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PBP: A is for Agape | The Heart of Water
Cora Post’s brilliant take on Agape and the Gods:
On Compassion, Offerings, and Honoring Our Gods
Recently many of my spiritual Sisters and I have been discussing the nature of the Gods and the relationship we humans have with them. Many people in the Pagan and Polytheist communities feel that offerings and sacrifices must take place in order for the Gods to love us or that we must give them something in order for them to love us.
I was involved with a discussion where someone well known in a certain Recon circle replied with ROFL to a fellow Polytheist who considers herself Hellenic and Roman saying that her gods love her no matter what and despite not giving offerings.
Beyond the place that leaves me feeling that the Roman Virtues were far from upheld in that moment with those four capitalized letters, it got me thinking on my own personal home practice. While I could light incense, fires, and give offerings upon rising and laying down at night, it doesn’t happen and likely won’t. I’m a mother of a toddler. In my small home, I have little room to build multiple shrines. My lararium is downstairs; our only bathroom is upstairs. Typically by the time I go to the bathroom in the morning, my daughter is up and moving. Morning prayers rarely get said.
Do my household gods, dii Penates and Lares, love me any less for this fact? Would they love me more if I were to give myself a bladder infection and ignore my duties as a mother for them? They would not.
Saying otherwise would be, in my opinion, teetering dangerously close to superstition – That we must appease our gods through grand gestures and offerings. Was it not Varro who said The Gods do not want sacrifice, their statues even less?
Did he not also say The religious man reveres the Gods as he would his parents, for they are good, more apt to spare than to punish?
If, then, the Gods are like parents, then they are capable of unconditional love – For that is the true nature of being a parent. And while I understand all too well that our mortal parents may not have been there for us due to abuse, death, illness, or any number of unfortunate situations, I do not believe the Gods fall to such human conditions.
I believe the Gods love us unconditionally. Perhaps sometimes they dislike a person for their own reasons, but I believe there is still an underlying love there to be held if the person is still out walking around in the world.
My mortal parents love me no matter what I’ve done or do. I do not feed them. I do not make offerings to them that are beyond my means. A few times a year I give gifts, though typically I get a very sincere “You didn’t have to do that” response when I do. They understand that financially I’m unable to do these things quite often. This, too, is my relationship with the Gods. Even being on a devotional path with Apollon, he prefers other forms of offerings than food and libations; he prefers I don’t make a ritual out of my honoring him.
I feel that the greatest offering we can give the Gods is attempting to consciously model the virtues and ethics of our religions. As a person who practices mainly as a Roman polytheist these days, the Roman Virtues have been a framework with which to conduct my character for years. As an Apollonian, I attempt to live by the Delphic Maxims. I am by no means perfect, but when the time comes to reign myself in for whatever reason to align with these guidelines I remind myself that I am doing this to bring honor to my Gods…
Because I feel that honoring the Gods, and not simply worshiping them, is not so simple as burning incense or offering prayers praising and asking for something in return. While the Roman framework of ritual will help a person come into contact with the Gods more quickly, I find that my life is directly touched by the Gods with or without formalized offerings.
Instead my offerings come in the form of my daily life. I have been urging others to live a fully dedicated religious daily life for years now, and I will continue to do so. While I garden, I talk to the spirits and gods of the plants, the soil, the land around me. I offer a few strands of hair if feeling very moved to; otherwise I make watering the plants and composting into the soil and offering. While I clean, I bring myself into a mindful state and talk with the household gods; I offer them my time and the essential oils I use in my homemade cleaning supplies. While I cook, Vesta and I speak freely, and I find that she is quite pleased with the tiny space I’ve carved for her on the back of my oven where I spontaneously give her tiny pinches of herbs and sea salt as the mood hits me.
I feed the birds. I compost for Silvanus, who requested this of me recently. I dedicate my creative endeavors and running to Apollon, who in my own life is much more interested in creation and striving towards excellence than rituals of habit.
