Through Pagan Eyes

I remember being 9 years old and roaming the streets of Portugal in a little village outside of Lisbon. There was a street with gypsies selling old trinkets. It was aptly called Thieves Market. There were buttons and medals from various military establishments. There were clothes and purses, rugs and suitcases. You name it, they probably had it. And this is when I fell in love with gypsies. The mysterious pasts, the magical appeal, the vast spread of them throughout the continent. I wanted to hang out with them. I wanted to be them. I longed to be a part of them.

Years later, back in the States, Mother gives me a book to read. Its a Raymond Buckland book. It was all about his gypsy past and ancestors. I was in love. I wanted to read everything about him. I wanted to own all his books. And its also when my religious experience made more sense.

I had never felt like I belonged at church. I felt out of place. I enjoyed the games, the hanging out and having fun parts. We did a lot of activities. But I never was into the sitting through the sermons (I use to draw on the collection envelopes or fall asleep). Mother never went. She said my going to church was her time to herself. I never questioned it. Not really. I grew up Methodist, as did Mother. As was her mother. But I never felt comfortable. Mother revealed that throughout college she belonged to the Unitarian church. But I thought it was a weird group so I never attended that church. Perhaps I should have. I would have discovered paganism a lot sooner.

I never knew what I felt. I didn't understand my spiritual thoughts and feelings. I just knew I wasn't like my friends who were either Catholic, Methodists or Born Again Christians. I didn't feel the Spirit of God in me the way they had. Sometimes I would find myself moved when the choir sung. Sometimes I would even be moved to tears. And sometimes I felt sick to my stomach. But I always felt weird, like I was forcing myself to believe in what the others believed in.

Years pass. Now I'm living in Indiana. I'm a nurse at a convalescent center. There are people there of all ages. My age up to their 80's/90's. Some are bitter and angry. Some are sad and alone. All know they are there until they die because they have no one to take care of them at home. Its my first true encounter with spirits. I have been told of hauntings in the past (when I was 16/17, I was told by my roommate that my room was haunted). But one night a man passed away. He was not a nice man. He was cantankerous. He was mean-spirited. He was impolite. He was not my patient directly, but he was on my floor so I saw him nightly (I worked graveyard shift, aptly named). One night, one of the CNA's was going around giving everyone a clean pitcher of water. She had given him a cup of water per his request then left his room. Not five minutes later one of the nurses when in to check on him & the man was dead. All the rooms were heated. His room was ice cold. It was a bitter, uncomfortable chill. The Catholics and devout Christians kept commenting about the evilness in the room, as the chill was not normal. Which it wasn't. I was one of just a small handful who agreed to prep the body for the coroner's office to pick up. I agreed with them but never shared my thoughts. He did not pass on to a good place. But even then I didn't believe in hell. I have never believed in hell.

I began reading the Satan's Bible that year. I was a collector of serial killer trading cards. I read everything about them. I was meddling in the dark arts, as some might say. I didn't realize it then that I was into Paganism, but I was not in a happy place, spiritually. I did animal sacrifices at Mother's farm (45 minutes away from where I lived). Mother stayed out of the storage room which I did my sacrifices in. I also kept various herbs, nails, dirt and other trinkets for my rituals. Mother & Grams were frightened of the books I read. But no one forced me to church with them ever again. Outwardly, I was kind to elders, played nice with children and polite to the rest of the world. Inwardly, I hated mankind. I thought no one understood me. This was also the year I bought my first athame (learned the word years later). It called out to me. I was living across the street from an Army surplus store. I had bought just a handful of things from that place (a patch to cover the hole in my leather jacket, for example). But this called to me. I never used it as a knife. It was part of my ceremony. I was also obsessed with masturbation that year. Not with my hand, either. But with objects around the house. I was having a form of "sex magic". I have not been like that since that year. I think I was still finding myself.

Seven years pass. I'm in a relationship with a woman. I have a child of my own as she has a child of her own. We all moved from CA to KS. I start working at a call center. I have never done this sort of work before. Slowly, I hear rumors about a strange woman that claims to be a witch. She does tarot and dresses funny. Her name is Sage. I see her one day in the break room with a spread in front of her. I smile and say hi. We talk a little every day. Soon I befriend her. She introduces me to her new boyfriend, Will. I visit them at their trailer home. They are conducting classes. I learn things there for which I felt I already knew. They say that they are pagans, more specifically Wiccans. I research this online at home. I am baffled.

One of Becky's friends from KS would read cards, use the Ouija board, conduct past life meditations, call corners and visit graveyards. She claimed she and her mother were witches. I always doubted her mother was one, and at time, I had doubts of this friend being one too. However I enjoyed visiting her. What she did was fun. We would visit her for hours. Stay up all night, drink coffee and speak to spirits through the board or take all night trips to cemeteries and walk around the gravestones. We would all research the histories of these people. I would hear stories from both ladies about years past. Adventures involving a number of people running amuck all over town. Demons and evil beings chasing them and haunting them and their children. So outlandish I found it all hard to believe.

