Concept art for Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, by Gustav Tenggren

THIS is a very important picture. 

Really. 

Somewhere in the distant dim, earliest years of my childhood in 1967, my parents took me to see Disney's Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. I grew up on the vinyl record of the music, and the story intrinsically embedded in my mind. Disney of course has long had a process of "Disney-fying" fairy tales, of dumbing down the ancient power of the myths and stories of legend and time...but it was still my first taste of magic and myth. 

I am sure my parents, who thought they had a little girl on their hands - and who was already showing signs of being an inherent "tomboy" and if only any of us had known! - surely thought even then still, that I would be enchanted by the Princess, would want a dress like that, and a fairy tale castle, and to be swept of my feet by a prince into happily ever after. 

Snow White was followed by Sleeping Beauty which I saw at age 9, with its even more compelling music based on Tchaikovsky, and a princess and a prince and a dragon. Of course, by 1967 and Snow White, I was already bound in the leg brace and wheel chair which I wore for 5 years, until I was ten. I have often wondered how much that ordeal masked the transgenderism? How much the differences created by not being able to walk and run and play kept any of us from realizing that there were deeper even more fundamental differences in play underneath the over lay of those years? 

Time rolled on, as it always does. More movies came and went. I grew up. Childhood memories get stored in the back attic of the mind, some of them forever lost, some tucked into trunks and wardrobes to be stumbled over in moments of recall and introspection, at just the right moment....only four years ago did I finally put together all these tangled pieces to realize and understand that I am a transgender. And that created a great deal of heavy thought - still does, but thats another path - when I realized it. How, I wondered, did I make it to my late forties without realizing this about myself!? How long, how deep, how far back did this go? Having always been a "tomboy", I can see back into my childhood, but had it really been there all along. Really? 

And then, browsing through one of my large books on Disney concept art, I came upon THIS picture, by Disney artist, Gustaf Tenggren, one of the animators of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. And the dusty, musty trunk of memory creaked open and a treasure fell out. I remembered clearly, back then, while in the leg brace, setting up the once and only doll I ever played with. It was a "life size" doll, created to be the same height as the little girls it was designed for. It had blonde hair, and blue eyes - eyes that closed when the doll was laid flat and opened, when the doll was raised to a sitting position. With the leg brace on, I was actually a little taller than the doll.

And I remembered...remembered placing the doll on the white sofa in the music room (so named for the giant record player cabinet and my mothers piano), putting on the Snow White record, and with the music playing behind me acting out being - NOT the Princess - but the PRINCE, and bending to wake the Princess doll with a kiss, to take her off into the sunset. I would have been about 7 or 8 years old. And from a myth and tale of the past rose the answer I needed...yes. This truly is real. I have always been the Prince. Then man who longs to marry the Princess, to slay the dragon, and ride the great horse. 

Being Transgender is not a horrible flaw, not a fault or something that is "wrong" with me. It means that in admitting that I am, in being so, in living congruently with that inner man, I am living out the truth of myself - of who and what I am and have always been. In the great myths and legends out of time, the Prince faces challenges, danger, transformation...the Joseph Campbell's Hero's Journey. The Prince does more than just ride up and kiss the slumbering form of the Princess, the Prince pays a price for his journey - he is singed around the edges with the dragon fire, his sword is notched and battered, his body bears scars of thorns and pain. The Prince does not remain a painted one dimensional cell of art work, given movement only by illusion. The Prince becomes a flesh and blood man, individuated and mature in the fires of faery and myth. Perhaps the dragon that transgenders face - any of us, MTFs or FTM's, for after all, Disney didn't get the Princess' journey right either! - is the roaring rage and fire of a culture that will not accept us, damns us, rejects us, denies us. 

In Sleeping Beauty, the Prince is given gifts by the Fairy Godmothers to face the dragon with - one of which is a sword, labeled somewhat predictably the Sword of Truth. But there is power in that, trite though it may seem - because for a transgender the Truth about ourselves becomes our greatest gift, our strongest defense, our weapon against the Dragon. So.... From my distant childhood comes the truth that gave me back myself, gave me my journey, gave me MY truth. And if it is a little romantic perhaps to see oneself in a fairy tale myth, so be it. I may be tattered and battered and still smoking around the edges from the dragon fires...but I remember that little boy of long ago...and that is MY truth! 

