I'm not a Maenad, and never will be

I am not a Maenad, and never will be.

I am a cisgendered, female follower of Dionysos who engages in ecstatic trance with the god, and I commune with him through wine and revelry.  But I am not a Maenad, and there are a number of reasons why.

What Maenads Are

From theoi.com:

called Lenae, Maenades, Thyiades, Mimallones, Clodones, Bassarae or Bassarides, all of whom are represented in works of art as raging with madness or enthusiasm, in vehement motions, their heads thrown backwards, with dishevelled hair, and carrying in their hands thyrsus-staffs (entwined with ivy, and headed with pine-cones), cymbals, swords, or serpents. Sileni, Pans, satyrs, centaurs, and other beings of a like kind, are also the constant companions of the god. (Strab. x. p. 468; Diod. iv. 4. &c.; Catull. 64. 258 ; Athen i. p. 33; Paus. i. 2. § 7.)

Seneca, Oedipus 401 ff (trans. Miller) (Roman tragedy C1st A.D.) :

now midst Cadmean dames has come a maenad [Agaue], the impious comrade of Ogygian Bacchus, with sacred fawn-skins girt about her loins, her hand a light thyrsus brandishing. Their hearts maddened by thee, the matrons have set their hair a-flowing; and at length, after the rending of Pentheus' limbs, the Bacchanals, their bodies now freed from the frenzy, looked on their infamous deed as though they knew it not.

...

 He has subdued the scattered Gelonians; he has wrested their arms form the warrior maidens [i.e. the Amazones]; with downcast face they fell to earth, those Thermodontian hordes, gave up at length their light arrows, and became maenads. Sacred Cithaeron has flowed with the blood of Ophionian slaughter [i.e. of Pentheus]; the Proetides fled to the woods, and Argos, in his stepdame's [Hera's] very presence, paid homage to Bacchus.

What does all this mean?  Simply put, Maenads are female* followers of Dionysos who engage in a type of madness I call (and some others call) Maenadic Frenzy.  That Frenzy involves a few key elements: ecstatic trance (obtained through dance), loosening of the hair (which was worn up), brandishing a thyrsus, sword, cymbals, or serpents, and a type of dance that involves the head "thrown backwards," becoming "disheveled" and "raging with madness."  Attaining this madness is a type of initiatory experience, 

I'm particularly struck by the last quote above, in which the Amazon women become maenads once their weapons are taken from them.  Maenads were the ones who ripped Pentheus to shreds (a process called Sparagmos, which also happened to Dionysos on a few occasions, and also famously happened to Orpheus).  The fury of a warrior, without her weapons, produces a Maenad.  And yes, it's as terrifying as you imagine.

*: This originally referred to cisgendered women, and some say it still does.  Dionysos is a god of the trans* and genderqueer communities, but they have their own mysteries.  I don't hold an opinion one way or the other.  You do you.

What a Maenad is Not

Any female follower of Dionysos.

No, I'm serious.  There's a bad habit I picked up from the internet of referring to any female follower of Dionysos as a Maenad, and it's simply not the case--I didn't even realize it for myself until a few months ago.  There are a number of reasons spiritual, mental, and physical why I will never be a Maenad.  I have watched Maenads dance: the fury, the prowling, raging, madness, the face paint and crazed eyes.  It was both beautiful and horrible, as it should be, but it's a state I will never attain, nor do I want to anymore.

Why?  Well, simply put, it would be mentally bad for me.  I've mentioned before that I have a disorder called Bipolar 2, which involves periodic episodes of hypomania, alternating with severe depression.  Mania, the characteristic symptom of Bipolar 1, is characterized by expansive, elevated mood, delusions and hallucinations, a lack of need for sleep, increase in "goal-directed activity" (being super productive), and a few other symptoms.  Hypomania, the characteristic distinguisher between Bipolar 2 and Depression, is a milder form of that, without the hallucinations and delusions.  The nasty part about hypomania is that, frankly, it feels GREAT... until you realize it's happening.  You see, hypomania, for me, inevitably involves a severe crash afterwards--like coming down from a good high, except instead of returning to normal, you become SEVERELY depressed, even suicidal.  Simply put, my moods are unstable and uncontrollable unless I manage to follow a fairly strict routine.

That's the mental reason.  Physically, I'm incapable of dance, due to a number of factors.  There are other physical "things" too, but that's not why I'm here, writing this.

Spiritually, it's interesting.  I chose the name of this blog, Joyous Madness, originally to represent what I thought of as a Maenadic Frenzy.  I had made it my ultimate goal to attain such a state, not realizing that it would likely not only trigger a mood episode for me, but was not my particular path.  Now, I've come to realize that the blog title is apt, but for a different part of my personal spirituality: the initiator and healer roles, which I fit into a LOT better than any Maenadic hat I've tried on.

You see, my chosen profession is as a mental health therapist.  I chose that track for my career because I have experienced madness: Bipolar 2 is notoriously hard to treat among the spectrum of mentally interesting, and I went through the wringer of medications and therapy until I got stable enough to function as an adult.  I'm 27 and just now finishing school (I'll graduate 2 weeks before I turn 28), having had this as a goal for the last ten years.  A two year program has taken me that long.  So yeah, I'd say I understand that side of the fence.  And I wanted to do for someone what my therapist did for me--if I can do it once, it's worth it.

I've also made a point of developing my personal trance practices. I function best in a state of liminality, of in-between, which makes me pretty uniquely suited towards guiding people to and from those ecstatic states.  I can enter and leave trance as easily as I breathe most of the time, and trance is where I do my best magical and spiritual work.  However, my trance is not dancing, mad trance: it's seated, eyes closed, looking for all the world like I'm taking a nap.  A friend who spotted for me when I did my last experiment with working temporarily as a Neos Dionysos said she could feel the trance coming in waves--and also confirmed for me that the trance was genuine, as my mouth was spouting things my brain had no way of knowing about.  That's what I am, and that's my role: as a tranceworker, as a healer, as a madwoman who knows how to release from madness.

Practically, Maenadic Frenzy is off limits to me.  Even were that not the case, though, spiritually it still wouldn't be a fit.  I have another path, one I was set on by my god, and I couldn't be more blessed to have it.  Maenads and those who experience that Frenzy are savage and beautiful and I could sit and watch for hours their crazed dance--but at the end of the day, I will ring the bells and bring them home, bring them back from that madness.  Not everyone is a Maenad.  Not everyone should be.  And that's perfectly okay.

Non-Maenads, unite!

The rest is all details

There is a conversation I want to have with you, friends.  And it stems from my tumblr fixation.

I wish I were joking about that last part.

I don't post a whole lot on tumblr.  Or anywhere, really.  I prefer to read: to take in, to watch, to wait, to learn.  I'm pretty similar in person a lot of times too--it takes some pushing to get me to interject into debates or conversation, or even to partake in good-natured story telling, which I've discovered a bit of a passion for.

What that means, practically speaking, is that I joined tumblr mostly so I could see pretty pictures.  Most of the folks (if not all the folks) I follow post mostly pagan or polytheist related "stuff"--quotes, discussions, images of altars and paintings of gods.  There is a lot of beauty to be found there, even amidst the typical drama.  And I enjoy it... but.

But I'm tired.

This could be a facet of the nature of my tumblr and internet use in general, but I am overwhelmed.  I see beautiful altars, read writeups of amazing and intense ritual, hear about folks' daily, weekly, monthly, seasonal devotions, with intense trance, divination, elaborate sacrifices, preparations, etc.  I think it's WONDERFUL that we have that kind of devotion happening in our communities.

But friends... I'm tired.  I've been tired for a very, very long time.  My struggles with Bipolar Disorder (type 2) are very real, and very present: my mood tanked in May, I started medication, it helped, but I was taken off of it due to side effects three days before my grandfather died (which I'll be writing about when I'm emotionally capable of doing so).  As you can imagine, the mood got worse.  I'm tired, to my very core.  And those beautiful devotions, those elaborate rituals, just seem... overwhelming, instead of inspiring.  Exhausting, instead of awe-inducing.

