PBP – A is for Aikido (and Anime)

I haven’t been doing a lot of writing lately, or really any creative mental work… although I have been doing a lot of handcraft stuff, so that counts for something! But while I haven’t been feeling the itch to blog per se, I do feel like getting back into a little more regular writing practice… and since I actually seem to still have a reader or two (thanks, my friends!), the Pagan Blog Project seemed like a pretty low-stress way to do that (I expect I’ll be on the every-other-week schedule).

So – this week’s prompt is “A”. When I think of “A” related things in terms of my spiritual practice, the most important has to be Aikido. I have been training for almost six years now, and it has come to be possibly the most spiritual thing that I do; it keeps me grounded in my body and its connection to the physical world, as well as to some of my more strictly spiritual aspirations (re-grounding was, in fact, the most prominent of these, but my desire to be a peacemaker is also reinforced and facilitated by my Aikido practice).

Aikido has also given me both the impetus and the tools to finally undertake a significant transformation in my relationship to my body and to food, to the tune of about 70 pounds lost in the last two years (with more to go, of course). Given my history, I think it highly unlikely that I would have taken these important life steps without the quasi-external driver of wanting to improve my aikido to a level that would never have been possible with all that extra weight, and the lack of fitness that went with it.

On a somewhat related note, I am an anime/manga fan (although hardly to the extent my daughter is, and certainly not otaku*-level); anime and manga don’t really play a part in my spiritual life as such, but there are a few decidedly pagan-friendly titles that *feel* similar to how my spirituality has evolved over the last couple of years, and I thought I’d share them here.

Note that I am not talking about just the Shinto or Buddhist “trappings” that are everywhere in anime (miko, monks, battle spells, and so on…) – I’m limiting this list to that handful of titles I’ve found that actually seem to have a spiritual message that I find resonant.

(NB: if the following looks familiar, it’s lifted from a post on my old blog that’s so old I assume everyone has forgotten about it :)

Spirited Away and My Neighbor Totoro – There’s not much to say about the spiritual aspects of Spirited Away that hasn’t already been said… and while Totoro works on a much simpler level, the underlying Shinto-based message that the Divine is present, accessible and local in nature as well as manifesting as (what we in the West think of as) Gods speaks to and reinforces an important aspect of my spirituality. (There are moments in the anime series Kamichu that do this as well.)

*otaku = obsessive fan

How not to lose weight this winter

Winter is coming, and that means one thing – food is becoming scarce and if we’re not careful, starvation is sure to follow. In the spirit of helping my reader survive the coming season of cold and deprivation, I would like to offer the following suggestions for a happy and healthy winter.

1. Gorge now, while the food is still around. I know what you’re thinking, this is easier said than done – but this first step is vital in your race against the reaper. Fortunately, our ancestors in their wisdom devised a little thing called the Christmas party to help with this. Also, if you work in an office it’s a good idea to take full advantage of the high-calorie, high-fat treats floating around the room right now – in a week or two they will vanish like snow in summer, but if you grab them now they can be valuable allies in the coming struggle.

2. Hibernate. This one is just common sense, but I feel I have to include it since so many people these days seems to feel that they are “supposed” to exercise around the beginning of the year. This is ridiculous on the face of it – how are you going to maintain that protective layer of fat that will keep you warm and feed you over the winter if you start burning it off with pointless movement? The secret to keeping the weight on is to take in more calories than you use – and besides, baby, it’s cold outside! This is the time to huddle in front of the fire drinking cocoa and eggnog and watching reruns of Big Bang Theory, not running around like a gazelle on speed.

3. That’s it, really… eat and sleep. Happy solstice to one and all!

Scholarly podcast on Druidry

From The Religious Studies Podcast series, “Suzanne Owen on Druidry and the Definition of Religion“.

(They also have episodes on Rudolf Otto, Bron Taylor (author of “Dark Green Religion”), fiction-based religions (CAW, Jedi, Tolkien…), Graham Harvey, and invented religions – among others that may interest you.

