This is really apropos of nothing but I came up with this fun metaphor, and I wanted to write it down so I don't forget it.
See, religions are like drinks. You've got your Christian martinis, all basically the same just with a few different ingredients or proportions. You've got your gin in the west and your vodka in the east. Maybe Protestantism is all gimlets, I don't know. And then you've got your Islamic manhattans, and Buddhist white russians, and so on.
(These aren't intended to be exact correlations, they're used to illustrate.)
The point is that every religion is a mix of the same basic ingredients, and it's up to each person to find the drink that they like best. And it's okay for one person to prefer a vodka martini to a mudslide, because in the end you get just as drunk.
To extend the metaphor slightly, that makes priests into bartenders. Granted, some bartenders only know how to make a thousand different martinis, but the best are able to mix up just about anything, thereby to help the drinker find something that really satisfies.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Three Errors
The Common Order of Worship for the Reform begins with the following. Paraphrased, because I can't be arsed to find and Ctrl-V the original text.
I like this. Always have. Granted, I've always had a weakness for Biblical pomp, which the early works of the Reform have in spades, but I think there's something to the idea of making a statement of belief through confessing these errors.
The trouble is, I'm not sure they fit. I mean, sure, okay, on the surface they're all fine. A case could be made against there being no need for prayer and sacrifice, depending on your specific view of the divine; but in general, they're applicable.
My problem with them is, they don't say enough.
My own personal theology is presently in development. The things I "know" for sure are that the gods, little-g, the Aesir and Vanir and Tuatha de Danann and the Greek gods and the Egyptian gods and the Mesoamerican gods are all distinct from the Creator-God. It is my belief that they serve the function assigned to the aeons in Gnostic theology -- spiritual teachers and guides, keystones of divine knowledge. Though myths exist in which they play a prominent part in the creation and/or shaping of the world, I think these are teaching-myths, not truth.
Where my thinking diverges from that of the Gnostics is in assigning separation to the Infinite-God and Creator-God. Or, perhaps it would be better said that I do not believe the Creator-God to be lesser, or evil. While it is true that the world is full of suffering, it is necessary to suffer in order to grow -- and the existence of the world must be a goodness, because with no world there would be no grokking.
But God is remote. In that sense I am a Deist -- I do not believe the Creator interferes with the Cosmos because to do so would be to subvert its very purpose. Prayers and sacrifices to God are not only unnecessary, they are also futile. God simply cannot be reached; a mortal simply cannot fully understand the infinite.
However, prayers and sacrifices to the aeons are not futile, nor are they unnecessary. The act of making prayers and sacrifices, the act of giving gifts to the gods and Kindreds, is what opens the way between us and them. So in that sense, the gifts are needful.
In addition, I think there is utility in offering prayers to the One. It is to the One that we are referring when we say, "thou art God" -- the statement is a recognition of the individual's intellect, will, and agency; the parts of us that are Godly. Offering prayers to the One makes us mindful of the divine, and more aware of the divine within ourselves and the need to submit to its will.
So what would the "three errors" be? Lately I've been using the following:
Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions?
O God, forgive us these three errors made due to our human limitations: that thou art everywhere, but we worship you here; that thou are without face and form, yet we give you both; that thou hast no need of prayers and sacrifices, but we offer them anyway.
I like this. Always have. Granted, I've always had a weakness for Biblical pomp, which the early works of the Reform have in spades, but I think there's something to the idea of making a statement of belief through confessing these errors.
The trouble is, I'm not sure they fit. I mean, sure, okay, on the surface they're all fine. A case could be made against there being no need for prayer and sacrifice, depending on your specific view of the divine; but in general, they're applicable.
My problem with them is, they don't say enough.
My own personal theology is presently in development. The things I "know" for sure are that the gods, little-g, the Aesir and Vanir and Tuatha de Danann and the Greek gods and the Egyptian gods and the Mesoamerican gods are all distinct from the Creator-God. It is my belief that they serve the function assigned to the aeons in Gnostic theology -- spiritual teachers and guides, keystones of divine knowledge. Though myths exist in which they play a prominent part in the creation and/or shaping of the world, I think these are teaching-myths, not truth.
