From Wordle:

From What’s up with this aura fluffing thing?

From Prayer to Hanuman. I think this one is my favorite.

From Dedication to Bridghid

An email I received from this blog has sparked my thinking. A young person asks about the significance of signs found in the natural world.

I was looking out from a bedroom window and saw some ravens. For some reason, I counted them, and there were nine. Again for some reason, I felt that this was
significant. I have just googled nine Ravens and found myself here. Is it
significant?

From my perspective, the significance of anything in our lives lies in what it inspires or motivates us to do, be, or think. If seeing nine ravens inspired someone to google and that person found inspiration in reading my web site, then it was significant for that person in that moment, and sparked me to think about this topic more and now write about it. So, now it has some impact on my life as well.

Many of us are constantly asking for a “sign.” How many times have I stood at the metaphysical crossroads and begged for a sign from the gods! Just give me a sign that which way to go. Give me a sign that the world is a beautiful and good place. Give me a sign that there is hope in the darkness.

These signs or messages are all around us, if you are in the right frame of mind and spirit, if we are open, if we really need a sign. Synchronicities do happen. For example, lately orange cats have been on my mind, or I should say I’ve been obsessed with them. The other night I was driving down a dark road and thought that I should turn my high beams on. Seconds later, an orange cat streaked across the road. I was able to see it in time to brake and avoid hitting it because I had my high beam lights on. Does this mean anything beyond I was able to save a kitty’s life? I don’t know, but I do know that I would have felt devastated to hit an orange kitty (or for that matter, any cat).

As the saying goes, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. But at other times, it can be a symbol for a penis, a token of respect, an offering to the orishas, a reminder of some long forgotten experience, or all of the above. Paying attention to the world around us allows messages from the Deeper Self (the divine part of our self) and Younger Self (the unconscious) to get through to our Talking Self (our conscious, waking self). Deeper self and Younger self take advantage of the synchronicities in the world around us and the mental and emotional connections that we already have built up to make themselves heard by Talking Self. A chance encounter with a stranger. Seeing different books about the same topic repeatedly in very different contexts. Noticing something odd in nature and googling it because it piqued your interest.

Sounds like a sign to me. But I have no idea what it means…

As a teacher and student, I like to start my explorations into a topic by defining my terms and looking into the origins of key words. I won a season of Lincoln-Douglas debates on my defining “revolution” to exclude the American Revolution, thereby not allowing my opponents to justifying their arguments using that war. Mean? Yes, but high-school forensics is a take-no-prisoners sport (of a type I no longer engage in).

I do not fully intellectually grasp a concept until I have contemplated the language we use to communicate that concept to one another. Writers use words with assumed meanings and connotations, and subtly manipulate words to sway their readers. Discerning readers can deconstruct a writer’s usage of certain words to gain insight into the writer’s biases. As an exhibits editor, I have to bring this word play to conscious awareness and examine the impact of individual words on our museum visitors’ comprehension. Add to that fun mix the fact that, in normal conversation, we tend to use words in idiosyncratic ways – each of us meaning slightly different things but using the exact same words – paving the way for so much misunderstanding and fighting.

So, it should come as no surprise that I would start my annual project for Reflections Mystery School by reviewing the key term of the paper: vocation.

According to the American Heritage Dictionary, vocation refers to a regular occupation, especially one for which a person is particularly suited or qualified; or an inclination, as if in response to a summons, to undertake a certain kind of work, especially a religious career; a calling.

Of course, I just had to go over to the thesaurus and take a peek. In addition to duty, lifework, and mission, I could say that my vocation is my bag, baby. It’s what I do. It’s my thing. Of course these are all informal or slang uses. But if you say it with an Austin Powers emphasis…. OK, maybe it’s only funny in my head.

Now, what I find more interesting is that one of the antonyms for vocation was fun. Hmmm…not fun. I can definitely understand that. What brought me to begin walking my path consciously was clinical depression and a crisis of faith. Life itself tasted like ashes in my mouth, and I felt completely alienated from the divine connection I had previously experienced. After a year of secular therapy, I had the clarity to decide to start working on myself spiritually. While I have grown and learned so much, and had periods of great joy, and much humor with those with whom I travel, the work itself – not so much fun. But I look forward to the work. I am finding more joy in embracing the wonder in freshly exploring new realms and in wielding my skills and expressing my talents. So, that is fun.

From Etymology Online, the word vocation used to describe a “spiritual calling” comes from the Latin vocationem (literally “a calling”) from vocare “to call.” Call has its roots in Old Norse kalla “to cry loudly” and the Proto-Indo-European base *gal- “to call, scream, shriek.”