Samhain/Halloween 2010 part One - The Third Degree Ceremony and Trick or Treaters....

Happy Samhain!

My Third Degree Ceremony which was scheduled to occur Friday night, on the 29th, actually took place on Saturday night, on the 30th, instead, the day before Halloween. We also had some extra good news which I am saving for a second post, as it deserves it's own moment in the sun. (there were any number of reasons for the change of dates, ranging from fatigue from earlier in the week to crisis in participants lives to questions regarding the weather. Saturday turned out to be a better fit for most. There was also a change in location and available participants. Never refer to Wicca/Paganism as an organized religion! *Rolls eyes! Facepalm*)
So on Saturday afternoon, I went over early to Priestess's house and began the set up process. Part of the 3rd Degree "requirements" asked of me was that I was to set up and run the basics of the circle itself - which is actually something I love doing! I did not get a lot of pictures of the circle site, or the ritual - it was getting dim on into dusk and then once it got rolling, I was too busy to attempt photography. So was everyone else! But I did get a shot of the main Altar, which for this was set up in the North.


I am going to do a quick rundown on what you are seeing here, left to right. At the top left is an Russian style Icon of Christ that my friend Skeptic painted for me, which I treasure very much - it is on my altar as part of my dual path. Behind the Icon, but not visible is my tarrot card deck. Right below it is the cake for cakes and ale and the plate it was going on (Yeah, I know - purchased the cakes and ale - I'm in grad school and Dreamweaver gets up at 3:45 AM to go to work. Cooking just was not on, this week.) Beside the Icon is my stuffed Tigger from childhood, as I said he would be! There is, still working left to right, sort of up and down, a Tiger Eye globe to charge, the stature of Pan with the Otter at his feet, and a pair of stag antlers. (Now, an interesting point about the antlers - they are not from hunting, nor are they sheds. They were picked up from a lightening strike scenario - the burn mark is still on the tip of the left horn where it struck. So this was not a hunting casualty - not even for food, and definitely not for sport, but a natural, if unusual passing.) In the center, between the two white candles (which are there for the Lord and Lady) is the candle for Earth and North....This is the green Candle in the center of the spiral of earth from our garden, with acorns and leaves and pine cones. Directly behind the Green Candle for North, is a small wooden box painted and decorated with sun and moon images - in that box are the ashes of beloved ones who have passed before us - TruthTeller, Jason and MeadowHawk. In front of that are two bowls, one holding sea salt and the other holding water. Up to the right of the white candle for the Goddess is the statue of Gaia, the earth Goddess. We had originally thought to use the Morrigan, one of the warrior goddesses, because I have an affinity for that; however, the statue of Gaia represented better the idea of the Feminine Deity that I serve as a priest. So we went with her instead.
At her feet were flowers and the statue of a white stag. Then there was the goblet for the ale (wine, in this case) and three white candles representing the Trinity of my Christian path. (Normally, I represent the Trinity with a 3 wick candle, with its strong image of 3 in 1, however, the budget was tight...so 3 candles this time.) And at her request, on the far right are Preistess' bells which she rings in circle. On the table in back of the altar, as space was becoming crowded, was my Green Man pumpkin I carved earlier in the week. In the Center of the Circle space we had a fire going in Preistess' copper fire pit going - a Balefire to light our way and keep us warm.



I was wearing my knee high leather boots with bells on them, my green pants with the bells on them, a white poet blouse shirt, and a brown pull over tunic. I had on me my Runes, my athame, and my sword. (we actually did not get a picture of this, however, we took some pictures the following night on Halloween, when I dressed back up in the same outfit for the trick or treaters...so thats where this shot comes from.)
I wish I had a shot of Dreamweaver in her green gown and the cloak with Celtic knotwork...she was stunning! I may get her to dress up again like that for Solstice or something so I can get a picture this time....