Where my thinking diverges from that of the Gnostics is in assigning separation to the Infinite-God and Creator-God. Or, perhaps it would be better said that I do not believe the Creator-God to be lesser, or evil. While it is true that the world is full of suffering, it is necessary to suffer in order to grow -- and the existence of the world must be a goodness, because with no world there would be no grokking.
But God is remote. In that sense I am a Deist -- I do not believe the Creator interferes with the Cosmos because to do so would be to subvert its very purpose. Prayers and sacrifices to God are not only unnecessary, they are also futile. God simply cannot be reached; a mortal simply cannot fully understand the infinite.
However, prayers and sacrifices to the aeons are not futile, nor are they unnecessary. The act of making prayers and sacrifices, the act of giving gifts to the gods and Kindreds, is what opens the way between us and them. So in that sense, the gifts are needful.
In addition, I think there is utility in offering prayers to the One. It is to the One that we are referring when we say, "thou art God" -- the statement is a recognition of the individual's intellect, will, and agency; the parts of us that are Godly. Offering prayers to the One makes us mindful of the divine, and more aware of the divine within ourselves and the need to submit to its will.
So what would the "three errors" be? Lately I've been using the following:
That thou art everywhere, yet I praise and cherish you here;That thou sitest at the summit that cannot be reached, yet I seek to climb;That thou art God, and I am God, and all that groks is God; yet from thee I stand apart.
Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions?
Sunday, January 19, 2014
On the notion of Divine equality
One of the things I believe more than any other is "thou art God, and I am God, and all that groks is God." This is a truism and I cannot imagine it being any other way. All that groks is God. Meeting another grokking being is meeting God and meeting yourself. There are manifold implications and consequences of this Truth but the one I'm most interested in right now is the idea of equality.
On the surface, it seems that if two things are the same then they must be equal. Or, perhaps, "equals." Infinity is infinity, right? And given the assertion that I am God, then the kindreds are also God, collectively and individually. Since we are all God, how can it be that I worship them?
It's a question of right behavior. A host might defer to his guest and, in turn, be deferred to. Two friends, social equals, who are out drinking together might mistreat one another in affectionately horrific ways. A father cherishes his daughter, viewing her as "higher" than himself and yet still requiring her obedience.
Equality is a power play, and even in infinities there is hierarchy. y = x grows to infinity, but y = x2 grows to infinity faster; it is a higher-order infinity. We are God, and so are the gods; but the gods are better at being God than we are.
It is correct to defer to the gods during workings because they are our guests. But it is also correct to defer to them because they are "first among equals." It may not be that their worth is greater than ours, or their potential; but their realization of that potential outstrips us in every way.
Thou art God, and I am God, and all that groks is God. But just as one infinity can be greater than another, one can grok more completely than another. This being true, failure to recognize it is dishonest. It is hubris, which is itself a failure to recognize things as they are.
The gods might appreciate spunk and self-reliance, but when a line into dishonesty is crossed, somehow I think their amusement quickly palls.
On the surface, it seems that if two things are the same then they must be equal. Or, perhaps, "equals." Infinity is infinity, right? And given the assertion that I am God, then the kindreds are also God, collectively and individually. Since we are all God, how can it be that I worship them?
It's a question of right behavior. A host might defer to his guest and, in turn, be deferred to. Two friends, social equals, who are out drinking together might mistreat one another in affectionately horrific ways. A father cherishes his daughter, viewing her as "higher" than himself and yet still requiring her obedience.
Equality is a power play, and even in infinities there is hierarchy. y = x grows to infinity, but y = x
It is correct to defer to the gods during workings because they are our guests. But it is also correct to defer to them because they are "first among equals." It may not be that their worth is greater than ours, or their potential; but their realization of that potential outstrips us in every way.
Thou art God, and I am God, and all that groks is God. But just as one infinity can be greater than another, one can grok more completely than another. This being true, failure to recognize it is dishonest. It is hubris, which is itself a failure to recognize things as they are.
