I am water

Here's a revelation from the shower..

The only time anyone gets to think in my household seems to be in the shower. Things have been crazy and the holidays aren't even here yet. Everyone is stressed out. My husband and I were on the rocks. The kids have taken arguing to a whole new level.

I feel like I'm hanging on by my fingernails sometimes. And I'm supposed to be resting after my eye operations. 

Creative Commons image by  Alex Dixon

My six-year-old came and asked me, "Who is the boss in our family? Is Grandma the boss or you or Papa?" 

The seven-year-old says whoever wants to be the boss has to be big and strong enough to get rid of Donald Trump, her new nemesis. I barely even feel big and strong enough to get breakfast. Let alone a healthy breakfast. 

I was in the shower in the midst of this, when simple words came into my mind, repeating like a mantra:
 

I am water.
I am the river.
I am the well.

Simple. Too simple maybe. But also the answer I needed.

I am water. Our bodies are mostly water. And the only way I can make a difference in the world or in my family is the way water works its wonders--through persistent, gentle, adaptable and never-ending action. Through seeping into cracks and expanding with the frost. Through the quiet, unbeatable strength of atoms. 

My children may not eat a healthy meal every meal, but I continue to work at it. I may be blocked and dammed up at times, but when the water rises high enough, the important things will spill over. Water never stops. Never stops. 

Water spreads everywhere. Water seeks freedom. Always heading down toward the open sea. No matter how turned around, no matter how many barriers. Water always keeps seeking freedom.

I am the river. I am also standing in the river, feeling the water flow all around me. I can catch certain things in the rush. My children, for example. I have caught them many times when they might have been swept away on a tide of consumerist glitz and brain-dead computer games.

Someday I will let them go in the river. And they too will be water. They will go through the rough water and scrape against rocks. Then I will have to hope I have taught them to swim well enough because many drown.

I am the well. There is something deep. I don't want to be the only one who gives food or peace or family harmony or hope. But while I can, I let it be. It seems I must be an endless and inexhaustible source for my children and those around me.

I have railed against it sometimes. But even I know I have to be a well. In a home with small children. In a world with so much need and hopelessness. Each of us must be a well of something, whatever it is we care deeply about. Be the source.

If it is peace you want, be the source. If it is safety or joy or love you want, be the well.

And be well.

The Goddess in America - Pagan Book Review

Here's America's answer to Pagan Planet. which focuses heavily on the British Isles. The Goddess in America: The Divine Feminine in Cultural Context, edited by Trevor Greenfield, is an impressive anthology of Neopagan, Reclaiming and Goddess-oriented writers and it provides a valuable study guide for anyone seeking to understand Goddess-centered faith in America.

Right off the bat, this book passes the first, most obvious and most often failed test when it comes to looking at Goddess spirituality in America. That is it starts before Columbus... long before Columbus and stays there for a solid chunk of the book. Kudos to the editor for that. It isn't a stance without its critics and dangers. 

The issue of the uneasy relationship between Goddess-devotees of European descent, Native American Goddess spirituality and cultural appropriation is addressed without any definitive conclusion. It's a sticky subject and there is essentially no way to satisfy everyone. Several authors weigh in on the topic in this anthology, all offering various versions of a moderate viewpoint: i.e. people should be free to honor goddesses other than those from their own genetic background as long as they do so with true respect and take the time to understand the cultural context of the goddess and give something back to the culture and community that the goddess comes from. Some authors have more exacting standards than others when it comes to correct respect but that is the general consensus.

The book continues with a variety of perspectives on the historical development and contemporary character of goddess spirituality in America. Again, the editor has heard the calls for more racial diversity in such anthologies and the authors represent reasonable diversity within the movement, including Vodun and Hebrew goddess perspectives. 

The book is generally well written, excellently edited and interesting to read. Unlike some similar books there is little attempt to make it easy or light reading, however. The authors state their issues in all their complexity, which will make the book appropriate for university programs and other scholarly considerations. It includes several sections on pop culture, including an essay on representations of the Goddess in pop culture as well as the Goth movement, but these issues are handled from an analytical perspective, with respect for those who are part of these trends and yet without playing to a pop culture tune. 

If there is any issue in which I feel the book is not fully representative of American goddess-spirituality it is in the emphasis of several authors on Reclaiming. My broad experience of the on-line world of American goddess spirituality shows that both formal Reclaiming groups and the general values and ideals of Reclaiming are much less prominent in America than they are represented in this book.

I personally love the Reclaiming movement, however, and I wish these values and ideals had greater sway in the popular goddess movement in America, so I don't take offense at its exaggerated influence in the book. I dearly wish more people today took social and environmental activism to the core of their spirituality and acted on the principles they profess. Instead I find a media landscape which deadens passion and ridicules those who stand up for their beliefs actively.  

Thus to paraphrase the motto of the Society for Creative Anachronisms, this is something like the Goddess in America--as she is and should be.  This book sets out not just to document where we are but also to point a conscious way forward for the goddess community in America. 

All in all this is an excellent anthology on contemporary goddess spirituality and well worth the read.

The Art of Ritual: The difference between laughing at ourselves and laughing at our faith

I once had the honor of guiding a young woman in her first full-blown Pagan ritual. She had been to some drumming circles and Tarot readings but not a ritual with all the besoms and wands. She had also grown up in a household where spirituality was a dire affair, strictly dictated and ruled by an angry God who would supposedly damn anyone who didn’t do it “just so” to eternal agony. 

She was eager for something different, but also anxious. 

Creative Commons image by Anand Krishnamoorthi

What if we did something wrong? She was reverent and serious about learning. That is good and proper, and yet too much seriousness can be limiting.

I was not all that experienced in leading rituals and this was one of the more complex I had done. It was Samhain and I wanted to do it right. I had very specific reasons for wishing to connect with ancestors, mine and others, that year. I had recently adopted two children from a different ancestry than my own and I wanted to approach their ancestors with honor and respect to ask for their blessing on the adoption as well. 

So, it was a serious ritual. But in the first moments, my informal apprentice mixed up the quarters. We all know it happens. She was flustered and worried. But I told her we didn’t have to worry. We started the calling of the quarters over again and did it right.

Then I turned in the dim candlelight and knocked over a small bowl of libation water. I managed to catch the bowl, not break it and even save enough of the water that we could continue without interruption, but water splashed onto the floor. 

I started laughing. First, nervously but then joyfully. 

My young companion was startled. I explained that not being perfect is part of the ritual and so is laughing at ourselves. The rest of the ritual was punctuated by moments of laughter and once when we both started laughing for no good reason and couldn’t stop. 

But it was still one of the most powerful small-group rituals I’ve ever known. The energy was intense and I truly felt the blessing and protection of many ancestors.

I tell this story because it is good to keep in mind that laughter has its place in ritual, as do mistakes and a bit of silliness now and then. Some rituals guide us to laugh away negative energies or to laugh in order to overcome difficulties. And these are good uses of laughter.

That said however, silliness should not be the focus of every ritual. And while we should learn to laugh at ourselves and our troubles, we should not laugh at or mock ancestors, the spirits of the land or our gods, Some people are going to be rolling their eyes reading this and calling me a “pious Pagan,” whatever that’s supposed to mean.

But I’m not actually saying that we should remain reverent in order to avoid curses and the thunderbolts of Thor. I was not raised with that jealous, angry god with a hell full of torment and fire, and yet I do see how fearing retribution for irreverence puts one on a slippery slope.
That’s not what I’m talking about here.

It is the mere fact of inner truth and faith.

I was given the task of reviewing the book The Art of Ritual by Rachel Patterson. The book purports to give an overall basis for ritual. And yet it is full of attempts at lightheartedness, which are not particularly funny. It needs a good line edit. And it is more of an example of how to pretend to do ritual while laughing out of the side of your mouth to make sure your friends know you don't really believe this stuff. 

There are word-use and terminology mistakes, such as calling Mabon "the Autumn Solstice." ("Solstice" means "the sun standing still," which is the appearance when the sun’s movement changes direction at the Winter and Summer Solstices. It does not happen in any way at the Equinoxes.) In another gaff, there is an attempt at the re-imagining of the myth of Atlas, which falls flat when the author says Atlas was was relieved of his "turmoil" instead of "torment." There was no sense that the author meant Atlas had some inner conflict and outer turmoil would likely be much less boring than holding up the sky for eternity.. 

The honest mistakes may simply be the consequences of a small, over-taxed publisher and they can easily be forgiven. But errors close to the heart of the matter do dissipate the author’s credibility. 

More troubling still are the author’s references to matters of faith. Patterson says, jokingly, of her attraction to the god of life force and nature by whatever name he is called, “For me, it’s all about the antlers.” This and many other notes in the book insinuate that many parts of this spiritual practice are done for image and the street cred of the priest or priestess. While that isn’t out-of-bounds in and of itself, there is no corresponding depth or sense of real purpose in the rituals. 

The author talks about energy glibly, how to call this kind or dispel that kind. But the only explanation of energy or investigation of the purpose of ritual is contained in a tiny passage describing rubbing one’s hands together to raise heat and feel it between your hands.

It is as if an atheist wrote a how-to cookbook for people who want to dress up as Pagans in order to impress their friends. I doubt that's the case. The author is probably a very spiritual person trying to navigate the market for books on Pagan issues. I think if the book were marketed not as the full "art of ritual" but rather as the outer "ritual tools and scripts" I would have much less to complain about.

At every turn the author describes in detail physical objects for ritual or specific actions for ritual and then goes to extreme in denying any real need for them, never explaining that ritual objects and actions are aids to meditation and focus. Perhaps the author wants to avoid stating any of the reasons for ritual objects and actions to ensure that no one can contradict her. The problem is that this leaves the core of the book hollow.

The focus on image over depth in this book points at a troubling demographic phenomenon in which many Neopagans are Pagan not because they believe in our gods but because they don’t believe in the angry god with those threats of hell. They are accustomed to “not believing,” and they see Paganism as a religion where anything goes and nothing is sacred. It is an identity to wear proudly but not one to internalize.

Everyone has their own path and I don’t think most people dabbling in Paganism or witchcraft are likely to unleash some sort of negativity due to a lack of reverence. Our gods aren’t like that and I’m not here to judge others on their path, least of all those who have been through religious abuse and are most in need of some laughter. On the other hand, an overall frivolous and shallow approach to ritual isn’t what I would recommend. And thus I can’t really recommend The Art of Ritual as a general book on ritual. It may, however, be helpful to those who are too serious or afraid of negativity in ritual.

Ritual to me must be rooted in some authentic belief, even if it is only the inexplicable sense that “there is something out there.” We shouldn’t take ourselves too seriously, but we should hold something sacred—at least the earth, at least the hunger and need in the world. In times as troubled as ours, when we are threatened by imminent and disastrous human-caused climate change, war and massive multiple refugee crises, the art of ritual should come primarily from what is sacred to those practicing the ritual.

Ritual is first and foremost about deepening either personal or community experience and there is no word about this in The Art of Ritual. When we do rituals imperfectly and laugh to free ourselves from fear, it is an opening of spirit. When one laughs at the deepening experience of ritual, the spirit closes. 

The Autumn Equinox / Mabon: A time for balance, gratitude and animals

When the earth balances on the equator and night and day are equal, it is said that you can balance an egg on end. I've tried. Balance is hard won. 

Living, parenting, working, playing, gardening, canning, feeding, listening, talking, shouting sometimes when integrity demands that one speak up--it feels like standing in a river with the water rushing hard against my legs.

Creative Commons image by James Jordan

In the last days of summer, I did just that. I braced myself in the river below a small levy, so that my kids and then other people's kids could slide down over a little bit of white water in safety. I caught each kid as they hurtled toward me in the current and sung them toward a calm eddy. It was exhilarating--feeling the pull of the river, knowing its power and being in league with it in some small way.

Balance.

It isn't passive. It's rolling with the stream of events and not getting bruised on the rocks.

The autumn equinox is also called Mabon. It is the central harvest feast, the natural Thanksgiving day and likely closer to the "original Thanksgiving" in the United States than the one in November. But regardless this has been a time for giving thanks for thousands of years, for counting up the food warmth, energy and hope stored up for the season ahead and for looking at what has been accomplished in our lives.

As leaves begin to turn and the first hard, cold rain falls, I am looking toward a different sort of winter this year. For the first time, our modest urban homestead includes more animals than just a cat. We do have a cat again, a growing young cat, pushing beyond kittenhood. But we also have ducks, who have spent the summer saving our garden from marauding slugs. Now it is time for us to deliver on promises made, The ducks will have to be fed and kept warm through the long, gray winter. This is our very real thanks for their service and our hope that they will do so again next year.

Image by Arie Farnam

In many ancient cultures, this time of year was connected with animals--both wild and domestic--and probably for similar reasons. This is when hunting begins in earnest in many areas. It is a time, when domestic animals are drawn in closer to home and we appreciate what they give us. Those who don't have domestic animals are reminded simply by the theme of the season to extend their gratitude to the animals that give us food, clothing and other goods. We also recognize the invaluable companionship many animals give, while living with people. And last but not least, the animals who provide skilled and greatly needed aid to people with disabilities and serious illnesses.

If you find yourself wishing for a connecting to nature, mark this Autumn Equinox with attention to the balance (or lack their of) in your life. Make adjustments, ensure that you have stores of energy and hope as well as the means to see yourself and those you care for through the winter. And in that balance, whether you are vegetarian or not, acknowledge your interconnection with animals. They rely on us and we rely on them.

