Beltane - the Musical -- a ritual by Circle Shalee

When I attend public rituals, I have high expectations. They should be participatory and powerful. Things should happen. Energy should be raised. Being experienced in creating ritual, I also appreciate creativity in rituals. I was not disappointed when I attended the latest Full Moon Celebration sponsored by Circles in the Woods CUUPs and presented by Circle Shalee. They crafted their ritual from familiar popular songs, from "I'd Like To Teach the World to Sing" by the New Seekers to "Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash to "Singing in the Rain" by Gene Kelly. They passed out copies of the lyrics and we all sang along. For the working we had a spiral dance to "Abracadabra" by Steve Miller.
Between the words of the songs, the emotional context of my own history with these songs, the general theme of Beltane, and the repeated reference to fire, this was a powerful experience for me. Especially during the spiral dance in which I could not participate physically, fire energy rose in me, not surprising with the lyrics, "Every time you call my name I heat up like a burning flame, Burning flame full of desire. Kiss me baby, let the fire get higher." As we dismissed the West with "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head" by B. J. Thomas, the words, "Because I'm free - Nothing's worrying me!" strike me at a deep psychic and spiritual level. This seemed like the preparation for words in our Circle opening from "With Arms Wide Open" by Creed, "Well I just heard the news today, It seems my life is gonna change."
All this brought me to a profound and sweeping realization. Over the last few years I have been undergoing such drastic changes. Most people fear change, but I welcome it and seek it. Much change has already happened but more is coming and I grow impatient for it. Furthermore, the coming changes are not only within me but in my life, from my immediate sphere of influence and working outward. Much of the psychic and emotional pain that I have been experiencing comes from standing on the brink of such changes with every oracle I've consulted and every fiber of my being saying, "The longed-for changes are imminent." Nevertheless, the change has not come. It feels like balancing on the edge of a knife, not a comfortable place to stay. Still other of my emotional pain comes from the inability of others to accept the changes that have been happening in me. I would prefer to maintain and develop both my existing and new friendships, but I can't stand still just because some of them can't accept me as I grow and change.
After the ritual, while I was standing in line for the "covered dish" supper, an attractive lady came up to the elderly gentleman in line in front of me to speak to him and say goodbye before she left. I was just standing there, perhaps staring a little, thinking about having seen her at other Full Moon Celebrations and noting that, although we had never talked, nonverbal cues had given me a favorable impression of her. Furthermore, I thought that the next time I saw her at another event I should try to make her acquaintance. Then, without any warning she introduced herself to me which definitely threw me off balance. Although I responded by telling her my regular name and my Cherokee name and I tried to repeat her name to myself to remember it, I was so befuddled that I forgot it anyway.
For the rest of the time that my sister and I were there, I noticed that several females seemed inexplicably drawn toward my presence. I don't think this was an illusion, but it is something for which my life has not prepared me. Other men may find such things common occurrences, but I never have. I am still trying to process these experiences.

My Second Adolescence continues

In the time since my previous blog post on this topic I have seen progress that I have made. Once a painfully shy child, I can now strike up a conversation with a stranger although I still need some basic context for my starting point. Having grown up in a matriarchal family, I have always been comfortable in the company of women as long as there is no context of male-female relationships. This has left me with the painful knowledge that I am more like what women say they want than what they demonstrate they want. Over and over I have heard women say they wanted a nice guy who is thoughtful and considerate or complain about how thoughtless and inconsiderate their boyfriend is, only to see them continue to choose another guy whom they consider good looking or "good in bed" but is also thoughtless and inconsiderate. That last evaluation is particularly distressing, because almost no one knows how I am in bed. How then can I be judged as not being "good in bed"?
Another area of progress that I have made is that although I have always had body image problems to the extent that I avoided being seen without a shirt, not only have I become comfortable naked in front of strangers, but also I commonly wear only a sarong at fire circles at All World Acres and at Florida Pagan Gathering. However, this is the toughest area for me, because the evidence is that I am old, fat and unattractive. To strengthen my new confidence I must ignore the evidence of my experience. Not once have I had any indication that I am attractive to women and scales don't lie to me about my weight.
As I wrote in a comment following up the previous blog post on this topic:"While I haven't had sex for 27 years, I also haven't had any romantic type kissing and snuggling in that same length of time. One of the painful things at FPG Beltaine was that with the "kissing stones" I wasn't even a potential candidate to participate. We human beings are so constructed that we need physical contact to thrive. This is one reason that I have unconsciously evolved into a hugger, because that seems to be the only way that I get my requisite of contact." In the year since that Beltaine, I remain unkissed and have little prospect of changing that, because I can't afford to take anyone out on a date. When I did get a free pass to a movie, I couldn't contact anyone to take with me.
Adding injury to injury, this Friday I am seeing a urologist about prostate problems. Every course of treatment about which I have read has the potential or even probability of adverse side effects with regard to sexual function. That means that before I have the opportunity for sexual activity, I may no longer have the possibility of it. That prospect would be profoundly depressing. In fact, I am considering refusing any course of treatment with such a side effect, even if I were being treated for prostate cancer.