The gods might appreciate spunk and self-reliance, but when a line into dishonesty is crossed, somehow I think their amusement quickly palls.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
On personal relationships
Two days in a row, huh.
I follow a number of Asatru groups on Facebook. I don't spend too much time reading through the conversations, which I guess kind of defeats the purpose of following the groups, but anyway. I did happen to catch something worthy of thought.
This poster made the claim that, to our ancestors, the idea of having a "personal relationship" with the deities was preposterous. Odin was busy worrying about Ragnarok, Thor was busy fighting jotnar, etc. They didn't have the time or attention to spend answering prayers or developing "relationships." In ritual, the gods were acknowledged, but they paid no more attention to their worshipers than a king pays to a peasant.
There is an amusingly Deistic flavor to this idea -- that the Godhead is remote from mankind. Still, I'm not sure I buy into it. I mean I don't know one way or the other how the ancestors felt but I'm not sure I buy into a Deistic idea of polytheism.
The poster went on to claim that it was the Ancestors to whom most prayer and devotion was offered, and it was the Ancestors who would provide aid. Interestingly Confucian, and logical in that the Ancestors, of the three Kindreds, would have the most vested interest in aiding the living, what with the whole bloodline and lineage and so forth.
On the other hand, not to be impertinent but genuinely asking -- Ancestors are nothing more than dead humans, therefore why should they have any power to bless or assist? I can think of a number of potential answers but further reflection is needed.
There was also the claim made that solitary Asatru is an oxymoron -- that the faith of the Old Ones is inherently communal. See above re: the absurdity of personal relationships. I don't know where I sit on this one either.
Many things to think about.
I follow a number of Asatru groups on Facebook. I don't spend too much time reading through the conversations, which I guess kind of defeats the purpose of following the groups, but anyway. I did happen to catch something worthy of thought.
This poster made the claim that, to our ancestors, the idea of having a "personal relationship" with the deities was preposterous. Odin was busy worrying about Ragnarok, Thor was busy fighting jotnar, etc. They didn't have the time or attention to spend answering prayers or developing "relationships." In ritual, the gods were acknowledged, but they paid no more attention to their worshipers than a king pays to a peasant.
There is an amusingly Deistic flavor to this idea -- that the Godhead is remote from mankind. Still, I'm not sure I buy into it. I mean I don't know one way or the other how the ancestors felt but I'm not sure I buy into a Deistic idea of polytheism.
The poster went on to claim that it was the Ancestors to whom most prayer and devotion was offered, and it was the Ancestors who would provide aid. Interestingly Confucian, and logical in that the Ancestors, of the three Kindreds, would have the most vested interest in aiding the living, what with the whole bloodline and lineage and so forth.
On the other hand, not to be impertinent but genuinely asking -- Ancestors are nothing more than dead humans, therefore why should they have any power to bless or assist? I can think of a number of potential answers but further reflection is needed.
There was also the claim made that solitary Asatru is an oxymoron -- that the faith of the Old Ones is inherently communal. See above re: the absurdity of personal relationships. I don't know where I sit on this one either.
Many things to think about.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
The First Two Weeks
So I'm two weeks into the Dedicant's Program, it having been the first of my "resolutions" at the new year to make an honest effort at it. I've managed to remember to do evening and usually morning devotionals each day, mostly thanks to setting a reminder alarm. Granted, they've been extremely freeform and have in general involved little-to-no meditation, but at this stage it's the habit I'm trying to instill. Leaving the particulars for later. Next month, perhaps.
Also took the opportunity to give Stranger in a Strange Land its annual reread. And it depressed me. But I don't want to talk about that just yet.
I'm struggling. Struggling to make some sense of it all, to bring some order to my thoughts and beliefs. See, I identify as a "Heathen Druid," with a bit of Gnosticism thrown in. And whatever the "Thou art God" would be considered. Apotheo-humanist? Is there even a word for it? Pantheism, the God-in-all-things?
There is tension between the "Thou art God" belief and the belief in the literal reality of the Aesir and Vanir. Let alone the other Kindreds. It overwhelms, a bit -- I know so few of their names, I know nothing of the nature of the land-wights particularly given my circumstances, and offering reverence and worship to dead people when I did not do so while they were alive ... ugh, so much confusion.
