Deity-Human Relationship Patterns

All relationships with the gods are founded on mutual respect, reciprocity, and hospitality. Generally, we can say yes or no to the gods when they approach us, but the same is also true for when we approach them. The gods are not obligated to accept our offerings. We are not obligated to serve the gods against our will (except in rare cases, which I’ll discuss later).

In general, there are four types of devotional relationship patterns for working with the gods.

The first relationship pattern is that of a devotee. Usually, a devotee makes offerings to the gods with whom they have relationships to sustain those relationships. When these offerings are made, how they are made, and what offerings are used depends on the tradition. This is the type of relationship that most practitioners have.

This is the level where most of my relationships with the gods I honor are at. This includes Thor, Tyr, Niorun, Freyja, Sigyn, Quetzalcoatl, Hermes Trismegistus, Bast, and Mani. This is the level that most deity-human relationships will always exist at, and that is perfectly acceptable and commendable.

Moving on, the second relationship pattern is that of an oathsworn devotee. This is generally a devotional relationship taken to the next level. Different commitments are required – essentially, a contract is entered into with a deity at this point. In exchange for doing X for said deity, Y is received.

That said, oathsworn relationships are dangerous, and you should not enter into them lightly, if at all. This is not a path for everyone – it is not safe at all. Because the gods have agency, they have their own plans, their own agenda, and they are not obligated to share it with us. Even if we are part of those plans, they do not have an obligation to share – we do not have a right to know their overall agenda. Their ways are not ours, and they will hold us to our oaths.

When an oathsworn relationship exists, that deity has a right to your time where and whenever they show up. They are priority #1 over everything else. The work they demand is hard, exacting, and often downright exhausting. This is not for the faint of heart. Do not swear an oath unless you know, with absolute certainty, that it’s the relationship that you’re meant to have with that god.

This is the type of relationship I have with one god, and one god only, and that is Odin. In exchange for the insight and wisdom his path offers, I do a very specific type of work for him. Generally, it is in the form of providing people with information about him and his path whenever the subject comes up in conversation or through other mediums of communication, like emails or comments on blog posts. In addition to that, though, he has told me before that the work I do for Loki is also the work I do for him. More on that later.

Moving on, the third type of relationship pattern is that of a godspouse, which may or may not be as demanding as an oathsworn relationship. It requires a strong commitment, as it is essentially the marriage to a god. The easiest example to demonstrate this is the commitment undertaken by Catholic nuns – they are the closest equivalent to godspouses in the Christian world. In this type of relationship, the god is your #1 priority, and devotions matter almost more (or more) than those to other gods. These are exceptionally rare relationships, and few people will ever have a chance to enter into one. The requirements of these relationships are often secret, as the work a person does in a godspouse relationship is highly personal, highly intimate, and, in general, no one else’s business.

The fourth type of relationship pattern is that of clergy. A priest serves a god in a ritual and/or communal capacity in the ways that the gods make clear. Clergy are devotees and generally don’t swear oaths to enter into the service of a god – some do, so there are exceptions to this.

There are different ways to be initiated as clergy. You can be trained through an official program, you can be called directly by a god, or you can be elected by your community to fulfill that role.

Most clergy members of polytheistic religions are willing and able to take on the role of priest for gods other than the one/s they primarily serve.

When it comes to this type of relationship, I hold it with two gods – Loki and Freyr. The way I became Loki’s priest was through a conversation I had with him one night where he asked if I was interested in a godpsouse relationship. I declined, as I did not feel that was the correct relationship for me, as I have always viewed him more as a big brother/best friend (sorta father figure) than as anything else. When I declined that relationship, he suggested I become his priest instead, and I agreed to that.

The work I do for him is varied and dynamic. I talk about him and his path via blog posts and in face-to-face conversations. I also established the Facebook group Loki’s Wyrdlings at his request that I build a community where Lokeans could feel safe to discuss their practices without being immediately harmed by the Heathens who still view Loki as an evil god and his devotees as evil. Adding to that, I established Loki University, which is an online school where people can learn about Loki and his path. Most recently, I established (alongside some other awesome Lokeans) a book collection called Loki’s Torch, and the first edition of that will be releasing in August. As you can tell, the work I do for Loki is not a light load. Being a priest rarely is.

In terms of my relationship with Freyr and serving as his priest, I actually approached him and asked him if he would be interested in me filling that role for him. If he had said no, I would have accepted it and moved on. He did not. My responsibilities to him are more ritually based than about community building, and all of the rituals I have facilitated for Freyr have been some of the most rewarding rituals I have ever done.

One of the requirements he has for rituals is that no one brings a weapon of any sort into the ritual space – from what I understand, this is fairly common among the Vanir deities. This is something I ensure when I facilitate rituals for him, and I am fairly certain this is why the rituals end up being so strong. The other work that I do for him involves astral work, which I am not comfortable discussing over the internet, as astral work is very dangerous for the untrained.

Now, when it comes to establishing relationships with the gods, there are specific types of people, and it is important to understand this in order to understand how relationships with the gods develop.

