Another New Year

From Lazuli of Pagan Heart

I recently came across the article below. I wrote it about 5 years ago when I was all a bit confused, I’d been through some pretty traumatic times, and although I didn’t know it at the time, I was on the verge of a whole new life. I was fighting with myself…do I remain the flighty slightly coo-coo person I had always been?,  or do I do what everyone else I could see was doing? One of the things that scared me most was being a sheeple…you know, someone who followed everyone else…did all the “right” things (marry, have children, buy house, have car…etc.) all that frightened the heck out of me. But I was on the cusp of change; I was on the verge of a whole new life, a new way of doing things…I think, now I re-read the text below, that instinctively I knew something was about to happen – but not quite what.

 I didn’t end up doing all those things that scared me…some of it by choice, some because choice had been taken away from me a long time ago…but finally I became secure…secure in the knowledge that it was absolutely fine to be a bit flighty and coo-coo AND have some of the things in life that seemed the norm (even the scary norm!)

Moving forward, the past year has been an incredible for me – I finally discovered fundamentally who I am spiritually – I’m still learning where that fits in life…and still discovering new and wonderful things. Pagan Heart has been my mainstay throughout 2011. A place to rant and rave, a place to share good and bad times. I have received such great companionship and learning from the people within – and oodles of love. I am blessed!

Five years on, I still don’t own my own house. I don’t have children. But I do have security – the knowledge that it really is all going to be OK – I don’t have to keep running any more…I can run when the fancy takes me, not because of fear!

I have a cramped head – always have had. My head is full of stuff and ideas and things I want to do, write about, make, create.

I’m not a nerd – I can be a bit geeky, but I’m not a plain Jane type. I’ve had my fair share of shaved heads and mohicans and getting drunk on the beach with a bunch of ‘older boys’ when I was young – I’ve run-away, gone travelling, danced with rock stars (well one!). I’ve taken drugs and run naked through fields and all without having to read a book about it first, but still, I have a thirst for knowledge, even though I don’t really know that much.

When I was a lot younger I was sent for a Mensa test, to be told that I was of high intelligence and if I didn’t slow down, by the time I reached adulthood I would burn-out…Guess what happened?!

My yearning for learning wouldn’t go away. When I was 10 I studied the history of London…for a laugh…not because I had to – but because I could, so I did. I never used to sleep a lot as a child, three hours (I am told) was enough for me – it didn’t occur to me that three hours was not the norm, because I’d have my head in a book, or I’d be drawing or painting until mum woke up to give me breakfast. Thankfully the sleeping patterns have changed now, and I’m just as good at sleeping now as I was at reading when I was a kid!

Wanting to learn and be a million different things has a knock-on effect though. Because now, as an adult I never really stick at one thing for long enough to become a master of it – I get distracted by shiny things and colours and books and paper, I like to experience new stuff, be in new places, touch the walls of old buildings, change the routine, eat my dinner for breakfast…and never, ever comply. I’m like a puppy who’s just been let out the house and into the garden for the first time and wants to pee up each and every blade of grass…all of a sudden I’m off on some tangent…and those who are with me at the time are left standing dazed and confused. “What’s she up to now?” That’s all OK for a child to do, you’re expected to have whims when you’re a kid, but when you’re an adult, you get lumbered with responsibility – and responsibility dumps all over flightiness until you’re knee deep in poop without a shovel big enough to dig you out.

If I was more focussed and grounded I might own my own house by now, have my own kids, be sitting on a savings account dreaming of retirement, but I’m not! I’m flighty and curious with no interest in normality or the boring mundane day-to-day life of most of my peers. I want to pee up every blade of grass, and then go back around and pee up them all again! I don’t want to be grounded, I don’t want to focus, I want the harshness of reality to be blurred and distorted so I don’t have to be the thing I fear so much. Normal. I don’t own my own house, I don’t really own anything…but a bunch of books about nothing in particular and a need to be different.

Is it worth it? What happens when there’s no-one left to help dig you out of the poo? I’m not lazy, I work hard. But I get bored so often. Mundane rears its ugly head and I’m off again, shiny colours and blades of grass tempt me away from doing the responsible thing, and I end up knee deep in the brown stuff again until needs turns to musts and I have to do the ‘grown-up’ thing so I can pay the bills.

I’ve had my fair share of hardship. My flightiness has caused me all sorts of pain and heartache, and although I try to blame everyone but me for that, I can’t…I create the chaos, I should learn to deal with it…I’ve been bruised and battered, I’ve also been loved and cherished, I’ve been homeless and broke, but I’ve also been blessed with warmth and comfort…I’ve seen it all, through my flightiness, my life has been far from mundane…but never secure.

