within the community insofar as they view non-reconstructionists, and even whether one is seen as having a big enough stick to qualify as actually reconstructionist or just a poseur.
With Celtic Reconstructionism, truth - Truth - is something that is held to be a core value. It is something that is strived for, but something that is ultimately subjective. Therein lies the problem, to a certain extent, especially in terms of the recent discussions I've seen going on about Mystic Reconstructionism, which have been both illuminating (in terms of what's been said on the matter) and unfortunate (in terms of the almost inevitable side-helping of bickering). I'm coming to the debate a little late, I guess, so maybe I'm not one to judge on that front, because I didn't see how it all unfolded at the time.
I've written before about my struggle with mysticism. Mysticism, to me, is something that's essential to any path, but as someone who likes the books, the research, the extrapolating from sources that I can cite, I've had a hard time getting comfortable with something that is less concrete, even as someone who's previously been inititated into a mystery tradition, and experienced such mystical revelations as the initiations I was subject to.
In the end, though, as much as it's been something I've wrestled with at times, it's something I've found to be freeing as well. My experiences are my own, and sometimes they don't make sense; mysticism itself isn't a logical process, first and foremost, because it comes from somewhere unseen. Because I'm a reconstructionist, while I see that mysticism is a key element of how I experience my spirituality, how I approach my spirituality is one that is primarily informed by what can be known (or perhaps, more accurately, extrapolated) from the sources. But that's not the be all and end all of it, because as a Celtic Reconstructionist the sources that help to inform us aren't all that explicit, or transparently pre-Christian in origin.
The first stop, then, is what can be known. What we can't know, we have to rely on UPG to help guide us, and for Celtic Reconstructionists we have to rely on a healthy dose sometimes. In this respect, not everyone is going to agree with how one approaches and extrapolates from the sources, and forms into actual practice. I'm well aware that I'm not the strongest ritualist, for example, and in part this is perhaps because I'm weaker on the (perhaps being as comfortable with the) mysticism element of practice than others within the CR community are.
A lot of the disagreements, though, seems to be centred upon the degree of which UPG is emphasised, and the way in which it is applied personally, or shared with others. In the debates, 'mysticism' seems to be seen as synonymous with UPG, and that's something I can get on board with in some ways, because in my own practices, any mystical revelations I may experience are just that - extremely personal. That's why it's difficult for me to see the problem in terms of these things being shared - or not being shared as I've often seen it lamented. I may share them with a few people who I know and trust; I may share them with a wider audience if I feel the need. But ultimately, they're not something that generally has any meaning or value except to myself, and this in itself is perhaps why it's been so difficult for the CR community as a whole, or (perhaps more relevantly) CRs within specific cultural contexts, to agree on commonalities of practice.
This all comes back to certain problems emerging - accusations of snobbery, intellectual wankery, and so on. Sometimes - maybe more often than anyone's really willing to admit - these accusations are justified (and to be fair, pretty much all of these problems aren't unique to reconstructionist groups, it's just the kind of sticks, books and qualifications are slightly different if you go elsewhere. You like Scott Cunningham?! You're self-initiated? What's your lineage? Who's your High Priestess? You can't possibly be Wiccan...In this respect, I've had the exact same sort of arguments as a Wiccan as I've seen in the reconstructionist community).
The unfortunate side-effect of all this is that when bickering flairs up within the various reconstructionist communities, points can get lost in discussions because people start taking it personally, and/or start arguing from ego, and the discussion turns from actual debate to defensive back and forths or (worse) simply point-scoring. That's the difficulty of online discussions - it's difficult to interpret tone, and that can make things seem more blunt and snarky than they might have been intended.
So where does that leave anyone? Community can be - and should be - a wonderful thing. There is something deeply wrong with a community when civil discussions can't be had without accusations flying, due to ego, paranoia, past experiences and hurts, or whatever. We as a community are never going to grow up, mature, evolve in healthy way if that's all these discussions end up as.
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Archive: Nitpicking, CR-style (2)
It's that time of year again...More spiritual ponderings...
Labels are a tricky thing. Sometimes they can be as liberating as they can be confining. It's good to be able to say you're something; this is where I belong, this is where I am; to be able to say you have a home, a family that you share things with and lean on when needed; be inspired by or receive a timely boot up the arse as necessary.