Now, I described the Candle for North and Earth - which here is a closer view of it...I did not get pictures of the other three quarters, unfortunately, but here is what I did for them - in the East was a Yellow Candle, with a spray of windblown leaves for the element of Air. I like using something that the wind has blown to represent air, as the movement of the wind is only visible through its effect on things.
For South, Fire, I used a red Candle, which incorporated the element of fire, in itself...also in the south was the Fey Candle, which I will tell more about in a moment. In the West was water, the element actually represented by water, touched with blue (Food coloring) and a blue candle - the water also had a blue floating candle in it which I lit when I called West.

Which brings us to the Fey Candle - Dreamweaver and I both prefer to acknowledge and call the Fey, when we call the Circle. We feel that it is better to invite them as guests to the edge of the Circle, than leave them out and risk their disgruntlement - remember ones Faery Tales and Sleeping Beauty! - we use the poem "The Fairies" by William Allingham as our invocation, most of the time;

The Fairies

Up the airy mountain
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting,
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl's feather!

Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
Of the black mountain-lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs,
All night awake.

High on the hill-top
The old King sits;
He is now so old and grey
He's nigh lost his wits.
With a bridge of white mist
Columbkill he crosses,
On his stately journeys
From Slieveleague to Rosses;
Or going up with music,
On cold starry nights,
To sup with the Queen
Of the gay Northern Lights.

They stole little Bridget
For seven years long;
When she came down again
Her friends were all gone.
They took her lightly back,
Between the night and morrow;
They thought she was fast asleep,
But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since
Deep within the lake,
On a bed of flag leaves,
Watching till she wake.

By the craggy hill-side,
Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn trees

For pleasure here and there.
Is any man so daring
As dig them up in spite?
He shall find their sharpest thorns
In his bed at night.

Up the airy mountain
Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl's feather!

William Allingham (1824-1889)

She and I usually have a good-natured argument going over whether or not to use the entire thing, or a shortened version of it incorporating only four of the six verses...however, in this case we were both in agreement - the whole poem.

So this is what we were looking at as darkness fell, and we moved into the actual ceremony itself....

In the Circle with me were my teacher, Priestess, my beloved Dreamweaver and Mizbehavin', who was in town for several reasons, (Convention, funeral, visiting friends and now my Circle)! Having her there all the way from GA was WONDERFUL! Unfortunately Back Porch Priestess and Hermit were both unable to make it to the ceremony and they were much missed. Mizbehavin' was a welcome friend in the circle, and it was doubly precious that she was there, as changes in the weather, too much time on the road, too many people in over whelming circumstances and an incipiant cold/virus/ allergies all combined with arthritis, to make it difficult for Mizbehavin' to participate. We did our best to make her comfortable, but it was simply an extremely not easy scenario for her. However, she jumped in, helped Dreamweaver with finding some items for the ritual, and gave her all in the ceremony in the ritual drama part. Her being there and a part of it is something I will always treasure! I am so sorry that it was difficult for her and I was very worried for her, though I know she would have said no, if she truly needed to not participate. (then again, she is stubborn, sometimes too much so for her own good! And I wouldn't know anything about that! Pot = Kettle = black!)

