I have been going out, with my new freedoms, and meeting new people. What I hadn’t expected was – in my solitude and my own trance-work, how hard it is to connect to other Pagans. All of the trials, tribulations, failures, triumphs, and new wisdom learned… Cannot be communicated in simple sentences.
I spoke to those who felt they knew it all – already, by the age of 27. I’ve spoken to those who felt like wizened people by the age of 32. I’ve had conversations with those who felt they had so much to teach – at the age of 20. I was baffled. When I was 20, I was a moron. An idiot with too much arrogance to make heads nor tails of anything. I still feel like an idiot, for all the things I don’t know, nor understand. If that’s the sign of wisdom – then damn, wisdom is more complex than I imagined.
I’ve held heated debates about being a ‘Pious Pagan,’ and hunting. Yes, I ritual hunt – and if there’s no meat left in the house than I’ll be vegetarian for a while. I’m firm on that opinion – if I don’t know how the meat was acquired, I won’t eat it. How do I know you weren’t cruel, or callous about it? According to several Pagans, I shouldn’t eat meat in any form, or fashion. However, history (and archeology) show we’ve been ritual hunting for eons.
The main issue: My Bear Mother. She, who is the mother of warriors, kings, smiths, healers, storytellers, and shamans. She is not a flint-arrow kind of Goddess, she who was worshiped during the iron-age… Not such a simple Goddess. I admit, my view was limited when I met her – I am a metalworker, and that’s how I approach many things in life. However, Her artistic inspiration has changed so much of that. Hearing music in my ears that I can almost hear – yet hum the next day. She cannot be boxed, or categorized. A sentence of ‘Oh, that’s who she is,’ will not suffice. I’ve only met a handful (mostly online) who understand the pull of fire and ice. There is more to that mystery, than meets the eye.
Or the Antlered Weaver, or the Avian One. Or, The Red Horseman, or Daughter of the Bear, and her consort. How do I connect with others? How could I connect with only two hours or so of interaction? Learning the mysteries of trance-work – things… Are not so simple.
I’ve been making the effort (and the drive) to connect to other Occultists. Drum circles, gatherings, and if I can afford it a Witch’s Ball in Denver.
It is all too true – once you’ve tasted of the four-cornered cup of truth, that bears the mysteries of the Gods of one’s home… You’re not the same. You simply aren’t. When you’ve played one’s fiddle at midnight at a crossroads and danced with the Good Neighbors – you aren’t the same. The sunlight doesn’t shine like it had before, the music doesn’t sound the same. When you speak poetry that rhymes and has such rhythm that you cannot remember the words – words aren’t enough anymore.
Yet, being so in-tuned with the mysteries – you are disconnected from the world. I’ve been working on that. There are so many mysteries in reality that any Occultist simply needs to look around them to see them. Magic isn’t hidden – but right there in front of our noses.
I know I’m blabbering. But, after so many conversations I feel a blog is needed. How can I connect? I want to, and I try to – I try not to be closed minded, because I haven’t walked in your shoes. I still feel like an outcast, amongst outcasts.
Any advice would be wonderful, for all of the oracles, and divination I’ve done – all I get is an open door. That’s not an easy answer to interpret. I’m not a cookie and a bag of cheetoes, I’m just me. Nothing too terribly special, and one who is especially grumpy and imperfect. I drink, I smoke, I cuss, I have a temper – I’m human. I hope this makes sense.