Rochester PPD

Rochester Pagan Pride Day was this weekend! And it was made out of awesome and rainbows. I tried my hand at being a vendor this year. It’s been in the back of my head for years – I like woodburning, and making things, and the things I make don’t really look like most of the other widgets currently on the craft market. I really want to do it again. I met a whole ton of other people, vendors and guests alike, and I got to talk to people all day. I also broke even, and considering I’ve barely got my shit together, in the display and inventory-side of things, that’s a fairly good sign. I named my stall Pennywoods on the fly when I filled out the form, and as you can see, I liked the name enough that I changed my blog too. :) I may set up an etsy at some point, or some other website, since it was requested a few times, but it may take a bit. The second-to-best part of doing this was finding out what most people are actually looking for in the wand-and-rune-set market, and I need to adjust and experiment on some of my designs. The best part? I’m setting up a coffee moot! There’s a few organized pagan churches in Rochester, and Psychic’s Thyme runs classes, but the only social moot is in Henrietta and it’s on a Thursday once a month. A lot of people can’t make it, and there’s no other organized thingy for just getting together and chatting. I find it frustrating. So I set up a Facebook event, printed out some business-type cards, and passed them out all day. There was a lot of interest! So, if you’re in the Rochester area, look it up – Rochester Pagan Coffee Moot (creative, huh?) – and if you’re not, wish me luck! Blessed Be! Pennanti

Y Chromosome Troubles

TaunTaun here again. Pagan pride day was overall a pretty good experience, but it always seems to bring up a particular issue for me. Most branches of paganism I've run across generally tend to have a feminine-centered type of outlook, what with the whole goddess thing, which is both fine, and expected. I HAVE had a few of the more militant Dianics get kind of nasty at me, but if we judged everyone by their extremists, I don't think there'd be anything left in the world to like.

Anyway, pagan pride day. Lots of goddess-oriented things for sale, goddess chants, goddess-centric groups, so on and so forth. There wasn't any actual discrimination or anything of the kind, just sort of a general lack of mention of the god. Which has always bothered me. I understand a lot of modern pagan traditions got their start in the 60s and 70s, so they were tied up with the feminist movements of the time. But it's 2011. I feel like the tables have turned all the way around to the point where pagan men are just sort of a "oh yeah, sure, I guess you can come too" add-on to goddess worship. At some of these things I feel like I'm the only one holding it down for the Horned One. We were married in sight of and in the name of the lord and lady, and our vows were said together, as "We do". I guess I'd like the same kind of experience out of the rest of my religious goings-on.

I don't know, maybe I'm not looking in the right places or I haven't gone to the right rituals(the Great Rite stays in-house, thank you very much). But as pagans, we do our best to be accepting and non-judgemental of others. So why, some days, do I feel like we don't extend our own the same courtesy? I've hit this particular brick wall a number of times now, with varying levels of vehemence running the gamut from things as innocuous as my wife getting invited to "Connecting to the goddess within you" workshops to a death glare that said "I was talking to your owner, male pig."

Don't get me wrong, I haven't got any problems with my relationship with the goddess, either in physical form or spiritual, when I say hi out at the fire at night. But as a fairly active guy, it's generally the god that I high-five after a big accomplishment. What I really want to know is, what's wrong with that, and why can't I find anybody else who does the same?

end transmission

The Mists of Avalon

I read The Mists of Avalon for the first time this week. I’m pretty sure that makes me a bad pagan, that it took me so long to get around to it. My mother owned it when I was in high school – it was on her shelf, I just never picked it up.

It may make me an even worse pagan that I didn’t really like it. Don’t get me wrong, there were things in the plot that I enjoyed. Morgaine’s analysis of the Guinevere/Lancelot relationship was one of the most cynical, biting things I’d ever seen. Lancelot and Arthur being implied totally gay for each other, and simply transposing it through Guinevere because it was the only acceptable way to express it, was also an interesting touch.

But the most sympathetic character, for me, in the whole book was Morgause, and she was evil as shit. Half the female characters spend all their time simply doing what they’re told and obeying some higher authority, be it their husband, lord, priestess, or priest. The other half get their stuff together and organize or pressure authority – and then spend most of their internal, quiet moments bemoaning the fact that they have to live under the stress of being in charge, and envying how much simpler it would be if they could just be like the first half. They daydream about how much more pleasant and enjoyable being under someone else’s thumb would be. If only they didn’t have to make all these pesky choices!

And then there’s Morgause, who makes decisions and lives with the consequences. Spends no time on self-pity. When she makes a mistake, she shrugs and makes the best of it, or fixes it, but spends almost no energy on whining about how circumstances made her make the mistake, and she’s got no way out. I don’t care if she practices black magick, I’d rather hang with her than anyone else. Yeah, I know, she’s basically a sociopath. It’s really f-ed up, that the only confident, grounded female character is psychotic.

Even Arthur, as he makes massive mistakes, owns his own problems. Everyone else, I just sort of want to take a bat to their head.

It’s the most anti-feminist ‘feminist’ book I’ve ever read, and I had some hard-core problems with the one feminist class I took in college. (For many of the same reasons. Defining an entire gender by supposedly shared weaknesses and traumas is just plain weird.)

