I'm going to go into something that can be a bit controversial in the pagan community. There's a lot of talk about white magic and black magic. Those who are willing to go a bit beyond the harmless prayers for protection or health and delve into a more selfish pursuit of their own interests -- often at the expense of others -- are said to be "on the left-hand path". Now these assertions are more commonly associated with Wicca and with pseudo-Christian offshoots (ie Satanism -- yes indeed, kiddies; if you as a Christian recognize Satan as an entity, you too are a polytheist!), but there are still some funny looks one gets as a traditional pagan for letting the darker side of the myths in.
A few months ago, however, I had a bit of a personal epiphany that I should have had a long time ago, and that I'm sure I'm not the only one who has reached. I was re-reading the Eddas, in particular the Ragnarok myth, and reflecting on the nature of Fenris. Here we have an entity who is half-divine and gifted with tremendous strength, bound by unbreakable restraints for his entire existence, and destined to bring the end to the established order. Fenris' destiny is to kill Odin, the lord of the Aesir who spared the wolf's life and ensured that he would survive long enough to do so, and to be slain in the process by another. I began to ponder, as I often do, on the nature of the "end of the world" myths in general, and saw the pattern once again in Ragnarok as with the Mayan and native-American traditions; the end is only temporary, as a new beginning will come soon after.
Yes, Fenris is indeed a grim entity. This dark force is necessary, however, to stimulate change. Without Fenris, the events of Ragnarok would ultimately leave the status-quo, with Odin remaining at the vanguard of the Aesir -- there would be no end-of-days, only a tragic rebuilding of the old world. However, I began to look upon society as a whole today. As the corruption flows through society, can one deny that we need a Fenris-aspect to bring about a change in the modern age? Obviously, I don't view it as a scenario where Odin would be the one to fall before the fangs; my more eclectic pagan view includes a healthy amount of respect for all world religions, if not for the churches associated with them. The simple reality is that the gods and goddesses of the old traditions are no longer a representative of the status-quo; the old ways are no longer insular, as we are no longer broken into regional tribes, but rather united as a global community. Indeed, a Fenris-aspect in modern times would suggest that it would be the fall of something more universally dominant. Be it the fall of overly-aggressive capitalism, socially confining class warfare, the subversive presence of the Christian church seeking to overwhelm American society, or any number of other corrupting influences, a change does indeed feel imminent.
I'm proud to add Fenris as one of my patron entities. I've gained a great deal of respect for him as a divine force, despite his opposition to Odin, and in some ways, I would say that I've grown to identify more with Fenris than any other at this point. Perhaps that is a factor of my own desire for change in recent months, but the wolf in unbreakable bonds should not be feared as he once was. The same goes for other seemingly sinister forces; names like Loki, Balor, Hades, Apep -- and yes, even Lucifer -- are not necessarily the enemy of humanity. Sometimes these antagonistic figures are simply that -- antagonists that urge us into action and provoke change for the good of us all.
So here's to embracing that darkness and accepting that the world is not all light. Walk the middle path, and do not become blinded by either.
Showing posts with label Unified Pantheon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Unified Pantheon. Show all posts
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Personal Totems
Following up on my previous post...
Choosing your totems is a deeply personal process and one open to interpretive selection. It may seem simple at first: look up the typical symbolism associated with the totem and see if the proverbial shoe fits. The reality is a bit more involved. What if your view on the totem is different from that held by the majority of the occult community? Does that make you wrong for seeing things in a different light? No; well, not as long as you can support your perspective with a well-thought out and well-reasoned answer. This is one of the many reasons not to concern yourself with seemingly cliched totem choices. Totemic spirits have gained that place in lore for a reason: these animals/beasts (as yes, even mythic beasts count as potential totems) serve a specific purpose that has made them important to humanity at one point or another. As an example, I'm going to share my own key totems and a bit on the reasons I've chosen them.
As a bit of a primer, I do feel that I should note that I've chosen my totems based on my ancestry. This isn't necessary, nor is it really relevant, but my spirituality being what it is, the link to tradition reinforces the bond. My totemic core connects to the heart of Irish myth with a healthy dose from the Norse influences that I've incorporated in recent years. Beyond that, I tend to use a more primal visual aspect when undergoing any sort of meditation, often going back to prehistory when possible. This is more a matter of personal preference; I do so as an effort to connect with a more or less pure state of the universe before humanity had a chance to start mucking it all up.
