For as long as I can remember, I've been fascinated with the ideal of the warrior. More specifically, I've been fascinated by the ideal of the warrior as presented in ancient Europe, when warfare meant more than training to use guns and explosives, and battles were fought face to face. I was drawn to the ideal that the medieval warrior presented: strong, skilled, fierce, and proud. When most kids were playing with trucks, I was out in the yard swinging a plastic axe that I bought for Halloween and modified to be a bit more durable. I was sparring with thin air, but it really does go back that far for me. Eventually -- I can't quite pin-point when, but I want to say I was around 10 or so -- I transitioned to focus mainly on swords rather than axes, and the sword has been my passion ever since (to the point where I currently own a polypropelyne hand-and-a-half waster that I train with every few days, as well as a pair of matching training daggers -- and I've got plans to get my first real wooden shield in the very near future).
That warrior ideal has influenced my outlook on my philosophy quite a bit over the years, as well. The deeper that I got into the Celtic traditions, it was the Morrigan and stories of warriors like Cu Chulainn that had me enthralled. I wanted to emulate the uncompromising and indomitable spirit that the warrior tales presented. I had always been headstrong as it was, and felt the need to take it upon myself to protect the people that I cared about. I had a volatile temper that I had some difficulties controlling at that stage. In my youth, I thought the free-flowing berserk battle rage was the epitome of power (I was an angry young man, and bitter in a lot of ways), but I grew up and quite quickly realized that there were flaws in that. This is where the journey comes into play.
In exploring the concepts of the rest of the world, I picked up on other warrior cultures. The vikings were striking in that they reflected a very similar berserk styling to Cu Chulainn that reinforced the ideal a bit at first. The concept that a valorous death was the key to being judged worthy of the afterlife was appealing on a visceral level, but the more that I matured, the more I saw how impractical that was in a modern world. Dying by the sword has become an antiquated notion. So instead, I looked to more "disciplined" cultures for inspiration. I'd always been intrigued by martial arts, and some of the concepts of orders like the Shao Lin seemed to fit my needs quite well -- self control and meditation being chief among them. This is ultimately how I learned to control my temper, and I've had solid reins on it ever since. It's a lot like forging a good weapon; you can't just take a piece of raw ore and expect it to turn into a sword. You have to smelt it, hammer it until the metal is without flaws, and forge it into the right shape for it to be of any use.
When I started to branch and fine tune out my personal philosophies, the warrior ideal played a large part in those selections. When I fully dedicated myself to the Celtic traditions, I chose to devote myself to the Morrigan, first and foremost. This was an easy decision. Not only did the Morrigan have the aspect of a war deity, but she also represented fertility and death, and as a triple-goddess, embodied the cyclical path of life. Cernunnos was another heavily inspirational figure, as a god of nature and the hunt -- a different type of warrior in my view. As my beliefs expanded, Odin was brought into the fold. Like the Morrigan, Odin was associated with war, death, and rebirth of sorts, and like Cernunnos he was associated with the wild hunt. Fitting further into what I value on a symbolic level, Odin is also heavily associated with the raven, a personal totem of mine that I often meditate on for insight and knowledge of my own reality.
On a semi-related note, I've had a rough couple of months because I'd gone so long without keeping these ideals in mind. I started to be a little on-edge, and short-tempered. Long story short, going back to basics and getting back into my sword training and meditation has really gotten me back on track. It's all about having that outlet for any frustrations to be vented in a healthy way, and giving myself time to think and really center myself again. It's easier said than done most times, but it all goes back to the sword analogy -- you've got to be forged before you can be functional.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
World Wandering
I've gone to great lengths to avoid being yet another narrow-minded man of faith over the years. I've gained at least superficial knowledge about most of the various polytheistic cultures of the ancient world, and I've retained most of what I learned about Christianity and Judaism from my time in Catholic school. I've looked into Islam and Hinduism, Buddhism and Taoist Animism, and several of the Pacific Islander traditions as well. It's easy to become highly specialized when you're drawn to philosophy, and I've tried to avoid becoming so specialized that I can't see the forest for the trees. While I do hold certain. . . antagonistic views toward the Catholic church for the actions of the organization over the centuries since its formation, I have little issue with the religion and certainly no issue with the vast majority of its faithful.
