Melting Ice and Finding Imbolc
When I first joined the pagan mindset--wait this is entirely wrong. I was always this way, in love with nature (not so much bugs) but animals and plants were so cool. They still are. The problem for me was and until very recently happened to be the idea of theology.
I'm not sure what the idea of a 'god' or 'goddess' means to me. I couldn't fully comprehend christianity due to the lack of a sacred feminine. To make matters worse and so much more complicated I was raised in a staunch LDS household, and the balance of sacred texts was so unbelievably tilted to one side. In catholisim there is still the option of female saints to provide support. As in most cult followings, to question the teaching is to blaspheme. I questioned, a lot. So much in fact that I had to walk away from the faith of my parents or sink into a whirlwind depressed and controlled life style that would look something like this:
2. go on a mission for 2 years and proselytize as if your life depended on it.
3. Marry a good man (good being defined as someone who was properly ordained, still a virgin, who didn't drink/smoke/drink coffee, who also served a mission). Usually this marriage occurs in a temple, and you are expected marry young, before age twenty-one.
4. Propagate. Make babies like a rabbit. Seriously, but only in the "missionary position" sexy times are only for the married and in the making of babies. This is expected socially by the age of twenty-five.
5. Be a house-wife and mother, with not expectations to advancement in the religion, as a mother there isn't anything more i can do but make sure my little offspring brood repeats steps 1-4 in an endless and unsatisfying cycle that encourages no thoughts other than those included in the 'teachings'.
(not to mention all the levels of secrecy, initiation, etc. you are expected to be involved in. and if you fail at any one level, the social judgement is so bad it has led to suicide in some cases. A friend in high school was so clinically depressed she was on several different medications and I could see how the oppressive rules of her parents 'guiding' her to repeat steps 1-4 were slowly killing her soul.)
The fourteen year old girl who'd spent her summers running barefoot through the forest all summer, lived a life so very different from the prescribed version I was supposed to live. Being so free for so long in mind and soul, how could I not rebel when upon coming of age the bonds of expectation (steps 1-5) were set on my shoulders?
The last straw was when I asked about the female leader during church meetings. Why were men so revered? Wasn't I, in my exemplary skills as a horse rider, a leader, a writer, a world traveler, as a woman, worth anything more than what my womb could produce? If I was created in god's image than either he had a vagina and breasts or there was a female running around. I had farm animals, I knew perfectly well what went on in the stud barn and then the following spring. No one could give me the answer. So I found it myself, and I also found a lot of prejudice, fear, and hate along the way.
No one ever showed me fear, prejudice or hate. I found it in myself. Trying to break away from generations of expectation is difficult. Its like breaking glass, you get torn on the edges. You feel like everything you've ever been told is a lie. And you are right, a lot of it is. (For more information on why I left the LDS church, my reasons are very similar to those found here.
The truth is best said by Carl Sagan:
“One of the saddest lessons of history is this: If we’ve been bamboozled long enough, we tend to reject any evidence of the bamboozle. We’re no longer interested in finding out the truth. The bamboozle has captured us. It’s simply too painful to acknowledge, even to ourselves, that we’ve been taken. Once you give a charlatan power over you, you almost never get it back.”–Carl Sagan
I felt this pain on behalf of every person who'd been hoodwinked. For my clinically depressed friend, for leaders, for the bishop who told my mother she would never go to heaven unless she made her adult child attend church. It still hurts that my loved ones live under such, as I find it, cruel judgement.
I was so cold. Emotionally I had very little to do with people in my area. I think if it weren't for my stubborn horse, and the wild mountains surrounding my home I would still be frozen.
The thaw was slow. I studied witchcraft, general pagan topics, and finally through finding and reaching out to my local pagan meet up (SLC Witches Meetup) I found Druidry. I also found many friends, people I sincerely did not have to hide from. I will forever be in their debt. Where I had read about the goddess, the god, and nature divine, these wonderful people brought me to the sacred groves. This has taken years, and its not over yet.
The wheel turns and Imbolc is exactly a week from today. The ice that once shielded my heart is nearly gone. It will always be there, a reminder of the utter dark that was my safe haven for so long. But for now, it is enough to feel the cold burning away and smell the scent of new growth on the canyon breeze.
In the literal sense, Imbolc is the time of the snowdrop, the first flower of spring. Its also a feast day, usually in honor of Brigid. Its also a time of hope and when the light truly seems to become brighter. The child of light who has been nurtured during the winter is growing stronger. I can relate and I'm anxious to find myself a little warmer this spring and work toward my future goals as a homesteader who is mostly self-sufficient and is that much closer to the land.
More important than all these things, this is a time of planning and true preparation. The work of the year begins. Also, my friend's goats are giving birth, the horses seem ever more restless, and the expectation for this year is like a great holding of breath, ready for an exhalation of laughter and joy.
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