Being Pagan

Sometimes being a Pagan is simply not fun.

In my path of Druidry, I have to consider the ramifications of every action that I take, in order to maintain honourable relationship with the world around me.  I gave up eating meat nearly twenty years ago. I have since given up dairy altogether.  I recycle everything I can, even though that can be time-consuming and tedious.  I’m spending thousands of pounds on solar panels for my home instead of putting it into a personal savings account.  Every day I make choices based on my spiritual and ethical practice, most of which are “not fun”.

We as humans have been altogether far too selfish. Our endless consuming of resources, without thought for future generations, demonstrates this.  We as humans have the capacity for forethought, and yet we still destroy the planet, our future and the future of our ancestors yet to come.  The world population has doubled in the last 50 years, yet people are still having children, or visiting fertility clinics when there are millions of children already born who need good homes.  We believe in an economy that only works when it keeps growing, when we keep spending to keep this mythical beast alive, feeding it with our hard-earned cash.  We invest in nuclear and chemical weapons, sometimes unknowingly, through the banks we put our money in.  We take, take and take, and virtually give nothing back.

It’s easy to dismiss those people who take a stand for what they believe in, who care for the environment, for whom their religion would not allow them to do otherwise.  Call them overly dramatic, call them attention seekers, call them hippies, fluffy bunny new-agers, or just plain crazy.  De-humanize them, for it is easier to control them and dismiss their arguments then.  Their feelings don’t matter – they’re all just fluff and air.  We need to get on with having our fun, for crying out loud, and not listen to these whingers.

I have been called all these things.  I defy them all, and stand proud in my convictions.  I make my choices based on generations of humans and non-humans yet to come, not out of selfish greed.  I will take a stand against destruction of bluebell woods.  I will protest fracking.  I will sign any petition Greenpeace throw my way.  I will feed the badgers in my backyard and pray for their counterparts in the culling areas, and I will continue to write to MPs to ask them to stop.  I will eat as organically and as locally as I can.

This may mean that I have to give up a hobby with a certain company rather than see the destruction of a single plant, or give up a weekend away with my husband to go to a rally.  My internet time of looking at cute kittens will be limited.  My evenings will be spent ensuring the welfare of my animal cousins.  My food may not be as easy to get, or as accessible (being seasonal and all), but dammit – I don’t care.  This is my life, and this is how I am going to live it.

My Paganism is not limited to circles glowing in the candlelight, the swirls of incense drifting about my upraised arms as I pray to my Goddess.  My religion is in my every action in life.  It is not mystical in the least – it is real, it is practical and it is me.  Whether I am in my ceremonial robes or my pyjamas, my work is important, my connection to the world and my relationship with everything in it equally valid whether I’m waving a wand or not. I may stand at the clifftop and shout my thanks to the ancestors across the sea, or I may sit in the conservatory and stroke my kitty in the growing twilight.  Either act is an act of devotion, of dedication to the present moment, to this world, this time and this place.

I cannot leave my Paganism, my Druidry behind.  It is me.  It is my life.  Others may try to dismiss it, but with love and compassion for all things, I hear their words, and I smile, letting them know that I’ve heard them, and then get on with what needs to be done to spread peace, harmony and love in this world.

I stand proud in the starlight, gazing out at the Milky Way and knowing where my place is within that great spiral dance.


Reblog : Standing on the knife’s edge of the equinox

Here is a reblog of my post on the SageWoman’s channel at Witches and Pagans…

Now we are diving deep into the cool waters of the West, into autumn’s light.  The equinox is just around the corner, and the new moon of September passed.  This year we will be blessed by a nearly full moon over the equinox, which is at 21:44 on Sunday, 22 September (where I live in the UK).  The tipping point is near, the balance will shift, and we will enter into the fading times of restful thought, of dreaming in the dark.

This is a pivotal point of the year.  Relishing in that special moment, when day and night are equal, we can ride that wave of energy, humming with all that we bring to it, the sacredness of the time and place in which we celebrate.  Standing at the edge, looking over the horizon for a moment, maybe two; we breathe deeply before we fall forward into our lives once again, with its cycles and spirals.

As we plunge into the depths of the dark half of the year, what will we bring with us along the journey?  Now is the time to think about what it is that we wish to carry forward, and what it is that we wish to leave behind.  It is a time to think about honour, integrity, loyalty, courage and wisdom.  It is a time to look at our actions, at our lives, and see in what way we can live in a more truthful way to our own wild natures, yet still moving within the compass of compassion and awareness.

Are you living your ethical code?  Are you in tune with your moral ideal? If not, now is the time to address that.  Looking over the year, our lives, generations upon generations of souls, we see what seeds have been planted, and which are most beneficial for all.  We carefully collect these seeds, to carry them with us through the dark months, to plant again next year.  We hone our sense of ethics, we look deeply into the meaning of honour.  What actions have we made that have been dishonourable? What will we do to ensure that this does not happen again? How can we live in tune with our ideals, and support our community, our planet, and our universe?

I know I am breathing deeply of late, with prayers into the growing dusk and spending time reflecting upon what has been, what requires change.  For me, autumn is a time of reflection, the light upon the water. And as I stand on the knife’s edge, I hold close to my heart my inspiration, my awen, and laughing I will fall forward into the cool darkness of winter, knowing that the cycle continues.