For the most part, I associate myself with the Celtic and Druidic traditions. I place tremendous value in the pentacle as a symbol of protection and elemental balance -- as it should be viewed, rather than the symbol of "the devil" that the media (and the Roman Church) has chosen to slap onto it. I place value in the Triquetra (trinity knot), not as a symbol of the Holy Trinity of the Catholics, but as a symbol of the various triumvirates found in the natural world -- youth, adulthood, old age; life, death, rebirth; mind, body, spirit; I could go on. Both symbols are present in multiple cultures with a few variations, and both typically take on a cyclical or protective aspect, quite similar in effect to what the cross has become for Christians.
However, this eclectic study has left me with a few theological differences from many other neo-Celts/neo-Druids. For one, I don't adhere to a strictly Celtic divinity. When you expand your horizons, you're bound to pick up aspects that suit you well enough to incorporate into your perspective, and my expanded studies has certainly led to that. I've grown to think it incredibly short-sighted to think that a single pantheon is the entirety of divinity when you've already taken the step into polytheism. If there's room for an entire pantheon of gods and goddesses, who are you to say that the others aren't every bit as relevant? My personal theory is that all pantheons are co-existent, if separate; the Celts and the Norse, the Greeks and the Egyptians, the Summerians and the Aztecs can all have equal validity when you look at it the right way. In my view, they are ultimately just different "families" (in a more general sense than the ancient myth structure already presents) descended from the greater source of creation (be it Chaos, some ancient titan figure, or even string theory). That goes for the angelic figures of the Abrahamic faiths, too; after all, what's the real difference between figures such as Michael and Thor?
I've adopted a more hybridized form of the Celtic pantheon. While the Morrigan and Cernunnos feature prominently in my worship, I've incorporated several Norse elements into the core of what I do. Odin, in particular, has become a mainstay, as has the use of runecasting as a form of meditative divination (I don't believe that I can tell the future, let me make that clear -- but I do believe that drawing out runes and using the key concept of those runes as a starting point to study a situation can be incredibly useful). There's a lot of overlap between the two, and there rightly should be -- the Celts and Vikings stand as two of the most enduring of the ancient cultures, and certainly held similar values, not to mention the overlap and mingling of their traditions that occurred during Norman invasions of the future British Isles. I think I'll save the why and how of a lot of the incorporation for another post, though, since it really is a long explanation and worthy of its own entry.
Diversity is the key to finding balance in anything. If you're only looking at a situation from one angle, then you're seeing next to nothing. You need those different perspectives to enable you to truly understand what you're looking at. When it comes to diversifying your understanding of polytheism and how pantheons function, you can really find an enlightening blend; what one pantheon may lack, another will likely provide in spades, and if the core themes of one pantheon aren't right for you but one deity speaks so intensely to what you hold dear, there's nothing wrong with incorporating that into your personal philosophy. Remember: the modern world has become a melting pot; where some might wish to remove impurities, they forget that pure metals are weak, and it is only through blending in carbon and other metals that it becomes strong. Forge yourself from diverse sources, wander the world's collective conscious, and find what fits -- that's the key to an enduring sense of faith.
For the most part, I associate myself with the Celtic and Druidic traditions. I place tremendous value in the pentacle as a symbol of protection and elemental balance -- as it should be viewed, rather than the symbol of "the devil" that the media (and the Roman Church) has chosen to slap onto it. I place value in the Triquetra (trinity knot), not as a symbol of the Holy Trinity of the Catholics, but as a symbol of the various triumvirates found in the natural world -- youth, adulthood, old age; life, death, rebirth; mind, body, spirit; I could go on. Both symbols are present in multiple cultures with a few variations, and both typically take on a cyclical or protective aspect, quite similar in effect to what the cross has become for Christians.
However, this eclectic study has left me with a few theological differences from many other neo-Celts/neo-Druids. For one, I don't adhere to a strictly Celtic divinity. When you expand your horizons, you're bound to pick up aspects that suit you well enough to incorporate into your perspective, and my expanded studies has certainly led to that. I've grown to think it incredibly short-sighted to think that a single pantheon is the entirety of divinity when you've already taken the step into polytheism. If there's room for an entire pantheon of gods and goddesses, who are you to say that the others aren't every bit as relevant? My personal theory is that all pantheons are co-existent, if separate; the Celts and the Norse, the Greeks and the Egyptians, the Summerians and the Aztecs can all have equal validity when you look at it the right way. In my view, they are ultimately just different "families" (in a more general sense than the ancient myth structure already presents) descended from the greater source of creation (be it Chaos, some ancient titan figure, or even string theory). That goes for the angelic figures of the Abrahamic faiths, too; after all, what's the real difference between figures such as Michael and Thor?
