31 Days of Offerings – Day 2: What’s the Offering?

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Photo: offerings at a shrine incl candles & milk

Second day, and I’m already starting to realise that there’s a big question mark around what the offering is each day.

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Today the offering wasn’t the milk and incense. It wasn’t the candlelight. It wasn’t even the piece of writing that my day unfolded around – not exactly.

It was the… bravery? No, not quite that. The risk and adventure of it, the submission to the forces of chaos and creation, of knowing that writing (and publishing) the post was a massive risk and being unbelievably scared, and still doing it. The spirit of creation, Cailleach Bhéarra-style – the chaos that dies down to reveal transformation and new possibilities. Standing in the way of the hurricane and seeing what happens next.

A goddess of the land doesn’t need the things she’s already created (as much as she sometimes appreciates the effort). I think maybe she’s more interested in what I can create, and co-create with her.

I think it’s going to be an interesting month.

Photo: turbulent waves on the West Cork shore. By Eoin Milner.

Photo: waves on the West Cork shore. By Eoin Milner.

31 Days of Offerings

The 31 Days blog project is simple. You blog about one topic for 31 days. The aim is that you explore it in detail, looking at lots of aspects of the topic. I’ve decided to link mine with a practice, and write about all the permutations and aspects of that practice that emerge. And so…

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Image: rock at Allihies, associated with the Children of Lir. Offerings of pennies cover it. Words written over it: “31 Days of Offerings”.

…31 Days of Offerings.

Day 1: Showing Up Anyway
Day 2: What’s the Offering?
Day 3: Offerings in Exchange
Day 4 & 5: Offering Too Much
Days 6-11: Simple Steps Forward
Days 12-14: Reflections on Daily Religion and Being Too Many Priests
Day 15: Wise Justice and the Authentic Self

My expectation is that these offerings will be focused around Cailleach Bhearra. However, what she wants as offerings is a complex matter, so I already know that it won’t stay simply a ‘put an apple on the altar’ thing – although I’ll start there. But I suspect offerings to other entities will also pop up during the course of the month.

My aim is to explore the concept of ‘offerings’ in detail. What are offerings – both in Gaelic polytheism and in modern druidry? What can come under the banner of ‘offerings’? What do the gods and spirits really want from us?

See you on the 1st of October!

[If you want to find out more about the Mythical Children of Lir Site at Allihies, this blog is a wonderful resource for all things Beara Peninsula!]

Summer Harvests

It was Lammas at Druid Camp.

Alone, I would usually choose to celebrate Lughnasadh – the festival of Tailtu who created agriculture, of Lugh who prevents the death of the crops and brings the harvest. Summer games and competition and high-energy feats of challenge and pride, in honour of a proud, accomplished god.

But we were together, and it was Lammas.

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The wheat of the Lammas harvest that we were surrounded by at Druid Camp. Photo by Pawl Rouselle.

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Community-witnessed handfasting at Druid Camp. Photo by Pawl Rouselle.

Druidry is very much a community-based tradition. If alone I am a Gaelic polytheist with Brythonic leanings, together with these friends I am a Druid in a community of Druids. And only communities can reap a good harvest.

And I thought back to two weeks before, in Ireland with my mother and grandmother, spending most of our time with cousins and other family. I didn’t get much time with the land, with Beara. I did more important things. My harvest was community.

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The view across the hills and down to the sea from the vantage point of my family farmhouse, dating back to my great-grandparents and still at the centre of a small farm worked by my cousins. Beara Peninsula.

I return to posts from American Pagans about rejecting Lughnasadh (by which, in this case, the writer actually means Lammas) because “most Pagans live in the US” (EXCUSE ME?!), the assertion from some corners that modern polytheism is better than modern Paganism, and other culturally imperialist rubbish that starts to bring me down. British Paganism and British Druidry are a minority voice online. Most Americans don’t know about the beautifully non-hierarchical, deeply rooted-in-our-land, strongly community-focused practice that draws from many streams of modern Paganism and other spiritualities that is modern British druidry. The loud voices shouting about their recent conferences, and whose hotel was better, know nothing about the week we spent in a field, overlooking the river of Sabrina and the ancient barrows across the hill, surrounded by sheep, having to build our own community from the ground up (and make it accessible to as many people as possible!), where the success is all the sweeter for how every person contributes in their own way. They don’t know about the talent (that Eisteddfod!), the strength, the love, the mutual acceptance and help and support, the critical thought, and the plain hard work that can bring 200+ very diverse druids together in a field and have them, by the end, become a coherent spiritual community complete with regular dramatic rituals and dances and fires and drinking of mead and telling of stories. So many stories.

Flaming labyrinth at Druid Camp. Photo by Pawl Rouselle.

Flaming labyrinth at Druid Camp. Photo by Pawl Rouselle.

And that started me thinking about stories, and how the One Reality we all inhabit can be so very different from so many different perspectives. “We don’t need Lughnasadh,” announces someone who sees one side of the story. On the other side of the world, Lammas is the theme for 200 druids in a field surrounded by wheat. The sun at its height but showing the first signs of waning towards its long sleep. Our carefree summers making their way, like a slowly-winding labyrinth, towards Samhain and darkness and change. At the height of summer there is the seed of winter. At the height of life there is the seed of death. That’s what our harvest, here on this insignificant island where modern Paganism was birthed, is all about.

