Blog o’ Gnosis

I am still hoping to write something about my experience at PantheaCon two weeks ago, and I am still struggling with issues of perspective. I could give a jaded insider’s view of the con, complete with snarky gossip-y non-information that some people would think was hilarious but many more would think was self-indulgent and boring. So no, that’s not the blog post I want to write (though it is tempting).

I could give a lengthy, informative run-down of the sessions I attended, the interesting conversations I had, and what I think the state of Pagan-dom is based on all of the above. Yet writing that post does not interest me. I am tired of thinking of the state of Pagan-dom, tired of the responsibility of knowing so much history and holding so many confidences, tired ultimately of being looked to for words of wisdom.

I did promise to blog again after being “well and fully rested” from the ordeal of PantheaCon. Well readers, I must submit to you today that perhaps such promises are not the wisest notion. For I was no sooner back from Pcon than I was laid flat by the flu, or the bronchitis, or whatever it is that renders people completely helpless, fevering and delirious for days on end.

Okay, well two days on end. On the third day I had to haul myself out of bed for my radio show and a couple other things. By today I’m feeling quite a bit better, though I still haven’t done all my post-Pcon bookkeeping. Yet progress is progress. And considering that this week I have had more rest than activity (besides, do we ever fully recover from ordeals?), I must admit that it is time to blog about the Con.

That’s PantheaCon, for those of you jaded enough to think something else. Yes, the much-ballyhooed annual Pagan gathering is commencing this Friday, held in the splendor of a downtown San Jose hotel, and will run all through the long President’s Day weekend.

My crew and I will be at the Serpentine Music booth just inside the front entrance to the vendor’s room, playing all kinds of Pagan music, and selling CDs, songbooks, and DVDs. This year I have teamed up with the excellent Jason Pitzl-Waters from over at the Wild Hunt Blog and A Darker Shade of Pagan radio. Jason suggested some great new music to carry, and I managed to get his very favorite in stock. (If you come to the booth and give the secret blog-reader handshake, you can see his whole top ten list.)

We had a lovely memorial yesterday for Susan with her mother and aunt, her young students, new and old friends all in attendance. As was fitting, there was a lot of music throughout the afternoon.
The problem with priestessing memorials is that afterwards you go through not only the familiar post-ritual letdown, but you are [...]

Back in the late 1980s when San Francisco Reclaiming’s Spiral Dance ritual was still held at the Women’s Building, the evening began with a chilling a capella performance by Susan Falkenrath. The room was dark and we were all seated on the floor facing the middle of the room. Susan walked into the center of [...]

I first met Darcy Gen when we were barely in our 20s. She had just moved out to the West Coast to be with her sister Margann, my best friend and housemate. Darcy was escaping a life of dead-end jobs, alcohol, and abusive boyfriends back East, and we folded her into our new family with all the enthusiasm and optimism of youth.

It took a few years for Darcy to find her footing, but she had the courage to look life in the eye and rise to any challenge. She struggled with the low self esteem that caused her to seek out men who were no good for her. She knew she had a problem with drinking and hauled herself out of those patterns too, finding new strength in recovery.

Well, all our vigiling worked! The sun is now rising earlier and setting later, with no end in sight until next Summer Solstice. My only regret about life continuing for another year is having to live through the insanity of a national election, not to mention the insanity of more 2012 predictions. Haven’t we had enough of the End of the World by now? I’ve still got pinto beans stockpiled from Y2K! In 2008 I think we should declare a moratorium on all wacky doomsday/super-evolution scenarios, especially those fueled by anything Daniel Pinchbeck says.

Anyway, that is not at all what I wanted to write about tonight. Instead, I would like to highlight a great new blog post by my friend Gus DiZerega. Bravely attending public Solstice rituals so you don’t have to, Gus managed to turn what could have been an occasion for heavy drinking into a really thoughtful essay on Pagan ritual and theology.

I’ve always liked the phrase “Winter break” even though I long ago realized that it is simply a kindly old euphemism for “not really a break at all, plus it’s cold outside.” Winter break always includes some great time with my kids and family, my daughter’s birthday, Solstice, Christmas, delicious food, and maybe a day or two of rest if I’m clever about it. But it also means squeezing in as much work time as possible around the edges of all those holy days and holidays.

This year I have a very big task on the work table, one that looks daunting from the outside but will no doubt become manageable once I dive in. I’ll be getting ready to teach my first class as a faculty member at Cherry Hill Seminary.

This Samhain season has had more than its share of sturm und drang, and I attribute much of it to the general sense of fatigue shared by almost everyone I meet. We are tired of war, tired of hearing of young people killed or injured in these endless struggles. We are sick and weary from corruption, pollution, environmental disaster.

We are working too hard, paying too much, bearing up as best we can under difficult times. With a stalled economy and soaring fuel prices, there are very few people who are not feeling in some way stretched to the limit. We are managing, but winter is coming and who knows what that will bring?

As it happens, this trifecta of disrespect is not all that difficult to accomplish. This is after all the feast of Samhain, when opportunities to ritualize bad manners abound. At Samhain the veil of etiquette is thin, as we all know, and the living and the dead co-mingle like ants around a sugar skull.