Witches, Mná Feasa, and Fairy Doctors, oh my!

A peer reviewed version of this article can be found in the 2014 Lughnasa/Samhain issue of Air n-Aithesc here

Waterhouse, The Mystic Wood, 1917

   In modern American terms we tend to call anyone who works with low magic or folk magic a witch, however from an Irish perspective such people actually fell into roughly three groups: witches called caillí (singular cailleach) in Irish, fairy doctors, and mná feasa (singular ban feasa). It is important to note up front that all three of these terms can be and sometimes are used interchangeably, and a single person, such as Biddy Early may be given all three labels by different people. To give an example, ban feasa means wise woman, but so does cailleach feasa, and both might be called a fairy doctor or a witch in English, depending on context and what they are doing. It's also important to understand that the Irish view of witches is not the same as the more commonly held traditional one; Irish witches were feared because they might steal milk from the family cows or ill-wish people, but they did not have the deeply sinister reputation found elsewhere.
    The final chapter of Kevin Danaher's book Irish Customs and Beliefs begins with an anecdote from the author's youth. He tells of an experience he had upon meeting an old woman named Nellie in Clare, who, he discovers later, is known through the area for her herbal cures and propensity to curse anyone who offended her. He ends the passage by saying:
"On the way home that day I couldn't help thinking that the old lady was very like the witch in the story books; the black cat in the hearth and the heather besom behind the door were just what a witch should have, and when I heard of her cures and curses my suspicion grew. But I soon found out that the classic figure of the witch cleaving the night air on a broomstick with her cat perched on the pillion was not recognized in local tradition. Old Nellie might be a bean feasa, skilled in cures and in divination, or even an old cailleach who stole the cows milk disguised as a hare, but not a witch." (Danaher, 1964, pages 121-122).
    This passage demonstrates a key difference between the Irish view of witches and the commonly understood one, which is based on continental views. While stories from continental and even British folklore depict witches flying through the air, gathering at meetings with the Devil and using their powers to curse and torment their neighbors by withering crops, causing illness, and killing, the figure of the Irish witch is very different. Although still seen as negative and working against the community the Irish witch in folklore is often less severe and less destructive. Most commonly Irish witches are described stealing milk while in the form of a hare or otherwise working magic on the cattle (O hOgain, 1995). These Irish witches may be referred to as “butter witches” to differentiate them from the more sinister continental ones (O Crualaoich, 2003). The more sinister view of witches seems to have been imported from Europe at a later time and never took the strong hold on the country that it did elsewhere, notably in Scotland (Danaher, 1964). Instead of the idea of truly evil witches we see stories of the cailleach, usually an old woman, intent on stealing milk from the cows and disrupting a family's luck.
    Ireland had very few witch trials over the centuries and these were usually within settlements of those of non-Irish descent (Danaher, 1964). The last witch trial on record in Ireland occurred in Carrickfergus in 1711 and resulted in a conviction and a sentence of the pillory and a year in prison (Danaher, 1964). This seems to reflect the different attitude with which the Irish approached the subject, compared to the far more rabid witch-hunting that went on in Europe. Perhaps because the beliefs about witches were not as severe or perhaps because the belief in the supernatural and use of magic in folklore was so strong even after Christianization, the Irish witch never created the hysteria in Ireland that was the hallmark of Europe during this period. 

   What is particularly worth noting though is the connection between Irish and Scottish witches and fairies, something that is shared with bean feasa and fairy doctors. While the latter two use the knowledge they gain from the Other Crowd to heal or cure magical afflictions, the witch uses her fairy-given knowledge to harm. The witch knows how to use elfshot, and does so in ways that - according to the Scottish witch trial records anyway, which we must look to given the scarcity of Irish witch trials - seem to have been an attempt to use supernatural power where social power was lacking. Often in these trial records we see witches confessing to making deals with or consorting with fairies, going to fairies for knowledge, and going to them to obtain elfshot (Hall, 2005). In the Irish we see witches, like fairies, taking the form of hares in order to steal milk from the cows and this may indicate another connection between the two (O hOgain, 1995). 

