• Tag Archives pagan
  • Reimagine

    Samain                          Moon of the Winter Solstice

    Jon sent these two links.  Wish I’d had’em when I owned that farm up near Nevis, Minnesota.  I might still be up there, motoring around on some of these very clever inventions.  They show what an ingenious mind can do when rethinking what appear to be over and done with ideas.

    http://opensourceecology.org/
    http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/en/marcin_jakubowski.html

    Makes me wonder what other ideas need a complete rethink.  Computers have followed a pretty standard architecture up to now, one based on a central processing unit.  I read an article in Scientific American last week about a neural computer which, in essence, gives each unit of a computer a cpu, allowing for massively parallel processing as an integral part of the design. It’s modeled on, but not attempting to replicate, the human brain.

    How about housing?  Cars?  Or, my personal quest and long time obsession, religion?  The family?  Electrical generation?  I’m interested in distributed generation where a cul de sac or an apartment building or a couple of blocks city residential units might get their electricity from, say, a combination of wind, solar and geo-thermal units sited in their immediate vicinity.

    Here’s another one that could use a complete overhaul, reimagining:  nations.  The nation state is a relatively new phenomenon, most experts date its rise somewhere around 1800, perhaps a hundred years earlier in the instance of Portugal and the Netherlands.  In the wake of the globalization of economic life national boundaries have much different meanings that they did, say, 50 years ago.

    Let’s go back to religion for a second.  Over the last several years, 23 to be exact, I’ve wrestled with the hole left by Christianity in my life and sought to fill it through what I call a tactile spirituality, one wedded to the rhythms of the seasons, of flowers and vegetables, of bees.  This direction took its initial impetus from an immersion in Celtic lore while I sifted for writing topics.

    Then, I began to follow the Great Wheel of the seasons, a Celtic sacred calendar focused on 8 seasons, rather than four.  That led me to integrate gardening with my sacred calendar.  In the wake of these two changes in my life, I began to see the vegetative and wild natural world as more than tools for food or leisure, rather I began to see that they were my home, that I lived with them and in them, rather than having them as adjuncts to my anthropocentric life.

    This whole change, this rethink of what sacred and holy mean, what the locus of my spirituality is and where it is, has had a long maturation, much thought and experimentation.  My hope is that my reimagining might provide a common religious base, a sort of ur-religion, which all humans everywhere can embrace.

    As in times past this base religion could certainly have others layered on top of it, its essence after all is to be non-exclusive.  What I hope further is that reasserting, inviting, even luring others to see the sacred and the holy in our planet and its other living beings, they will be more likely to join in to see it healthy and vital.


  • Vanitas

    Spring                                    Waxing Awakening Moon

    A Woolly brother goes in for knee surgery on Monday.  He’s a bright guy who will select a surgeon with care.  He’s also good at taking care of himself so I’m sure the surgery and the recovery will go well.

    These are the years when retirement income and the upcoming procedure can fill a lot of conversation.  The body degenerates, the centre does not hold, things fall apart.  The way of it, this human, animal, mammal, finite life.

    I had planned to check on my bees tomorrow, see if they pollen patty needed replacing and put on a syrup feeder, but the weather guy says cloudy, cool and wet.  Not a good bee day.  Like many of us, bees stay home when the weathers inclement and they don’t like uninvited guests.  Really don’t like them.  Sunday or Monday look better.  I’ll wait.

    Kate and I are through Chapter 9 in Wheelock, closing in this week on Chapter 10.  We also got a book of readings and now do sight reading in each session in addition to the readings in the book.  This last reading was from Seneca about slaves and masters.  It’s moving.  The issues of slaves and slavery is old, very old and the issues of freedom and the injustice of slavery is also old, very old.

    The more we work with the Latin the more I become committed to classical scholarship and the doors it opens into human thought, human thought not in dialogue with Christianity, but with the world of Athens.  This is a world both intimately connected to us, yet very foreign, too.  It is pagan, though that’s an anachronism, since before Christian dogma, there were other religions, not paganism.

    I’m still pumped about the health care reform even if it fell short of single-payer.  That’s for later.  Right now, let’s party.


  • The Earth, a Sacred Place

    79  bar falls 29.96  0mph NE  dew-point 56  sunrise 6:10 sunset 8:25  Lughnasa

    Waxing Gibbous Corn Moon

    I got this off the Permaculture listserv.

    “(I find this is a good reminder to recite every morning.)
    Diadra

    A Prayer for Gaia by Rose Mary O’Malley

    As I breathe in your air, eat your fruits and drink your water, let me be sustained and nourished so that I may serve.

    As I use your resources for clothes, shelter and warmth, let me be strengthened so that I may give back more than I have taken.