There are people who are god-touched, which means they are very attuned to the spirit world (or astral plane, whichever you prefer), and they are able to easily communicate with the gods and other spirits. Because of this, gods often seek these people out, as it is easier to form a relationship with someone you don’t have to scream at to get to pay attention.

There are also those who are god-called. Generally, these are the people who have had gods watching over them for their entire lives, just waiting for the moment when the person finally notices the god’s presence. At that point, a strong devotional relationship spontaneously develops.

I watched this happen with someone I had a conversation with about polytheistic practices and how polytheistic religions answers the question of why good things happen to bad people. About two days after that conversation, which lasted about six hours, the man came back to me and told me that the goddess Morana had come to him and he was working with her – after essentially telling me during the original conversation that he was an atheist. Basically, once he was made aware of the fact that there were religions outside of Abrahamic ones, Morana came forward and made her presence clear to him.

There are also people who are god-claimed. This can happen in a ritual, but it can also happen if someone dedicates a child to a god when they are born. This isn’t always an ethical practice by human standards (although the Christian rite of baptism suggests otherwise), but the gods do not ascribe to our morality. If you were dedicated to them, they have a right to you.

Undoing that kind of ritual dedication is extremely difficult, dangerous, and not recommended unless absolutely necessary. A claim can also be held by a god if you dedicate yourself to them as a thrall (or a slave). Few people do this, but some do, and they generally walk a fine line between sanity and madness. This is not a path I would recommend to anyone, and if you are considering it, I would suggest an alternative path unless there is no other choice.

As a note, because so many of us are raised in Christian environments and usually baptized against our will (as we are too young to properly give consent), it is almost always necessary to do a severance ritual once we have chosen a different religion. I was lucky that I was never baptized, as my parents believed that I needed to make that decision when I was old enough to make it for myself.

I did, however, see a friend struggle with their baptism into Christianity interfering with their ability to properly work with the Celtic gods that they had chosen to honor. She had to have a severance ritual performed so that the Celtic gods could more easily communicate with her without the Christian god’s claim on her interfering with those relationships.

So, if you are someone who has been baptized and find it difficult to communicate with the gods of the path that you have chosen, I highly suggest finding someone trained who can perform the severance ritual for you. While it is is possible to do such a ritual on your own, the cut is likely to be cleaner if you have someone else perform it for you, as they are outside the claim that the god holds on you. Like I said before, severance rituals are dangerous, and they should not be undertaken lightly.

Lastly, you have the type of people that I call god-stalked. Like the god-touched, these people can be sensitive to the spirit world – sometimes they aren’t. This is generally a person that a god has taken such a vested interest in that the god will absolutely not take no for an answer. That means there is no ritual, no request, no anything that will get this god to leave the person alone. It is an adapt or go insane scenario and, thankfully, exceedingly rare.

Most gods honor a yes or no, but, again, gods do not ascribe to human morality. They do not have to honor consent because there is no such concept for them. Relationships are generally more productive when they do honor our concept of consent, but the god-stalked do not have the luxury of saying no. The only real way to deal with being god-stalked is to give in and accept that the god will not take no for an answer.

I have seen this happen to a grand total of one person in the nearly 20 years I have been practicing, and the deity was the Morrigan. This was a pretty unique situation, however, as we did a large group ritual to the Morrigan, and the person opened the door to allow the Morrigan access to them. Once the Morrigan had that door opened, she did not allow it to close, despite the fact that the person on the other side of it was trying to slam it shut.

This is why it is incredibly important that you do not participate in rituals if you are not potentially okay with the deity being honored coming into your life on a more permanent basis. Our gods are not safe, and it is imperative that if you are walking a polytheistic path, that you acknowledge and accept the dangers that come with honoring gods that have their own agency and their own agendas.

We can have amazing relationships with our gods. They provide us with an astonishing wealth of gifts in our lives. The gods, however, are not unfeeling forces or archetypes, content to do nothing except what we wish they would do. No, they are hugely powerful forces and sentient beings with their own desires, their own emotions, and their own ideas. Relationships with the gods are almost aways intense, unique, and gratifying. That said, however, relationships with the gods are never safe.

©Kyaza 2019

The Difficulty with Pagan Taxonomies

Dividing the Pagan umbrella into different categories is a rather difficult thing to do, and many people have tried before me to do so. I have no intention of reinventing the wheel, and the combined version of Halsted and Beckett’s four pillars of Paganism work incredibly well.