I've adopted a more hybridized form of the Celtic pantheon. While the Morrigan and Cernunnos feature prominently in my worship, I've incorporated several Norse elements into the core of what I do. Odin, in particular, has become a mainstay, as has the use of runecasting as a form of meditative divination (I don't believe that I can tell the future, let me make that clear -- but I do believe that drawing out runes and using the key concept of those runes as a starting point to study a situation can be incredibly useful). There's a lot of overlap between the two, and there rightly should be -- the Celts and Vikings stand as two of the most enduring of the ancient cultures, and certainly held similar values, not to mention the overlap and mingling of their traditions that occurred during Norman invasions of the future British Isles. I think I'll save the why and how of a lot of the incorporation for another post, though, since it really is a long explanation and worthy of its own entry.
Diversity is the key to finding balance in anything. If you're only looking at a situation from one angle, then you're seeing next to nothing. You need those different perspectives to enable you to truly understand what you're looking at. When it comes to diversifying your understanding of polytheism and how pantheons function, you can really find an enlightening blend; what one pantheon may lack, another will likely provide in spades, and if the core themes of one pantheon aren't right for you but one deity speaks so intensely to what you hold dear, there's nothing wrong with incorporating that into your personal philosophy. Remember: the modern world has become a melting pot; where some might wish to remove impurities, they forget that pure metals are weak, and it is only through blending in carbon and other metals that it becomes strong. Forge yourself from diverse sources, wander the world's collective conscious, and find what fits -- that's the key to an enduring sense of faith.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Walk like those who have come before.
One of the main tenets that drives me in terms of my personal philosophy is the connection that I feel to my ancestors. "Walkabout", in a more global-tradition sense, is precisely that: a practice of the Australian Aborigines where a young man goes into the wilderness and retreads the footsteps of his ancestors. One could easily compare the spiritual and philosophical journey that I've undertaken to the more literal version of the Aborigines, though certainly my process has been less physically grueling and environmentally challenging (though if there was an opportunity for me to do a true, walk-out-into-nature-for-six-months exercise, I'd be all for it).
A lot of the ideological split that started me on this path of dropping the baggage and seeking my own truth came from learning how the Celts were "converted" to Catholicism, and ultimately that's why I still chafe at Catholic traditions to this day (as well as other political and religious movements, for that matter). While I'm not fond of supporting any opposition to the theory of survival of the fittest (I'm a Darwinist at heart, regardless of spiritual philosophy, and I think in many ways most ancient cultures were, as well), I feel that I have to reject the means used to conquer such a proud people. Subversion and assimilation aren't just tools to integrate new people into a larger collective; they are weapons to eradicate what made an enemy who they are. This is why I cannot accept the Catholic preaching of respecting others and being proponents of peace -- they are and have always been proponents of war and destruction of other cultures.
That was what initially led me to drop the weight of Catholicism to the ground and seek out a new path. When I felt the call of the Celtic traditions, I knew that I was on the right track. Obviously, I'm not saying it's the right path for everyone -- that's something that each individual has to decide on their own -- but for me, looking back to what those traditional myths and legends represented and what those gods and goddesses brought forward was an important step. I also took a good, hard look at what was valued by the Celtic peoples. While much of the true nature of the Celts was indeed eradicated by the Roman Catholic empire's expansion, there are several notes that stand out above the rest: the Celts had a deep love of the arts, a deep love of storytelling, and a deep love for battle.
Naturally, those three things don't tell us much. Every culture appreciates the arts, otherwise we would have nothing left to visualize what those cultures were like. Every culture needed storytelling, as before written history, the oral tradition was all that we had. Every culture prized warfare, because that was the primary means of ensuring one's survival among the others. However, approached from the Celtic perspective, these things take on a different light. Celtic artwork has a certain affect, a certain character, to it that other cultures lacked. Celtic stories relate their world in an ever-so-slightly different manner from other cultures. Celtic warfare reflected the truth of the times, that battle was a primal, dangerous thing better met with ferocity than with regimented drills. While they may have met their ultimate end at the hands of the Holy Roman empire, the Celts were preserved as glimpses in the key holidays, which allowed for the Celtic Revival to occur centuries later. The Celts were survivors, and that in particular is something that I seek to emulate.