    As I drink in the beauty of your oceans, flowers, blue sky and stars, let me be so filled with beauty that I will bring only love and joy to your inhabitants.

    As I am nourished, taught and loved by your inhabitants, let me so filled with love and knowledge that I joyfully work to assure a fair distribution of your treasures.”

    It is an example what I believe to be true, that is, many many people consider the earth a sacred place and have the intention of reverence and worship toward her.  The whole neo-pagan movement with its mix and match invocation of Europe’s ancient pantheons and perhaps some Egyptian influence does not reflect the rootedness of this sentiment in American soil. (That is, the American manifestation of it.  I believe this is a global phenomenon.) It is also not the case that the Native American reverence for the earth is other than a salutary reminder since their experience is so different from that of us boat people.

    We need a way of following the seasons that respects our American experience of this vast and wonderful land.  We need a way of honoring mother earth that borrows, yes, from other cultures, but does not presume to make their ways our ways.  We need, as Emerson said, a religion of revelation to us, not the history of theirs.   And that revelation comes from two sources:  our experience of the outer world–this land, its peoples and our experience of other peoples and other lands; and, our experience of our inner world and its own universe, added to our resonance with the outer world.

    This is the pagan lovesong that I hear in the hearts of so many people, one that needs articulation and expansion.  This is like Brian Swimme’s work, too.

    This faith, this reverence and worship of the earth, as in Ms. O’Malley’s prayer, is an ur-faith, or a proto-faith, a faith that comes prior to others,  a faith whose acceptance does not contradict the Mulism or the Buddhist, the Taoist or the Christian, but complements, supplements them.  For some, like me, it is an adequate faith, enough to sustain me on my journey and as I contemplate the life after this one, or others, it is not enough, but one that needs some salvation instrument or some philosophical cleanser.  That’s all right.


  • How I Work

    76  bar falls 30.01  0mph SW dew-point 58  sunrise 6:06 sunset 8:30  Lughnasa

    First Quarter of the Corn Moon  moonrise 1326  moonset 2226

    “More Americans are likely to suffer kidney stones in the coming years as a result of global warming, according to researchers at the University of Texas.”  Agence France-Presse, July 2008

    N.B. All these quotes about global warming come from this website:  The Warmlist.  Here’s the webmasters explanation:

    “This site is devoted to the monitoring of the misleading numbers that rain down on us via the media. Whether they are generated by Single Issue Fanatics (SIFs), politicians, bureaucrats, quasi-scientists (junk, pseudo- or just bad), such numbers swamp the media, generating unnecessary alarm and panic. They are seized upon by media, hungry for eye-catching stories. There is a growing band of people whose livelihoods depend on creating and maintaining panic. There are also some who are trying to keep numbers away from your notice and others who hope that you will not  make comparisons. Their stock in trade is the gratuitous lie. The aim here is to nail just a few of them.”

    So, don’t say I didn’t fess up.  The Star-Tribune turned me onto this site.

    Shifted focus. Gonna work on that firepit.  I decided Kate can help me transplant day lilies when she gets home and I’ll still have time to transplant the iris.  I get on a task and sometimes don’t lift my headup to check whether it makes sense.  Heresy Moves West is an example.

    The research alone would take a good bit of time, I knew that.  That meant I could not hope to research and write it in the week prior to September 14th.  Knowing that I began to develop this knot in my to do lobe.  It began to insist, get it done.  Get it done now.  Right now.  This even though the date was 8 weeks away at the time.  Anyhow, I finally opened up and let the lobe have its way.

    Once begun, research and writing, at least for me, need to be one fluid motion, the research followed by the writing.  In my case this is because as I research various ways of slicing and dicing the information comes to me throughout. At night before I go to sleep the data often floats up and demands consideration.   Sometimes I make note of these patterns, sometimes not.  Often I don’t because I want the order and interpretation fungible to the last possible moment.

    Why?  In between the research and the writing there is a creative time in which the data and the various arrangements of it begin to pull other information, other paradigms out of my memory.  This process can change the data’s relevance.  Let me give you an example.

    At first I imagined a straight chronological presentation.  The Unitarians began at such and such a place at such and such a time.  The westward expansion of the US began in this time period.  It rolled out according to these stages, in this place at this time and another place at another time until the whole shebang ended up encountering Minnesota. This came to me first because historical movement often seems cleanest presented in chronological order.

    Soon though, as the pieces began to swirl, it became clear to me that the historical progression would have to start earlier, then even earlier.  I wrote about this a while back, my need for context.  When I realized there were big ideas at play here, the order of things changed again.  Then it was a history of ideas approach that made more sense, capturing the development of the peculiar notion of religious freedom in the US.  As that became clear, a second important dynamic rose to the top, the rolling dialectic between orthodoxy and heterodoxy.

