Community – Feminism and Religion

Who Turns the Wheel? Gender in the Modern Pagan Year, part 2 by Myriapath

Part 1, yesterday traced how the eight-festival Wheel of the Year was assembled in the middle of the twentieth century from older ingredients, some surviving only in a line or two of medieval writing. It began with a blessing. Writing for this site in July 2017, Carol P. Christ closed a post with words that name no gender at all: “As we bless the Source of Life, so we are blessed.” We return to it at the end.”

The divine couple, and who was told no

The gendering was there from the beginning. Hutton describes Gardner’s earliest seasonal rites as pairing a god and a goddess, “a divine couple who were intrinsically linked to the annual cycle of winter and summer”, the god predominating in the cold-season festivals and the goddess in the warm-season pair.

The seasonal love story that many readers first meet as something ancient is a modern liturgical pattern, not a preserved pre-Christian myth. That does not make it less meaningful to those who keep it; it makes it datable.

The pattern also carried an exclusion. The World Religions and Spirituality Project, in its profile of the Minoan Brotherhood, describes Gardner’s Wicca as a “fertility religion” organized around male-female polarity, God and Goddess, high priest and high priestess, and records that “Gardner was homophobic and refused initiation to anyone whom he thought was homosexual”, noting that Alex Sanders and Doreen Valiente rejected that exclusion. A framework built on a heterosexual pair puts pressure on those it does not fit, and some people built elsewhere.

Reclaiming Your Inner Pantheon: Embodying Feminine Power

Sometimes it seems I have a badly chaired committee meeting in my head. One inner voice pushes for taking a risk and beginning something new right now, preferably before breakfast. Another would like everyone to stop making demands and to please leave her alone with a book. A third is concerned about energy management and a house in renovation chaos. The inner cynic relentlessly points out that I’m making the same mistakes over and over again, and when will I finally learn? Does that sound familiar?

Rather than asking “which” archetype we are, as especially social media likes to do, this post considers how different moments in life call for different energies that we all carry within us, from Maiden and Lover to Warrior, Queen, Crone and Mystic.

Perhaps some are more familiar than others, but each of them has so much to offer! Through body, movement and imagination, we can begin to recognise which voices have been running the show… which one’s we ignored and… which have been waiting in the wings …

Sleeping Solo in a Stone Circle by Eline Kieft

What twenty years of pilgrimage taught me about ritual, place and the slow cultivation of perception…

Ever since my first shamanic training in the UK and in Sweden in 2005, I felt called to seek out prehistoric ritual landscapes. Over the past two decades I slept in Neolithic burial chambers, welcomed the dawn from Bronze Age stone circles, wandered among standing stones on remote islands, and returned to certain places often enough that they became companions on my journey.

In this post I share some images and insights from my latest overnight solo adventure at the sacred site of Machrie Moors, on the Isle of Arran, Scotland, and how my practice of spontaneous immersion grew into a deep way of listening.

Going to Machrie Moor

Unlike the better-known circles of Avebury or Callanish, Machrie rarely appears in guidebooks outside Scotland, and perhaps because of that, it retains a remarkable intimacy. Sheep wander freely between the stones, the wind rolls in over the hills, and the landscape seems content in itself.

Set between sea and the dramatic outline of Goat Fell (which in the morning light appeared like a reclining goddess, see image below), the Machrie Moor complex consists of six stone circles in open moorland. There are also several other smaller menhirs that seem strategically placed like signposts leading into the site, which you can’t see from very far because it’s in a valley.

From the Archives: Gift-Economy in a Time of Lack by Elisabeth S.

This was originally posted on May 17, 2019

Carol Christ wrote about gift economy on this blog in 2013, and I am taken by her story of the woman who brought raisins or cracked nuts to the group even though she had very little. In beginning to encounter the literature on gift economy myself, I am wondering how it all works, especially wondering, perhaps outside of such a conversation if it doesn’t relate or misses the point, what someone who feels they have nothing to give can give.

When Genevieve Vaughan wrote about gift economy in Ms. Magazine in 1991, she wrote, “where there is enough, we can abundantly nurture others. The problem is that scarcity is usually the case, artificially created in order to maintain control, so that other-orientation becomes difficult and self-depleting.”

I think we start to look for other ways of existing when we experience the brokenness of a current existence. The exchange economy under mindless capitalism does not honor equal, fair exchanges. If we could keep from manipulating and being deceptive about what a product is worth, if we could more generously assess the contribution of workers, then some of us might not be bothered. Of course, for that work which is never compensated by money, mostly women’s work, that is the other issue that might not be solved by more equal exchange, and probably more the point of Vaughn’s.

From the Archives: The Story of Juneteenth by Kelly Brown Douglas

This blog has been posted twice before. June 18,2013 and June 19, 2022. Today is Juneteenth in the USA.