So at this point, it was my circle to run, with only a few requirements I needed to perform...One was that I raise a double Circle - a Circle within a Circle. The idea was that I was to step out of the inner Circle before the ritual drama part began, and then be brought back in for that, and yet I would still be within the boundaries of the outer Circle - which is where we invited the Fey to come to, and watch from the outside. (all though I think one or two of the little mischief makers made it in...they usually do. *grin*)
So I raised the first Circle, and then the second, and then began to walk the quarters, calling the Elements...
Now, I run Circle without a script. I do it entirely extemporaneously - and have only used a script once in my life, and that I memorized so that I did not have a piece of paper I had to refer to. So, each of my quarter calls is varied and specifically for the element and quarter I am standing in. I can't necessarily verbatim write what I said, but I can give the gist of it, as these are the quarter calls I have used for a long time....
North: "I call upon the spirits of the North, element of Earth, the good foundation beneath our feet, that we are rooted in and grounded in. From the earth we have the nourishment of the harvest, we are formed of Earth, and to earth we shall return. Be with us now in our Circle this night.....I call upon the Spirits of the East, Element of Air...the wind blows from where we know not, we don't know where it is going, yet we see its presence in the cycle of the weather and the rain, and the falling leaves. Element of Knowledge, may we bend and be flexible with wisdom as we gain life experience...be with us and grant us wisdom in our Circle this night...I call upon the Spirits of the South, Fire...passion, creativity, that which can master us as well as serve us...be with us now in our Circle tonight.,.. I call upon the West, the element of Water, sustainer of life, blessing to the world, the womb of life from whence we come...grant us peace, and fluidity in our Circle tonight." There - thats not EXACTLY what I said, but it's pretty close. Then Dreamweaver called the Fae with the poem, which she generally manages to get the hair on the back of your neck to stand up!
After that, I called the fifth Sacred thing - which is community and communion of the world and ourselves together. Then Priestess called the Lord and Lady, and I called the Creator, three in one - with Christ, the dying, rising God, and the Holy Spirit - which I might add in the original language of the Bible, the Holy Spirit is Feminine!
Then we arrived at the Ritual Drama part of the Ceremony. I was asked to cut a "door" in the inner Circle and step outside and wait to be asked back in. Which Preistess did so, with a knife challenge. The knife challenge is supposedly an old, old part of Wicca, wherein a ritual knife is held to the throat of someone entering the Circle and they are challenged, with ritual responses. (Some say it originates with Gardner's Coven, some say it's ancient from the Burning Times, some point out its similarity to certain rites in the Masons and Rosicrucians that Gardner borrowed from...wherever it came from, it is a part of Modern Wicca at this point.) Many people disapprove of the knife challenge, some vehemently so. Others use it as a standard Circle entry rite. Priestess chose to use it, as she felt it was appropriate for something as deep and solemn as a Third Degree rite of passage. I have encountered it before, so I had no objections to her using it. However, this is where it gets funny....
She steps up to the "door" in the Circle, I step to meet her there and she holds her athame to my throat (in the general vicinity of, that is....she didn't actually touch me with the blade, which was courteous...some people get a little too enthusiastic with that sharp edge!) So, the first question is exactly what I expect and have responded to countless times - "How do you come to this place?" and the answer is " I come in Perfect Love and perfect Trust." Sometimes that's the extant of the questioning, sometimes there are further questions. In this case, Priestess threw me a curve ball - "What is the First Law?"

0.O

Nobody said anything about a pop quiz, let alone one on the freakin' Wiccan Rede (written by Doreen Valiente and, containing some good stuff, some useful stuff and a whole bunch of questionable and down right - not to be disrespectful, but - crap. I have studied the long version of the Rede. And I knew what the answer was...I was just flat footed and suddenly up to my eyeballs in test anxiety. Priestess said later, I looked like a deer in the head lights! I am so glad they were all amused. *snort*
So after a moment of abrupt panic, when I could not have told you my own name, I managed to find my wits and respond - "And it harm none, do as you will - and I emphasize and it harm none, including one's self."
"And the second Law?"
"Every action returns threefold..."
"Do you come of your own will or by the will of another..."
"Yes, I come of my own will."

Once inside the Circle, or back inside the Circle, they draped a sheer black veil over my eyes - the idea was not to blindfold me, or to keep me from seeing, but rather to make what I saw indistinct, to heighten other senses and put me in another world.

And then I began hearing...things.

Really hearing them...

An owl hooting...water trickling and lapping, rain falling....
Dim shapes moved....
And then voices began to speak, talking back and forth over the water and the bird calls.

'I feel strangely tired, Rat,' said the Mole, leaning wearily over his oars as the boat drifted. 'It's being up all night, you'll say, perhaps; but that's nothing. We do as much half the nights of the week, at this time of the year. No; I feel as if I had been through something very exciting and rather terrible, and it was just over; and yet nothing particular has happened.'

(and the voices came from all sides, around me, as each person read parts: individual animals, narration...)

