Where Have All The Pagans Gone?

Where have all the actual pagans gone? Not the universalists. Not the its-all-the-same-mountain-ists, but the Actual Pagans™?

Where are the dirt worshipping heathens?
Who lights the bonfires anymore? 

Who beats the drum by moonlight? 

Who spills ale or mead or wine for the ancestors and the spirits of the trees? 

Who really crosses the hedge, not just claims it for ego and praise? 

Who slips inside the world through the roots deep underground? 

Who whistles up the wind anymore? 

Who rides the brooms and pitchforks among the clouds and the stars to the Meadow? 

Who takes up the runes, roaring?

Who dances the ring-dances and guises the People of Fur and Feather? 

Where are the shapeshifters? 

Who still has a fire in their head? 

Anyone? Anyone???

Weather Work

I live on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. It is a great place to live, for the most part. An hour from New Orleans, a little more than that to Mobile. There is a quaint charm to my small town, and the French colonial culture still lingers, lending a rich history. The weather is pretty darn great, too. We have long summers to enjoy our beaches, ample rainfall without usually getting drowned out, and mild short winters. There are no blizzards. There are no mudslides. There are no earthquakes, volcanoes or tsunamis. Tornados typically do not form here in the 3 mile wide strip of land south of Interstate 10. But we do have hurricanes.

Back in 2005, we had the mother of all hurricanes come through. Katrina. That name will forever haunt an entire generation of coastians. You see, New Orleans may have gotten the coverage because their levies broke an hour after the storm had passed, but they were 40 miles from the eye of the storm, on its weaker west side, while my town was 20 miles from the eye on the stronger east side of the storm. So I know a thing or two about what weather is capable of doing.

One aspect of any "magical" path that is mentioned often is the ability to influence the weather. From the witches of Europe, to the shamans of Siberia and the medicine men of Native America, the ability to influence the weather for good or ill has been a common feature of sorcerers, magicians and shamans the world over.

We don't live in a vacuum. Everything we do, everything, has consequences, both good and bad, and this applies to our physical actions (and inactions) just as much as our "magical" ones. Our responsibility when working with the weather comes foremost in trying our best to determine what effect we will have on not only our community but also adjacent communities and indeed, the entire world.

With this in mind, one must think long and hard about performing weather work, and only doing so in situations of true need. But the responsibility does not end there.

While it should go without saying that to push a storm away from you and yours is unethical because it will mean pushing it towards others, I'd like to tell you about another unethical practice. I remember many years ago, when another hurricane threatened our shores, that one group of practitioners, and I don't remember if they were wiccans or druids or what they called themselves, decided for all the community that they felt *we* could handle the storm better than the Florida community to which the storm was apparently headed, so what did they do? They performed a rite to draw the storm to us! Thankfully, most practitioners were working to weaken the storm, so when it did arrive on our beaches it was not so strong.

Hurricanes are needed. They provide a release for the energies building up in the world's oceans. Without this release, things could get much worse. Hurricanes also bring much needed rain to land and they also help to cool the blistering summer in many places. These things are needed.

We should not try to avert weather conditions, in my opinion, unless lives are at stake, and I don't just mean human lives. We might save a human, and in the process kill thousands of marine and land plants and animals. If you think that won't create a debt for you, my personal belief is that you are sorely mistaken.

This past weekend we had another small storm come through, tropical storm Karen. I saw the usual rhyming spell passed around asking for the storm to be weakened, but I have recently been working more animistically on purpose, so I thought I'd take another approach.

The fox is an amazing animal, and it has much to teach one who would be open to receive its wisdom. Even studying the physical habits of animals will yield much wisdom that can be applied to one's daily life, as well as to one's spiritual practice. One thing the fox is known for is creating caches of food to save for later. Their stomachs are not very large compared to the rest of their body, so they kill or scavenge food and hide it, to return to it later when they have less luck.

I decided to utilize this to my advantage and at the same time, try to weaken the storm. After speaking to the spirit of the storm and asking to have some of its energy, I asked fox to nip away bits of the storm's energy and save it for later, to cache the bits away safely so that we could have use of them later. After the storm I did a divination to see how many caches of power she had acquired, and how powerful they were, and I am very pleased with the results.