FPG Beltaine 2008

I had a most wonderful overall experience at FPG Beltaine 2008. I met a lot of fascinating people for the first time and spent time with others I have known. On top of this I got to spend time with still others that I seldom get to see.
There were also some very powerful spiritual and learning experiences, some of which extend beyond the festival itself. Thursday morning, I went with Grey Ghosthawk to gather willow to build the sweat lodge. While we were at one location, I noticed that a solitary vulture was perched on one of the high voltage power poles watching us. After a while I started feeling a little funky, because in my hurry I hadn't eaten any breakfast or taken my morning medications. Ghosthawk told me to sit in the truck for a little while and I started drinking some grapefruit juice that I had bought. While I was sitting in the truck, I noticed that the vulture had flown away. We joked that he had been thinking, "If this fool keeps doing what he is doing, we are feasting," but when I sat down and drank the juice, he thought, "Oh s__t, I have to go hunting."
Thursday afternoon while the sweat lodge was being built I began preparing for building our fire, selecting the stones and the first pieces of wood as well as gathering tinder and kindling. After I built the fire and lit it, it started quickly and intensely. In fact, although I usually light the fire from each direction, this one started so strongly that I couldn't get near the west side. Later, while I was tending the fire, going around it to find what was needed, I noticed that after I had gone around more than 360 degrees, the flames and smoke had been following me. I was blessed with an intense vision when I went in to the lodge for the fourth round. After the lodge and a shower I went to the fire circle wearing only a sarong. I was so full of fire energy that I did not feel the cool night air or hunger for hours.
Friday morning, as I was having my first cup of coffee in front of my tent I saw two ravens having a territorial dispute with another smaller bird. When the smaller bird seemed to win, the ravens began "arguing" like a human couple: "Why did you pick that homesite?" Also, while I was getting my things together for my workshop, I was able to listen to Gina Estevez's workshop. Although there was a small turnout for my workshops, they were intensely interested. Furthermore, I see ways to improve my presentation, especially with the Hindu ritual.
Friday afternoon I had some health issues come up for which I am most grateful to the Guardians for their care. Unfortunately, that kept me from attending workshops that I had hoped to attend as well as keeping me from building and lighting the sweat lodge fire. However, I did recover in time to tend the fire which Ghosthawk had started. After I had given them the stones and the water and closed the door for the first round, I sat down outside the door. As I sat there, I heard a sound and noticed movement to my right. When I looked, I saw a shadow moving just outside the taped off area. I soon recognized that the shape and its movement belonged to a bear. I thought, "It's 'THE BEAR' (the one we hear about at the camp)." However, as I was watching it, it faded away like mist, obviously a spirit bear. When I was sitting outside the door for the next round, I saw a pair of eyes catching the light. At first I thought this might be an alligator, but I soon realized that at the angle I was seeing them, the eyes could not be out on the lake. After a little more observation, I recognized that, from its size and the way it moved, it was some form of dog, either a domestic dog or a coyote. Since this was the "coyote round," I tend to think that this was a spirit coyote, although I did not notice when it went away. Again I was blessed with a powerful vision which, in many ways, was a continuation of the vision from the previous night.
Like the previous night, after a shower, I went to the fire circle. There I got body painting by Cadea on my back, a raven and flames.
Saturday morning my Buddhism workshop was scheduled at 9 AM, but I was blessed with a few very intensely interested attendees. Unfortunately, like the previous morning the Recovery meeting was scheduled at the same time in the other room at Bag End. At least I was able each day to greet some of those in the other group which can be very supportive for someone in Recovery like myself with 22 years sobriety..
Later, although I had been unable to attend the other Druid workshops, I did manage to get to the Druid ritual which proved to be a powerful spiritual experience. Ellen Evert Hopman has a powerful spiritual presence about her. I helped Kaos get the fire bowl and set up the fire. During the ritual, as I was giving my offerings to the tree, I felt its spiritual presence most powerfully. Later as I was giving my offering of oil to the fire, in spite of the intense wind that forced the flames and smoke in one direction, when I was upwind of the fire, I saw some of the flames curling toward me as if trying to oppose the wind. I saw the same phenomenon when Kaos, another lover of fire, made his offering. At the conclusion of the ritual, a divination is done to find out whether our offerings are accepted. The answer was that we had been heard, but that the Goddess of Life and Light and the Goddess of Death wanted more offerings in the form of food and drink offerings. While I am accustomed to preparing a "spirit plate," I wondered how I might be able offer libations since I am 22 years sober. The solution soon came to me: When I am next offered a drink, as I inevitably would be, after a brief explanation I should thank the person and pour out the libation. That night, such an opportunity did present itself and I poured out a little of the drink I was offered without making the person the least bit angry about it.
That night the main ritual was so wonderful. It was a beautiful example that size does not prevent a ritual from being participatory nor from raising energy. I joked with friends that we were trying for the record for the number of people in a Spiral Dance. I felt very energized again with fire energy since the Goddess invoked was Pele. However, I was not brave enough to jump the fire. I joked at the time that, at my age, I really didn't want the fertility it might confer.
Then we went down to the fire circle where I again got body painting on my back. This time, while Cadea had provided the paints, we were to paint each other. One young lady, although she had someone else paint her, painted a bear's paw on my back. In turn, I painted a lady I had met through mutual friends. I stated at the time that I knew that I would be painting her breasts and nothing more. However, I was not particularly happy with the fairy I painted on her shoulder, lacking fine enough brushes or thick enough paints. Inspired by the experience of painting as well as enjoying being painted, I think I shall bring my own brushes and paints to Samhain. Although I had joked about using edible paints and such do exist, even chocolate, I'm not sure that offering to paint a lady with them would be well received.
I then divided my time between visiting with friends and drumming. I even danced a little, but mainly I was focused on drumming the sun up. Knowing that I had found pleasure and a sense of acceptance in it before, it seemed a suitable way to combat the negative feelings from all the talk about sex and my exclusion from the actuality of it.