'Or something very surprising and splendid and beautiful,' murmured the Rat, leaning back and closing his eyes. 'I feel just as you do, Mole; simply dead tired, though not body tired. It's lucky we've got the stream with us, to take us home. Isn't it jolly to feel the sun again, soaking into one's bones! And hark to the wind playing in the reeds!'

'It's like music— far away music,' said the Mole nodding drowsily.

'So I was thinking,' murmured the Rat, dreamful and languid. 'Dance-music— the lilting sort that runs on without a stop— but with words in it, too— it passes into words and out of them again— I catch them at intervals— then it is dance-music once more, and then nothing but the reeds' soft thin whispering.'

And then the music started playing...flute music, mournful and happy and sad all at once...
They were recreating the Scene from Wind in the Willows for my ritual drama!!!!
I stood there utterly entranced, laughing with joy and delight...
Not to give it away, but they were pulling off the owl, and the water sounds and the music and so forth and so on, by having them on the laptop and playing the sounds on cue.
Finally, at a key point, they pulled the veil off and I was confronted by what should have been a comical sight...my extremely feminine Dreamweaver with the Green Man mask on and channeling the spirit of Pan from Wind in the Willows. She even had a little stuffed toy otter at her feet! We are a little short on males to take the role, so Dreamweaver took it on, head long. (I can take it as needed from here on out...) And it wasn't comical AT ALL, because she pulled it off. She read the charge to me of being a Priest and asked what sacrifice I brought...
Which I answered as I wrote in my last blog post....Self sacrifice...not in destruction, but in self transcendence, able to give and receive.
This ended with me wearing the Green Man Mask as his Priest. Then at this point, Priestess did a "marrying of our power as priest and priestess together". We received a ring to give the other, and vowed to be each others priest and priestess and it felt more like a handfasting than you could imagine! I'm not sure we're gonna need a wedding after that, just a celebration party for all! The rings were a gift from Priestess and are a simple band of silver, each one of them reading "My life is my message" and we are wearing them on our right hands, with our engagement/commitment rings on our left hands. And they are beautiful and we cannot thank Priestess enough!

We had cakes and ale, and closed the Circle, going back through the steps that brought us in - the Deities, the Fey, the Quarters, until I took down the Circle and ended with this song -

May the Circle be Open,
But unbroken
May the Love of the Goddess
be ever in your heart
Merry meet and merry part
And merry meet again....

OF course, at that point the most paramount need was to get Mizbehavin' back inside, off her feet and out of the night air, before she felt any worse...and I really felt bad about that! I am so, so glad she was able to be there and participate, but I am so sorry it was so difficult for her.
Then Dreamweaver and I sat and talked and just in general it was a beautiful moment - the fire in the fire pit still burning...
we ate some, and drank a little to get back to grounded and centered.
We visited with Priestess and slowly packed up everything. I wound up going back the next day for the table and a few of the items we finally left, out of exhaustion!

How do I feel?
Fantastic! It will remain one of the most remarkable moments of my life, stepping into the Wind in the Willows, having not only my call to priesthood honor and fulfilled, but the fact that I am a priest, masculine, and that was also honored and accepted and blessed.

I can't say at this point I know where this will all end up...
But I do know that I am where I need to be at this moment in my walk, in a metaphysical sense - a priest of my Deity.
Part two is the next night, on Halloween and trick or treating!
Blessed Be!

Monotheism, Polytheism and this Episcopagans Journey, Part Two : The Dark Night of the Soul

Because you come to us by profession of your faith, I ask you therefore, to reject sin, and to profess your faith in Christ Jesus, and to confess the faith of the church, in which you were baptized.
1) Trusting in the gracious mercy of God, do you turn from the ways of sin and renounce evil and its power in the world?
Response: I do.
2) Do you turn to Jesus Christ and accept him as your Lord and Savior, trusting in his grace and love?
Response: I do.
3) Will you be Christ’s faithful disciple, obeying his Word and showing his love?
Response: I will.

4) Do you vow to submit in obedience to the leadership of the church in work and worship in all things, becoming a faithful member of the congregation?

Response:

I do.

