The Song and the Flame

Piety. Eusebia. Giving the Gods their due and appropriately recognizing their role in our lives. This is important; that seems fairly self-evident to me. If I don’t think the Gods are active in my life, what am I doing here? And if they are indeed, then how can I ignore them?

But… what does that mean? How do I do this? What are the parameters?

I suppose I should start out with what “piety” is not to me. I mean, if I start talking about a “pious” person, it can bring up some pretty strong and fairly negative connotations. Piety starts to look like a person who’s all God(s), all the time. Every smallest blessing is “from God”, even those that are products of the person’s own efforts. Any trial is an ordeal that God helps one through, or maybe a part of God’s plan. And you hear about it all the time, because the other thing is, God’s glory should be spread by the pious person. Right?

I don’t think so. I’ve talked about personal responsibility elsewhere here. I don’t think piety is giving that up. Piety is not giving the Gods credit for every single good thing and for your surviving every single bad thing. Piety is not about abasing yourself, about surrendering all free will and credit for anything (good or bad) that happens.

What piety is, is acknowledging the Gods’ role in your life, in honest terms. Honest not just about what they do for you, but also about where the boundary is where it’s no longer what they’re doing, it’s just your own skill or dumb luck or whatever. In my case, it’s a quick recognition each morning, with especial attention paid to those who are important to my life in general terms or who have some connection to something going on that day. It’s pouring a libation following some particularly good thing — to Hermes after a successful journey, for example. It’s formally recognizing and honoring a deity when I’m in their space, such as pouring a libation to Poseidon when I come to the ocean on vacation. It’s even smaller things, too, thinking of Zeus in a thunderstorm.

But it’s not surrendering your entire life to the worship of the Gods. There’s a difference between living mindfully and living slavishly. Piety is the former, and not the latter.

June is International Pagan Values Blogging Month, apparently. The call is to “write of the virtues and ethics and morals and values we have found in our Pagan paths” and “share how we carry these precious things forward in our own lives and out into the world.”

I am not normally fond of talking about “Pagan values”, but rather than waste my time reinventing the wheel to explain why I think I’ll just quote Sannion, with the addendum that I don’t know Pax personally but agree with the general sentiment here:

My friend Pax isn’t like the Borg drones I met in the AOL chats, or the folks behind the pagan unity campaign. He’s not interested in mushing us all up together, enforcing uniformity of thought and action. If anything he’s trying to accomplish the complete opposite of that objective. He is starting with the common denominator of our shared status as adherents of pagan religions and asking us to discuss what that really means. To examine our core beliefs, shaped by our various traditions, and to explore the values, ethics, and morals that we hold so dear. He is trying to show that no one group has a monopoly on such things.

Sannion’s whole entry is well worth a read-through, btw, and he’s much more polite about the whole Pagan Unity Campaign debacle than I might have been. Five years on, it still raises my hackles and I still remember Stormbear and Ginger with quite a bit of animosity. But I’m getting off-track; my point was, reading Sannion’s entry prompted me to wonder whether I should maybe try to write something up about my particular Pagan values. I’m not sure that I have a lot to contribute to the conversation at large, but it’s something that’s well worth exploring for my own sake, isn’t it? So, here I am.

The problem is, though, I get hung up on that bit about the stuff we have found in our Pagan paths. I didn’t find any new morals here, for the most part. The values and morals and virtues and whatever? Those are mine. They mesh with my chosen religious path, but they don’t exist because of it. You know?

That doesn’t mean that they don’t exist, though, I suppose; I can still write about the values I feel are connected to my religious path, yes? Even if I didn’t so much “find” them here.

I think I must write about piety, which I’ve done considerable development in since leaving the Christian church, and probably hospitality. I don’t need the diversity essay, though; Sannion’s already hit the points I would have, and done it better too. (And I’m not certain that’s as much tied to Reconstructionism or Hellenism specifically as much as it is my own personal outlook on living in a religiously pluralistic society.)

