Connection To The Wolf

Perhaps it’s still made up in my mind
Perhaps it is still a game
The heart and soul of a wolf inside
My piece of burning hell flame

Playing with clothes, weapons, and titles
Superficial station claim
Meaningless oaths, spoken to the flames
Played for adoration aim

My own gameplay was not convincing
Pomp and circumstance aren’t me
I cannot be disingenuine
Taken oaths were true to me

My oaths meant kindling for that fire
So I let the flame transform
Because I paid the entrance prices
The seed cracked, open to the storm

As it happens in the turns of life
My transformation was real
The heart of the wolf beats with my own
Oath and code, spirit keeps sealed

Courage, enough to stand in battle
Strength, seeing the fighting through
Loyalty to Gods, family, oathbound
Integrity, my spirit, be true

Honor to give, live by and receive
Kindness for all, no exclusion
Discipline, may the right path pursue
Perseverance for completion

I know these truths I found in the pack
I follow this code daily
The scars of the wolf still stain my skin
The code my authenticity

Proud am I, to have crossed my swords
With those whom I call brother
My battle now is more serious
Fighting pain my endeavor

I will not forget what I have done
Even with the pain of loss
I won’t continue the way it was
The lone wolf, forever lost

But even without the pack support
By sword and blood, sister am I
Burned in hell, badges worn with honor
I am transformed from the fire

No one can tell me what I am not
I begin to understand
Ironwolf am I, forever will be
Sworn by will and strength to stand

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Pain

I awaken in the morning
Try not to move
Or else the pain will start

Finally move, stumble forward
Grimace faced
Pain awakens again

I drive to work and greet the sun
Spasms start now
The pain continues on

I stand up from my desk again
Stop a moment
The spike of pain settles

I continue the work facade
Typing hurts
The pain keeps me company

Day done, I walk out to my Jeep
Pretend I’m fine
Pain in my arms and body

I share my plight with others
Oh, like I have!
NOT. THE. SAME. New pain starts now

I try to claim my old strength
I do too much
The pain makes me bedridden

Another activity missed
I watch them leave
The pain wins again with tears

I think about what I have lost
Black belts, friends, strength
The damned pain continues on

Never understanding, why me
No one asks now
A new pain hurts my heart

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t
I just cannot win
The pain continues its waves

No one understands why I fight
Battles won, battles lost
Pain, my constant companion

I am in my own special war
Must fight, or die
The pain never gives up

Still, I scheme and plot for more
Wanting life back
But the pain never lets go

A Response to the Hate Seen Today

Warning – language & descriptions of violence

This is not how I wanted to spend my Friday at work.  I didn’t want to sit here forcing myself to stay calm while inside I was walking a fine line between being so fucking angry I want to punch holes in my office walls and wanting to hug every non-Christian that I work with.

But that is what I am right now.  And I don’t think those feelings are going to go away anytime soon, so I have to find a place to put them.

So I’m writing.

Despite my background in sword and martial arts training, I actually am a fairly passive person.  I do regular mindfulness work and have come to realize many of the things that I used to get mad about were not really worth it.  There were many times I would be mad at something that I had no control over, and all I was doing was losing energy to a worthless cause.  (And losing personal energy while also dealing with an autoimmune disease is a huge issue)

But I still have a solid anger streak, and I can blame my ancestry for that.   When my father gets pissed, he scares people, and it’s the same with me.  If you have hurt my family or done something this despicable, I don’t care who the hell you are…I’ll go toe to toe with you and curse you with my last breath if you have purposefully hurt that which I love.

And today that anger is front and center.  Some piss-ant-piece-of-sludge-that-calls-himself-human decided to hurt people in the name of a God I hold dear.  And if that wasn’t enough, this cockroach went after a group of people already reeling from the way they have been treated across the world – all because they choose to worship and act differently than a so-called Christian/white norm.  And I’m outraged and pissed.

This thing-that-walks does not speak for me.  This rotten piece of flesh doesn’t speak for my Heathen friends, and it damn well doesn’t speak for a majority of the population of Heathens around the world.  I don’t give a flying fuck what this piece of shit thinks is ‘right’ or how many ‘truths’ it thinks it has found in a historical text about my God being exclusive to one supposed ‘race’.  This trash is dead wrong.  And so are all of the other bottom feeders that believe the same thing.  The only thing I see when I look at people who try to persuade others that there is an ‘exclusive’ race is a bunch of people who are upset that their dicks are too short and need to compensate for it.