In his Patheos article, “The Three (or more?) ‘Centers of Paganism,’” John Halstead attempted to divide Paganism into three broad categories. In his view, Paganism itself holds at least three – if not more – particular centers that a Pagan may focus on in their practice. The three approaches to Paganism he describes are “Earth-centric,” “Self-centric,” and “Deity-centric.”[1]

When Halstead speaks of Earth-centric Paganism, he denotes the difficulty with referring to religions as Earth-centric as “earth is a cultural construct and means different things to different people.” Instead of trying to define Earth, Halstead instead suggests that Earth-centric Pagans are those who focus primarily on ecological concerns and define their practice by their relationship to the natural environment.[2]

Though he refers to the second approach as “self-centric,” Halstead is careful to point out that he does not mean that Pagans that define themselves this way are inherently selfish but that they focus on the innermost Self that transcends the ego and the individual entirely. He states that “Self-centered Paganism includes Jungian Neopaganism, many forms of Wicca and feminist witchcraft, and more ceremonial or esoteric forms of Paganism.” Halstead suggests that a Pagan who falls into the “Self-centric” approach to Paganism use the practices of Paganism to facilitate their own individual growth.[3]

Halstead’s third category, “Deity-centric,” is one that he adopted from Janet Farrar and Gavin Bone, as he freely admits. He states that “Deity-centered Paganism includes many forms of polytheistic worship, many Reconstructionist or Revivalist forms of Paganism, including those which are closer to Heathenry, an those which borrow techniques from African-diasporic religions.” Halstead explains that those who take a Deity-centered approach to Paganism define their religion by their relationships to the gods.[4]

John Beckett, a member of the Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids, adopted Halstead’s centered approach in his first book, The Path of Paganism: An Experience-Based Guide to Modern Pagan Practice, although he added a fourth center – community.

However, he approached these centers differently from Halstead, who seemed to draw the three approaches as if they were completely separate from each other. In contrast, Beckett states, “These aren’t rings you’re either inside or outside of – these are poles you’re closer to or farther away from. Some Pagans are so close to one pole (center), they’re hugging them – they don’t care about the other three centers. Others are close to two to three or even all four centers.”[5]

Beckett explains that those who fall more into the community-centric approach are the Pagans who “find the divine within the family and the tribe – however they choose to define those groups.”[6] These are the Pagans whose practice is centered around the communities they live in, rather than being centered on the Earth, self-growth, or deity-relationships. It is important to remember, however, that any Pagan can take all of these approaches or only a few of them.[7]

Each one of those Pillars – Earth-centric, Self-centric, Deity-Centric, and Community-Centric – have their own subcategories. One of the most frequently made errors is when a person attempts to define Paganism as a set of Earth-based religions. While many religions that fall under the Pagan umbrella are Earth-centric, not all of them are, and this is a grievous error to make.

The other grievous error made by many, scholars included, is that Wicca and Neopagan religions are synonymous. In, A Community of Witches: Contemporary Neo-Paganism and Witchcraft in the United States, H.A. Berger quotes Andras Corban Athern as saying, “Neo-Pagans are just witches who haven’t come out of the broom closet yet.”[8]

Wicca, however, can be seen as an Earth-centric religion, as that is one of the central tenets of many – if not all – of the Wiccan traditions. For Wiccans, “The ‘Pagan’ element is emphasized in the form of worshipping nature and the Earth, with the consequent duty of the individual not to defile it by pollution and excessive usage of natural resources leading to their depletion.”[9] Many forms of Wicca can be seen as Earth-centric religions, so the connection between Wicca and Earth spirituality is an easy one to see.

The second pillar mentioned – Self-centric – applies mostly to Jungian archetypalism, although Halstead insists that some forms of ceremonial magic also belong in this category. The issue with that, however, is that magic is not religion. Religion can contain magical practices – in fact, many do. Magical traditions, however, rarely require the practitioner to follow any particular religious path and are entirely secular in nature. For more information about Jungian archetypalism, consult John Halstead’s blog, The Allergic Pagan, on Patheos.

The third pillar mentioned – Deity centric – is the one that I am most interested in focusing on here. Over the twenty years I’ve been practicing, I have seen a handful of different ways that Deity-centered Pagans related to the gods. These are my own personal demarcations based on years of observing people within the wider Pagan community.

In terms of how people relate to the gods, there are those who view the gods as either individual beings that possess their own agency (hard polytheists) or those who view the gods as all part of one singular overarching entity (soft polytheists). This demarcation can also be referred to as the one between Reconstructionists and Universalists.[10]

Nearly all of the Neopagan Reconstructionist religions hold Hard Polytheistic views. This includes Hellenismos and Heathenry – Greek and Norse – Reconstructionists. It also includes Solntsa Roshcha/Rodnovery, Slavic Reconstructionism.[11]

While Kemeticism – Egyptian Reconstructionism – holds hard polytheist views, it is NOT a Pagan religion, as it does not classify itself that way. The Kemetic Orthodoxy states: “While Kemetic Orthodoxy might be understood as a ‘Pagan’ religion in the context of the Roman Catholic Church, we do not currently classify ourselves as Pagan, as we neither follow the spiritual teachings of the Holy See, nor do our spiritual practices derive from the same sources, or even the general structure, of groups that currently refer to themselves as Pagan or Neo-Pagan. We do recognize ourselves as polytheists…”[12]

Because there are so many Reconstructionist religions in the world today, it is incredibly important to determine whether a religion you assume is Pagan classifies itself as Pagan. I see many people refer to practices such as Voodoo, Lucumi (Santeria), and the African Diasporic religions as Pagan – they are not. Voodoo is not a polytheistic religion either – it is monotheistic – and Lucumi and the other diasporic religions come from unbroken traditions. There is a lot of misunderstanding about the nature of African diasporic religions, and I highly encourage people to do more research into them. I took a class in my undergrad years on Afro-Atlantic Material Culture where we focused almost exclusively on discussing Yoruba, Santeria, and the Orishas, which is where my understanding of those religions originates.[13]

Within Heathenry, which is the main Reconstructionist religion I practice, I have noticed two very different approaches within the community. There are those I consider strict Reconstructionists who require everything to be done exactly as the lore says with no room for interpretation outside of it, and there are those who I consider recon-derived practitioners who use the lore as their foundation but allow room for personal gnosis and innovation.