When you are truly involved with your religion and your Gods, when you allow yourself to push beyond the boundary of the boss/employee relationship so many of us cling to, you may find that you enjoy a much fuller relationship. For the Gods take on many roles in our lives. For they love us and, for the most part, wish to see us at our best. The Gods willingness to be our parents and help us grow as humans is one of the great offerings the Gods give us. Healing our own human understanding of what a parent should be like and the wounds that have been left by human parents’ shortcomings is liberating.
And this is not to say that my way is the only way. I am sure there are plenty of reasons why a person may chose to honor their Gods in a boss/employee relationship, including but no limited to the God in question wishing it to be this way. It’s simply that I see a trend of many Polytheists feeling that their way of practicing is the only way of doing things, and they treat those of us wishing to take a more personal approach to our faiths as “not doing it right.” Or worse we are delusional or “as bad as monotheists.”
To that I say that the Gods love us with or without food offerings and libations. In fact, the Gods love us without offerings at all. I encourage everyone to actually have a conversation with those they honor and see what they answer you; perhaps they will ask you to keep on the way you are. Perhaps they will tell you the same thing I am. But I feel it’s important for everyone to understand that they way you practice your religion is not the end-all-be-all of your religion as a whole. Most importantly, I feel it is our responsibility to our fellow community members to treat each and every person with respect and a valid voice in the tapestry of Polytheism and Paganism, to keep an open heart and mind in the event that our Gods are truly sending us a message that speaks to us down to the very core of our being – For that, I believe, is one of the greatest offerings we can give in honor of our Gods… That of compassion to all of those who love our Gods.
And the Winner Is…
Today was the last day of my giveaway, and I let folks know on my Facebook page that I’d be random.orging a number for the winner tonight after dinner. Amusingly, I drew my favorite number and one that shows up regularly in my life – 11…
So the winner is…
Danni of The Whimsical Cottage! If you haven’t checked out her blog, I’d suggest it. She’s a highly creative lady, and I’ve enjoyed her blog for quite some time now. She also has an Etsy shop, which is on vacation right now, but very much worth checking out when it’s up!
Congrats again, Danni!
Recipe: Hash Brown Casserole a la Big Girl Pants
I make hash brown casserole maybe 4 times a year. First of all, it’s one of those dishes you want to keep specifically when you need comfort food. Secondly, it never fails to be so rich that my stomach revolts against me for ingesting too much of it at any given time and never seems to get used to.
In my attempt to use up the last of the processed canned soup that just happens to show up in my pantry (Typically handed off to me by some well-meaning relative who bought extra on sale, and I take it with gratitude for their generosity) and the giant pile of new potatoes we need to get through, I decided to say yes to a modified hash brown casserole. I keep saying I “adulted” it up when I explain it.
I would also note that when I heated up leftovers for lunch, I threw some Spanish chorizo (my gift to myself this week) into the bowl and mixed it up. If you are not a vegetarian or cooking for one, I’d encourage hunting down Spanish-style chorizo to add to this… I’m not sure the Mexican-style would work as well, but it’s worth a try too. Also, if you use the salami-style (Spanish) chorizo, cut the butter down drastically. Consider about a tablespoon or two at most. Otherwise you will have grease city!
Hash Brown Casserole a la Big Girl Pants
Serves: 6-8
1 pound new red potatoes, unpeeled and diced into 1/2-inch cubes
2 green onions, chopped
1 can cream of asparagus soup
1 cup sour cream (embrace the full fat because it’s not like this is healthy for much other than your soul and sanity!)
1/4 cup butter, melted
1 1/12 cups sharp cheddar, shredded
1 T garlic powder (1 tsp if you’re not a garlic fiend)
Pinch of kosher salt and fresh ground black pepper
Topping:
1/2 cup sharp cheddar, shredded
1 cup Panko breading (traditional bread crumbs work just as well)
2 T butter, melted
Preheat oven to 350
1. Bring a large pot of water to boil. Place potatoes in water. Return to boil and blanch for 5 minutes. When finished, drain potatoes.