Find a way to show your thanks for their part in your life. Give your animals a treat, put out bird food or a treat for the deer that isn't a hunting lure. 

May Mabon's blessings bring you joy and plenty!

A children's rhyme to learn the elements and quarters

My kids are a bit hyperactive. Trying to teach them something meditative and spiritual can be a challenge--a challenge requiring creativity.

Here's one thing my kids love. They love to jump on our huge trampoline. And they love adult attention. The combination of adult attention and the trampoline, jumping with an adult while doing an activity is seriously motivating. So, I use this to teach them many necessary things, whether it is foreign language vocabulary for school, math facts or Pagan concepts. 

If you can yell it in rhythm, the trampoline will teach it. Count to ten or twenty in a variety of languages. Sing the days of the weeks, the months, the Wheel of the Year, the multiplication tables, spelling words, whatever. The trampoline is a great memorization tool.

Here is my latest inspiration from trampoline time, a rhyme for leaning the elements and quarters. I hope it may be helpful to a few others.

East for thinking and dawn of day
South for will and joyful play.
West for love, sorrow and soul.
North for my body, strong and whole.

Bringing Race to the Neopagan Table: an exploration of a taboo subject

The Neopagan community today is an odd combination of a publisher’s Summerland and a publisher’s Hel. There are wildly popular markets and bewildering hundreds upon thousands of books on some Pagan topics—cookbook-style spell books, books promising an instant cool factor and a good many serious books on specific gods, goddesses, methods and re-constructionist traditions. But there are some areas of great interest and concern that are untouchable, effectively off-limits to most publishers.

Creative Commons image by Debs of Flickr.com

One of those issues is the quagmire of Neopagan race politics. It’s a scary swamp of murky definitions, guilt, fear, hate and accusations—cultural appropriation, stifled multiculturalism, isolated Santerians, Neo-Nazis masquerading as re-constructionist Heathens and lots and lots of white people confused about the concept of being a “minority” versus having “privilege.”

There is no conceivable way to enter this swamp without being criticized from one quarter or another (or all at once). It reminds me of writing articles from the interethnic war zones of the former Yugoslavia. The only way I knew I was even slightly on track was when I worked very hard to understand every side and then everyone was angry when I went to press. When one side was totally happy with me, I worried. 

That makes me think the book Bringing Race to the Table, which tackles the issue of race in the Neopagan community is doing a damned good job in a difficult crossfire. There is no way that anyone will be 100 percent happy with all of the opinions expressed in this anthology, because the authors don’t all agree with one another on all issues.

I would give this book top marks, five stars or whatever the equivalent, not because I agree with everything in the book. I have some quibbles. But because it does an excellent job of tackling such an incredibly difficult issue. And my quibbles are all on matters in which I agree with some of the authors but not others. I learned a massive amount by reading this book.

Being white, I learned fast and hard during the first half of the book, which reflects more the perspectives of people of color in Neopagan communities and I squirmed uncomfortably at times in the second half which reflects more the perspectives of white people. But this anthology represents most essentially an act of great courage both by the publisher and the authors, treading into a minefield and making a blessed good stab a very hard task.  

As a white Pagan who is part of a racially mixed family, I have become convinced over the past five years that the issue of race is the Achilles heel of the Euro-centric Neopagan movement. I believe that we either solve this problem, clean the skeletons out of our closets and lay them to rest or our movement will go the way of the Flower Children, to be remembered by future generations as a short fling with reinvigorating ancient Paganism, an attempt that was doomed by deficits in spiritual depth and inclusivity. 

Is Paganism a fashion statement or a religion? That is the question and oddly enough race is at the core of it. Many Neopagans have been hiding from the issue of race, pretending that “European Paganism,” which somehow ended up including Egyptian, Romani (Gypsy), Middle Eastern, Classical, Celtic and Heathen Paganism but nothing else is somehow distinct as a “religion” and that we can clearly identify a tradition, a goddess, a culture or an individual as “European” or not. In this paradigm race becomes a non-issue because the nature of this “religion” is that it originated in Europe. 

Creative Commons image by Duncan Price

I hate to break it to those folks, but Egypt is not in Europe anymore than Nigeria is. And there is nothing all that unique or unified about European Pagan traditions. Celtic traditions share a lot of similarity with Native American beliefs. Most Pagan traditions worldwide share many similar tenants and often eerily similar details in mythology. Any line we draw around one continent’s Paganism is an arbitrary line and thus a line that cuts open the can of worms called “race,” no matter how hard we try to hold it closed.

The trouble Neopagans have with race begins with the fact that we don’t talk about race. When Moon Books sought to create an anthology of Pagan thought in the 21st century and titled it Pagan Planet (not Pagan Anglo-Empire), they forgot to include anything about non-European Pagans. It’s an all too common pitfall. 

But worse than that, some Pagans do talk about race—just carefully and when it is about the white race. During recent racially charged incidents in the United States and Europe, I have seen several news items posted on Pagan forums with emotive posts in support of white parties in the conflicts, but I have not seen Pagan posts sympathetic to victims of crime who are people of color. 

When I recently posted a news item critical of white supremacist groups in the United States on my own page (and thus not intruding on specifically Pagan forums) I was insulted and shamed by several members of Neopagan groups to which I belong who noticed my page. This may seem little different from the regular verbal sparring over political and social issues that goes on every day on social media, but after long observation on Pagan forums, a pattern emerges in which most members of Neopagan groups are silent about injustices against people of color. 

A vocal minority in the Neopagan on-line community shames and attacks those who speak up for people of color while posting their own racially charged items that favor people of white appearance. No one in turn shames or insults these white-favorable posts in Neopagan forums. Those of us who dislike such posts generally want to keep the peace and we hope the racist end of the Neopagan community will somehow just go away. In the end, there is an atmosphere where discussions of racial tensions in society is taboo with the exception of posts favorable to white-supremacist and European-heritage-only Pagan groups. It is difficult to imagine that people of color could feel comfortable in such a community. 

The lack of a non-European perspective in the book Pagan Planet is a clear symptom of the problem. A book that references the whole planet, that is supposed to take a broad look at Paganism in the twenty-first century, published by a respected Pagan publisher—one of the most up-to-date books of its type—contains almost no mention on race. That’s why we needed Bringing Race to the Table, edited by Crystal Blanton, Taylor Ellwood and Brandy Williams.
Crystal Blanton describes some of the things that people of color encounter when attending Neopagan meetings and events: “From strange, questioning looks when someone walks into circle to asking a Hispanic practitioner if she is the maid at a Pagan event, all of these types of interactions happen within our community.” 

There is a difficult interethnic tension in the very term “Pagan.” Many non-European indigenous religions that would otherwise fit the definition of an earth-based polytheistic spirituality, are not considered Pagan either because their adherents vocally reject the Pagan label or because European Neopagans fear that they might be offended. Thus Hindus, Native American spiritual practitioners, Santerians and many others are often not considered “Pagan,” despite fitting all of the definition except the “European” part. 

Blanton theorizes that the root cause of incidents that are unwelcoming of people of color is inherent in this assumption that European Paganism is the norm in the Neopagan definition: “The fundamental assumption that we are attempting to integrate into a community that is not ours is the root of all these microaggressions. The Eurocentric construction of the Pagan community lends to a structure that coincides with greater society, making Caucasian the default, the overculture. This structure automatically “others” people of color.”

Creative Commons image by Porter Rockwell

There are some corners of the Neopagan community where groups openly state that they are only open to those of European heritage, justifying themselves by saying that there are groups which are only open to those of Native American or African heritage and insisting that they wish to have an authentic Re-constructionist experience of their ancestral spirituality. 

Blanton explains, “I was recently told that I could not join a specific group of Heathen practitioners because I was not of European descent. When I challenged that, and actually concluded that I was [of European descent], I was told I still could not participate because I was not of ‘primary European descent.’ When I asked how that was measured, I was not given an answer that was consistent among those who would apply. In the end, I concluded that looks would be the determining factor of whether someone was of primary European descent, and although I would not qualify, my son would because of his sandy hair and blue eyes.”

I personally have encountered a related problem. As an obviously white person with light-colored hair, I was allowed to attend several Neopagan events in Central Europe until local groups met my children, who have darker skin and hair. Then I was given the cold shoulder and told that only European practices and deities were acceptable, even as organizers of the event held a large ritual honoring Egyptian gods. Somehow European Neopagans have decided that Egypt is part of European, not African, heritage.

Genetic exclusivity is a thorny issue, because there are indigenous spiritual groups from many continents who maintain genetic exclusivity as a means of protecting their cultural and spiritual treasures from continued exploitation and colonization by those in possession of greater wealth and power. This is one of the areas where I disagree with some authors in Bringing Race to the Table.  I understand that there are good reasons people of color must protect indigenous traditions and European Neopagans don’t encounter the same pressures. 

Creative Commons image by Dan Meineck

However, the world is now full of racially mixed individuals such as Blanton as well as the descendants of indigenous individuals who were removed from their culture of origin and either adopted or “reeducated” in boarding schools and other institutions. These individuals, both mixed race and those whose cultural heritage has been stolen or hidden from them (and thus who may not even know of their genetic background) are harmed most by genetic exclusivity. Beyond that, many people of European heritage now live on land that was stolen from indigenous peoples many generations before. While wallowing in guilt over what one’s distant ancestors did helps no one, to simply transplant European Neopagan traditions to these lands and utterly ignore the indigenous traditions of the land on which one lives feels callus and simply spiritually wrong.

The issue of cultural appropriation is related, however, and it causes significant confusion in Neopagan communities. Unlike the few genetically exclusive groups, most Neopagans insist that they want more people of color in their circles and that because they embrace various parts of Native American, Asian or African cultures or spiritual teachings, they are multicultural and welcoming of people of different races. The problem is that this very adoption of bits and pieces from other cultures (and most often the adoption of the titles of spiritual leaders such as “Shaman” or “Medicine Woman” and identifying one’s self as one of these without clear knowledge of even which culture the term belongs to) is often felt as a slap in the face by people of color. It can feel like the flaunting of the spoils of colonialism and when those from outside the culture set up shop as teachers of an indigenous culture in order to profit from their incomplete knowledge, it adds insult to injury.

Neopagans often struggle with these issues, trying to be sensitive to indigenous cultures but feeling the need to connect beyond cultural boundaries. Yvonne Ryves writes about her shamanic practice that is guided by spirit allies of various cultures: “My guides are also not Celtic, nor is the shamanism I practice. In fact my shamanism still doesn’t link to any particular culture, but this no longer concerns me. As I am taught by my guides I may learn something that links to the culture they are from, for example early on, my Native American guide taught me how to make an offering to bird spirits with sage and feathers. This doesn’t make my shamanism Native American in any way though, especially as I make my own sage bundles from the sage I have growing in my garden, working with the spirit of that which is native to where I live.” 

While such practices are well-meant and authentic to the practitioner, adopting a term such as “Shaman” and using it out of context—Shamanism technically is Central Asian and does not refer to all out-of-body journeying techniques—can make people from indigenous cultures mentioned uncomfortable and thus alienate them from Pagan circles, where they might otherwise find an appropriate umbrella for their spirituality. 

As a result, some among both whites and people of color insist that cultural appropriation occurs when those not born to or given primary access to a certain tradition use the symbols, teachings, terminology or practices of that tradition.  However, this is another area where the authors of Bringing Race to the Table don’t have consensus. Reluctant Spider, a writer of African heritage, rejects the rigid genetic/ethnic measurement of cultural appropriation. She points out that unbiased application is impossible when some Greek myths have African origins and even Thor has ties to Ethiopia. 

Several authors of Bringing Race to the Table struggle to define the exact boundaries of cultural appropriation. Is it a question of power imbalance, when those with greater access to education, wealth and leisure time take what they want from those with less resources for spiritual study? Is it the cherry picking of only some terms, images or misrepresented concepts from other cultures and interpreting them through the lens of one’s own culture? Is it when the mystery of another culture is used for gain, whether to sell something or to claim titles and positions of spiritual authority? There is no easy answer but the common theme seems to be the attitude and respect with which we interact with other cultures. Neopagans do often give that respect when taking from other sources but sometimes they don’t.

Paradoxically, the final reason that people of color often don’t feel welcome in Neopagan communities is a lack of respectful and culturally sensitive inclusion of the deities, terms and practices of non-European earth-based traditions. Essentially, there must be some respectful cultural integration in order for Neopaganism to become inclusive. 

For instance, most encyclopedias of deities popular in the Neopagan community either put the vast majority of their focus on European and classical deities or include deities of various continents with the conspicuous exception of sub-Saharan Africa. Naming the Goddess, edited by Trevor Greenfield is an example. The latest edition of the Encyclopedia of Goddesses and Heroines by Patricia Monagham  includes some African deities but they are only either Egyptian or African diaspora deities and this is the far progressive end of the spectrum with countless books entirely devoted to northern European and classical deities.

Reluctant Spider, one of the authors of Bringing Race to the Table, set up an objective experiment to determine the acceptance and placement of non-European deities and images in the Neopagan community. Because so much of the community is on-line, the on-line reflection of the community can be assumed to be fairly true of overall attitudes. And because the rankings of Google searches are based primarily on popularity statistics, such searches can accurately reflect what is appreciated in a community, as well as what has the backing of major organizations and funders. Therefore, Reluctant Spider used Google Image searches as an objective measure of the prevalence of images of non-European deities in 2014. She searched for specific terms and then counted the number of images of Caucasian deities one had to pass by in order to reach a single image of a non-European deity. 