The dust on my shrine is a lie: I still do devotions.  I still make offerings.  I still do trancework.  But my devotions are a couple of words when my heart beats faster, my offerings are a blown kiss to a statue, my trance is the shifting between dreams and reality that happens when I wake up and cannot sleep.  This, friends, is what I want to hear about.

Those tiny acts of devotion are not always spurred on by necessity.  They are not always the "best" you have to offer.  I imagine many of us have small acts--a couple of words here, a touch of a fingertip there--that help maintain our relationships with the Kindred, when we are away from the shrine.  And I want you to tell me about them.

Tell me about the way you always incline your head when you pass the State building, because Athena sits perched on its apex.  Tell me about the briefest prayer of thanks to Dionysos when a drop of wine touches your lips.  Tell me about the surge of joy, the remembrance of Zeus, when lightening flashes across the sky--gone in an instant, but enough, for that moment.  Tell me about the simplest acts of devotion in your life.

Devotion, and religion in general, does not have to be elaborate, or expensive, or even lengthy.  There are times in everyone's lives (and for some, it is their whole life) where even three bowls and a stick are too much effort.  And that's 150% okay.

Pomp and circumstance and fancy altars and statues and elaborate poems and hymns are all well and good, but they aren't what makes a religion.  Religion, as I see it, boils down to love: love for the spirits, love for the land, love for the folk around you, and love for yourself.

The rest is all details.

Xenia: An Ancient Concept in a Modern World

Xenia: Guest-friendship, the responsibilities of both guest and host.

It's Saturday night, mid-January, and your friends just went home after a long evening of board games and beer.  You and your dog are quite ready to settle in for a long winter's nap--the temperatures have been dangerously cold, and even in your nicely insulated house, you can feel cold drafts coming from the windows.  It chills you, and you grab an extra blanket and bump the thermostat up a notch on your way to bed.

Settling in with a book, your daydreaming is suddenly interrupted by a knock at the door.

It's midnight, you think.  Did someone forget something?  Shit, I should check, if Dan forgot his phone again his girlfriend will give him hell.

You open the door to a sight you never expected.  A man stands before you.  He is skinny, "gaunt" as the old poets would say.  His thin jacket is tattered and dirty, his jeans have holes in the knees.  His shoes may have once been white--now, they are black with dirt, and you'd guess they are worn smooth on the bottom, many years past their usefulness.

What startles you most is the man's face.  His eyes are wide, desperate, pleading.  His cheeks are hollow, the stubble on them uneven, as if his last shave had been without a mirror... or even a razor.  His lips are tinged blue, and the rattling of his teeth is audible.

The man falls to his knees and clutches at your fleece pants.  "Please," he begs.  "It's so cold.  So cold."

Startled, you take a step back.  "What do you want?"

"Just a snack, a couch.  It's freezing out here.  Just one night, I promise, and then I'm gone.  Nothing is open, no one will take me."

What do you do?

This is a familiar story to those versed in Hellenic mythology.  Baucis and Philemon took in Zeus and Hermes, disguised as weary, poor travelers, and were amply rewarded, while the rest of the town was destroyed (or had some such catastrophe, depending on who's telling the story) for refusing to exercise Xenia.

Have the gods' expectations of us changed?  Does the presence, or absence, of a shelter, a hotel, a 24-hour McDonald's absolve us of responsibility to take in those who seek our aid?

What do you think?

Fundraising for the community

So, Sannion is trying to do some fundraising to allow people to attend Many Gods West.  The folks in question are travelling to help host a Dionysian ritual out there, cause there's no way Sannion can do it himself.  He's got a lot of cool stuff he's offering for donations, but I wanted to throw something in a little cheaper and see if I can give back to my community some.

So, for every $13 donation he receives (the details are in the link above), I'm offering a three-draw reading from the Greek Alphabet oracle.  Just include your email address with the donation you make to Sannion, and he'll forward the information to me, so I can contact you and do the reading.

I'm asking for these particular donations to be exactly $13 (13 is my number), primarily because he's offering more in-depth divination for larger donations, but I know not everyone has $35+ they can donate.

Remember your community!

What is a leader?

WARNING: This is gonna be long.  Reeeeeally long.  Like, I've been writing for two weeks and haven't exhausted my thoughts long.  TL;DR: Yay leadership!

Sannion recently posted an article addressing an aspect of the recent talk of leadership that is sorely missing from polytheist and pagan conversations about leadership.  Namely... what makes a leader?  Specifically, he asked:

What makes a good leader? Is this primarily a religious or social role, and what’s involved in it? Specifically what tasks should leaders be performing? What special qualifications should a leader have? What ethical and other considerations are involved in the role? What kind of power and authority should we invest our leaders with and to what ends? How should leaders be appointed and more importantly removed from office? Are leaders accountable to their people and if so in what areas? Do we even need leaders?

I wanted to take the time to actually respond to this in full, instead of giving some canned answer out of a textbook or workshop.

Ironically, the dictionary definition of "leader" isn't exactly helpful (from Miriam Webster's English Dictionary):

• a person who leads

(The first definition actually referred to plants, believe it or not: the initial or terminal shoot of a plant, which might be more relevant than anything else, since... y'know... pagan.)

All right, well, let's look at "to lead":

• a :  to guide on a way especially by going in advance
  b :  to direct on a course or in a direction
  c :  to serve as a channel for <a pipe leads water to the house>

 Still better, but not as specifically applicable as the discussion needs to be.

 So maybe one of the first discussions we should have is WHY someone should be a leader.  Why should someone lead?  Why should someone not lead?  I'm not talking about qualifications, either: I'm talking about motivations.  What are some good motivations, and some bad motivations?

I was fortunate enough a couple of weeks ago to go to a professional conference where we discussed qualities of leadership and ways of becoming a leader.  This particular organization is professional, not religious, in nature, but a lot of the discussion around motivations for, and against, leadership.  So I want to touch on a few of those motivations here:

Why should someone be a leader?

• To further the goals of the organization
• To bring outreach on behalf of the organization at a higher level
• To give back to a community which has given to them, donating time and money for the cause
• To use the title to advocate for the community and the folks the community serves in the public sphere, influencing legislation and other areas where the community as a whole is impacted

Why should someone NOT be a leader?

• For the sense of power or prestige
• For the money
• To gain followers or to force personal ideas at an organizational level

This isn't a comprehensive list, by any means, but a few key patterns can be seen:

A good leader is someone who gives of themselves for the betterment of the community.

A bad "leader" is someone who takes of the community for the enforcement of their ideals.

Again, this isn't a COMPREHENSIVE definition, by any means, just a theme I've noticed in my own personal discussions regarding leadership (I should mention, as well, that this particular organization, as a professional one, is democratic in nature, with all offices elected at a local or national level).

So wrapping back around to Sannion's original question: What makes a good leader?  A good leader is someone who gives and leads by example, who advocates for real changes and makes a difference in their community based on the community's needs.

I would even go so far as to argue that leaders don't need to be recognized with titles or positions to BE leaders.  I can think, within my own communities, of at least ten individuals who have no special title, but whom I consider to be leaders because of their example.  A friend of mine has amazing personal devotion, and a wonderful ability to critically self-examine while maintaining self-love.  This friend has no title, has completed no study programs (yet), has no national recognition... but I still consider her a leader, because her example inspires our community towards devotion and piety.

This view makes the rest of Sannion's questions exceedingly difficult to answer, because the answers are going to change depending on the organization or community.  So I'm going to try and tackle this from a personal view of society as a whole, and again: PERSONAL view here.

So, question two: is this a primarily religious or social role, and what's involved in it?

Ask three groups of pagans that question, and you're going to get 16 different answers.  Seriously.

Here, in my own life, are two distinctly different answers, based on views of two distinctly different communities: ADF is headed by the Mother Grove, which is elected, but also has ordained clergy, who serve as spiritual leaders for the community, and have undergone special training to be such. I would define ADF's clergy as primarily religious, not social leaders, but I would define the Mother Grove the opposite way: as primarily social, not religious.  The difference to me is more about function than anything else.  A large number of current and past members of ADF's mother grove are clergy, and as such, fill both roles, but not everyone does.  But the Mother Grove tends to deal with bylaws, money, and technology, whereas clergy tend to be ritually-based at their core.