Which leads me to wonder who is calling whom? Is the Divine (in their myriad manifestations) calling to me and hoping that I will hear and act? Am I am wandering in the wilderness shrieking out in the hope that the Divine will respond? Are we calling to each other in our own languages, reaching out to embrace each other in life and love? These are questions I will sit with for a while without jumping to conclusions.

Taking a page from Jeff Lilly’s blog Druid Word of the Day. I wanted to look at vocation’s phonosemantics: how the sounds of the word contribute to its meaning in subtle ways.

So, taking bits and pieces from many of Jeff’s entries and with apologies if I mess this up…

The “v” may indicate a vibrating energetic boundary, which is grounded by the long “o”. The hard “k” sound acts as a container that is expanded and extended by the long “a”. The encompassing, living energy of God Herself (in the sense that Thorn uses the term to refer to “The Limitless”), moves down the Tree toward our physical realm, while the container that is the human heart and spirit reaches upward to the other realms and is expanded in the process.

The “sh” sound where they meet is a border, a moment in time and space where there is strong turbulence before the energy is released into thought by the short “u” toward the noble goal of “n”. Actively seeking conscious connection with God Herself, whether I am making or answering the call, brings me to my personal edge of the Abyss. When I make that leap of faith beyond my rational human senses, the energy of manifesting is released toward the noble goal of living my life fully.

Wow! I wasn’t sure where I was going to end up with this entry when I started. I think I need a cigarette…oh wait, I don’t smoke.

Technorati Tags: vocation

It happens often enough to comment upon. Some unsuspecting newcomer attends a Becoming event or stops by our booth at Pagan Pride Day and is asked if they want their aura fluffed. You can imagine their surprise, and sometimes horror. They may have heard that Becoming is a “well respected” group in the DC Pagan community, and now a bunch of dewy-eyed folks brandishing fluffy sticks surrounds them and asks if they want their aura fluffed.

Aura fluffing? What the heck is that? Even my Pagan fiancé once incredulously asked me, “So, your group’s main magical tool is a lamb wool duster?!”

Well, yes and no.

At its simplest, aura fluffing is a fun way to give and receive support and encourage from those close to you. As babies, many of us are touched, caressed, and cuddled. This physical closeness is developmentally important. Babies who don’t get it don’t get it. Get it? But as we grow older, the sphere of who is allowed to touch us in such loving, intimate ways grows smaller. Caressing and cuddling becomes sexualized, and many of us are uncomfortable with loving touch outside of a romantic or intimate context. The playfulness and silliness of aura fluffing allows both the “fluffer” and “fluffee” to return to a more child-like where spontaneous and exuberant affection can be expressed, while at the same maintaining a psychically comfortable physical distance. I am not touching you with my taboo hands but with a tickly wooly duster.

I could talk about auras as magnetic life-force fields generated by the human body, the need to invigorate that life force, and how stagnant energy, like stagnant water, turns rank, smells bad, and breeds disease. I could talk about how humans are a social species who need contact with others, and that alienated individuals tend toward depression and other mental and physical health concerns, whereas community encouragement and positive attention increase a person’s overall happiness and chances of reaching their goals.

But that would be too serious, and hence, a bit silly. Aura fluffing is silly! But that does not mean it is frivolous or unimportant. The silliness facilitates the critical work that aura fluffing does. As a good friend told me, “Laughter is known to release stress, lower blood pressure and all sorts of good things. Being touched by a feather duster immediately brings out the giggles and smiles. The laughter soon follows.”

I recently asked a bunch of folks what they thought was happening (spiritually, energetically, emotionally, physically) during a fluffing. One response—“I never thought it was more than a silly, fun thing to do. I did feel more grounded yet light hearted afterwards”—got me thinking. Aura fluffing is easy to dismiss as “fluffy bunny.” In fact, I would bet that some of the Becoming folks inwardly groan when we do public fluffings or just don’t consider it “serious magic.” But what is magic? Many pagans use Dion Fortune’s classic definition that magic is “the art of changing consciousness at will.” As a Becoming member once expressed, “either the energy-draining forces get swept aside, or the positive energy pops up and forces itself to appear. Either way, you get a break in the stagnation and you end up feeling lighter. If you are happy- the world looks better, if you are unhappy- the world looks scary, daunting, and pessimism is rampant.”