Those who stick too closely to the lore, who cannot see past it, are those who I fear are stuck too much in the baggage of the monotheistic society of the United States. Abrahamic religions, Christianity included, are all “religions of the book.” Growing up in a society where the main religion is a book-based religion may make it more difficult for some within the Heathen community to allow themselves to move away from the books into a more substantial and rewarding relationship with the living gods.

When it comes to soft polytheism, there are really two versions – the Universalist approach as previously mentioned, and the Duotheistic approach that religions like Wicca use. Wicca holds that there are two main gods – the God and the Goddess – and that all gods exist within the God and all goddesses within the Goddess. Wiccans introduce a gender polarity that is not found in more traditional soft polytheistic (more properly called polymorphism) religions like Hinduism and Kemeticism (ah, but weren’t they hard polytheists? And thus, the confusion continues – some are, some aren’t).

Though I have never seen anyone else speculate on this, it is something that I have reflected on quite often. The United States is a monotheistic society, and Wicca is generally the first Pagan religion that religious seekers stumble upon if they end up pursuing the Pagan paths. Learning how to think like a polytheist is an incredibly challenging task when you are faced with the reality that your society is monotheistic and that has greatly impacted the way you think.

Wicca, to me, seems almost like a bridge across that gap. There are two gods rather than one, which allows a person to adjust to the idea of the divine being many rather than one. Then, once a person can think of there being two gods, they learn to think of a multiplicity of gods. That often – from what I have seen – leads people away from Wicca and to a more structured Reconstructionist religion. That isn’t always true – some people stay Wiccan forever, and some Wiccans adopt a hard polytheistic mindset.

That said, the community Pillar is the last one to discuss, and Beckett clearly stated that what he meant by community was whatever the person who focused on community defined it to be. For some Pagans, that may mean their immediate family. For others, it may mean their particular Pagan group or their friend group. For others, it may mean their online communities.

The reality of Paganism is that it is varied and diverse, and there is no way to cover all the potential subdivisions of each of the four pillars established by Halstead and Beckett. People define themselves using their own labels, which is what makes an attempt to classify people pretty much impossible from the outset. It is, therefore, of vital importance that we learn how people classify themselves and how the practitioners of a religion define that religion. Despite all our best intentions, the attempt to create a Pagan Taxonomy can never be complete – people are too complex to be classified.

Perhaps the real lesson we need to take away from all of this is the understanding that we group people in our own ways through our own experiences, rather than how they would classify themselves. There are people who view themselves as polytheists who I would argue do not fit that definition, but at the end of the day, who is right? Me, as the person attempting to force them away from a label they wish to use, or them, the person who may use the labels they choose as the stepping stones of the path in front of them?

That’s the danger of classification – we risk to lose too much by trying to force definitions on people who know themselves and what they mean by the labels they choose to wear than we can ever hope to gain. It is only in realizing that exercises like this – attempting to classify others – is something we do only for our own benefit, and the labels we choose for others are rarely the labels they would choose to wear.

[1] John Halstead, “The Three (or more?) ‘Centers of Paganism,” The Allergic Pagan, Patheos, May 23, 2012. https://www.patheos.com/blogs/allergicpagan/2012/05/23/the-three-or-more-centers-of-paganism/

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] John Beckett, The Path of Paganism: An Experience-Based Guide to Modern Pagan Practice, (Woodbury, MN: Llewellyn Publications, 2017), 36.

[6] Ibid, 48.

[7] Ibid, 48.

[8] Berger as quoted in Gary F. Jensen and Ashley Thompson,  “Out of the Broom Closet”: The Social Ecology of American Wicca,” Journal of the Scientific Study of Religion, Vol. 47, No 4 (Dec 2008): 755.

[9] Sam Cameron, “Wiccanomics?” Review of Social Economy, Vol. 63, No. 1 (March 2005): 92.

[10] Neokoroi, “Hard vs. Soft Polytheism,” Neokoroi: The Temple Keepers, 2003. http://www.neokoroi.org/religion/articles/hard-vs-soft-polytheism/

[11] Neokoroi, “Hard vs. Soft Polytheism,” Neokoroi: The Temple Keepers, 2003; BBC, “Heathenry,” BBC, 2003. https://www.bbc.co.uk/religion/religions/paganism/subdivisions/heathenry_1.shtml; Solntsa Roschcha, “What is Slavic Reconstructionism?” Solntsa Roschcha, https://solntsaroshcha.wordpress.com/

[12] Kemetic Orthodoxy, “Frequently Asked Questions,” Kemetic Orthodoxy, http://www.kemet.org/faq

[13] I spent many weeks in a classroom learning from Dr. Antonio Bly about these religions, so the only source I have for this information is the voluminous lecture notes I took in his classes.