The moral of the story, I suppose, is to never fear who you are – you are unique and wonderful, and have the ability to do amazing things. Be secure in who you are, take care of you, and the rest will fall into place. You will have energy to help others, you will be useful to those less fortunate, but you need to nourish yourself before you can do any of that other stuff.

So, although many of us will have viewed Samhain as our new year…I want to mark this evening and tomorrow, because it’s always been the most special time of the season to me.

I hope 2012 is wonderful to you and yours. I wish you an abundance of love and happiness – the security to be exactly who you want to be, and the strength to climb those inevitable mountains that we all have to climb. I wish you food in your belly, warmth in your soul, loving arms wrapped around you and a hand to hold!

!!!Happy New Year!!!

Yule

From Redhead of Pagan-Heart

What do we really know about this magnificent period of the year?

Image from Celtic Magpie - Photobucket

We know that some call it just winter time, others from other religions have their own name, but we know this period as Yule.

Yule is the time of the year when we celebrate Winter Solstice and everything related, we celebrate mostly on 21st , 22nd or 23rd December (depends on the year)

Winter Solstice has been celebrated in cultures the world over for thousands of years. This start of the solar year is a celebration of Light and the rebirth of the Sun. In old Europe, it was known as Yule, from the Norse, Jul, meaning wheel.

Pagans celebrate this time of the year in different ways, having different rites or traditions.  Paganism is seen in lots of forms from Shamanism, Wiccanism, Traditional Witchcraft, Druidry to the Germanic Neopagans and Northern traditions and more. Because of the different ways of pagans there are different ways to see Yule and to celebrate Yule, but there is a common essence and that is: death and rebirth, mostly REBIRTH.

Image from Celtic Magpie - Photobucket

I don’t know about the others, but I know that I, as a Wiccan, celebrate the rebirth of the Great Horned Hunter God, who is viewed as the new-born solstice sun. For Wiccans Yule festivities involve the burning of the Yule log on an open fire to honour the lord Cernunnos or the Horned God; the log is decorated with holly and other symbolic paraphernalia.

Also during the many Wiccan Yule rituals, the Holly King dies and the Oak King is born. This signifies the changes from the dark half of the year to the light half of the year.

I’ve found some interesting ways of celebrating Yule, here are some of them  – (From Celebrating Winter Solstice by Selena Fox):

“Adorn the home with sacred herbs and colours. Decorate your home in Druidic holiday colours red, green, and white. Place holly, ivy, evergreen boughs, and pine cones around your home, especially in areas where socializing takes place. Hang a sprig of mistletoe above a major threshold and leave it there until next Yule as a charm for good luck throughout the year. Have family/household members join together to make or purchase an evergreen wreath. Include holiday herbs in it and then place it on your front door to symbolize the continuity of life and the wheel of the year. If you choose to have a living or a harvested evergreen tree as part of your holiday decorations, call it a Solstice tree and decorate it with Pagan symbols.”

Image from Celtic Magpie - Photobucket

I wait for Yule prepared with a warm heart and may you and your dear ones be blessed by the Light of a new SUN.

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From Fingal of Pagan Heart

A picture to peruse for this posting. Symbolic and thought provoking and open to personal interpretation.
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Finding my Pathway

- by Jehra of Pagan Heart


I never consciously set out to 'change my religion', or become other than what I was raised to be. I was Christened into the High Church of Protestantism at a few months of age and brought up to attend Sunday School, Church services and indeed brought my young family up the same way...but I had a problem and it was getting worse by the day and eventually turned to my Vicar for guidance. But I need to step back in time for a little while and start, at the very beginning.


I grew up seeing spirit. As a tiny child I was taught my prayers and Mother stood by my bed every night as I knelt to say the traditional prayers of children, 'Now I lay me down to sleep' and ‘Our Father'. Mother would kiss me goodnight and leave me and I would immediately climb out of bed and climb the ladder like steps that led to God’s room in heaven to tell him of my day. I never saw this as odd, nor did I question it, and I never told anyone of my nightly trips to hug God’s knees and clamber into his lap to chatter away as little girls can.


As I read the previous statement I can see raised eyebrows and, almost hear the derisory comments; but to a child, who is told that if you are good you will go to God...I asked Mother every night '…have I been good Mummy?' She would say “yes” and of course that meant to me a quick visit to God was available, so I did! Because I believed as a child; literally.