My Gods are not about being exclusive anything.  My Gods deem you worthy in what you do, how much you learn, how much you grow, and how well you stand on your own two feet.  They aren’t Gods that ‘forgive’ you for doing something wrong.  They ask instead what you are going to do to make things right in the eyes of those you hurt and in the eyes of your tribe and community.  To walk a Heathen path is to consume the real truth of the world…not to exclude but to let others live their lives the way they choose.  To be Heathen is to protect those who cannot speak for themselves and to learn to be whole in spirit.  To be Heathen is to care for those too weak from their own trials until they can stand strong once again to live their own truths.

I do not kneel to my Gods, but I do bow as I would to a sabumnim in honor and respect of what they teach, and I do my damnedest to honor my own truth and principles.

And it is these principles and this anger that speaks now.

This miscreant will never speak for me.  This malefactor will never know the understanding and truth of the Gods.  The wrongdoer has done a deed so hideous that soon it will be time to make up for the pain caused to 49 people, to 49 families, to the local community and country.  There is also the dealings caused against those of us who truly understand what it means to walk a Heathen path in this day and age; those of us who fight day in and day out to show that we are not that which hates others.

May his body rot in Hel, infested in maggots.  May he feel the pain of each and every bite in his rotten flesh to start to atone for the pain that was caused.  May he truly understand his wrongdoing so that his punishment is even more severe in his mind.  And when the Goddess feels he has had enough of the rotting punishment may he be made whole again only to be cut by a dull knife into as many pieces as people he has hurt or has caused to grieve today.

Then let his spirit be given to those who scream for vengeance.

Come Back to Battle

It came to me today,
The picture, freshly taunting
Salt to the wound, it was
A known battlefield, always haunting

My eyes filled, my heart ached,
Memories came flooding back.
Of wasted time, wrapped in fear
And battle skills I sorely lacked

Courage had I, heart too
It took everything I had
Just to wear the colors
And hold my sword, armor-clad

Oh to go back to then
Just to try once more
Prove what I say I was
The fighting Lady of that war

Now, body broken, Spirit healing
I stare as the picture speaks
It whispers temptations if I let it
Yet it also taunts with battle shrieks

I grow stronger now, yet cannot tell
What the fates have in store for me
But now I know, I cannot answer the call
For me, Lady fighter I will never again be.

 

 

 

Photo from Deviant art

The Tempering

Fear in the heart
My Legs weak
The threatening dark
sensing my defeat

Surrounding whispers
Heart of pain
Stomach clenching
My tears like rain

Screaming, near defeat,
But strength still flows
This won’t take me
Truth lives in my bones

Once more, I stand
Though weak, I fight
The tempering  continues
Spirit burns bright.

 

 

The Pain of Division: Why the Native American Taunting Hurts So Damn Much

I hate that I hurt enough to write this. I hate that I sit here, partially in tears, thinking about the division that has everything in this nation polarized. This incident this weekend is already making the rounds on the right and left, with people already camped out and digging in their positions on both sides. And until now, I’ve been doing my best trying not to become entrenched.  I’ve done my best these past years trying to not let the horrid atrocities I see on the news get to me. I’ve been carefully navigating my way through each new situation, each new bit of news and its revelations with my heart still intact, hoping that sooner or later there would be a solution and we would just get back to all being united in SOMETHING.

But seeing this weekend’s horrible video of Elder Nathan Philips being taunted by a group of ‘Catholic’ kids broke me. It hurt. It made me angry and made me want to throw up all at the same time. It made me angry cause I recognize that demeanor and that sense of entitlement, and it sickens me because where I see it is in my own extended family.

 

My upbringing
I grew up Roman Catholic with blue collar, Baby Boomer parents. Thanks to my Grandparents payment of the fees and at their request, I was put in private, Catholic school. And while the school’s religious doctrine was significantly lacking compared to other Christian schools in the area, the same, simple teachings were expressed over and over. Love one another. Treat others as you wish to be treated. For what you so do to the least of my brothers you do onto me. These are the lessons an impressionable youngster like me took to heart, and I still do my best to follow them.