Well, at least I read it.

Blessed Be,
Pennanti

Monday Morning Rant: The Wise Mistik

(Yes, it's Thursday. But I wrote it on a Monday two weeks ago!)

This one is getting filed under “Pagan Pet Peeves”, though I could probably throw it under “New Age Personalities” just as easily. There’s a certain kind of person out there, who I’ve run into several times, who enters a ‘mode’ when they’re doing something New Agey. Their voice gets softer, higher pitched, and very, very dreamy. They stare deep into my eyes upon meeting, in an apparent attempt to “truly connect” to my inner person, and then promptly spend the rest of the conversation staring off blankly into space.

Honestly, if I thought these people were actually high, I’d cut them some slack. But they’re not. They’re acting out this bizarre interpretation of a wise mystic, filled with perfect trust and perfect love and oh-so-slightly more connected to karmic wafting than me. This is generally the purview of tarot readers, reiki practitioners, and teachers – anyone who’s trying too hard to gently remind everyone that they know more than their customers or students.
The Dalai Lama does not act like this, folks, and everyone who does drives me up the goddam wall.

They try so hard to “connect”, that they completely miss making an actual connection. Normally, I stand up and walk away. (I understand it’s part of some people’s shtick at Ren Faire, and I can appreciate a good marketing ploy, but still, eurgh) If I can’t though – if I’m in a class, or a workshop, or talking to someone nearby when Wise Mistik (sp intentional) pipes up – it brings out a very particular side. I’m not really trolling, at least not to the standards of the internet, but dry quips, pithy asides, and blasé statements meant for a giggle just start flowing freely. I can see it starting to slowly grate, but mostly I’m just aiming for a snerk. Maybe even a real smile.

When I want to connect to someone, I smile. If I’m really trying, then I try to make them laugh. Laughter is pretty much at the root of human connection, and if it’s uncomfortable, then something is wrong. Laughter does not undermine connection or understanding, it fosters it. Staring deeply into strangers’ eyes, while uttering breathy statements and nodding sagely, is the opposite of connection. It’s pantomime, a monologue designed with pauses for other actors to put in their own monologue bits, but no one is interacting.

Actually, I’ve seen Christian priests, and especially Sunday school teachers, who do the same thing. So I guess it’s not a New-Age specific personality, but I could do with it being a little less prevalent!

Ok, rant complete. Slack returning in 3…2…1…

Blessed Be!
Pennanti

On Weddings and Sermons

Busy couple of weeks, June is! Went to a wedding two weeks ago, then had Taun-Taun’s birthday and our anniversary. All was happy and good, I'm pleased to say.

The wedding, though, that was interesting. We gathered in Connecticut to witness the union (on the shoreline, how sweet is that?) of The Manly Italian and The Amazon. I’ve known The Amazon since the beginnings of college, and The Manly Italian only slightly less time. They’ve been together for years, and there are few partnerships better matched in love and aggression. As it happens, the Amazon is an atheist and the Manly Italian is Christian. She went with the religious ceremony only for her sweetie ad her in laws. She was not converting, a point that they’ve both been cheerfully clear on for a long time.
Too bad no one told the priest. (I’d call her a priestess, but that’s too much a term of respect for me.) Having been asked to take the term “good Christian wife” out of the vows, Priesty used it anyway. The Amazon actually broke out into giggles halfway through her vows, and dropped the adjective, much to everyone's amusement. Then, having successfully quoted the bible verse they requested (The one about Love being kind and never angry, or something like that. I suppose, in context, it comes up somewhere in the story of Ruth. Standard wedding fare, nevertheless.) Priesty went on to tell the whole tale of Ruth and what a good example for this couple it was.

At least, according to the priest, Ruth gets married and leaves her entire family and way of life behind. Her husband quickly dies, and she cleaves to her mother in law, taking on her new family’s customs and beliefs. Wink, wink. Nudge. Get it yet? About this time, our two lovebirds are obviously mouthing to each other at the altar, “Did you ask for this?” “No! She should be done already!” and Priesty quickly backed off, perhaps realizing that the bride was considering taking the microphone away, if only so the supposedly 15-minute, now 30 minutes ceremony would be done and the standing crowd could sit down.

It was cleverly done, Priesty's sermon, as the entire crowd was split between the twin thoughts of, “Did you really just tell The Amazon that she’s a Christian now whether she likes it or not?” and “Wait, can you go back to the part where the groom dies in, like, 5 minutes? And explain how that’s a good wedding story?” So no one could really object.

So, all in all, she managed to be both bizarre and completely inappropriate**, while not dampening the fact that everyone was extremely happy to see this couple get wed. The rest of the wedding was standard – too much to drink, lots of dancing, and some extremely excellent cake. A good Christian wedding, indeed.

Speaking of which, I’m terribly happy I got married last year, because I live in New York State, and there’s not going to be a wedding venue unbooked for a long, long time this year! I campaigned with The Human Rights Campaign to help make it happen – and while we couldn’t sway Robach (I’ll remember you come Election time, buddy.), we totally flipped Alesi! (I’ll remember you too, but in a far more pleasant fashion.) Rochester area helped make it happen, and I couldn’t be more pleased.