First she simply entered the term “Goddess.” After 21 images of European goddesses, she encountered one Native American goddess. After two more, at number 23, she encountered a Hindi image. There were 35 images before she found a goddess image with skin dark enough to be conceivably African, although the image had European nose and lip features as well as bright green eyes. After 65 images she finally encountered a tree nymph with a green leafy afro. There were occasionally other Hindu images as well as Egyptian iconography, but there were no other black African goddess images. She stopped counting at 200.  

While a Google Image search is a reasonably objective tool Reluctant Spider’s first search was simply the term “Goddess” and it would not only produce results from Neopagan sites or forums. It would produce all images associated with the term “Goddess.” She also entered the search terms “Black Goddess,” “African Goddess,” “African American Goddess,” and “Latina Goddess.” Instead of resulting in a flood of more culturally diverse goddess images, these terms resulted in lists of images featuring secular celebrities and sexualized models. Then she tried “White Goddess” and she was returned to actual goddess images, primarily those of the Neopagan community with a scattering of historical sites. But of course the real test was when she put in the term “Pagan Goddess.” In this case there were no results showing a goddess resembling an African within 200 results. (Reluctant Spider 2015, 8-9%)

Clearly, filtering the original search for Neopagan sites resulted in an even more extreme lack of multicultural images. I have unintentionally replicated these experiments many times while searching for appropriate Goddess images for my racially mixed family and coming up frustrated. It is important to remember that it is the actions and preferences of millions of Google users—what they share and pay attention to—that is reflected in such a Google Images search. This makes these results all the more troubling. We have no one to blame it on and it is very likely to be a true reflection of the aesthetics preferred by most English-speaking Pagans today. 

After reading Bringing Race to the Table, I must conclude that the Neopagan community falls woefully short of meaningful inclusivity at the present time. While the authors sometimes don’t agree with one another, their differences are invariably about details, such as the exact definition of “cultural appropriation.” 

Blanton argues that this unfortunate state of affairs will not change until Neopagans openly take action for racial inclusivity: “We cannot pretend that our spirituality makes us decent people if we are not out there fighting to make things right in areas of inequity for people of color. We justify away what makes us uncomfortable. We also excuse rules, prejudices and guidelines that eliminate the participation of people of color. Then the community ignores the lack of black and brown faces in our circles or conventions, excusing it away instead of exploring it.”

Bringing Race to the Table is the best source of material for investigating these issues at present. I wish it could be required reading for all Neopagans. Given that that won’t happen, I hope that Neopagans who do care about these issues will read it and be vocal about the problems. Our future depends on it.

“The road forward in an inclusive community would have to start with an honest evaluation of how our actions are causing intentional and often unintentional harm by setting a culture that is not welcoming or embracing of those who do not fall within the walls of our Euro-centric overculture,” Blanton writes.

The women's wheel of the world

Celebrating of the rhythms of the earth through the goddesses of many cultures

Today many of us wish to connect to the cycles of nature. In our houses, jobs and schools, it can be difficult to feel a purpose in life. We lose touch, lose connection, and find ourselves drowning in everyday apathy or anxiety. 

There is an antidote in marking the rhythms of nature and feeling closer to the earth and the seasons of the sun. 

It isn’t just a nostalgic hippie concept. It’s a spiritual practice and a way to explore the huge questions in life in a way that doesn’t contradict science. For those of us who think too much, there is often a tension between the need for a spiritual sense of meaning and our logical insistence that what you see is what you get. 

The turning of the earth and the moon, the tilt of the earth and the seasons brought by sunlight—these are things science has well in hand. We know the sun will rise, just as we know bad days have only twenty-four hours. We know winter will come, just as we know that each of us has to get old someday. 

The rhythms of nature are simple and scientific. And at the same time they are profound and at the root of the greatest philosophical and spiritual traditions of humanity. The cycle of life is much larger than the circle of a year, but the whole is too vast—and frankly too harsh—to explain to children or even to contemplate directly as an adult. But we don't take in the circle of a year all at once. We come to it bit by bit. And we don’t have to contemplate it with the mind only. We use all of our senses, our body, heart and soul to perceive natural rhythms and the Wheel of the Year gives us the understanding we cannot gain through force of will.

The sacred sun days

Creative Commons image by Lostintheredwoods of flickr.com

As the earth tilts toward and away from the sun, we experience seasons. At the point when our part of the earth is tilted furthest toward the sun, we have the Summer Solstice--the time of greatest light. And when our part is tilted away we have the Winter Solstice. After each solstice we start to lean the other way. From light to darkness. And from darkness to light.

In the ancient tradition of the Celtic-Germanic-Slavic land I live on these solstices can be called Litha (for the Summer Solstice) and Yule (for the Winter Solstice). These are the best modern terms we have, originating from ancient European languages. Other cultures may have other terms for the solstices and the other sacred days of the wheel. My goal is to include the whole world and other terms are welcome.

Between these special days of the sun, there are the days when the light and dark are in perfect balance—the equinoxes. In the fall we call the equinox Mabon. In the spring we call the day of balance Ostara. 

If you make a cross and put the solstices opposite one another at the ends of one line and the equinoxes on the other axis, you have an ancient symbol of the sun. And if you make an X inside the cross, you then have a star with eight points or a wheel, the base of a mandala pattern. The four new points are for the days halfway between the equinoxes and solstices. Beltane on the first of May in the northern hemisphere (November in the south), Lammas at the cusp of August in the north (February in the south), Samhain on the first of November in the north (May in the south), and Imbolc in the earliest days of February in the north (August in the south). And that is what is called the Wheel of the Year.

It is a way of celebrating the rhythm of life and it starts as a recognition that there is darkness, release, relief, creation, expression, harvest, destruction, transformation—in natural and perpetual turning. When you mark the seasons of the year as sacred, your body, mind and soul reclaim their own rhythms. It doesn’t mean that you don’t suffer from life. But it connects you to the good in each season.

The Sacred Women from Around the World

There are many ways to celebrate the Wheel of the Year. We often cook special foods and exchange gifts. There are fun traditions for the whole family to enjoy and quiet observances for those who seek spiritual sustenance. One way to mark the sun days is to connect to the diverse spiritual teachings of our world through the myths of sacred women—the Goddess—and the many names for goddess in different tongues.

Marking the holy days with goddesses can be part of an active and vibrant family celebration or it can be a simple and quiet moment of meditation for an individual. The goddesses chosen for a sacred day should reflect the spirit of the season in their stories. Here I will suggest three goddesses for each of the solar holidays. As in many parts of the world, you can see goddesses as maidens, mothers and crones. There is a Maiden Goddess, a goddess full of independence and youth; a Mother Goddess, a nurturer and life-giver; and a Crone Goddess, a wise woman of healing and transformation--for each station of the sun.

Imbolc

My year begins in mid-winter because of importance of the alternating rhythm of the growing season and the time of greater contemplation and inner work. I also wish to start the year with the goddess I am closest with—Brigid. Our family Imbolc celebration usually includes a small, child-friendly ritual, sweet dumplings made with milk curd, seed cakes, many lit candles and candle making, candle-shaped cookies, Tarot and i-Ching readings, putting wishes for the year into a jar, hanging new Brigid’s crosses and waking up the Brigid doll sleeping in a basket by the fire on the morning of Imbolc. It may also include a trip to a spring or old well if we can manage it.

Creative Commons image by  the Borghese Collection

Brigid is the maiden of Imbolc and though she is also mother and wise woman in other aspects (Weber 2015),  I can add mother and crone goddesses to this day as well. 

Saulė is the Latvian “dear little white sun,” (Motz 1997) and a good mother goddess for the cold day of Imbolc. She also shares the care of orphans with Brigid, who is often called “foster mother” either of Christ when she is portrayed as a Christian saint or of the one offering prayers in Pagan prayer. (Daimler 2016) Because my husband and I are adoptive parents, this has particular meaning in our family. We could easily incorporate an offering of endearments to Saulė. And given that we don’t do Valentine’s Day here and my children often wonder what their American cousins are talking about, we could include making heart shaped endearments for one another, as words of endearment are special to Saulė. (Motz 1997)

Elli is my crone of Imbolc. She is the goddess of old age and wisdom and yet I find the story of her beating Thor in a wrestling match (Auset 2009) to be wonderfully light-hearted. She reminds me of an old granny sitting by the Imbolc fire and laughing over her exploits and the folly of head-strong young people who think they will never be old. A symbol of her might be a shawl spread over the rocking chair by the fire and a story read from the children’s book of Grandmother Tales that portray old women as smart and capable. 

I can envision these three—Brigid, Saulė and Elli—discussing the needs of family and kin, planning fo the year ahead and tempering one another with their complimentary energies of fire, compassion and wisdom.

Ostara

Our Ostara tradition is usually fairly simple. We color eggs, decorate and make egg and bunny shaped cookies. Then the children hunt for eggs on the morning of the equinox. In local tradition, we decorate a leafless tree in the front yard with colored eggs and ribbons. We may read rabbit stories or other stories relating to Ostara. We’ll usually have a special lunch or dinner consisting of lots of eggs, such as quiche.

The name of the day Ostara comes from a maiden goddess. Ostara or Ostre is the the Saxon goddess of youth, fertility and beauty, who is accompanied by a hare. (Sass 2003) Her symbols are eggs and the hare which are already well incorporated into our traditions, although it is good to remember her with words at this time and consciously honor her through these symbols.

Anna Perenna is my Mother Goddess for Ostara. She is the enduring year, the goddess of the promise of a new cycle. (Monagham 2014)  We honor her at Ostara to give thanks for the promised return of spring, which is in our part of the world very heartfelt for everyone, and also to remember that the year will turn again, inexorably and always. We can make our quiche or other dishes this day round in honor of her. And because she is considered a trickster as well, we can plan April Fools pranks. 

The crone of Ostara is the Cailleach, the Celtic lady of chaos, harsh winds and primordial forces. (Greenfield 2014) We often have snow on Ostara, a last blast of winter coating our Ostara tree in white. The threat of weather disasters for our tiny seedlings is far from over and still keep them indoors at this season. The Cailleach is fearsome and a reminder that chaos can come despite Anna Perenna’s turning of the wheel. But she also lends us inner strength, a vitality and perseverance that is often lacking in the modern, overly convenienced world. She is also the Celtic equivalent of the crone of the cold season that our local legend bids a raucous farewell at Beltane, so it is fitting to have her in mind beforehand. We can honor the Cailleach by making a wind chime of feathers and metal objects that will bring her voice to the wind.

Beltane

Our Beltane celebration has been in my husband’s home village for many years now. The village has a huge bonfire and a fifty-food maypole. This tends to overshadow anything I try to do. However, I always get together some sort of flower-shaped sweets and May baskets for us to give to neighbors and cousins during the festivities. We sometimes go out to greet the beautiful Beltane morning and place offerings at the base of the maypole. Otherwise it is a community event involving cooking whatever will feed the most people.

Creative Commons image by PROLisby of Flickr.com

Ilankaka is the Nkondo maiden goddess for our Beltane. She is both creative and loving, but she also reminds us of the struggles of relationships, because she is captured by a man against her will and suffers great sorrow. (Monagham 1997) Beltane is a time of celebrating relationships and also making them better. The Maiden gives us the will to stand strong in ourselves as well and Ilankaka’s story is pertinent.

Panchamama is a delightful Incan mother goddess, honored in an unbroken line by tribes in the Andes and is still going strong today. She is an earth mother, a garden goddess and a “special companion” for women. (Leeming and Page 1994) May is they primary gardening month in our climate, when everything is planted and weeds grow desperately to beat the short growing season. It is a month when my life is very domestic and I love the idea of honoring Panchamama at this time.

The crone for Beltane might be Changing Woman. Her name in the Navajo language is Asdzan Nadleehe and she carries our ability to change within our lifetime, to be transformed and renewed at every age. (Loar (2008) There is a strong sense that Beltane is a time of when transformation is more possible, closer to the surface and a time to embrace the lessons of Changing Woman.

One of the ways I would recognize these goddesses is to put small offerings symbolic of their traditions in the earth at the base of the Maypole. We could leave a bright stone of polished marble (symbolic of Ilankaka’s brigtht radiance), some colored wooden beads like those often used in the Andes (as a symbol of Panchamama) and either a feather or a piece of snake skin (as symbols of Changing Woman). I would ask for the blessings of these goddesses on Beltane morning—the strength and independence to be a strong and healthy partner with the energy of the maiden Ilankaka still vibrant in my married life, the deep earth connection of Panchamama (and her help with my garden), and the ability to transform beautifully as does Changing Woman. 

Litha

The Summer Solstice is the solar holiday we have the least tradition for in our family. We often do little more than have a nice meal and try yet again to explain to the children about solstices from a scientific perspective. I try to have a bonfire but it isn’t always possible, sometimes due to lots of rain. This year for the first time, we will go to a local Pagan event that is appropriate for children. I am still searching for traditions for this time. If I could choose it would be playing music and drumming around a fire or some other activity involving expression and creativity.

