There is so much good stuff in this post, it’s hard to single any particular statement out. There are important reminders here that those of us who are god-touched are not necessarily more special, more loved, or more fortunate in life than other pagans (in fact, depending on the deity, you could find it making your life a lot harder than it would otherwise have been). However, the thing that really resonated the most for me–and the reason I’m reblogging this–is Elizabeth’s thoughts on community. I too have become very disheartened by the polytheist/pagan community recently, in particular because of all of the infighting, and she raises some very good points about how utterly pointless and counterproductive all of that is. I have tried not to get pulled into this last round because it always ends up being a huge time-suck for me, taking time away from all of the actually important projects on my plate, and leaving me with bad feelings about everyone concerned. I’ve been guilty of making snide remarks and throwaway derisive comments from time to time too, though I’m trying to prune that tendency in myself, but withdrawing into my own little box and giving up on community is not the answer either. Recently I did a business-oriented exercise that asked what legacy you would like to leave the world with after you’ve moved on from this plane. That really got me thinking. To think of it in fiber-related terms, would I rather help weave a beautiful fabric, or would I rather be one of the ones who sits there cutting that fabric apart, and shredding everyone else’s work. There is no question in my mind that I would rather it be the former than the latter, so I need to be more conscious of that as I go forward into this next year. Let the weaving begin.
“Abolish all doubt and what’s left is not faith, but an absolute heartless conviction; you are certain that you possess the truth, inevitably offered with a capital T, and certainty evolves in turn into an overweaning pride at being so very right.”
This is a mesmerizing 20 minute talk by an agnostic Jewish biographer of Mohammed in which she discusses his first reaction to what he experienced on the mountaintop: absolute, stark terror, and how that transmuted into a faith that changed both his life and world history. Her rant about how we’ve abandoned all of the world’s major faiths to the fundamentalists is the main reason why I won’t stop blogging on spiritual subjects, no matter how often I’m tempted to throw in the towel.
My next upcoming oracular session will be held on the evening of Monday, June 17th.
This year I have made several changes in the process for submitting a question, so please read this page and make sure you understand the changes and the new information before sending me a request for an oracle, as if you do not follow the new guidelines your question/s will be rejected. This is not for the purpose of being a hardass, but to make it possible for me to offer you the extra sessions I have added (11 this year as opposed to the 5 I held in 2012). And if you can do so at all, please do consider donating this year, to help support my devotional practice, if you submit a question. It is still not required, but I am working fewer hours now due to chronic health problems (I am “invisibly ill”) so it is always appreciated!
Reblogging this not only because it’s a fabulous affidavit for my handspun yarn (thank you, Heather!) but because she brings up important points about the essence of Making, which is the art of bringing things into manifestation that did not exist previously in the physical realm, and traditional crafts as a link to the ancestors. This has been one of the most compelling things about hand spinning for me: the fact that I can feel the unbroken thread (pun intended) stretching back through time connecting me to all of the women who have ever spun. This is a very, very long thread indeed, and some of the women have never been mortal. I also knit, and I plan to take up embroidery at some point in honor of Anne, who was a talented needle worker, but spinning is the craft that calls to me most powerfully, perhaps because spinning is the act of collecting the filaments of potential, smoothing and drafting them, and twisting them into something strong and durable. It is Wyrdworking.