   The terms bean feasa and fairy doctor are often used interchangeably and indeed there is at best a fine difference between the two. It is highly likely that the two terms, one in Irish one in English, originally were applied to a singular type of practitioner; however in the modern source material we do see a nuanced difference between how the two terms are used. The bean feasa is often called to find lost objects and discern through divination the cause and cure of ailments, from illness to butter failing to churn (O Crualaoich, 2005). The fairy doctor, on the other hand, is called when fairy involvement is known or suspected, especially relating to afflictions caused by them, or when witchcraft is suspected, in order to discern the best cure (Wilde, 1991). The ban feasa was said to never teach her magic to others or preform her charms in front of people, while the fairy doctor could teach others, particularly passing her knowledge on to her child (Wilde, 1991; Locke, 2013). One might argue that the bean feasa is more of a general practitioner while the fairy doctor is a specialist, but both derive knowledge and power from their relationship with the Other Crowd. 

   Bean feasa means wise woman but it has connotations of someone who deals with the Other Crowd (fairies), specifically someone who gains their knowledge from the Gentry and is often away with them. It was believed that a bean feasa gained her power after being taken by the Fair Folk or spending time with them; that they taught her occult knowledge and continued to provide her with information and help (O Cualaoich, 2005). Often such a woman might appear to have knowledge of events occurring at a distance or the location of items, and such knowledge was said to be given to them by the fairies (O Cualaoich, 2003). The bean feasa helped the community with herbal remedies, divination, and advice especially relating to the fairies. Bean feasa were almost always older women, unmarried, who were known to travel (O Crualaoich, 2005). Biddy Early was a notable exception to this being often married and stationary; such was her reputation for curing that people came from all over to see her (Magic and Religious Cures, 2014). Herbal cures are employed by the bean feasa, but generally are used for their magical, more than their medicinal, properties (O Craulaoich, 2005). This can be seen in stories which describe the special way or place the herb must be gathered or include geasa around their use. These geis may include no one watching as they are prepared or given, the herb being brought to the person in total silence, or not looking backwards (O Craulaoich, 2005). Although known for clairvoyance and getting knowledge from the Gentry, the bean feasa were also known to use a form of divination involving dishes, sieves, or bowls, where they would shift or move around a selection of these items and then divine based on how the objects settle (O Crualaoich, 2003). 

   Lady Wilde describes fairy doctors thus: "The fairy doctors are generally females. Old women, especially, are considered to have peculiar mystic and supernatural power. They cure chiefly by charms and incantations, transmitted by tradition through many generations; and by herbs, of which they have a surprising knowledge." (Wilde, 1991). Whereas witches were thought to gain their powers from alliances with spirits and their own will, fairy doctors got theirs from the Good People (Yeats, 1888). Fairy doctors were more specific in what they did than the bean feasa, focusing on things that seemed to have a supernatural cause, and would be called in to discern if that cause was malignant witchcraft or fairies. The fairy doctor was most known for being able to recognize the ill effects of elfshot, the fairy wind, and the evil eye, all of which she could diagnose and then treat with charms or incantations, and less often herbal remedies (Wilde, 1991). Fairy doctors were also thought to be able to have the spirit sight and so could deal with the Fair Folk and see, for example, if a home had been built on a fairy road or near a fairy door.  It was believed that a person, usually but not always a woman, became a fairy doctor after either being away with the fairies or after suffering an illness that brought her near death and so closer to the spirit world (Locke, 2013). This closeness to the fairies granted the fairy doctor a special knowledge of magical afflictions and of herbal cures, and in some cases may have granted some type of psychic power. The fairy doctor used herbs, crystals, chants, charms, and special healing stones to work their cures (Locke, 2013). 

  It is said in many sources that the bean feasa and fairy doctors both would take no money for their charms or spells, but would accept gifts afterwards; money could be taken though for herbal cures (Wilde, 1991). Fairy doctors were known to be paid in barter, especially food and drink (Locke, 2013). It should be kept in mind though that the gifting after a cure was a requirement more than a suggestion; Biddy Early was said to make enough in her curing work that none of her husbands had to work.
   So what we see is a complex belief system that - much like the Fairy Faith's own approach to viewing the Good People - encompasses a selection of titles given to a certain type of magical practitioner whose application varied by circumstance and perspective. One person's cailleach may be another's bean feasa, and a third might describe that person as a fairy doctor - as we see with Biddy Early who bears all three titles. A close look at each shows distinct differences and specific practices and skills that define each one, however in modern pagan practice it is difficult to clearly delineate between the ban feasa and fairy doctor, if the terms are even known, and both might be lumped under the wider term of witchcraft. I believe though that it would do us well to try to return to the more nuanced meanings and get away from a dependence on the more common but less specific term of "witch" for those who do fit the general descriptions of bean feasa or fairy doctor. Certainly both are still here, and as more attention is brought to the old fairy beliefs and practices both the bean feasa and fairy doctor can find a place in the modern world.