But generally these labels come with responsibilities. Am I doing it right? Does the label still belong? Because there's not much point clinging to a label that no longer fits. It's kinda like weariing a pair of jeans you really really like the look of even though they don't suit you and there's a serious amount of muffin top going on. It's just not attractive. And if you're not honest with yourself and others, then you're not being honourable, and how can you do honour to the gods if it's based on a lie? Because ultimately, doing the right thing is what counts; finding truth.
So then sometimes, with wanting to live up to those labels you've set upon yourself along with some high expectations, the focus comes to be on doing it right (whatever that means), and then thinking about doing it right instead of actually doing anything, just to make sure that you're going to be doing it right. Combine all that with the worry that those experiences, the thoughts and feelings that come with practice and exploring a relationship with the gods, might not be True because this is an area well out of the comfort zone of being able to Cite Your Sources: That maybe those thoughts and feelings are just what you want to hear, because it feels good to be validated sometimes, so you don't have to worry about whether or not you're just plain bonkers...Suddenly in amongst the mental jumble you've just made it all gets disconnected, the threads get lost. Maybe it's just me. Not that I tend to over-analyse or anything.
For the most part a healthy dose of Get A Grip sorts it all out, and that's something I've been working on. I do, but I don't overthink what I'm doing. I do research and find inspiration in it, rather than letting it restrict me too much by getting bogged down on the minute details (although I like exploring the minute details sometimes; the trick is making sure I don't get lost in them), and now I've got to the point where I have a rhythm of practise that takes me through each day, each season. I find that sharing what I do, and reading about what other people do also helps to keep things in perspective. Although recently I've come to realise I've been slipping into over-analysing again (or veering close to it, anyway). I realise I've been hesitating, stalling a little.
My practises are constantly evolving as I gain a better understanding of what I think reconstructionism is and how it shapes what I do; I enjoy the challenge and I find the results to be incredibly personal and meaningful. And as I do, and then think about what I've been doing, what I've experienced, I get an idea of what I still need to work on to gain a better balance in my practises. I'm not there yet (and probably just as I think I've got it I'll find I need something slightly different), but I've got to a point where I think I have the basics down, for now.
But just as I feel like I've dealt with the distractions of getting settled into a new house, somewhere I can put roots down, and a feeling of being on a firmer footing with what I'm doing here, something happens: A realisation, finding myself going off in a different and unexpected direction. And as much as it's been a good thing, part of me is left feeling all off-kilter again, like I'm just learning about all this and finding my way again. So I've gone back to feeling like I'm stumbling around in the dark a little - especially when it comes to how I see the gods and my relationship with them. At times they still feel so...nebulous. And no, I don't expect (or want) it all to be laid out in a how to manual before me: this is how you do it, this is what you should expect to happen, and this is how you know you're doing it right...But sometimes, when it's just you and Them, you start to wonder if you're really not just plain bonkers after all, especially when things don't quite go how you were expecting them to.
Just when I thought I was getting to grips with the attention of one particular goddess who seemed to be making herself known, it's all gone a bit unexpected. This winter, my first winter here, I've really been feeling like I've been making some sort of connection with the Cailleach, and given the season that all makes sense. No real surprise, and it's nice to know that I'm getting something right, it seems. Finally I'm starting to feel like I'm getting a proper footing with where I am and what I'm doing, and it all feels like it fits into this landscape and into the context of my practises. But then it gets a little confusing because my attention is drawn back to Badb and deep down I still really don't know where she fits in, but I know that she's there and she'll bide until I figure it out. I can't help but feel there's a reason for her prodding at me, and so far I haven't felt it's because I'm supposed to devote myself to her. Yet, perhaps, if ever. Whatever the future holds, there are some things I need to figure out before I get a complete picture of things, but as much as I've made some progress on finding answers, I've started to feel like I'd come to a bit of a dead end.
There've been a lot of good discussions about the place recently, here on lj and some of the lists, and combined with some questions somebody asked me, it's all put a few thoughts in motion. I was asked about how I saw things with Badb these days, and whether the sticking point for me in the past had been that she's not a goddess who 'lives' here, but in Ireland. Or whether it was the context, only a tenuous connection between there being a historical link with Badb and Scotland - as in, she could have been brought over here, but there's nothing I've seen to suggest an overt link.