2. In a large bowl, mix green onions, soup, sour cream, cheese, butter, garlic powder, salt and pepper.
3. Add potatoes to the bowl and mix until evenly coated. Pour into a 2-quart casserole dish and even out the surface. Cover with cheddar cheese evenly.
4. In a small bowl, mix panko and butter. Sprinkle on top of casserole.
5. Bake for 40-45 minutes. Remove and let cool for 10 minutes before serving.
Giveaway Time!
I told myself when I got to 100 followers on my blog, I’d do some sort of giveaway. Well, I’m at 99 followers and 121 subscribers to my feed! I do believe that balances out, doesn’t it?
I’ve had this sculpture stashed away for a while. In high school (ages ago, cough), I did a series of Pagan gods and goddesses in clay. This was one of the smaller goddesses I made. She was intended to be a generic Triple Goddess, but I’ve personally always called her Diana.
She has been fired once in the kiln. So if you don’t care for her unfinished, a coat of primer and paint would work to add color to her. Or, if you have a kiln or know a place that does firing, you have the chance to glaze her!
All you have to do in order to win her is be a follower of my blog and comment below. If you don’t have an email in your profile or a blog that I can track you down on, please be sure to leave some way I can contact you.
This giveaway will end on July 13th, so there’s a small window to get signed up! I’ll be drawing a random number to pick the winner.
Social Anxiety and the Art of Avoidance.
Yesterday was supposed to be my first workshop on organic farming. I say was because I didn’t go…
I have social anxiety disorder (some call it social phobia disorder). I have been working on getting better about it for years now. I’ve had it my entire life in varying levels of severity, and there was a point where I wasn’t able to leave the house because of it. I avoid stores and driving – Especially without someone with me. I’m unable to make telephone calls to strangers or to make appointments even when it’s an emergency. There have been a few times that I have been vomiting due to a migraine and suffering worse because my neighbor’s stereo was too loud and I couldn’t manage to go knock on the door to ask her to turn it down.
Many who know me and are close to me usually don’t see it, or if they do it’s because I’m around too many people at once and have to flee and/or decline invitations to parties. Once I warm up a little, it’s a different story unless it comes to telling people no or confrontation. And since I’m lacking these social skills, it’s pretty easy to be a human doormat and magnet for those who are willing to take advantage of my seemingly good nature.
What happened on Wednesday with missing the workshop, though, is pretty effing painful for me. Google Maps messed up the directions, and the way my town is set up is confusing at best sometimes. In this case, the street it landed me on was the right one, but it ends halfway into the city and then has miles until it starts again in a seemingly random place. So, despite being a punctuality freak, it ended up with me giving up about 20 minutes after the workshops were supposed to start. I had no idea how to get there, and by the time I managed to get there I was going to have to walk into a room full of strangers late. Just thinking about that sort of situation makes my chest tighten up.
The truth is that I started in with my anticipatory anxiety about 4 days before, which was pretty impressive considering that it usually starts about a month in advance. For most of that time my excitement overshadowed my anxiety. But then I started sleeping poorly, and I think that weakened my ability to challenge myself as much as I usually do.
So, since my mother was dropping me off, I had her bring me home. I know she didn’t want to do it, and she even attempted to pull out a map (It wasn’t there). But by that point I wasn’t willing to push myself anymore; I’d been doing it all morning while alone on top of fighting all the irrational thoughts in my head for days before that.
I went up to bed and cried for a while. Mr. NaW brought me my computer, a package I’d received in the mail, and a book to read. I guess he realized I was going to be out of commission for the day. I actually slept most of it. Now I just feel depressed and sort of numb… And, well, frustrated and horrible about myself. Sometimes you have to throw a bit of a pity party, and since today I’m supposed to be in workshops again (which I won’t go to since I missed the first 9 hours of them) I don’t see tomorrow being much better. Hopefully after that I’ll decide to suck it up and carry on with my life.