© Kyaza 2019

Interpreting Sallustius: Part III

Chapter Four of Sallustius’s treatise, On the Gods and the Worlds, starts out with a straightforward assertion; he claims there are five types of fables – myths.

The treatise reads thusly:

Of fables, some are theological, others physical, others animistic, (or belonging to soul,) material, and lastly, others mixed from these.

The five types of myths then are

  1. Theological
  2. Physical
  3. Animistic/Psychical
  4. Material
  5. Mixed

Sallustius then states:

Fables are theological which employ nothing corporeal but speculate the very essences of the gods; such as the fable which asserts that Saturn devoured his children; for it obscurely intimates the nature of an intellectual god, since every intellect retuns to itself.

This is interesting, as it suggests that what a god consumes that god already contains and is. This also suggests the gods are forces because there is a metaphorical level implicit in the story of Saturn consuming his children – by consuming them, he reclaims his own intellect, which in turn reflects his nature as an intellectual god.

At this level of myth, the gods are not seen as having physical forms but being pure essence, pure force, and the myths of the gods reveal information about their individual essences.

Sallustius continues:

But we speculate fables physically when we speak concerning the energies of the gods about the world; as when considering Saturn the same as Time, and calling the parts of time the children of the universe, we assert that the children are devoured by their parents.

Basically, when we equate the gods to particular universal forces at work in the world, we are interpreting myth physically. Saturn – or Khronos – as Time. Loki or Prometheus as Fire. Hela or Hades as Death. Gaia or Njord as Earth. These are physical forces at work in the universe.

A deep perusal of the myths of any pantheon will reveal the forces each of the gods holds within them, which of the forces they control. Gods share dominion over different forces, else it would not be possible for both Prometheus and Loki to be Fire. What is most fascinating is that they are both Fire, but they are each Fire in a different way than the other – that might be something worth reflecting on.

Sallustius then says:

But we employ fables in an animistic mode when we contemplate the energies of the soul; because the intellections of our souls, though by a discursive energy they proceed into other things, yet abide in their parents.

Essentially, what the myths tell us about ourselves tells us more about the gods and the essence of the gods. This is another way to phrase that secret mystery – if you cannot find what you seek within, you will never find it without. This is that same mystery, wrapped in a different coat.

This is also the old maxim, as above, so below. The macrocosm and the microcosm reflect each other, so studying our own psyches reveals more to us about the psyches of the gods and studying the gods reveals more to us about ourselves.

This level of myth might be considered the beginning level for occult practitioners, as the evolution of self is the primary goal for most ceremonial magicians.

Moving on to the next level of myth, Sallustius says:

Lastly, fables are material, such as the Egyptians employ, considering and calling corporeal natures divinities; such as Isis, earth; Osiris, humidity; Typhon, heat; or again, denominating Saturn, water; Adonis, fruists; and Bacchus, wine. And indeed, to assert that these are dedicated to the gods, in the same manner as herbs, stones, and animals, is the part of wise men; but to call them gods is alone the province of mad men; unless we speak in the same manner as when, from established custom, we call the orb of the Sun and its rays the Sun itself.

Put concisely, Isis is the earth, but the earth itself is not a god. Osiris may be humidity, but humidity is not a god. Typhon may be heat, but heat is not a god.

In other words, this would be Sallustius’s answers to those who call archetypes gods. The gods can be archetypes – as in, Loki can be the trickster – but the archetypes cannot be a god. Therefore, Trickster is not a god but a construct that a god can embody when they choose to do so.

It’s interesting to see that Sallustius had an answer to the question only recently posed by archetypalists in the last twenty years back in the days of ancient Greece. He called those who would refer to the Sun itself as a god “mad men,” so it seems fairly clear that he would have no love for those who prefer to follow the Jungian style of polytheism many archetypalists of today adhere to.

Moving on to the final level of myth, Sallustius states:

But we may perceive the mixed kind of fables, as well in many other particular, as in the fable which relates, that Discord at a banquet of the gods threw a golden apple, and that a dispute about it arising among the goddesses, they were sent by Jupiter to take the judgment of Paris, who, charmed with the beauty of Venus, gave her the apple in preference to the rest.

For in this fable the banquet denotes the supermundane powers of the gods; and on this account they subsist in conjunction with each other; but the golden apple denotes the world, which, on account of its composition from contrary natures, is not improperly said to be thrown by Discord, or strife. But again, since different gifts are imparted to the world by different gods, they appear to contest with each for the apple. And a soul living according to sense, (for this is Paris) not perceiving other powers in the universe, asserts that the contended apple subsists alone through the beauty of Venus.

This is a great example of a mixed myth, and Sallustius does an excellent job of explaining it.

Discord throws a golden apple that causes a fight among the goddesses, resulting in them being brought before Jupiter for judgment. Jupiter turns the case over to Paris, who declares that Venus holds the ownership of the apple.