At 8 years of age, a loved and loving Aunt passed to the next realm, she appeared to me as I watched my Mothers distress and said simply she was fine, she didn't need her wheelchair anymore and was upset that Mother was so distressed. I tried to tell my Mother but was hushed and I simply kept it to myself. I was 12 years old before I realised that not everyone could see what I saw and that the reason I felt like the odd one out was precisely because I was genuinely different and that drew me into other thoughts. Yet I did not know then that what I did was outside of the realms of acceptance within my church. Diligently I prayed for help, and for protection because I saw much that was frightening and my teen years where filled with experiences I would not understand for many years.


I married young, just a few months after my 18th birthday, and spent the next 5 years creating my family, settling into a home and all the many calls on my time prevented my involvement in anything other than the most immediate of needs for a young and vibrant family. Then my eldest son at the age of 7 asked me a question. He commented that Jesus's Mum must have been pretty upset when he was killed by Pontius and followed with a query, which was, what Jesus must have felt like when his friends and everyone where so horrible to him and to see his Mum crying.


I wrote my Son a poem that night, it is posted on the Pagan Heart website, it flew from my pen, and I sat reading it drained of everything except awe at the speed of delivery. I didn't feel as if I had written it, more as if I had simply recorded what was told me.


I remained confused and a little awed as I re-read my poem, and in the end, shaken and not a little wary, I rang a Christian helpline. A lovely Nun from the Catholic church listened to my explanation and heard my poem and told me gently that she thought I had been given a special gift. I put the phone down with relief and read my son his poem the next day.


As I began, the first lines his little face reflected the feelings I too had experienced; Hold me, Love me - the words began, and he had an answer that he could accept.


I was still having the same old problem which had haunted me for several years, I had dreams.


They were not normal dreams. They felt 'real' and invariably were violent or destructive and invariably again...they all where predictive; they came true within 3 weeks of my 'dream' and they were getting worse, a lot worse. The ones I dreaded most where the airplane crashes, they terrified me. I had one such dream which was haunting my daytimes and in absolute trust I turned to the Vicar and explained I had awful dreams which were coming true and he directed me to Mrs B**** and her women’s weekly meetings group in her home. I felt nothing but relief. One of the ladies visited me first and gently probed what it was I needed support for and I told her of the poem experience, and the latest airplane disaster which by then had occurred in dreadful details which matched my dream almost exactly. She was sympathetic and I came to the Women’s Bible Meeting with real hope of some answers.


Mrs B**** asked me to tell the group my poem, and before anyone could say anything she asked me about my dream, so I told her it all. The women sat quietly watching my face, it felt uncomfortable to be the centre of such strong focus but I continued.


As I finished Mrs B**** asked me what did I do about these dreams? I said I prayed. I prayed because I didn't know what else to do, I prayed for the souls of those who would die and I prayed for a miracle that the disaster would be averted and as I finished I looked at her and I say truly now, I had hope and I had a need for healing. I was confused by these dreams and had no way of dealing with the aftermath of knowing hundreds of people would die and I couldn't stop it. I felt helpless and I so hoped for answers from these wise women, all of whom where several years if not decades older than myself. Surely they would have answers, they must have experienced this before, else the Vicar wouldn't have sent me here.


This was the wisdom they gifted me:-


“Who are YOU to pray for the dead?”


“Who gave YOU the right to write of Our Lords thoughts?!”


“It’s the DEVIL’S WORK!”


“DEVIL’S DAUGHTER!”


I sat in confusion. Deeply shocked, I was the devil’s daughter? It was the devil’s works? I had done wrong in praying? I stumbled to my feet and said simply "Thank you" and I left.


I wandered aimlessly around the local park. I felt dreadful, I was evil and horrible and was haunted by these dreams because I was somehow the devil’s own spawn. Terribly upset, as a committed Christian I felt I should be exorcised or something. I wandered out of the rain into the little local library in the old part of the park and there was my saviour. A woman who was friends with my sister (also a Librarians Assistant) saw me and recognised a person in shock.


She approached me and asked me what was wrong and I told her what had just happened. She looked at me strangely, she put her arm around me and walked me to a corner of the library I had never been to in my entire life, because it was under the heading ‘OCCULT.’


She swept a hand across rows of books, Yin and Yang, Buddha, Eastern and Western philosophies I had never heard of and books on dreams...lots of books on dreams. She said very simply “I think you should read some of these” and patted my arm and walked away.


The Gods Bless her, because I read alright! I read and continued to read, I found Spiritualist Churches, meetings, groups and in those places I was not an oddity, I was not the Devils Daughter, I read philosophy and I studied , I still do.