But I am lonely. I love people, and this illness cuts me off from them. In the year we’ve lived here, I’ve not met a single person my own age nor have I made any friends. I’m so hungry for face-to-face interaction or any interaction at all that if I think too long on it, I begin to cry. For a while I didn’t really care, because my mother hadn’t gotten a job yet after moving. She does her best to keep me going out and doing things, but I see a lot less of her these days. Mr. NaW is very busy with school and research work, and I get to spend about an hour and a half with him each day – Most of it watching TV. I’m not upset with him about it, because he’s doing what he needs to do in life. We have one car, but I have a lot of trouble getting out by myself still. Every week I say I’m going to go do something, attend a UU service, a community potluck, or some meeting for a group I want to belong to, but by the time comes to do it I never seem to gather the strength required.
Even my friends that I’ve typically talked to on the internet for years and years are all super busy with their lives. We talk once a week if I’m lucky, and it’s nice to have that chance to talk to them even if most of the time I’m just handing over small talk. I hear a lot of “I’m here if you need me,” but I’m getting to the point where I simply no longer believe it. There are other people for them to worry about and they have lives to lead, and while it hurts I understand. I’m getting used to them not being there. We all used to role-play, but since I’m no longer involved with a game I don’t get a chance to indulge in healthy escapism. I miss that. A lot. But I don’t bring it up with them, because at this point I just feel like it would be some sort of charity case for the crazy girl without a life.
And that’s just it… I think that’s where the very core of the pain sits for me. I sit back and watch everyone else have a life, and while most of the time I’m content to fill my days bustling around the house, gardening, teaching myself something, or creating… Well, I just feel like my own life is at a stand-still and what’s holding me back is me. Yet I can’t seem to do anything about it.
To add insult to injury, the key part of my avoidance is brought on by things I recognize are irrational thoughts. I realize that what I’m thinking is crazy, but the more I challenge it, the more I wear down and become unable to fight the discomfort of it all. Medication doesn’t help. And just let me say that being sane enough to realize your having thoughts that aren’t right is actually a lot more troubling than being absolutely delusional since you’re aware.
It is easy to sit back without experience with this illness and suggest a person needs to cultivate a stronger “fuck it” attitude, but the very basis of social anxiety is the fear of being judged by others. That’s not just an attitude you can magically develop just because you want to. Personally I don’t think it’s a 100% healthy attitude for anyone to have, but my view may be skewed.
It’s also easy to suggest I get into therapy again. However, despite this situation being the most horrible, humbling experience I can come up with, I still can’t pick up the phone and call for help. Trust me, I’ve tried.
So… That is where I’m at. I had a fabulous couple of weeks despite being lonely. What goes up eventually must come down. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see when things go up again for me.
The Gods Answered My Slightly Existential Crisis… Part One
Years ago, I corresponded with a psychic from London. At the time, I thought about going into social work, and I asked her if that was the direction I was meant to go in. The answer I got back was that I would end up working to help people, because by the time I got to it the system would be so broken that it would need me. After years of struggling with my own mental health issues, I decided perhaps it would be too hard on me.
Then came a calling to ministry a few years later, which I still believe is a calling I’m supposed to heed. However, Pagan ministry is obviously not an easy calling, and originally my thought on Unitarian Universalist ministry has long since passed due to problems within their system I simply couldn’t endure.
In all my time, in everything I’ve wanted to do with my life, it’s always been about helping people. I’m rocked down to my very core by the urge to help, to teach, to lead by example on a regular basis.
The beginning of the year began with questions about my future. Astrologically, I’m coming to the last part of my Saturn Return, and I turn 30 in September. It disturbed me that, having always been a very goal-oriented person, I suddenly found myself with very vague goals that had no way to build upon them.
Things shifted in February, though. I have a baker’s dozen posts half-finished about my life and trying to make sense of it all starting from January and running until just last week. I’m still trying to make sense of where the journey has led me and the journey itself, but in April things slowly started to clear for me. The weird compulsions and vague ideas started cementing into something solid – Specifically, I began thinking that perhaps I was meant to be a farmer.
