Wicca is a contrary religion.
I was an atheist for most of my life, then I began to suspect that there was something bigger than us out there, then I got proof of that. I heard a great quote many years ago that faith is about revelation, which is why it's so hard for a theist to speak to an atheist without a lot of mutual eyerolling.
I didn't just wake up one day and say, "Hey! I'm going to be Wiccan!" Oh, no. My journey was much harder than that. I won't go into it in any great detail, but to say that there came a day when it felt more foolish and ignorant to remain blind to obvious truths instead of embracing them. I thought faith would enslave me. Instead, it set me free.
As I said, Wicca is a contrary religion, one that's slippery and hard to define. Traditional Wiccans such as the Gardiners, who practise in covens and have a 'degree' system may not agree with my interpretation of this religion or even consider it valid. Then there are fellow solitaries, like me, who will agree with my general interpretation of Wicca, but shake their head at how I embody the religions tenents. I don't feel any need to 'justify' my faith. How I practise is a matter of discussion between my gods and myself and no one else. Sometimes I'd like an 'elder' with whom to like dialogue, but it's fitting that I live my faith as I live my life, in solitude.
Being Wiccan for me means adhering to the Rede, honouring the Sabbats, celebrating the Esbats, and having a personal relationship with the gods I have come to know, love, and hopefully honour. It is about opening my eyes to the energy patterns that pulse through the universe and to live in harmony with them. It is about stilling my inner voice long enough for my soul to have a chance to speak.
I know a lot about other religions, considered them all, but could not see myself within them. I'm not saying that other religions are 'wrong' or 'narrow-minded' or 'closed.' They're just not for me and I refuse to argue the 'validity' of one faith or another.
Being Wiccan has given me a framework to add another dimension to my identity, that of Witch. Some Wiccans do not separate these two facets of their life, but I choose to do so. I see Witchcraft as my practical application of my faith. Again, some may disagree, and it's their right to do so.
Believing in something is still something alien to me and it causes a giddiness that makes me giggle. I cannot take my faith Seriously (as opposed to seriously). My gods are mischievious and have a sense of humour and while they usually turn out to be completely right, it still feels good to argue with them sometimes. They are my muses, my guides, my parents, my friends, my confidants, but never my judges. I'm hard enough on myself as it is.
My religion has enabled me to forgive myself for a lot of my faults and to even identify some of them as qualities. It has also taught me that self-knowledge, not self-denial, is the key to 'salvation.' I live lustily now, work hard, play hard, and finally feel that I am in control of my destiny. My spiritual dimension now has a focus and I am able to direct my life force instead of continually squandering it.
Wicca might be a contrary religion, but it suits me and I look forward to many more years of exploring the riches it affords me.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
One door closes... and the whole of the universe beckons
My father died three weeks ago.
It was expected and I was blessed to have had the privilege of making my peace with any unresolved issues we had before he left. I was there in his final days, caring and nursing for him, assuring him that it was okay to move on to the next part of his life, to sail to a better and easier place.
He did not have a good life. It was one of limitations, abuse, toil, disillusionment, and bitterness. But the little joys he did have, he savoured. His accomplishment was His Girls, who learned from his lessons and built a richer, happier existence for themselves. When he knew that he would be sailing in short order, he was able to accept this because he would be leaving His Girls enough to build a solid foundation for their lives. He wanted us to truly live, to see and do things, to have a lot of stories to tell him when we met up with him again on our own journey to the next realm.
My father worried about me a lot, living as I did in the middle of nowhere with a long commute to work. He was pleased to learn in his final weeks that I'd finally made the decision to return to The City. During his final lucid hours, three days before he sailed, we spoke giddily about the new urban life I would be starting, the pretty house that would be a far cry from the mousehole I was currently miserable in, the extra time I would have now that I would not have a commute. He made me promise that I would make good use of what he was leaving me, buy a house, travel, have something to show for his life as reflected through my own values and dreams. We made plans for the future even when we knew that we would soon be separated, not knowing when our souls would be reunited.
The last five years have been very difficult for me, the last two easier, since I've embraced my faith. I'm currently in the process of making up for years of money mismanaging and have a plan for getting myself out of debt by 2012 (not including a mortgage) and a looser plan to retire by the time I'm 45. My father's death has brought forth options in 2007 that I thought would not be available until 2010 at the earliest. I plan to make full use of them.
My new life begins April 1st and I am giddily planning for it. Now that I will not be wasting so much time commuting and repairing plumbing (especially since I lost my 24 hour plumbing helpline), I want to go back to the urban lifestyle I had late last century, when I had time for homemaking endeavours and the world still seemed filled with possibilities instead of limitations.
My goals for the next year are simple: to start and keep a housecleaning routine, to cook more, to be more proactive in my faith, to continue paying off debt and build up my savings, to be more frugal, and to travel.
I've always journalled and I'm hoping this blog will serve as a chronicle of my journey.
It was expected and I was blessed to have had the privilege of making my peace with any unresolved issues we had before he left. I was there in his final days, caring and nursing for him, assuring him that it was okay to move on to the next part of his life, to sail to a better and easier place.
He did not have a good life. It was one of limitations, abuse, toil, disillusionment, and bitterness. But the little joys he did have, he savoured. His accomplishment was His Girls, who learned from his lessons and built a richer, happier existence for themselves. When he knew that he would be sailing in short order, he was able to accept this because he would be leaving His Girls enough to build a solid foundation for their lives. He wanted us to truly live, to see and do things, to have a lot of stories to tell him when we met up with him again on our own journey to the next realm.
My father worried about me a lot, living as I did in the middle of nowhere with a long commute to work. He was pleased to learn in his final weeks that I'd finally made the decision to return to The City. During his final lucid hours, three days before he sailed, we spoke giddily about the new urban life I would be starting, the pretty house that would be a far cry from the mousehole I was currently miserable in, the extra time I would have now that I would not have a commute. He made me promise that I would make good use of what he was leaving me, buy a house, travel, have something to show for his life as reflected through my own values and dreams. We made plans for the future even when we knew that we would soon be separated, not knowing when our souls would be reunited.
The last five years have been very difficult for me, the last two easier, since I've embraced my faith. I'm currently in the process of making up for years of money mismanaging and have a plan for getting myself out of debt by 2012 (not including a mortgage) and a looser plan to retire by the time I'm 45. My father's death has brought forth options in 2007 that I thought would not be available until 2010 at the earliest. I plan to make full use of them.
My new life begins April 1st and I am giddily planning for it. Now that I will not be wasting so much time commuting and repairing plumbing (especially since I lost my 24 hour plumbing helpline), I want to go back to the urban lifestyle I had late last century, when I had time for homemaking endeavours and the world still seemed filled with possibilities instead of limitations.
My goals for the next year are simple: to start and keep a housecleaning routine, to cook more, to be more proactive in my faith, to continue paying off debt and build up my savings, to be more frugal, and to travel.
I've always journalled and I'm hoping this blog will serve as a chronicle of my journey.
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