The Explanation

I have spent an enormous amount of time trying to put into words what I believe. Every time I feel like I've failed. Be it written or spoken, when I try to articulate the feelings, the deep meanings; I come up hideously short.

Or even more ridiculously sounding like a flake. Which does worry me more than it should. When it comes down to it, what am I trying to prove? Who do I need to impress?

It hit me today.

I'm trying to impress myself. There is a very logical and cynical part of me that thinks everything should be black and white. Everything should fall into neat little categories of true and untrue, right and wrong, good and evil. But it doesn't. Nor does faith fit into any neat little category I can file under a simple heading.

I have spent a lot of time lately feeling like garbage. I felt as if I had failed at some unattainable ideal and I should just quit. Since I could never be the best I should be nothing at all, just a leaf thrown along in a raging current.

I am a fool for thinking and feeling that way.

While it is true that I cannot change the raging current of the river, I can choose to shoot the rapids instead on agonizing over the bumpy ride. I can revel in the spray on my face and the sound of water over rocks, instead of holding myself so tightly in fear that my bones shatter like glass against the boulders.

I cannot control the current of my life either. It will be what it will be. Everyone around me has their own plan and their own path they are following and I need to accept this.

Well, that and shoot my demons in the head instead of trying to placate them.

I do not doubt there will be death throws as the demons die. I will still feel the desire to categorize myself, my beliefs and the things around me. But I am the one in control of my own self, of my soul, of my spirit. And no matter what happens, whether it be a calm place where the water widens out and moves slowly and peacefully, or a plunging waterfall . . . I will be as strong as my life requires. And then just a little more, for good measure.

The Path Into the Wood.

Although in my very first post, I spoke of faith and of my path, I know I have never taken the time to share what that means, what it is. I have spent far too much time lamenting reality and bemoaning my existence.

Enough of that nonsense.

Now it is time for the business of living and being alive. And as a wise man once said, (that wise man being Joseph Campbell, probably the closest thing I've had to mentor despite his dying before I had ever heard of him) "Life is without meaning. You bring the meaning to it. The meaning of life is Whatever you ascribe it to be. Being alive is the meaning."

I call myself a hedge witch, a pagan.

My parents were recovering Catholics. But I was baptized to keep the peace, and when my dad was sick when I was a kid, I went to church regularly with my grandparents. However, I never was involved in any religious anything really, never had first communion, confirmation, etc. . . . but it felt like something was missing. I had a lot of friends who's parents were highly religious and I joined in, tagged along, joined and participated in various Christian youth groups and tried very hard to become a good Christian.

I was a member of a WELS (Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod) youth group in the beginning of high school. And it was all beginning to seem rather hollow. By this times I'd had several occult type experiences, seen things that Christianity couldn't explain except with "the devil" which seemed like a bad excuse to me. But I kept trying. Until the day I got into a discussion with the pastor/vicar/whatever the heck he was that ran the youth group. He told me that without question, my uncle, who is homosexual, was going to hell. Didn't matter if he was a good, decent honorable man. He was going to hell. Period.

And I said that any god who would punish someone for LOVING could kiss my ass.

That was 1992.

I went about as an occultist/agnostic for a time after that until I discovered Taoism. The teachings about balance and interconnectedness really spoke to me. But as hard as I tried, it still felt lacking and a bit sterile.

Then I went nuts for a while. Literally. I essentially had a breakdown and hid under my bed for 3 years. Only half out of hiding, I was wandering about the library and picked out two things, Drawing Down the Moon by Margot Adler and The Masks of God on audio tape, the interviews with Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers. I read the book and drove around in my car listening to the tapes. I listened to the program "Love and the Goddess" and had to pull the car over for all the sobbing.

I knew I'd finally found the start of a new path. That was 1997.

It's evolved from then, certainly, but that still feels like one of those "moments of clarity" that come so rarely that they are worth celebrating. . . . but frankly, at that point I was so messed up, the fact that I over came my constant fear of everything to start on this path. . . . only something so in-tune with my deepest self could have done that.

To be honest, I worried for a while that my new found faith was a phase, but it was not. Amazingly, my faith has changed, but never wavered since that moment.

Now there is more to it than this. There were many nudges and signposts along the way, leading me towards . . well leading my on my journey anyway. We'll get to that.

"You enter the forest at the darkest point, where there is no path. Where there is a way or a path, it is someone else’s path. You are not on your own path. If you follow someone else’s way, you are not going to realize your potential."

~Joseph Campbell