Sure, we could, and sometimes do, surround the act of aura fluffing within a sacred circle, ritually set built and set aside for magic. However, if we prescribed an intricate, scientific, clinical, or esoteric ritual around it, the very thing that makes aura fluffing work would vanish. There would be no heart-felt connection or return to childish fun.

And at its core that is what aura fluffing is all about – connecting from the heart to the heart. The silliness of aura fluffing breaks down our everyday barriers in a safe way and allows our Younger Self, or child soul, to play and shine, even if only for a little while.

Yeah, but does it work? If you have cancer or a cold, getting your aura fluffed isn’t going to send the disease into immediate remission or bestow miraculous cures, but it does lift the spirit and make the day seem a bit brighter, which can make all the difference to the person going through trying times. From this perspective, how can aura fluffing, as silly as it is, not be magic? Magic with results, even.

Sitting vigil with the ill or dying or their family is an awesome task in the original sense of the word. It is a sacred and frightening and joyful and uncomfortable and intimate honor and duty. I hope that these words and ideas are helpful to you when you find yourself sitting in a hospital waiting room or at a friend or family member’s bedside.

First, remember to breathe. Breath is the life force moving through and enlivening us. In traumatic times, our breath changes and sometimes stops. Take slow, deep breaths when you feel yourself closing up, getting uncomfortable, or feeling insecure. Your breathing with intent will help your friend to breathe more easily. Have her breathe with you.

The same goes for grounding. It sounds elementary, but breathing and grounding are many times your best tools for working through strong emotional pain. By grounding yourself, you automatically help your friend ground. If you find yourself not grounded, don’t berate yourself — just breathe and ground. If you can, guide her through grounding as well.

Open your heart to the experience. When we are faced with illness and death, we often close ourselves down in orderto numb or escape our feelings of sadness, helplessness, and grief. If you close yourself off, you will not be able to connect or empathize with your friend. Opening your heart works sympathetically, just as breathing and grounding do. Your open heart gives your friend permission to feel and experience her own insecurities and fears with you. Opening the heart in these times can be scary and uncomfortable. That’s okay. Allow yourself to feel those emotions and then call on the Goddess to give you strength, comfort, and compassion.

Never underestimate the healing power of touch. Humans thrive on touch. It is the easiest way to connect, to show that we care. When in situations like this, often the patient and the family lose touch. They do not touch each other. They are not touched by others. People not directly affected tend to withdraw, as if they will be contaminated if they touch and connect. Holding someone hand, rubbing their back, giving them a gentle hug with your hand gently but firmly holding the back — all of these communicate love and comfort without any words needing to be spoken. One no-no, however, is to pat them on the back when embracing them. No matter how gentle, this patting sends the message that what they are experiencing needs to be repressed and shoved back into the body.

Listen more than you talk. By opening up and just listening to whatever your friends says in her time of need, without always responding, without any judging, without chattering on, allows her to explore her feelings. Let your friend feel her feelings, some of which she may be horrified or discomforted by. Let her know that it is okay to have all sorts of emotions, and fantasies. Her wondering what the future will be like will not cause bad things to happen.

Enter the silence. We are very uncomfortable in silence and often search for any way to relieve our discomfort — watching TV or talking about anything but what is happening are frequent ways of numbing ourselves from ourselves and our situation. Resist the temptation. If you can, find soothing music to play. Or if the waiting room is too crazy, suggest that you two have some quiet time in the hospital chapel — usually there is no one there, and if they are, they are there for the same reasons.

Don’t be afraid to cry, too. If your friend is crying and you feel tears welling up, don’t repress them. Let yourself feel fully and empathize. If you remember to breathe and ground, you won’t loose control of yourself. You are holding the container for your friend during this time — the sacred space in which she can find comfort and healing while in the center of a whirlwind of fear and hope.

Do magic. If you need to cast a quick circle of protection around you and your friend, you can do so easily by visualizing the energy coming up from the Earth, circling around you, and into you. If you need to call on the elements, a silent or quietly spoken prayer invokes them just as well as a full-blown ritual with props. The gods always answer our calls. If your friend is pagan or religious, don’t be afraid to suggest that you two pray together. The words will come directly from the heart to the Goddess. Your friend may be comforted by the sound of your words, asking for strength, comfort, healing, and peace. If your friend does die, a prayer, asking the Hecate (or whoever is special to her or the family) to take her into Her arms and guide her to the next step on her journey and to comfort the living left behind, is good too.