Giving Thanks

Sunday night I was listening to a community radio station's program of Native American music. This time of year raises negative emotions for some members of the tribes. However, aside from the historical misunderstanding and misrepresentations that cause such pain to so many, the giving of thanks is very much in keeping with our traditions.

The host of the radio show played "Giving Thanks," a cut from Joanne Shenandoah's album Covenant. The power of this prayer moved me to tears. How often do we really feel gratitude for the bounties with which Creator has blessed us? When do we connect with all the spiritual forces around us? Don't we usually conduct ourselves as though we are something separate from and above nature?

You and I both need to recognize our connectedness to everything that is. Not only that, but we must also understand that even the most "inanimate" objects are imbued with spirit!

FPG Samhain 2007

I had an incredibly rewarding and fulfilling time at Florida Pagan Gathering's Samhain 2007.
First of all, I spent time with so many people whom I rarely get to see. There were even a few who hadn't seen me in a long time and had to do a little adjusting to the eclectic developments in my spirituality.
Second, I got to spend a significant amount of time at the fire circle drumming. I don't drum for other people, but rather for myself. I have no illusion that there is any virtuosity in my playing. Instead it is a way to attain an altered state of consciousness. This particular "altered state," unlike that which I used to reach though alcohol, doesn't get me in trouble with the law or result in grossly embarrassing behaviour. As a clear side effect however, my drumming may actually be pleasing to others.
Third, I made significant progress in overcoming the negative self talk that I have internalized from others. Specifically, I actually got up and danced around the fire and even got myself painted. For me this was quite a departure for the norm, but I felt so free and particularly blessed. I was so thrilled with her work that, when the artist touched it up the next day, I immediately had it photographed (the picture you see here). Furthermore, for the rest of the day and well into the night, or rather the predawn hours, I would not wear a shirt. Indeed, I had to go to the fire circle, because it was particularly cold that night. However, I guess that was exactly where in the universe I was supposed to be, because I met two ladies who had wanted to attend my workshop that morning as well as a lady who had wanted to meet me. And then, after the drumming started and I joined in, I was transported elsewhere.
Fourth, in fire tending for the sweat lodge and in doing my workshops and in facilitating a "Wellbriety-style" talking circle and even in little things I did with other staff, I felt that I was contributing positively to the world in which we live. I also had that most pleasant of feelings for one who seeks to be of service, being appreciated. Too often I feel that I'm doing so much for so many, but nobody cares.
On the other hand, it seems that someone who had a very serious respiratory infection came on the first day that staff started working. Those staff members were exposed and two days later became symptomatic and contagious, at least for those of us who were in close daily contact. Classic epidemiology: "patient zero" exposes the first group Tuesday who then are symptomatic and contagious on Thursday exposing the second group that day who then become symptomatic and contagious on Saturday and so on and so on... We dubbed it the "staff infection."
This means that on Saturday night, when I was protecting my beautiful art by not wearing a shirt, I was coming down with this disease. On Sunday, when I was breaking down my camp as well as helping disassemble the sweat lodge and pack its supplies, I tired easily and was often out of breath at the least exertion. By Wednesday, when I saw my doctor, he said I was on the verge of pneumonia. Even now, two weeks after FPG Samhain, I am still not recovered. At least, when I am not coughing too bad, I have been trying to learn new things about this computer and improve the way things are set up.
