Yesterday I started my job, and it was just swell. But by the time I got home and got finished with my homework, I barely had enough time to eat before I fell asleep. Thank goodness my husband understands and just let me sleep. Today I’m back at the grind, but also, I’m back to posting about things that mean worlds to me. I wanted my first post in this last month to be about something I hold very dear to my heart: beliefs. And before I jump right in, I’m going to preface by saying that these truths are my truths. Everyone has different experiences and that leads them down different paths. These are the ones for me. And therefore, you are free to make your own conclusions, but it will not affect mine because I have lived them, I have experienced and grown as an individual.
As you can see, I changed my blog title to To Be An Equal. I got to thinking, isn’t that what my point is anyway? Pointing out reasons why we should all be accepting and help foster the levels of equality amongst all peoples? So I wanted something that reflected that. Also, I want to open up the option of suggestions. If you have something that you wish to see me rant about from an anthropology student with a deep love of people and bring in facts and whatever, let me know. I’m always up for a greeat discussion. So anyway, back to my story.
So where to begin? The beginning, of course.
I went to church in an exceptionally small town, so small I won’t even name it because you wouldn’t know it. It had, in its hayday, 100 people, but most of the times that I remembered were 40-50. As a small child (of 4 or so), I was unfamiliar with the ways of the church, and my parents took me there. I remember one Sunday the teacher brought in a Qur’an and told us that in order to defeat the devil, we had to know who he was and told us to rip up the book. This also happened with the Book of Mormon, I believe. Later the papers were lit on fire. I was told what behavior was acceptable, including the need to squash down questions. When I was a preteen, I had several questions. Now, I was not asking these questions to be a delinquent. I thought that the questions I had would aid me in being a better Christian. (If women in the Bible have their heads covered, is hair enough, or should I have a covering? If anger is a sin, how can God be without sin if he got angry at the Jews…a lot? andan assortment of those questions.) I went to the pastor, because I assumed that he would have the most answers. He told me I shouldn’t ask questions and just accept God on faith alone, because that’s what true Christians did.
Obviously that didn’t jive with me. I was an inquisitive person, with feelings and concerns who got shot down. I didn’t like hurting books. Books couldn’t harm people, could they? They were just words. (I admit, that was naive of me. But really, there is no reason to be murderous towards a book of peace.) And on top of that, the people there judged you on what you wore to service, and I witnessed one girl get removed for wearing a tank top and shorts (It was the only pair of clothes she had without holes or stains.) So by the time I was 17, I was out of church, I didn’t really want to return, but I went occasionally for my mother, although we did switch churches. I was saved, baptised, I was a member of the first church and everything.
I entered college soon after and began to find something missing in my life. I wasn’t sure I was okay with the church stereotype I’d been given, and needed to find something else. I took a lot of quizzes, looked online and decided maybe I belonged to a UU (Universal Unitarianism) church. But I would find out that I didn’t belong there really either. I just didn’t like the way that everyone seemed to need a scape goat. SO I didn’t stay.
I stumbled onto Wicca through a series of bizarre recollections. I’d come across an article in the 90s about paganism from like 17 magazine! And I remembered reading it and relating, so I looked into it one my laptop. I alomst immediately loved what I read. It was a transition period, mind you. I had gone from one supreme deity with (as had been taught to me) a sexist attitude, a vengeful anger problem and jealousy issues to many deities and a connection to the energy of the earth, as well as the loss of a need for forgiveness. I could be whatever person I wanted to be. And the pat that made the most sense was theline in the rede (the “bible-like belief code) that said “And it harm none, do as ye will.” I had a whole new world open up to me, and I could still have a moral ground to thrive on.
But as all good things do, this phase came to an end. I felt the pressure to be a supply hoarder: candles, books, incense, herbs, everything. It soon began taking over my life and I felt suffocated by it, just as I had with Christianity. There was also a reverse sexism that I understood much later: against men. We spent so much time focusing on the feminine that the masculine became marginalized. So I began my search once more. But where would I end up? It turns out, as a druid. Well, with hoodoo tendencies, anyway.
So what do I believe now? Well, let me explain it to you.
According to the teachings of druidry, there are three aspects of your life that are of utmost importance: wisdom, creativity and love. I think that describes my life perfectly. I shift between the acceptance of many deities and the focus on just my personal one: Danu. I found her through the Morrigan. Danu is the three aspect mother goddess. I can go into all that more if you’d like, but for today I will leave it there. I can also talk about after death, before life, and really all the other spiritual things in a different post, if anyone wants to know, but I think I’ve gone on quite long enough so I’m going to use the rest of this post to dispell some stereotypes about witches and magick folk, as well as hopefully answer some questions.
Do I work magick? Doesn’t everybody? Have you ever made a wish on a birthday candle, a star or a dandelion? But yes, I do personally do so. I pray to my ancestors, I speak with the great mother, I use tarot cards and crystals, I have a juju bag for protection. How often? Every single day.
Do I curse people? No. That’s a personal choice, but I still hold by the “do not harm” rule. Do I have the capacity? Yes. Do I? No. I just don’t feel right about it.
Do I have a religious book? No. Not really. Although I do have in possession two bibles, one qur’an, a book of shadows and a cook book (that one I use most)
Would I ever go into a church? I do. Not regularly, but before I moved out of my parents’ house, I would go to functions held in churches. It doesn’t bother me. I like to think that the Christian God would approve of my attempts to be a good human being. I do, however, make jokes while I’m there about being struck by lightning or spontaneous combustion. It’s just to relieve the stress.
Do I face any discrimination? Well, yea. Doesn’t everybody? I’ve had people give me judgey looks and glares while wearing religious symbols, as well as the occassional ignorant comment. Mostly it’s just people who don’t understand that worshipping nature is my fact, just as Jesus is theirs.
Anyway, I hope this has been an informative look into the beliefs of a religious dabbler. I’m sure it will come up more again. Thanks for reading!