The Thiasos, on the other hand, is run by five folks who fell into that position by accident, and are still trying to figure out where we're going and what we're doing.  Right now, the leadership is organizing calendars, chats, and encouraging discussion between members, but have not defined any dogma or anything of a religious nature FOR anyone but themselves (with one notable difference, the idea of animal sacrifice, which was touched on in a previous post), and the community as a whole doesn't even HAVE a predetermined ritual structure, or a current need for things like weddings or funerals which may require an officiant.  Eventually, the Thiasos may have clergy.  The Thiasos may have initiates.  Maybe not--maybe it will remain a social group, focused on learning and teaching one another without any kind of deeper involvement.  Time will tell--ADF has had 30 years to figure this out, the Thiasos has had... one.  One year.  We're getting there.

So, the social versus religious leader is a tricky subject, and depends on organization.  I don't think there's a SINGLE correct definition--there are as many definitions as their are gods (see what I did there?).  For the rest of the questions then, I'm going to stick to Sannion's words: social leaders, and religious leaders.

So the next few questions deal with tasks and qualifications.

Again, this is going to be defined by the community served, so I'm going to be pretty general.  I would say that the primary tasks of social leaders deal with community management and involvement.  Dispute resolution, organizational structure, logistics and planning, communications, advocacy and social justice, etc.  Religious leaders, on the other hand, are responsible for the religious and spiritual well-being of the community.  This is going to take different forms depending on the community, but for me, my religious leaders do such things as lead rites, officiate at weddings, funerals, etc., make a point of inquiring as to the spiritual well-being of individuals in the community, and make offerings and pray on behalf of the community.  Again, there can be a lot of overlap between social and religious leaders, so I think the difference falls into where the RESPONSIBILITY lays.  If the person in charge of managing a group's money is AMAZING at personal devotion, is incredibly caring and kind, looks out for members spiritually, but never bothers to check the bank account balance... then they are a poor social leader, and are not fulfilling their responsibilities.  That doesn't make them a bad person, or a poor leader in general, just maybe they're not in the RIGHT leadership role for their style.

Qualifications are a little more clear-cut for me.  Social leaders need to have social skills: the person in charge of money needs to be able to understand budgeting and tax law, for example.  The person in charge of social media management should probably use social media regularly, and have knowledge of various platforms.  Can someone be a social leader without an actual position title?  Absolutely, but they're still performing the same sorts of tasks: communicating with everyone, volunteering time and money/services, checking in on quiet or withdrawn members to ensure all voices are heard.  A title isn't necessary to lead in that sphere.

Religious leaders' qualifications, then, start with a personal religious devotion.  If you cannot maintain your own devotion and piety, then you cannot maintain group devotion and piety, period (hence why I'm not personally cut out to be any form of religious leader).  Beyond that, I would LIKE to see religious leaders go through pretty rigorous training before they are recognized publicly as such: either self-lead training, or the completion of pre-approved study programs (like seminary type education, tailored for polytheists and pagans).  I'm trying to intentionally avoid using words like "clergy" and "priests/priestesses" here, because those terms are very weighted based on the background of the individuals reading them.

The most important, and only universal, qualifier of what makes a leader is this: that your community recognizes you as one.  The term leader implies the "followers" correlate: if no one follows, one cannot lead, if no one leads, one cannot follow.  This is not to imply that non-leaders are all sheep lead to the slaughter; by NO means should anyone reading this take that away from what I'm seeing.  But in order to be a leader, at least some segment of your community must recognize you as one.

Next up: Ethics.

Hoo boy.  Guys, I'm a counselor trainee.  We have a 23-PAGE long code of ethics we are required to follow in our practice.  We have to have months of training during school, and continued training each year after we graduate to maintain our license.  Ethics is NOT AN EASY SUBJECT TO DISCUSS.  So you know what?  I'm saving that for later.  Sorry, but this post is long enough as it is.

MOVING ON... power and authority, appointing and removing leaders, and accountability.

Again, specific procedures are going to be determined by the community, what we would call "stakeholders."  Not touching on specifics.

As far as power and authority, this is where I feel a community can turn into a cult (and I mean that in the Americanized, modern way, which is to imply a dangerous and controlling community).  How do you know if you're in a cult?  Well, Isaac Bonewits came up with one way.  And yes, a lot of it has to do with power.  If your personal power to do what you wish is EVER taken away by a leader, then that leader has too much power.  Now, I don't mean that anyone can do what they want at any time, and still say "I'm with this group."  I mean, if your ability to LEAVE the group is taken away... then you should leave the group.  Seek help, seek shelter, GET THE FUCK OUT (pardon my French).  Communities can define their own rules for what is acceptable behavior, though, and anyone failing to conform to that behavior has, by definition, distanced themselves from the community (the Thiasos ran into this with animal sacrifice: you cannot be part of this particular religious group if you're not okay with animal sacrifice being done humanely and on behalf of everyone in the group, including you.  That doesn't mean you can't worship Dionysos, or call yourself an Orphic, you just can't claim to be a member of the Thiasos of the Starry Bull, sort of like how someone who hasn't done ADF's clergy training and isn't even a member of ADF according to ADF's rules can't call themselves an ADF priest).

Appointing and removing leaders: see above.  Personally, I think social leaders, board members, etc. should be democractically elected, and the eligibility of sanctioned religious leaders should be determined by a set of bylaws applied across the board to everyone who wishes to be a sanctioned religious leader.  But that's just me.

Accountability though... are leaders accountable to their followers?  Abso-fucking-lutely.  A leader is not made of their own power.  See above: you cannot be a leader if your community does not recognize you as such.  Period.  Leaders are MADE by the community, and are accountable in that the community has the power to remove the mantle of leadership FROM the person, in a number of ways (officially, or by mass exodus, if for some reason the "rules" don't allow for the removal of a leader who is not fulfilling their duties or has committed a gross wrongdoing to the community).

So, now that I've talked too much, the last question of the night.

Do we need leaders?

Even if the answer to that question is no, we will still have them.  We will always have folks who act when others do not.  We will always have folks who go above and beyond in giving to their community.  We will always have folks who advocate for growth and exploration, when others are okay with maintaining the status quo.  We will always have folks whose personal devotion extends to devotion on behalf of their community.  We will never stop that, even if we wanted to, even if we refuse to hand out titles and have official ceremonies.  Any time there is a gap, any time there is a need, someone will step up and fill that need.  In that moment, the person is a leader, as ther est of the community watches them fill that need.

Do we need titles and ceremony and garb?  To each their own.  I like having that, especially in larger organizations, because it allows me a way of knowing that a person has been vetted, even if I don't know them personally, and I will afford them a measure of trust because they HAVE been vetted by the community.  I like it.  I value it.  I might even say I need it, because without those leaders, I don't think my communities would grow and thrive the way they have been.

I can't answer that question for anyone but myself.  And my answer is yes: I need leaders in my community, at least my primary religious community.  Not to tell me what to do, but to do the things I cannot, or would not, or should not. 

 

From chaos, peace.

It's been nearly three months since I posted anything.  Life is kicking my ass, guys.

Virtually everything spiritually and mentally important to me has been put on hold in favor of the mundane.  Classes, work, and now a practicum have taken so much of my time, sapped so much of my energy, that I don't remember when I last cooked a meal for myself, or when I last did a devotion that wasn't tied to a holiday or some sort of special event where someone outside my own head was reminding me to do it.

And that, my friends, is NOT GOOD for me.

My schedule is down to the minute.  I schedule class, work, and practicum hours.  I schedule driving.  I schedule sleep and showers and trips to the pharmacy.  I even schedule my sex life, which is WEIRD if your partner isn't on the same time crunch as you.   "Sorry honey, we're going to have to make this quick, I have a paper to write."

It's driving me up a wall, in all honesty.  It's not even that there aren't enough hours in the week, it's that everything I need to get done has to be done within the standard business hours (8-5, Monday through Friday), aside from homework, which I dedicate most or all of my weekend to.  And this means that the things I never schedule, like devotions, trancework, and religious study, are all fallen to the wayside.