Amaterasu is my Maiden Goddess for this time. She is often honored  in June in Japan. (Monagham, P. (2014) To me her seeming narcissism is a reminder of the necessity of putting ourselves out into the world, particularly women and especially when we are young. Today’s world is not kind to those who remain too passive. For better or for worse, we need goals and pride in our identity if we are to find a material life and work which brings us joy and fulfillment. Placing a small mirror on a flat stone or sundial to reflect a bit of the sun back into the sky, may be integrated into a ritual for Amaterasu.

Beiwe, the Arctic sun goddess, is the mother for this time. While the sun may seem too hot in many climates it is worth remembering that the northern climates need her warmth and life-giving energy. We are far enough north that even in the temporary heat, we have reason to see the sun as a nurturing mother. She can be honored by making “sun circles” out of leafing branches, (Monagham, P. (2014) and these could be placed around Amaterasu’s mirror.

Al-Lat is the ancient Middle Eastern sun goddess to provide a crone for this height of the sun’s power. She may be integrated into the ritual with a black stone or an eye drawn onto the mirror. 

Lammas

Lammas usually involves a camping trip or bonfire with friends, many of whom don’t share goddess spirituality, so my ritual celebration of the day is often quite simple. I like to make bread in interesting shapes and an outdoor altar if possible. I have a special tablecloth that everyone signs as a symbol of community and the feast.

White Buffalo Woman is my Maiden goddess for this time. She is both warrior and generous benefactor. She supports the community and brings the deeper meaning to community festivities that I long for. Her lessons involve respect for ecology and the earth, honoring warriors and defenders of the clan, as well as the desire to give back whatever it is that fills us with abundance. (Greenfield 2014) A perfect symbol of White Buffalo Woman is a picture or figure of a white cow, calf or horse.

Creative Commons image by Rosa y Dani of Flickr. com

 Saraswati is the Mother Goddess for this time, sharing her knowledge as a teacher. The earth is abundant at this time, but the wisdom to use the gifts of plenty wisely is crucial. Saraswati is not only a mother of abundance but also a mother of wise counsel, teaching and learning. A good symbol to bring her blessings to the day is a book.

Macha is the crone for this time of community and sharing. While White Buffalo Woman brings gentle gifts and fierce courage to the community and Saraswati brings the knowledge needed to nurture community, Macha embodies the energy of the activist for environmental and social justice, which is another important aspect of this day. Her energy be brought with a banner or sign with messages of the justice needed at the time. 

These symbols—a white animal, a book and a sign or banner—can be used to decorate the home or gathering of friends. This is a way to bring the healthy and beneficial energy of community together. 

Mabon

At Mabon we gather our family and sometimes close friends for a meal of thanksgiving. We visit or send gifts to older people. We also give gifts to or do kind things for animals. In my family the primary focus of Mabon is giving thanks and recognizing those who have given to us—for example our elders through all the struggles they have been through to bring us to this time and the animals that provide us with food, clothing, comfort, friendship and a healthy ecosystem to live in. 

Tabiti is a maiden goddess of hearth, family loyalty, harmony in the home and the protection of animals. (Auset 2009) She is also associated with the chieftains of family and clan and with oath giving. MacLeod 1960). Coals from the hearth make a good symbol for her and reiterating the oaths of family bonds and other commitments is a good way to honor her. New oaths may be given at Mabon feasts as well.

White Shell Woman is the Mother Goddess for Mabon. She watches over the crops and gardens that most directly sustain the family. She is a goddess of thanksgiving and the promise of light. (Hunt 2001) Both shells and corn are symbols of White Shell Woman. The best way to honor her is to give thanks for the many blessings we have, both material and immaterial. Even if we may still feel the lack of something, there is much to be thankful for, and gratitude brings many rewards.

Asase Yaa is the crone for this time. A Ghanian old woman of the land, she reminds us of the hard work needed to get nourishment from the earth. We must honor the work of those who labor hard so that we might eat as well as the sacrifices of previous generations. (Auset 2009) A symbol for Asase Yaa might well be a shovel or other tool of toil. To honor elders and those who have worked hard is to honor her.

One way to bring these energies together might be to allow each person in the gathering to say what they have to be thankful for in their lives. Each may throw corn or corn meal onto the fire as they finish speaking. Then each person could speak briefly of someone who they wish to honor, an elder or someone who has worked hard, and use a metal shovel to scoop out a bit of the embers of the fire. When the embers cool to ash, each person may state their oaths of family and community commitment, wet their hand with a little water and press it into the ash and then print their hand against a stone or wood surface prepared for this. These hand prints will then remain as reminders of the commitments made.

Samhain

With all the activities of Halloween going on, it can be difficult to get the family to focus for a moment on the spiritual side of Samhain. When my children were toddlers, they put out offerings for “Grandfather deer” and received small presents in the morning. We gave them candy and tried not to scold them for their many misdeeds on the basis of the concept that small children are “close to the ancestors.” Now as they grow older it is their turn to learn to give back and to honor ancestors as well.

My Maiden Goddess for Samhain is the Norse sun goddess Sunna. She is connected to spiritual magic and the symbol of a sun cross. (Woodfield 2014) This would be an excellent time to make bind-runes to put on talismans (a bag, shirt, doorway plaque or jewelry) for whatever magical energies you want to attract. Both bind runes and rune divination would be a way to connect with Sunna. 

Creative Commons image by Lisby of Flickr.com

Oya is the mother of nine children and my Mother Goddess for Samhain. She is a bit dark compared to most mother goddesses. Her connection to hurricanes, the transformative number nine and strong emotions of rage or fear may be frightening to some but I quickly connected with this goddess. While it is not comfortable to face these emotions, allowing them to be expressed can bring healing. I don’t necessarily want to go through hard times again, but I know that Oya can also play a part in healing from traumatic experiences, ecological devastation and social injustice. (Caputi 2004) A wild wind on a dark Samhain night is the time for Oya. Dressing up in ways that express dark and powerful emotion may be perfect way to honor her.

Baba Yaga is my Samhain crone. The contemporary stories that include her are scary enough to satisfy even secular concepts of Halloween. She is death, destruction and power, but she also grants wishes and punishes the unjust, the lazy and the apathetic bystander who tolerates injustice. (Greenfield (2014) To honor her we may make sacrifices in our lifestyle that help to redress imbalance or injustice or make commitments (Samhain resolutions of a sort) to work actively for justice and earth protection. 

Yule

Yule is already a very busy holiday for us. We have several cultures and an extended family to deal with. There are presents, big meals and various traditions happening every which way. Add to that the fact that we’ve been on a different continent away from home for two years but now we’ll be home, trying to reconstruct our home traditions. It is easy for the spiritual aspect to be overshadowed and almost impossible to hold any sort of small family ritual. The one thing we do always have is a Yule tree with decorations and usually a small scene of figures under it. This is one place where we can bring in the Goddess. 

I try to hold a brief dawn greeting of the sun with my husband and children on the morning of the Solstice. We usually also pull off a candlelight dinner the evening before with expressions of what we are thankful for and Solstice Tarot readings for the adults. 

It is into this part of the Yule celebration that I would like to bring some celebration of the Goddess. Usha, the Indian goddess of dawn, is my Maiden Goddess for Yule. Her twin sister is Night and they share the nursing of a child. They walk the same path, each in her own particular way. (Agrawala 1984).Her symbols might be a figure of an infant that is both dark and light or an infant wrapped in silk cloth with Indian designs. 

Ekhi, the Basque sun goddess (Sykes 2002) and motherly protector of humanity, is my Mother Goddess for Yule. She assures her children of hope and the eternal return of morning. She is a mother but is also born from the “reddish seas.” She reminds us of the need to stay a while in darkness in order to regenerate creative energy. She can be symbolized by a mother figure dressed in red or carrying a torch.

 Hekate is the Crone Goddess for Yule. She is a goddess of time, fate, solitude and witches, a mistress of the dead and “Keeper of the Keys to the Cosmos.” (Moss 2015) She can be symbolized by the figure of an old woman with a lantern or a key. 

Figures for these goddesses can be made out of clay or other materials and placed under the Yule tree. We can honor Ekhi at the candlelight feast on the eve of the Winter Solstice with poems of hope and thanksgiving for the promise of hope in difficult times. We can honor Hekate during the late night ritual of Solstice Tarot readings, lighting a candle in a small lantern. We can honor Usha at dawn when the sun returns.

Bibliography

Agrawala, P.K. (1984). Goddesses in Ancient India. New Dehli, India: Abhinav Publications
Auset, B. (2009). The Goddess Guide: Exploring the Attributes and Correspondences of the Divine Feminine. Woodbury, MN: Llewellyn Publications.
Caputi, J. (2004). Goddesses and Monsters. Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press.
Chaudhuri, S. K. (2003). Hindu Gods and Goddesses in Japan. New Delhi, India: Vedams.
Daimler, M. (2016). Pagan Portals - Brigid. Winchester, UK: Moon Books.
Greenfield, T. Ed (2014) Naming the Goddess: Washington, DC. Moon Books
Hunt, L. (2001). An Illustrated Meditation Guide: Celestial Goddesses. St. Paul, MN: Llewellyn Publications.
Leeming, D. and Page, J. (1994). Goddess: Myths of the Female Divine. New York, NY: Oxford University Press.)
Loar, J. (2008). Goddesses for Every Day. Navato, CA: New World Library
MacLeod, S. P. (1960). The Devine Feminine in Ancient Europe. Jefferson, NC: McFarland and Company, Inc. Publishers
Monagham, P. (1997) The New Book of Goddesses and Heroines: Woodbury, MN. Llewellyn Publications
Monagham, P. (2014). Encyclopedia of Goddesses and Heroines. Novato, CA: New World Library
Moss, V. (2015). Pagan Portals Hekate: A Devotional. Hants, UK: Moon Books
Motz, L. (1997). The Faces of the Goddess. New York, NY: Oxford University Press
Sass, R. (2003) The Old Saxon Language and Heathenry. Robert Sass)
Shaw, M (2006). Buddhist Goddesses of India. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
Slocum, S. K. Ed. (1992). Popular Arthurian Traditions. Bowling Green, OH: Bowling Green State University Popular Press.
Sykes, E. (2002). Who’s Who in Non-Classical. New York, NY: Routledge.
Warch, M. L. 2014). White Buffalo Woman. In T. Greenfield (Ed.), Naming the Goddess (pp. 328 - 330
 Weber, C. (2015). Brigid: History, Mystery and Magick of the Celtic Goddess. San Francisco, CA: Weiser Books
Woodfield, S. (2014) Drawing Down the Sun: Rekindle the Magick of the Solar Goddesses. Woodbury, MN. Llewellyn Publications

Remembering a matriarch

“Eh, girl, you’ll never find it that way,” the voice in my memory is as clear as if she’s standing right behind me.

In the days after Ostara, my beloved, chain-smoking mother-in-law died… essentially from the flu. I shake my head in sorrow yet again and set my teeth. It’s 2016, but we might as well be living in 1918 for all the good the antibiotics did.

Creative Commons image by xlibber of Flickr.com

She wasn’t that old, only 72. She washed windows earlier on the day she went into a coma from the sudden onset of opportunistic pneumonia, though she was already sick. She was the picture of a rugged farm matriarch. She always said she’d stop when she was dead, and she was right. 

She ruled her kitchen with an iron fist. She cooked all the meals and this is the first time I’ve ever been allowed to rattle around her kitchen, the first major holiday we’ve spent in her home without her. It’s the eve of Beltane and I’m trying to cook spaghetti for a house full of Czech uncles and cousins. 

I know she used to keep a lot of kitchen utensils in the front hall closet because her kitchen looks perfect and thus it has a sorry lack of storage space. I can’t find the strainer… or the cheese grater anywhere. And there are some in the family who are gleefully waiting for me to fail simply to prove one point or another.

It doesn’t help that I’m legally blind. Marie knew that well enough but she never made much of it. “Eh, girl, you go on and get the wood. I’ll get lunch.”

I poke through shelves full of the parts of her many mysterious kitchen appliances. She never showed me where anything was because she didn’t let anyone else fuss with her kitchen, least of all me. I was good with entertaining hordes of little cousins and hauling wood and collecting medicinal herbs. We both agreed I wasn’t that good in the kitchen. 

 She didn’t live to see me turn forty, but only by a few days. That never stopped her from calling me “girl,” not in any derogatory way. To her it was simply a statement of the difference in our generation. “Eh, girl, you’ve got so much energy. Have fun while you’re young.”

Creative Commons image by mylifeclicks1023 of Flickr.com

I can hear the men tramping on the veranda. And I don’t have anything to strain the noodles with. “Damn it, Marie, you could at least give me some ouija board sort of sign, couldn’t you?” This is a very patriarchal culture and there will be overt criticism if I don’t have lunch together properly. 

“Eh, girl.” I can hear her hoarse, ironic laugh too now. “It doesn’t work like that. I’m sorry to leave you like this.”

I’m suddenly filled with remorse, as if she were really there and I was cruelly criticizing her for not leaving her kitchen in better order. “I’m sorry, Marie. You did plenty,” I think fiercely. “You did so much for us and you left us well set up. We’ll manage. You did your part.”

The men and children spill into the hallway and the next thirty minutes are chaos. Yes, I get hassled for not having it ready. Then I get criticized for getting crumbs of cheese on the floor from using a makeshift cheese grater. We never did find the real one. 

Later I sit with the other women who have married into the family by the Beltane bonfire, watching the men of the village, including all of our husbands, raising a 50-foot maypole by hand. It’s hazardous. The damn thing could fall on them. It’s a full grown pine log after all. 