References:

Hall, A., (2005) Getting Shot of Elves: Healing, Witchcraft and Fairies in the Scottish Witchcraft Trials. Folklore Vol. 116, No. 1 (Apr., 2005)
O Crualaoich, G., (2005) Reading the Bean Feasa. Folklore Vol. 116, No. 1 (Apr., 2005)
O Crualaoich, G., (2003) The Book of The Cailleach
Magic and Religious Cures (2014). Ask About Ireland. Retrieved from http://www.askaboutireland.ie/reading-room/history-heritage/folklore-of-ireland/folklore-in-ireland/healers-and-healing/magic-and-religious-cures/
Danaher, K., (1964). Irish Customs and Beliefs
Wilde, L., (1991). Irish Cures and Mystic Superstitions
O hOgain, D., (1995). Irish Superstitions

Yeats, W (1888). Fairy and Folktales of the Irish Peasantry 
Locke, T., (2013). The Fairy Doctor. Retrieved from http://www.irishabroad.com/blogs/PostView.aspx?pid=4404

Personal Boundaries, Sovereignty, and Consent Culture

  I was recently reminded of an older blog post by John Beckett about boundaries and it got me thinking. We all have personal boundaries, of course, but I think too often in interacting with others there is a default assumption that others share either our personal boundaries or else wider cultural boundaries. To me, when we talk about personal boundaries I immediately think about consent culture and the idea of personal sovereignty.
     Whether we like to admit it or not we live in a society that assumes our bodies are not really our own, especially if you are female*. From a young age most of us are taught to hug people whether we want to or not, because it's "polite". Children learn quickly that it doesn't matter whether they want to or not, its expected. Of course some people enjoy this contact and do it by choice, but there is also an underlying assumption that it is a social norm. Women constantly fight against the ideas that being female means owing physical contact to other people usually expressed as intimacy. The whole concept of the "friend zone" exemplifies this because it carries the implicit belief that if someone likes a woman and tries to court her she is somehow being unfair or manipulative to deny that person an emotional or physical response they want. Many pregnant women experience having their belly touched by strangers, without their permission, as if being pregnant in itself ceded such consent away. I have had my hair, tattoos, and (yes, really) breasts touched in public by strangers who believed they had a right to touch me without my permission. In the pagan community there is also often an assumption that physical touch is wanted or accepted so much so that I have sometimes seen people refer to hugging as the pagan handshake, as if it were the default greeting.
   Here's the problem. Not everyone wants to be touched, especially by strangers or people they don't know well. There are many reasons why someone may not want to be touched, but honestly it doesn't matter. The point is that not everyone welcomes casual touching or hugging. For some people there is a strong boundary that exists at the limit of their personal space which says please stay out, in the same way that another person might feel about strangers or acquaintances going through their purse or wallet without asking. To me part of  our right to control our own body and what happens to it includes being able to decide where that boundary of personal touch is.
    What baffles me here is the offense people take when someone who doesn't want to be touched expresses that. People who want to hug seem to believe people who don't want to hug are rejecting them on a personal level, when that is not (generally) the case at all. It isn't a judgment on the hugging individual as a person (again usually) so much as it is an expression of the non-hugging individuals personal comfort levels. I'll use myself as an example. I do not like being touched by most people, and being hugged by people I don't know or don't know very well and trust causes me anxiety. You'll note I said most, so right off I get criticized because I say I don't like being touched but then I do let some people touch me - as if it's only acceptable for me to have this boundary if I make it all or nothing, again removing my ability to choose who I am and am not comfortable being touched by. Most people don't ask, they simply hug, putting me in the extremely awkward position of either letting them violate my personal space in a way that I find upsetting or of ducking away which they find offensive. I usually brace myself and put up with it, because in my experience rejecting unwanted physical contact that is socially acceptable, is ironically not socially accepted. And for those of you reading this and thinking I'm exaggerating, the next time you go to a larger pagan event try to enforce a strict "no touching" rule. When I was at Pantheacon I even wore a ribbon, bright red, which said "No touchy!!" and it made no discernible difference, although several people did apologize after hugging me, then asking permission, and being told I would really prefer not to (and I appreciate the apology, even retrospectively).
 