At the beginning of May, I received a link in a newsletter pointing me to an amazing educational opportunity – One that would help me build a business plan for a farming venture and get out into the world to see how others are running farms throughout the country. It’s virtually free for me to take these classes, travel both in and out of state, and get feedback on my plans for a business.
For 24 hours, I agonized over putting in an application or not. I talked to my loved ones about this chance and applying. My friend, Daniel, put it a little into perspective for me – If this is what I’m meant to do, despite openly admitting to having virtually no practical knowledge at this point, I’d get in. So I put in my request to the Gods – If farming is what I’m meant to do, please let me get into this program so I know.
That night I sent in my application. The next day I got a note saying I’d hear back when the deadline at the end of May had passed. I went about my business learning what I can and signing up for a few extra classes during that time, because I saw no point in missing out on them in the event I got into the program. There’s been a lot of dreaming things up and keeping my hands in the dirt.
I worried. And I fretted. Then I would chastise myself over worrying and fretting, which is really just doubting that you’ll be provided for. And all the while I kept talking to the Gods, saying I needed a clear sign of purpose. I’ve wanted to do a lot in my life, but at this age I find myself getting more worried about actually doing something.
Things rolled in and out of the information I was getting. A lot of articles on food ethics and the opinions of farmers in Roman society kept coming up. The deadline passed by, and I started feeling a deep anxiety in the pit of my stomach. What if I wasn’t accepted? Then what? Was it just a hurdle to jump, and should I apply later? Should I keep on this path? How the heck did I even get to this point? I checked my email with the nervousness of waiting for the call back after a first date, and I started scurrying out to my mailbox just in case they sent me information through mail.
So two Tuesdays ago, I couldn’t take it anymore. I went outside, looked up at the sky, and said aloud (I never say anything aloud!), “I can’t take this anymore. I have to know if I was accepted or not. Please, I’m begging you, just let me know if I got in or not. I’ll go from there.”
I came inside. I wandered around a little. I got a soda, and I sat down to check my email. According to Mr. NaW, the sound I made at that point was a cross between a final breath and a cow giving birth. The email was sitting there in my mailbox. I’d been accepted. I’d gotten my answer. The Gods are kind and good!
More on this later… The hows, whats, etc. I’m just sick of writing 15 pages and then not publishing them for everyone to see. It’s one in the morning, so I guess this is just Part One.
White Buffalo Calf Born in Texas & Scientists Trap Anti-Matter
The summer heat has rendered me unable to put together coherent thoughts. Therefore, you are getting videos and links today.
1. A white buffalo calf was born in Texas in May showing all the proper markings for it to be one of the sacred animals of prophecy.
I’m interested in what this guy has to tell us. He is seriously adorable, too.
A little more on the White Buffalo Prophecy and the outlook on it…
2. And finally, Cora over at The Iconoclastic Domina, recently talked about dark matter and soil in relation to The Emerald Tablet (Cora, if you read this, please hit me if I paraphrased this incorrectly!). Well, yesterday scientists were able to trap anti-matter for 15 or so minutes for the first time, which means they will be studying it soon. Living with a physicist, I seem to latch onto these things that I admittedly don’t fully understand with interest, so I thought I would share… Because on a gut level, without being capable of being eloquent about it today, I see it as an extension of “As Above, So Below,” too.
Rant: I’m Still a Pagan… And You’re Still a Jerk.
The issue with loving your home life as much as I do and being so busy with it is that sometimes you just lack much to say on your blog… Also, you other bloggers are so prolific in my google reader, that some days all I do online is sit and read and read and read. I could be held responsible since I follow so many blogs, but for once I feel like passing the blame onto others since it’s because you are AWESOME.
Plus everyone has been discussion about what Pagans should call themselves. If we should all be Pagans. How much easier identifying as a polytheist is, etc. For some reason this discussion kind of caused my eyes to glaze. I guess I’m of the “call yourself what you want” school. Being so solitary in my practice, and not being comfortable with my past experience with face-to-face (or sometimes in-your-face) Pagan community has left me kind of sighing over everything involved with this discussion.