    To highlight the ancient character of this dynamic I decided to find its beginnings in the Abrahamic tradition with Abram’s call away from polytheism to allegiance to YHWH.

    Both of these decisions meant that the data in the presentation would have to show how the westward movement of heresy (the rolling dialectic of orthodoxy and heterodoxy in Unitarian history) advanced thanks to the first amendment and how it continued the long arc of dogma challenged by new thought.  This lead to the realization that the westward expansion of heresy intensified in the  atmosphere of freedom and pioneer energy found on the frontier.  So, when we end up in Minnesota, the presentations show how religious freedom and the rolling dialectic not only manifest themselves here, but in fact gain strength and intensity.

    Finally, that lead to a desire to push the dialectic one step further, beyond the bland everything’s in bounds soup of current day Unitarian-Universalism to the articulation of a new heterodoxy, one opposed to the dogma of one size fits all faith-lite.  This piece is the unwritten one at this point.


  • A Romantic Hymn to the Universal and the Particular

    72  bar rises 30.07 1mph N  dew-point 57  sunrise 6:05 sunset 8:31  Lughnasa

    First Quarter of the Corn Moon

    “The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages.” – Virginia Woolf

    In this case you have to remember that Virginia put rocks in her pockets and drowned herself in the closest flowing water.

    Here are some notes.  A new direction for liberal religion.  Cosmology:  a nature centered (including humans) faith that has local manifestations, i.e. this galaxy, this solar system, this planet, this nation, this province, this place, this particular location. (Our Town)  Anthropology:  we are universes,   one self, many selves.  Whitman.  We grow toward a Self that can contain and nourish all of our many selves, yet paradoxically extinguish them all.  Existentialism.  Nexus.  Ethics:  the Iroquois medicine man at Theology in the Americas.  Soteriology-see ethics and anthropology.  A decadent salvation, from stardust to stardust.

    We must answer the thin faith of the empiricist, the sad faith of the secular humanist, the mad faith of the fundamentalists and the mind-only faith of those outside the faith traditions of their youth.  Our response, our new direction folds together the empiricist and the humanist with a pagan lovesong, a romantic hymn to the universal and the particular.  Its flower symphony trumpets forth from home altars all across the globe, a fragrant and colorful melody that weaves us all together, a magic fabric with each individual, yet each part.

    This has legs in my heart, it wants to run and jump and play with others.


  • Teasing Out the Pagan Lovesong

    76  bar rises 29.89  0mph NE dew-point 67  sunrise 6:02 sunset 8:35  Lughnasa

    Waxing Crescent of the Corn Moon

    I saw the dentist today, oh boy.  He unscrewed a couple of fillings, refilled them, then closed what he insists on calling an “open contact.”  Does that sound like an oxymoron to you?  Does to me.  Dr. Mahler comes into my mouth unbidden, the occasion the retirement of the redoubtable Dr. Moghk, may he golf in peace.  Dr. Mahler is good, fast and communicative.  Sure of himself. Just what I want in a dentist.  No, seriously.  He’s a keeper.

    The closing words of my last post have rung like a bell in my head since I wrote them:   This whole enterprise needs a rethink, a radical redo.  We have gotten thin and liberal, instead of profound and prophetic.

    What to do? Part of the responsibility rests with me.  I have the task of articulating what I believe and have faith in right now.  This articulation must be clear and emotionally compelling.  And it is work I feel I can do, am ready to do.  Looks like I was off about ten years when I hoped for intellectual maturity in my early 50’s, it has come instead, in my early 60’s.  That’s all right.

    The later maturity came because my individuation and maturation occurred more slowly than it might have thanks to alcohol and neurosis.  I regret the years I gave to anger, disappointment, drinking and smoking.  I regret the hurt I caused then and the overhang it left me.  Even so, I also know that regret is an emotion with no purpose, no forward motion, so I acknowledge it and set it to the side.  Today, the only time I have ever had and will ever have, is the day in which I take up this challenge, perhaps I could have ten years ago, but I didn’t.

    Now it remains for me to tease out the pagan lovesong that courses through me when I  touch a lily or eat an onion grown in soil I have prepared.  There is an ancient language of love and awe for the natural world and for ourselves as part of and dependent on it.  This vocabulary of seasons, lunar changes, life’s stages, friendship and family has no nation, knows no creeds and depends on no books, yet it is as particular as the street on which you live and the air that you breathe.

    This dream, what Thomas Berry called the Dream of the Earth, is a dream in the sense of the aboriginal dreamtime, it is a way of dreaming worlds into being and it is our great and primary gift as a species.  Like all gifts it can cause great good or great harm.   Over the next few years I will slip from time to time into the dreamtime and let you know what I find there.