One last thing — no platitudes. No “it’s for the best.” No “it’s the will of the gods.” No “everything happens for a reason.” No “it will be alright.” All of these may be true, but they are not what your friends needs to hear right now. There is nothing to say that can make death better or easier to deal with. Again, you breathe and ground, touch and listen. Letting your friend know that you are there to support and love her is more helpful than any “easy” platitude you can say. If she rails against the gods for this happening to them, don’t admonish her or correct her with theology. Again, not helpful right now. Hold the container and let her express these difficult emotions. If she asks you what you believe about illness and death, tell her gently and openly. But expect that this may still not help her right at this time. It will not dull her pain or make her grief any easier to walk through. Later, it may grow as a seed planted and give her comfort.

I pray that you find a connection to the Goddess during these times and that you find strength and compassion to help your friends, your family, and yourself. Remember She is always with us, even when we feel all alone.

There was an amazing exhibit at the US Botanic Garden, titled sLow Life, that featured time-lapse photos and videos showing how plants move and respond to their environment, when from our human perspective plants are relatively static. This got me thinking about how our perspective really determines our experience of the world.

So much of what we “know” depends upon our perspective. How we sense the world, our position in space, time, and the social structure, our beliefs, our past experiences – all contribute to our unique perspective. It is amazing that two people can even communicate at all. Often we can’t. Even in mundane, trivial discussions we use language in idiosyncratic ways. These differences in definition and connotation are unspoken, and we think that we understand each other, but we don’t. Or we may think we disagree, but find upon further examination of our assumptions and definitions that we actually agree.

At the risk of going political, Pagans see Jews, Christians, and Muslims as more alike than not – all followers of the Abrahamic god. But from their perspectives, they are completely different. Just as they see Pagans as essentially the same, but we see the differences within our community between traditions and paths.

So, I have to ask: Is the War of Terror just one big Witch War writ large on the global theater instead of in an Internet list serve? You know, we’ve all seen it – two people (or more) just go out of control and flame each other, draw more people into the fight, and thereby destroy the very community they claim to want to save.

So, let’s ask ourselves “Who is the troll?” Or more correctly “Who are the trolls?” I see people on both sides doing and saying things to enflame other folks who could work together if they were encouraged and guided to do so. No, these trolls only look for ways to divide and sow mistrust and anger. Just your classic flame war.

I also believe there are people on both sides who truly want to find solutions. Their voices are quieter, drowned out by trolls and the angry mob. Maybe they don’t know how to work together, but they are struggling in the quagmire caused by the trolls.

Then there are those who don’t care and finally just get so frustrated at the media circus of sound bites and shield beating that they withdraw. They leave the community to live out their lives without reading the news or participating in the attempts to change. They are the silent and they are the majority. But their silence does them no good. For they live in the same world we all do. There is no escape.

Why are the trolls so damn loud?

Why do we listen to them?

Is there something in the nature of our species that finds it so easy to dehumanize and demonize another if someone tells us to do so long enough and loud enough?

It is one of my hopes with Becoming that we not only learn and say that the divine abounds everywhere, but that we live that truth and begin to actively and consciously look for the divine spark in all people. That we take that perspective into our daily lives and dealings with others. We may not like how others act or react. We may not agree with them. We may have to “draw the line” to protect ourselves and others. But keeping in mind that they are just as divine as we are helps us to not dismiss them as “just assholes” or demonize them, but to deal with them consciously, to try to understand what their perspective is, and to act from a place of understanding rather than anger and fear.

Because when I consciously look for the divine spark in others, I find it in myself. And when I demonize or dehumanize others and deny that they also have the divine within them, I lose connection with the divine within me.

We are all of us human and we are all of us divine.

I woke up from a dream this morning in which I was visited by a young woman and her family to talk about the death of her husband and to plan a memorial service for him. The woman primarily needed someone to listen to her as she worked through her emotions surrounding his death and what had happened to him afterwards. She wanted some reassurance that whatever it was that happened after death, that he would not be in pain.

This got me thinking this morning on my walk to work about how I envision whatever happens after our deaths. Blame it on all the reading I am doing for my death doula training…

I have to admit upfront that we do not and cannot intellectually and logically know what happens to us after death. Knowing what happens after is not the same as knowing that the capital of Iowa is Des Moines. Not everyone agrees. It is not a fact that you can point to and say, “This is how it is and I know because I have been there and remember.” Well, there are plenty who could say that. But I think we can safely say there is no verifiable proof one way or the other. While I do not know, I can imagine and envision what may happen. And I imagine quite a bit.

