Life in the universe

Does consciousness exist in the universe? Does life exist? What defines life? When I think about how I define life it is usually incumbent upon the possession of a soul. But then I have seen people who are soulless phantoms.

Is the soul associated with consciousness? Being heavily influenced by animism I believe that different elements possess consciousnesses and energies of their own identity, and that it is these things that make those elements alive. But can these tenets be applied to planets, comets, and other star matter throughout the universe? This argument does not presuppose the ignorance necessary to claim that life is only what is properly observable through the scope of the human world. I’m willing to open my mind to the potential for other forms of life and consciousness throughout the universe, and this is why I adhere to a loosely constructed definition of the relationship between life and consciousness.

Imagine for a moment that the sun was actually a dead star, not from a scientific standpoint, but from my definition of the relationship between life and consciousness. For those who worship the sun and other dead stars what is the power of their faith? Can it restore life? Does it dissipate in the cosmos? Or is that energy being intercepted or usurped by other spatial entities?

If this were the case would it call into question the legitimacy of drawing down and invoking the planetary powers or would it make any difference at all? It’s important to remember that while some magicians are literalists, others like the chaotes, draw energy from and give lip service to forces believed by many to be deeply rooted in fiction.

But how would this affect our understanding of mythology and our relationship with the gods? Many gods in pantheons worldwide are associated with the stars. And some of them were historically associated with sunlight and water as the building blocks of life. What if those regional deities were mistakenly identified with the wrong stars? That is, what if some gods of life were associated with dead stars?

I am one of those infernal eclectics, with a penchant for constant introspection. As such, I frequently question why we hold to certain beliefs and foundations when the fields that our beliefs are rooted in, are constantly in a state of change. Meaning that, instead of allowing the mythical foundations to collect dust, we should frequently re-evaluate what our ancestors believed and why, as well as what they might have hidden in between the lines. It would be foolish, in my opinion, to call the ancients “primitive savages ” and presume that they possessed no understanding of any of the concepts which are an everyday part of our lives. After all, there’s nothing new under the sun.

Poetry as Magic

Looking at Mandragora introduced me to Ruby Sara’s take on this subject. However its not new to me. One of the formative concepts that initially attracted me to the Irish Celtic pantheon was the importance that the regional mythology placed on the role of poet. His power was beyond magic. He was the singer of souls, and his wisdom sought after by kings. Word of the mouth of the poet was the greatest verbal insult, and had the power to irreparably tarnish one’s caracter.

I found myself in agreement with Sara’s assessment of magic in the words we use. Words create imagery and paint portrayals of who we are and how we view the world. Rejections or reconstructions of language and how we use it can break down taboos and social constraints and rebuild the world around us. Social criticisms are elementary to the task of evoking change in our world. And what else is magic bu the evocation of change, the ability to use criticisms to villify, and poetic rhetoric to beautify. People respond to stimuli accordingly. Sound, color, texture, form: they create ambience and evoke mood. Perhaps this helps to elucidate the impact of the performance arts on the psyche.

In my own time, I am very influenced by music and word pairings. In my work, which is largely verbose, it is about telling stories using fictional and mythic symbolism that bare some reflection or relationship with subjects of modern consideration. And most often my work are retellings of mythic tales, sometimes written from alternate perspectives.  Yet they are also criticisms of social ideas which seem to have become things that others take for granted or hold as sacred entities.  And I seek to challenge them because nothing is so sacred that it should escape individualized scrutiny. We should be fully aware of why we do as we do, and clarify for ourselves whether we are looking at ideologies that hold meaning for us, or if thse things are antequated and outmoded functionalities worthy of re-appraisal.

One of the fundamental arguments among members of the Pagan community at large is that so many people have lost sight of the magic and beauty in the natural world. Sometimes poetry is necessary to open the door and reveal what has been lost from our world.