I even have a list of stuff on hiatus that I need to do, but don't have in my schedule:

1. ADF's Initiate's Program.  I stalled on this one back in December, with a visit to family, and it just hasn't picked back up again.  I'm EXCEEDINGLY grateful for the online component, though, because when I DO pick it back up, I'll be able to at least have a sense of what I need to be working on, and when I should be working on it.
2. Thiasos holidays and other assorted "stuff."  I've not really been doing my part on keeping the group up and running (which is why I'm even MORE grateful for the other four of y'all than I already was).
3. Prepare for the workshop proposal I submitted on ritual intoxication.
4. Meditate, or better yet, regular trancework.
5. Going along with #4, in part, is taking time to just... chill, and pray.  To sit with my gods and talk to them, keep them in the loop on all this crap that's been happening.

My boyfriend finally put his foot down tonight, when I was teetering on the edge of a panic attack, and forced me to go and take a bath.  I wasn't allowed to come out for at least half an hour, he said.  Gods bless him.

I remembered, laying there in the water, what life was like for me a few years ago.  Not as busy, but still as structured.  I lost my mind, in a very literal sense, to rigidity.  I fell into the trenches of bipolar disorder, lost in madness I couldn't control, because I tried to control too much.  I had to learn to let go, to go with the flow, to accept and adapt, to keep from being lost again.

Dionysos did that for me.  He taught me to embrace the uncertainty, to move like a dancer through the ups and downs of my own mind, to hear the rhythm of the music in my soul and play to the drum instead of trying to change the beat.  He restored my sanity by teaching me to embrace madness.

See where this is going?

I'm doing it to myself again.  I'm trying to control too much.  Trying to fit everything into tidy, neat little boxes, everything in its proper place.  And when one of those boxes gets tipped over, or the contents are not what I expected, the entire system falls apart.

Better to be rid of the boxes, I think.

This isn't a set of resolutions.  I'm going to screw this up again.  Things are going to be chaotic, I'm going to panic or become depressed, I'm going to neglect myself more than I should.  It'll happen.  But for now... I'm going to talk to Dionysos.  I'm going to ask for him to step into the role he has always played in my life, and free me from burdens I can't bear on my own.  I'm going to tell him everything I've never admitted to anyone: that for all my outward successes, I still feel like I am failing, and the world is running away without me.

I'm going to go pray.

A reflection on an experiment

Saturday night was an exercise in preparedness for me, and it's one I failed.  Not for the reasons I expected, but... more on that later.

A friend of mine has been hosting full moon rites honoring each of the Olympians (with Hestia being honored during those odd years where there are 13 full moons).  She uses Hellenion's libation calendar, which means the full moon for Dionysos fell on December 6th.  Normally, I can't make the drive for those rites, as it's about a two hour drive for me, but December 6th was a Saturday... and this is Dionysos... hell yes, I went.  Not only did I go: I led the working for this particular rite, a liberation working and type of oracular horsing.

The idea behind the working was fairly simple in thought, but not quite in execution: When the working began, I secluded myself in a room with certain symbols of the underworld Dionysos, and brought myself into trance.  Within the trance, I completely opened myself to Dionysos, my body and my mind, to let him take over--something I've done before, willingly and joyfully, but never with others present.  At the same time, in the other room, the participants were also entering a light trance, preparing to journey to the underworld.  Once they reached me, they offered a stone they had been given at the ritual's beginning, symbolic of something they wished to be RID of.  The idea, then, was to present the worst in your heart to Dionysos, and ask him for freedom.  He would then use me to say whatever needed to be said to the participant, who would return to the upper world, rid of their cares, wash with khernips, and the next participant would come in.

The main purpose of doing this this way was twofold: to see if I COULD trance like that for a group of people, and for my friend to see me IN that kind of trance state so she can spot for me if and when heavy trance is needed in my life.  A kind of spiritual precaution, if you will.

There were four participants, plus me.

I was not prepared.

I don't remember a single word said to me or by me, only vague visions of Hera and a few other trance images.

I was not prepared.

I REALLY didn't think through the implications of this quite enough.

The little feedback I've gotten so far seems to be mostly positive--it worked, so far as I can tell, for the participants.  Somehow, though, I miscalculated what this would mean for me.  I was so wrapped up in thoughts of whether or not I could sustain trance that heavy without getting tired before we were done that I failed to consider what would happen to me AFTER the rite and into the coming days.

Four participants, giving the worst of what is in their heart to Dionysos.  Me, horsed by Dionysos, accepting those offerings on his behalf, letting him use me to speak.

I failed to consider that I was accepting the struggles of four very strong, very passionate, very spiritual people into myself.  I can be an idiot sometimes, you know?

Sunday, I was mostly distracted by the realities of life.  Sunday night was another story.  I felt off, I felt wrong, I felt heavy.  That heaviness continued into Monday night, when I lay in bed alone, and simply... cried.  The weight was too much.  I called to Dionysos, asked him what was happening.

"You didn't know you were asking for this, but you asked for it."

I thought of the four small black stones, sitting wrapped in cloth on my altar, waiting to be purified and cast out.  I thought of the emotional and spiritual energy I had opened myself to.  No amount of khernips can clean something you willingly take into yourself, not of that magnitude.  The weight of the hearts of four strong individuals is something I simply cannot bear.

I asked him what I should do.  "Understand.  Carry the weight, and when the weight is gone, carry the memory of the weight.  Lesson learned."

The stones and the weight will stay with me until Saturday.  Saturday, I will cleanse them and cast them out, leaving only the memory of the weight in my heart.

I will not do this for a group again.  I will come up with another kind of ritual for Summerlands next year, but I will not do this for a group again.  I may, on occasion, do this for a close friend who is in desperate need of healing--Dionysos has taken my burdens from me in the past, so I should continue to pass that blessing onto others.  One at a time, though.  I cannot handle more.  I don't WANT to handle more.

I am sorry, my friends, that I failed you.  I am sorry, Dionysos, that my hubris blinded me from reason.  Lesson learned.

My first Thyrsus is finished, at last

Let me just start off by saying I MEANT to go see Mockingjay tonight.  I drove to a restaurant near the theater for dinner, left just in time to get tickets, and then... an itch, like I can't describe.  Not a physical itch.  A spiritual itch.  Like Dionysos tickling my soul's feet with a feather, driving me crazier by the minute. I skipped the theater and drove home.

The thyrsus has been about two months in progress.  I acquired the base staff a few months ago, but only about two months ago did I bring it to my dad's shop to start actually preparing it.  He helped me sand it, stain it, apply polyurethane to the shaft and the cone, and attach the cone.  I then brought it home, and promptly procrastinated attaching the ribbons and actually blessing the thing.  I guess Dionysos got impatient, because that happened tonight.

The ritual was a fairly standard ritual, with the exception of the actual working.  For the working, I poured a glass of wine, calling upon it as the blood of Dionysos.  I then cut my own finger just deeply enough to get a few drops of blood from it, and mixed those with the wine.  That mixture was then used to coat and bless the thyrsus, with a prayer that I wrote:

I call to the rushing Bull God.
I call to the Thrice Born.
I call to the Giver of Madness.
Let he who leads the throngs become Dionysos.
Bestow your blessings upon this staff, upon this cone, upon this thyrsus.

Mighty Zagreus!
By your blood and mine, let the bearer of this, your thyrsus, know the paths through the underworld.
Mighty Zagreus!
By your blood and mine, let the bearer of this, your thyrsus, know sparagmos and rebirth.
Mighty Zagreus:
By your blood and mine, let the bearer of this, your thyrsus, know the fires and lightening of the heavens.

Mighty Bromios!
By your blood and mine, let the bearer of this, your thyrsus, know the freedom of childhood.
Mighty Bromios!
By your blood and mine, let the bearer of this, your thyrsus, know the love of and for Semele and Ariadne.
Mighty Bromios!
By your blood and mine, let the bearer of this, your thyrsus, know the paths through the underworld and to Olympus, sharing with you your godhood.