I imagine that when my physical body dies that the part of me that is spirit and aware will continue to exist. I imagine that I will get to sleep for a while and then awake refreshed and ready to decide to either meld my spirit with flesh again or become one of the Ancestors. I imagine that I may feel totally detached from humankind and decide to explore the universe from a vastly different perspective. I imagine that when my spirit separates from my dead body that it will be simply reabsorbed into a great energetic ocean that enlivens the entire universe.

Sometimes I imagine that the thinking, feeling, perceiving part of me is intrinsic to the flesh, and that when the body dies, what we like to think of as spirit ceases to exist. This is not as horrifying to me as it used to be. In this case, I will not feel the pain and anxiety nor the happiness and joy I feel now. But I can take comfort in the fact that I can arrange to have my body disposed in such a way that it is more easily reabsorbed as part of the world around me. I don’t have to be the end of the food chain. I also take comfort in the fact that I will be remembered and that I have done things in my life that, hopefully, have made a difference to others.

Faith occurs in holding the paradox. I don’t know, but I can imagine. I can imagine different scenarios, and I am okay holding what seems like paradox. Both/and rather than either/or. None of these imaginings are any more true than any of the others, or than any of those that humans have imagined in the past and called “truth.” And I do not fear any of them.

I do have a fear, and that is the possibility that my body will die and my awareness will continue to exist, but in isolation, being trapped inside itself and having no reference to anything else. To spend eternity in the darkness, without touch, without sight, without any way to make connection with anyone or anything else. To be utterly alone and alienated. To me, that would be Hell. Without a body, physical torture means nothing. Without a body and no one to accompany and nothing to perceive, I can imagine that but not without shuddering deep inside.

This may be why death is so feared. At the bottom line, at our most naked, we face the great unknown, the mystery, and come away awestruck but still not knowing until this body, this human that we are, dies. What an adventure!

I belong here and nowhere and everywhere
I am the sea that rises up and takes back

Sides are being taken and lines are being drawn
I wash over opposing armies indiscrimately

I am the sea that rises up and takes back
Hate and love, right and wrong, life and death

These mean nothing to me
I am the sea that rises up and takes back

I am that I am

Om Shri Hanumate Namah
Greetings to you, Lord Hanuman!

You are the Remover of Distress.
You are the Lord of the Senses.
You are an ardent listener, always so keen to listen.
You are a Great Warrior, capable of supporting all.
You are the sentry at the door of the Divine Abode.

Swift as thought and powerful as the wind are you, great Hanuman!

Your heart is filled with love and devotion for the Divine.
You are the repository of learning, virtuous and fully accomplished, always keen to be of service to the Divine.
You have been embraced by the Divine and have felt its heart full of joy.

The burden of all difficult tasks of the world become light with your kind grace.
I honor you, Hanuman, and seek your blessings.

Embrace me as you have been embraced.
Bless me as you have been blessed.
Fill my heart with love.
Fill my mind with intelligence.
Fill my soul with purpose.

I enshrine you within my heart and soul.

Om Shri Hanumate Namah

Thoughts spurred by a a tsunami and cyber-citizens across the globe

On December 28, 2004, the Guardian, a British newspaper, ran an essay by Martin Kettle asking how can a religious people explain the deaths of thousands caused by a natural disaster. In his article Kettle mused on the difference between the explanations given by science and those given by religions on why these things happen. For Kettle, Science wins out as having the rational and logically consistent answer, as he inferred that no rational, modern person could seriously believe that God was punishing evildoers, as Christian, Muslim, and Buddhist alike were wiped out regardless of religious adherence.

A day later, an email crossed my desktop, in which the writer asked: In Pagan terminology, “How can the Goddess do this?” or “Why has Poseidon caused this to happen?” or “What did we do to deserve this from the Gods?”

In both cases I was struck by how our conceptions, assumptions, and definitions of “god” or “the divine” influence not only our answers, but perhaps more importantly, the questions we ask. Both authors seem to have an assumed conception of God, or the Gods and Goddessses, as personal, omnipotent, and concerned about humankind. Not all religious or spiritual people have this same conception of God or the Divine.

In my pagan-pantheist worldview, the universe was not created and does not function with the convenience or even survival of the individual human in mind. The universe is much bigger than we, as individual humans, are. Natural phenomenon just happens. The universe (and the earth) considers the individual human about as much as we consider the life and death of a single cell in our bodies. At this level, Divinity (with a capital “D”) is not personal, as it is seen in the many monotheistic conceptions of a personal god whose eye is on the sparrow (and so, is obviously watching me at all times).