The theme, I mean. I am super-tired of the old one. This one gives me sort-of an appropriate look and allows me to use widgets, so it wins for now. I’m never one to leave well enough alone with a theme, though; as soon as I have a chance to update graphics, it will be changing again.

…And I apologize for the bright-orange links.

At some point, I decided not to call myself Reconstructionist because I didn’t feel I met the scholarly criteria for it. I felt I gave myself more “wiggle room” than Reconstructionism seems to imply and didn’t read enough primary and secondary-scholarly sources to really say I based my practice on them. I’ve recently started to question that, though. This is largely because of a particular discussion in which I found myself defending a particular aspect of Reconstructionism with unexpected fervor, and in which I felt as though the incorrect labels being applied were being applied to me despite my not generally feeling as though I can claim to be Reconstructionist.

Naturally, the way to proceed here seems to be to do a little bit of research. Let’s start with defining Reconstructionism.

TC’s paraphrase of Campbell says that Reconstructionism “differs from other types of modern Paganism primarily on its reliance on solid academic and historical sources regarding deities, worship and symbolism”, and then goes on to give five major points of difference. All five of those points I very much agree with; the general statement does not run counter to my religious outlook so much as I’ve just got gaps to fill in. It is my ideal, though I struggle to reach it.

Hellenion’s mission statement contains a definition of Reconstructionism (in Hellenic context) which gets more specific as to time periods and such than I had (though all the sources I’ve been drawing on are likely to conform to it), and offers guidelines for updates to the religion with which I firmly agree. Again, I don’t see anything here I wouldn’t agree with; I do see things I have personally failed to achieve thus far.

Ruadhan says that “Religious reconstruction of any variety is a method; the method is based largely on book-learning, and applying what one has learned of pre-Christian polytheistic religions to their own religious practises.” …Which, again, is true of what I’m doing even if I haven’t done as much book-learning (as opposed to web-learning from people who have actually done the book-learning) as I’d like.

I begin to see a pattern.

The question now is, if the only thing stopping me being Recon is that I haven’t met that ideal… is that really enough to stop me using the label anyway? Do I forgo using the term “writer” just because I haven’t (quite) finished a novel yet and because I feel my writing is substandard? Do I drop the self-descriptor that I am an avid reader despite the fact that I’ve taken longer and longer to finish reading anything these past few years and have trouble with nonfiction sometimes? When I was Christian, did I quit calling myself that because I hadn’t read the Bible all the way through and couldn’t quote theology on demand?

Sure, there are things that I don’t claim to be despite having an interest in them because I feel like I’m just a raw novice beginner and can’t really properly call myself that. Photographer. Graphic designer. Novelist (as distinct from “writer”). But these are things that I am genuinely just beginning at. I’ve been on this religious path for several years now, and while I still have a long way to go, I think I also know more than I think I do — or at least I know where to look if I don’t have a specific answer. Is it perhaps time to stop letting my own insecurities dictate things for me, rather than an honest look at what I’m doing and what I believe?

I know where I’m going, and where I’m going is rather clearly toward Reconstructionism. Do I really have to be there already before I can say “this is what I am”? I think… perhaps the answer to that is “no”.

And I think it’s time to change my “religion” listing at TC.

Busy moms learn how to balance family and faith

Two things I really like about this article. One is that the author seems to have made a conscious effort to make it inclusive; it mentions Muslim and Jewish examples as well as Christian. The other is that… it actually is exactly what I needed to hear right now.

I was skeptical when I started reading, but by the end… I actually felt better about my religious practice. If nothing else, the whole thing serves as a reminder that I am not alone in this. That it’s OK to not have enough energy to go around and — a lesson I keep learning over and over in many different contexts — when that happens, some is better than none at all.

I don’t know that I’m up to the whole idea of starting a women’s group or anything (where would I find enough other Hellenics to do that?). I could possibly try to revive Ta Hiera, but I don’t know if I have the energy for that. Maybe one day I’ll get to that point. Right now, I need to just set aside a few minutes each day. And I already have a good start on that–I do pray and pour libations most mornings, and I try to remember a quick prayer and libation at noon too. There you go. Daily practice, something to keep my hand in even when I get buried in diapers and dirty dishes.