The Vegetable at the Feast

Just for you, a little post-Thanksgiving silliness…

The holidays had come again,
The way they always do;
Thanksgiving, and then Christmas –
What feasting was in view!

Upon dear Great-Aunt Ida’s home
The relatives descended,
In every hand a covered dish;
The sweet aromas blended

Into one great, amorphous smell
Of “Holidays” entire –
If I could bottle that somehow,
I surely could retire!

The dining table quickly groaned
Beneath the weight of dishes
(In number and variety
Far beyond a glutton’s wishes!)

Arranged with loving care and taste
By Great-Aunt Ida’s hand;
The door did op’n at last to our
Gastronomic wonderland.

First came the turkey, goose and ham –
God’s tastiest creations –
The one thing that was sure, was that
We’d eat to satiation.

And beyond the animals, the shining
Carbohydrates beckoned:
Potatoes, stuffing, rice and bread
In multitudes unreckoned…

And on the sideboard – oh, the sight!
There must have been fifteen
Types of puddings, pies and cakes;
And in the corner, something… green?

Confused, uncertain, full of doubt
I made my way along
The line until I thought that, no,
I surely must be wrong;

No food that color could be here
On this great festal day
To spoil the carefully designed
Monochrome array:

The shades of white, and cream, and beige
and tawny golden-brown
So artfully arranged to calm
The mind and spirit down.

And yet, I caught a fleeting glimpse
Of that disturbing green
Again as I dipped gravy
From the gallon-sized tureen…

Convinced at last that something wrong
Was truly in the air,
I navigated carefully
Past cousins stout and fair;

Determined now to find the source
Of that unsettling shade
And banish it, I ventured on
With spirit undismayed.

Mere minutes passed, I know, before
I reached the table’s end –
Though it seemed an hour, squeezing past
My relatives and friends –

But duty called, and no amount
Of pain, or bitter tears
(The trodden toes, the elbowed ribs
I would recall for years)

Could steer me from my course, or long
Deter me from my goal:
That verdant interloper
Whose presence seared my soul.

At last, at last I came upon
The villian of the scene
Huddled ‘midst the pastries –
A saucer of green beans!

No butter, sauce or breading
Adorned their nakedness.
Alone and lonely, shivering
On a bed of watercress,

They seemed, not vile, but helpless
And far from friend or kin;
Moved by a strange compassion,
I resolved to take them in.

I made a space upon my plate
By removing several rolls,
And then performed the deed that in
Our family still is told

In tones of hushed and reverent awe,
Repeated every year verbatim:
“He put those green beans on his plate,
And then he sat down, and he ate ’em!”

Many years have passed now
Since that great and fateful day,
But the echoes of my eating
Have yet to fade away.

Aunt Ida’s gone, God rest her,
To that banquet in the sky
Where the gravy flows in rivers
And the clouds are pumpkin pie…

And so the hosting of the feast
Has descended now to me,
And I try to do some justice
To her blessed memory.

The meats we have, and starches still,
Though no longer quite as much –
And of desserts we have our pick,
Of cakes and pies and such –

But another table stands as well,
And to it people bring
Containers full of vegetables,
Of green and growing things!

Spinach, peas and broccoli
Now have a home within;
No longer do we flee the thought
Of consuming vitamins.

Carrots, sprouts and mushrooms
Now adorn our dining hall –
And the lowly green bean, proud now,
Is the master of them all.

Some things I believe

(as opposed to having opinions about… no great revelations here, just clarifying things for myself.)

We think in symbols; coherent symbolic patterns have more effect on what we believe about the world than reality, which is actually pretty random. “God” is a symbol, to the extent that we can’t really understand what the Divine is.

In my day to day life, people are more important than gods. Yesterday I comforted a friend who is going through a deep personal crisis; this seemed holier to me than most formal worship I have attended. That said, of course, it is impossible for me to imagine that there is nothing there – I’ve talked with it.