You will never hear me being so pompous as to say that I am the reason the storm weakened before it came ashore, but I do feel that I contributed in some small part to make it safer for everyone, while also allowing the storm to take its course and expend its energy, while not taking too much.

How Speaks The Wind?

How speaks the wind, what doth it bring?

A beached fish gasp, in terror spent?

Its mind a ball of tangled string,

For fear and dread shall ne’er relent.

Or speaks it thus; an ancient knowing?

Like a stone upon a field of war,

Where men died, grain they now are sowing,

And banshee’s cry is heard no more.

Perhaps it whispers like a lover

To calm the soul with passion’s fire

Upon the skin, caress of clover

Aching dance of heart’s desire

For me, the wind a strange friend be

And I, too, stranger become

Full sails, slipping ‘pon the sea

Forever bound for home…

~Christopher Crittenden

My Inspirations and Training

I have been an animist for as long as I can remember.  I remember always feeling as though animals and plants, trees and rocks, cars and televisions could all understand me when I spoke to them, and could communicate back to me in their own ways.  My first experiences that I can remember happened during and shortly after I became extremely ill with strep throat for the first time of what would be two to three times a year, every year, from the age of 5 to the age of 15.  That first time, my fever spiked to 103, and I was delirious for some days.

I remember when I was very young, just after learning to read, sneaking the Encyclopedia Brittanica into my bedroom at night to read about the ancient Gods, without anyone ever having told me about them, much less telling me their stories or myths.  I would pray to them in the only way I knew how, on my knees by the bed.  My, how times have changed!

I began to identify as Wiccan at the age of 12, when I stumbled upon Buckland's Complete Book of Witchcraft while looking for role playing game books. The "New Age" section in Waldenbooks in the mall was right next to the role playing game section, and the cover caught my eye.  I immediately devoured it, eager to know more, and excited that there were actually others who felt like I did.  About this time I began to attempt meditation and trance work, through whatever methods I could find.  It was also about this time, when I began to have purposeful Otherworldly journeying experiences, that my 2 to 3 times yearly strep throat bouts ceased.

At age twenty, I became the de facto high priest of a coven (because I was the only male in the group at the time I joined) that saw many people come and go over the years.  The high priestess was like a second mother to me, and I learned a lot from her, about magic and about life. Ours was an eclectic group, and everyone seemed to have their own path, while also being able to find a common ground for a group practice.

  Since then, I have explored many different paths, from Buddhism and Hinduism, to Traditional Witchcraft, Celtic Reconstructionism, Druidry, Asatru, Religio Romana, Hellenismos, and Graeco-Egyptian Hellenistic practice. I am a member, or a past member, of various organizations such as the Troth, the Ancient Order of Druids in America (AODA) (1st degree),  Ar nDraiocht Fein (ADF) (Dedicant program completed), the Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids (OBOD) (Druid Grade completed), Hellenion, Res Publica Romana, and the Society for Shamanic Practitioners.  I have also studied the journeying and extraction healing methods of core shamanism with Micheal Harner's Foundation for Shamanic Studies, after having read and put into practice his seminal book The Way of the Shaman years ago. 

Don't Forget The Hoop

Being a pagan immersed in British Isles lore, I have had to answer the question of the use of animal parts such as fur, hide, and bone.  Many feel that it is not ethical today to use such things in a practice that aims for healing and wholeness.

I have my own reasons why I continue to use animal parts, and this article, linked below, by a traditional drum maker highlights some of them.  I happen to have a synthetic drum, owing mainly to circumstance more than the ability to choose at the time, and my drum and I have been on many an adventure together, but I stand by the idea that animal parts can be and are used today in an ethical manner by many people worldwide.

Personally, I feel that the idea that there is *no* ethical way to use animal parts, is to denigrate my ancestors, their struggles, their wisdom, and their capabilities to balance the worlds of Life and Death, of the Seen and the Unseen, and I refuse to do that.  Some give me the argument that just because our ancestors did something, that doesn't mean we have to continue to do it.  It actually amazes me how often I hear this, as though the person thinks they are the first person ever to have the opportunity to tell me this, as though I've never heard it before, but I would rather follow the ways of my ancestors as closely as I am able, rather than have tons of fossil fuels burned on my behalf to bring vegetables to me out of season from the other side of the planet.