I don't believe the gods are tied to a place in a literal, physical sense (solely, anyway), so I replied the latter, but that in my meanderings and somewhat tentative practises (at times, anyway, I'm still a little leery of this mysticism stuff, as I've said in the past), I'd come to realise that perhaps I was over-emphasising the differences between Ireland and Scotland rather than recognising their joint heritage. One thing that brought it all home to me is that I've been doing some writing and research about Bealltainn, and in comparing the Scottish and Irish practices the similarities are striking (but I digress...). And then there's the fact that I can't help but feel that there's some sort of connection between Badb and the Irish side of my heritage, which I've always felt a deep affection for (especially because it's through my nan's side of the family), and because Badb seems to have her origins in the area my family's from.
So then came the question, do you think that Badb's presence has anything to do with your nan's condition, given the ancestry angle? Hmm, I thought, maybe. Good question. I've been trying to work on the whole ancestry aspect of my practises because it's the one area I've been feeling I need to think about more, and express more in what I do. There's something about honouring my ancestors in general that I'm fine with in a non-specific way, but it's a different matter when I think about those I've known personally, so I feel I've been shying away from that side of things because I don't want to 'bother' them. Which is odd, really, but it's something I'm going to have to get over, and I'm working on it.
And if I consider all this, then I can't help but think that yes, maybe that's got something to do with finding how Badb fits in, because deep down I feel that there's a reason, something I haven't been getting. Maybe I need to learn more about my ancestors, and if that's the case then my nan's key to that because she's the genealogist in the family, and the more I'm confronted with the thought of losing my last living grandparent (and vaguely sane member of the family) the more I feel the need to be able to honour her properly when the time comes. Even though she'll probably hang around for another 20 years or so...
So it's all led up to a bit of an AHA! moment, because finally things are all starting to feel like it fits together. Connections are being made and a new direction has opened up, and it's all because of a handy label I stuck on myself, and a handy label that other people use too, that brought me to meet people who have given me a good shove in the right direction this time. Or so it seems. It seems to be the right way to go; "it feels good", but it also "feels Right". All in all, I can say I'm on step one. Now I just have to see if it works...
Labels are a tricky thing. Sometimes they can be as liberating as they can be confining. It's good to be able to say you're something; this is where I belong, this is where I am; to be able to say you have a home, a family that you share things with and lean on when needed; be inspired by or receive a timely boot up the arse as necessary.
But generally these labels come with responsibilities. Am I doing it right? Does the label still belong? Because there's not much point clinging to a label that no longer fits. It's kinda like weariing a pair of jeans you really really like the look of even though they don't suit you and there's a serious amount of muffin top going on. It's just not attractive. And if you're not honest with yourself and others, then you're not being honourable, and how can you do honour to the gods if it's based on a lie? Because ultimately, doing the right thing is what counts; finding truth.
So then sometimes, with wanting to live up to those labels you've set upon yourself along with some high expectations, the focus comes to be on doing it right (whatever that means), and then thinking about doing it right instead of actually doing anything, just to make sure that you're going to be doing it right. Combine all that with the worry that those experiences, the thoughts and feelings that come with practice and exploring a relationship with the gods, might not be True because this is an area well out of the comfort zone of being able to Cite Your Sources: That maybe those thoughts and feelings are just what you want to hear, because it feels good to be validated sometimes, so you don't have to worry about whether or not you're just plain bonkers...Suddenly in amongst the mental jumble you've just made it all gets disconnected, the threads get lost. Maybe it's just me. Not that I tend to over-analyse or anything.
For the most part a healthy dose of Get A Grip sorts it all out, and that's something I've been working on. I do, but I don't overthink what I'm doing. I do research and find inspiration in it, rather than letting it restrict me too much by getting bogged down on the minute details (although I like exploring the minute details sometimes; the trick is making sure I don't get lost in them), and now I've got to the point where I have a rhythm of practise that takes me through each day, each season. I find that sharing what I do, and reading about what other people do also helps to keep things in perspective. Although recently I've come to realise I've been slipping into over-analysing again (or veering close to it, anyway). I realise I've been hesitating, stalling a little.
My practises are constantly evolving as I gain a better understanding of what I think reconstructionism is and how it shapes what I do; I enjoy the challenge and I find the results to be incredibly personal and meaningful. And as I do, and then think about what I've been doing, what I've experienced, I get an idea of what I still need to work on to gain a better balance in my practises. I'm not there yet (and probably just as I think I've got it I'll find I need something slightly different), but I've got to a point where I think I have the basics down, for now.