A birth and divinatory doubts

Late last month I went into the hospital for a scheduled caesarean section and left a week later with my beautiful baby boy. So much of it still seems unreal to me. I had also been in a funk over being super-conscious of divination. Over the last several months I ran several divination methods that described the same types of events. When these did not manifest as I anticipated I began to think there was something wrong with my interpretations as a whole.  And then earlier tonight, as a friend was telling me about his concerns about his father’s health I was reminded of what I saw about that subject several months ago. It was back then that I had felt an urgency for him to want to be close to his family in ways he had not done before. He didn’t feel that urgency at the time and so I chalked it up to misinterpretatation. Tonight I realized he was finally catching up to what I had seen six months prior. This filled me with both joy and sorrow. On the one hand, I was happy to know that my doubt was unfounded and that I, in fact, still got it! On the other hand it made me cautious because this may signal that while the divinations were correct, it was the timing that was off. This in turn drew forth concerns that there are more changes to come that are going to hurt alot of people, myself included. Either way it seems as a thing to be embraced as its time comes. So back to the waiting game.

Thoughts on the coming months

Bed rest has removed me from doing regular postings for the last several months. I’ve been concerned primarily with my current pregnancy. Up until now, however, everything seems to be moving very smoothly and I have about a month left. During this time I have been reviewing things I have scribed in various disposable journals about all manner of things. Some of the more vital ideas I move to the more permanent journals. It seems like a lot of work for keeping track of thoughts and explorations but it is the best way for me to remain organized. It has also helped me to remain focused on something to assuage the insanity of bed rest.

Also, from time to time, I may be found sharing ideas with others of like mind on a few Facebook -oriented groups. This has also been helpful in engaging in thought experiments to help me re-evaluate where I am on my path at this current juncture. I am very excited at what lies ahead. Not just with regard to the birth of my son, but also with the coming of the autumn equinox and then Samhain to follow. This is my favourite time of year and I hope to enjoy and share these experiences with him in his first months of life.

Mid-May Reflections on Death

Recently, a close friend’s dealings with the impending loss of his best friend, paired with the call of ravens and gods associated with death have spawned in me a desire to review what I wrote back in December. From time to time I go through cycles of study – perhaps other people do too.  The death current, however, is one that I frequently return to, because it is such a deeply inherent part of my practice. Lately I find myself referring to Egyptian gods on the subject of death. For me, there is a strong pull, especially towards Seth and Nephthys, Isis and Osiris. I have recognized other death-oriented deities in the past, but within the last year have given greater consideration, not to death as a subject which stands alone. Rather, to one that is interconnected with the processes of life, rebirth, and life-force or spirit.

Other representations and personifications speak to other forms of death. Baba Jaga for instance, the Slavic goddess of the witches, reveals herself as a reflection of the trials of purification. Her oven a representation both of the fires of purification, and the fires of illumination. Kali, the Indian (Vedic) goddess who is often associated with death marked by her necklace of skulls, signifies death according to the passage of time and the end of cycles. The Morrigan in Celtic mythology, prepares the way for fallen soldiers, while Hel, in Norse mythology, secures a place for men who did not die the glorious death – the death of the warrior.  And although all of these are associated with different forms of death, none specifically address the kind of considerations (see above) that I have been wagering very recently.

Sometime ago I had a conversation with a friend about when we thought the soul attaches itself to the body of a growing fetus. If we thought the soul enters the body at conception, at birth, or sometime in between. Not for the sake of bringing a new perspective to the abortion argument so much as a serious curiosity about how and when body and soul become one. For a long time I was a firm believer in the notion that the soul of the child to be entered at conception, but several yrs of experience with miscarriages have led me to rethink that- especially early miscarriage. Meditations on this topic are what initially led me to consider the interconnectedness between life, death, rebirth and spirit.

OBL, darkness and hate.

I was commenting on someone’s facebook commentary a few days ago about the American response to the death of Osama Bin Laden. She and a few others on her friend’s list were aghast at the joyous celebrations of Americans dancing in the streets the other nite. I couldn’t join her banter against what she termed the barbarism and hate. She seemed convinced that the only way to defeat one form of hate wasn’t to combat it with more hate but to take the high road of peace. I was standing clear on the other side of the spectrum. Not being much of a believer in peace (in a human context) to begin with, began to argue against turning the other cheek.  I felt it necessary to remind her that following the events of 9/11, OBL’s supporters were celebrating in a similar fashion. She viewed this as hate vs. hate. But the quandary I see, which isn’t much of a quandary at all, is that in times of war it has less to do with hate, than the rites of self-preservation.