A lot of the ideological split that started me on this path of dropping the baggage and seeking my own truth came from learning how the Celts were "converted" to Catholicism, and ultimately that's why I still chafe at Catholic traditions to this day (as well as other political and religious movements, for that matter). While I'm not fond of supporting any opposition to the theory of survival of the fittest (I'm a Darwinist at heart, regardless of spiritual philosophy, and I think in many ways most ancient cultures were, as well), I feel that I have to reject the means used to conquer such a proud people. Subversion and assimilation aren't just tools to integrate new people into a larger collective; they are weapons to eradicate what made an enemy who they are. This is why I cannot accept the Catholic preaching of respecting others and being proponents of peace -- they are and have always been proponents of war and destruction of other cultures.
That was what initially led me to drop the weight of Catholicism to the ground and seek out a new path. When I felt the call of the Celtic traditions, I knew that I was on the right track. Obviously, I'm not saying it's the right path for everyone -- that's something that each individual has to decide on their own -- but for me, looking back to what those traditional myths and legends represented and what those gods and goddesses brought forward was an important step. I also took a good, hard look at what was valued by the Celtic peoples. While much of the true nature of the Celts was indeed eradicated by the Roman Catholic empire's expansion, there are several notes that stand out above the rest: the Celts had a deep love of the arts, a deep love of storytelling, and a deep love for battle.
Naturally, those three things don't tell us much. Every culture appreciates the arts, otherwise we would have nothing left to visualize what those cultures were like. Every culture needed storytelling, as before written history, the oral tradition was all that we had. Every culture prized warfare, because that was the primary means of ensuring one's survival among the others. However, approached from the Celtic perspective, these things take on a different light. Celtic artwork has a certain affect, a certain character, to it that other cultures lacked. Celtic stories relate their world in an ever-so-slightly different manner from other cultures. Celtic warfare reflected the truth of the times, that battle was a primal, dangerous thing better met with ferocity than with regimented drills. While they may have met their ultimate end at the hands of the Holy Roman empire, the Celts were preserved as glimpses in the key holidays, which allowed for the Celtic Revival to occur centuries later. The Celts were survivors, and that in particular is something that I seek to emulate.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
What is walkabout?
Walkabout is a straight-forward and simple concept that goes straight to the core of what I do. When you go on walkabout, you leave everything that holds you down and keeps you from making forward progress in the world behind in search of something new and better. This can be done in a literal sense -- walking out the front door and spending the next eight or ten hours simply walking through the neighborhood and beyond -- or it can be far more metaphorical. I am a true supporter of the idea in both senses. Sometimes, you just have to go on walkabout.
I'm currently 26 years old, and for the better part of the last decade, I have held beliefs that can be best described as druidic in nature and hybridized Celtic in origin. I suppose that could be viewed as the first time that I entertained the notion of a walkabout. I was raised in a heavily Catholic environment, with all of the spiritual and emotional baggage that comes with it. My mother was never heavily religious, so I was spared the full brunt of the church, but my father's side of the family is fairly devout in varying degrees (though I wouldn't call them hard-liners). However, the first nine years of my education were spent in a Catholic elementary school, where Religion was a daily class period and there was a scheduled in-school mass at least once a month (not to mention confession before the holidays). Suffice to say, that wasn't "my religion". It didn't click, it never really made me bow down in belief. The attitudes of the nuns and the generally disingenuous way that the priests gave their sermons made it clear to me that what they were preaching, wasn't what I was interested in.
So shortly after leaving that environment, I started to drop the baggage. The significance of the holidays was the first to go, followed by the general sense of obligation to feel "wrong" for doing things that are part of basic human nature. We're animals -- pure and simple. If some creator god made us as animals with base instincts and needs and desires, then why should we deny those desires (within reason, of course). It occurred to me at a very young age that most of what organized religion was preaching was all about social control, and I didn't want that kind of leash around my neck. My little journey took me through dalliances with atheism (too nihilistic for me, not enough science exists to back it up just yet), Satanism (LaVey had some good points: why should we deny the self? But ultimately, too much Id here, not enough moderation), and a glancing look at Wicca (dime-store New Age consumerism in my book at the time, though I've gained some new-found respect for it recently). Ultimately, I came to the logical conclusion based on my heritage.
Coming from a family that is Irish on my mother's side and Scottish on my father's, I've always been drawn to that Celtic heritage, so that's where I started my search. Just about immediately, I was drawn to the stories about the Celtic gods and goddesses of Ireland, the Tuatha de Danu, and the image presented by one goddess in particular: The Morrigan. There's a sense of balance to the Morrigan that I find appealing for three reasons: the duality of being a fertility goddess and a death goddess, the war-goddess aspect, and the primal reaction that I have due to her association with the raven in Irish tradition. At that shallow level that I began at, it made sense for me to find a deity that simply resonated with me on a surface level to term my patron -- regardless of why I was doing it. Ultimately, however, it has proven to be a far better match than I had ever expected, and as my journey into my own spirituality has continued, the bond that I feel toward the concept of the Morrigan has only grown stronger (personal evolution and modern minds being what they are, I've since included some Norse and middle-eastern elements as well, but more on that later).