  I have seen an online discussion about this subject in a pagan group where people argued that hugging shouldn't require consent and that non-huggers needed to conform. One person even went so far as to suggest forcibly hugging people who expressed a desire not to be touched, because they needed to get over it. I've also seen people who don't want to be touched called un-pagan, mean, and heard it said that if you don't like hugs you're missing out on some essential aspect of community building. In the same way that people who are very open to touching are judged negatively, so people who don't like to touch are judged.
   Not wanting to be touched has nothing to do with me judging you. It has everything to do with me needing to feel like I am controlling what is happening to my own body. This is where personal sovereignty comes in, because personal sovereignty, to me, is the idea that we as individuals are in control of what happens to our own bodies; you are the supreme authority of your own flesh. I decide what I am comfortable doing and not doing, and I decide who can and can't enter my personal space and what they can and can't do there. To put a twist on an old saying, however, my sovereignty ends where the next person's begins. Some people have permeable boundaries, and that's fine if that's what they are comfortable with. Some people have rigid boundaries and that should be fine too, if that is what they are comfortable with. The key here is that we each should have the ability to decide for ourselves what happens to our own bodies*.
   Another vital aspect of this, which could really solve many of the problems caused by the assumption that touching as social norms are okay, is the idea of consent culture. Simply put, ask first. If you want to hug someone, ask. And respect their answer, even if it's no. Don't take that no personally or assume anything about why the answer is no, because likely it isn't about you at all. Consent culture is rooted in respect and the idea that by asking first we are acknowledging the other person's sovereignty over their own body, just like we would their car or purse (I hope).
       Consent culture is not something we have right now, it's a work in progress, but it is something we can make a reality. In the same way personal sovereignty is something we each must work to understand and establish for ourselves, because no one can give us sovereignty it is something that we must learn to stand up for. I highly recommend JD Hobbes"The Hug as a Personal Greeting" for guidelines on good etiquette on touching other people at public events. And hopefully as we move forward we can learn to respect each other's limits, instead of judging those who have comfort-zones different from our own.
 


* cis-, trans-, or any other form of female identification are all considered female here
* you can pretty much guess from this view how I feel about most subjects relating to body-choices. I admit though that children are a grey area because they should be raised with a sense of personal sovereignty but also must, by necessity, fall under their parents decision making processes in many things. That's a topic for a blog on it's own however

Read All the Things!

  Those of you who enjoy my translation efforts, don't worry I have some interesting bits about Tech Duinn and Donn coming out tomorrow, but today I wanted to shift back a bit into a more discussion style blog.
    I've noticed a trend lately of people asking for opinions about books and getting some strangely territorial responses. What I mean by that is responses which seem to assume there is one - and only one - book worth getting on a particular subject. It can get very Highlander-esque ("There can be only one!") with people advocating for one book and putting down others like there was some sort of epic prize to be won.

my son with volume 1 of Air n-Aithesc a peer reviewed CR journal. He has good taste in reading material

   First of all, book recommendations will always be highly personal. The book one person loves another person may not be able to finish. So there is that, and we should never forget that a recommendation is really just an opinion about what someone liked. In some cases it isn't even about whether the book is good or bad, just whether it resonated with that person. My preferences tend to extremes - either dry and academic or highly engaging and experiential; some people may like one or the other but many people don't like either. Just like I like chocolate ice cream, but someone else might not; that doesn't mean chocolate ice cream is bad per se.
   Secondly, what a person wants to get out of the book and their own background matters. If someone who is coming from a very neo-pagan background asks me for a book recommendation on Celtic paganism my response will be different than if someone who is coming from a CR approach asks the same question. Context mattes.
   Speaking of context. There's this strange idea that I've seen floating around that if a book is too "Wiccan*" or "New age**" it is somehow flawed or inferior. Let's get something straight here if you are neopagan or worshiping in a neopagan dynamic then there is nothing wrong with books written to cater to that market. While I may be one of the first people to jump on bad scholarship, modern pagan practice is not synonymous with a lack of knowledge of the subject. I have read some very good neopagan books and while that may not be my personal spiritual approach that doesn't detract from the quality of the book itself. I have also read some really awful books and articles written by people claiming a reconstructionist or polytheist approach, so its not as if we can or should assume that neopagan equals poor quality and recon equals good quality. It would be really awesome if we, as a wider community, could cut out the more-pagan-than-thou-better-scholarship-than-thou attitudes. It isn't a competition.