I am a Pagan, though. Differing opinions would put me in as a “soft” polytheist, and some more hardliners would consider my view that all Divine beings eventually lead to one would try to pin me as a monotheist because of it. Yes, I believe in the Gods. I believe they’re both separate beings, but I believe they’re made up of the same unifying Divine we all are, which in turn makes them inseparable. And it’s that all-is-one mentality that keeps me from being able to claim I’m any specific thing beyond a Pagan. Beyond Paganism, my modern American religion, with all the melting pot of my spiritual upbringing and conversing with the gods, has left me without a label beyond Pagan.
So far I think the closest I’ve ever come to finding a group that believes in the same view of the Divine as me would be those practicing Haitian Vodou. A lot of the religion speaks to me, and I adore learning about it – In fact, if I went back to school for religious studies, I’d probably focus on the group of religions that belong in this family. But I don’t practice. No Loa has shown up and demanded I practice, and I don’t feel a particular need to do so.
In practice there is some overlap of belief with Religio Romana that I appreciate. And my ancestor worship is a major part of my practice.
My religion doesn’t have a name, and I like it that way. I love the Roman aspects of my beliefs like crazy. I work towards maintaining Roman values for myself. If I tried to call myself a member of Religio Romana the majority (or perhaps just the outspoken) of those practicing Roman polytheism would chase me around with pitchforks despite sharing quite a lot with them.
For years now I’ve been told that eclecticism is a thing that doesn’t lead to the pure spiritual path that practicing a single religion does. For me I feel like it has. Working with personal gnosis on top of research and education has taught me a very revealing thing about myself: If I don’t believe in it all, I have problems believing at all.
So… I’m a Pagan. I will remain a Pagan. I will continue to resist having to label myself beyond it, and I think in writing this I’ve come to the main reason why…
Because I’m sick and tired of all of these high and mighty opinions coming from everyone else. Glad your religious path is working for you. Glad you are finding meaning in your life. Glad your gods are paying attention to the love and devotion you give them. Really, I am. But please, for the love of all that is right and good, stop and think about what you sound like when you start in talking about the other side.
It is insulting when you consider me a monotheist, because I don’t consider myself one. And stating that I’m convincing myself that I’m not is really pretty self-important. I’m a human, which means that I’m never going to be 100% sure my beliefs are 100% true. I’m always going to be questioning and trying to figure things out… I think that’s part of what the purpose of humans is; I think that blind faith is dangerous. And if you want to consider me agnostic because of it, so be it… Though since I don’t consider myself agnostic, and you’re using it in a demeaning manner, I’m not sure how it is that you can get all bent out of shape that Pagan is a disparaging Christian term when people call you it. Seems a bit hypocritical if you ask me.
(And as a side note, I find the terms “hard polytheism” and “soft polytheism” to be insulting, too. Typically because it’s used by those who speak on “soft” in a way that makes it seem like they consider this worldview less valid. There is nothing soft about my beliefs, thank you. Figure out another way to express your concept of my beliefs when talking to me, because if you pretend ignorance on the derogatory term “fluffy” within this community and how soft could easily be taken to mean that, I’m going to call you on your shit.)
I feel really, really put out of place when I read opinions about eclecticism being a weak path. Like somehow my beliefs not being easily labeled and categorized makes me religiously lesser than others who can say “I am (such and such).” I’m absolutely thrilled (and I’m not being sarcastic) that you are able to find a religion that speaks to you 100% or that you are able to at least overlook the differences. I can’t. I’ve tried, and it doesn’t work. And I am tired of feeling like my belief system is anything less than yours just because no one else practices exactly like I do, and I understand that most religions are a giant mish-mash of the religions that came before them.
Plus those pants make you look bloated. Okay, maybe I’m just butthurt. But seriously, people, please think before you start writing about what you think of other people. I don’t think I’ve even gotten my point across, because after weeks of this all I can do is rant still.
Awesome. Only not at all.
Foxglove & Firmitas 