But I’m still very glad this village has hung onto the old traditions. Few places have their history so well rooted. My husband’s family farm dates back six hundred years. The long stone farmhouse itself is four-hundred years old, the walls as thick as those of a small castle. Marie used to tell me stories she had learned from the village chronicles about her husband’s family, not so much about her own. She took on many of the ideas of this patriarchal society, where a mother’s history is less important.

But they wanted to put her ashes in the Catholic church yard in the next village, with her husband’s ancestors. My husband refused and stood alone against the other men over it. She had told him she wanted her ashes buried in an urn in a beautiful place between two ponds under a great oak tree at the back of the farm, not in the yard of a church she’d never put any stock in. 

I watch the flames of the Beltane fire lick at the ragged skirts on the figure of a wood and straw “witch” the villagers made. This is also tradition. Beltane is not called Beltane here but “witch burning night.” Some say it is the crone of winter that they burn and that it is not an anti-Pagan tradition. Most of the villagers are no more Catholic than Marie was. But still the sight sends a shiver up my spine, a sharp contrast to the warm Beltane evening full of live music and revelry. 

Creative Commons image by Stewart Black

“Eh, girl, you and your earth-mother theories. Are you going to forget to pick the plantain on the hill before the mowing starts?” 

I was worried because she wouldn’t be here to remind me which herbs were ready when I visited the village. I am good with medicinal herbs if I know they’re there. But initially finding them is hard when you’re almost blind. But it seems like my memories of her will help some.

It is a wonderful Beltane all around. I’m not actually the only woman who cooks and though there is some criticism, I come through pretty well. I eat too many goodies and feel a bit guilty with that instinctive shame this society has taught me.

“Eh, girl, eat!” The most iconic statement from Marie yet. “When the fat are thin, the thin will be cold in the ground.”

She was roughly barrel-shaped herself but more muscle than anything. The same flu that killed her did make me get thinner than I’d been in quite a while. But not being thin hadn’t helped her. The cigarettes played a role. Everyone knows that but few say it.

The things we let society do to us. 

I lie down in one of the many beds late at night and whisper goodnight to the ancestors in the walls made of field stones. 

Then I think of all the cooking to deal with in the morning. “I’ll keep the hearth warm, Marie. I’m not the matriarch you were and don’t want to be, but at least on Beltane, I’ll make sure your people are fed.”

Spirituality in Practice: Pagans, the Pope and the Earth

I recently shared a post about struggling to live the reality of my beliefs on an on-line forum for Pagans and people with earth-centered spirituality. I don’t have all the answers. I work hard to live in an environmentally sustainable way and I still find myself falling short of goals to reduce my negative impact on the earth. 

The post stirred up some anger and I was labeled a “Pagan Pope,” because I asked for others who believe in our spiritual connection to the earth to step up and take the issue of climate change seriously. 

I was shocked. How could my post about our common struggles to live ethically and bring up our children in a healthy way attract mostly hatred—and from fellow Pagans?

It was like getting a bucket of cold water in the face—a harsh but necessary awakening for me. I grew up in a community of earth-centered, if not overtly Pagan, families. I thought I knew the Pagan community well since childhood and I was certain that we’re the “good guys” and we share a deep concern about environmental issues. 

But during the past couple of years, I’ve been told in no uncertain terms by many people who I’ve met in Pagan groups on-line that I’m promoting stereotypes by saying Pagans share a concern for the earth. The truth I’m told is that many Pagans are not interested in ecology or environmental issues at all. Many are more interested in their personal growth and the deeper, inner reflections of their spirituality. 

My protected and somewhat isolated childhood is showing.

On the one hand, these misunderstandings can be disheartening to those of us who seek some spark of unity in earth-centered and Pagan circles. I mean if the earth doesn’t unite us… then surely nothing does. 

It throws you right back into the debate--which you're probably sick of--over what the word “Pagan” means. The fact is that whether I like it or not a Pagan is primarily anyone who says “I’m a Pagan.” Period. 

We have no central authority, no one who can arbitrate and say “No, I cast you out. You are not Pagan enough!”

And frankly that system doesn’t even work for Christians and they supposedly do have just such an authority. Except all that happens is that people split off and form new churches and call themselves things like Christian “protest-ants” against the central authority. 

And they’re all still Christian. Some may claim the Mormons aren’t Christian or the Catholics or the Hussites or whatever. But they are Christian because they say, “I’m a Christian.” And the vast majority of the world recognizes that they are right. They actually share enough basic ideas that they can be categorized together, despite their wild diversity.

There is a natural human tendency to think that the group one belongs to is exceptional. But that tendency is almost always wrong. And that’s how it is with Pagans and diversity. The old joke goes that if you ask twelve Pagans what a Pagan is you get thirteen answers. That’s true if you do it on a general forum on the internet. But there are places today, where groups are established enough that you’ll get fairly standardized answers. Just as you would with Christians in one church if you asked them what a Christian is. But if you ask twelve Christians all over the world. Well, you get thirteen answers there too. 

I have Christian friends who believe that the core of Christianity—the absolute core which they practice sincerely—is the tolerance and kindness modeled by Jesus. And to them “tolerance and kindness” is their equivalent of my “connection to the earth,” the thing that MUST be at the core of a spiritual path in order for it to have any relation to their own. 

And yet, we know all too well about Christians and “tolerance and kindness.” There are Muslims—many, many of them—who will swear with tears overflowing that the core of Islam is “peace.” The word Islam comes from the word “peace,” for crying out loud… like Pagan comes from “country dweller” (i.e. someone living close to the land and the earth). 

Heehee... You see the problem.

It is not uncommon to have a broad religious group that does not agree on what it stands for or who falls within the pale. So, why do we expect to or desire to have greater unity?
I can’t speak for everyone, but for myself it is because I see the desperate state of the earth’s health and the strained resources to sustain our cycles of life. All those things that are at the core of my spirituality are threatened. And when we are threatened we want to draw a circle and find unity.

The waves of refugees this past year are fleeing climate change every bit as much as they are fleeing war. The areas that were once marginal for agriculture have now become deserts. In the year two thousand and fifteen, we finally reached the breaking point at which several countries that used to produce their own food no longer can. 

There is no more warning time left. Mother has counted to ten and she is not counting anymore.

When I look into the eyes of starving, terrified refugees I see the heart of the mother of the earth breaking. I feel the gasping breathes of our poisoned Mother Earth, when I walk down my street where there used to be bees, butterflies and fireflies even ten years ago and today there are none, even though the houses are the same. When I swim in the ocean and no longer feel tiny fish brush my feet as I did as a child, I hear the sobs of a mother for her lost children.

This I cannot separate from my spirituality—especially if I claim to know a goddess or ancestors or the elements of nature.

There are those who do separate it from their spirit and who claim it is not relevant or not even true because they have not felt the fish or seen the fireflies or looked into the eyes of the refugees. And I will not tell them that they are not Pagan, because that is their choice. 

And because Pagan is a path, not a destination.  

But I will say one other thing on this subject, one that could land me in even hotter water, but still it's something I must say. 

Neopagans are ostensibly the inheritors of indigenous European spiritual traditions. I know that most are not in any way directly descended from ancient beliefs and some of us give little more than a nod to the past. Wiccans take some words and concepts from the old Celtic and Anglo-Saxon beliefs and make a beautiful and rich tradition primarily from much more recent discoveries. (Not my path but beautiful nonetheless.) But still, what is called Pagan or Neopagan today is almost entirely tied in some way to indigenous European beliefs. 

And it is very sensitive to mention any non-European polytheistic, earth-centered belief systems (garble garble… trying to avoid using the obvious word from the dictionary). We are… I am… afraid of being criticized for cultural piracy and colonialism. 

Because of our fear and inability to talk to other groups, there is no umbrella term. I’m told we cannot use the term “Pagan” to encompass all indigenous-based, earth-centered belief systems, even though that seems like a logical step. Many peoples have experienced the word “Pagan” used against them in a derogatory way and they cannot accept it now—no matter how humble, empathetic and inclusive our intentions may be. 

So, I will use “indigenous” as the broader term rather than “Pagan,” though even Judeo-Christian faiths have a geographical point of origin too. But I digress…

I simply find it interesting that I have never—in all my travels on five continents and mostly among rural people and often among indigenous people—never encountered an active practitioner of Native American, African or Asian-Siberian spiritual traditions who claimed that taking action to protect the earth was NOT at the core of their beliefs. I have yet to encounter such a person on the internet either. And even Hindus, who arguably share many traits, with other indigenous, polytheistic religions, often cite care for the land and water as central to their beliefs. 

It seems ironically that those who make the most noise about the earth—the proponents of European-based Paganism—are the primary group also taken with berating those who claim concern for the earth as a core tenant of daily spiritual practice.

I am not an authority for Pagans, nor do I wish to be. I am myself, here, taking a stand and declaring solidarity and spiritual fellowship with all those who hold care for the earth and empathy for all the people and living beings of the earth at the core of spirit. I do not know if I can call such a group “Pagan.” For now, it is the best term I know of because it is the most widely recognized term that encompasses what I mean. 

In fact, it is so widely recognized that a prominent fundamentalist Christian--Gene Koprowski, director of marketing at the Heartland Institute--understands these words of the English language and uses them in much the same way. Last fall he declared that we do have a literal “Pagan Pope” (i.e. the one in Rome). 

It was after Pope Francis put out a statement of unprecedented urgency and clarity calling for immediate action to mitigate climate change in September 2015. And here is what Koprowski said about it in Chicago: “I would say, contrary to some of the criticism, that this is not communism that has entered the church. It's, rather, Paganism."

And it's not that I take Koprowski as an authority on anything. (Although I would gladly pray with the Pope if he was amenable to praying with a flagrant Pagan.) It is more that the comment shows how far and how wide the concept of concern for the earth as inextricably tied to Paganism has spread. 

And thus it is all in the intent behind a word. When I say “Pagan.” This is what I mean. I mean reverence and care for the earth and for other beings. And because it's a path of practice, I mean living in accordance with this belief in the physical world, making sacrifices of time and energy for it and standing up to injustice done against the earth.

Pagan Book Review: Pagan Planet looks at how modern Pagans live and act on their beliefs in the twenty-first century

What are the diverse experiences of contemporary Pagans of an indigenous European bent? What are the challenges of reclaiming and integrating ancient beliefs in the twenty-first century?  What are our values and how do we act on them?

There may be some blogs and other online sites that discuss these intense and complex issues that take the Pagan community beyond romantic ideas of candles, crystals and witchy hats, but they are scattered and often jumbled in with other things. Getting a balanced view of where the Pagan community really stands by skimming such websites would be a daunting task. That’s where the book Pagan Planet (edited by Nimue Brown of Moon Books) comes in. 

This is an anthology that sets out to chart the breadth and depth of the contemporary Pagan community. The subtitle Being, Believing and Belonging in the 21st Century brings issues of identity, faith and ethics to mind. Here at last is a credible attempt to take a serious look at Neopaganism without any delusions or fetishes, simply as a contemporary way of life. For that, it is most welcome.

The list of authors and topics in the anthology is delightful and intriguing. There are essays on specific issues and musings on life as a modern Pagan, even a poetic or fictional bit or two for added flavor. All around, I was not bored reading this. The writing is varied, and professional--the cream of the Neopagan community. I found a few of the insights particularly gripping, especially when they had to do with how Pagans act on the values promoted in our teachings, such as honoring elders and ancestors, helping those in desperate poverty to gain self-reliance through Pagan Aid and protecting the earth in many valuable ways. As a Pagan parent I found the pieces on Pagan parenting entertaining and the entry on Authentic Shamanism was fascinating. All this is contained in the book.

At the same time, many of the authors were clearly aware of the eyes of history reading their words as well as today’s readers. They were not only setting out to reflect our community back to us. They were also attempting to document a moment in the development of Neopaganism to say essentially: “Here in 2016, this is where we stand. These are our struggles, concerns and achievements. Let it be remembered.” That too is a good and honorable task.

Because of these goals, this anthology is almost too broad. In trying to look at all the diverse aspects of Pagan life, it is limited in its ability to explore in great depth. That isn’t a serious flaw because we need a book that takes into account many different issues. There are already books on many of the specifics. And at the same time, I was disappointed in one aspect of this book--its focus not just on indigenous European traditions but the heavy emphasis on the British Isles in particular. This is a more serious limitation because it purports to give a global perspective. While there is a southern hemisphere piece and a few North American entries, most of those that mention place are in the UK or Ireland. 

It is beyond sensitive to tread on the borderlines between European Pagan traditions and other indigenous and earth-based traditions that have mostly not adopted the word “Pagan” though they essentially fit the description aside from not being European. I recognize the difficulty of forming bridges to other earth-based cultures because of the issues of cultural appropriation and historical colonialism, However there are so many of us who dwell in the borderlands between European and non-European ancestry, lands and cultures (whether we like it or not) that we ignore this aspect at our peril.

This book shies away from earth-centered traditions of non-European in origin with only the briefest mentions of trading vague comments with a fellow Shaman in Africa and one author who admits to mixing in some Native American ideas with a careful caveat against usurping Native American culture. However, this last was another case of someone living in Ireland, not dealing with Native American culture because of proximity or the ancestry of one’s land, but because it is personally interesting. 