I never found one religion I could claim as my own, my truth, my perfect place. I did not wish to walk away from the Christ’s Light, nor did I wish to avert my heart and soul from the Goddess for in my studies I had read of so many faces of one light and believed, and still do, that when all of the world’s religions get together and piece together the jigsaw of our beliefs, and allow them to meld to one truth...then and only then, will we have the real truth of our deity, our Universal Truth.


So I became Shamanic, and being Shaman Ka is wonderful. I study herb lore, earth lore, the weather and animal behaviour and people, I study people a lot. More importantly as Shaman-Ka I am free of old restraints, I do not judge, nor do I condemn a religion, any religion because each has within it a kernel of truth. The trappings of manmade ‘do and don't’, the manmade restrictions of dress codes and demands, I ignore. What I seek is that religions core truth and invariably it begins with loving your fellow mankind.


I am comfortable as Shaman. I can, and do, attend any church, any synagogue, any temple, any shrine or circle, mountain top, place of beauty...anywhere at all in total and absolute belief that my Deity, my one true light is there, in me, around me but especially strong in these sacred places.


What does my Universal Light care that we use a thousand names, a thousand images to perceive and to personify the Universal Lights presence? It matters not! What matters is that I come with love, with faith and with total and complete acceptance.


It has been a long time since I walked the early hills of my childhood challenges. Many years now since I clambered the terrain of my youthful hopes and the many Eigers and Kilimanjaro’s of my young womanhood. No one has all of the answers, no one has all of the truth. But here, now, in this my later years, where challenges are more of the ant hill and steep stairs variety ...I know my pathway...


It is yours, and yours, and yours sir!..and yours madam, and yours little one...for I can and have, will always, be able to approach my truth with my own truth. I believe there is one Light, one Love and it is so powerful, so strong, so overwhelmingly perfect that when I approach with my thanks for a day accomplished, when I approach with a prayer for healing for a friend, or myself, when simply I clamber up a ladder of dreamscape to hug a pair of knees so far above my head to say "Hello God, I’ve been a good girl", even now...I am heard.


Walk in your own truth, it is a path of many steps, many obstacles will fall before you, many will be overcome by you. Make Faith your aid and Faith your trust.


I am me, and my Gods love me for who I am.


May light ever find you in your darkest hours.


Jehra

"She"

By Lazuli of Pagan Heart

I lived that pain, of losing again, when it stole my breath and it started to rain

and the wind kissed my face, in that beautiful place - where did you go?

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Then She touched my soul, made me whole...and nothing else mattered, except the story She told

by that glistening stream, She took me to see - taking me places I had never been.

She said "Open your eyes, and see the skies, blue azure, no need to hide..."

...and later we sat, watching the moon; healing the wounds; feeling all of nature's moods.

 Then She gave me her hand, as I tried to stand, "...Don't know if I can." - "You can!" she sang

She whispered "You are never alone...when you need a hand to hold, I'll be here, you'll never be cold."

Then with the soft dawn mist, She blew me a kiss, and faded gently, into the distance

And so that pain, that stole my breath, while it started to rain...

...taught me how to live again.

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The Freedom of Paganism

Written by DarkMere of Pagan Heart

Recently on the forum a question was raised to try and sum up in one word what paganism meant to you. A very tall order, especially for someone like me who often follows the rule of ‘why use one word when a thousand will do’. One of our members, the controller of this blog in fact, posted the word ‘Freedom’. Freedom might have been something that I would have chosen myself, because the freedom of Paganism is one of the most important reasons why I myself am Pagan.

So what kind of freedom do we associate with Paganism? Paganism gives you freedom of thought, freedom of direction and freedom of choice. If you are for example a Christian, then you have to believe that Jesus was the son of God, the way the truth and the light. There is no other direction to choose, if you cannot embrace that then you are not a Christian. As a pagan I don’t have to adhere to anything. I can believe that there is a God and Goddess, or not. I can choose what feels right to my own common sense and reasoning. I can even believe that Jesus was the son of God if I want, which in fact I do, but then I believe that we are all sons and daughters of God.

Someone somewhere will point out that even pagans have to embrace certain concepts, and that we do not have total freedom. This of course is true. We believe in the concept of, ‘An it harm none, do what thou wilt’ there are a few variants of this, but this will do as they all mean the same, in modern words they mean ‘Do what you will, so long as it harms none’. If we are to follow this rede then its clear that we do not have total freedom. I do not have the freedom to harm you for no reason, or to steal from you, but you see when we talk about freedom we are talking about our right to follow a religion of our choosing, the right of free thinking. If I was to harm you that would take away your right not to be harmed. So yes we are not totally free but I am sure you will understand the concept of freedom as viewed from a pagans perspective.

