The Pagan Heart
|
December 2004 Issue
|
Odd Ducks Rock!
By Xylia Lune
Let me start by saying that from about the age of two until four-ish, I pretended I was a dog named, "Sparky." By the end of high school I'd read most of the New Age section in the bookstore and was actively working at having an out-of-body experience. The reality that I am the odd duck (and an incredibly creative one at that) in my family is a generally accepted fact and part of larger universal truths we hold to be self-evident: the sun always shines, the laws of gravity are always in place, one's water heater will always die the day before company arrives and the day after the sale ends, and every family is blessed with one odd duck. It's true. Hi. Don't get me wrong -- I come from a very strong, close-knit family. Some would even go so far as to call us functional Cleavers, the overly-attached, Pollyannic family from the 1950's TV show, "Leave it to Beaver." It's like we should be running around in circles singing on some grassy hill in Switzerland or something. But too much perfection makes for boring life and boring TV. Something had to give. And apparently the gods deemed that something to be me. I see my thealogy as integral to the way I live and the way I raise my children. I don't know that I chose to be a Pagan so much as the Goddess chose me. And while it has taken me years to accept, like many other things in my life, in terms of my spirituality I march to the beat of a different drummer. At issue is that so many people along the Pagan spectrum live in fear of others knowing that we are part of this great amorphous "other". And of the many reasons why: our wonderful symbols have been stolen and associated with negativity (the pentacle is seen as a great evil and the triple moon has become the biohazzard symbol); the very name of our group has been given pejorative connotation ("one who has little or no religion and who delights in sensual pleasures and material goods: an irreligious or hedonistic person"); crikey, they used to burn us for this stuff, so of course we're a little touchy telling people what we believe. The media doesn't help our cause. Rarely do you hear about the strides Pagans have made in saving our planet from rape and destruction, but if some nutjob pedophile lures a youngster into her clutches, you can bet her claim to be a Witch is mentioned no less that 5 times. Here's the rub: For me, part of knowing the divine, and living with knowledge that she exists is admitting to myself she means something to me, that I can't live without honoring her and learning more about her. For example, this means that when someone says to me, "May Jesus bless you", I am compelled to have the Goddess bless them back. They have offered me a kindness, why shouldn't I offer them one back? Hence, I have chosen to *slowly* step out of the broom closet. My slow stepping from this pantry goes over real well in where I live and work, which happens to be the most conservative, fundamentalist-ridden part of the state (and I mean that in the nicest possible way). But because I am Pagan, my choice to be me doesn't mean I have to proselytize, trying to convince the world I am right; I don't have to flaunt my beliefs or to wish a very Merry Solstice upon every passerby. But it also doesn't mean I need to be afraid to simply enjoy the comforts of my faith. To whit: My company had just adopted a new policy, allowing employees to take a Diversity Day holiday of their choosing. Standard choices were Good Friday, Martin Luther King Day, Cinco de Mayo and Veterans Day. One would think that the opportunity of selecting a free-day off would be a pretty fantastic choice to have to make. And yet, there I sat trying to decide which holiday was easiest to pronounce and which would not be questioned by my boss. In the end, it didn't matter. ANY Pagan holiday would be questioned, (and honestly, could you say "Imbolc" or "Samhain" the first time you tried?) With every passing day, as I accept that my faith is what it is, that I am who I am, admitting it to myself and to others comes more easily -- more naturally. And for me, it's not just okay to talk about it; in some cases, it's freeing. If members of other religions aren't filled with worry or remorse over discussing their religious beliefs with those who ask, why should we be? Our religion is our right to claim as our own, to express (or not express) what we believe as we choose. I understand the anxiety (believe me, the words "Pagan" and "Witchcraft" wouldn't go over well in my large family), but the Gay/Lesbian contingent was onto something when they claimed their lives with pride. I literally know why we fear stepping out, but if we claim it for ourselves, we claim it and make it safe for our children. Our comfort and acceptance of our convictions will move people's viewpoints from "Paganism (insert non-major religious philosophy here) is just a passing phase/craze" to "it's their religion/way of life". So each day I send out those good vibes, I breathe in, I breathe out and fill myself with the all love, light and energy of the Universe. We Pagans are the happy ones. In the end, we can be all we choose to be. Isn't it great to be the odd duck? |
Return to the Index of articles for more Whispers in the Dark