But just as I feel like I've dealt with the distractions of getting settled into a new house, somewhere I can put roots down, and a feeling of being on a firmer footing with what I'm doing here, something happens: A realisation, finding myself going off in a different and unexpected direction. And as much as it's been a good thing, part of me is left feeling all off-kilter again, like I'm just learning about all this and finding my way again. So I've gone back to feeling like I'm stumbling around in the dark a little - especially when it comes to how I see the gods and my relationship with them. At times they still feel so...nebulous. And no, I don't expect (or want) it all to be laid out in a how to manual before me: this is how you do it, this is what you should expect to happen, and this is how you know you're doing it right...But sometimes, when it's just you and Them, you start to wonder if you're really not just plain bonkers after all, especially when things don't quite go how you were expecting them to.
Just when I thought I was getting to grips with the attention of one particular goddess who seemed to be making herself known, it's all gone a bit unexpected. This winter, my first winter here, I've really been feeling like I've been making some sort of connection with the Cailleach, and given the season that all makes sense. No real surprise, and it's nice to know that I'm getting something right, it seems. Finally I'm starting to feel like I'm getting a proper footing with where I am and what I'm doing, and it all feels like it fits into this landscape and into the context of my practises. But then it gets a little confusing because my attention is drawn back to Badb and deep down I still really don't know where she fits in, but I know that she's there and she'll bide until I figure it out. I can't help but feel there's a reason for her prodding at me, and so far I haven't felt it's because I'm supposed to devote myself to her. Yet, perhaps, if ever. Whatever the future holds, there are some things I need to figure out before I get a complete picture of things, but as much as I've made some progress on finding answers, I've started to feel like I'd come to a bit of a dead end.
There've been a lot of good discussions about the place recently, here on lj and some of the lists, and combined with some questions somebody asked me, it's all put a few thoughts in motion. I was asked about how I saw things with Badb these days, and whether the sticking point for me in the past had been that she's not a goddess who 'lives' here, but in Ireland. Or whether it was the context, only a tenuous connection between there being a historical link with Badb and Scotland - as in, she could have been brought over here, but there's nothing I've seen to suggest an overt link.
I don't believe the gods are tied to a place in a literal, physical sense (solely, anyway), so I replied the latter, but that in my meanderings and somewhat tentative practises (at times, anyway, I'm still a little leery of this mysticism stuff, as I've said in the past), I'd come to realise that perhaps I was over-emphasising the differences between Ireland and Scotland rather than recognising their joint heritage. One thing that brought it all home to me is that I've been doing some writing and research about Bealltainn, and in comparing the Scottish and Irish practices the similarities are striking (but I digress...). And then there's the fact that I can't help but feel that there's some sort of connection between Badb and the Irish side of my heritage, which I've always felt a deep affection for (especially because it's through my nan's side of the family), and because Badb seems to have her origins in the area my family's from.
So then came the question, do you think that Badb's presence has anything to do with your nan's condition, given the ancestry angle? Hmm, I thought, maybe. Good question. I've been trying to work on the whole ancestry aspect of my practises because it's the one area I've been feeling I need to think about more, and express more in what I do. There's something about honouring my ancestors in general that I'm fine with in a non-specific way, but it's a different matter when I think about those I've known personally, so I feel I've been shying away from that side of things because I don't want to 'bother' them. Which is odd, really, but it's something I'm going to have to get over, and I'm working on it.
And if I consider all this, then I can't help but think that yes, maybe that's got something to do with finding how Badb fits in, because deep down I feel that there's a reason, something I haven't been getting. Maybe I need to learn more about my ancestors, and if that's the case then my nan's key to that because she's the genealogist in the family, and the more I'm confronted with the thought of losing my last living grandparent (and vaguely sane member of the family) the more I feel the need to be able to honour her properly when the time comes. Even though she'll probably hang around for another 20 years or so...
So it's all led up to a bit of an AHA! moment, because finally things are all starting to feel like it fits together. Connections are being made and a new direction has opened up, and it's all because of a handy label I stuck on myself, and a handy label that other people use too, that brought me to meet people who have given me a good shove in the right direction this time. Or so it seems. It seems to be the right way to go; "it feels good", but it also "feels Right". All in all, I can say I'm on step one. Now I just have to see if it works...
Thursday, 8 May 2008
Archive: On mysticism
I've had this post rolling around in my head for a week or so, but haven't quite been sure about what I've been wanting to say, exactly, or how to say it...So bear with me. I'll try and make it coherent. Honest.