With these words, at 8 years of age, I became a "communing" member of my church - able to take communion, to vote in church elections and congregational meetings and be considered a professing Christian and member of the church. I never forgot the moment and the words. They reverberated down my soul, even at age 8 - a solomn vow for all my life ahead of me.

18 years later, these words, these vows cost me more than I could have ever believed of my faith, my sanity and my ability to trust my church, or any church.

Continuing from part one, I graduated my Christian High School, and my very sheltered environment of home and church and school - all enmeshed and one in a doctrinal unity - and went off into the secular wide world of college. My father would have happily sent me to a conservative Christian college, locally or elsewhere, but the funds simply did not allow it. So instead I attended a local secular (by my Christian background's standards) college and fell head long into normalcy - people who had varying views, who drank or smoke or did drugs, who were gay, who were not Christians...things I had never been around in my whole life and had no experience in coexisting with whatsoever. My third roommate, Sceptic - and the one I was to room with the rest of my college years, (and Hi by the way, when you read this!) was atheistic, and talked about Carl Sagan the way I talked about God, at the time. What is interesting is, that she and I became dear friends, and were able to discuss our separate views without rancor or hate. In theory, by my church's standards, we shouldn't have even managed to be in the same room - in reality, love transcended our differences.

But despite my apparent ability to more or less fit in, the fact was that I was woefully unprepared for the reality of life. I trusted. I made friends easily. I viewed everyone through the lens of my own experience - that of my sheltered world, where other than the mindless cruelty of my peers, which eventually faded, people were basically loving and trustworthy. (although I must point out - one of my friends was permanently disillusioned by the vicious behavior of our classmates and to this day views her time with me at the Christian High school as some of the worst years of her life...I cannot say that she is wrong. Kids are brutal in their social milieux and there were no anti-bullying programs back then.)

So, having this gentle view of the world, when I met up with a man who was a predator in the guise of a "friend", I became a victim of sexual assault and violence. I had no map for this. I had nothing that had ever told me how to survive this, despite scriptural platitudes. I sank into a killing depression, and eventually left college, almost unable to function.

I wish to say, here by the way - I have survived this event of more than 25 years ago - survived and gone on to thrive. For any who reads this who has lived through such a situation, rape is a nightmare, but healing is possible - get help...reputable help, particularly survivor support groups with good moderators. There is life on the other side, and it can be a good healthy happy life!

So, I finally went home...found a low paying mall job, and tried to figure out what to do with myself. There was some gentle friction between me and my parents - no fights, but the sudden conjunction of lives that no longer fit. Not only was I radically different from the person who went off to college, but I was also a far more independent person. I could see future conflict arising, so I moved out, acquiring as a roommate, one of my co-workers who also needed to get out. She and I were of an age and similar in thoughts - both artists, both extroverted, both needing to get out of our parents shadows and issues. "Lynn" and I became fast friends, and fairly inseparable. She is the first person I ever told of the assault, she in turn shared some of her past with me (her story is not mine to tell, except where it intersects with my story.)

And then the unthinkable, the unbelievable, the unmentionable happened...she and I became lovers. The situation was deeply closeted. I was torn between being happier than I had ever been in my life, and totally horrified - convinced that I was going to hell, that as a Christian, I had committed the most heinous sin imaginable - that should it be known, I would never ever again be accepted by my faith community. (there was some truth to that last, as the distant future proved). I confided my situation to one friend - Starchild - the only one I trusted enough to tell for certain reasons, and when she gently suggested I might be gay, I metaphorically screamed denial and ran the other way. It. Could. Not. Be. And yet, there is no doubt I was head over heels in love with Lynn, would have spent the rest of my life with her, if events had turned out differently.

But Lynn, however much she loved me, and for all our loving intimacy, was NOT gay. She shortly met a man whom she fell in love with, and in the callousness of youth and disregard, took him to our bed. I walked in on them. This scenario eventually ended with her moving out and marrying him. It also led me, blind with depression and self hate, to attempted suicide. I moved into a small single rental afterwards, explained away the attempt at suicide as a result of the rape, and not the despair of finding my lover in a man's arms in our bed, and lamely tried to get my life going once again. (I won't say that the rape had nothing to do with the suicide...I was a freaking mess by then all the way across the board. But it was a lovely red herring to blame, rather than deal with the hint of the possibility that I was gay!)