The problem is, when the routine breaks, so does this. It’s tied into my morning routine–get up, feed cats, get dressed, comb hair, brush teeth, pray. If I put off getting dressed on the weekend, if I don’t brush my teeth because I got up late and I need to hurry, it throws me off and I miss the morning prayer. I also often miss the noon prayer on weekends because my weekend “routine”, such as it is, doesn’t make such a point of marking noon the way my weekday routine does. (See also main blog for yesterday.)

I think maybe the first thing I need to do in rebuilding my spiritual and religious side is to find a way to work those in even when I deviate from my routine. Probably this is more just a case of needing to establish a habit than anything. It should be simple; this doesn’t exactly take a long time. A minute, probably, no more.

Once I get that down, I can move on to trying to celebrate more major holidays or whatever, yes?

(I was thinking of trying to do something for Thargelia this year. Then I realized it fell on the two days that happen to be my brother’s wedding and the rehearsal for my brother’s wedding. So anything I do is going to have to be seriously, seriously creative–probably it’s better to just wait until next year.)

Seen on a church sign on the way to work last week: “Let God Change You From Victim to Victor”.

No. Just… no. Where to start?

My initial reaction was based on a deeply-rooted instinct that I have a personal responsibility to do the most I can to effect change in my life before petitioning the Gods for help. There is an old Christian saying that God helps those who help themselves. That’s something that has stuck firmly with me through every religious change I’ve gone through. I cannot simply render up my problems to the Gods and expect to sit back and wait for Them to change me. I have to put in the work myself.

A suggestion to let God change me suggests, to me, that I should relinquish that responsibility. I can’t. I won’t. And I don’t think They’d let me anyway, but that’s beside the point here. It’s important for me to be responsible for my actions.

That’s a strong moral conviction, but there’s more to it than that. There’s another saying about how with power comes responsibility — well, the reverse is true too. If I give up that responsibility and put it all on the Gods, I am also surrendering my power. And, you know, I’m not talking “rule the world” power here. I’m not talking “control people’s minds” power. Those things I don’t have anyway, and I don’t want, and I would happily give up.

There is also, though, the power to make my own decisions. The power to have some say in my own destiny. The power to be me, and not a puppet on a string. These things I will not let go willingly. And to let some god magically scrub away my problems… That implies a surrender that I will not give. It implies taking my life out of my hands and putting it in someone else’s. More, it implies taking my mind and my spirit and doing the same thing with them. Here. Make me your idea of perfect. Whatever you think. My opinion doesn’t matter. I know a lot of people find solace in the idea of giving their problems to God, but it seems a dangerous proposition to me.

Fortunately, I think my Gods would smack me silly if I tried it anyway.

Purify me?

I cannot/will not fix you.

I know that. The root cause is mine to address. All I’m asking is relief from current symptoms, this emotional turmoil that’s got me so torn up tonight.

*pause*

*wordless nod* All right, then, do this right. Clean, head to toe. Shave. Brush your teeth. Comb out your hair — don’t go to bed looking all wild like a maenad. Wash off that Rose Cross you put on earlier and put on some Delphi instead. There is some loose change in your pants pocket; in the morning, drop some of that into the offering dish. While you’re there, pick up some of what’s already there and put it in your purse — it’s time to start dropping it into collection canisters again. Rest. Sleep. Be at peace.

Thank you.

Years ago, one thing I considered an absolute “must” in my religious path was a personal connection to and relationship with deity. I got hit upside the head with one and figured I’d found what I needed.

That sounds like the introduction to a really bitter post about how I was so wrong. It’s not.

As time passed after the initial thwappage, I began to discover that what it meant for me was not what it meant for others. Others spoke of being given tasks to do, assignments, having been tapped for a particular purpose. I didn’t feel I had that. I sort of hung out with Apollo. I talked to Him, and He returned the favor, yes? But no sign of why ever really became apparent. This relationship just… was. Why? Why not?

