Paganism…
Wicca…
Witchcraft…
Witch…
Such scary words! (Can you feel the sarcasm here? If not,
this might not be the blog for you.)
For me, scary has never been an adjective I have associated
with any of these terms. I tend (for the most part) to use more positive words. Intimidating,
confusing, beautiful, freeing, inspirational, spiritual, empowering, home… my
list of adjectives goes on and on.
I grew up in the bible belt. My family are a fun mix of
Catholic/Baptist/We-Don’t-Care-What-You-Are-As-Long-As-You-Believe-In-Jesus
with very few exceptions. The small town I still live in has 41 active churches
(for a population of around 7,000) listed on the official town website. You can
find them listed along with information about local parks, government
buildings, public schools, and upcoming local events. We have one interstate
exit, one Walmart (because we, somehow, happen to be the largest town in our
county,) a handful of children’s parks, a few fast-food joints, and a
Christian-based church within 1/8 of a mile of nearly every resident. I
personally drive past 6 (that I can remember off the top of my head) during the
5-minute drive from my house to our local Walmart. To say that living openly as
a Pagan in my hometown can a nightmare is putting it lightly.
Why does this matter? Because I felt the need to explain the
origins of my most important personal rule when discussing religion and why I
have decided to break it. What is the rule? “If you don’t know me well enough
to know my name, you don’t get to discuss religion with me.” This might seem
like a close-minded rule from the outside. If you’ve never lived in the bible
belt or you’ve never had the pleasure of interacting with some of the people
who live here, you might not understand at first.
It all started a few years ago. At the time, I was firmly
“in the broom closet” with little desire to put myself through the hell of
coming out of it. There were hints picked up (though not usually mentioned) by
close friends and family. I had been refusing to attend church regularly from
the moment I became old enough to have an opinion on the matter. They knew how
I had come to feel about “mainstream” organized religion. It just wasn’t for
me. With extremely few exceptions, I don’t think most of them had any clue as
to the true reasons behind my refusal.
So, a few years ago, I started taking a dance class. Through
this class, I met a group of pagans from a larger town about an hour away from
where I currently live. I was invited to a few public rituals and discussion
groups and decided to attend. Up to this point, I had lived my life and studied
my craft as a solitary. It was an eye-opening experience. I discovered you
could live openly as a Pagan in the bible belt and the world wouldn’t come to
an end. I wasn’t alone. There were others close by who shared similar beliefs.
It was more than that though. Everything I witnessed showed me that these
people were happy to live publicly as who and what they are. It was then that I
decided to step out of the “broom closet” and into the beautiful, healing light
of the sun.
There was no great announcement. I simply quit hiding who I
was. I started wearing my rosary (a pentagram replacing the cross) in public. I
began going to more and more public events and discussion groups. I started sharing
and posting openly on Facebook. My world twisted and suddenly everyone knew
what I was and it didn’t matter. It wasn’t a big deal because, whether they
realized it or not, everyone who knew me wasn’t surprised.
The problem was people who didn’t know me. The problem was
those who noticed my rosary when I wore it in public. The problem was comments
from strangers when I would take my children to play at the park. The problem
was being accosted in the check-out line when I went to pay for my groceries.
They would demand to know if I knew what the pentagram meant, ask me about
devil worship, preach to me about sin, and suggest churches that could help me
come to know Jesus. It didn’t happen every day, but it happened often enough to
begin wearing a rough spot on my soul. I found myself placing a foot back into
that dark, lonely “broom closet” and I didn’t like the feeling. I didn’t want
to go back.
So, I made my rule. If someone approached me in public, I
would smile, offer a hand shake, and attempt to exchange names. Most of time,
it changed the dynamic of the confrontation and lead to real conversations
about the nature of our differing religious beliefs. If they refused, we were done interacting. If
you don’t care enough to learn my name, you don’t get to discuss the possible
damnation of my soul. So far, this rule has severed its purpose and I am much
happier for it. It’s here to stay. In my day-to-day life, my rule isn’t going
away.
I’ve reached a weird
point in my magical journey. I feel, all at once, like the Maiden, the Mother,
and the Crone. I’ve spent most of my life as a solitary so there’s still a
never-ending tide of things I need to learn. I feel very much like the Maiden
taking her first steps down the path of a lifetime. At the same time, I’m not
starting out fresh; there are years of study that lay behind me. Over the past
few years, as I have become more and more public in my beliefs, others have
begun to reach out. Friends, family, and acquaintances have started asking for
guidance in starting their own magical journeys and finding their own paths.
What is this?
What does this mean?
What do I need?
How do I do this?
Do I need this?
How do I find my God and Goddess?
What do you do?
I try to approach their questions as openly as I can. I let
them know that I am still just as much a student of the craft as they are. I
encourage their questions. Chances are, I’ve had to answer the same question
for myself in the past. If I don’t have an answer or guidance for them, I probably know
someone who does and we can learn together.
Still, I find myself facing a dilemma. Can you teach or
offer guidance when you still feel like a student yourself? This question lies
at the heart and soul of this blog. I’ve decided that the best way to truly
explore my dilemma is to share it. Think Book of Shadows meets daily journal
with a little bit of random fun thrown in. I don’t really expect anyone to read
this. If you have found it and you’ve made it as far as the end of this first
post: Welcome. I hope you stick around while I share my journey and
interactions with others in the most open and honest way I can.
I’ve decided to break my rule for this blog because Raven
Rivers is not my real name. It’s not a craft name. It’s a name I’ve chosen
specifically for use here. I’ve chosen it because the nature of the internet.
I’ve chosen it because I want to be as open and honest about my journey as I
can and a pseudonym allows me to do that in a way that wouldn’t be possible
otherwise. Know also, any names you do see from this point on have also been
changed. Any interactions I choose to share will most likely be with people who
are still at least partially stuck in that “broom closet” themselves. Because
of this, I cannot justify using their real names. This is also why you won’t
find links to my personal/private social media accounts. I might consider
making Raven Rivers social media accounts in the future if the need arises.
Until then, if you wish to join the discussion or have questions of your own,
please feel free to do so in the comments below. I ask only 3 things: Remember you
are interacting with actual flesh-and-blood humans, Keep it civil, and BE KIND.
If you’re still interested in sticking around, please check
back often as this blog grows and develops. I plan on making posts that include personal thoughts on current events, Spell-of-the-Day, personal experiences that will read a lot like journal posts, and educational posts. If there's something you're interested in learning more about, comment below and I'll try to include it in future posts. Like always, if it's something I don't know about, I love learning along with you.
Until we meet again:
Peace, Love, and Incense,
Raven Rivers
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