If people were totally honest, which sadly is not always the case, then its true to say that for most people following many religions struggle with some parts of it. Again using Christianity as an example, and I choose Christianity again simply because I then speak from personal experience. Many Christians simply do not accept the concept that people who do not follow Jesus will burn in a hell, so they call themselves Christian but pick and choose what they want to embrace, but that is not being Christen. Being Christian is to except that no one has the right to be saved except by the grace of God, and so have to conform to this concept. You have to accept that your own reasoning and logic mean nothing and that you have to follow what you are taught without question. People who call themselves Christian but pick and choose what they want to believe are fine by me, each to their own, but they are then not really Christian, they are more like a Pagan. Some people will want to shoot me for saying that! :)

The freedom of Paganism is the opposite, you are expected to question, you are expected to give your heart, soul and even your logic the right to speak. You are also expected to allow everyone else to be free too, free to follow their own religion and the right to their own concept.

The above more or less sums up Freedom and Paganism. One of our other members posted ‘Balance’ to the question. Maybe I will write something on that in the future because ‘Balance’ for me is a massive part of Paganism.
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A question!

Imagine, you are given an opportunity to talk about your beliefs. Not only in a forum, or amongst friends, or with like-minded people, but to introduce paganism to a wider community -  a kind of Smörgåsbord of pagan beliefs together in one place. A mural to be filled with images and words, ritual, poems and prayers. This imaginary wall's purpose is not to preach, but to give an essence of practise, belief and lifestyle - a visual idea, an introduction of sorts, of what being a pagan might mean, to you, with all its many facets.
What, as a pagan, would you place on that wall?

Paganism covers such vast ground - so this is a very personal question, and your ideas about what might be included on that wall, could very well be different to what my ideas might be - and this is why I ask!

If you could place one thing on that wall, that, to you, says something about your pagan beliefs/religion - what would that one thing be? (it really is hard to think of just one thing isn't it! But the challenge has been made!!)

Remember, it could be an image, a word, a phrase, a ritual, a piece of music, a chant...anything! (and if you really have to stretch to more than one thing only, then, OK, go on then...let's not be dogged with rules!)

Your ideas and opinions, as always, are very welcome on the Pagan Heart Forum, all you need to do is click here.**

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**If you are not already a member of the Pagan Heart Forum, there are many interesting threads waiting to be explored in the non-member's sections of the Pagan Heart community.

My Law

From Fingal of Pagan Heart

Maori Poem 'My Law' Attributed to Tieme Ranapiri

The sun may be clouded, yet ever the sun
Will sweep on its course till the Cycle
is run. And when into chaos the system is hurled
Again shall the Builder reshape a new world.

Your path may be clouded, uncertain your goal:
Move on for your orbit is fixed to your soul.
And though it may lead into darkness of night
The torch of the Builder shall give it new light.

You were. You will be! Know this while you are:
Your spirit has travelled both long and afar.
It came from the Source, to the Source it returns
The Spark which was lighted eternally burns.

It slept in a jewel. It leapt in a wave.
It roamed in the forest. It rose from the grave.
It took on strange garbs for long aeons of years
And now in the soul of yourself It appears.

From body to body your spirit speeds on
It seeks a new form when the old one has gone
And the form that it finds is the fabric you wrought
On the loom of the Mind from the fibre of Thought.

As dew is drawn upwards, in rain to descend
Your thoughts drift away and in Destiny blend.
You cannot escape them, for petty or great,
Or evil or noble, they fashion your Fate.

Somewhere on some planet, sometime and somehow
Your life will reflect your thoughts of your Now.
My Law is unerring, no blood can atone
The structure you built you will live in alone.

From cycle to cycle, through time and through space
Your lives with your longings will ever keep pace
And all that you ask for, and all you desire
Must come at your bidding, as flame out of fire.

Once list’ to that Voice and all tumult is done
Your life is the Life of the Infinite One.
In the hurrying race you are conscious of pause
With love for the purpose, and love for the Cause.

You are your own Devil, you are your own God
You fashioned the paths your footsteps have trod.
And no one can save you from Error or Sin
Until you have hark’d to the Spirit within.

Question: Do you believe in God?..

Post by Jehra - Pagan Heart


...I don't ask the question lightly and I am not asking if you believe what 'mankind' has written about God. I have come to accept that many people will question a holy book, a series of commandments and their meanings...but that is not my question. Simply do YOU believe in God.

When you see someone triumph against all the known odds, when you look at the world for a moment of time and sense its splendour, its beauty. When you lay in bed looking out of a window at a starlit sky. Do you sense the divine?