My task in the world right now is to provide for my family, keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. The only thing in this that separates me from my ancestors of the last 10,000 years is how I do that. Anything extra is gravy.

What I believe can’t be condensed to a blog post.   ;)

The colors I see

The following is the text of a homily I delivered yesterday at my UU church.

The seeds of this talk were sown a few weeks ago when I got into a… discussion online with an evangelical humanist. He made a number of good points, but flatly dismissed all spiritual and mystical experience as – well, let’s call it poppycock. This left me feeling a little bemused, rather like I’d just been told by someone who’s color-blind that the color green must be imaginary. Rather than becoming irritated, though, the encounter led me to do some thinking about the experiences I’ve had and what they might mean; what the colors are that I see.

First, I think, is the appreciation of beauty as a spiritual practice. I know that for myself, the love of beauty is near the core of my personality; and, it turns out, it’s a part of my spiritual path as well. Certain pieces of music can move me to tears, joy and awe every time I hear them (some of these will be/were playing during the coffee hour); and with some works of art, their physical beauty tells me more clearly than words of the spiritual beauty that must have inspired the artist… and, of course, the most beautiful art and music of all is right outside these windows.

Now, I’m not saying that everything beautiful is automatically spiritual, or even good; but what I am saying is that, for me, the aesthetic and the spiritual are tied up together, and more than that, they support and enhance each other. A spiritual approach to the experience of beauty can elevate it above the mundane, and beautification of the spiritual can deepen your relationship to God, particularly if you do the beautification work yourself.

The idea of spirituality elevating beauty is best described, for me, in the modern Druidic teachings about the concept of “Awen”. Awen is a complex idea, but for the purposes of this talk you can think of it at one level as the action of Spirit that inspires creative work, and at a deeper level as the life force that flows through all things. Awen is said to flow through the bard or artist when they create or perform their works; but it also flows through the audience or the viewer – if we are prepared to receive it – inspiring and deepening our understanding and appreciation of the work, and allowing the work to take us past the gap at the edge of our normal perception and into awareness of the presence of the Holy.

As to the beautification of the spiritual, I discovered as I was doing research for this talk that I’m not the only one to believe this… Judaism has a concept called hiddur mitzvah, literally “beautification of the commandment”. As one source puts it,

“Beauty enhances the… commandments by appealing to the senses. Beautiful sounds and agreeable fragrances, tastes, textures, colors, and artistry contribute to human enjoyment of religious acts, and beauty itself takes on a religious dimension.”

This is a pretty radical idea, if you think about it – not only can spirituality elevate art, but art can elevate spirituality! That is the true power of art (and music, of course!), and the true power of beauty. You can see this right here in our sanctuary: we have made the decision to focus on making our meeting space more beautiful, and I think we all agree that it greatly enhances our worship experience. I know it does mine. This is also why I believe so strongly in good liturgy; the regular experience of beauty focused on holy things prepares the soul to be receptive to the promptings of Spirit, to hear the voice of God in the wind and the water and the song of the sparrow.

This brings us to another side of my spiritual work, one that I have been focused on pretty strongly in the last few years: trying to maintain and expand my awareness of the natural world around me, and finding there my links to the interdependent Web, and to the Divine.

There has been a spate of recent research pointing up the physical and psychological damage we are doing to ourselves with our modern lifestyle, going from one enclosed, climate-controlled environment to another, usually via our equally enclosed, equally climate-controlled vehicles, without paying a bit of attention to the spaces in between. There has even been a term coined for it, by the writer Richard Louv – Nature Deficit Disorder. In his books, The Last Child in the Woods and The Nature Principle, Louv lays out his vision of how many of the issues being reported regularly in the news – rising rates of obesity and obesity-related illnesses, attention and hyperactivity problems, and anxiety and depression, among others – can be tied back to our increasing alienation from the world outside our electronic gadgets.

