f is for...

Famine.
Fallibility.
Frailty.
Faith.
Flowers.

~

...but I digress:

I haven't talked much about my spiritual path, in general or here. I've kept it private, internal. Walked that road by feel, without feeling the need to articulate it, unless asked. When asked, I vaguely resented the questioning, and often kept my answers brief - the kind that didn't invite more questions. I didn't even realize I was doing that until now, looking back.

I think I've kept so much of myself in the dark for so long, it was simply habitual to keep that to myself, too.

I did seek out other pagans, looking for community of others who would understand at least that part of me, and from whom I could learn. And I shared that aspect of myself with those I found, but I shared only that aspect, and no other. My self was illustrated in spotlights, pinpointing the bits I wanted to share, darkening everything else.

I'm currently attempting to integrate myself, which in turn means integrating my social relationships. Not all of them will survive. That's ok. The result will be fewer relationships, but with less famine in those relationships as a whole than I had previously. Less famine in my self.

The whole is more than the sum of its parts.

~

I am fallible. So are my gods.

[There's an excellent post on the fallibility of pagan gods, which got me thinking about the concept. I highly recommend checking out her blog, regardless of your ideas on gods. The post is brief, but thought-provoking, and the comments are worth reading, too. Credit where due: that's the blog that made me think of this today, and inspired its inclusion in this post.]

I ascribe to the concept of 'gods' being how we name or categorize the energies we perceive in this world, which are natural - as opposed to supernatural - and divine. I'm something of a pantheist, I suppose. I don't mind saying the gods are real and incarnate, because I believe they are just as real as our souls, or the spirits that personifies the wind.

I think that our gods represent another variation in the fractal pattern that is life on Earth. Omniscience and omnipotence are concepts which have no real application. Omnipresence is only true in the sense that we are all made of the same omnipresent stuff, that which we call 'energy' for lack of a better word. But, not all types of energy - not all souls, not all gods, not all flavors of the divine - are present at any one time, in a single physical place.

Our gods' nature reflects our souls' nature; that is, they are fallible, prone to emotions, and individual.


Or, we could look at it this way:

Sociologically speaking, the purpose of myths, and by extension the beings which populate those myths (gods and such), is to teach.

What does one learn from an omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent deity? As a standard of behavior, it's a bit high for humans. Always, we fall short. Always, we would be shown inferior. I don't accept that premise.

From fallible gods, we learn to be human. We learn to be better. I consider those myths worthwhile. Gods that are frail, teach us to be strong. Gods that surmount frailty to grow into their own strength are worthy of faith, just as people who do the same are equally worthy of faith.

~

I moved into a new house in January. The day before Imbolc, a deep blueish-purple iris bloomed in my new yard. The following week, that whole flower bed was transplanted - erroneously by a landscaper - from its safe little niche in front of the porch, to the inside of the fence, exactly where my dogs go to bark at passing dogs. Hence, the beautiful flowers that I absolutely loved, have been trampled. It's heartbreaking.

I plan to replant, but either with some sort of protective barrier between the flowers and my dogs, or back in the flowers' original position, which was out of harm's way. I'm rather excited about replanting. I hope I can do it this next month.

~

This post and the letter f have been inspired (brought to you?)

by the Pagan Blog Project :)