I was at this call center for nearly 6 years. I have met so many pagans while I was there. But none of them took me seriously as to being pagan. At times neither did my own woman, as she said I wasn't practicing. I pray with pagan prayers. I "think" my spells. I do candle magic. I meditate and I envision. Some things, those which I feel from the pit of my stomach, come out well. Sometimes so well they scare me. But I have a hard time doing spells for others. I do my best but sometimes they don't work or they take time... a week or a month. Its hard when your other half wants you to conduct a spell and it doesn't work. Sometimes, as I truly believe, the fates have other things in mind for our futures.

Years ago, 2002, I filed with Universal Life Church to prove to others that you don't have to go to seminary school to become a clergy. Anyone who has a computer can do this. I recently decided to refile under my new, married name. In KS, to be a legal marriage, the pagan cleric must also file with the courthouse to make any marriage they officiate a legal and binding marriage. I have the paperwork to do this. I have even a notarized paper stating I'm in good standing. But at times, I would rather do a funeral than conduct a marriage. Unlike others, I do not offer out my services. I think I would, should someone need me to sit by their side at the hospital. I could do this. But I am not the sociable cleric type. I more prefer the research side of things. I like to read and write about the various pagan communities in the world.

I am not a fluffy-bunny pagan. I do not love everyone and say I'm a pagan for the sake of tree huggin', free-love. Nor am I a Wiccan. I do not do the Maypole dance (though I have as a child). I do not flaunt my body in front of others out in public (though I did in my late teens). I do not say Merry Meet nor do I say So Mote it Be. So, no... I am not a Wiccan. I am Pagan. Aptly, I will even call myself a freelance pagan, as it's a great description of what I am. I am a spiritual being. I take from various religions. I have my own beliefs and practices. I do question every belief and seek to find answers to those questions. I enjoy the pursuit of enlightenment.

Years ago I met a pagan online whom over the years has changed his own beliefs as well. I have watched him go from a strong Wiccan believer to a Taos believer. I have experienced and taken the road less traveled with him as he discovered himself. For a few years we even lost touch as our believes were different and he was having issues with this. But he has come out the other side enlightened and inspiring.

At that time I also met another gentleman online. Also interesting. But this pagan practiced Sex Magic. It was through him what I found out this really was all about. I had read about it but had yet to meet anyone like this. He converted his girlfriend. They enjoyed practicing and meditating together. He was a joy to talk with and educational to learn from.

I have met many pagans since moving to KS. I began to feel I have been sheltered from this vastly diverse and wonderfully open group of people. Yes, some are closed minded and superficial. Some feel they are better than others. Some practice and others do not. Some practice they ways of the Egyptians, while others are more into the Celtic or Nordic ways. But each are fascinating.

When I first came to learn of pagans in KS, someone once told me, there are as many pagans as their are beliefs. Each one with their own variation. I strongly believe this to be true. While Wiccans have strong beliefs and rules, they vary some from one person to another. As do Satanics, Atheists, and other non-Christians.

But being a pagan is not just simply being pagan. Its a belief for which is not Christian. A Buddhist is a pagan. A Native American (true to his heritage) is a pagan. And so forth. But in the old text of the word, a pagan is a country folk who was not part of the town center.

My most enjoyable fun-fact filling entertainment is the research of the many Christian findings which started out in pagan settings. How Christians came to the usage of December 25 as the day the world celebrates Jesus' birth, as he was not born at this time. Jews believe he was born in September. Others believe he was born in the Spring or Summer. But all agree he was not born in December. Also, the Christmas tree, the candy cane and other such norms of Christmas have pagan beginnings and were adapted to Christianity so that the conversion of pagans (originally meaning country people) to the church would be a simple and easy one. The Holy Trinity taken from the Triple Goddess. The Devil taken from the Horned God. And so on...

So I leave you with this thought:

Over the course of my adulthood, I have learned, grown and evolved spiritually. I practice meditations, I've learned that prayer is not just a Christian but an every religion experience. So before you go to bed tonight, be thankful for what you have and don't dwell on what you don't have. Love well and you shall be loved back. Live well and life will be so much more grand. Laugh often and you put a smile on a child's face. And remember to read your daily Oms, or whatever meditative readings you enjoy, as this will bring much spiritual enlightenment and bring calm waters to the stresses in your life. Yes, I borrowed the old phrase, Live, Love, Laugh. But it works well in all facets of life.

And remember, even when you're feeling blue, to someone, you matter. Give lots of hugs, tell those who matter you love them and don't wait until a eulogy to tell others how they matter to you as well.