Over time, the directness of the contact faded. The interaction between us became more formal, less immediate. It was no less meaningful for that, but I couldn’t help but question what the heck was going on anyway. Was I losing the connection? Was I letting personal emotion disappear into the habits of ritual and structure? And, still, where was that assignment? What did Apollo want of me?

The answer occurred to me last night. I have an appreciation for balance, even if it doesn’t play a big part in my religious beliefs or practices; the contrast between the sudden, almost physical impact of the initial thwap and the slow, steady dawning of this revelation makes me happy somehow.

I am called to follow. To worship, to honor, to praise. No more than that is desired of me now.

Let me be clear here, since some of those words hold some fairly negative connotations for some people. I am not called to self-abasement. I am not called to throw my brain in the trash and follow blindly along. I am not called to claim anyone as perfect, flawless, inherently and unwaveringly good, incapable of doing wrong. I am not called to deny my self or my potential in any way, shape or form in the name of religion.

I am called to tend the shrine. I am called to love, along with all that word implies, all the potential for disagreement and heartache and all the commitment to see it through anyway. I am called to honor, to achieve, to be honest and just, to heal, to listen. I am called to know and to remember.

Very warm and fuzzy. The problem, of course, is that I suck at it. My shrine gathers dust, I forget daily observances, I grow lazy and judgemental and too disorganized to make significant headway. Well, so do better. I’m sure I’ve heard some old joke about how there’s a reason it’s called religious practice.

There is one thing, though: I never forget. And with that, I have succeeded in fulfilling my calling, if only imperfectly.

Right. It’s not quite been a year since I blogged here. Yikes. Is anyone still out there?

I’ve been trying to read scholarly sources again. Mikalson’s more readable than Burkert, but I’m just not getting much of anywhere lately and I think I have to admit that it’s time to try something else. (This frustrates me very much, as detailed on my reading blog, but what I didn’t want to get into there was that I also sort of feel like a wannabe. I feel like I just keep quitting reading scholarly sources because it’s too haaaaaaard. Which, tough shit. You picked a religion with homework. And this is why this makes me feel like such a failure.) Then it hit me. DailyLit! Has Greek stuff! Primary sources! It’s a little limited in that I’m not sure what the translations are, and I don’t in most cases have the luxury of choosing which one to follow, but it’s better than nothing, which is what I’m doing currently. So the question now is, to dive into the Iliad again and try to finish it this time, or to move on to drama? It’s been a long time since I’ve read or seen any Greek drama…

I feel as though I may be setting myself up to fail. I know I’m in that kind of phase right now where everything seems terribly important and I’m trying to do too much, and I’m afraid I may wind up dropping back on religious practice again just out of sheer overwhelmedness-with-life. But I have to try, don’t I?

In other news:

I think this blog needs a new design, too.

Everyone at Mom and Dad’s (well, all the adults; not Natalie) got one of these in their stocking. Mine is sitting on top of my binary clock on my desk at work. It’s grey, with a creamy color on the breast and around the eyes. I just meant it to be a fun little toy, but… I can’t help it. Every time I look at it, I see Randall’s sig in my head, which is sufficiently tied to Athena in my head that my brain leaps right over the graphic to the Goddess herself. No direct contact, though. That I’ve recognized. Maybe just my imagination making connections.

Would it be a bad thing, though, to have more things that reminded me of the Gods around at work? Apollo’s got his own little shrine, of course, but I hadn’t necessarily given a lot of thought to the others. Which I haven’t been smited for yet (not a request), but it can’t hurt to pay the others, or at least the other Olympians, a little attention too. Maybe this would be a fun way to get back to a little more religious content in my life — do a little research and figure out what (either already on my desk or that I could add to it) I can do to represent the unrepresented.

I also kind of want to go through this blog and rearrange. Sort things better, maybe stick all the early angsty-me stuff into one big “old stuff” category or something, I don’t know. It feels very disorganized right now.