Part two

So After having come to such conclusion about Christianity and Catholicism in specific, and knowing already what I do about Pagan belief systems, I started thinking about the same concepts in this spiritual path and what they meant to me.

I like the idea of A Goddess.  Sure, there are a thousand deities, Goddesses, version or avatars of said Divine Being that can be called upon.  I like the idea of being a Child of Hera, the Queens of the Greek Gods.  Or a warrior of Sekhmet, the Egyptian goddess of revenge but more importantly justice.  Or knowing that Gaia was the original Mother Nature/Earth, or that the trees flowers and water surrounding my favorite reading/meditation place are actually Faeries or Nymphs, who are calling to me sweetly to remind me they are embracing me in love and light from the mother of all things.  It’s a much more comforting image to have, and really isn’t spirituality about comfort and faith, trust and love and the feeling of happiness is difficult times?

The basic rule of such a lifestyle and spiritual path is simple.  Cause harm to none! I like that rule! It’s easy, I’ve always hoped that was the way I lived my life anyway!  This just makes it a religious obligation, which is an easy one to follow!  So what’s the harm, so to speak, with this mentality?

And lastly, I love the idea that my belief in the after-death options can change with time.  Who knows what really happens after that, but I’d like to think I have my entire life to continue to grow and develop such a mindset, and decision.   In fact, truly in my heart, I think we get to decide what happens to us after we die, but I want all the time I can get to make that decision.  I absolutely reject the notion that good people go to heaven and bad people go to hell, and even more so that a single book, or set of ideas can determine what is good and evil. 

So here I am. In a completely different world spiritually, and ten times Happier, it seems.

I’m always had a talent for making things happen a little with my mind, déjà vu is highly common for me, and I seem to get feelings about things long before I am told about them, I just never really talked about it to anyone. I now embrace these things, and my belief system gives me the pride to feel good about it. 

I didn’t tell my dad that I had made this complete conversation, honestly I’m afraid he would’ve had a heart attack on our mostly nice short lunch excursion, and I didn’t’ wanna risk it. But I look forward to the day that these things are in the open between us, and everyone else in my life too. 

I still pray the rosary, regularly. The Virgin Mary is just as good of a representation of the Goddess as Hera, and Sekhmet, and a candle or a flowering plant are to me.  I will still attend Mass occasionally, the ambiance and the lessons aren’t bad ones, on the contrary they teach us things that are important. 

I just have more candles, and incense of my won at home.  I pray in a different manner, I see living things in a different way, and I think differently about the herbs I cut and dry to put in my food or the intentions behind my day to day (ok week to week) tasks such as sweeping, cleaning the living room or putting away clothes and things.

These things make me crazy, or weird, or whatever, to other people.  But that’s not my concern.  After many many years of struggling with my ideology politically, and my spirituality I have found a place I can call home.  Easy stuff. And as the conversations come up a little more with friends around me, they are much easier and simpler and anti-climactic than I thought they would be. 

My boyfriend is a witch. My best friend is hunting for spiritual items for ritual for me for Christmas, and my ex boyfriend seems to be more and more interested in the in and outs of it all every time we talk.

So I hope that this inspires someone out there to investigate their own spiritual path, and consider what The Divine looks like to them.  Maybe it’s in the very beautiful and large crucifix sculpted atop the alter at your Church, or in the simple wooden box at the center of your temple.  Maybe it’s just like my friends Goddess Statue, no face, no characteristics, and no ethnicity just a woman in wood with arms hugging a world.  Or maybe, it’s in the flower you stopped to smell this morning on the way to the Bus Stop.  Whatever it is, explore it. Stretch your mind to it. And embrace it!

The Face of God/Goddess/Gods/Divine/G-D/???

Warning: Today’s post is long winded, a bit windy of a path and may not be for everyone.-also it is not going to be a two-day post.

I haven’t written much about my family over the years that I’ve been on here.  An occasionally post about my Grandmothers, the things they taught me and the things I love about them. The thing I hate is that I don’t see them often enough, especially one of them who I love so so much.  I have written once or twice about my sister, watching her grow up and the lessons I’ve learned from her, that I never expected.  And my mother, the hero of my life.  But I’ve never really talked about my dad.

I’m not going to now either, to be honest, except to say that a conversation we had recently sparked me to clarify things for a few folks. And finally come clean about some major changes with me that I haven’t really discussed much.

My dad and I don’t’ get along super well, we have a decent time when we hang out, but we have never been extremely close.  The two major factors for that are the woman he has been with most of my life being and extremely evil and horrible person that I care to never see again.  And the fact that my father never stood up for me, against anyone else, in my life that I can recall. (others back up this memory; or lack thereof)

The one thing I have never had to deal with, is my Catholic, Chicano father being homophobic (when I was a child maybe but by the time I came out, he took it mostly well) or overly y judgmental.  That is to say-toward me.  Maybe he knows my personality well enough to not bother, but I also think he just respects me enough to realize the little choices I make aren’t about him and really aren’t that detrimental.  My father hates tattoos, I have two of them.  He said “I don’t’ like them” when he found out, and I responded “you don’t need to, they’re mine.”    My father doesn’t mind, and is totally supportive that I do drag, but hates when I wear make-up not in drag.  He wants said “I don’t understand why you have to put no eyeliner to go to work” and I responded “I don’t understand why your jeans must all be Levi’s 501s” He smirked and left it alone.  The point being, my father never really doubts my decisions, just mildly states his disapproval when I’ve done something he doesn’t care for.  All in all, I love him dearly, and am grateful for the support he has given me.