On the bright side, I should be over with this stuff in time for Thanksgiving Day with friends and the Full Moon Celebration on Saturday at CUUPS Tampa. In the coming month there will be Yulefest at All World Acres where I will be actively participating in the ritual. I even have a very interesting wedding to officiate. I will enjoy creating a very special service which reflects the culture of both the bride and the groom.

My Second Adolescence

There are so many developmental stages through which we progress during our lives. Each of us goes at our own pace and with varying difficulty. Whether they are physical, emotional, or spiritual stages we need to accomplish the growth of each stage if we are to be healthy and mature. While I found my childhood during school problematic, the most difficult time was my adolescence.
My first adolescence, when I was a teenager, was a horrific, excruciatingly painful time. With all the insecurities of the period and striving to be liked especially by the opposite sex, I experienced a lot of the emotional pain. I was neither part of the “in crowd” nor particularly attractive to the opposite sex. During all of high school I only had three dates and they were all effectively chaperoned because my older sister had to drive me. During college, things were little better, being the era of ”free love,”only making the pain worse. My only girlfriend during my first period at the University of Florida was the frigid daughter of an alcoholic and I soon began drinking alcoholically myself. When I went through my first enlistment in the Navy, I frequented prostitutes and never had a real girlfriend for all of those four years.
Things did not improve when I returned to finish college. By this time I was attending Alcoholics Anonymous which really isn't that good a place to find someone with whom to build a healthy relationship. When I finally met someone who seemed genuinely attracted to me, it was a stripper in a bar where I had no business if I was truly trying to stay sober. There followed a marriage which was one long violent nightmare which nearly destroyed me. Therefore, the prospect of revisiting that period of my life is far from attractive. Nevertheless, I must complete the process of maturing emotionally that I failed to complete all of those years ago.
Having grown to understand that my taking monastic vows was, in part, a flight from the pain of a nightmarish marriage, some time ago I renounced those vows and opened to the possibility of sex in my life. However, I find I am just as inept as I ever was with regard to women. All the old insecurities are back with renewed force.
While I have reached a stage of greater acceptance of my body to the extent that I found myself in a Moksha demonstration comfortable when naked in front of strangers, I still feel unattractive to the opposite sex. The insecurity was acutely painful at Beltaine, Attending on successive weekends, Beltainia at All World Acres, Body Magick at All World Acres and Florida Pagan Gathering's Beltaine, I had a three week long celebration of Beltaine. This being a fertility festival, sexuality is highlighted. The only ladies for whom I held any sexual interest were quite drunk at the time and, on more than one occasion, only as a second or third choice. Such an experience does not do anything to build up one's already fragile self-confidence. In fact, at one point my depression was so deep that I might have done violence to myself or started back drinking alcohol, a slower suicide, but for the fact that a transexual told me that she found me attractive even if I weren't inclined myself to have sex under those circumstances.
It really is not surprising that I am particularly inept with all the preliminaries surrounding sex, especially with recognizing the opportunity when it presents itself, since almost all of my sexual experiences prior to meeting my ex-wife were with prostitutes. Furthermore, there was only one woman with whom I had sex after my marriage broke up. In other words, many high school kids have more sexual experience than I have, as far as relationships are concerned.
I am at a loss to find the solution to my predicament. I have no clue with regard to making myself more attractive to women. Not only am I ignorant of what would make me so, but I also I doubt there is anything within my power to change in this regard. Furthermore, I am just as celibate today as when I was bound by monastic vows.