Do you feel a special connection with a strength of purpose other than your own?

Can you truly look around you and feel this is all the work of man and not believe in the divine?

Have you held a hope so dear in your heart, so special and had it answered against all expectation?

Have you experienced a miracle of your very own?

Have you ever watched a child overcome great odds? Watched in awe a human being with disabilities triumph over them to achieve their own goals and cried for joy for them, with them. Recognising the strength of the human spirit and wondering on what energy it has been drawn from?

Sharing the joys of life, mourning the hurts and the travesties of justice. Singing out loud because your self is filled with happiness. Expressing your gratitude to an unseen being you can feel is around you even though you have never touched it?

In your own world, has there been a single moment when you felt Divine strength, inspiration, love?

Just one fleeting second is all it takes to prove to you...you are not alone? Not constant, not eternal, just a single second that simply cannot be explained by normal means?

Any of the above, and no doubt other aspects, will spring to mind for many of us; but if only one single part of the above is true for you, then you have believed in the divine.

Being true to your faith, true to your self is a matter of the self and not the jurisdiction of books and words, myths and legends. Your connection with the divine is your own personal link, your hot-line to God by whatever name, by whatever aspect it is your own special link.

No one else will have that connection in exactly the same way, it is your unique 'fingerprint' by which the divine may recognise you. All the hurts and hopes, the fears and failures that caused you to falter, and all the challenges and fights, the reassessments and thoughts that stabilised you and all the moments you had a moment of 'Wow!' and realised that for you...the purpose and will, the design and the signature were created by a something so powerful, so spiritual, so strong as to be recognised as God, in all names and in all glories; God as YOU know God.

Let no words, let no actions and let no other stand between YOU and YOUR God because that is the single most precious gift you have to offer the Divine and in return the Divine offers you...

...recognition

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The forest, Pan, and the Goddess

By Andreea Nicolae

"The Forest and Pan"



"Ode to the Goddess"  

Sour cream between my lips
Kiss the down, and breathe the mist
You will find the final end
Chilli hot and apple's red
Bitter-sweet between my lips
Kiss the land, and breathe the heat
Salt and flower of the moon
Listen to my heart beats
Listen to the high...sound of lullaby
Kiss my hands and pray
My Goddess obey...

by Andreea Nicolae

'The Goddess'

The Leaf and the Wind

Posted by Lazuli of Pagan Heart

I just loved this story, one for kids of all ages (even grown-up ones!) although, I shudder a little at the tree being mean, because, well...trees aren't mean!

The Leaf and the Wind

From the book "Tell Me Another Story," by Lisa Suhay

Leaf looked out across the broad, dawn-pink sky and down over the beautiful spring garden. The dewy breeze grazed it and left it shimmering, fluttering.

As it moved, Leaf saw all the corners of the garden with its flowers, bushes, trees and animals. Leaf stretched to catch every sight and sound. It was a new leaf at the top of a very old tree.

Leaf adored all the elements - wind, sun and rain. But it was in love with the wind.
Wind gave it the freedom of motion. Without the breeze it would never have seen the world below or from side to side. Wind rocked Leaf to sleep and shook it awake. Wind made Leaf dance.

Wind whistled haunting tunes through the branches, it whispered and sometimes it even sang.

On many days, Wind told Leaf of the places it had been. "All across the Rivers and down to the sea have I been," whispered Wind. On that day, Leaf could even smell the scent of the water and salty places of which Wind spoke.

"High up the mountain to the very door of Heaven today," Wind told, as the fresh clean smells settled down upon Leaf. "I have seen where the Blue-sky ends and birds cease to wing. I have heard the voice of Life itself and it is so beautiful."

Leaf shuddered with the thought of having Life speak to it as it did to Wind. "When will life speak to me?" Leaf asked Wind.

The breeze warmed as it blew over Leaf and Wind said softly, "You can Hear Life's voice in me."

Whenever it blew past, be it a breeze or gale, the little green leaf waved a joyful greeting to Wind - like the hand of a happy child to a loved one.

"I will love you for all time," Leaf whispered to the moving air around it. "I could not be happier."

Hearing this promise Tree itself shook and emitted a deep chuckle. "I am glad you are happy now," the tree said. "Enjoy your youth and beauty while you can, for soon enough you will be withered and brown, dry as dust and blown away with by the same breeze that stirs your heart today."

Leaf stiffened at these words. The other leaves said nothing. One or two fell like tears before their time, so stricken were they by the sadness.

"That is not so!" Leaf cried.