Mighty Iakchos!
By your blood and mine, let the bearer of this, your thyrsus, follow the torches upon the initiate's path.
Mighty Iakchos!
By your blood and mine, let the bearer of this, your thyrsus, gaze deep into the mask without fear.
Mighty Iakchos!
By your blood and mine, let the bearer of this, your thyrsus, know the mysteries you have given.

Dionysos, Zagreus, Bromios, Iakchos!
Bestow your magic upon this thyrsus.
Bestow your blessing upon this thyrsus.
Bestow your power upon this thyrsus.

Let the bearer of this become Dionysos--
     See with your eyes,
     Speak with your voice,
     Hear with your ears,
     Know with your mind.

Let the bearer of this work your wonders in the world.
By your blood spilled, by my blood mingled--
ESTO!

Nine times was the wine/blood mixture rubbed into the staff--three times for Zagreus, three times for Bromios, three times for Iakchos.  I then stood with the thyrsus in hand for... who knows how long (my cat started mewling pitifully from the bathroom in which he was locked to prevent him from chasing the ribbons).  Closed the rite, put a bandaid on my finger, and took a picture of the staff.

The offering I gave to Dionysos this time was some of the Orphic incense powder formulated for use by the Thiasos of the Starry Bull.  And when the seller says a little goes a long way... she means it.  I did not have charcoal, so I formed a small mound (half an inch high and about an inch around) and lit the top.  It's still burning an hour later, and my entire apartment smells wonderfully heady and rich.

I very rarely work any kind of... magic, outside from that involved in opening and closing the gates.  I blessed some wine for friends a few months ago, and I bless my own ritual tools, but that's about it.  This particular working was... distinctly powerful.  The only part that made me nervous was cutting my own finger--it proved to be difficult, as the knife was apparently not very sharp.  I never use my own blood in other rituals, though, so I'm not too worried about finding a better way to do that.

All in all, though, I'd say it was an exceedingly successful rite.  Now let's see what kind of mischief I can get up to...

Dr. Strangegod, or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My God.

So as some of you may have noticed, there's been a lot of talk about animal sacrifice the last few days.  And I've spent most of that few days reading, doing divination, and talking to Sannion (amongst others) about it.

Most of those conversations have been calm, respectful, and polite.  It's a hot issue, and not one to be taken lightly--no matter what side of the coin you stand on, I think we can ALL agree that this isn't something to be flip about.  For the last few days, my coin has been precariously balanced on its edge, not falling to one side or another, until it fell over last night in the wee hours of the morning, as I sat on the couch with my cat, unable to sleep for the worry that was clutching at me.

When the topic was first broached in Thursday's Thiasos chat, everyone seemed pretty much okay with it.  No complaints, just a few questions.  I didn't say anything right away, but here's what was happening on my side of the screen: jaw slack, stomach threatening to return my dinner, hands shaking and sweaty.  I didn't say any of that at the time--what I said (to my recollection) was something along the lines of, "I'm going to have to think long and hard about that before I decide if I'm okay with it."  And the reaction was... positive.  Sannion asked me to voice my objections, if I felt comfortable with it, and some of them I could voice (how is the animal treated, etc.), but some were simply gut reactions that I didn't understand myself.

I was a vegetarian for 11 months in college.  That probably would have lasted longer if I'd had options other than tater tots and whatever "fruit" the cafeteria was serving that day.  Towards the end of those months, I had a series of long talks over the phone with my dad, who happens to have a degree in Poultry Science (and, consequently, worked at a feed mill/slaughterhouse for chickens for a number of years before he joined the military).  He explained to me the mechanics of slaughter.  I read the science and looked into my own misconceptions about the biology behind pain, consciousness, and our own evolutionary progress as related to our digestion.  And I came to the conclusion that yeah, a LOT of what we're eating is CRAP, and we really do need to be more careful about what we ingest and how we treat the animals (and plants!) that we consume, but there's nothing intrinsically WRONG with eating meat.  I had a hot dog yesterday.  It was delicious.

So, towards the end of the chat (I think it got removed per my request, but I didn't check the log), I asked if anyone would do divination for me, as I was uneasy and unsure of my future of the thiasos.  I got two responses that night, both of which emphasized the need to think about my ancestry--and to think about how my family would feel about the slaughter of animals.  Now, my family isn't pagan, by a long shot--they hate that part of me. But they are, for the most part, farmers: pig farmers, chicken farmers, I think there are a few cow farmers somewhere in there.  Both sides of my family.  It's not strange, for my grandparents, for my cousins who did 4H, for any of my family to think "Dinner's in a few hours, I should go grab a chicken" and have that chicken still be alive while they're thinking that thought.  It's just a non-issue.  It was a part of life.  I've heard arguments that "we don't need to kill for our food anymore," but... that's not entirely true.  For the chicken farmer who only has his chickens, it's a lot of times cheaper and easier to kill a couple chickens to feed your 12 children (as was the case for BOTH my dad's parents) than it was to go out and BUY someone else's produce.  And if you traded your chickens FOR that produce, it was with the full knowledge that those chickens were going to be eaten.

Now, I'm not going to sit here and go one by one through the arguments I've seen presented, on either side of the coin.  I'm not interested in arguments, and I don't have the emotional capacity for that kind of stress.  When my facebook thread started getting heated, I deleted it.  I just don't have it in me to even watch those arguments at the moment.  There are only three things I'm going to address directly: my own divination, the topic of human sacrifice (and where I agree with the Anomalous Thracian on that), and where I stand now.

Divination

I use the Greek Alphabet oracle for divination purposes.  I know a lot of the Thiastai use dice rolls and long lists of phrases (a lot of them coined by Sannion), but I like the Greek Alphabet--For one, I can carry it in my pocket, and it's easier to remember.  It is, however, harder to interpret, even more so when you're doing it for yourself and you're terrified of the answer.  So, I asked four questions, and pulled four answers:

What will be my role within the Thiasos?
-Omicron: There are no crops to be reaped which were not sown.
-Interpreted: Put in the work to get the result.  Standing on the sidelines will merit you nothing, sowing the crops will feed and nourish you and your family.

What is the nature of the sacrifice desired by me?
-Zeta: Flee the great storm, lest you be disabled in some way.
-Interpreted: Zeta is the symbol of Zeus.  Zeus scares the everloving shit out of me (as do Poseidon and Hades, for that matter).  But this symbol, in this particular reading, read as more of a "let go of that which no longer serves you" than anything else.  In this case, given the mindset and the prayers from before the start of the divination, I believe this to be a caution against preconceptions.

Should I receive the benefits of a sacrificial animal?
-Theta: You have the helping gods of this path.
-Interpretation: "Hon, you're worrying too much.  We've got this."  This was the symbol that inspired the punful title of the post, actually.  It's been coming up a lot for me lately, and almost always with a strong connection to Dionysos himself.  A similar reading came from one of the aforementioned divinations from another Thiasos member: "Dionysos won't get angry at you whatever you choose.  In fact, your free choice is preferred."

Should I continue the work I am doing within the Thiasos of the Starry Bull?
-Alpha: The God (Apollo) says you will do everything successfully.
-Interpretation: "Hon.  WE'VE GOT THIS."  Alpha is one of the few universally positive symbols within the set.  As a friend of mine stated in one of her interpretations, "Stop second guessing yourself and just act already."

Human Sacrifice

Did it happen in the past?  Yes.  Even if there's some question about the Gauls (given that the only cases of it happening there were written by their enemies, Julius Caesar in particular), there's no question that it happened amongst the Greeks, PARTICULARLY the Bacchic cults.  You can't read 3 (thousand) stories about maenads dismembering someone and not recognize that it is a tradition strongly rooted in blood--even if you don't take the myths literally, which I don't, people still died.  It happened.  Dionysos himself was dismembered on at least one occasion, and died more times than I can count.  He's not all wine and sex and wild parties, and to characterize him in that manner is either ignorance of myth (which is certainly excuseable, especially if you're new to this whole thing) or WILLFUL ignorance (which in my book really ISN'T that excuseable).  Does he call everyone to blood and gore?  Of course not.  We're not all formed from the same mold, and we're not all given the same gifts.  Calling everyone to the same path religiously is like telling every artist they have to be a banker--some of them might have side skills they can use for it, but most of them are going to be uncomfortable with it.  And that's perfectly okay.