I offer that as a critique not in order to tear down a good and much-needed book, but to ask for our community to stretch even further in the issues we dare to talk about publicly. I grew up on a plot of land that tangibly spoke of fairly recent Native American ancestry and this influenced my understanding of the world, history and spirituality. I am now raising two children of mixed ancestry, who will have to bridge the gaps between Europe and other continents. I would like them to grow up into a Pagan community that is more inclusive of those who are not all European. Globally as well, the issue of race cannot and should not be ignored. 

Another enormous issue that is barely touched in this book is climate change. Many of the authors in this anthology are active in the anti-fracking movement, an extremely important part of the environmental struggle. And yet there was almost no mention of climate change and the challenges the next generation will face, including ethical issues when faced with massive waves of refugees and real hardship encroaching on the edges of our community. Our children will struggle with these and other heavy issues. Can we give no sign posts or explanation to the next generation who will have to struggle with issues so painful that we barely dare to touch them? 

All in all, Pagan Planet is a good book discussing issues important to the Neopagan community with some geographical and cultural emphasis on one area. It should be included in comparative religion and multicultural courses, studied by those beginning a Pagan path and discussed with passion and gusto by experienced Pagans. 

Imbolc blessings to children, parents and grandparents!

Imbolc is the time of firelight and long evenings. It is a time to curl up indoors, to think, to dream and to read. There is no better time to delve into the mysteries of intuition, magic and hope. 

Photo and words by Arie Farnam, Creative Commons License, share and share alike

I'm a mother and Julie Freel, the illustrator of the Children's Wheel of the Year series, is a grandmother. Our first concern is that children can access books that support earth-based spirituality. That's why we're making the ebook of Shanna and the Raven available for $2.99 on Amazon and other ebook stores until Imbolc. This means we take a loss on some copies of this book, but it also means that it is affordable for everyone knows a child who would like to read or listen to this book. 

Get the ebook of Shanna and the Raven for $2.99 until Imbolc from these stores:

Read the excerpt here

Check out the prefer paperback you can get a copy from Amazon and see photos from the inside here.

Why do our kids need contemporary Pagan stories?

"Just don't say 'Solstice' where anyone can hear you, Mom," a fifth-grader says. "Everyone says 'Christmas' - even the people who have other holidays."

This is the kind of thing you will hear, if you're an earth-centered parent living someplace multicultural enough that you would actually consider using Pagan terms in public. This is a fact. We live in a society where the majority culture is very strong in the media and public space, despite the fact that only about half of the population shares that culture. 

You want a Pagan children's story? Here are some of the beautiful illustrations by Julie Freel from the soon-to-be-published story Shanna and the Raven. Ten-year-old Shanna and seven-year-old Rye learn to use the magic and energy of Imbolc for protection in a dicey situation.

I grew up Pagan in a conservative, rural corner of the United States. Wait... I have to amend that because my mother is likely to lodge a complaint. I grew up with many Pagan ideas, stories, practices and beliefs, but I was nearly thirty before I had a word for it or knew the names of the solar holidays.

If and when we did a ritual or used something like Tarot when I was a kid, my mother either didn't overtly talk about it at all or called it "woo woo." By the time I went to school, I didn't have to be told that I should keep quiet about the whole subject of spirituality.

When I was sixteen, I had to fill out a form including my religion and I asked my mother what I should say.

She said, "You better say Protestant just in case." I knew we weren't Protestant, but I put it on the form anyway. The only options were Catholic, Protestant, Muslim and Buddhist.  There wasn't even an "other" category in those days. I was tempted to mark the Buddhist category just to buck the system, but it was an important form, so I decided to take my mother's advice and keep my head down as I did at many other times.

Pagan kids choosing their path in a media world

As a result, I understand why many Pagan kids are worried about being publicly identified as non-Christian, let alone Pagan. Sure, it can be considered brazen and cool among teenagers, but at earlier ages, both teachers and other kids often react negatively to open use of Pagan terms or symbols. Kids listen to the news and to the way people talk. And they take their cues from the media.

Today's kids can relate to to Shanna and Rye because they are just like them, going to school, having fun with friends and thinking about how they fit in.

While the film Frozen may drop many Pagan hints, it stops short of using any Pagan terms. Meanwhile, the majority of stories and films encounter Christmas or other Christian terms and integrate them with ease. These terms pervade the common media culture and make clear what is "normal" for kids.

Some kids will be strong inside and not care much. I didn't. I kept my own beliefs and sat through plenty of public and semi-public Christian prayers throughout my childhood. But I always felt the coldness of the outside world and the isolation of my family. I struggled to find words when I traveled in my teens and people asked me "what" I was. When I came close to being able to describe it, I was met with a wall denial: "That's not a real religion." "That's fake." "You just made that up." 

And I didn't listen. I knew that I hadn't made up the myths of Norse and Greek mythology or the casting of a circle and the calling of quarters. (I knew neither term for those actions but I knew how to do them.) However, I teetered on the edge of despair over it. I envied my Native American friends, who were the only people I knew with similar practices and yet I sensed the wrongness in cultural appropriation at a young age and I refused to go that route. 

Many more kids will not want to stand so alone. Only a few of the similarly "quiet Pagan" kids I knew growing up retain any of this spiritual path today. And it's fine for everyone to choose their own path. As long as they are happy where they are.

The problem I see is that Pagan children are routinely denied a reasonable chance to truly choose. They are told bits and pieces of their parent's spiritual practice, but mostly they are thrown into the world of Christian and secular media. There are a few books about Pagan beliefs aimed at children, but almost all of them are focused on teaching specific facts and practices. They bear little resemblance to the fun and adventurous stories where kids usually find Christmas, Easter and the Fourth of July.

A child's need for engaging identity

The divide is stark - Pagan literature which is often dry and school-like versus pop culture which is fast-paced, fun and focused on Christian and secular terms.  The inevitable conclusion that children draw is that Pagan things are stilted and boring, while the majority culture is adventurous and laid back.

How did this happen? Paganism is supposed to be the religion of freedom, play, dreams and the natural world, is it not?

A holiday story should include the magic and comfort of family traditions but should also include a story to grip and entertain the reader. These stories are for earth-centered kids themselves, rather than meant to educate their classmates about Pagan beliefs.

And beyond the issue of what path our children will choose as they mature, I would like to make a plea for childhood free from fear, secrecy and self-doubt. Yes, I was strong enough to weather the great silence and that feeling of isolation alone, but I hope my own children won't have to undergo it. I want them to know what our beliefs are called, to use these terms without fear and to respect other beliefs without feeling dominated.

These are key parts of a healthy identity. And without a solid identity we can't freely choose our own path.  

That's why I am turning my story-telling craft to earth-centered and Pagan children's stories for a time.  I am indebted to the writers of Circle Round, Pooka Pages and similar materials for families and children, which have done a great deal to provide Pagan education for kids. This leaves me free to embark on a new path with my stories.

These are stories rooted in today's most common Pagan paths, but they are primarily about adventures and difficulties that children actually overcome. These stories are to Pagan beliefs as the American Girl series is to history. There might be a bit about the facts in the back of the book, but the focus will be on stories that children will actively ask for - stories that will grip the reader with suspense and joy. 

A series of contemporary adventure stories for Pagan kids

I have begun the Children's Wheel of the Year stories with a book that will be published in January 2016. It's an Imbolc story because it occurs at that time of year and includes a family's Imbolc celebration. It also includes the themes of Imbolc - protection from danger, the good use of intuition and the cleansing of negative energies. But these themes are not taught with a heavy hand. They are part of the story of how ten-year-old Shanna acts bravely and intuitively to protect her younger brother from a criminal. 

Yes, these stories will encounter some real conflict and suspense. They aren't meant for preschool-age children, but for those who read adventure stories involving an element of danger. The stories that my own children love don't pretend that children are immune to or unaware of the darkness in the world. They are the stories that show children as strong and capable of facing difficulties, protecting themselves and standing up for important principles.

That strength comes from facing real problems and battling fear itself. These stories will have happy endings and be empowering for children, but they will involve true conflict and adventure that kids can relate to.

Modern Pagan kids just like me

"Class, who can tell us what is special about February 2?" the teacher asks. Shanna is excited that someone else knows about Imbolc. But then the other kids laugh and the teacher really meant Ground Hog's Day. Fortunately, the teacher is open-minded and she asks Shanna to tell the class about her lovely traditions.

The Children's Wheel of the Year books are meant for kids ages six to ten and may interest kids outside this age range as well. The stories are realistic and contemporary, following a brother and sister named Shanna and Rye whose family follow an unspecified earth-centered path. Like other children today, they go to school, have friends, enjoy fun times and encounter real problems and fears. Like the Magic Tree House books or The Little House on the Prairie, these stories are relatable and fun. They can help in teaching kids about a Pagan path, but their focus is on building a strong and fearless Pagan identity in general, rather than on teaching details of a particular path. 

The first book in the series is titled Shanna and the Raven: An Imbolc Story. The series will continue around the wheel of the year. There is no particular significance to beginning at Imbolc. It simply fits the children in the story best.

I strive for accuracy in all references to Pagan practices, but I keep much of the specifics out of these stories in order to allow a wide variety of families with different paths to use them. It will be possible to enter the story with any of the books, though there will be a gentle overall story running from Imbolc through Yule as well. 

Get this book here

If you want to learn more about the Children's Wheel of the Year stories, you're invited to sign up for my Hearth-side Email Circle. Subscribers are entitled to a free ebook, and you can either grab one of my adult fantasy books or Shanna and the Raven as a thank you from me.. 

I love your comments on these Pagan Notes posts and I would be particularly interested in the ideas and concerns of fellow Pagan parents. What issues are your kids concerned about? What kinds of books, movies and other media do you wish we had for Pagan kids? Thanks for your comments.

Mabon as an earth-centered thanksgiving

Some people poke fun at the number of holidays Pagan families celebrate. In reality we don't have that many more than other people. The problem is more that we often feel obliged to celebrate mainstream secular and/or Christian holidays as well, so that our children don't feel left out of school celebrations or to please extended families of different faiths.

Mabon is about the warmth of a home and a hearth as well as an open door to travelers and guests - image by Arie Farnam

That does sometimes leave us trying to do too much and rushing through what should be fun  and relaxed family traditions.

Sometimes the holidays work out fine. When we have Yule before Christmas it simply frees us up to be less stressed about it when the extended family wants to do secular Christmas and demand their preferred dates. We are done with our most important holiday of the season and we get to be flexible about it. So, we sort of include secular Christmas and Easter in our calendar. We ignore most political holidays and that leaves us with the issue of Thanksgiving.

We now live in Europe where we don't get a day off for American Thanksgiving and it is more difficult to have a fresh harvest feast in November in northern latitudes anyway. It is no surprise that Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving in September. And that got me thinking. 

For me the primary theme of Mabon is giving thanks and celebrating the bounty of the harvest. It also has to do with hospitality, honoring elders and giving both thanks and comfort to the animals in our vicinity. A few years ago, I realized that these themes work very well with the US Thanksgiving traditions of my youth.

And in fact, they fit much more with my sensibilities than a holiday devoted to a legend about Christians invading a country of cousin Pagans, abusing their hospitality and then giving all the credit for what good came of it to their foreign god. I never could relate to it from the time I was in kindergarten. And as an adult I can't eat a Thanksgiving dinner in November without feeling more grief over our history of genocide than gratitude for the blessings of the season. 

Yet we celebrated it because there was obviously something very important about a feast of harvest foods where the whole family gathered and gave attention to our gratitude. That is too good a thing to give up, which is why people who are uncomfortable with the history continue to celebrate that Thursday in November.

And that led me to a perfect solution. Mabon is the Pagan equivalent of Thanksgiving. It comes at a better (and more natural) time of year and we can use US Thanksgiving for what it should be, a day to commemorate a painful history and make restitution. So, I moved Thanksgiving to a weekend nearest to Mabon. 

Sharing the Mabon feast - image by Arie Farnam

In September I often have that comforting feeling of primal security when I look at the rows of canned fruits and vegetables and the bins of apples, potatoes, pumpkins and carrots in our root cellar, the freezers bulging with organic meat we have bartered for, the jars of dried fruit and the cupboards overflowing with dried, emulsified and tinctured herbs. 

And this all sets a natural mood for thanksgiving. We usually get a turkey or a half turkey, make a giant pan of stuffing, mashed potatoes, apple and pumpkin pies, even cranberry sauce when we can, often baked pumpkin from our garden. We often share the holiday with another family because my extended family is back home in North America. But even if we only eat a great harvest meal of our own, there are several specific traditions that make this day special.   

The children make beautiful Mabon crafts of tiny little acorn people (nature spirits who paint the leaves) and leaf rubbings framed with colorful paper on which we write Mabon blessings. The kids and I spend some time reading in front of the fire. We read from several Mabon editions of Pooka Pages, which both kids love, as well as a few seasonal books, including “Smoky and the Feast of Mabon” and “By the Light of the Harvest Moon.” As Mabon is also about thanking our animals, we snuggle with Eliska, our hardworking mouser, and thank her for keeping the rustlings in the walls at bay. We make sure she gets a generous portion of the feast as well.

I make a wreath for our door with corn husks, dried apples, dried herbs and currants, all things actually from our own harvest. I often make a centerpiece for the table consisting of sand in a nice bowl with vary-colored popcorn decoratively arranged on top to form a flat spot. Then, on that I place a cornhusk doll, symbolizing the full-bodied harvest goddess. Around her I put some of the children’s tiny toy animals representing all the animals that either help us in our daily lives or have given themselves for our sustenance.