The same lessons weren’t taught at home. I asked my mother one time why she wouldn’t let me wave hi to a group riding motorcycles as we were going into a restaurant one time. “We don’t associate with THOSE type of people,” was her reply. My father taught me about ‘reverse racism’ and used to point out examples – anytime a black person ever stood up for themselves it was labeled as ‘acting entitled.’ The migrants (that was their name; never immigrants, Latinos or other culturally appropriate titles) that worked in the fields around our small city were ones to stay away from, because they were uncivilized, stupid and dangerous. I still remember a garage sale we had where I accidentally opened up the second garage door at the same time a family of Latinos were looking at what we had for sale. My opening the second door allowed all of the tools my father had that weren’t part of the sale to be seen. He was mad for weeks after, fully expecting his garage would be broken into at any moment.

It didn’t stop with cultural racism. When a new priest came to town, he decided to teach meditation and even did a laying of hands and prayer ceremony after mass one time for a woman who had stage 4 breast cancer. I remember her being in tears, thanking all of us who participated with hugs. I was so very excited at learning from this new priest as I knew these were things that would make me feel closer to God. But of course my parents saw it differently. They joined the group of parents that worked to get him kicked out of the parish for teaching “Buddhism”.

Of course, my religious questions continued. Dad had taught me the Nicene creed, the Catholic statement of faith, had a line that said, “Of all that is seen and unseen”, meaning that we believed in spirits and life after death. I think he wished that he hadn’t said that later, because his demeanor changed after I started asking more questions he couldn’t answer. When they became too profound, he said I shouldn’t be asking them. “The meek shall inherit the earth,” he would say, “Be like a child to enter the kingdom of heaven.” He told me I was thinking too much. I had to start taking things at face value and stop asking questions.

 

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back
The beliefs I grew up with and were ‘supposed’ to have didn’t feel right to me, and so, after moving away, I studied for myself and found out that many of the things I was taught were wrong. There is no such thing as ‘reverse racism.’ People of color DO have more issues trying to live in any society in the United States because they are still dealing with the after effects of decades of laws that did not allow them to become as financially stable as whites during the Jim Crow era. I know now that many of the immigrants that come from that southern border are fleeing from horrible situations. They have nothing, and they are simply coming here to find hope and to live their life as they wish, much like my own family came from Germany, France and England many generations ago.

But you have to go back and visit sometime. And for the longest time I did go back like a dutiful child. I tried like hell not to bring anything up that would cause problems. I wanted them to be proud of who I had become and of the life I made for myself. And most important to me was that I wanted them to recognize that I still believe those things that I was taught so many years ago in that private Catholic school. Love one another. Do onto others as you would have done to you, for what you onto the least of my brothers you do onto me. Perhaps I wasn’t going to mass regularly, but I was still searching, doing what I could to find my religious place in the world and make it balance with still being accepted by my family.

It never happened. Even up until ten years ago I was still trying. I’d bring something up to my father that another minister had said and he would immediately end the conversation with, “that’s too liberal.” Months later I tried again as I found common ground in Oprah Winfrey’s talks with Eckhart Tolle. I brought up to my father some of the topics and how they connected my personal beliefs with their Catholic teachings. “She’s a reverse racist.” He quipped.  The worst of it was seeing the anger he had in his eyes when I brought a book for him to read.  I saw he was reading a book written by John McCain during the last time he ran for the presidency.  So I brought Barack Obama’s “Audacity of Hope” into the house. I was hoping to switch books with him so we could find some common ground. After he told me to get that book out of the house, I stopped trying.

 

The Familial Reality
I know now that there is absolutely no common ground with my parents when it comes to beliefs about culture, religions and privilege. The Trumpian madness has just made things more clear than I ever wanted to know. I had put boundaries on visits with my extended family because of the gross chasm of different beliefs. Stupidly, I relaxed those boundaries this past holiday season and was hit in the face with more talk about how ‘we’ are getting ripped off by ‘those’ illegal immigrants; how heaven has a wall, so we should too, and how there is no such thing as racial injustice in this country. I left the Christmas family celebration feeling alienated and betrayed, painfully aware that there was nothing I could do to change their minds, and that they had become even more feverous in their beliefs. I liken it to a cultish fervor now.  And it doesn’t stop with my parents anymore. Many of my aunts and uncles share the same beliefs. Some even more radical.