If the banquet represents the supermundane powers of the gods, and the apple the world, then the fight the goddesses are having is over which of the gods can be said to give the gift of the world. It is not as simple as fighting over an apple.

None of the myths are simple. All of them are heavy and laden with meaning. That is why it is so important that we read each and every myth carefully and several times, analyzing it further with each read.

The secrets of the gods are hidden in the myths – all we have to do is open our minds to the incredible richness of possibility in their interpretations.

*Note: While there are 21 chapters in the treatise, the first 3 chapters are the ones I find most relevant, so this particular series ends here. I highly suggest that those who are interested in reading further read the rest of the treatise for themselves, as it is free online. 

Sources

Sallustius. “On the Gods and the World.”

©Kyaza 2019

The Quest I Didn’t Know I Was On

All of my pagan life, I’ve been on a Quest. Not just a quest, but a QUEST. One of those big journeys that is supposed to culminate in some huge lesson, similar to the Quests that knights would go on in the old tales. Quest for the Grail and all that.

Strange right? I mean, I didn’t even know it was happening at first. I just studied wherever and whatever my heart led me to. I didn’t really have any goals in mind, any one thing that I was supposed to be learning. I just went where my heart led me.

It wasn’t until recently that it all began to come together. We’re not talking about a couple years of searching though. I mean, twenty years is a long time to be searching for something you didn’t even know you were searching for.

But that’s what happened…  Let me back up and explain a little of this journey…

I became pagan at the young age of 12. Yup, 12 years old. And yes, I knew what that meant then. I was the only one I knew, sort of. See, my grandmother was really New Age. As far as I know, she was Christian (at least nominally). Yet she had her own deck of Tarot cards (Rider-Waite) and a bag of runes. I remember sitting there somewhere between 10 and 11 years old, and playing with them. I read the little books, and tried to figure out what they meant, but just couldn’t grasp it at that point (it honestly took me years to be able to read Tarot, and I’m still only beginning my journey with runes).

After watching my efforts, my grandmother took me to the local bookstore she frequently haunted and let me roam the shelves of the New Age section. Nestles tightly between books on angels and crystals were spell books and books on REAL TRUE WITCHCRAFT!!!  Imagine the shock that went through my young mind to learn that witches were real! It was hands-down that most eye-opening moment of my life. I never struggled with the thought. Instead I embraced it, and began down the road that led me to this moment in my Quest.

At the age of 19, I began to study in earnest. I was finally able to understand what I was reading and I read everything I could. As it was the only word I knew, I called myself Wiccan, even knowing that it wasn’t the right word for what I did. More often than not, it was just Pagan, even though I was regularly having to explain what that was. It wasn’t a word that most people knew then. The internet was still a baby at that point, and shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Charmed were just beginning their foray into the wonderful world of witchcraft.

Moving forward a few years, I was in university and my studies there led me into the Arthurian tales, as well as myth cycles such as Y Mabinogi. I didn’t then realize what an impact they would have on me. One tale led to the next, which led to some historical work, and eventually led me to the edges of Druidry. Along the way, I was still studying magick, but I was becoming more and more disenchanted with it. Something was missing…

That search for the missing whatever it was became a search for my “real” spiritual path. I explored so many things, among them Heathenry, Druidry, Irish Celtic, Kemetic, and an Avalonian Tradition. None of them was right for me in it’s entirety, although I learned a lot from them. I learned more about who I’m not than I did about who I am, which led me into a deeper confusion. I was searching in earnest now, but still didn’t know what I was searching for.

All this searching was leading me into a crisis of faith. I mean, if I couldn’t find my right path, how could I truly call myself pagan in any way? I realize that that question doesn’t exactly make a lot of sense, but it’s how I was feeling. My entire identity had become wrapped up in who I was spiritually.

A decade of searching led me down many paths, none of them what I truly needed. I finally gave up. I started coming to terms with the thought that I would always have this really, REALLY, eclectic practice. I felt incredibly alone, like no one would ever understand how I felt and what I was looking for. After all, I didn’t know myself.

It took some time, but I was finally able to just relax and accept that my practice was really different from the rest of the pagans I knew. I knew that in the end, it didn’t really matter, as long as my practice, such as it was, meant something to me.

Then lightning struck…

I came to realize that my faith matched up with my Arthurian studies from so long ago. What I had begun then was the forerunner of where I was to end up. Suddenly, everything began to make sense to me in a new way. It was like putting together a puzzle face down, and then turning it the right way and seeing the whole picture! I had the answers all along, I just didn’t see it!

My path is in search of Awen, which is the Welsh word for divine inspiration. You see, in my mundane life, I am a writer. Not just here, but in multiple places. I recently had a book of poetry published and am currently working on two new ones. I was so close to my spiritual path with my writing that I couldn’t see it.

I work now primarily with Welsh deities, although it’s still very new to me. The words, the language, the myths, I am taking baby steps down this path, soaking it all in bit by bit. The term for the path, for those who are like me and like labels to define things, is Awenydd. Those who seek Awen, and strive to bring it into every day life, who work with the gods and spirits of Brythonic culture, attempting to bring them forward again.