I've thought of myself as a Druid for over a decade now, closing in all-too-rapidly on two. I've only recently come to fully embrace the "Heathen" label, but it's been a part of things for most of that time. I was told, long ago, that I belong to the "old man," and I've never really doubted that. (Perhaps "belong" wasn't the word used, I don't recall with perfect clarity.) And yet for all that time, nearly twenty years, I've done very little study and even less work.
So I come into this with an odd perspective and many years of bad habits. Many years of treating this like a Christian faith, praying and praying without ceremony, without offering. Many years of thinking I knew what was going on all the while learning new dribs and drabs here and there that sometimes radically changed my perspective. Many years of "experience" with almost no practical knowledge. And yet I'm not jumping in with the zeal of a newcomer because in so many ways the ideas are old and comfortable to me.
"I've been doing this forever, I don't have all that much to learn." Which isn't true even for the ancients. Profound arrogance, the arrogance of the weekend warrior Christian. Something that must be discarded.
That's really why I began again. Why I'm trying not to hurry along, burn myself out, lose interest. Trying to start small and build in increments so I have a solid foundation this time around.
Trouble is, I'm not sure it's working.
I keep spinning around between Heathen polytheism, Neo-Druidic RDNA Earth-mother pantheism, and the teachings of Stranger. I want to learn from the gods and uncover the deep teachings and knowledge while at the same time feeling a profound urge to prostrate myself before the Infinite-God and submit to His will.
There's a simplicity to monotheism that is appealing to me. I'm not good at making friends at the best of times and the idea of tailoring a ritual to dozens of beings individually and by name is exhausting. As above, so below: I am much happier addressing a faceless crowd or enjoying the company of a few close friends than I am schmoozing at a huge party.
And perhaps therein lies the answer. Perhaps I should work on my relationship with one or two of the faces of God at once. Expand the circle over time instead of trying to draw it around everyone at once.
Reading Stranger threw everything into a bit of upheaval. The theology presented within resonates with me more strongly than anything else ever has. Reading through it I am continuously assailed with the "finally, someone understands!" thoughts, which is of course why I keep coming back to it, year after year.
And yet I can't countenance any religious observance that doesn't include Odin in some way. Though I have not pledged to him nor has he accepted me, I cannot but think of myself as an "Odinsman." Bit of a sine qua non I suppose.
I used to feel close with the Earth Mother but that's been gone a while. I think I might strive to get that back.
And then come the other thoughts. I am God, and thou art God, and together we are God. All things that grok are God, for God is He who groks. I am but an egg, this is true, but so is the Earth -- an egg that nurtures and shelters us, but one day we must be strong enough to break free...
It is, in a way, a tripartate spirituality. That actually has a kind of tidiness. I think I'll run with it.
Also took the opportunity to give Stranger in a Strange Land its annual reread. And it depressed me. But I don't want to talk about that just yet.
I'm struggling. Struggling to make some sense of it all, to bring some order to my thoughts and beliefs. See, I identify as a "Heathen Druid," with a bit of Gnosticism thrown in. And whatever the "Thou art God" would be considered. Apotheo-humanist? Is there even a word for it? Pantheism, the God-in-all-things?
There is tension between the "Thou art God" belief and the belief in the literal reality of the Aesir and Vanir. Let alone the other Kindreds. It overwhelms, a bit -- I know so few of their names, I know nothing of the nature of the land-wights particularly given my circumstances, and offering reverence and worship to dead people when I did not do so while they were alive ... ugh, so much confusion.
I've thought of myself as a Druid for over a decade now, closing in all-too-rapidly on two. I've only recently come to fully embrace the "Heathen" label, but it's been a part of things for most of that time. I was told, long ago, that I belong to the "old man," and I've never really doubted that. (Perhaps "belong" wasn't the word used, I don't recall with perfect clarity.) And yet for all that time, nearly twenty years, I've done very little study and even less work.