I have spent the past month trying to come to terms with this new normal. I’m going to have to make tougher boundaries, because I cannot even fathom how to face the fact that my family are racists.  It hurts that they are so comfortable in their privilege that they refuse to see anything else. Like Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, they refuse to stop looking at shadows on the wall because they like what they see. Worse yet, I will always be treated as ‘different’ when I visit. Perhaps they think I’m too intelligent for my own good, or just have too big a bleeding heart for others. I don’t care anymore. I have spent too much of my time trying to bridge a gap that no one else is reaching a hand out to help with.  A gap that they claim I’ve put there myself in the first place.

 

Why The Covenant Catholic Incident Hits so Close To Home
I am no longer Catholic. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have feelings toward the Catholic Church and Christianity in general. Yes, many atrocities have happened in the church. I don’t deny that. But there are also very good people out there that are Catholic. My Grandparents were some of the good ones. My Great-Grandparents were as well. My sister teaches in Catholic school, and although she can be a bit bossy (she’s a Virgo after all) she is still a damn good woman. My Godparents were damn fine people who raised damn fine daughters of their own. I saw one of them post on Facebook about being just as appalled as I am of this incident.

But what still hurts is I already know that my parents are echoing the language of the priests and the parents of these boys. ‘That man was pounding his drum in my boy’s face.” “Why don’t you play all of the tape so you can see the real issue here and not make it about my son who was defending himself.” “We don’t know everything that happened here, so we can’t truly judge who was at fault.” Every time I hear or read someone say something in support of the discrimination both in this situation or anything that is pro-prejudice, it’s heard in my father’s voice. Because that is what he has become, and he doesn’t see anything wrong with it.

 

What Do I Do Now?
There is a reason why I haven’t gone to many marches, joined a resistance organization or done anything else but donate money since these things all began. The fact of the matter is I can’t. It just hurts too much. It hurts because I know people on the other side, and these people were supposed to be the loving, caring individuals that I grew up with, and should be living the truth they taught.

Now, it’s a lot worse for me.  Since Christmas I have been doing everything I can to not be overwhelmed at this new reality of boundaries I must now consider. I’ve already unfriended family on facebook, I refuse phone calls and only responded to the occasional texts. And even that little bit of communication feels uncomfortable as hell. But right now, I just don’t know what to do. Even my ancestral veneration work feels solidly off.

All I know for absolute certain is that I have to do what is best for me and my immediate family. I need to take care of myself. Those boundaries aren’t because I am being mean, not ‘listening to both sides,’ trying to ignore some ‘truth’ or because I’m just being a bitch.  They are there because of the pain I feel. I may even take a break from social media for awhile, even though I don’t really want to do that as it will also cut me off from facebook friends that have been my support. I’m still figuring it out as I go, but I am damn proud of myself for recognizing where I am at and that things do need to change, for better or for worse. (And to be perfectly honest, this post is either going to make things worse if they ever see it, or make things better because I’ll feel better once it’s posted.)

 

The Takeaway From All Of This
If you have read through all the way to now, thank you for reading. And just please know that there is such a thing as a good Catholic, and even a such a thing as a good Christian. Know that there are also good, caring individuals out there that for whatever reason, they refuse to step away from watching a shadow of what is really going on in the world. I may not agree with everything my extended family says, but they do try to care. And they, along with many others, don’t deserve hate. Perhaps pity, but not hate. Save that for the ones who are making the speeches and performing the actions that are further dividing people.

As for me and what I’m going to do in this new normal?  I’ll still keep my eye out while I’m in public, prepared for something that could go awry if someone decides they are going to go public with their racism. I’ll still donate to charities as much as I can, and I’ll still pray for justice and peace.  But that is really all I can do.