Blessed Be,
Pennanti

**Though not as inappropriate as a guest, at a different wedding last year, shouting ‘Fornication!” into the microphone several times at the reception. He really set the bar with that one.

I havn't heard from you in forever!

The title looks like a poor excuse for not posting, but it's not. (I have many poor excuses for not posting, but that's not one of them!)

Have you ever been randomly contacted by someone, out of the blue, that you havn't spoken with in years? I'm not talking about the facebook friend request - that's a split second of drunken nostalgia, generally, and forgotten by both parties just as quickly. I'm speaking of the text, or email, or phone call, that comes out of the blue.

Me, I'm a suspicious person by nature. When this happens, I invariably string the conversation along, wondering, "What do you want??" until some kind of answer presents itself. Except when it doesn't.

A few weeks ago, I received a text out of the blue, early Friday morning. "Happy Shabbos!"

Ooookay. After a brief flurry of "wrong number", "Isn't this Pennanti?", etc, it was established that this was from a kid I knew from college that I haven't spoken to in over 5 years. And this was how he chose to break the ice. Happy Shabbos.

We texted back and forth all morning, as he subtly and not subtly worked his way around to whatever he was wondering. He quickly established that he was happily married, so that's the Number One reason smacked down. (On a side note, that may be why I'm cynical. 80% of these 'random' catch-ups have boiled down to "So, are you single? No? Peace!")

After talking about being near rabbi-school completion, he finally sent an almost straight-forward question - "So, are you still on the same spiritual resume path as when I last knew you?"

Something about the question tweaked, in my mind. I knew, *this* is what he was trying to work around to. 'Yep, still pagan!"

And then he disappeared again. I didn't bother sending any follow-up texts - the silence pretty much answered my question, about what he wanted.

But it still irks me a bit. Who contacts someone after half a decade, just to ask if they're still the same religion? Rabbi-boy, apparently. What is up with that?

Blessed Be,

Pennanti

Beltane

Beltane is my favorite celebration of the year.

And for once, it's not about the food. Some of it is the activities - our maypole has, invariably, been accomplished in the dark, while drunk, and generally around a basketball pole. It's the final capstone of the evening though, so that makes sense.

Let me start at the beginning. A proper Beltane, for us, involves several friends, and the woods. This year, lacking a friend with the proper woods, we'll be camping. For several years, we attempted to attend the local Beltane festival, but as it waned in entertainment year after year, we finally gave up and just straight up have our own party.

First, we barbecue. It's a good impetus to bring the fire in right off the bat, and gives everyone a solid chance to start eating and talking. This is the warm-up of several hours.

When dusk is still a few hours away, the face painting begins. Everyone gets appropriately fierce faux-tribal markings of their choice, and we have accidentally roped in up to 15 non-pagans simply by having so much fun doing it. Beer, mead, and wine appears at this juncture, if it hasn't already.

Then, the Feats of Strength. We don't know how this started, but it's been an annual tradition for just about four years. The men-folk decide upon three or four events - push-ups, pull-ups, arm wrestling, real wrestling, whatever is appropriate to the attendees, and proceed to cavort for the women-folks amusement. The women-folk are the final judges and arbiters of all contests. Also, once, the administers of first aid to massive rug burns.

By the time the Feats have been accomplished, and the arguing is done, it's dusk and time for the bonfire. Fire goes up, people seat themselves, and more eating commences, along with story-telling. Story-telling ranges from mythologies and tales appropriate to the olden times to "You would not BELIEVE what did last weekend. It was a DISASTER..."

Eventually, this morphs into toasts, boasts, and oaths. Toasting seems to follow Newtonian law in that, the longer it goes on, the more force is required to stop it. It's a momentum thing.

At some point, as the fire burns down, we remember that we havn't done the Maypole yet. Attaching the prepared ribbons (or yarn, or scraps) to the basketball hoop is sometimes accomplished at this point, but if we were lucky, someone remembered to declare a Pole Shimmy as one of the Feats, and it's just waiting for us.

Then, everyone goes to bed. Or, 'bed', as the case may be.

I understand that some people get very irritated by the prevalence of sex in Beltane, but to me, trying to take it out is like trying to take Santa Claus out of Christmas. There are some hard-asses who succeed, in both cases, but it's kind of missing the larger point. Christmas is about giving and receiving (Christmas, Yule, Mid-Winter, every single mid-cold season holiday of greater Europe, as far as I can tell.) Beltane is about sex. It's about fertility, and kicking off the growing season, about creativity and sparks and energy. It's about fire.

As I said, it's my favorite. It's quintessentially about life, and passion, and growth. It is, for me, so unconnected to any Christian American holidays that it holds no other connotations. This is MY holiday, the one I get to tell other people, "Sorry, I'm busy. Maybe next time." The holiday that takes precedence over other obligations - instead of planning my holiday around and between.

And we're celebrating twice this year, which just makes it better. Life, Fire, and Goddess Bless the Winter's passing.

Blessed Be!

Pennanti