Tree shook again and said, "Oh but it is true. I have seen many, many leaves from many trees fall and crumble. Your time will come to curse the wind and the way of things. Wind is old and you are young. Ask Wind sometime."

The tree said no more. Leaf tried not to think about what Tree had said. Of course it had heard the stories of how leaves grow old and die, but still it would never be hateful.
That very day, Leaf made a decision. It shouted to the world, "I will Never hate Wind. I will not give in to fear or unhappiness."

Still, the next time Wind came to call, Leaf could not help but ask. "When I become old, dry and brittle will you destroy me as Tree says," Leaf asked.

Wind was silent for a long moment. "I will not destroy you my dear one," Wind said. "All Earthly things grow old and dry. That is not my doing."

Leaf was shaking and Wind could see the fear beginning to overtake Leaf. Wind added, "Keep your promise not to give in to hate and sorrow and when the time comes for you to fall, I will be there to catch you. It will be a beginning and not and end for you."

Again Leaf felt strong. "Tell me of your travels," Leaf said. Wind spoke well into the night.
Time passed. Leaf grew and changed. At first it became very big and strong. Then, as the air grew chill, Leaf began to take on the most magnificent colors. First a yellow cast and then little patches of red and gold began to creep across it.

"You are most beautiful today," whispered Wind. "I do not think that of all the leaves in the world there is one to match you."

Leaf shook a bit, knowing full well that many of the others had also begun to change and take on different hues. Still, the words brought joy.

"It is the beginning of the end for you and all your kind," Tree said. "Soon now, oh so soon, you will be nothing but a speck in the dirt."

All the other leaves began to droop and some even tumbled from their homes early as the weight of that unhappy thought dragged them down to Earth.

Not Leaf. "Words, words, words," Leaf laughed. "You cannot harm me with words. I choose to be happy with my fate. Others choose to be sad. The only one who will be sad when I am gone is you old tree for then who will you talk to?"

Tree shook with frustration and anger. "You will see," Tree bellowed. "You will be dirt!"
As days passed Leaf began to feel thin and tired. The bright colors that covered Leaf darkened to brown and Leaf knew its time grew short. Still it would not be sad because each day now Wind told Leaf of the wonderful adventures that were to come.

Just seeing Leaf cling to happiness while all those around it fell made Tree angry. One day it could stand it no more and when Wind came to call, Tree shook for all it was worth and Leaf snapped away from its branch and began to fall.

Tree watched and waited for Leaf to scream and cry, to realize what horror had just befallen it. Instead Tree heard the sound of laughter.

One moment Leaf was held fast to Tree and the next it was falling, flipping end over end. "I am flying!" Leaf laughed in pure joy.

"You are falling! Plunging," shouted Tree.

"I am soaring like a little bird," Leaf sang out. "See how I go!"

Leaf felt something lift it up. It was Wind come to keep its promise. "I cannot take you far right now, just to rest on the ground. No matter what happens, do not be afraid. I will return for you."

Wind carried Leaf ever so gently to the ground and allowed it to rest there. Leaf could feel the rumble of the roots from Tree as it laughed and said," You see? Now you are ready to become like all the others. It is all just as I said. Just give up now."

Leaf was not stirred to sadness by Tree's words. It did not answer, but lay quietly looking up at the world. It all looked so different now. After a time, Leaf nodded off to sleep and a long time passed before it woke.

Instead of feeling old, stiff and papery, Leaf felt suddenly free to move about. It could hear wind singing softly through the trees and felt itself being lifted and spun higher and higher.
"Did I not promise all would be well," crooned Wind. "You have become the dust of the Earth, so light and so fine that I can carry you anywhere with me."

And so Wind did carry the dust of Leaf and scattered it over fields, onto the backs of birds that flew to mountains and into streams that led to oceans. Finally Wind seeded the clouds with the last few tiny grains that were once Leaf and Leaf came back to Earth with rains and snows.

Everywhere it fell the remains of Leaf brought a grain of pure joy, a drop Of hope and touch of love for wind and life.

One day in springtime Wind rustled past Tree and heard Tree telling all the young leaves about the Leaf that had loved the Wind and perished in the dirt.

Wind came back through Tree singing a breezy tune, "Listen my children, but not to those who tell you that your fate is in the dirt. Listen to me instead. I will tell the tale of how you will become Heaven's Dust. Believe and you will never dread."

If ever you wonder which leaves listen to Wind and not Tree, look up on a stormy day and see, which ones wave, a joyous greeting and which fall down in sorrow.

Ritual

By Jehra from Pagan Heart

Some of the rituals I have attended have been great-orchestrated moments, where a television crew or a film camera would have recorded something worthy of an audience.