There is one thing that has always been a majorly interesting area of conversation between my father and I, and then subsequently, my mother and I.  Religion.

My dad grew up Catholic, and is a relatively fearful worrying person.  My family sees a Catholic Spiritual Healer  regularly, who they refuse to believe is a Witch. She is merely someone who was given extra powers from God, to use things like ceremonial knives, incense, eggs, ribbons/strings/thread/yarn and random other items (that all, by the way, bare and incredibly high resemblance to Pagan/Wiccan Craft than Catholic Church-ware) Despite this obviously ridiculous defense of the healer, I’ve never been opposed to seeing her, in fact I appreciate it!  I just laugh and go alone with what my father says about who she is and what she is.  What has always bothered me was the very Black and White vision of God my father always had. And, in turn, his intense fear of evil.  My dad believes that a person being jealous of you can send an owl to your bedroom window at night and that owl will try to steal your soul for the devil.  Or that a friend of mine who wrecked a car and died, because he hit a deer at about 100mph did so because a witch sent the deer to cause said accident.  Now I have lots of faith in lots of things, but never have I had this fearful they are after me mentality. So when we went to lunch the other day, and my dad said “Hey, by the way, did you ever get Baptized?” I had a small lump in my throat. 

I haven’t had a conversation with either of my parents, or anyone in my family really, about where my spiritual path has led me in the past ten years. 

When I moved to Albuquerque and UNM I was pretty devoutly Catholic myself.  I attended the Newman Center on Campus regularly, participated in student groups, and was attending RCIA classes to become, officially, Catholic.  I like the faith. I like the symbolism, and the ritual and the scent and sound and the comfort and décor.  I feel comfortable at Mass, and though I have major disagreements with the church on many issues, I believed always that I could just go to church; I could sort out what I believe from what is BS and be happy Catholic Gay Feminist Socialist.  Why not?

But somewhere in the past few years something shifted. 

First I didn’t feel comfortable being in a Catholic Church.  The church became more right wing and honestly, there was less room for my comfort in there. I still like Mass, and more often will attend Mass at a Church where I know no one.  But there was something more to it.

My vision of god changed. And my vision of my power changed. And my vision of my connection to the Divine changed. The result:  I am, for all intents and purposes, a full blown Pagan. 

My view of God, the Father, has always been so distorted. Torn.  I envisioned this Charlton Hesston- esque, John Wayne like guy, who is more interested in punishment than in nurturing or forgiveness.  Maybe this is an issue of sex and gender I need to work out, but I’ve never gone to My Father, (Spiritual, Biological or Step) for confessions or help or guidance on emotional issues, or love life or hurting. I’ve always gone to my mother.  So why would my God, to whom I pray at night not resemble the characteristics of the real, live person to whom I take my pain and needs? 

Then I began to look at the issue of exclusivity of Christianity.  You must do this, and this, and this or you will not go to Heaven.  These things will lead you to Hell.   I believe strongly in rules. I think rules teach goo lessons.  I think they are most effective when they are simple, to the point and can be applied to thousands of situations at once.  (not like the English language, of which I am so fond – but more like, Math- a negative number times a positive number is always going to be… well I forget, but you get the point.. I hope… Otherwise study Math and English more…) And so this long list of rules from the Old Testament (which were mainly written, I’m sure, to keep people from getting sick(pork?) or straying from culturally important/economically important norms at the time (mixed fabrics, Women on their periods, etc) which was incredibly important hen replaced with this new list of rules from the New Testament and suddenly life seems like this intricate list of Do’s and Don’ts for which I have to wonder what is the purpose?

I realized that though I’ve long known and enjoyed learning about various forms of Pagan/Wiccan/Voodoun/Santeria spirituality, the rules make much more sense. Essentially don’t harm people, don’t force them to do things against their will, and try to enjoy your life will being a blessing to those around you.  Rather than trying to uphold this intense and complicated code of morality, try to live an ethical life and you will be just fine. 

So I now have three major things going against the mainstream idea of Christianity…

1.       I don’t’ like things being to black and white good and bad

2.       I don’t like such complicated moral systems and especially one that is so easily manipulated into hatred or other non-spiritually-fulfilling concepts/actions.

3.       I don’t like the vision of The Divine that was invoked through Christianity at all, and I feel always ready for punishment when pondering Him.

That seems like enough for me…

I’ll post the second half of this tomorrow.  Stay tuned...