Some attempts at finding help in the therapy and psychiatric communities turned out to be useless...at the time, rape was considered to be something that you could get over in about 6 weeks, rather than the life long damaging event it actually is. And I had full blown Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (still do, though largely in abeyance.). The one counselor, who almost put her finger on the pin on the map and caught the possible significance of Lynn in my life, I ran from as fast as I could as my religious driven denial continued. I could not be, simply was not and never would, be gay. I was a Christian! This was wrong! It was sin...said so right there in the Bible. Therefore, I was not - WOULD not be - gay. God, how obtuse can you get! It's almost funny now....almost. Because what happened next nearly finished me.

I had reconnected with my church since crawling home from college, and moving out on my own after Lynn's betrayal - I rejoined the choir, and became a lay worker with the youth ministry. I was starting to find that I might survive and even be happy, despite nightmares and PTSD symptoms. I missed Lynn like I might miss oxygen, but of course I had renounced all that evil, and therefore could not acknowledge that. So I threw myself into my old haven, the church. And eventually Had A Thought...of course! The church is here to help you, you idiot! Go to them about the assault, let them counsel you. So I did.

I went to my minister, who was very gentle, and sad about what had happened to me, and paired me off with a woman in the church for counseling, whose heart was in the right place, but had NO clue what to do with me. It was a good Bible study, but it did not remotely touch on the issues I was struggling with. And then came the final betrayal...

I was working with the youth group under the leadership of the youth minister. While meeting with him to go over lesson plans shortly after I had confided in deepest confidence my past with the senior minister...I was pulled out and called into the other office. There the senior minister bluntly, in a matter of about 2 sentences informed me that because of the rape, the session had decided it was not appropriate that I be working with the youth group, and I would have to withdraw from the youth ministry.

My entire world crumbled and imploded. I sat there, struggling to speak, to say anything, all my victim's self blame and horror rising to choke my throat. And he just sat there and look at me and waited in patient silence for my utter capitulation. I finally got out a strangled "Can we talk about this, do I have any choices?" No, I did not, he informed me. There was no discussion possible. I was officially kicked out of the program. The compassion that had originally been in him was simply not there. He was cold, distant and removed.

And all I could think, all I could manage to hear in my mind was my own 8 year old voice, 18 years ago saying "I do." to the question laid before me - "Do you vow to submit in obedience to the leadership of the church in work and worship in all things, becoming a faithful member of the congregation?" I had promised. I had given my vow, my oath...my word, my honor. Utter obedience...

In the eternity of those few seconds, I swallowed agony and submitted.

Very well, I said.

They had not told the youth minister, so I had to go back down the hall, and tell him that I was not allowed to work with the youth any more. I left my carefully researched lesson plans at his feet metaphorically, and walked out blind with tears into the sunshine, feeling that somehow, I was the evil one for being raped, that somehow I must have asked for it, that I was at fault...the trap that awaits most victims, and I had just begun to believe in myself again.

In author Lois MacMaster Bujold's works, is a point made in the words of her main character; "The problem with death before dishonor is a survivors problem. If you live long enough, the world sorts itself into two categories - the dead and the fore sworn."

I was not fore sworn....but I was certainly for all purposes walking dead. I spent the next 10 years, still in this church, faithfully singing in the choir...and simply not engaging with much of anything else, or trusting another living soul. I was totally severed from my community, and they never even noticed. I was obviously up there singing, wasn't I?

My community and I were severed, and I had simply no where to turn that I trusted any more.

And thus my relationship with Organized Conservative Christianity was shattered, though it took another decade and many changes in my life, before the final amputation occurred.

The Fool had fallen off the precipice at last...

More to come....

Monotheism, Polytheism and this Episcopagan's Journey, Part 0ne

I titled this blog "Walking the Labyrinth" for a reason...my life has been a journey that has wrapped around in what seems to be an infinite variety of pattern. I return always to similar places - and yet they are different every time. Unending changes, and unending similarities.