Taking a viewpoint closer to home, there are entities that are concerned with the human realm. These individual or personal deities are not omnipotent nor do they have control over the overall natural processes of larger cosmological entities, such as a planet or a star or a galaxy. Their sphere of influence and concern is the human level.

The question we should be asking ourselves, in my mind, is what can we, as humans, do to help mitigate the effects and suffering of other humans in such situations. What does our theology say about how we treat each other? How do our gods and personal deities influence how we respond to such a situation and the crying for help of others, especially others not of our specific tribe?

I have been asked how I reconcile the two seemingly different theological frameworks of polytheism and pantheism. Some contemporary Western Pagans sense this paradox and conclude that there is no literal existence of individual deities (Zeus, Jehovah, Kali, etc.), rather they are archetypal constructs. On an intellectual level, they have a more pantheistic perspective, but they acknowledge in themselves, and others, an almost instinctual, primal need to personalize divinity. Therefore, their religious expression is more polytheistic.

The rational scientific pantheist may look askew at personifying the great big Divine of nature, but for the contemporary Western Pagan who is investigating pantheism in his or her spiritual quest, understanding different levels and definitions of deity is important in theory and practice. My personal base philosophy is pantheist, but I come at it through years of interacting in the pagan community. I also consider myself agnostic, in that, while I have theories, frameworks, and metaphors that I use in ritual practice, I also admit that I really don’t KNOW the exact nature of the divine. So, I have developed a personal theological framework, which I find useful for living my life and participating in my religious community. It may or may not be any more real than any other framework. It just makes sense to me.

We can talk about what we call “deity” or the “gods” on, at the very least, two different levels. There is personal, individual deity - Hecate, Lugh, Kwan Yin, etc. I liken these to individual humans, but on a different plane. These are the gods that we call on when we need that personal touch. Much like we call on specific friends when we need a shoulder to cry on or the car fixed. Are these Gods really specific, independent entities or archetypal constructs? I don’t know. But I treat them as specific entities, just as I would individual people I know.

On a third level is the impersonal Divine — the totality of the universe. Does this totality have a personality, a consciousness? Again, I don’t know. I cannot know. Just as the mitochondrion cannot know if the human in which it lives has a consciousness. But I would posit that the Divine is sentient and that it is WAY beyond what you or I or any human could fathom.

The relationship between the specific deities and the Divine could be likened to the relationship between individual humans and humanity. Jungians talk of the collective unconscious of humanity, and one could think of the mind of the impersonal Divine in a similar fashion. Again, is this empirical truth or useful metaphor? I have to admit that I don’t know.

My view of divinity has been labeled objective, scientific, and non-religious, as if that negates human feelings of despair and compassion. I have encountered those who think that such a dispassionate view of the Divine could only be posited by someone who has not been directly affected by human tragedy or who is an “unfeeling scientific rationalist.”

Like everyone else, I find myself asking “why me?” when life does not go my way, when I am broke, when someone breaks my heart, when people close to me die. I do find spiritual comfort in the fact that it is not the gods who are after me, that they are not trying to punish me. My experience of personal pain may be minor in comparison with the rampant death and disease left by the wake of the tsunami, but in my fight with depression and the death of my father, I found this stance unexpectedly comforting.

Now some would say that, without a personal, transcendent deity, one has no grounds for defining or judging between “good” and “evil.” This is a rather simplistic, all-or-nothing view. Neither pantheism nor neo-paganism views natural phenomenon as evil. And there may be no “good” or “evil” on a universal or cosmological level, at least not that we would comprehend – our scale of reference is too narrow and does not encompass millions of light years. An impersonal divinity does not take the burden of evil off of humanity’s shoulders, but instead rather places the responsibility squarely on us. Evil lies within the realm of what we, as humans, to do other humans and the world in which we live (including animals other than humans as well). If ultimate divinity is impersonal, we have no devil or god to blame for what we do. Ameliorating suffering, being compassionate, working together are good actions, at least from a human perspective. And even though most neo-pagans twitch at the word, I would argue that actively ignoring or adding to suffering constitutes “evil.”

A shift in climate is not evil. But someone, a person, a group, or a government, who uses the effects of a climate to take advantage of the suffering caused by it, is to my mind evil.

Every time we face a traumatic event, such a death in the family or an earthquake, our worldview and our relationship with our gods – our stories – undergo upheaval. In order to make meaning and find our place in the world, we have to adapt our stories or find, and sometime create, new stories to tell ourselves. These are my stories and I offer them to you in the hopes that you may find some truth and comfort from them.

Blessings from a full heart.