Variety is your friend

   Thirdly, it is entirely possible to recommend a book without putting down every other similar book. It doesn't have to be about how much you loved that one book because everything else ever written about the subject is garbage. I have never seen any subject where there is only one good book in existence on the topic. Also it is possible to recommend a book that you don't like - I do it all the time when I recommend Hutton's 'Blood and Mistletoe' which I can't personally stand but which I admit is a good basic survey of what we do and don't know about the Druids.
   Now in fairness, yes I have written book reviews and publicly said that people should avoid certain books *coughWittacough* for a variety of reasons. And if you have a really valid reason to tell someone not to read something - that it's plagiarism, that it's a disaster of inaccurate info mislabeled, that it has dangerous advice in it - then just be really clear on why you think people shouldn't read it. The reason really should be a lot more than just I didn't like it, or it didn't do anything for me personally.
    In the end it is a truism that we learn from all the sources, good, bad, and blah. Everything we read, every experience we have, contributes to our overall understanding. The key is to keep an open mind and always by willing to re-assess and change your view if you find out a source you liked wasn't accurate, or new information on a subject emerges.
   So read all the things. All of them.
   Ipsa scientia potestas est.

*obviously not referencing British Trad Wicca, but being used as a general term for Wiccan style neopaganism
** also not referencing actual New age material, but apparently being used as a pejorative.

Copyright Morgan Daimler

Morrigan's Call Retreat 2015

A ritual honoring Badb at the Retreat

   I have just returned from the second annual Morrigan's Call Retreat and once again find myself sitting here trying to put into words an experience that is really impossible to describe. Last year the Retreat was new and smaller, fewer people, a wild and otherworldly location, and the energy of the entire weekend was a challenge to step up and answer Her call. This year was very different: more people, a new location that had more of civilization to it, and an energy that was not about hearing Her call as much as about reclaiming ourselves and our own power in this world.
   Some things did remain the same throughout. We saw an amazing mix of people from every possible background, witch and Wiccan, Druid and CR, Avalonion and eclectic, coming together to honor Her with one voice. We saw the same sense of kinship across lines that normally sharply divide, created by the common ground of a shared respect for the Great Queens. And we saw the same spirit of community ensuring that people were taken care of, that jobs were done, that when the unexpected happened there was always someone there to step up and make sure it was covered. Oh, it was far from perfect, and there was frustration and displeasure and things that went entirely off the plan but somehow the diverse strands were woven together anyway.
   The first day, as always, was the most chaotic, with people arriving and settling in, the Temple being set up through community effort and donations of material and sacred items (for the duration of the event). There were several great classes the first afternoon that I would have loved to attend, but I was teaching a workshop myself and then participating in the ritual. All of the ritual's at the Retreat are part of a larger arc, first cleansing, then challenging, then blessing; participants face the three Morrigna one at a time and, if circumstances are right and the priestess is able, may face Her in truth as She is channeled, aspected, or otherwise chooses to appear during ritual. The first night's ritual was dedicated to Badb and was very much about releasing and washing away what need to be let go of. The ritual itself was done next to a river and due to unanticipated circumstances started after dark with only a single fire at the center of the ritual space to illuminate the area. I cannot speak for the people who attended but I found it both a test of our commitment to Her and a very sacred experience.

the main altar in the temple

  The second day began on very little sleep and with a packed schedule ahead. I had two workshops during the day to teach and a second ritual to help with. My first workshop was directly after breakfast and was on the topic of Macha in mythology, always a fun subject. I was able to attend only one workshop all weekend and that was Jhenah Telyndru's class on Morgan and Avalon, but I enjoyed it and learned a new method of meditation called embodiment that I look forward to doing more with. I co-taught a workshop on grounding, centering, and shielding with Mayra Rickey and Melody Legaspi-Seils which I think went very well. Throughout the day I had many great random discussions with people and I both reconnected with old friends and made new ones. The second ritual was for Macha, and was - not surprisingly - the one I anticipated the most since she is the Goddess I am dedicated to. It focused on the theme of facing Her blade and declaring what you would fight for in life. One of my tasks as Her priestess is to carry Her sword in this ritual, and I am always honored to do it.
  After ritual there was a community feast and concert by Mama Gina, who is an amazing storyteller and singer that truly, I think, deserves the title of bard. Hearing her perform her song "Ruby" live raised the hair on my arms; its so much more evocative live than recorded (although that is still worth hearing too). There seemed to be a nice feeling of conviviality among everyone as we shared food and great music together. The cake that the caterer, Dawn DeMeo, had prepared for the feast was beyond amazing, and I must add that she made a second smaller cake for those of us who couldn't have the gluten/regular flour version which was equally amazing. (And yes, for anyone wondering, the first pieces went as offerings, to be sure that the Gods and spirits shared the feast too).