burnt toast

Hot. Red pepper tamale hot. My god, she was so flaming hot I had to strip down naked, roll in the reeking mud like a wild hog to staycool, until even the fetid bog dried up and turned to graveyard dust. I then felt compelled to give up the proverbial ghost, leaving my bones to bleach white in the scorching heat of the Great Mother's alchemical furnace. What sort of cake would she bake next? What tasty stew would her cauldron brew? Only the thermophiles knew a sure future. For all the rest of flesh the chances for sustainable survival were not much more than a beggar's zilch as the temperatures climbed and the surface sparked, ignited, quickly combusting, leaving behind blackened charcoal, gray ash, and a thickening atmosphere filled with poisonous heat trapping CO2.

Purification by fire the Hopi prophesized and sure as shootin' they weren't just tootin' the horns of street corner apocalypse. This is the real thing. Turn on the air conditioner, fire up another power plant to handle the load, dump tons of CO2 into the atmosphere raising the temperature some more so we have to turn up the air conditioner, which requires higher output from the power plant, which spews more CO2 in a vicious circle spiraling out of quasi-human control. Ah, for the life of a mole …

We might have done better to leave well enough alone and maybe learn to build homes underground and gardens on top. But no, we aspired to bend the Great Mother to our will and testament, harness her to the wagon of industry, and make huge raping profits off the spoils of biosphere exploitation. What an artificial nation! Take a vacation and see her fading beauty before she dries up shriveled into the "hag at the crossroads" where we sit like poisonous toads dumping our loads before expiring along with the water hole. The deepest wells were finally sucked dry. We doomed ourselves while blaming everything and everyone else for our errors.

Do you dream reality? Does reality dream you? There is no actual escape. Fantasy departs when the grid goes down and we are left in the dark fending for ourselves. The whole city is a ghetto and much of the countryside is either owned and operated by fast food corporations and paved suburban malls or is another dried up gene modified mega farm powered by the self-consumption of biofuels, fed on the byproducts of dwindling crude oil. Where are the backyard organic gardens? Is there a backyard to garden and, if so, why aren't we busy replacing the well mowed lawns?

My videogame cell phone oracle has no sane answers. Answers are for sissies. We're planning on toughing and bluffing our way through the blistering reality straight into the lake of fire, stopping to roll like hogs in the mire before we expire and are discarded like burnt black toast. We call it the Great Mother's Roast which reminds the dead church of it's dark history of witch and faggot burning. Who needs midwives, herbal healers, and sane people of nature when there are cities to build, a population to control, and a Book of Revelation to fulfill? Sell them the swill. Give the masses bread and circuses
and wars of terror to entertain and consume a portion of the expendable overpopulation. Salute your damned nation. Remain at your appointed station.

Whatever you do you may not combine talents and resources for mutual aid and support. If you do there will be a secret report and horned lord cattle roundup when the Burning Bush decrees another divinely inspired God-directed attack. There is a glowing gourd of ashes out back. The Beast 666 sees no lack of opportunity for unleashing the solar current directly on already scarred skin, pretending it is not a sin to plunder, tear asunder, and cleave the Priestess on the rack. We are so far gone now that there is no turning back. We might as well get our kicks in before the whole shithouse goes up in fact. How is that for tact? No need for sugar coating the truth when the fundamental theocracy steals the votes before the peasants get to the booth. I can see the imperial ministers proclaiming wildly "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth" and filling the temple with money machines. Donate your deepest dreams so the deadly fathers and carnival conmen can spend them for you.

We need conversion surfaces rather than converting churches. This diatribe of the dark future is being typed on a solar electric powered computer as the solar electrified fans blows the cooler evening air over my bare skin, a lesser sin against nature, something she might be able to live with. Imagine a surface which both shades the body from the sunlight's harsh glare and turns that glare into pollutionless free electricity. Now we're getting somewhere that the oilmen of god don't want you to know about. Too late. The cat is out of the bag and it's not about to go back.

--- by a friend called Jade