By far the most important totem for me is and has always been the corvidae, ravens and crows. Before I even started to really look into pagan traditions, these keenly intelligent and inquisitive birds fascinated me. As I took those first steps into the pagan path, they became far more important. As aspects of the Morrigan in Irish tradition (the goddesses Nemain and Babd both manifested as ravens) and as pets of Odin in the Norse tradition (Hugin and Mugin, memory and wisdom), the corvids are connected to both of my key patron gods (and in an odd coincidence, my name is an adaptation of the Welsh name for ravens; go figure). Not surprisingly considering the mythology, the corvid is a totem of the mind. These birds are among the most intelligent to be found, capable of mimicking speech, forming elaborate social bonds, and demonstrating impressive memory. For me, ravens and crows represent this primal sort of intelligence that we've lost touch with, one focused on survival and innovation without the niceties that we confine ourselves within. Ravens are very much the mental part of my totemic core, and one that I never leave behind; I wear a necklace that I've removed perhaps twice in the last year and a half with a simple silhouette of a raven on it for a reason, after all.
The second key totem is one that I never really connected with until recent shifts in my perspective. I never really associated myself with the wolf due to the cliches attached to them. Many of the more out-there types in the occult community, particularly when dealing with those who support the concept of a spirit-beast/animal-soul paradigm, default to the wolf as the standard (lycanthropy has its roots in Euro-descended cultures for a reason; sometimes the cliche makes sense, after all). In light of my newfound connection to the Fenris myth (which will likely be a future subject in its own right), the wolf has gained a higher importance for me as a totemic symbol. Much as the ancients did, I view the wolf as a predatory agent of change. The wolf, for me, is a dual-aspected symbol. On the one hand, the wolf is the lurker in the darkness, waiting for the weakened members of the herd to wander too far from the safety of numbers and become vulnerable -- the wolf encourages evolution through thinning out the weak, serving as a representative of survival of the fittest. On the other, the wolf represents the safety of the pack -- the fundamental reward of keeping in close with those you can trust and forming strong bonds with those who can shore up your own weaknesses with their strengths. This duality combines to perform both tasks at once, reminding you that not only do you need to refine your weaknesses, but you need to remember the value of others in supporting those weaknesses you've yet to overcome. The wolf is very much the spiritual component of my totemic core for that very reason.
That would seem to leave the physical aspect, eh? Most fitting from my totemic core for that would be the bull. Bulls are often associated with fertility and with agriculture, which is all well and good, but has nothing to do with why I connect with them. For me, the bull is a symbol of the warrior ideal. Warriors, as I see them, should be calm and accommodating when at peace, but ready to unleash their full destructive fury when pressed. Bulls present that same potential. By and large, the bull in the wild spends its life grazing in the fields and striving to avoid falling prey to predators, while its domestic counterparts have served dutifully as work animals and provide great nourishment. When forced to action, however, bulls can be as fierce as any beast and easily remind us of their incredible strength. This, to me, is far more valuable than any sort of devotion to the tiger or lion (more aggressive, predatory physical totems) as it has a much more accessible relation to daily life. What good is great strength in a society where using it would make you either intolerable or a mere brute? Far better to build that strength in the off-chance it may be needed and to be able to defend oneself as a last resort. I suspect that in a different age, I may have chosen differently here; hundreds of years ago, in the age of the sword, one would do very well to invoke the lion. Perhaps it is a sign of humanity's domestication of itself that selecting a beast of burden would make so much sense.
There are, of course, others that I find valuable. The Irish Elk is a strong candidate, as is the great bear. Dragons are, in all honesty, a bit too versatile for my liking as a totem, though they are excellent for heraldry and iconography. Perhaps more than any other aspect of esoteric pagan belief, totemic thinking is an interpretive art and your mileage may vary. Ultimately, you just have to sort out what is most important and most relevant to your needs.
Choosing your totems is a deeply personal process and one open to interpretive selection. It may seem simple at first: look up the typical symbolism associated with the totem and see if the proverbial shoe fits. The reality is a bit more involved. What if your view on the totem is different from that held by the majority of the occult community? Does that make you wrong for seeing things in a different light? No; well, not as long as you can support your perspective with a well-thought out and well-reasoned answer. This is one of the many reasons not to concern yourself with seemingly cliched totem choices. Totemic spirits have gained that place in lore for a reason: these animals/beasts (as yes, even mythic beasts count as potential totems) serve a specific purpose that has made them important to humanity at one point or another. As an example, I'm going to share my own key totems and a bit on the reasons I've chosen them.