Fortunately, there’s an easy way to fight all this – by going outside! Data show that just being outside can increase focus, mental activity and overall health; but as part of spirit work, the other critical component is paying mindful attention, especially to the ordinary and the commonplace. I try to make a point now, whenever I go outside, to pause for even just a few seconds, and try to take stock of what’s around me – what is growing here? Are there birds singing? What other living things are sharing this space with me? What does the air feel like this morning?

This regular exercise in mindfulness has had a profound effect on how I relate to the world around me, and (I believe) to other people as well. When I think about it, just stepping out the front door takes me into a world of endless wonder, mystery and magic; and when I do start out the day this way, I find myself calmer and more at peace throughout the day, readier to see the good in other people – and even more inclined to talk to God. I have also had some very cool experiences that I would never have had otherwise. For instance:

A few weeks ago I took a couple of days off to go camping, just get out in the trees for a while. I was walking into the woods there, and chanced upon a butterfly resting by the side of the trail.  I paused to greet it, as I try to do on such occasions; it regarded me for a few moments, then flew up around my head and fluttered down the trail before settling down a few feet away.  As I caught up, the performance was repeated; my companion swooped and glided (and I do mean “glided”, like a hawk) before me and on ahead again, only to come to rest as before, waiting until I came up alongside.

We proceeded in this way for a good three minutes or more, until the path opened up into a clearing; here the butterfly settled on a branch at the edge of the trail, obviously intending to go no farther.  I thanked it for keeping me company through the darkest part of the woods, and it sat with me for a minute before fluttering away between the branches.

Would this incident have happened if I wasn’t looking for it? Maybe; but I certainly would not have had the *experience* of it if I wasn’t looking for it, and choosing to be in a place and situation where the possibility could exist. It’s for certain that nothing would have happened if I’d kept eating lunch at my desk and surfing the Web, like I used to.

And surfing… brings us back around to the beginning, as promised.

Every year in the fall we take a family vacation to the beach; and for the past few years, my daughter and I have spent a lot of that time bodysurfing. Every time I get out in the ocean I seem to start thinking about big stuff; maybe it’s because that’s where I do a lot of my theologizing, but I’ve begun to think of Spirit – much of the time – in ocean terms. I’d like to end today by talking about how I try to embody this nature-and-beauty practice, as well as some of the possible insights I’ve gained along the way, all wrapped up in a somewhat extended analogy.

Just as the ocean is the original home of all physical life, so the Divine is our spiritual point of origin. We are not identical with the ocean, but there is a lot of it in us – and so it is with Spirit. And like fish in the ocean, we exist entirely within the Holy but can’t really perceive its true nature; all we experience is the effects of Sprit moving in the world, the waves and currents of Divine activity.

Like the ocean, God is not completely other, or transcendent; vastly larger than us, and clearly different in many ways, but still a part of the whole system. Like the ocean, the Divine can be encountered in many different places and different ways; the experience may be very different from place to place, and even from time to time, but in essence it is still the same water, still the same ocean. And finally: like the ocean, encountering God is not necessarily safe. Just as the ocean has undertows and riptides that can pull you out too far and too deep, there are risks to meeting the Divine face to face; you may just find your entire life turned upside down and the ground sucked out from under your feet.

So – now that we have our analogy firmly in place, what do we do with it? The first of the UU Sources speaks of “Direct experience of that transcending mystery and wonder, affirmed in all cultures, which moves us to a renewal of the spirit and an openness to the forces which create and uphold life.” But our tradition doesn’t give us a specific set of practices designed to lead us to such experiences, as many religions do; so how do we get there? How do we go about, if you will, “bodysurfing with God”?

First, you have to show up. To surf, you have to go to the ocean; to meet the Divine, you must be awake, conscious and present to your life… and you have to keep showing up, over and over again.  As with any skill, spirituality has to be *practiced*. It’s not enough just to have some thoughts about it; if you don’t actually do anything you will get precisely nothing in return.