On Mabon day, the those who wish to take part hold a Mabon ritual of thanksgiving and reciprocity. We sing the song “Ancient Mother”. And we made up an alternative to the standard goddess chant that focuses on the harvest goddesses of many cultures.

Creative Commons image by Julia Falk

Lajja Gauri, Zulu, Freya,
Sowathara, Sara Mama,
Rosmerta, Zeme, Demeter,
Oh, Mother Earth!

Lajja Gauri is a Hindu harvest goddess. Zulu is African. Freya is Scandinavian. Sowathara is Vietnamese. Sara Mama is Native American. Rosmerta is Celtic-Roman. Zeme is Slavic. Demeter hopefully needs no explanation. Our spiritual focus is international due to the international make-up of our family and home.

We also make symbolic offerings and bless a handful of coins that will be used to give to street musicians and people who forgot their train fares at the station. We don't have much in the way of financial resources, but it is important to share our harvest in whatever ways we can. When the harvest is good we give away extra pumpkins and squash to those who will actually eat them. Thanksgiving is after all in the end about interconnectedness.

A few years ago, I made up a Mabon song, which has become traditional in our house.

Mabon decorations - Image by Arie Farnam

Autumn Song
By Arie Anna Meadowlark

Hail to the Gods of winter.
Hail to the Night.
Hail to the dark times
With your stars bright.

Bring healing with your darkness.
Be gentle with your cold.
Give insight with your solitude
That brings comfort to the soul.

Farewell to the summer days.
Farewell to old man sun.
Farewell to the times of toil
And rough and tumble fun.

And though I love the summer,
I shall not shed a tear.
For the promise has been given.
The sun returns next year.

I love your comments on these posts. Share your own ideas and traditions below. How do you juggle both the Wheel of the Year and holidays celebrated in the wider community around you?  What are your traditions of thanksgiving and harvest?

And thank you for all the shares of these posts! May your harvest be blessed.

Lughnasadh: A time for community and craft

Lughnasadh or Lammas is stands out for our family from the other Pagan holidays. Most holidays we spend with family and the focus is on special meals, crafts, songs and kid-friendly rituals. But this holiday at the very beginning of August is different by its very nature. This is the season to focus on the harvest, community as well as work, skilled crafts and mentors or teaching. It's an outwardly focused time, the polar opposite of Imbolc's introspection. 

Creative Commons image by Amber Fray

Many Pagan communities choose to hold their large community gatherings at this time of year. The weather is most likely to be good and the energy is community oriented. As a result many families have very simple and flexible traditions attached to this season.

This year for the first time, we have a local Pagan event for Lughnasadh that is appropriate for families with children. That's because we're hosting it in our back yard. We're gathering Pagan families to do a simple ritual and hold a community feast. But given that this is the first year we've done this, it isn't a tradition yet.

Helping with this sort of gathering is a great way to combine the themes of this time. If your local community does organize Pagan events, consider asking what you can do to help, clean up the area after the event, arrive early to help set things up or take on one of the many small roles that are needed to make a gathering work. This is the day of giving back. 

Even if your community doesn't have Pagan events and you can't make one happen yourself, there are other ways to contribute to your community. Many years we have found some way to volunteer. We plan to volunteer as ESL teachers at a summer camp for disadvantaged children when our kids are old enough. And we always have litter-clean-up expeditions at this time of year. 

Even so, it's a challenge to do a big community project right in the middle of the harvest. If you grow a big garden like we do, this is a busy time of the year.  The garden still needs tending and canning, freezing and drying food are now taking up a lot of time. Part of my craft is making herbal medicines for my extended family and friends. That is also one way I contribute to the community because I give my medicinals freely rather than selling them. That means that even when I don't pull off a community project at this time, I'm still putting energy into community with the herbs I'm gathering. 

And yet, as always I want my children to have a tradition to anchor them in the energy of the season. So, we still have a few things we do as a family that will always tie the holiday together. They are simpler than usual and can be done anywhere, because we may not be home.

Crafts and Ritual

We sometimes do a ritual giving thanks for our harvest and blessing our garden. This is always outdoors at this time of year and often a bit informal. In our climate the corn on the cob isn't ready yet but it is tall and looking like it will be ready soon. The kids are eagerly waiting for it to get ripe.

So, this is a good time to use cornmeal as an offering to scatter outside. If you grow a different staple crop, you might want to use something related to that crop. 

Because the kids are so active outside these days and more likely to be half naked and wet than not, it's a good time for crafts like face painting and tie-dye. But the primary craft of the season is a craft for me rather than for the children. And it's also our most important Lughnasadh family tradition.

Lughnasadh cloth - Creative Commons image by Arie Farnam

A few years ago, my mother gave me a special table cloth that I remembered from my childhood and this became our special Lughnasadh cloth. Whatever gathering of friends, family and community we attend at Lughnasadh, we take the table cloth with us, even if it is an outside event. I encourage everyone to sign the table cloth.  Then I carry the cloth around with me most of the winter. And in those idle moments when I am waiting for kids at music classes or when there is a quiet evening, I embroider the names on the signed cloth in a color specific to that year. Last year our Lughnasadh event was a camping trip that included a bunch of Ukrainian friends of friends, so I spent the winter embroidering beautiful Cyrillic letters. 

The result is a beautiful cloth full of incredible memories. I'm not particularly skilled with a needle but that doesn't matter much after the project gets going. It is still quite beautiful and it carries the sense of community that is perfect for Lughnasadh.

You can duplicate this tradition by choosing a sturdy table cloth and starting with whatever gathering you attend this year. White isn't mandatory and orange or light brown would absorb stains better than mine and be wonderful for the season. You could use permanent markers instead of embroidery for an easier but no-less-meaningful version. Just remember to use just one color per year and mark the year in the same color in the corner of the cloth. In a few years the cloth will be colorful and you will be able to look back and recall the gatherings of past years based on the colors of the names of those who were there. 

Cooking

The best food of Lughnasadh is the fresh produce of a garden. Ripe tomatoes, corn on the cob, salad greens, carrots and herbs. We eat big salads or put the veggies into no-cook spring rolls.  Lughnasadh is also the known as the grain harvest so bread or pasta salad are big favorites and it's handy that they are easy to carry because unless we're working in the garden, we're unlikely to be home at all. 

Bohemian fruit pizza

Another way to both use your local fruit harvest and make bread at the same time is to make Bohemian fruit pizza. It is technically called pie in the Czech Republic but it resembles pizza more than anything else to foreigners. This is a pretty healthy recipe and can be eaten for breakfast and snacks, not just for desert. This is also a handy finger food to bring to community feasts.

Ingredients:

• 1/2 pound potatoes
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup cold water
• 1/4 cup butter 
• 2 smallish eggs (or 4 egg yolks)
• 1 tablespoon Yeast
• 1/4 cup slightly warm water
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• Several cups of flour depending on consistency
• Fruit (such as plums, apples, blackberries, pitted cherries, blueberries or huckleberries)
• 1/2 cup Powdered sugar
• 1/2 cup flour (half and half whole grain if you want to be really healthy about it)
• 1/3 cup cold butter

Directions:

1. Peel and chop 1/2 pound of potatoes. Place in a small pan with one cup of water and half a teaspoon of salt. Cook until very soft and don't strain the water off.
2. Mash up the potatoes and add half a stick (1/4 cup) of butter and mash that in to the hot potatoes as well. 
3. Start yeast off to the side. Mix tablespoon of dry yeast, 1/4 cup slightly warm water and one tablespoon of sugar in a separate container. Let it sit while your potatoes cool off.
4. When the potatoes have cooled off a bit add your eggs. You can use just egg yolks instead. This is an old grandmother's trick from Bohemia that is supposed to make the cake even better. Mix it in and make the potato mixture into a smooth mass.
5. Add a cup of flour to your potato mixture and stir well.
6. Once it is cool enough that it is around body temperature, add the yeast mixture and stir well.
7. Transfer the mixture to a large mixing bowl and add more flower until the dough is kneadable. You'll need several more cups of flour.
8. Let the dough rise for an hour under a warm damp cloth.
9. Spread flour on your work surface. Knead your dough again and then roll it out into roughly the shape of your baking tray. Then carefully roll the dough around your rolling pin and transfer it to the greased baking sheet. Gently pull at the corners and sides to shape the dough to fit the pan and stick it slightly to the sides. 
10. Spread thinly sliced fruit over the dough. Try to cover as much of the dough as possible but don't overlap into too thick a layer.  
11. In a separate bowl tweak together 1/2 cup flour with 1/2 cup powdered sugar and 1/3 cup cold butter to make a crumbly mixture. 
12. Scatter the crumbly mixture over your cake. 
13. Let the cake rise for another half an hour or hour. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit (180 C) fifteen minutes before you want to put it in.
14. Back for 30 to 45 minutes. 

Spring rolls with fresh seasonal greens

1. Prepare:

• Thin sheets of rice paper
• Cooked fine rice noodles
• Small pieces of cooked, lightly salted meat or egg
• A bunch of salad greens an herbs cut up fine
• Thinly sliced strips of red pepper (optional)
• Thinly sliced boiled eggs (optional)

2. Fill a low pan with hot water and place it on a table with all your supplies.

3. Lay a sheet of rice paper into the pan of hot water, covering the sheet entirely and then carefully lift it out and put the wet sheet on a plate.

4. Put the most colorful bits of prepared food on first (usually eggs, peppers and dark greens or herbs). Place them in a line across the middle of the rice paper. Then add greens, meat or tofu and noodles. (You only really need a little of each thing for one sheet of rice paper. Keep them small and rolling will be easier.)

5. Carefully fold a bit of rice paper over the ends of the line and then roll the rice paper around the line of food.  The rice paper will stick to itself, so that the roll won't come open once you've rolled it up.

6. Set your spring roll on a plate and repeat the process until you have enough (An adult in our household usually eats 5 or 6 spring rolls for a meal.)

7. Serve the spring rolls with small bowls of spicy dressing for dipping. To make easy Vietnamese sauce for fresh spring rolls mix these ingredients roughly in this order:

• 2 tablespoons of sugar
• 1/4 cup hot water
• 2 tablespoons of lemon juice
• 1-2 cloves of crushed garlic
• 1/2 teaspoon very hot garlic chili sauce
• 4 teaspoons fish sauce (nuk mam) 

Joyous Lughnasadh and Lammas to you and yours. May your harvest in all areas of life be blessed. 

Leave a comment below and share your own traditions. Send this post around to friends. This is another way to be part of a global community.

Living close to the land at the Summer Solstice

I don't suppose life was ever easy for people who subsisted directly from the land they lived on, whether hunting and gathering or practicing small-scale agriculture. But it has become even harder to live "off the land" in the past thirty years, in particular. 

I grew up in a remote, rural corner of Eastern Oregon and my parents made a fair stab at living an earth-centered life, growing and raising a great deal of our food in the 1980s. There are still people who do that today and some even live off the grid, running their homes with solar and wind power. But there are a lot of hardships involved. The climate has become harsh and unpredictable in many areas. Climate change and international travel have spread pests to areas where they have no predators and made subsistence organic agriculture has become a risky gamble indeed.

Economically, in the United States and Europe at least the burdens of taxes and regulations have made it increasingly hard to raise children while living on the land and off the grid. I'm not saying it's impossible and those who do it, even for short periods, have my respect. But as much as I would like to, I don't live entirely in that way.

Instead my husband and I have worked to build a life that is as ecologically sustainable and low-impact as we reasonably can make it - given our climate, geographic location and economic situation. Our second goal is to raise our children in as healthy an environment as possible without entirely segregating ourselves from modern society. 

In practice, this means we grow as much food as we can, focusing on crops which do well in our climate and which are somewhat resistant to local plagues of slugs and mold. This means that we eat a lot of squash, pumpkins, kale, lettuce, green beans, currants, blackberries and plums. I was fortunate enough to start out loving these foods. Yet I'll admit that going into our tenth year at this, I find bananas exciting and maple syrup is an ecstatic experience. 

But on another level, I have come to grasp viscerally the way agricultural peoples saw their staple crops. Early to mid-June is a very sensitive time for squash and pumpkin plants in our climate. They are still fragile and susceptible to being eaten by slugs until they grow spines and tough sin. One year a hail storm in June decimated our crop, having a painful impact on our family's ability to eat organic meals for the next year. We are fortunate that crop disaster doesn't mean starvation for us, but it does mean unhealthy, pesticide laden food. The fact is that in the Czech Republic organic produce is far beyond our budget, unless we grow it. 

And so gardening, the work of feeding a family directly from the soil has become a big part of my spiritual path as well. This year my pumpkin and squash seedlings were slow to get going and I worried and called out for help. But they finally did come up and are now a good hand high. When a hail storm came last week, I ran out in it with pots and bowls to cover the seedlings. My six-year-old daughter stood in the doorway handing me more, her eyes wide with anxiety and excitement, as the downpour soaked me to the skin and the beginnings of hail bounced off my head. 

I saved the crop and caught a cold. Fortunately, the garden also has medicinal herbs for tea. While I recovered, my daughter devised her first ever ritual and prayer on her own.

I was amazed and gratified to see the level of sophistication she had gained mostly by just watching me in my spiritual practice. She asked me to help her light candles and use a sage smudge. Then she made up a prayer, invoking Thor (as the Norse god she associates with Thunder based on a story she heard once three years ago) and White Shell Woman the Navajo goddess of crops and livelihood. She asked for the hail to move on, for the rain to go to the desert "where grandma Julie really needs it" and for our garden to grow. She made an offering of blackberry cake outside, a true sacrifice because it's a special treat. 