The main question for me is this: do the gods still require or request human sacrifice?  Short answer... no.  Long answer... kinda.  The Anomalous Thracian commented on Sannion's post about the matter with something I'm just going to quote verbatim:

"If the gods required human sacrifice of us today, as they did lawfully call for in the past, they would have ensured that we had the priests and paradigms to see these things returned. They have not, nor does it seem that is is likely to change anytime soon. We literally don’t have priests for those rituals, even if we had the rituals themselves required of us. And, as is ALWAYS stated on the subject of sacrifice, it is better to not do something at all than to do it wrongly, unjustly, without skill or training or lawful place. And the reality is, we simply do not have that job or role any longer in any tradition that I know of in Polytheist religion, today."

Do the gods require human sacrifice?  No.  Do they request it?  Sometimes.  Does it involve someone standing over an unwilling victim holding a knife and chanting in some dead language?  HELL no.  A lot of what Sannion has addressed is the idea of consent--an animal is not sacrificed if it doesn't consent, end of story.  Because we don't speak the languages of these animals, we use divination and body language to determine that consent.  With humans, though, consent is different--we know our own consciousness, and I firmly believe that the ONLY person who can or should give your life for the gods is YOU, and ONLY as a last resort, when you have been psychologically evaluated and determined to be of sound mind.  Sannion gave a 99.5% probability of that not ever happening--I'd give it more of a 99.999999999999999999999999% probability of not happening.

I will never, ever, willingly take the life of another human being.  I know this.  My gods know this.  If they ask me to do so, even if the person is willing, even then... I will tell them no.  The only god I'm close enough to who would even get away with asking that sort of thing in jest is Dionysos, and like Markos said, he pushes your boundaries... but doesn't go past them, so long as you set them.

If, in some break with reality, Sannion or whoever is Archiboukolos states that we, as a Thiasos, need to accept or participate in the sacrifice of another human being, I will challenge him, per his own rules, for authority over the Thiasos.  Failing that, I will leave.  End of story.  As the omens said... my choice is my choice, and it is preferred for my path that I follow my own choice.  That may sound extreme, but this is one area where I won't compromise.   If someone gives their life in service to the gods (either intentionally, walking into a situation where they know they will likely die, or as part of performing some sort of service whereby they are accidentally killed), then I will respect and honor them as a martyr.  But I will not knowingly cause their death.

What next?

My fears have been allayed.  A combination of knowledge of the ritual itself (specifically, how the animal is killed, how the divination is done to determine consent, and the level of involvement I need to personally take) and my own divination has shown me that my choice and my gut are paramount for me, personally.

I choose to stay.  I choose to receive the benefits of a humane animal sacrifice, though I have determined that I will never be the one performing the sacrifice.  And not only do I choose to stay, I choose to progress: not on the sidelines, but as an active participant in a growing tradition. I could not be happier or more proud to be part of a tradition where disagreement is treated with respect, where I need not be afraid to say, "I'm feeling something weird about this and I don't know why."  I could not be more blessed to have a space wherein I can examine my own preconceptions and let go of those that no longer serve me.  And whatever my specific calling may be, whatever gifts I have that can be used, I will give those, freely, as my choice offering to the gods, and to the community.

That is my sacrifice.

The afterlife

So I've been struggling with the concept of the afterlife.

Part of this is because I'm a weird mix of recon and neopagan, particularly regarding my worship of Dionysos.  Obviously, I'm not tearing people apart with my bare hands, but a lot of what's going on in the Thiasos is a combination of scholarship (regarding the Orphics, mostly) and shared gnosis.  ADF, on the other hand, is not an explicitly Greek organization, and doesn't in any way dictate belief, so I haven't seen or heard much regarding the concept of the afterlife from that end.

I'm trying to determine my own belief, honestly.  What do *I* think happens when we die?  The starting question, for me, is this: is the afterlife permanent?

The ancient Greeks seemed to view the afterlife as a permanent destination, and if you were one of the mindless shades, it wasn't a particularly pleasant one (not necessarily unpleasant, but not exactly feasts and flowers).  The initiates of the Eleusinian and Orphic mysteries, though, seemed to believe (from what I can tell, I'm not exactly well-versed) that they were, by right of their initiation, destined for and afterlife that WAS pleasant--the fields, or the feasts of Bacchus.  Then there's the concept of Tartarus, which I'm not even going to touch.

Most Neopagans I've met, on the other hand, seem to be inclined toward belief in reincarnation, and this has been my inclination as well.  My logic is that we, to a certain extent, choose our next incarnation, based on an experience we have not yet had that the next life is promised to give us.  This doesn't mean we know all circumstances of that life before we choose it, simply that we have decided "I don't know what it's like to be a female salmon" and so, we are then incarnated as a female salmon.  Once we have experienced all we desire to experience, then we stop incarnating, and migrate more into the realm of the gods than the ancestors.  None of that is based on anything other than my own experience and mind, though, so who knows how accurate it is.

The struggle I'm facing, at least now, is the idea of initiation into any kind of Bacchic mystery.  While the promise of feasting and pleasantry is an appealing one, I am... slightly disturbed by the notion that that kind of afterlife is only available to initiates.  I would want to see my family, my dog, my cat.  Should I have a child who follows Odin and dies in battle, would I never know that child in Valhalla?  Or my Christian family, who would spend eternity at the side of their god?  Am I trapped in that Dionysian revelry, with only other Dionysians as company?  I have no doubt I'd have fun, but I feel like there would be something missing.

I had the thought, as I was puzzling this through last night, that spirit may work differently than physical, in the sense that we don't need to be in only one place at one time once we are no longer constrained by physical reality.  The gods, after all, can manifest parts of themselves in more than one place at once, certainly.  What's to say we can't, as well?  But I also don't want to risk the hubris of assuming I will become like a god when I die.

As well, if reincarnation happens, what determines entrance into those exclusive clubs?  If I am an initiate now, does that give me the key card that will let me in and out, like a membership card?  How does that even work?

My thoughts are all kinds of messy right now.

He's been calling for a long time.

I had to wait at the dealership for about two and a half hours today for my car to get fixed.  While doing so, I spent some time with a few books regarding everyone's favorite mad god, and pondering His holy symbols.  And you know what?  I think he's been calling me for a long time.  I was just too bull-headed myself to listen.  Brief summary...

-Above the main entry/exit of every house we've lived in, my parents (Christians) have hung a carved mask of a bearded man with ivy woven through his hair.
-High school mascot was a panther.
-Childhood friend once told me I was a Leopard, and the nickname stuck for a while.
-Childhood fascination with sculpting masks.
-The series of pitchers sitting in every kitchen at every house my parents have lived in, shaped like roosters.
-The Labyrinth at OSU, where I most strongly felt the pull of polytheism for the first time.
-Alternating fear and fascination with snakes (how many people with a serpentine phobia can enter trance by handling snakes?)
-Grapes follow me everywhere.  No, seriously.  And Ivy.  I remember watching Ivy being pulled off an old building as a child, and weeping for hours for the lost beauty, the insanity of removing such a wonderful plant.  My mother thought I was insane.
-Pines and evergreens are kinda my thing.
-Caves.  I didn't know Dionysos was associated with caves, yet I've always met him in one.

I think Dionysos has been stalking me.  Y'know?  I'm pretty okay with that.

On a different note, Sannion recently put out a call for members of the Thiasos to submit poetry, altar images, prayers, etc. to be posted on the group's website.  I sent him one of mine already, but beginning next Monday, I'm going to write a poem or prayer every day, in line with the group's daily devotional calendar, culminating with what will probably be a very long, personal SOMEthing for Dionysos on Sunday.  Wish me luck.

I got angry at Dionysos.

I got angry at Dionysos.

Wednesday morning, I texted my dad.  "How's the dog?"

"Not well.  We need you here by 7:45 tomorrow.  It's time to let her go."