Some news commentators have mistakenly quipped about the concerns with OBL having nothing to do with Islam, while some historians are astute enough to recognize that among his people OBL was a kind of ‘spiritual leader’. But it wasn’t just western influence that he objected to in Saudi Arabia and other parts of the middle east, but the shifting direction of Islam. To this day I still argue against the notion that Islam is a religion of peace, unless you understand ‘peace’ in an Islamic context. According to the Qu’ran, peace is obtained via submission. Islam has as bloody a history as Christianity, and yet I’m continually astounded that people will harp on Christianity’s trail of blood and tears, and in the same breath say nothing of Islam.

But getting back to the death of OBL, as far as I’m concerned, he got what was comin’ to him. However, the dialogue that ensued on facebook veered off of the subject of OBL and the average American response, and ventured into particularly dangerous territory. She began to speak of darkness and hate as two things that walk hand in hand with one another – a thing that only light can heal. This was a very bad direction for her to go in, in my opinion. Being a reconstructionist herself, I would have thought that she could appreciate where I was coming from. Historically speaking, any civilization that did not throw down the gauntlet when it was necessary would not have lasted long enough for entry into the annals of history. I’ve been having trouble wrapping my head around how someone who views war as hate, and not as necessity or self-preservation can devote themselves to a reconstructionist path from a time when that particular culture faced decisions like these every single day.

The other problem here is the synonymity of darkness and hate. There is a great number of pagans out there, myself included, who do not associate darkness with hate, evil or anything remotely negative, but instead find within its hallowed expanse things like beauty, comfort and peace. I wondered if there was a correlation between people who view war as hate, and people who view darkness as a thing that can only be fought or overcome by light. It brings us back to a dualism between light and dark, between good and evil. It is a very simplistic view. One that I take great offense to, and one that within my own soul I cannot abide. Does that mean I’m going to initiate a war with people who feel that way? Nah. They can believe whatever they wish. I’m not out to change people’s minds. But I find it sad that there are so many who still feel that way, regardless of their religion.

Spring Cleaning/Revelations/Call to Solitaries

Things have been relatively quiet here as of late. With the good news we received about my most recent pregnancy, the Gnostic and I have been busy cleaning house. Its brought me to a stage in my life, yet again, where it is time for me to re-evaluate where my path is leading.  The majority of my findings were wiccan and new-age related items. And my path has taken me into a vastly different direction in the last decade, but especially in the last four months.  Cleaning up I found a smattering of old writings over the years that seem to hold more merit nowadays than they did in my teens and twenties. Things that were a reflection not of my studies and interests, but of a connection with the universe, and also with myself.  Things that books or instruction from mentors will never offer. Suddenly in light of this realization many of the books seem less important or to hold less importance in my heart and soul.

I found a modest selection of books that just don’t seem to mean to me what they once did.  So it seems only just that I prepare to pass them on to people who are in need of these things.  Not just books but any supplies for which I feel no necessity.  So in a sense this post is a call to any solitaries out there who happen to reside in the St. Louis/Metro area who are interested or in need of books and other supplies, and are also familiar with the North Co. area.  If you have any questions or comments drop me a line.

Remembering What’s Important: Re-evaluating Ritual Days

What aspects of religion or philosophy are important to you? These subjects have always been the cornerstone of my life. There was never a point in my life when I wasn’t concerned with the soul or matters of the spiritual. My last ritual, as one might guess from the frequency of these posts, was Yule. As I surf the sites on Facebook and other sites on the internet to find ideas of what others are thinking about with regard to the changing seasons, I find that much of it is beginning to fall flat for me, and lacking substance. Because of this I never even gave Imbolc a second glance this year. I find that I move through certain cycles where observations of nature offer more profound insight than observing rituals as a matter of ‘course’. Perhaps on a subconscious level I am seeking simplification.

One area in which I think that LaVey had it right was to celebrate one’s own birthday and the processional equinoxes and solstices.  Perhaps many of these cross-quarter days create too much clutter in the mind between the pivotal points on the turning of the wheel (with the exception of Samhain of course-because long before I began to understand the importance of this date from a Pagan context, I knew it was very important to me).  I’ve spoken before about how I have trouble keeping up with all of the cross-quarter days, and have spent years trying to work out exactly why I burden myself so.  There are plenty of scholars and modern writers on the craft who go into detail at length about the reasons why people celebrate these days, most notably as halfway points between the procession, and in many ways it seems as though we are still trying to adhere to a throwback of rural practice.  And for many of us that way of life is gone.