Often I'm quite leery of the more 'mystical' sides to spirituality. It's difficult to get a firm hold of. It's not something that has checks and balances, a firm reference that says "this is where I got it from." My logical brain doesn't like this so much. From past experiences I know there's a lot of bullshit that gets passed off as 'mysticism', straight from the gods' mouth sort of stuff, and really it's not god-talking but ego-talking; personal issues being passed off as spiritual pointers for all and sundry to listen to and follow. So, as I said, I'm leery.
That said, my logical brain has a fuzzy sort of logic to it anyway, so it's not always the same sort of logic that everyone else comes up with at times...So my illogical brain tends to happily co-exist with my logical brain for the most part, and all is well. The experiences I have in my spiritual practices are real to me, and personal, but I'm becoming increasingly aware that there's a small part of me that's being too logical and getting in the way of actually experiencing my religion properly (for wont of a better word). I've been concentrating on doing so much, I'm beginning to wonder if I'm neglecting the actual living...I need to stop analysing so much.
This has all been brought home to me in the past few weeks or so. With my illogical brain, I believe in the idea that at times certain signs are communicated to us, for one reason or another. Usually these are natural signs, whether it's to do with how the moon looks on a particular night, the way the wind is blowing on a particular day, or which birds happen to be in my garden or outside as I go for a walk...Birds in particular, for me, give me pause for thought on this front, but my logical brain balks at the idea because it seems so cliched in some respects. My logical brain says, "Do you really think you're that speshul....And the crow thing...I mean really, couldn't you be a little bit original?"
My illogical brain, however, takes note of the fact that in the run up to Bealltainn, it seemed significant that I saw not just a fox for the first time since we moved, thin and scraggly, but a deer and a falcon...Then there's the crow that I mentioned at Bealltuinn, followed by the magpie that followed me about at the graveyard with seeming purpose, more crows and magpies abounding and then I heard an owl hooting during the day (always a bad sign, according to my incredibly superstitious nan). It all seems to be adding up to something being afoot, but I don't know what...something that's perhaps both good and bad, depending on your perspective. It seems easy for me to see the signs, but not necessarily read them (hindsight is a wonderful thing, though). I'm pissing in the wind, in effect, and I know this is where I need to go, but I'm not quite sure how to get there.
For once this seems to be a learning process that doesn't require books, and I'm actually kind of glad.
Often I'm quite leery of the more 'mystical' sides to spirituality. It's difficult to get a firm hold of. It's not something that has checks and balances, a firm reference that says "this is where I got it from." My logical brain doesn't like this so much. From past experiences I know there's a lot of bullshit that gets passed off as 'mysticism', straight from the gods' mouth sort of stuff, and really it's not god-talking but ego-talking; personal issues being passed off as spiritual pointers for all and sundry to listen to and follow. So, as I said, I'm leery.
That said, my logical brain has a fuzzy sort of logic to it anyway, so it's not always the same sort of logic that everyone else comes up with at times...So my illogical brain tends to happily co-exist with my logical brain for the most part, and all is well. The experiences I have in my spiritual practices are real to me, and personal, but I'm becoming increasingly aware that there's a small part of me that's being too logical and getting in the way of actually experiencing my religion properly (for wont of a better word). I've been concentrating on doing so much, I'm beginning to wonder if I'm neglecting the actual living...I need to stop analysing so much.
This has all been brought home to me in the past few weeks or so. With my illogical brain, I believe in the idea that at times certain signs are communicated to us, for one reason or another. Usually these are natural signs, whether it's to do with how the moon looks on a particular night, the way the wind is blowing on a particular day, or which birds happen to be in my garden or outside as I go for a walk...Birds in particular, for me, give me pause for thought on this front, but my logical brain balks at the idea because it seems so cliched in some respects. My logical brain says, "Do you really think you're that speshul....And the crow thing...I mean really, couldn't you be a little bit original?"
My illogical brain, however, takes note of the fact that in the run up to Bealltainn, it seemed significant that I saw not just a fox for the first time since we moved, thin and scraggly, but a deer and a falcon...Then there's the crow that I mentioned at Bealltuinn, followed by the magpie that followed me about at the graveyard with seeming purpose, more crows and magpies abounding and then I heard an owl hooting during the day (always a bad sign, according to my incredibly superstitious nan). It all seems to be adding up to something being afoot, but I don't know what...something that's perhaps both good and bad, depending on your perspective. It seems easy for me to see the signs, but not necessarily read them (hindsight is a wonderful thing, though). I'm pissing in the wind, in effect, and I know this is where I need to go, but I'm not quite sure how to get there.
For once this seems to be a learning process that doesn't require books, and I'm actually kind of glad.
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