17 years she was with us, my pup.  17 blissful years of a stubby little tail wagging her entire bottom whenever I walked in the door, of tummy rubs and sloppy kisses and begging for carrots.  Even though she'd been very ill for a few days, it was too much.  I broke down and started crying at work.  My supervisor, thankfully, has lost a pet before, and gave me some time to myself and a box of tissues.  So I went into a room alone and cried.

Dionysos and I have had an agreement in the past--when my pain is unbearable, He will replace it with joy.  This has worked well for the unexplained, untriggered bouts of depression.  But this time... this time, when He stood before me, arms outstretched, offering, I snapped.

"Go away!  I don't want you here!  You can't have this!  This is MINE, this is MY pain!  I'm allowed to feel this right now.  Go away!"

And He did.  Later, I went home, to spend one last night with my dog.  And as I cried in bed, He came to me again.

"Fuck you!  Fuck you and your joy!  Get the hell away from me!  There is no joy that can replace this, you ass!"

This time, He did not go.  He kept standing there, holding out His arms, looking at me.  I continued screaming, ranting, raving.  I threw things (which is a decidedly odd experience in trance, because you never know what's going to be there to throw).  I cussed, I cried, I fell to my knees.  And I looked at His face.

He was crying.  I understood, then.  He did not offer me joy.  He did not offer to take my pain away.  He offered me comfort.  He offered me empathy.  He knows what it's like, perhaps better than any other god I've worked with, to lose someone precious.

I went to him, then.  And I wept, hot tears, bitter tears, angry tears, despairing tears.  I wept for myself, I wept for my parents and sister, I wept for my dog.  And He held me, and rocked me, until I slept.

I have never watched someone die before.  I lost my great grandmother when I was in 6th grade, but I wasn't close to her.  I lost my aunt in college, but I was away, and she had been very sick for a very long time.  My dog, though, was simply old.  When the sickness came, it was over in less than a week.  Liver failure is like that.  She just started shutting down.  But I was there, with her, with my parents, and I watched her last breath.  The vet took out a stethoscope and held it to her chest.  "She's gone," and my father began to weep, and clung to me.  My mother bent over on the table.  And I cried out to Dionysos.

The pain is still very fresh.  The grief is very real.  It comes in waves... so long as I'm busy, I'm fine.  I had to plan this post in small bits, throughout the day, in between activities that took all of my concentration.  I'm still not sure it makes sense. Even planned as it was, I can't see the keyboard through the tears.  But it's out there, now.

Hail, Comforter.
Hail, bringer of peace.
Hail, Dionysos.

Hail, Hekate.
Hail, Mistress of crossroads.
Hail, guardian of my pup, who runs with your hounds in the worlds beyond this one.

Hail, Sadie, flopping ear and wagging tail.
I love you.
I miss you.

Mighty Dionysus!
Bull-God!
Thrice-Born!
Lord of the Vine!
Ruler of madness!
Bringer of joy!

Three years ago, I came to you.  Hesitant, desperate, I wagered on the words of a dear friend.  Lying in bed, alone and crying, I called out, only Your name on my lips.

I had nothing to bring but tears and broken dreams.  You took my hands, kissed the tears from my cheeks, and wrapped me in Your embrace, the embrace of joy.

You took the pain when it was too much.  You took the hurt when it overwhelmed me.  You took the emptiness and filled it with love.  You took my broken dreams and crushed hopes, and showed me a vision of who I could be.  You took my hand, and started me on this path.

You have given me so much, Lord.  I cannot begin to express my joy, my admiration, my wild love for my wild god.

Thank you, Bringer of Joy!
Thank you, Ruler of Madness!
Thank you, Lord of the Vine!
Thank you, Thrice-Born!
Thank you, Bull-God!
Thank you, O Dionysus, O Lord!

Dionysos came home!

Tonight, I consecrated and blessed a statue of Dionysos I procured this weekend, thanks in part to a close friend of mine (who I call my soul-sister, because really, we were sisters at some point in one of our lives).  The ritual itself was a hodgepodge of ADF style ritual, with Greek influences: Calling Hestia before the Earth Mother, using an omphalos instead of a world tree, and a few other odds and ends.  For the first time, I actually created and used chernips--a small vial of water, into which I dropped a burning incense match, and then washed myself with it.  It was powerful, and something I think I'll do more often.

The working to bless the statue, was, honestly, something I kind of came up with on the spot.  After having stated my intentions and made offerings, I took an omen.  The omen was as follows:

• Have my offerings been accepted?  ~Khi: "Succeeding, friend, you will fulfill a golden oracle."  Positive omens to start off with.
• What do the Kindreds offer to me?  ~Beta: "With the help of fortune, you will have an assistant, Apollo."  Assistance, guidance.  I had asked for this earlier in the day, but had sensed the Kindreds wanted something more before they were willing to offer me specifically what I was asking for, which I won't go into here.
• What further needs do the Kindreds have of me?  ~Delta: "In customs, inopportune strength is weak."  I have always had trouble interpreting this particular oracle.  In this one, however, the message seemed clear: timing is everything.  Persistence and patience will win the day, don't try to do everything at once.

Those omens received, I opened a new bottle of local Ohio wine, poured a libation to the Lord of the Vine, and poured a small cup for myself.  After sharing the wine with him, I took the statue, and anointed it with both the chernips and the wine, blessing it as a home for Him, a place of His worship and His rest.  I dedicated this shrine to him, with its own offering bowl, and His flame (a candle I have had for quite some time, before I was able to get a direct representation of Him).  I asked Him to remind me of His love and His joy each time I gaze upon the statue, and welcomed Him to His permanent place in my home.  Given the aforementioned omens, I think he was pleased.

Cue the reversal of the ritual (thanking everyone, closing the gates, thanking Gaia, thanking Hestia), I poured the offerings I gave upon the stone that's set in the ground outside my apartment (since I couldn't actually DO the ritual outside, they went into a cup and got poured out after the fact).

I have some pictures of the shrine below.  One where the candle is unlit, one where the candle is lit (because the light made it too hard to see the candle holder, which I wanted to share because hey, it's pretty).  Eventually, a Thyrsus will be added.

Let me know what you think!

Trance with the Bull God is an odd experience, and it's different every time I do it.  Tonight, the feeling was akin to one I cherished as a young girl: my father holding my wrists as he spun me in circles, my feet lifting from the ground.

It is a wild feeling, a flying feeling, very in touch with the joyous nature of the God.  Knowing that were he to let go, I would be lost, but he holds me fast, and in doing so, allows me to experience joy and abandon beyond what I could hope to experience in the mundane world.

Tonight, for the first time, I saw him in one of his ancient forms: youthful, exuberant, the sun shining, making him glow (or was he glowing from the inside and lighting all around him?).  He was the young god of the emerging firstfruits.  The vines are beginning to flesh out with leaves and fruit, and he is young again, newly born, newly emerged from the Underworld.  He dances among the fields, and where his feet touch springs new life.  He is rebirth, he is joy, he is exuberance.

He gave me an oracle: Rho.  Wait for a short time.  And so I will listen to this mad and joyful god, who spins me in circles and lets me safely back into myself.  I will hold my feet, dance the dance I am dancing even now, and when I hear the beat change, then, and only then, shall I move forward.

Community

So my last post was mostly a rambling of all the thoughts jumbled together in my head.  I'm going to attempt to make this one a little more topic-focused.  Today's thought: community.

Around my neck hangs a triskele.  Cast in bronze, it's begun to wear, but there are rarely days when I take it off.  It was gifted to me by my grove at our anniversary rite in August of 2012, as a token of having completed the Dedicant Program.  Every member of the grove gets some such token for completing that particular study program, and mine is the triskele.  I don't have any particular connection to that symbol specifically, but I've grown quite attached to it since the necklace was gifted to me.

A bit of backstory.  I first met my grove when I lived, for roughly a year and a half, in Columbus.  I was a student there, I didn't have a car, so I only went to a handful of rites.  Still, it led me quickly to joining ADF.  I shortly transferred to another school and moved about an hour and a half away.  I briefly (for roughly a year and a half) left paganism in favor of Catholicism.  I didn't go to grove rites for a number of years.  A deeply personal experience that I'm unwilling to publicly blog about led to my return to paganism.  I started working on my own, I set up a personal altar, I read everything I could get my hands on, but a little voice in the back of my head said to me, "Remember the Dedicant Program that drew you to ADF in the first place?  You should really look at that again..."