By the time the Solstice comes around the pumpkin and squash plants will be big enough that they can survive both slugs and hail, the corn will be well started, the fruit trees will all have flowered and set fruit and the green beans will be climbing their trellises. We'll have very practical reasons to celebrate and a sense of our labor combining with the energy of the earth and sun to give us our livelihood. 

Whether you live in a city or in a place where you have the luxury of a garden, Litha or the Summer Solstice is a worthy time to think about how you combine your labor with the energies of the earth and sun. Maybe you live in such a way that you do have the budget to buy locally grown organic produce and thus support a large-scale development of sustainability. Maybe you grow basil and sage on your window sill in a small apartment, so that you can cook tasty food from scratch and avoid harmful and ecologically unfriendly flavorings and packaged foods. Maybe you volunteer or contribute financially to organizations that work for ecological and sustainable development.

Whatever it is the Summer Solstice is a time for these energies to come together. Here are some of the ways I celebrate in a family with small children.

Cooking

Picking strawberries - Creative Commons image by Loadmaster (David R. Tribble)

There is one other crop we've worked long and hard to grow. It hasn't been as easy as our staple crops but it is one that is worth it. We grow 20 strawberry plants. After years of trial and error we have hit on a system where we get most of the strawberries and the slugs and mold only get a few. And it is usually right before the Summer Solstice that our full-season-producing strawberries are at their peek. Given a good sunny week, we can all have fresh strawberry shortcake with organic strawberries that I can feel good about watching my kids eat. 

Here is my deluxe strawberry shortcake recipe. Keep in mind that strawberries really are one of those foods that is particularly worth buying organic. If you can't grow them yourself, barter, trade and save to buy them. There are places where you can pick your own in local organic gardens and cut the cost a bit. 

My recipe, developed over the past dozen years is a combination of my mother's buttermilk biscuits and my strawberry sauce

Grandma Julie's buttermilk biscuits

1. Preheat the oven to 425 F (210 C).

2. Mix together:

• 1 1/2 cups flour
• 1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
• 1/4 teaspon salt

3. Stir and tweak in

• 1/4 cup (1/2 stick) cold butter cut into small pieces. 

4. Add

• 1/4 teaspoon soda
• 1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder

5. Stir and add

• 3/4 cup buttermilk (plain yogurt works in a pinch)

6. Combine and kneed a very little in order to make a smooth, somewhat sticky dough.

7. Divide into six equal pieces and shape each piece into a flat disk.

8. Put the biscuit disks on a cookie sheet covered with baking paper (or greased).

9. Bake for 15 minutes. 

Mama Arie's strawberry sauce

10. Clean and cut the tops off the strawberries. Then divide them in half. 

• For each biscuit you'll need about a double handful of strawberries. You can get by with a bit less but the more the merrier.  

11. Put one half of the strawberries into a bowl. Use a potato masher or a fork to slightly crush the strawberries and release their juice. 

12. Add

• about 4 tablespoons of sugar for a standard batch (or add slowly to taste)

13. Mix and add

• 4 - 6 tablespoons of sour cream

14. Save the other half of the strawberries for putting on top.

15. Place a biscuit on a plate and cut it into cubes. Pour strawberry-sour-cream sauce over it and top with cut strawberries. Whipped cream is optional. 

Our other staple of the Summer Solstice is big salads containing garden greens, chives, radishes and edible flowers (dandelions, violets, daisies) - basically whatever we can grow at this season - with feta cheese, boiled eggs, sunflower seeds and herb and yogurt dressing. The kids are very enthusiastic after a winter of cooked veggies.

Crafts

There is so much activity around Beltane that the fairy theme seems to get lost in the shuffle then. This is when we really go all out with fairy crafts, coloring sheets, anything with multicolored wings (butterflies made of tissue paper, wands with fairies at the end). We also make sun catchers to hang in the windows or from trees outside, often using translucent materials that can channel light.

However,these crafts can often be found elsewhere, so the one I want to highlight here is one I partly developed from just the glimmer of an idea mentioned elsewhere. It is particularly special because:

• It is exceptionally easy and can be made by even very young children.
• Yet it's beautiful enough to delight adults and be a real home decoration.
• It's a sun image.
• It's made with natural materials.
• And it helps to clean out the pantry in preparation for storing food for another winter.

Creative Commons attribution required illustration by Arie Farnam

Thus it really combines all the elements we want with the Summer Solstice - sun, natural materials, the bounty of the earth, the remembrance that winter will come again. You could even add a fairy if you wanted. 

You will need:

• A clean, sanded, flat square of wood or stiff cardboard as backing
• A pencil
• A lot of white glue
• A bag of red lentils
• A bag of black beans

And here are the steps: 

1. Draw a simple, bold sun shape on your backing with a pencil.
2. Cover the area you drew generously with glue.
3. Pour red lentils generously over the glue.
4. Lightly press the lentils into the glue with your hand.
5. Set aside to dry.
6. Pour the excess lentils, which did not get glued, off.
7. Cover the remaining area of the backing generously with glue. 
8. Lightly press the beans into the glue with your hand.
9. Set aside to dry.
10. Pour the excess beans off.
11. You can either fix a hanger to the back and hang this on the wall or prop it up on your window sill or alter. 

Blessings of the sun to all!

Ritual and fun with children

Creative Commons image by Kathie Hodge

We rarely do a large ritual at Litha. If possible we hold a family bonfire in our garden and sing and drum to help the crops and our dreams grow. Because the Book of Runes by Ralph H. Blum was written over the night of the Summer Solstice, I find it to be a good time for run work. I made my rune script of protection that hangs on the center beam of our house on the Summer Solstice, for instance. It's a time of activity and work. 

But I like to have something that sets the special days apart for the children and besides crafts and strawberry shortcake, we often make fairy houses in the woods. The key is to use all found natural materials that don't harm the plants. It is a way for children to connect with the growing natural world in a deep way. 

We usually start by making walls out of rows of sticks, placing leaf dishes and beds inside and then covering the whole with a roof of moss or bark. Pebbles can be used to make a pretty pathway up to the door. 

Children's Summer Solstice Blessing

Here is a short sun blessing that my children have enjoyed this year. Feel free to use and adapt as you wish.

Ancient Sun, reborn sun, giver of life and energy,

in oil, tree, herb and tide, in harvest bounty and in light,

as you shine in the heavens kindle our hearts with fire.

May you light the world as you light the sky

I love to hear from you. Feel free to ask questions or share your own summer solstice blessings and tips in the comments (icon on the lower left). Share this article with your friends using the icon on the lower right. 

I would also like to invite you to my hearth-side email circle. This is a small group of readers with whom I share the occasional virtual cup of tea and links to my latest writing. This is my protected, spam-free corner of the internet, so that's all you'll receive. 

The rhythm of mornings on the Ridge

(I am spending two and a half months living on my parents’ place in the mountains in rural Eastern Oregon with my two preschool-age children. Shaye, who is five, insists on going to kindergarten, even during our short stay. This is a vivid slice of life.)

I rise out of deep sleep with the trill of my cell phone, which has been demoted to a glorified alarm clock out in the Blue Mountains of Eastern Oregon with no signal.

First I inhale deeply before my eyes open. There is the pungent fragrance of the pellets that feed the miniature stove and the undertone of snow. My eyes open to the flickering light of the little orange flame at the foot of the big bed.

I reach over and fumble to turn off the alarm, so it doesn’t wake up Marik. Then I reluctantly role myself out of the froth of white blankets that cover the bed. I wish I had this nice of a bed at home in our little house near Prague in the Czech Republic. So much for roughing it in the mountains.

I stumble the few feet to the creaky ladder and blink hard to clear the sleep from my head as I climb in the warm semi-darkness, lit only by the stove. Above is the tiny loft, mostly crammed with boxes my mother is storing. There is a small space that has been cleared for two pallets on the floor and my children sleep there – four-year-old Marik and five… almost six-year-old Shaye. I squeeze into the opening between a cabinet and the railing to reach Shaye.

I brush her cheek in an attempt to wake her gently but she doesn’t stir. I can’t fit entirely into their tiny space without causing a fair amount of noise, so I resort to reaching down and lifting her by both arms as she sleeps. She wakes up as she is pulled out of her blankets but she doesn’t cry. She’s used to it and she loves kindergarten.

At first, her legs don’t hold her but I put her hands on the railing and guide her quietly through the little space. I have to hold her from behind as we slide down the ladder because she isn’t awake enough to be reliable.  Back down on the floor of the one-room cabin, we dress silently by firelight. Shaye is usually done first, despite the fact that I have laid out our clothes the night before. My head is still full of fluff.

She opens the door as I get my boots on and the icy air of the still-dark morning blasts against my nose. It must be more than ten below again. We step outside onto the frozen path. There isn’t much snow this morning, just a powdery dusting. I close the door quietly. Marik is still fast asleep. Shaye and I make our way toward the big house  

I put my hand on her shoulder and let her bob against my legs as we walk. The moon is waning but still fat and bright, hanging among the pines that tower above us on the western slope. An owl hoots up there in the trees. Then another answers from the woodlot in the hollow far below. Something else cries out in the predawn, an animal I don’t recognize.

We step quickly toward the house. A light has been left on for us but otherwise it is still dark and silent. We bustle inside, shedding boots and coats. I put water on for tea, while Shaye snuggles with the two dogs and one cat that greet us. In thirty five minutes, I get Shaye through hair brushing and a small bowl of cereal, sometimes half a cup of warm fruit tea and a few minutes of reading. Sometimes I can salvage the coals of last night’s fire in the big hearth. But sometimes I have to build it up from scratch.

When my watch says exactly 6:45, we have to start putting boots and coats on in earnest. At 6:50, Shaye stands outside while I lace up my high tops and mash my hat into place. Both dogs barrel out of the door, growling and nipping at each other playfully.

“I hear the bus,” Shaye yells and we start down the steep quarter-mile mud track that serves as our driveway. I can see the lights of the bus far below, making its way up the road beyond our property. In three minutes, we drop down to the county road that runs through the bottom of the hollow. The sky is barely starting to get light but the morning is as clear as the perfect note of a penny whistle.

We’re the furthest out on this school bus route. The driver, a sweet lady named Cindy, has to drive another mile up the road to find a place to turn around. Then, she comes back down the hill and picks Shaye. That way we have the five-minute warning to get us down the hill and we rarely have to wait long.

When we hear the bus approach again and see the warmth of its flashing lights in the distance, Shaye burrows against me, suddenly demanding of comfort and multiple hugs. I hug her and put the required kisses on her face as the bus slows and the doors open.

“‘Morning!” Cindy calls.

“‘Morning,”  I reply, as Shaye bounds up the steps and disappears into the darkened bus alone.

I stand and wave, even though I can’t see her behind the glass or at that distance. The one time I forgot to pretend to exchange waves with her, she gave me a hard time about it for days. So, I wave and smile and pretend that I can see her as the bus pulls away. One of the absurdities of being a legally blind mother.

In a moment the morning is as still and peaceful as that clear note of music. The sky has lightened a little along the horizon, though it will be a half an hour yet before the sun peeks up.  The only sound is the yipping of the dogs as they chace each other out in the neighbor’s pasture. I turn back up the road, pausing a few times just to admire the morning. The brightening skyline and the pink-hued clouds are blurry to me but still beautiful, something like an impressionist painting.

I take the grassier path back up the ridge. That one ends at the little cabin where Marik is still asleep. I slip in as silently as I can and sit in the rocking chair reading for a few minutes as the sun comes up and slowly illuminates my mother’s paintings which hang close together on the walls. This is normally her art studio, when we aren’t here. I can’t actually see the paintings unless I stand on the bed and put my face a few inches from them, but the amorphous blobs of them on the wall are comforting.

At about 7:30, Marik snuffles awake and calls out to see if I have returned from the bus yet. Then he pads over to the ladder and climbs down. He sits in my lap for awhile and I read one of the new stories I’ve ordered online. I tuck our latest addition into one of the big duffle bags I’m packing for the long trip back to the Czech Republic, a land of limited English-language children’s books, and we head back into the house.

Most mornings we are alone. My mom and my brother stay overnight in town more often than not. So, Marik and I make a more substantial breakfast, carry a load of wood down a long flight of narrow stairs to stoke the fire, wash the dishes and try to call Papa on Skype. Then it is time to find something useful to do with the four-year-old-oriented part of the day. Sometimes we just go for a walk to visit a neighbor or one of the huge trees on top of the ridge. Other days we cook or make cookies for the holidays. About once every two weeks, we can finagle a ride into town to visit the library.

Such is the rhythm of our mornings on Pumpkin Ridge. There is peace to it along with hard work.

Raising Little Pagans

Here is our first video showing the hands-on approach to Pagan seasonal festivals with children. This video covers Samhain through Ostrara and gives specific ideas of what a family with preschool-age children can accomplish. We are eclectic and follow no particular rigid tradition.

Happy watching. This video is appropriate for all ages.

Please note that my fiction is not aimed at children. The Soul and the Seed is a contemporary fantasy thriller with Pagan leanings. I recommend it for ages sixteen and up due to intense content, including some realistic violence. I hope Pagan readers will enjoy these books but I urge parents to be cautious about recommending them to children.