Roles in Paganism

My first foray into pagan communities was in the early 90s.  Back then the spirituality du jour was Wicca, and covens made up a bulk of the pagan communities.  There was the occasional sprinkling of heathens, but the ones that I knew well really didn’t do any worship of their deities like they do now. (To be honest, many of them were scared shitless of their Gods and basically worshipped in hopes they wouldn’t piss them off.)

So roles back then were pretty simple; either you were a priest or priestess, a high priest or high priestess (as in, ran your own group), a member of a coven or you were a solitary practitioner.  That was about it.  Many covens at the time, including my own, had a lot of training going on to ensure the laypeople would be able to participate and run circles of their own.  This made a natural transition for more people to step up and be a priest or priestess in time, and in a lot of ways was expected.

When I finally returned to being a physical member of a pagan community about 14ish years ago, I found a very different place than the one I left.  Gone were the ‘plug and play’ days of simply invoking different deities in a common ritual and calling it a specific genre or culture of witchcraft.  Now there are specific rituals and traditions for specific cultures, complete with their own hierarchical organizations.  Ancestral veneration is a huge part of practice, along with more flavors of beliefs in the pagan community than there are stars in the sky.

Because of this diversity, trying to group people together by a specific belief is pretty much impossible.  There are too many versions of ways to venerate a specific pantheon of Gods to even comprehend trying to find a universal way to worship.

So instead of trying to come together by belief, perhaps we should consider coming together by traits of beliefs.

I’ve referenced John Beckett’s Big Tent of Paganism a lot because it’s really the only way I have found to recognize differences, yet unite within a specific pagan community.  These are clear ideas that we can see where we ‘fit’, something that is still necessary in this pagan environment full of individuality. Pagans still want to feel like they belong and by looking at this tent set up, they can see the ways where they do.  So in essence, moving forward with other possible traits to compare and discuss personal beliefs is a good next step.  Perhaps it isn’t an additional rallying point for unification for Paganism itself, but it at least is something to discuss.

So in an effort to discuss common traits, I wondered about the clarification of roles; not by using specific cultural words, but using actual traits of roles that could span across multiple cultural differences.  The reason is that when we use specific cultural words to describe our pagan identity, the intent of those words is so watered down that their true definition doesn’t match what the person is intending to convey.

For an example, consider words like “Shaman” or “Witch”.  They describe intent of work, but what specific type of work? Are the people using the word “Shaman” to describe a core Shamanistic style of belief? Are they lineaged, or are they a hybrid of both lineage and core beliefs?  It’s the same with the word “Witch” – are you Wiccan, or are you another breed of witch from a different lineage, or do you use the term differently than it is currently defined?

So ultimately, when describing yourself, the cultural words being used end up describing very little about who we are, leaving confusion regarding personal belief and level of activity in a pagan community.  Another big issue is that utilizing cultural words to describe who we are could also be ‘fighting words’ to some who feel they were culturally appropriated in the first place (and that could very well be true).

 

Is it Time for Clearer Roles?
When trying to explain what role I play in a pagan community, I try to discuss the traits of my beliefs instead of discussing culture or using cultural words.  Many times the trait itself translates well across multiple cultures and also allows clearer communication of what it is I actually do.  The only time this isn’t the case is when I or someone else is discussing a specific title from a specific tradition, but I’m finding this to be more uncommon as the new norm of pagan spirituality seems to be that pagans are drawn to Gods and Goddesses of multiple cultures.  This can further confuse the situation.

In an effort to further look into the possibilities of defining roles based on traits instead of cultural references, I have written a draft of what those roles may look like, complete with my opinions and observations on each.  Many times these roles will most likely change as someone learns and grows, which is expected.  Our roles can also change because our Gods drag us into the new one kicking and screaming.  It’s also possible to stay in one or many of these specific roles for your entire life.  Either way is dependent on your relationship with your Gods, your personal goals and the needs of your community.

It is important to note that none of these roles are more important than the other.  I see many Pagans thinking that being a priest or priestess for deity is the ultimate goal that is to be strived for and that it will immediately gain the person a high status in the community.  This isn’t the case.  There are way too many complexities in today’s paganism for us to all be reaching out to be a priest or priestess, and in many ways, it’s a thankless job.  Further, in order to serve a healthy pagan community, we need to be striving to have the most variety as possible.

