Maiuma 2015

On the night of the Maiuma, a festival to commemorate the joining of Dionysos and Aphrodite… A night of love, passion, revelry and baptism...

I shouldn’t be surprised… that one of my favorite bands are playing the same night.

I shouldn’t be surprised… that the singer of the band tells me that she thinks of my husband often, even though she only met him twice, and we speak in depth of love and death.

I shouldn’t be surprised.... that a total stranger asks me to talk about sexuality and the nature of unconditional love as I’m sipping strawberry beer.

I shouldn’t be surprised… that being the only person dancing on the dance floor is still worth it.

I shouldn’t be surprised… that another stranger tells me my dancing made the night even better for him.

I shouldn’t be surprised… that the band ends up playing 2 ½ sets because the other two bands cancel at the last minute.

I shouldn’t be surprised… that the night smells like rain and nostalgia.

I shouldn’t be surprised… that my mom remembered to buy me strawberries so I could make something special for a feast.

I shouldn’t be surprised… that wine and cider make a lovely combination.

I shouldn’t be surprised… that hot baths still make my heart pound.

I shouldn’t be surprised… that I have tears left to cry, though they are not happy or sad, but something else.

I shouldn’t be surprised… that the three red candles on the altar haven’t burnt out yet.

...

I shouldn’t be surprised… that I can still be surprised at all.  But I hope I never stop.

Heart-joined & Hand-fasted

On September 9th I married my partner, true love and soul-mate.

 

I don't say soul-mate lightly.  I remember well an unexpected, overwhelming feeling of epiphany one day, so strong that I wept, that in my love for him and the subsequent choices I made, I had fulfilled something karmic.  And every day that I wake up next to him or see him smile, I know how incredibly lucky we are.

 

He asked me to marry him in February, on a devotional day to Aphrodite (though he did not know the day's significance at the time). 

 

Our legal marriage on the 9th was a simple affair at the court, but was just the first.  Our wedding is three-fold.  The 2nd was a private ceremony in the woods on the Autumn Equinox, and the 3rd (which was last weekend) was a public rite and reception for friends and family.  Doing it three times wasn't our original plan, but developed over time as we searched for ways to incorporate everything most important to us without compromising anything.  I've come to see it as binding on the physical, spiritual and mental planes, respectively.

 

Because of him, I became and continue to become more spiritual, and a better person, and closer to Dionysos.  These were not his intentions of course, but simply the side-effects -- of falling in love, of learning selflessness, of being torn apart and put back together, of riding the ecstatic highs and devastating lows.  (For our road was not always easy.)  He is Dionysian in his particular beauty, creativity, trickster nature, and all the ways he's liberated me.  Even his last name which I have chosen to share has Dionysian qualities.  Did I come to love Dionysos more because of him or him more because of Dionysos?  Such a question needs no answer.

 

And though I tend to search for definition, his own spirituality defies definition, is fluid and shamanic and highly personal.  I learn much from him though he would probably not call himself a teacher.  Sometimes I still marvel at the depth of conversation we are able to achieve about abstract things, particularly spirituality.  It's as if our similar viewpoints combined with our inherent understanding of each other can bridge the gaps when we reach things that are hard to explain in words.  We have been known to share dreams -- something we are still exploring, and which I have never had with anyone.

 

We both met in the shake up of our Saturn returns, and getting married feels like the resolution to that era.  Together we redefined ourselves, and now the future seems even more full of possibility. 

 

(And I have to add that during our wedding reception this past weekend, I was finally able to dance again - after over 2 months of recovering from a broken foot!)

There Is No "i" in Beltane, Except When There Is

I read an article on Patheos.com by Galina Krasskova about Beltane, where she suggests that Beltane reminds us to honor our physical bodies, to see the sacredness and beauty of our bodies and the experiences they give us.  She asks, "How many of us can look in the mirror and say 'I love my physical form' and mean it?"  That exercise is not new, by any means.  And I was glossing over it a bit at first -- yes yes, self-esteem and self-love and all that -- but the part of me that's been trying to witness my own thought processes and reactions more lately made me stop.  Because somewhere in my glossing over it was this feeling of, "Sure, I can do that exercise.  But I'd rather do it later on, down the road, when I've lost a little weight."

 

Which is, of course, so NOT the point that it's the antithesis of the point. 

 

It made me start thinking of the ways we put conditions on things.  From the "I'll feel sexier when I've lost a few pounds" all the way down to "I'll be happy when [insert your happy thing of choice]".  And for me, there was some initial internal resistance to the idea of letting those conditions go.  As if I wouldn't have control of the things I wish to change anymore, or my sense of the ideal version of me would be lost.  But really, there is no ideal version of me "out there", or in the future or past.  I know I *can* love my physical form now, but in short, I've chosen not to.  And it is a choice even when it's an unconscious one.  Just like choosing to be happy.