Tomorrow is a special day for me. It is Juneteenth. On June 19, 1865, news finally reached Galveston, Texas that slavery had been abolished. This was of course two and a half years after Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation. While the actual impact of the emancipation for the enslaved remains a source of historical discussion if not debate, the fact of the matter is that the proclamation of emancipation and the reality of freedom for black women and men did not necessarily coincide. To be sure, for a variety of reasons, the Emancipation Proclamation did not have an immediate impact on the daily lives of enslaved women, men and children. While the “official” historical records marks January 1, 1863 as a day of emancipation, the historical record for the descendants of enslaved men and women marks June 19, 1865 as the day of freedom. For, it was on this day that the last slaves were free.

While the celebrations of Juneteenth have waxed and waned over the years, it remains a day in which African Americans reflect upon the “mighty long way” we have come as well as the “mighty long way” we have left to go on the pathway toward freedom. As I celebrate Juneteenth, in the words of a black gospel song, “My soul looks back and wonders how they got over.” And so it is that my theological imagination is stirred, for it is clear that it was by faith that they (the enslaved) got over. And so I ask, what kind of faith was it that allowed them to get over, that is, to survive a life of bondage? This question is even more pressing to me each time that I am reminded that there were those who were born into slavery and died in slavery, and thus, as Toni Morrison once exclaimed, “never drew a free breath.” So, what kind of faith was it that carried these people through life?

Nature and the Body Were Never the Enemy

Reflecting on the contradictions of modern life, this essay explores how both wilderness and female embodiment became culturally suspect within Western thought. Drawing on themes of estrangement, relational ontology and kinship, it considers how practices of attention, presence and nature connection may help us return to a deeper sense of belonging.

Embodiment as Positive Resistance

I nearly cancelled my recent trip to the United States. The political climate felt tense, the global atmosphere uncertain, and travelling across the Atlantic seemed questionable for several reasons.

Friends encouraged me to go anyway, suggesting that meeting people in person would offer a different perspective from the one shaped by media narratives. And of course, it wasn’t headlines I was meeting, but people, in a human reality that persists beneath larger systems. Thankfully, my trust in relational experience outweighed my hesitation, and I returned from my travels with renewed inspiration.

I’m writing this essay because many people I met spoke with an apologetic tone about being American. They expressed disbelief, embarrassment or anger about their conspicuous yellow haired chief. I just want to acknowledge the warmth, generosity, care and humanity I encountered wherever I went.

The entire experience confirmed what I have long sensed in my work with movement, ritual and community: that embodied presence, especially in uncertain times, is such a remedy for heart and soul. What I encountered was meaningful human contact, even in a politically divided country.

Micro Joys by Xochitl Alvizo

“Micro joys helps us deal with macro sadness,” Ana Navarro.

Ana Navarro, a political commentator, spoke those words when trying to explain the significance of the Bad Bunny Half Time show for Latin American people in the U.S. (the show which was also affectionately called “The Benito Bowl,” Benito being Bad Bunny’s first name). It’s a statement that captures the experience I witnessed among my extended Puerto Rican family regarding the meaningfulness of the Bad Bunny performance during the Super Bowl’s Half Time Show. (Mind you, we were only tuned in to catch the Benito Bowl, not the football game).

It would be hard to overstate the significance and meaningfulness of the performance for Boricuas. Every single detail of the show means something and represents important aspects of Puerto Rican life, culture, and history. I encourage you to read a few articles or posts on the show if you are not already familiar in order to help you understand all that was involved and included in the performance.

From the Archives: And the Pies! Ongoing Grateful Thanks for Tradition by Marie Cartier

This post was originally published November 24, 2018.

In November 2017 I wrote about pie baking.

And in November 2015 I also wrote about pie baking.

In November 2016, I was destroyed by the “election” and wrote a post in November of that year “For Strong Women” just to help many of us keep going.

Lessons in Community at the Lily Pond by Carolyn Lee Boyd

On a recent tranquil Sunday afternoon I was wandering around a lily pond in a nearby botanical garden, fully immersed in that liminal time between summer’s outbursts of nature’s abundance and the peaceful contentment of fall. The late goldenrod and delicate white wood asters danced a hued duet in the wind among the turtleheads and cardinal flowers, while hydrangeas shifted from white to the vibrancy of their last red passion. The lilies in the pond poked their heads above the water while frogs lay in repose on the pads. They were joined on nearby logs by a family of turtles, parents on one side and two babies on the other, close enough for security but far enough to enjoy some independence. A long dark brown watersnake was curled up unmoving on a boulder. All seemed to be basking in the sun, napping now and then. Around the pond were wanderers like me and human caretakers, silently tending to wildflowers and trees and occasionally stopping to watch if one of the beyond-human inhabitants plopped into the water for a little late afternoon swim.

Of course, I also knew that the peacefulness of this snapshot moment would not last forever because what do watersnakes eat? Frogs, fish and other beings that live around ponds. And what do frogs and fish eat? Insects, snails, and other beings, and so on up and down the food chain. But even this is part of the wholeness of the pond, as each being fulfills its place in the cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth so that all of us can, in our own time, enjoy these short times of contentment living on the face of our magnificent planet.