You also have to decide where and how you think you want to get to the ocean. Established religions, like public beaches, can provide a well-defined way to get to the water, and eliminate some of the hazards you find on wilder coastlines… but they also can limit your encounter to such an extent that you never get to experience the ocean’s full power and beauty.

Before you get in the water, it is vital to remember that the ocean is much bigger than you, and you’re not in charge. You can control your course to an extent, but there’s always a chance that a big wave or a strong current will make the decision for you. Likewise, you may find that the Divine has plans for you that have nothing to do with what you thought you were going to do with your life.

If you want to catch a good wave, there are certain things you have to do to before, during and after the ride. You have to maintain awareness, to see the opportunities when they present themselves (and also to keep yourself safe) – keep watching the surface of the water, looking for the larger, faster moving swells that promise a good wave. If you’re seeking a spiritual encounter, watch for signs of God’s movement in the world (and always try to stay open, so that when it comes you won’t miss it). Over time you will start to feel when an opportune moment is at hand, but there’s never a guarantee that things will “work” as expected – so if nothing happens, or too much happens and you get slammed down into the sand, as it were, don’t let it convince you that the whole thing is impossible.

Most of the time, when a promising wave does come you have to launch yourself into it; if you just float there it will pass right over you. When you meet the Holy, you have to be willing to say, as Abraham did, “I am here”… to decide, at that exact moment, whether you will surrender to it or let it go by. (But be sure you’re pointed in the right direction before you jump!)

In the end, if you truly want to ride you do have to give yourself over to the wave when it comes, give up some control, or you will never get anywhere. If you want to meet God face to face, you can’t make all the rules; you have to open yourself completely to the experience and take the leap of faith, trusting in the Spirit of Life. Remember, once you’ve started the ride, the ocean is in control – you have to trust that it’s flowing in the right direction.

And, finally, one last thought… The waves *will* take you back to the shore, but where you end up may well not be where you started from – or where you thought you were headed.

The time has come

I have been thinking about officially getting out of blogging for a while now, and I think the time is here. Mam Adar announced this morning that she is quitting once and for all, and as I read her announcement I realized how much I wanted to do the same… so I am. I’ve actually been drifting away for over a year, as you may have noticed :) – in fact, I’ve been drifting away from a lot of online “life” in general, in favor of focusing my limited free time on my family, my local community and my various creative outlets.

I’ve written before about my desire to get out of my head and live more… embodied, in the here and now… and less time online is becoming a part of that whole process for me.

I will, however, leave you with one last thought (and I will be leaving this blog up at least for the time being, as I have done and will continue to do with ExecutivePagan).

What I do doesn’t have a name; it’s not a Way, it’s not a path, it’s just my life. What I reverence doesn’t have a name; it could be gods, or spirits, or Great Nature… but anymore, to me, it’s just what IS. I’ve given up on theology and having a grand plan, I follow the things that interest me *because* they interest me…

And that, my friends, is enough.

May whoever or whatever you worship bless you as you go.

This killed me

The 9 Most Bad-Ass Bible Verses

(thanks to Kay for the link that led to this link!)

Gods in America

Pan at Columbia

What does American paganism look like to me? A lot like this… this remarkable statue of The Great God Pan was created by George Gray Barnard, sculptor and architect (he designed The Cloisters), and now resides at Columbia University in New York City.

This post inaugurates an occasional series dedicated to what I think of as “pagan arts in America” – artistic resources that I find religiously significant, whether or not they had that meaning to their creators or intended audience.

Thanks to Terri Windling for the great find!

A phrase out of context

…you that love language, measure wind/in stanzas… – Rumi

This lovely image is from Rumi’s poem “Remembering Egypt”. In context, it speaks to recalling the Exodus as an antidote to too much concern with the things of this world… but when it flows through me, it comes out Druidic: pay attention to the natural world, study it and learn from it, and use the tools of art and of the mind to describe what you find.

(HT to Velveteen Rabbi for the source!)