I also find that those of European descent from industrial Western cultures seem to be chastised for using natural hide skins for their drums and other ritual items more often than other ethnic groups, which could be taken as indicating some racism, because if white people "should know better" then shouldn't everyone else? If other ethnic groups get a free pass because they "don't know better" then that is both racist and well as insulting to their ancestral wisdom. If they get a free pass because of tradition, then that is yet another attempt at both romanticizing their culture, putting them in the "noble savage" role, as well as denying European-descended peoples their own ancestral, cultural traditions as shown in the archaeological record.

In the article linked below, the author requests of us, "don't forget the hoop".  Don't forget the circle of Life and Death.  Please take a moment to read the article. I also ask that you, now and in your daily life, not forget the hoop.  Ask yourself *exactly* from where come all the things that you use.  Are your shoes made of fake leather, manufactured from petroleum?  How many animals suffered a loss of habitat for you to acquire those synthetic shoes, shirts, belts, CD's and CD cases, strawberries out of season, etc.?  Find your balance. Be a guide, but be one without blame or judgment. Let others find their balance.  Get out of their way, because you can't force your balance onto another.  It just doesn't work that way.

Ethics of Hide Drums

The Truth of The Deathless and the Sacrifice of Life to Life

Life is a web, forever weaving and dynamic, not a mountain with a peak. Consciousness is a sphere, with all points equidistant to the center, not allotted more to some and less to others like some cosmic pyramid scheme. All things are alive, because all things are conscious. All things are conscious because consciousness pervades all things, and does so equally. All things are beings.

In all of Nature, life is taken to preserve life, all life is sacred, and all life is equal. All life is equally precious. All. From the largest of animals, to every person, down to every blade of grass and pebble and grain of sand, all life yearns to live. So should we all conceive of it. Such should be our perception as well.

This speaks to a great responsibility placed upon what we choose to birth into existence. Does that idea benefit life, or does it encourage needless death or suffering? Does that organization promote the good for all of life, not just for some individuals? Does that piece of plastic really need to be created?

When you can feel the loss, and the awe of the sacred immensity resounding in the depths of your soul, at the death of the tiniest green growing thing as much as you feel it for a human life or that of an animal, and when you can feel the certainty of the debt to life thus created, then you will only have begun to perceive the truth of the oneness of things, and the sacred equality of which I speak.

Understood this way, every moment becomes a sacred moment, with no escape into the "ordinary" to be possible, no escape to the belief that this-and-such a moment is profane and only that-and-such a moment is sacred, and every death becomes a sacred sacrifice and a promise to return a gift fully given. What will that sacrifice call forth for you?

Do the implications of this make you uncomfortable? Does your discomfort make it less true, just to make you feel better?

Fox Walking

Fox-walking.

The first time I heard this phrase, I was intrigued, as you may imagine given the name of this blog.  I was reading Tom Cowan's blog, Riverdrum, where he mentions it.  This is what he has to say:

"Fox-walking is a term for stalking in which you move extremely slow, I repeat extremely slow. You put your foot down on its outer edge and roll it over onto the ball of your foot, and lower your heel. You cannot walk fast doing this. This is more extreme than slow-motion scenes in movies. It will take perhaps five times as long to go wherever you're going to compare to your usual pace. But it is truly ecstatic. You're hardly moving so you feel like just another thing in the forest. Birds don't see you coming and fly away. Chipmunks don't bat an eye. And you notice everything. You see everything partly because you're spending so much time at each step you take, but also because you don't have to look down at the ground. When you Fox-walk, your foot feels the roots or rocks or dips on the earth, and you adjust your step accordingly. Fox-walking frees you up to keep your attention on the 180° scene in front of you. You can spend a lot of time looking at what ever you see."

So, of course, I had to give it a go. What I immediately noticed was that I am not nearly the ninja I thought I was when I was younger.  Eventually, once I figured out that I needed to open myself so that energy flowed into me rather than concentrating so much on noticing as much as I could that I was pumping energy out of me, the animals and birds no longer flew from my presence.

Once I became calm and open to the energies and consciousnesses around me, I immediately became "bigger".  That familiar connection and oneness, that I was formerly only used to feeling in meditative and sitting trance states, rushed into me more forcefully than I had ever previously experienced.  I began to make this as regular a practice as I could from then on, and I highly recommend everyone try it.