The epic cake from the feast

   The third day began with breakfast and a panel discussion on honoring the Morrigan, during which I hope I didn't talk too much. It's a subject I have so much passion about that I'm afraid I can't help but want to talk about it a lot. I know my fellow panelists are amazing people, and I loved the diversity of experience and opinion that we brought to it. There was a charity raffle for the Wounded Warrior Project. The raffle draw was great fun and people really seemed to enjoy it. I had donated a book or two and Wouldn't you know the one time my ticket was called it was for my own book? (They let me substitute a different item, but it was quite funny).
   Afterwards I had to prep for the final ritual, dedicated to Morrigan as Anu and to people reclaiming their sovereignty. In the ritual people were asked to come forward and place their hands on a stone, representing the stone of sovereignty, and to say out loud if they were ready to reclaim their power. This was meant to be a simple act but as sometimes happens it became a bit more complex. Everyone also received a small rough ruby as a symbol of having gone through the three rituals and claimed a place - symbolic, literal, or however each person chooses to incorporate it - as one of Her ravens. For that, truly is not for us to decide but for the individual to find meaning in, based in how the rituals effected them personally.
    In each ritual I did my best to serve Her, and Them, and my community. I wore a small silver pendant, of the type that people keep ashes in to commemorate loved ones; this pendant carries clay from Uaimh na gCat, the Cave of Cats, from Cruachan. The earth was a gift from a friend who visited there long ago, and carefully kept the wet clay that coated her clothing when she came out, saving it as it dried. I felt that having soil from her sacred place present at the rituals was significant for helping to have Her present as we called Her in to a new place. One of Her other priestesses, dedicated to Badb, bled into the river as the river took its due before the first ritual, and in the first Her people called her with chants and shouts and screams. And I truly believe she answered with Her presence.
   I received some personal messages through various means throughout the weekend, through an amazing Avalonian priestess and through omens and portents, messages of empowerment and of affirmation. It will not be easy to move forward in the strength other people are telling me I have, or that I know she wants for me but I will try. I will try.
    The Morrigan's Call Retreat was once again an amazing experience. I will never cease to be amazed at seeing so many people from so many backgrounds and who follow such different paths coming together in fellowship. Knowing that we can overcome these differences to come together and honor the same Goddesses without argument or judgment gives me such hope. And the irony that a Goddess of War can inspire such unity and fellowship among Her followers is beautiful and joyous and somehow entirely appropriate.

The river

Copyright Morgan Daimler

Preconceived Notions and Being a Goth Pagan

  I've been thinking lately about stereotypes and the way that preconceived notions and expectations shape our larger pagan community. Pervasive buggers, you know, stereotypes creep in where we least expect them. Just when we think we're in a safe place, a place free of preconceived judgments, bam! we run headfirst into one. We all experience this, I think, some of us to greater degrees than others, depending on who we are and what we identify as.
   There is a certain anonymity on the internet. To many people I'm just a name, a collection of words, without features or description. In some cases without even gender*. People who don't know me in person or who don't know me well may, and sometimes do, have very specific notions of who I am or what they envision me as. This preconceived image is sometimes very far from reality. How would you picture me, if you don't know me? You might be quite surprised by the reality. I rather imagine the same is true for most of us.
    This can become a shield, a place to hide where our true identity is not shown especially when we know that Self will draw criticism or ridicule. People can create entirely new identities, make themselves into what they wish they were rather than what they are. It can allow us to interact with people who might otherwise never speak to us based on real life qualities, such as dress or appearance. The anonymity of the internet not only allows us to create our persona for others, if we choose to, but it also can make us a blank slate to others which they then imagine as they see fit.
    It can also, conversely, encourage people to express their prejudices without realizing they are speaking directly to someone in the group they are mocking. As part of several subcultures and marginalized groups I've gotten used to it, although it does still occasionally bother me. I've lost track of how often I've seen people within the wider pagan community making off-hand comments that belittle or make fun of groups I belong to. Words are weapons, and casual words can be far more painful than intended.
   I am Goth and I am pagan. I have been pagan for a few years longer than I've been Goth, and one has nothing directly to do with the other, but both are important aspects of my life. Both are part of who I am.
  I have been told, years ago, by someone I respected very much at the time that I need to stop dressing like a stereotypical witch because it made all witches look less respectable.
  I have been told that people like me are why others don't want to call themselves pagan.
  I have been told that when I get a bit more experience or have been pagan for longer** I'll outgrow wanting to wear black
  I have been told that it's sad that I want attention so bad I'm willing to play into the stereotype.
  I have been told that no one will take me seriously as long I keep dressing Goth.
  I have been told that I must be a Satanist, not a pagan, or I wouldn't dress that way.
  And on and on and on.
  There seems to be an assumption that if you are Goth and pagan you must be a newbie, and seeking attention, and not very serious, and confused, and melodramatic. Goth pagans are rarely taken seriously in my experience and are very often criticized, even publicly shamed, for their perceived insincerity, youth, inexperience, and negative reflection on the rest of pagandom.
  Let's be clear here. Goth is a subculture based in a variety of things including fashion, music and a certain macabre aesthetic. It reflects what I like and what I am comfortable with. Paganism (Irish Reconstructionism and witchcraft) is my religion. It reflects a certain worldview, cosmology and core set of beliefs. The two, subculture and religion, are not at odds and I have found they go well enough together in my life. Why my fashion choices and taste in music bother some of my coreligionists so much kind of baffles me, but I think its only fair if I can accept pagans who like Country music and denim, or Pop music and tube tops, then my personal tastes can be accepted or at least ignored.