And that’s what our very different stories are all about, too. “I was right, you know, and he was wrong.” Except that right and wrong are forever relative. As a friend of mine said today: “We are all scumbags. We are all saints.” We may want to play the innocent hurt victim or the evil villain – depending on where our self-esteem might be today – but these are stereotypes, archetypes that aren’t useful beyond a certain point. I don’t worship the Maiden, the Mother and the Crone, because these are useful illustrative archetypes, but not necessarily the stories by which I want to live my life. I am neither the villain nor the victim. I am neither the Druid nor the Christian. I am neither the daughter nor the wife. I am neither the sociologist nor the poet nor the seer nor the Gaelic polytheist nor the Pagan nor the wheelchair user nor the stranger nor the friend. I am all these things and more. Truth is bigger than we can imagine.

I am the universe emerging into consciousness, beginning to understand itself. (To slightly misquote Babylon 5.) And how much more am I than stereotypes and archetypes, as a result? I won’t reduce myself or others to one-dimensional pictures. I am stardust, as complex as the winds and as simple as the rain, the sacred legacy of my ancestors, the sacred ancestor of those who come after me.

This is the harvest that I reap.

Happy Lughnasadh. Happy Lammas. May summer and harvest festivals be celebrated forever, the wisdom of our forebears integrated into our new stories. We need the old and we need the new. We need all the sides of the story.

Hail, Lugh! Hail, ancestors!

My Goddess has a Sense of Humour: Random thoughts of the day*

IMG_20150401_084035Asking Her why I feel blocked in a particular situation led to: my need for a miracle (the Star), the suggestion that I do a deal with the Devil, the Empress and Emperor side by side (Beara looking the Christian god in the face, hand on hips, going “Is she yours or mine?”), and the Hermit (me, getting in the way of myself). That’s all a pretty good picture of how I’m feeling at the moment.

The above picture shows the Battlestar Galactica tarot deck I’m working on. It’s not finished, but I already adore it. I’m currently working on Wands, which are a difficult suit to start with. Lots of Gaius Baltar, for some reason. I also want to start on a Narnia oracle deck soon. That should be easier: grab the characters, let them speak.

On an entirely different note: I was just discussing April Fools with another person with Asperger’s, on twitter. We agreed that we rather hate it. Tell us something and we’ll believe you. Why wouldn’t we?! Metaphor. I find it difficult.

What I’m reading at the moment: Devoted ed. by Alkistis Dimech (wonderful), When God Talks Back: Understanding the American Evangelical Relationship with God by Tanya Luhrmann (also very good, though I keep forgetting it among all the other things I’m reading), The Poet’s Ogam by John-Paul Patton, Lived Religion: Faith and Practice in Everyday Life by Meredith McGuire (excellent) and The Druid’s Primer by Luke Eastwood (review to follow as soon as I finish it). I want to write more book reviews at this ‘ere blog, so let me know if you’d like me to share my thoughts on any of the above.

In pain and illness news: Things are really quite bad at the moment. I can’t do much with my right arm (too much sitting at the computer typing – what’s a postgrad student to do?) and my lower back is all messed up as usual. I’m pondering how these things relate to embodied spirituality, at the moment. I’m learning so much from my participants, whose bodies frame and contain their spiritual lives much more than mine does.

In otheIMG_20150401_102627r news: Dilly Cat!

This is a shot I took lying on the floor alongside the bed in my office. She likes ‘under the bed’ a lot at the moment. But she’s willing to come out for cuddles when it’s quiet.

*I’m hoping ‘Random thoughts of the day’ posts will be a new series here. You will be hearing more pointless ramblings from my life. Rejoice.

You know me? You don’t know me

I am not a reconstructionist.

There. I said it. I feel better now, I think.

I was strongly drawn to reconstructionism in the beginning. It seems so academic. (The fact that most academics would find what reconstructionists do rather… inaccurate and confusing, is an entirely different issue.) It seems so clear. Got questions about a deity? The answers are out there, waiting to be uncovered by (usually amateur) archeologists/linguists/folklorists/mythicists.

Except they aren’t. And I feel, increasingly, that this is not a way to do religion or spirituality.

I love looking for clues in the stories of the land. My deities can all be spotted there, or at least, shadows of them – including Baoi (Beara), Dovinia/Duibhne (of the Corca Dhuibhne people), and the Three Sisters (Lasair, Latiaran and Gobnait-who-is-sometimes-Inghean Buidhe-or-sometimes she’s-one-of-the-others-and-sometimes-she’s-Crobh-Derg). But they are, as you can see even when I just try to say their names, not all that easy to pin down. The Three Sisters are deeply rooted in the land around Cork and Kerry, and if you ask the locals about St Latiaran, they will know who you mean, and they will tell you stories about her that you’ve never heard before. But these deities also have precedents across the water and across Ireland. Does that make them any less local? No. It makes them a far bigger mystery than they first seem. The clues are there, but they will slip out of your hands when you try to grasp them. Continue reading

To Answer a Call

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Photo by looking4poetry (CC).

It’s easy to follow the wave of emotion in a crowd. When I’m on a protest march, with the energy all stirred up by the hundreds or thousands of people speaking in one voice with me, then it’s easy to take a stand. No one’s going to push through the crowd to tell me that I’m wrong. I’m safe among allies.

But after the stirring demonstration, after I go home, when I’m all alone and faced with decisions… What do I do then?

What does it mean to change your life in response to the call of a deity? What does it mean to answer a call to change the world for her? Continue reading

Voting, Politics and the Xartus: Paganism in Practice

I’ve been having a debate with with a friend about politics and voting. (See Cthuludruid’s blog post here.) I’ve been doing my usual reaction to people who yell “Revolution!”, nearly as gleefully as American apocalypse-wishers who hoard food and guns and wait for humanity to return to its true wild ways (only this time with better weapons). Cthuldruid points out to me, elsewhere, that he’s not talking about violent revolution – although that’s primarily what we see, in revolutions throughout history. But even where that’s not what happens, theorising about change feels so useless sometimes.

Continue reading