Mike Driver
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
art blog(derogatory)
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Xuebing Du
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trying on a metaphor
KIROKAZE
will byers stan first human second
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blake kathryn
YOU ARE THE REASON
#extradirty
JVL
Monterey Bay Aquarium
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@lifeisdivinity1
First card in my daily tarot draw summer project, which I started a day late due to laziness. Perfect card for today. I feel gently hugged by the universe. Will soon be posting details about my project, as well as where my path might take me over the next few months.
Several years ago, my grandparents went to Egypt.
My grandmother, a bona fide cat lady, got me a Bastet necklace as a gift. She knew that I loved Egyptian things (mostly on account of obsessively watching Yu-Gi-Oh!) and cats, but not that I would one day wander onto a path where Bastet would be such an important image to me. At some point within the past year or so, I started wearing the necklace every day. I even wore it to my senior prom.
Two weeks ago, I went to a fencing tournament at West Point. I was wearing my Bastet necklace, as I'd stopped really ever taking it off. When I was done fencing for the day, I changed out of my whites and noticed it was no longer around my neck. But where could it have gone? I thought I would've noticed if it had fallen off while I was fencing, or that it would've just gotten caught in my gear, only to very obviously fall to the floor when I was changing my clothes. But I hadn't seen it. So maybe it was in a parking lot, or in the hotel room where I'd stayed the previous night. One thing was for certain: I didn't have it anymore.
My partner insisted that I retrace my steps and try to hunt it down, even though I insisted it wasn't important. "It is important," they insisted. "You wear it all the time!" I pointed out that that doesn't mean it's important. I eventually did discover the broken chain near my bag, but not the Bastet charm. And honestly, I wasn't super concerned about finding it. Let me tell you why.
I have a lot of stuff. I don't need most of it, no matter how fond of it I might be or what significance it might have. This necklace was just another part of the stuff. It's not injurious to me to lose it. I don't need it to survive. Losing it doesn't shake my faith in the world or anything. It's just an object, and I lost it. It happens.
There was definitely a time, not too long ago, when parting with any of my belongings was very hard for me. I didn't even want to get rid of my favourite pair of jeans when they became too snug for me to zip comfortably. But at some point, the triviality of physical possessions started to dawn on me, and it made letting go of trinkets, jewelry, and clothing a lot less daunting.
Here's what I think when a funny button falls off my bag or I lose a piece of jewelry. . . Someone's gonna find it, right? And hey, I know I liked it, so maybe they'll like it, too. You can even leave your cool little doodads around on purpose, and you won't be the only one doing so. A lot of people think this way.
And in case you think I'm just being silly: I once lost a rather cute monster pin at school and was later pleased to notice it being used as a locker decoration. Seriously. People who find your cool stuff are gonna enjoy it. Don't worry about it.
I won't be getting a new necklace for myself. I still have my faith, and I still have me. I don't need an abundance of objects to maintain my faith or myself. I am, admittedly, very far from being a minimalist, but I know that meaning doesn't lie in possessions. I don't really know where it lies. Does it lie in a God with a capital G? Does it lie in the earth? Does it lie in my thoughts? In my health? In other people? Maybe I'll figure it out. So far, it looks like I have to make my own meaning. Maybe everyone has to make their own. But I suppose that's a topic for another post entirely. . .
Where do you find your meaning? Is it represented by any objects that are important to you?
Lúnasa Days by Drew Jacob
Howdy! It has been a while. Today I present to you a brief review of a book I read about a month ago. (I know, I know. I'm super on top of things.)
“Where you headed?”
It was a hard question.
“Well, what do you do?”
Vagabond. Can you say vagabond? Is that a career?
He looked aside.
“I cast spells,” he said.
The man had some work for him.
Drew Jacob says on his blog. . .
Will you like it? History tells me that:
If you are a Pagan or polytheist you will like it.
If you work magic, you will like it.
If you’re sick of troped fantasy and want something with more nutrition, you will like it a lot.
If you don’t like shorter books you will be left cursing my name and wishing for more.
The writing is direct and minimal, which my Mom hates and everyone else likes.
If you’re a lesbian, you will not like it. (Seriously, 3/3 so far! What!) I would love someone to prove me wrong.
It is indeed a short book, and it is indeed driven by pagan and polytheist themes. It offers a view of magic that is different from that usually presented in fiction. It is told succinctly, which at times makes it feel more like a list of events than a plot-driven story.
In short, I loved it for its very real portrayal of magic, but I hated it for its very uncomfortably written romance. You can see my slightly more detailed Amazon review here.
Fun fact: Amazon is literally giving it away, today only. If you think you might be interested, download the free Kindle edition here. You've nothing to lose!
Drew Jacob is a polytheist priest and location-independent adventurer, practicing what he calls the heroic faith. To find out more about him and his travels, visit http://roguepriest.net/.
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.
O_O
yesss i found it again! one of my all time favourite reads.
Philosophy went to the max right here
OI SCROLL BACK UP AND READ ALL OF IT!
I was really intrigued by this
What is my life without my mountains?!
Pagan/Wicca/Witchcraft/Nature blogs reblog this? I need people to follow!
paganblogs.tumblr.com
Wicca is just one of many flavors of Paganism.
“Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet.”
Thich Nhat Hanh (via spiritual-shanti)
Books!
I bought two books a couple weeks ago.
Llewellyn's Sabbats Almanac was half price because it's last year's, but I figure the same basic themes get rehashed every year. I'll be reading it at some point in the next few weeks, and I'll be bringing it to college with me for inspiration for organizing events for the pagan group.
I've been interested in reading Jesus Through Pagan Eyes for a while now, since it might be able to help bridge the gap between me and my mother.
I'll post again soon about some other books I have, and I'll definitely write a review of Jesus Through Pagan Eyes once I read it.
Blessed be! xo
Wicca by Scott Cunningham
I noticed this book has been getting a bit of flack on tumblr lately, so I thought I might as well offer my two cents.
This is the first book about Wicca/paganism I read. I didn't go shopping for it, but it caught my eye in a pile at my local indie bookseller. I read it nearly a year ago, so it's not fresh in my mind. However, I would just like to talk briefly about what thoughts it has left with me for all this time.
Things I liked:
introduction defining magic itself as something natural
diagrams suggesting possible altar setups
acknowledgement that the Wheel of the Year mythology is symbolic and not meant to be taken as fact
glossary! :-D
Things I didn't like:
occasional expression of attitude of superiority over non-Wiccans
outdated in some aspects (but hey, the book's kinda old)
statements such as "The following tools are recommended" followed by extensive and specific lists (perhaps this is silly of me, but I think it's more important to find your own ritual tools with personal meaning rather than go out with a shopping list)
My favourite thing:
moon and sun chants in chapter two to help you connect with deities and the natural world
I did give it five stars on Goodreads back when I read it, so I guess I consider it to be worth reading.
Any thoughts? Whether you love this book or hate it, feel free to share in the comments!
The sea provides a healing magic that goes beyond drugs and prescriptions. It forces us to become involved with it. The ocean draws on the strength of plants from the Earth, the water that is a part of all life and the mineral salts from which our bodies are created.