Mountains wreathed in mist, a glowing moon; many, many people. A multitude of bass, tenor and mezzo tones, coupled with the high sopranos of trained voices streaming in the wind and across valleys to bounce against mountain walls and back to the crowning circle. A never ending circle of sounds that bring a lump to the throat, tears to the eyes and a sense of ‘being there’.

Some rites have been simple and honest tokens of worship from a few stalwart souls on a cold night in the middle of winter. Faith overcoming chill winds and frosted toes, to sit on damp stones with a heart full of peace and eyes filled with crisp frosted trees, and crystal white clouds scurrying across a wind filled sky. Snuggled into a hurriedly sanctified winter coat and a shawl dragged over freezing ears and eyes smarting with the wind.

Some rites have been in a peaceful valley, beneath a tree on a lazy hot afternoon. With one eye on the leaf strewn path in the hopes no one would disturb me. A lazy humming bee gently zizzing his message across the glade as water gurgled by my feet. Alone and at peace as my deity sparkled in my mind in wonder of the joyful day.

Some rites have been in the chill of the night, wet and miserable weather cascading onto my suffering head, tears streaming from my eyes as I say goodbye in this life to a loved one, alone and miserable and all too human. Screaming "Why?" at an empty sky with no moon or stars to comfort me, just clouds and more clouds and I have wept.

My only comfort my deity watching, loving, caring that I hurt because I am human.

All the rites I have attended, been part of, have filled me with wonder and love. I have sat in many temples and churches, for many religions; not once have I failed to feel the presence of my deity.

Yet I have also been where the truth was not sought. Where self-grandeur and a ‘starring role’ were more important to the human beings attending. I have felt the emptiness of the rite, as the deity is not contacted, just empty minded people with empty minded devotions that are a lie and a cheat to themselves.

Some of us will be able to share, some may choose to be private and alone, and some have yet to experience part or maybe even all of the above situations.

In sharing this series of memories, I hope it will bring others here to share or to comment and for those yet to take part in a structured ritual or to be part of a group; an insight to some of what can be experienced along our journey.

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Faith, Freedom, To Thine Own Self Be True

By DarkMere of Pagan Heart

I was once a Christian. From as young as I can remember I held on to my faith, it was rock solid, at one time unshakeable. It held firm no matter what environment I was placed into, no matter how out numbered I was. I was never one to try and force my opinions onto others, could not understand people trying to force their opinions upon me. I was firm in what I believed, but never thought my truth was the one and only truth, or the only correct one, but it was mine.

 

In truth most of my outlooks still hold true for me today, as they did when I was a Christian, only now I look at things from a Pagan point of view. I still respect everyone else’s outlooks. Still accept that I understand so little, but I also understand that everyone else understands so little too, and that statement goes for everyone; the Pope, the head of any church you wish to mention. They, like me must be true to themselves. How I wish they could all accept differing faiths. Yes there has to be a certain limit to what we can all tolerate as acceptable, any belief system that allows or wishes harm onto anyone I have no time for. And if it harm none, then so be it.

When I was a Christian, I bent the faith all out of shape to fit my changing views, then I came to understand that Paganism fitted my views like a glove, no bending required; but it was still hard to walk away from my Christian faith.

 

I went through many of the torments that committed Christians go through when they abandon their faith; you know this kind of logic..."Am I losing my soul?", "Will I be forever condemned?"...But, I realised, if I no longer believe in Father, Son and Holy Ghost then none of those fears are real anyway, so there is nothing to fear.

 

But, what if I am wrong?

 

Will my soul burn?

 

Hmm...maybe I should cling onto my faith no matter what? But then I lie to myself. So what? Lie...it's better than burning! But if God sees everything, he knows I am lying...so do I burn anyway? There can only be one course of action:

 

TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE!

 

I am not a Christian. Now I am content to say that, I am not afraid to say that. I am Pagan, in love with nature and the world around me, in love with my creator, peaceful and content.

So there we have my short story on faith, freedom and being true to oneself. Let me leave you with this thought:

 

I am not afraid of you or your faith, nor would I ever want to try and change you.

 

Real freedom is not afraid to let others be free too

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Welcome...

...to the Pagan Heart Blog! Please make yourself comfy, have a cuppa, sit back and relax!


This blog is an extension of the Pagan Heart website and the Pagan Heart Forum. If you are pagan, have an interest in paganism, or just curious to learn more - why not take a look at our site, which is full of information, or, if you fancy taking a peek at what the latest topic of discussion is, why not pop in to the forum...we're a friendly bunch, and welcome new members, new thoughts and new ideas.


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