 

Priest/ess
While the role of priest and priestess are necessary, in many ways I feel like the titles have baggage left over from Abrahamic religions.  In Christian religions especially, a priest is someone who intercedes on your behalf to the Christian God.  A Christian priest is also someone of high status who is looked upon in times of need for wisdom and guidance.  In short, they tend their ‘flock’ of believers. In paganism, we don’t NEED to have someone intercede (most of the time).  Yet, possibly because of the Christian example, these two titles are coveted and used by many pagans even though they aren’t really ready for them.

I believe a person calling themselves a priest or priestess should have a very strong amount of training.  It is best that parts of this training come from an organized and established group or mentor-ship with a well-known teacher.  This is not a role that can be easily undertaken with information just gleaned by reading books.  A priest or priestess is not only a servant of the Gods they have oathed to, but they are also a servant of the pagan community as a whole.  Because of this, their training shouldn’t stop with just learning pagan ritual.  They should also have a solid understanding of mental health, training in techniques of nonviolent communication and learning differences (at the very least), and be familiar with mental health and physical resources in their local communities.

Priests and priestesses of a deity also have the responsibility of putting their own ego aside as much as possible. Someone who claims the title of priest or priestess must be able to serve others the way their God wants, or there could be serious consequences.  As a priest or priestess, you are now a spokesperson for your God – what they want is now what you need to do.  If this means that you have to approach something a different way to ensure unity of a group, then so be it.  Most of the people that claim this title that I know also do significant amounts of work in this role…LOTS of work.

Being a priest or priestess is not a status that will quickly bring honor and prestige.  By accepting that title you are choosing to do the dirty work of the God you work with. It means being there when someone calls at all hours of the day and night because they are afraid of some sort of sign they see. It means understanding and soothing fears, or working with someone in order to help them recognize their own shortcomings in a manner that they can learn and grow from. It could mean you are now leading a group and expected to teach in that leadership role. It could also mean you are going to be the one called to the hospital for spiritual aid when an emergency strikes (I have seen this happen!) or called to do the work of fellowship in a jail situation. (Yep! Seen this happen too!) Priests and priestesses need to also have patience, as there will be a significant amount of drama that they have to deal with on a regular basis.

Finally, if you call yourself a priest or priestess, you better know the legal ramifications in your state or country for reporting abuse or crimes. Many states require reporting of specific issues, and you may be found liable if you do not report something you were told by someone you were counseling.

If it sounds like I’m pushing back on using the titles of Priest or Priestess, I am. You have to know your stuff. I’ve seen way too many people use that title over the years but then not be able to back it up.

 

God/Goddess devoted
I believe a majority of the pagans in the US today could fit under this role. Many people aren’t called to a leadership role in the community.  Instead, they are comfortable in a background role. They are devoted to one or many Gods and Goddesses, and do offerings and work with that deity either in a group or alone.  They may or may not have a specific oath to a God or Goddess, but if they do, it’s a personal one that most likely doesn’t include extensive outreach and leadership in a pagan community.

There is nothing wrong with not being in a specific leadership role, being a lay member of a group or just being focused on solitary work. In my opinion, it is the people who are in the role of devoted practitioners that are the most valuable, as it is their needs that leaders need to understand in order to better focus the group as a whole. Without this insight, we who take leadership roles in our communities wouldn’t know how to properly meet the needs of the members, ultimately causing communities to splinter and break up.

Those who are devoted are the ones that show up and make the difference. They are the ones who are willing to engage and send energies.  They allow their energies in group settings to be crafted and weaved together to make things happen. These are the ones in the blot who form the bond of family, who make people feel included. And these are the ones that show up and make fellowship happen, even if it is in a simple social media group. Many times it is the devotees of a particular God or Goddess that become the initial contact for many new people coming into this religion, which is a very important role to be in as without new blood, groups grow to stagnate.

 

God/Goddess bound
There are a lot of people that I see binding themselves to a deity without even realizing it.  Loki is a great example of this.  Many times I think that has a lot to do with Tom easy-on-the-eyes Hiddleston, who plays Loki for the Marvel Cinematic Universe. People who don’t quite understand what they are getting into decide to become a Loki follower, thanks to his portrayal. They pledge themselves to Loki thinking they are binding themselves to what they see in the comics.  And then the flame-haired one appears.