Walkabout has been a recurring theme in my life since then. Whenever stress becomes too much for me, I can just grab my coat and head out the door to let the sidewalks and trails be my comforting shoulder. Whenever I run into a problem with someone that simply cannot be solved, for one reason or another, I have no problem with dropping that baggage and walking on without it. Some might call the ease of how I shed that baggage cold and callous, but I see it in a different light: it truly is a healing act. When someone is being sickened by an infection, they aren't considered cold for taking medicine to get rid of it. This is no different. Walkabout is just another form of spiritual and mental healing, and can be a wonderful experience if you do it for the right reasons. It's all about the journey, and that journey is life: If you never step through that door and begin the journey, you will always remain exactly where you are.
Simply put, walkabout is a way of life.
I'm currently 26 years old, and for the better part of the last decade, I have held beliefs that can be best described as druidic in nature and hybridized Celtic in origin. I suppose that could be viewed as the first time that I entertained the notion of a walkabout. I was raised in a heavily Catholic environment, with all of the spiritual and emotional baggage that comes with it. My mother was never heavily religious, so I was spared the full brunt of the church, but my father's side of the family is fairly devout in varying degrees (though I wouldn't call them hard-liners). However, the first nine years of my education were spent in a Catholic elementary school, where Religion was a daily class period and there was a scheduled in-school mass at least once a month (not to mention confession before the holidays). Suffice to say, that wasn't "my religion". It didn't click, it never really made me bow down in belief. The attitudes of the nuns and the generally disingenuous way that the priests gave their sermons made it clear to me that what they were preaching, wasn't what I was interested in.
So shortly after leaving that environment, I started to drop the baggage. The significance of the holidays was the first to go, followed by the general sense of obligation to feel "wrong" for doing things that are part of basic human nature. We're animals -- pure and simple. If some creator god made us as animals with base instincts and needs and desires, then why should we deny those desires (within reason, of course). It occurred to me at a very young age that most of what organized religion was preaching was all about social control, and I didn't want that kind of leash around my neck. My little journey took me through dalliances with atheism (too nihilistic for me, not enough science exists to back it up just yet), Satanism (LaVey had some good points: why should we deny the self? But ultimately, too much Id here, not enough moderation), and a glancing look at Wicca (dime-store New Age consumerism in my book at the time, though I've gained some new-found respect for it recently). Ultimately, I came to the logical conclusion based on my heritage.
Coming from a family that is Irish on my mother's side and Scottish on my father's, I've always been drawn to that Celtic heritage, so that's where I started my search. Just about immediately, I was drawn to the stories about the Celtic gods and goddesses of Ireland, the Tuatha de Danu, and the image presented by one goddess in particular: The Morrigan. There's a sense of balance to the Morrigan that I find appealing for three reasons: the duality of being a fertility goddess and a death goddess, the war-goddess aspect, and the primal reaction that I have due to her association with the raven in Irish tradition. At that shallow level that I began at, it made sense for me to find a deity that simply resonated with me on a surface level to term my patron -- regardless of why I was doing it. Ultimately, however, it has proven to be a far better match than I had ever expected, and as my journey into my own spirituality has continued, the bond that I feel toward the concept of the Morrigan has only grown stronger (personal evolution and modern minds being what they are, I've since included some Norse and middle-eastern elements as well, but more on that later).
Walkabout has been a recurring theme in my life since then. Whenever stress becomes too much for me, I can just grab my coat and head out the door to let the sidewalks and trails be my comforting shoulder. Whenever I run into a problem with someone that simply cannot be solved, for one reason or another, I have no problem with dropping that baggage and walking on without it. Some might call the ease of how I shed that baggage cold and callous, but I see it in a different light: it truly is a healing act. When someone is being sickened by an infection, they aren't considered cold for taking medicine to get rid of it. This is no different. Walkabout is just another form of spiritual and mental healing, and can be a wonderful experience if you do it for the right reasons. It's all about the journey, and that journey is life: If you never step through that door and begin the journey, you will always remain exactly where you are.
Simply put, walkabout is a way of life.