So I come into this with an odd perspective and many years of bad habits. Many years of treating this like a Christian faith, praying and praying without ceremony, without offering. Many years of thinking I knew what was going on all the while learning new dribs and drabs here and there that sometimes radically changed my perspective. Many years of "experience" with almost no practical knowledge. And yet I'm not jumping in with the zeal of a newcomer because in so many ways the ideas are old and comfortable to me.
"I've been doing this forever, I don't have all that much to learn." Which isn't true even for the ancients. Profound arrogance, the arrogance of the weekend warrior Christian. Something that must be discarded.
That's really why I began again. Why I'm trying not to hurry along, burn myself out, lose interest. Trying to start small and build in increments so I have a solid foundation this time around.
Trouble is, I'm not sure it's working.
I keep spinning around between Heathen polytheism, Neo-Druidic RDNA Earth-mother pantheism, and the teachings of Stranger. I want to learn from the gods and uncover the deep teachings and knowledge while at the same time feeling a profound urge to prostrate myself before the Infinite-God and submit to His will.
There's a simplicity to monotheism that is appealing to me. I'm not good at making friends at the best of times and the idea of tailoring a ritual to dozens of beings individually and by name is exhausting. As above, so below: I am much happier addressing a faceless crowd or enjoying the company of a few close friends than I am schmoozing at a huge party.
And perhaps therein lies the answer. Perhaps I should work on my relationship with one or two of the faces of God at once. Expand the circle over time instead of trying to draw it around everyone at once.
Reading Stranger threw everything into a bit of upheaval. The theology presented within resonates with me more strongly than anything else ever has. Reading through it I am continuously assailed with the "finally, someone understands!" thoughts, which is of course why I keep coming back to it, year after year.
And yet I can't countenance any religious observance that doesn't include Odin in some way. Though I have not pledged to him nor has he accepted me, I cannot but think of myself as an "Odinsman." Bit of a sine qua non I suppose.
I used to feel close with the Earth Mother but that's been gone a while. I think I might strive to get that back.
And then come the other thoughts. I am God, and thou art God, and together we are God. All things that grok are God, for God is He who groks. I am but an egg, this is true, but so is the Earth -- an egg that nurtures and shelters us, but one day we must be strong enough to break free...
It is, in a way, a tripartate spirituality. That actually has a kind of tidiness. I think I'll run with it.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Where am I now?
This is the second in our journey of three parts. We've walked the path to the now, and before setting off on the branching paths in the garden of Destiny it behooves us to examine the moment.
This might take some time.
I've recently rejoined ADF. The production values for their membership materials have gone up significantly since I first joined back in '98. I haven't yet begun to read through them but I've thus far gleaned that the Dedicant's Program is still a thing, a thing I intend to begin Soon[tm].
I'll also be joining the Troth within the next week. They don't permit training in their clergy program until you've been a member for a year, which is fortuitous timing as the Dedicant's Program is one year long.
(This is arguably not the time of year to be undertaking new endeavors, but all we have is Now.)
I've begun to read up on shamanism, seidr, and the runes. I don't set aside a lot of my vanishingly-small leisure time for reading, I'm sad to say, so such research is slow going.
I can envision starting a grove again, in the future, but I first need to get a tighter grip on the things I believe before I could satisfactorily articulate a vision for such a thing. It may come to pass that I decide that the priesthood is not for me. It's equally likely that I'll decide, or remember, that being a priest is my function here.
But I have to confess, I'm not sure why I'm doing these things. And that's been bothering me.
I have the sense that developing a relationship with the divine will enrich my life. I remember when my faith was strong and the way to the other worlds was easily walked, and I remember being happier then. Whether or not this can be attributed to the presence of the divine in my life, I cannot say -- it's possible that I was happier because I had friends, love, a social group, all things that I'm presently lacking. Only one way to find out, of course.
More than that, though, I feel that delving into the mysteries is important, though I can't put my finger on exactly why I feel that way. Sure, I seek power, but I'm not sure why. I seek knowledge, but I'm not sure why. I'm trying to figure these things out at the same time I'm walking this path, mostly because I like to know "why."