And among those who know me best, they would never imagine in a million years that I could possibly struggle with letting go of outdated modalities, yet in the tenure plus of my experience with Paganism, I have always struggled with that concept. But I have always championed the cause of finding the path that is right for each of us over the blind worship of days and things in which meaning seems to simply fall away. This is a point I visit quite frequently. Primarily because these are very difficult yet very important questions to ask ourselves.  Eclecticism gets a lot of criticism from other traditions. Perhaps this is why.

The mantra of eclecticism has often been described as a salad-bar mentality. Taking only what one needs or finds useful. Opponents of this mantra look upon it as though it were somehow a bad thing. I often wonder if there isn’t some level of a guilt complex formed at the base of the practices of those who are too busy sneering down their noses at eclecticism to begin to understand why some people choose this as a very real and viable life path for themselves. They call it lazy, armchair paganism (or any religion/spirituality for that matter). Lacking devotion or unwilling to embrace both the positive and negative attributes of any dogma.

But why should an individual who does not bow before the conventions or traditions of their communities, religious or otherwise, feel obliged to cling to ideologies whose purpose has long since been relegated to the scrap heaps of history? These are the men and women who in other times and places have been called pioneers, who have spearheaded and manifested their own conceptions of what it is that is important to them. Becoming leaders and freethinkers instead of simply being ‘part of a community’. These, in my opinion, are the fearless ones, who reach out into the abyss, ready to create every tomorrow.

Post Yule Reflections & the Advent of Capricorn

I hear talk that some men think its women’s work to do the decorating for the holidays. That also includes the act of doing all the cooking, wrapping the presents, and stirring everyone into a frenzy of holiday cheer during that time of the year. Maybe its because we’re just better at it.  Maybe it is a genetic disposition towards being a walker between the worlds, a seeker of wisdom, the prophet who watches the stars and knows the turning of the wheel.  Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with being a woman at all.

“In protection of [others] in the service of God.”

That is how the motto reads on my family crest.  Not the family I married into, but my maiden house.  Last night I wrote about a burning duty to assist and care for others as mother Tiamat would do for her progeny and today find myself reading about Capricorn as obligation. While reading theoretical concepts I can easily relate to the ways in which I find it manifesting itself in my own life:  in the service of others.

In the service of others:  mainly pouring my energy, heart and soul into the preparation of foodstuffs designed to remind all who partake of the joy and togetherness to be found in assembling for feast this weekend.  This is a time to remind them that this is no time to dwell in their sorrows and fears – instead to soak up the warmth and joy found in fellowship. To put it simply – to eat, drink, and be merry.

As most people are aware, the advent of Capricorn falls on Alban Arthuan, or Yule, 12/21 – 12/22.  This year finds me searching for inspiration by returning to Druidic sources and the emphasis placed on the sun and its allegory to the nurturing of all manner of seeds. An incubatory phase as we await the growth of new potential and the return of the light and warmth that feeds our Earth.  Likewise the emphasis falls at this time on archetypes of solar or fiery metaphors.

It has been said that through the art of memory do we bring attention to long forgotten archetypes. And often, it is through our remembrance of myth and song that spirits and deities spark eternal. Yet there is another thread that runs concurrent at this juncture, and it is one of forgiveness and self-redemption. Perhaps in this way service to the Gods is also first a form of service to one’s self in overcoming and shedding the skin of self-inflicted abuses and miseries.  It is often said that we must do for ourselves, that we must love ourselves before we can love or act (not on behalf of) but with compassion for others.

Brief Thoughts on Chaos

What’s become a lengthy interest in Satanism has somehow led me back to the Cthulhu mythos, and understandably so. There is a considerable degree of application in both areas of study. I was rather impressed with the Laveyan ‘call to cthulhu’, which had all the force and intensity of someone who was versed in Lovecraftian lore.  It was nice to feel some tangible semblance of chaos once more.  There is something rather poignant in the notion of being called to ideologies or archetypes that are the summation of all that we are, and all that we possess.

Some wise words from Venger Satanis go something like this:

“Opening one’s self up to potential annihilation is only for the intrepid and the ambitious… those who would risk a fate worse than death in order to achieve ineffable transcendence.”

This is the natural progression. Anything else is deleterious and insincere.