As a bit of a primer, I do feel that I should note that I've chosen my totems based on my ancestry. This isn't necessary, nor is it really relevant, but my spirituality being what it is, the link to tradition reinforces the bond. My totemic core connects to the heart of Irish myth with a healthy dose from the Norse influences that I've incorporated in recent years. Beyond that, I tend to use a more primal visual aspect when undergoing any sort of meditation, often going back to prehistory when possible. This is more a matter of personal preference; I do so as an effort to connect with a more or less pure state of the universe before humanity had a chance to start mucking it all up.
By far the most important totem for me is and has always been the corvidae, ravens and crows. Before I even started to really look into pagan traditions, these keenly intelligent and inquisitive birds fascinated me. As I took those first steps into the pagan path, they became far more important. As aspects of the Morrigan in Irish tradition (the goddesses Nemain and Babd both manifested as ravens) and as pets of Odin in the Norse tradition (Hugin and Mugin, memory and wisdom), the corvids are connected to both of my key patron gods (and in an odd coincidence, my name is an adaptation of the Welsh name for ravens; go figure). Not surprisingly considering the mythology, the corvid is a totem of the mind. These birds are among the most intelligent to be found, capable of mimicking speech, forming elaborate social bonds, and demonstrating impressive memory. For me, ravens and crows represent this primal sort of intelligence that we've lost touch with, one focused on survival and innovation without the niceties that we confine ourselves within. Ravens are very much the mental part of my totemic core, and one that I never leave behind; I wear a necklace that I've removed perhaps twice in the last year and a half with a simple silhouette of a raven on it for a reason, after all.
The second key totem is one that I never really connected with until recent shifts in my perspective. I never really associated myself with the wolf due to the cliches attached to them. Many of the more out-there types in the occult community, particularly when dealing with those who support the concept of a spirit-beast/animal-soul paradigm, default to the wolf as the standard (lycanthropy has its roots in Euro-descended cultures for a reason; sometimes the cliche makes sense, after all). In light of my newfound connection to the Fenris myth (which will likely be a future subject in its own right), the wolf has gained a higher importance for me as a totemic symbol. Much as the ancients did, I view the wolf as a predatory agent of change. The wolf, for me, is a dual-aspected symbol. On the one hand, the wolf is the lurker in the darkness, waiting for the weakened members of the herd to wander too far from the safety of numbers and become vulnerable -- the wolf encourages evolution through thinning out the weak, serving as a representative of survival of the fittest. On the other, the wolf represents the safety of the pack -- the fundamental reward of keeping in close with those you can trust and forming strong bonds with those who can shore up your own weaknesses with their strengths. This duality combines to perform both tasks at once, reminding you that not only do you need to refine your weaknesses, but you need to remember the value of others in supporting those weaknesses you've yet to overcome. The wolf is very much the spiritual component of my totemic core for that very reason.
That would seem to leave the physical aspect, eh? Most fitting from my totemic core for that would be the bull. Bulls are often associated with fertility and with agriculture, which is all well and good, but has nothing to do with why I connect with them. For me, the bull is a symbol of the warrior ideal. Warriors, as I see them, should be calm and accommodating when at peace, but ready to unleash their full destructive fury when pressed. Bulls present that same potential. By and large, the bull in the wild spends its life grazing in the fields and striving to avoid falling prey to predators, while its domestic counterparts have served dutifully as work animals and provide great nourishment. When forced to action, however, bulls can be as fierce as any beast and easily remind us of their incredible strength. This, to me, is far more valuable than any sort of devotion to the tiger or lion (more aggressive, predatory physical totems) as it has a much more accessible relation to daily life. What good is great strength in a society where using it would make you either intolerable or a mere brute? Far better to build that strength in the off-chance it may be needed and to be able to defend oneself as a last resort. I suspect that in a different age, I may have chosen differently here; hundreds of years ago, in the age of the sword, one would do very well to invoke the lion. Perhaps it is a sign of humanity's domestication of itself that selecting a beast of burden would make so much sense.
There are, of course, others that I find valuable. The Irish Elk is a strong candidate, as is the great bear. Dragons are, in all honesty, a bit too versatile for my liking as a totem, though they are excellent for heraldry and iconography. Perhaps more than any other aspect of esoteric pagan belief, totemic thinking is an interpretive art and your mileage may vary. Ultimately, you just have to sort out what is most important and most relevant to your needs.