But ah, which path do I walk? Saying "a Druidic one" is kind of a pat answer, since I'm not sure anyone can fully describe what a Druidic path really is. And in any case, as much as I embrace the label, I'm a little uncomfortable doing so what with my Norse leanings.
On the other hand, it might be worthwhile to separate the two: keeping Druidism as outlook and practice, while seeking to develop a relationship with the Norse deities.
Let me talk about what I believe, what I know, and perhaps that'll help underline why I'm conflicted.
This might take some time.
I've recently rejoined ADF. The production values for their membership materials have gone up significantly since I first joined back in '98. I haven't yet begun to read through them but I've thus far gleaned that the Dedicant's Program is still a thing, a thing I intend to begin Soon[tm].
I'll also be joining the Troth within the next week. They don't permit training in their clergy program until you've been a member for a year, which is fortuitous timing as the Dedicant's Program is one year long.
(This is arguably not the time of year to be undertaking new endeavors, but all we have is Now.)
I've begun to read up on shamanism, seidr, and the runes. I don't set aside a lot of my vanishingly-small leisure time for reading, I'm sad to say, so such research is slow going.
But I have to confess, I'm not sure why I'm doing these things. And that's been bothering me.
I have the sense that developing a relationship with the divine will enrich my life. I remember when my faith was strong and the way to the other worlds was easily walked, and I remember being happier then. Whether or not this can be attributed to the presence of the divine in my life, I cannot say -- it's possible that I was happier because I had friends, love, a social group, all things that I'm presently lacking. Only one way to find out, of course.
More than that, though, I feel that delving into the mysteries is important, though I can't put my finger on exactly why I feel that way. Sure, I seek power, but I'm not sure why. I seek knowledge, but I'm not sure why. I'm trying to figure these things out at the same time I'm walking this path, mostly because I like to know "why."
But ah, which path do I walk? Saying "a Druidic one" is kind of a pat answer, since I'm not sure anyone can fully describe what a Druidic path really is. And in any case, as much as I embrace the label, I'm a little uncomfortable doing so what with my Norse leanings.
On the other hand, it might be worthwhile to separate the two: keeping Druidism as outlook and practice, while seeking to develop a relationship with the Norse deities.
Let me talk about what I believe, what I know, and perhaps that'll help underline why I'm conflicted.
1. There is a Creator, who is remote and unknowable.
This is Deistic thinking, but nevertheless I believe it to be true. I believe that whatever created the cosmos resides outside the cosmos. It cannot be known, it cannot be understood, it cannot be interacted with, and it does not care for the particular fate of any being within the cosmos. This is not the Christian God, nor is it Allah, or any other prime deity; though some aspects I've described here have bled through to those lesser beings.
I tend to refer to this being/principle as God, simply out of cultural custom and a sense of poetry; references to God below should not be taken as referring to the Christian, or any other, prime deity.
2. There are many gods.
I'm a hard polytheist. I believe that the most likely scenario is that any being conceived of as a god is probably actually a god, though some of them get more attention than others. As to the nature of the gods? That one's harder to pin down. My current thinking on the subject is that the gods are, in a sense, memes -- information patterns, encoded symbolic teachings, though imbued with a sentience of their own. The gods are able to interact with mortals, and might even be able to influence fate or events in the physical world -- but any such workings are, in my opinion, just as likely to be the unconscious workings of the beneficiary.
I believe that man (thinkers, free-willed beings) creates the gods, and the gods rely on man in order to exist. Nevertheless, the gods are far wiser and more knowledgeable than any man could hope to be, and are therefore worthy of the utmost respect.
3. God is he who groks.
To grok is to understand something so thoroughly that it becomes a part of the thinker, and the thinker becomes a part of the thing. It goes beyond knowledge to an instinctual understanding. God, the Creator, is he who groks -- and so is man. Man is, therefore, God, endowed with free will and the ability to choose. Man creates his own reality, layered atop and interacting with the Real cosmos.
4. Magic is real
We define "magic" here as "interacting with and influencing the world via non-physical/empirical means." It is a manifestation of the previous principle -- all people, to a greater or lesser degree, create their own reality through the choices they make, but all people also have access to influence the Real through their own will.