I’m sure the phenomenon also happens thanks to Chris Hemsworth, Anthony Hopkins and probably Ian McShane too (American Gods is a pretty well-known novel after all). But even if you didn’t mean the words in that manner or are surprised at the results, once you have oathed to a God or Goddess you will need to do a lot of work to get out of what you said you would do.

Oaths are very important in the eyes of the Gods. They are not meant to be taken lightly. However, they do have their place, and many people take them for many different reasons. In my own case, the first oath I took to my God was one of intimacy.  My God opened me up and looked deep within my spirit, for part of my oath meant that nothing I had within my spirit was kept from him. In return, I learned from him how to transform those pieces of me that were broken and tortured.  And by doing so, I gained strength, knowledge about myself, wisdom, self-worth and a sense of peace that I never thought I would ever have.

Oathbound doesn’t always mean intimacy or even free will.  Other forms of binding include the God requiring it whether or not the person wanted it. It seems to me that it’s rare when a God ‘claims’ someone, but it does happen, especially in instances of karmic issues or of oaths that had been broken previously.  In these cases, the oath a person takes toward a God could be a way of reducing a karmic burden they carry. Another situation could be that the person may have a specific trait that the God or Goddess needs or requests to be used for a specific purpose. In those cases, if you can, negotiate heavily for what you get out of the deal.

No matter the reason, someone who is bound to a God or Goddess will be working heavily with that source of divinity for a long time. They may be pushed into situations they are not comfortable due to their God or Goddess wanting or needing something for them to do. And at times, those situations could mean they are working within the community to connect, protect, or to help others in other ways. At the very least, they may find themselves saying something to someone else without any idea where the thought came from.

This is also not a role or status to be taken lightly.  Regular discipline will be required to continue to nurture the connection between the devoted and devotee.  The job isn’t glamorous by any stretch of the imagination but in many ways, those who are oathbound receive significant satisfaction through their connections, even if originally they were not given a choice.

 

Seer
This is a category that I put myself into frequently. As an intuitive reader, it is my job to be able to see things that others cannot. It is also my job to be able to communicate those things to the requestor or client in the best manner possible. This also means I and other seers are of service to the community.  This can also mean that, like the role of a priest or priestess, there are times when someone is in need that I have to find a way to make it work to help, even if it means moving my schedule around to do it.

Seers help bring solace, understanding, healing, and connections to someone who (at times, desperately) needs it. Seers can help guide people when they are lost, connect them to their loved ones and make them feel like they have control of their lives. It is a hard job at times, especially when there is troubling news to share. But it is still a worthy role.

You don’t have to be reading cards, runes or doing astrological charts to be a seer. My husband is a great example. He has a seeing gift, but it only comes in spurts, which suits him just fine. Every once in a while he will pipe up with a saying or respond with a statement that isn’t ‘his’. It’s during those times I know he’s using his seeing gifts to bring necessary messages (that I’m probably not hearing because I don’t want to).

Although there are many fine, gifted seers out there, getting some sort of training in your preferred medium is an excellent idea.  A seer only gets better by doing their craft and honing their skills.  They also get better by receiving feedback from their clients and the community they serve. Seers are also another role that encounters people new to paganism, and they have to understand that and adjust their mannerisms appropriately. Finally, If the seer cannot provide additional help or information about the topic their client needs to discuss, it is very important for them to identify other contacts in the pagan community that the client can go to for aid.

Seers should also be aware of the local laws regarding obtained knowledge about situations that could be unlawful.  Not only is it unethical to not report this information, but it could seriously wreck your karma by not doing so.

 

 

Additional roles could be added, or some could be considered a sub-role to one of the categories above.  I’m not certain where a Ceremonial Magician would fall, although I think they may be almost in the middle of all four.  I myself recognize that I’ve fallen into every one of these roles sometime during my pagan work and sometimes more than one role at a time.  It’s all about what the community, the specific God or Goddess you work with and what your needs are.

I offer these thoughts as a possible way to connect with a fellow pagan; to more easily identify what your identity is without the utilization of possible cultural backlash.

I’d love to have other’s input, as always, and thanks for reading.