 

As pagans, we strive to be close to nature, to earth's cycles, to the physical manifestations of the divine around us.  That manifestation isn't pristine or flawless or homogenized.  The fact is, we are one of many imperfect animals that sweat, rut, consume, defecate, and eventually decay and die.  We are no less sacred in whatever form we currently are.  As Galina says more eloquently:

 

"...each physical vessel of incarnation is intimately connected to one's soul, an integral part of it. We're incarnate for a reason. Our bodies are the tools and conduits by and through which we experience everything, including the Divine. Moreover, they may even be the way the Gods experience us, spirituality being, like so many things, a two-way street. Far from needing to escape from the flesh, Beltane reminds us that there's an awful lot of wisdom inherent in being in the flesh too."

 

So I'm going to make more of an effort to "be" in my own skin, to love this body -- hand tremors, osteoporosis, curves and all other supposed imperfections -- it IS beautiful.  I think a lot of people I know who struggle physically more than I (ie have legitimate pain or health issus) would say that I am lucky, that I'm pretty and don't have major problems, so it should be easy for me.  (The implication that it should be easier for me than it is for them.)  But that's just another condition, and I think that is a tendency we ALL have.  A knee-jerk reaction to the radical surrender of allowing ourselves to be perfect in the now.  I think that when we feel, and more importantly when we *embody* gratitude, that we would actually begin to move easier in our own bodies.  There's no "been there, done that" when it comes to love or self-love because it's both eternal and ongoing.  I'm sure Aphrodite would have much to teach me about all this.

 

Sorry for getting all "Power of Now".  Back to your regularly scheduled internal dialogues... (Dialogues?  Monologues?  How many people are in this head anyway?) 

Anthesterion

Looking ahead, this is going to be a busy month!!  On top of my regular devotional days, there's two 3 day blocks of events.

 

The first... this week over the Noumenia, I'm taking a camping trip with my two dearest and most spiritual friends.  We have no specific rituals planned, but simply being out in nature for a while will be nice.  For certain, I would like to build a shrine to the nymphs and try to commune with them.  Other than that, and ringing in the Noumenia and reaffirming commitments, I just planning on being open to any spontaneous experiences or encounters.  If we have time we may drive more northward to search for amanitas.  

 

Then there's the Anthesteria... I'm working on the actual dates, so I'm pushing my celebration of those three days back to the full moon and the day before and after.  I haven't really attempted something like this before.  The idea is both exciting and intimidating. 

 

I'm still planning what I'd like to do for Anthesteria - but after reading Otto's Dionysos, I'm suddenly rather taken with the idea of both making a mask for the god and integrating that into my rituals. 

 

The Aiora (swinging festival) really intrigues me.  Even as an adult I would readily admit that I enjoy going swinging.  There was a night perhaps a year and a half ago, where a solo walk ended up with me spontaneously swinging in an empty park.  My life was on the threshold of a lot of change at the time, and the act of it felt very significant, though I didn't know why.  I just remember swinging, looking at the moon, and both crying and feeling inexplicably joyful at the same time.  That people might have once approached the act in a spiritual sense never even occurred to me before, but makes sense.  I'm looking forward to this.

 

So, so far, it looks like the first day will be creative (mask making) and celebratory (flowers and feasting).  Second day, the more intense work including the Aiora and some form of the sacred rite in the evening (trance and mind-altering substances likely).  Third day, offerings to the dead and hymns to Hermes, perhaps a trip to the cemetery.  Smudging and cleansing at the end of the day seems appropriate.

 

I'm working on Valentine's Day, but maybe I'll still try to fit in something extra with Aphrodite.  I know a lot of people who dislike the holiday.  Myself, I've loved ALL holidays since I was a kid.  And one that's dedicated to love?  How can that be bad?  In my opinion, if you let yourself get bogged down by the commercialism then you have no one but yourself to blame.  It's not the responsibility of commercial industries to keep the sacred in our holy days, it's our own.  (End rant.)  I'm sure my parents were an influence here too.  I never saw Valentine's Day as solely for romantic love, partly because they always got my siblings and I our own individual cards (and candy, naturally) expressing their love for each of us as individuals.   

 

There's other projects and miscellany and goals, but those are the big ones!

love is the every only god

Thursday I had set aside as a devotional day for Aphrodite.  Somewhat unplanned, I ended up spending the whole day with someone I love very dearly, and we had some very intense and heartfelt conversation.  Even looking back on the conversation itself, there is an air of something incredibly sacred about it. 

 

So was the intention of having this devotional day ahead of time part of how it turned out, very much a day devoted to Her, though not the way I planned?  Is it simply synchronous?    I had in the back of my mind a bit of guilt that I hadn't meditated for the goddess specifically, hadn't done any of the solitary things I had planned.  I didn't even give her offerings until Friday.  But would She mind, considering how it went?  A interesting lesson in what devotion is - not always what is planned, and that the spontaneous participation in life and its synchronicities can be even more powerful.

 

I am so filled to the brim with gratitude to Aphrodite and Dionysos and the immanent Divine for the gifts I've been given (and just as importantly, the knowledge to see these gifts with clarity) that I'm not sure how to express or repay it sufficiently.  I am blessed.  But how could I not be?  I am god, as are You.