I suspect that Plato was onto something when he described the world of Forms in The Republic. As a computer programmer, I see a lot of similarity between the Forms and object classes. I suspect that magic, broadly put, is a means of accessing "hidden functions" that are contained within the Forms.
5. The Earth is an egg
And here we begin to move into a bit of Gnostic thinking. The Gnostic idea of the world as a prison holds some appeal to me, but I think there's more to it than that. I believe in the sentience of the Earth (given my prior experiences I'd be foolish not to), so I don't look down on the physical world the way most Gnostics would. However, I do believe that the physical world, like an egg, is a cage -- it nurtures and sustains us, but only so that we can grow strong enough to break free. A chick who remains within the egg eventually starves to death. It must hatch, and so must we.
6. The ultimate purpose of life is to return to the divine.
I don't know how humans got here. I don't know if the cosmos was created because the Creator was lonely, or if we are fragments of God trapped here by the Demiurge, or if sentience is an emergent quality of the cosmos, or what. What I do feel sure of is that the ultimate purpose of life is apotheosis -- the return to and union with the divine. I do not know how this can be achieved. I believe that there are manifold paths that lead to the summit of the mountain, and which one a person walks depends greatly on that person.
I believe that the purpose of the Kindreds (gods, spirits, and ancestors) is to guide us, to teach us, to help us learn how to climb the mountain. The purpose of the Earth, meanwhile, is to sustain us until we are strong enough to make the journey. She is to be revered and honored as Mother to us all, but all children must grow up and leave the nest eventually.
Ultimately I think the way to the divine lies in grokking God, which introduces a paradox -- as I stated in my first premise, God/the Creator is remote and unknowable, and therefore cannot be fully grokked. So where does that leave us? I'm not sure yet.
That was actually easier than I thought it would be. Unfortunately, as far as I can tell, this doesn't leave me fitting neatly into any particular category. This is not, in itself, important, but it does make seeking a community of like-minded believers somewhat troublesome.
On the other hand, it occurs to me that everything that I've described here is a metaphysic -- an attempt to describe the manner in which the cosmos is ordered.. Interestingly, most pagan faiths don't deal in metaphysics so much as they do in ethics and virtue -- right behavior and values. Certainly there are attempts to describe the Creation and that which comes after life in the myths of each culture, but these descriptions are typically more structural than they are metaphysical. (It's the difference between describing a tree in three dimensions, and establishing that there are three dimensions to begin with.)
So to summarize, I suppose that "where I am" is preparing to undertake the journey of coming to know the Norse gods in a Druidic fashion, and hopefully not annoying them by so doing. I think I also have to re-learn how to think Druidically, so to speak -- I can't describe how it used to be but I feel as though I'm out of practice doing it.
Nevertheless, we must begin.
The road so far
I've been identifying as a Druid since I was a teenager. It was an issue of Wired that brought me into the fold, oddly enough -- it was the October '97 issue and within there was an article on Wicca and online sources therefor. For some reason I decided to run a search for "druid" instead. From the very first site I read, I knew. It was like coming home.
I joined ADF fairly swiftly after that, as soon as I could get a PO Box (since my parents weren't exactly the tolerant type). Organizing a grove came soon after. It was always tough going -- the pagan community in my city isn't all that healthy, never has been, and Druids in particular have always been thin on the ground. It's a witchy city. So it goes. But we had our successes. At one point there were close to twenty people attending the rituals.
After three years, frustration took its toll and I decided to step down as grove organizer. The person who took over for me essentially let the grove die after that, and ever since then, I've been a solitary.
I was ordained to the Reformed Druids of North America in 2002. During my vigil, I received a personal visit from the Earth Mother. Not in body, only in spirit, but that was enough. I don't think I can say I've ever doubted the existence of the divine since.
Not that I've done my duties, I'm sad to say.
I've held onto a token faith since my ordination -- I haven't been practicing but the beliefs have remained. Not that they haven't evolved, mind you, but ever since '97 I haven't been able to let go of the "Druid" concept. But practicing? No, not so much. I let my ADF membership lapse right around the time I got married, and I dropped off the face of the Earth as far as the Reform was concerned as well. Since then I've occasionally tried to "start up" again, but nothing has really stuck up until the present day.