I have found more peace within myself since coming to realize that the signs have always been there. I will continue to work with the gods I’ve already established relationships with, but now my Quest has become more pressing than ever. I feel like I am 12 years old again, reaching for those books that taught me about this world in new ways. I have come full circle, and move now into a new journey.

©Lauren Michelle 2019

Confidence in Paganism

I have a huge list of topics I want to cover, but decided to start with one not on my list: confidence in paganism.

It seems to be a common refrain as of late…  “Well, they all know so much more than me.” “I don’t feel like I have anything to contribute to the conversation.” I struggled with the same thoughts, before signing on to write this column. It was a lot of “who am I to think that anyone wants to hear what I have to say?” in various forms.

This is why I decided to cover this first. It seems to be a prevalent attitude that we don’t have anything of value to add, so why should we try? It’s not something that is restricted to paganism, of course, but due to the fact that it’s the community that I am the most involved in, it’s where I see this the most.

Even a friend of mine, who recently went on a retreat felt the same way. She hadn’t met any of the other participants in any way other than through their online community before she went. Upon getting there, she spent most of her time listening to everyone talk, rather than saying her piece as well, as she felt that everyone else there had way more experience than her.

Well, I am here to tell you….  SO WHAT???

Yes, okay, maybe some people have more time as pagans. Maybe some people have spend more time in study, or have a more active practice than you. Since when does that really matter?

Each of us grew up in a unique set of circumstances specific to us. Each of us comes to the table with something new to offer, even when we don’t think so. We all have different experiences, different views, different methods. It’s a big part of what makes our community so great! We all come here from different places and it adds strength to the community.

Don’t be afraid to speak up. Don’t be afraid to add in your two cents! You always have something of value to add to the conversation. And who knows, maybe, just maybe, what you have to say will actually help someone else…  It can open the eyes of everyone else there…

I struggled with this. I really did. “What if no one wants to read my posts?” “What if my writing style isn’t good enough?” What if, what if, what if….

Finally, I told that inner voice where to go. I decided to go ahead and do this, because I can. Because I want to. Because I have a unique voice, and lots to say.

Paganism prides itself, as a whole, on our ability to bring unique thoughts to our practices. The most common label I see is “eclectic.” We all have some element of personalization to what we do. Each of us has to find a way to fit our practice into our lives, and we have that experience to share. We may all read the same books, blogs, or websites, and be a part of the same groups on social media, but we still bring an element of ourselves to what we do.

What better way to see that than to share our experiences? We all bring something new to the table. It doesn’t matter if you’ve got years, months, or only days of it. What matters is that we keep contributing to the community. That we keep adding our voices. That is the way to the strongest community we can create.

©Lauren Michelle 2019

How I Got Here

All great journeys have a beginning.

Ever since I can remember I have been fascinated with religion and spirituality. With what people believed and how that belief influenced their lives. I began my spiritual life as a nominal Christian from which point I moved onto to Wicca, then more generic Paganism and finally back to Wicca before discovering Kemetic Orthodoxy. I’ve always been the type of person to ask questions and want to learn more, to have my current understanding questioned and changed based on evidence. I left Christianity because it stopped making sense to me, though I love the fellowship aspect it can have.

Being Pagan helped me to explore my faith freely but I needed a bit more structure in my spirituality. My experience with Wicca was absolutely wonderful and I love its emphasis on balance. Unfortunately, I often didn’t see that balance play out as it was described. It often seemed to me that books on Wicca tend to devote multiple chapters the religion’s concept of the Feminine Divine (The Goddess) with a paragraph on the Masculine Divine (The God) tacked on the end. I want to make it clear before I go further that it isn’t my intent to convince others how they must believe, frankly I have no interest in the idea. Rather it seemed to me that perhaps there was an important aspect of my beliefs that were not being served by the broader Wiccan community.

Throughout my long and at time tumultuous travel through my own faith there has always been one constant: my pull towards Ancient Egypt and its gods. I wish I could provide a better answer as to why that is, I really do. The truth is though that I have no idea why these unbelievably ancient, vast deities decided to pluck me out of my spiritual confusion and fireman carry me into Kemeticism. Even from the days of my childhood, I remember spending hours under the open skies rambling innocent prayers to Ra as I daydreamed.

For many years I found myself wandering through the sea of Paganism ungrounded and unbalanced. “I’m eclectic” I would announce to myself with a forced finality I most certainly didn’t feel. An eclectic path is valid of course, powerful and meaningful for the person who walks it. It just wasn’t for me. I would look to the sky when the lightning struck, utterly moved by the power and sentience I felt in it and I would be moved to prayer and adoration. But to Whom? Lists of storm deities from pantheons across the planet would scroll through my head like some kind of high school power point presentation. But it didn’t feel passionate, alive, from the heart. Something inside of me needed to know for sure: Who am I praying to? Whose power am I acknowledging? 