   I'm proud of who I am, and I think I shouldn't be judged on my appearance, anymore than anyone else should be. I also think that the idea of paganism being accepted by the mainstream if we all just dress and act like the mainstream is a dangerous myth. Not only does it encourage us to try to enforce homogeneity within paganism which destroys our beautiful diversity, but it sells us a false hope that if only we act normal enough we can be treated just like the religious majority. Not because we have equal rights, not because we deserve equal treatment, but because we fit in so well that they like us enough to give us what we deserve. Think about that for a minute. Really think about it - do you want equal treatment because its owed to you, or because the powerful people decide they feel like doling it out like a table scrap?
   Sometimes generalizing is necessary, but its worth considering that if you don't personally belong to a subculture it may be unwise to think you can pass judgment on that subculture. So many of the hurtful things that I see being said are rooted in ignorance and misunderstandings that could be avoided with a bit of open-mindedness and a willingness to listen. It is also worth keeping in mind that sometimes the person who most looks like you expect a certain "type" of person to look may in fact be the least like your expectation.
  It is worth remembering when we find another person's ways confusing, as Neitzsche said "You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.”

* I have been mistaken for male on multiple occasions in discussion groups and on email lists, because of my name.
** I've been pagan since 1991 and Goth since around '94-ish. At this point I think its safe to say I'm not going to outgrow either.

Copyright Morgan Daimler

What Makes A God?

  I'm going to start out by saying clearly, I don't have any answers to this question and I don't think there is an answer. It's a question that inevitably leads to more questions. And I think that's a good thing - we should question this, we should ask ourselves the hard things like this. Without the hard questions there will never be any real growth or deep theology.

  This may - or may not - surprise people but this particular question is one I contemplate regularly. My spiritual practice includes not only beings from acknowledged pantheons who are, generally, agreed to be Gods by  most people's definitions but also beings who I term the liminal Gods who may or may not fit that definition and a wide array of spirits that I consider powerful and influential but not divine. And here is where we hit the crux of this question - how do we define a God?
  According to the dictionary* a god is a being with supernatural powers that controls an aspect of reality and can be worshiped. This presents a problem, however, for animists and those of us who work with diverse spirits because that definition could apply to many spirits who I would not necessarily call Gods. My house spirit is essential to many things and influential over my home, but I wouldn't call him a God. In the same way the Fair Folk can be very powerful and able to influence our world, but I wouldn't call them Gods, even though I offer to them and petition them for luck and blessings.
   Does worship alone make something a God? Certainly Gods are offered to, prayed to, and given acknowledgement for their worth**. Human ancestors and the Other Crowd are also offered to and given respect, and prayed to yet they aren't usually seen as Gods. This also invites the line of thought that it is humans who create and maintain Gods, putting humans, ultimately, at the top of the cosmic food chain. It also opens the questions of what happens to Gods without worshipers, and whether the God with the most followers would be the most powerful.
   Does historic precedent make something a God? That of course immediately leads to the chicken-egg dilemma as we must establish how long something has to exist or be worshiped to be a God, however it can also be helpful to look at whether something was previously considered a divinity. Also this creates a catch-22 with deified humans like Imhotep who clearly weren't Gods originally but clearly were later. And this line of thought would entirely eliminate the possibility of new Gods in our time by arguing that only pre-existing acknowledged Gods were actually divine.
   Does power make something a God? This tends to be my own measuring stick, but even this has its flaws as there are far more blurred lines than clear cut ones. What can something influence and to what degree? What are the beings limits? Of course even Gods have limits, but the power of a God should be greater than that of a ghost or a house spirit, in my opinion.
   Does area of influence make something a God? Or in other words does it have geographic limitations? Is it stationary? Some people will argue this one, because some people do see Gods as tied to locations. Even in my own belief there's a grey area here as the liminal Gods can vary by location, but they are not bound by their environment or preferred area. One measure of a God may be how far its influence extends and how much the being themselves can go. Is it a local spirit or does its influence extend or shift? Can it only manifest or effect things in one place? Or does its influence extend anywhere it chooses to go?
   These are only a few questions that come to my mind when we ask what makes something a God. There are many more that we could ask as well, and its up to each of us to decide how we feel about each question. Because in the end there is no simple answer for the question of what makes something a God.
   Ask yourself these questions, and find your own answers. I know what I think, but you don't need me to tell you how I define a God. You need to find the Truth that speaks to you, find your own understanding of this. Because my God may be your Good Neighbor, and your God may be my fictional character, and that other God over there may be someone else's archetype. Ultimately no one can tell any of us what to believe about this. We must find our own answers.