Friday, October 21, 2011
The Golden Age, Upheaval, and Change
There is a recurring theme of the Golden Age in most mythologies surrounding the time before the fall of the old order. What constitutes the old order can vary widely: to the Greeks it was the act of Prometheus stealing fire and delivering it into the hands of man, to the Norse it was the period following the end of Ragnarok, the Hindu have a 5000 year cycle (the Maha Yuga) with recurring Golden Ages that require a tearing down of their "iron age". This extends even to the Abrahamic traditions with Adam and Eve being cast out of Eden for partaking of the fruit of knowledge of good and evil.
This Golden Age often alludes to nature being incredibly bountiful, providing everything that humanity could wish for and more. There is a pronounced presence of the otherworldly. In many cases, the gods dwelt in the same realm as mankind. In Greece, Pan served as a mentor in Arcadia, living amongst his students in the trees. The Eden myth is almost ubiquitous, depicting a paradise where the Abrahamic God resided alongside his creation. The upheaval and fall of the old order always brings this Golden Age to an end, and humanity is left to struggle with the wilderness in a new and harsh environment, fraught with conflict, etc; you know the drill from there.
This is ultimately one of the myths that leads me to my unified theory about the myths and legends. It is far from the only overlap (I'll likely discuss some of them at another date), but this is a rather striking point. This Golden Age would imply that not only were the myths of the gods true, but might also imply the same for other myths and legends. It is widely accepted that in the post-mythological era, magic and monsters are a thing of the past (albeit, this is an acceptance that took quite a while to be complete), at least in the sense that mythology demonstrates. Depending on one's outlook, myth has either always been just stories, or a thing of the past. The recurrence of the Golden Age concept seems to suggest the latter in my opinion; though it has little to no bearing on the present, the idea that this multi-culture spanning concept could stand as an example of where -- or rather when -- these legends originated seems like too great of a coincidence.
Most of these myths appear to be parallel to each other. The numbers may not be reliable in any sense of the word, nor would they suggest anything remotely resembling the Golden Age returning any time soon, but the idea of a returning cycle seems to make sense. Symbols of eternity are rampant throughout mythology, and much as the seasons themselves, humanity's path seems to move in a repeating circle. The notion of falling and returning to this paradise, to this utopia of a Golden Age doesn't seem so far fetched when one considers how far we must fall and how quickly we climb in our scientific pursuits.
And yet, that poses another question, more philosophical in nature than theoretical contemplation of mythologies: If humanity flows through cycles of time, rising and falling to and from a Golden Age paradise, are we in our current path ascending or crashing down to earth?
This Golden Age often alludes to nature being incredibly bountiful, providing everything that humanity could wish for and more. There is a pronounced presence of the otherworldly. In many cases, the gods dwelt in the same realm as mankind. In Greece, Pan served as a mentor in Arcadia, living amongst his students in the trees. The Eden myth is almost ubiquitous, depicting a paradise where the Abrahamic God resided alongside his creation. The upheaval and fall of the old order always brings this Golden Age to an end, and humanity is left to struggle with the wilderness in a new and harsh environment, fraught with conflict, etc; you know the drill from there.
This is ultimately one of the myths that leads me to my unified theory about the myths and legends. It is far from the only overlap (I'll likely discuss some of them at another date), but this is a rather striking point. This Golden Age would imply that not only were the myths of the gods true, but might also imply the same for other myths and legends. It is widely accepted that in the post-mythological era, magic and monsters are a thing of the past (albeit, this is an acceptance that took quite a while to be complete), at least in the sense that mythology demonstrates. Depending on one's outlook, myth has either always been just stories, or a thing of the past. The recurrence of the Golden Age concept seems to suggest the latter in my opinion; though it has little to no bearing on the present, the idea that this multi-culture spanning concept could stand as an example of where -- or rather when -- these legends originated seems like too great of a coincidence.
Most of these myths appear to be parallel to each other. The numbers may not be reliable in any sense of the word, nor would they suggest anything remotely resembling the Golden Age returning any time soon, but the idea of a returning cycle seems to make sense. Symbols of eternity are rampant throughout mythology, and much as the seasons themselves, humanity's path seems to move in a repeating circle. The notion of falling and returning to this paradise, to this utopia of a Golden Age doesn't seem so far fetched when one considers how far we must fall and how quickly we climb in our scientific pursuits.
And yet, that poses another question, more philosophical in nature than theoretical contemplation of mythologies: If humanity flows through cycles of time, rising and falling to and from a Golden Age paradise, are we in our current path ascending or crashing down to earth?
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)