At the same time, I continued to struggle with my Wiccan practice. I loved The Goddess with all my heart but the same could be said of The God. Seeing Father Nature essentially ignored in mainstream Wicca was deeply saddening to me. As someone who met The Antlered King long before coming to face The Great Mother, I felt a primal need to worship Him as Her equal. I began to seriously reevaluate my spiritual life, do I really belong in this community? Do I really fit? As I wrestled with my beliefs I found myself coming closer to the Egyptian gods or Netjeru. They felt so familiar and comforting, so utterly alive. Embracing Them came easy because They felt like home.

In those early days of walking this path I completely submerged myself in all of the information I could find, delighting in learning more about these gods that felt like family and the people that worship Them. I’ll admit my Wiccan practice found itself parked to the side as I tried to figure out just who I was. I actually went back and forth quite a bit: Am I Wiccan with Egyptian gods? Am I wholly Kemetic? Which do I choose? My heart ached at the idea of leaving Wicca behind but my soul could not tolerate the prospect of turning my back on my newly found Kemeticism. That’s when I finally started to figure things out.

It probably seems obvious to anyone reading this now but at the time it hadn’t yet occurred to me. As I thought and searched and questioned it slowly dawned on me that the only one who expected me to “pick a side” was myself. Why should I choose between the old friend that has always been by my side or the destiny that I was in some way returning to? My journey as a dual-trad Polytheist has helped me to accept and understand myself and the differences (as well as similarities and fellowship) between my beliefs and others. I no longer feel a strange sadness, the odd feeling of something being missing in my spiritual life. It isn’t always pretty or easy to manage the two halves of my path but then, polytheism itself isn’t always simple or easy either.

©Terra Akhert 2019

#GlowUpChallenge

52491588_10211348469341623_4571024274545967104_nPutting a name to myself has always been difficult for me because I have a habit of throwing the rules away before even opening the manual. Religion to me doesn’t have structure- doesn’t need it unless you do, and I don’t. So after growing up Baptist, having a brief stint in the Wiccan path, and jumping back onto the Baptist bandwagon, I finally found a community in college where I could explore what it was I actually believed.

Paganism and witchcraft has always settled well with my soul, but after the aforementioned stint with some Wiccan friends, I knew I didn’t want the structure that came with that kind of practice. You see, I’ve never done well with absolutes. (All the, “You have to cast a circle before-” “Always call the corners before-” “Don’t ever blow out a candle or-“) I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a lazy-ass witch. I don’t have a lot of time for the formalities and when I do, I’m too tired or low on spoons to do them. If that’s what helps you, then great! But for me, I’ve never felt like my gods needed- or wanted- the stress and anxiety that tends to follow me around when I try to follow the rules. (Perhaps that’s why Loki has taken such a liking to me. I prefer the chaos in my practice rather than the stuffy textbook must-do’s.)

So my practice became a big scrapbook of different traditions and beliefs that suited me the best, things that I liked and enjoyed and felt within my bones. For me, simply lighting some candles and welcoming my gods was enough to start the fun. I didn’t need a circle or the corners or the fancy crystals in each direction. Not to mention the fact that my memory is shit and I couldn’t have memorized all the fancy rhymes and phrases the books tell you to say aloud anyway.

As for my gods? I don’t really remember how they all found me. I don’t have cool stories about visions or dreams or crows following me around. Or if I do, I can’t remember them. I’ve been fascinated with mythology since I was able to read, so it’s no surprise that my practice would find it’s way in that direction. As much as I know a lot of Lokeans hate to hear it, I do believe Loki first came to me as a ‘god’ through Marvel. I’d heard of him before of course, read some of the stories. But I never really got interested until I was sucked into the nerd life that is comic books. (And let me get this out of the way now. No, I do not worship Tom Hiddleston, though I will freely admit that I do worship dat ass. No, I do not think Tom Hiddleston is Loki.) I think Tom’s interpretation was basically Loki’s way of poking me in the cheek to get my attention. Like, “hey bitch, I’m right here, look at me!” And quite frankly, I’ve never looked back. Hades and Persephone were less obvious. I’ve loved their story for as long as I’ve known about Greek mythology and it just seemed to fall into place. It just seemed right.

Sure, sometimes I’m a bit sad that I didn’t get a big reveal or a big sign to tell cool stories about. But you know, I don’t think I ever really needed one. All my life religion has been shoved in my face with people telling me what I had to believe and that if I didn’t, I’d suffer for it. So having that choice, being able to look for myself and see someone looking back? Well that was exactly what I needed and I don’t think I’d change it for the world.

So here I am today, still flailing around like I know what I’m doing while I pretend that, yes the wax was supposed to drip there and no it wasn’t a complete accident. I’m still learning, I don’t think I’ll ever really stop, but that’s the beauty of it all. Opinions and beliefs change and grow as you do and I think that’s wonderful. Taking that journey with my gods and my spirits and my beliefs is exciting and new, as long as I get to do it my way. And I hope with this blog, I’ll be able to help others find what works for them while still sharing what works for me.

So let’s stop bitchin’ and get to witchin’, my little fools.

– Val

©Valfreyja 2019