* Merriam Webster
** worship: Middle English worshipe worthiness, respect, reverence paid to a divine being, from Old English weorthscipe worthiness, respect, from weorthworthy, worth + -scipe -ship http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/worship

Copyright Morgan Daimler

On Being *That* Guy

  Everyone knows that guy*, the person who is always one of the first ones to speak up about paganism or polytheism, even though they don't really know that much about it. The one who puts down other religions while simultaneously complaining bitterly about religious persecution. The one who is certain that all the debunked bad history is actually true, from the Burning Times (tm) to all-male Druids, from the Golden Age of Matriarchy to the ancient neolithic Wiccans. And no amount of discussion, logic, or evidence can dissuade that guy from their very loud opinions. That guy is the one who makes more experienced people wince or roll their eyes, or in some cases lose their tempers.
   We're all quick to complain about that guy, to criticize and, if we're honest, to go after that guy one way or another: to try to prove them wrong, or teach them, to show them up, or maybe just shut them up. When that guy appears in a discussion, with their loud declarations and boundless belief, you can watch the newer people's eyes widening in confusion and uncertainty and the more expereinced people bristling and girding for battle. We commiserate with each other, present a united front, and advise everyone else not to be that guy. No one gets less sympathy than that guy.
  The thing is - we were all that guy, once upon a time. Maybe not as loudly, or as spectacularly. Maybe not at a time when social media made being that guy a ringside event that people need popcorn for. But we, at least most of us, if we are honest with ourselves, went through that phase in our spirituality where we bordered on zealot and our beliefs were like boulders, even when those beliefs were spun of wishful thinking and fantasy. Most of us have had that time when defending the faith was a badge of honor, even if we were defending it against dragons that looked a lot like windmills to everyone else. If you didn't, if you avoided ever, even once, being that guy, then good on you but I think its something most of us go through. I certainly look back now at a certain, shall we say, enthusiastic period of my spiritual life with a blush and a shrug.
   I'm writing about this today because, as strange as this might sound, I think we need to give that guy a break. When they are foaming at the mouth over things that seem like shadows to us, when they are exuberantly insisting that fantasy is history, when they are loudly declaring their personal spirituality to be the entirety of paganism for everyone, everywhere, I think we need to remember what it felt like to be in that place in our own journey. When that outer passion was maybe covering an absolute terror of being wrong, when that exuberance was disguising a desperate desire to fit in and belong somewhere. Think back to what made you that guy, once upon a time, and try to have a bit of empathy for someone else who is perhaps in that same place. And maybe ask yourself why that guy bothers you so much to begin with.
   Don't stop not being that guy of course, and don't stop living and speaking your own truth. And by all means let that guy know there are other options, other ways, and for the love of the Gods better history. But instead of doing it with words aimed like a sword point or arguments that land like fists, maybe try to listen to what's really being said, and the message behind what's being said, and answer with kindness and an open dialogue.
  It's an idea anyway.

*guy used here in a gender neutral sense, applicable equally to males or females. And yes I really do talk that way in real life.

Copyright Morgan Daimler