A digression.
I can't say exactly when my interest in the Aes and Van began. I was familiar with the god-forms before coming into paganism, from Final Fantasy and Sandman and various other sources. I'm almost entirely Germanic by blood, as is the bulk of Western Europe. German and English figure prominently into my heritage, as does Irish -- but the Irish comes by way of the Viking settlers, so it's not unreasonable to speculate that my ancestors were almost entirely folk of the North. Is this why I've been drawn to those legends, moreso than any other? Possibly, but I can't say for sure.
I've been struggling with that -- the fact that I can't help but identify as a Druid, but my "divine allegiances," such as they are, are to the gods of my ancestors. Reconciling the two satisfactorily is a challenge, one that I haven't quite mastered yet.
Digression over.
I read Stranger in a Strange Land around 2006, and I'd have to characterize it as a life-changing event. Even to this day I seek a nest, though I must admit that cynicism has taken root after years of failure. The last nest I was in imploded traumatically, and ever since then I can't say as I've been that close to anyone. Not for lack of trying, but so it goes.
I flirted briefly with the idea of starting a new grove last autumn, but once I became a truck driver I had to put those plans in abeyance. I'm still driving trucks, so for the foreseeable future I will by necessity remain solitary. Nevertheless, I have been feeling the pull of the Godhead once more, and I am at the moment trying to find the path again after wandering in the woods for so long.
I joined ADF fairly swiftly after that, as soon as I could get a PO Box (since my parents weren't exactly the tolerant type). Organizing a grove came soon after. It was always tough going -- the pagan community in my city isn't all that healthy, never has been, and Druids in particular have always been thin on the ground. It's a witchy city. So it goes. But we had our successes. At one point there were close to twenty people attending the rituals.
After three years, frustration took its toll and I decided to step down as grove organizer. The person who took over for me essentially let the grove die after that, and ever since then, I've been a solitary.
I was ordained to the Reformed Druids of North America in 2002. During my vigil, I received a personal visit from the Earth Mother. Not in body, only in spirit, but that was enough. I don't think I can say I've ever doubted the existence of the divine since.
Not that I've done my duties, I'm sad to say.
I've held onto a token faith since my ordination -- I haven't been practicing but the beliefs have remained. Not that they haven't evolved, mind you, but ever since '97 I haven't been able to let go of the "Druid" concept. But practicing? No, not so much. I let my ADF membership lapse right around the time I got married, and I dropped off the face of the Earth as far as the Reform was concerned as well. Since then I've occasionally tried to "start up" again, but nothing has really stuck up until the present day.
A digression.
I can't say exactly when my interest in the Aes and Van began. I was familiar with the god-forms before coming into paganism, from Final Fantasy and Sandman and various other sources. I'm almost entirely Germanic by blood, as is the bulk of Western Europe. German and English figure prominently into my heritage, as does Irish -- but the Irish comes by way of the Viking settlers, so it's not unreasonable to speculate that my ancestors were almost entirely folk of the North. Is this why I've been drawn to those legends, moreso than any other? Possibly, but I can't say for sure.
I've been struggling with that -- the fact that I can't help but identify as a Druid, but my "divine allegiances," such as they are, are to the gods of my ancestors. Reconciling the two satisfactorily is a challenge, one that I haven't quite mastered yet.
Digression over.
I read Stranger in a Strange Land around 2006, and I'd have to characterize it as a life-changing event. Even to this day I seek a nest, though I must admit that cynicism has taken root after years of failure. The last nest I was in imploded traumatically, and ever since then I can't say as I've been that close to anyone. Not for lack of trying, but so it goes.
I flirted briefly with the idea of starting a new grove last autumn, but once I became a truck driver I had to put those plans in abeyance. I'm still driving trucks, so for the foreseeable future I will by necessity remain solitary. Nevertheless, I have been feeling the pull of the Godhead once more, and I am at the moment trying to find the path again after wandering in the woods for so long.
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