I didn't still have my study materials, so I renewed my long-expired membership.  Part of that renewal asked for Grove affiliation.  None, I wrote.  And then that little voice again.  "They might remember you."  I thought about it for a long time.  I assumed I would be shamed for having gone the way of Catholicism and then coming back.  I assumed there would be snickers behind hands and whispers behind backs about the girl who couldn't make up her mind.  It wouldn't have been the first time I'd heard such talk, though it would be the first time I heard such talk from pagans.

Still, I, and my roommate, went to a Samhain rite.  The drive was long, and when we arrived, there were over 100 people in attendance.  The last rite I'd been to with that grove only had about fifteen!  How could so much happen in two years?!  (Turns out, there were a number of visiting groves and other pagan groups in attendance... I haven't seen a rite quite that large, except possibly Comfest, since then).  Lo and Behold, though... someone walked up to me and said, "Hey!  Welcome back.  We've missed you."  Another grove member came to me and said "Welcome home."  Home, I thought... Yes.  This is home.

I completed the Dedicant program two years later, having my documentation accepted exactly 1 week after my petition for full grove membership was accepted.  My "turkey basting" occurred and I was gifted a token which I will not, under any circumstances, speak more about.  I spoke to Teutates not as "the god of the tribe" but as The God of My Tribe.  It was warm, loving, and supportive.

When I left graduate school the first time (I'm returning this fall, to COMPLETE my degree), I got myself a Big Girl Job.  I moved further south (adding about 20 minutes to any drive to a grove High Day), and started working 5 (sometimes 6) days a week.  This meant two things: I now had some money, but I now had no time.  My shift has just now changed to allow me to leave work while the sun is still shining, but if it happens on a weeknight, I am simply too far away to join my grove for events.  High Days are always on Sundays, usually the one closest to the actual High Day, so I can usually make those.  But druid moons, full moons, liturgy and study meetings... I can't go to them anymore.  At all.  It's simply not possible.

A close friend suggested getting involved with the local grove (yes, there's one closer than my original grove).  I have considered this.  They're good people, and I could find a home there.  Still, the separation from MY grove is exceedingly painful.  They are kin to me, not just 'members of my church.'  I can't make weekend trips to Columbus anymore, and outside of High Days, I never speak to or see anyone from the grove.  It's causing me to question how much of a member I really am.  I wonder, sometimes, if anyone thinks of me and wonders where I've been.  I wonder if they miss me, if they wish I were closer.  I wonder if I ever contributed in any way.

Recently, one of our priests posed a question to Facebook: "If you could give 6 words of advice to new pagans, what would they be?"  One of the responses was "Can't find community?  Make your own."

I did some searching for pagan communities in the area I'm moving to this fall, which is STILL further from my grove.  UU churches have been suggested to me (and I know the CUUPS is a good group, even if they don't have a local branch down here).  I tried contacting the few pagan groups I found that were not exclusively Wiccan, and received no response (possibly they're defunct and the website just hasn't been updated; this seems to be a fairly common occurrence with pagan websites).  But maybe... maybe it's time to start something.  I'll be in that town for a few years.  I know there ARE pagans there.

So this is what I'm pondering right now.  Leaving a community on good terms, maintaining ties over distance and time, starting fresh, starting something new, and tying everything together to form a lasting bond.

Advice?

Just starting out...

I decided to start an actual blog.  My old DP blog is still out there on live journal, but it seemed inappropriate now that I've long completed the DP and am moving to another phase in my spirituality.  So, here I am, a bull-headed follower of a Bull God (Dionysus, for those of you playing the non-Greek game).  This is probably going to be a combination of rantings, devotionals, ponderings-out-loud, and assorted musings on life, religion, faith, growth, and anything else that pops into my head.  We're all mad, here.

Due to the public nature of this blog, I'm going to attempt to not reveal TOO much about myself, and trust that those reading who know me will be able to fill in the blanks.

Let's start off with something that's been rolling around in my head, then.  The concept of faith.

Faith among pagans, at least in my experience, is rarely talked about.  At least for my overarching church, there's this notion of orthopraxy vs. orthodoxy, and we are decidedly orthopraxic... what you believe doesn't matter nearly as much as what you do.  It seems, almost, that even talking about beliefs (philosophy AND theology, which I separate from one another) has become a sort of "taboo."  Maybe this is because of my nature as a mostly solitary druid--most of my contact with other pagans is through Facebook, with the exception of the occasional High Day that I can make the drive to celebrate with others.  My lack of conversation with other pagans is greatly affecting what I hear and experience, even as a grove member.  There's not a whole heck of a lot I can do about that, either, I feel--I just can't make a two hour drive with any kind of regularity, and most people I talk to (or try to talk to) are incredibly busy.  Not that I'm blaming anyone, it's just the reality of my situation at the moment.

This whole train of thought came into mind due to an odd experience I had this weekend.  I was visiting my sister in another state, and went to church with her--a VERY large, non-denominational, "community church" that she's become very involved in in the time she's lived there.  I'm pretty sure everyone I met there assumed I was Christian, just based on my relationship with my sister, even though I wasn't singing their songs (I might have, had I known the words or tune) or praying their prayers (which are all silent, so no one knew who I was actually praying to).  This, as a saw, is a community.  A group of people serving each other and serving the world, all based on a foundation of belief.  The sermon was even on that foundation... the classified it into three things.  Essentials (Jesus died, Jesus was buried, Jesus rose, Jesus appeared), Convictions (things you believe very strongly but aren't necessary to be a Christian), and Preferences (worship style, hair color, what have you).  The pastor spoke at length about the unfortunate tendency of Christians to turn Convictions and Preferences into essentials, whilst dumbing down the essentials into something no one ever really talks about.  The point of the sermon was to step back and look at yourselves--look at what's necessary for your belief, and focus first and foremost on that.

I found myself, during their time of silent prayer, saying my first prayer to the Abrahamic god in many years.  I thanked him, oddly enough, for what he has done for my sister--he is not my god, but he has blessed my sister, she has found a community focused on him that she is at home in, and she's had amazing things happen because of it.  Her relationship to her church, interestingly, has made my relationship to her stronger over the years.  So I thanked that god, and we parted, I think, on good terms.

It took me roughly 7 hours to drive home that day.  I spent a great deal of time thinking about that community based on faith, and I came to realize... I miss that.  I miss the community, the inclusion.  I'm a member of a druid grove, at least in name, but... am I really?  They meet often and I can't be there, they do local community events that I can't be a part of because I live two hours away.  Soon, I will be moving further south, further away from that grove.  I find myself wondering, when the time comes this fall, if I will renew my official membership.  They are forever my kin, but the distance is taxing me, more so than I think any of them know.

I find myself thinking about my faith.  What do I really believe?  What beliefs are at the core of my self?  Even if it's what I do that makes me a pagan, what beliefs INSPIRE what I do?

I spent some time with Dionysus tonight.  He was there, as always, ready to sit with me and talk.  Ready to calm me and comfort me and inspire me and inform me.  I was given an oracle--Delta.  The best interpretations that I've found of the Greek Oracle come from this site, and the part that stuck out to me most is this: "Blind conformity to customs is spineless; overly strict adherence to rules is self-defeating."  The words I heard in my heart told me to examine WHY I do what I do.  And to change my practice accordingly.

I'm going to be taking some time.  Dionysus has many faces, and I would like to meditate on and study as many of them as I can.  I'm also going to be doing some research on ritual and the Core Order of Ritual as is used in ADF.  There's a possibility my own devotions and my own practice will change.  Enough to cause me to leave ADF...?  Doubtful, but possible.  We'll see where this leads me.  I have been promised personal insight and a successful practice if I go through with this.  This blog is, in part, an outward train of thought as I do this.

Wish me luck, friends.  Help me with insight.  Help me see things I might not, interpret words and actions as I cannot within my own head.  And, if you will, ask the gods to grant me faith and fire.