I grew up in a Presbyterian church in the deep southern Bible belt. I was baptized as an infant, and my parents and my church saw to it that I absorbed traditional Christianity like a sponge from the cradle. I had a difficult childhood medically - I spent 4 - 5 years on a leg brace and crutches, from about age 5 1/2 to about age 10. That journey including things like traction, a body cast, and lengthy hospital stay. This was interpreted to me as temporary by the medical community - every month, every year was the last one I would have to spend in this state. The original prognosis was 6 months to a year and then I would be walking. My peers were of course unwittingly cruel - I was different, Other and alien. My simple faith as a child was my comfort, as was my family...and books.

Many, many books. I read everything I could get my hands on - it was how I experienced the world. And perhaps that is the earliest clue as to why my horizons are so much broader than the narrow path my church laid out for me. One book I read very early on as a child trapped in my medical bonds was "Wind in the Willows", Kenneth Grahame's gentle anthropomorphic adventures of Rat, Mole, Badger and Toad. I was deeply affected by one chapter in particular - Chapter Seven - "Piper at the Gates of Dawn". In this chapter a small creature goes missing from it's family and Rat and Mole join the search...in the dawn, they discover the missing baby otter sleeping, protected and safe at the feet of the god Pan, or the Green Man, who is implied to be the god of the woodland creatures. They see him briefly and then are blinded by the rising sun and he is gone, leaving behind the small otter. All that remains are fragments of song, imperfectly heard and soon forgotten:

Lest the awe should dwell

And turn your frolic to fret

You shall look on my power at the helping hour

But then you shall forget!

forget, forget

Lest limbs be reddened and rent

I spring the trap that is set

As I loose the snare you may
glimpse me there

For surely you shall forget!

Helper and healer, I cheer

Small waifs in the woodland wet

Strays I find in it, wounds I bind in it

Bidding them all forget!

I remember a thrill going through me...as a small child, I had been taught that God was to be feared with awe, and that Jesus was our protector and friend...and here were echoes of that, deity in different form! I never forgot, ever after, that chapter and it's affect on me.

I grew...I was pronounced "cured" - though I can truly give the medical establishment no credit for my freedom when it came at last. I gained my feet and supposedly those years were past and gone. But of course I was marked by them forever. My parents kept me in private Christian schools from Kindergarten through the 12th grade. In my childhood, during those difficult early years, they placed me in a Lutheran church school for Kindergarten through sixth grade. This became a quiet source of gentle confusion for me - the differences between Lutheran and Presbyterian were profound. So at school we had the Advent Candles and the Liturgical Seasons, and said the Lords prayer differently, while at church such things were frowned upon as being inappropriate or unacceptable. I kept my confusion in my heart - truth be told I LOVED the Liturgy, and the great Seasonal wheel of the Church year, and missed them when I was at church. Another mile marker on this journey...

I grew up, officially joined my church at age 8 which was an appalling young age for so great and heavy a vow. In my early teens my church split off from the parent denomination, becoming one of several "reformed Presbyterian" denominations. I, knowing only what I was told, was taught that the original denomination had grown corrupt and was misinterpreting the Bible and other horrible things. Dutifully in my parents wake, I cast my vote and so became a charter member of the new reformed Presbyterian church. At first, the changes were invisible - we stayed in our great almost 100 year old sanctuary, the minister remained the same, the sermons sounded no different. I was an innocent who trusted...and who loved God with all my heart. I left grammar school and moved on to 7th through 12th grades at a Presbyterian Church school of the same denomination as my church. Needless to say my innocent faith soon became indoctrination - the world was an evil place, Christians were to be soldiers who conquered in Christs name and the battle was for souls. I became that most obnoxious and earnest of all creatures - a devout evangelistic teenager who had swallowed down whole the militant language of my church's prime agenda.

And yet, there was also an echo that remained with me in my heart - from the forbidden Liturgy of my childhood, the books that I read and never discussed with anyone, the flare of recognition of a God of Love and not of Hate in certain scriptures, that was slowly being buried under the rise of moral conservatism's darkest incarnation. I could still hear that Horn blowing at the Gates of Dawn...I was happiest focused on the Christ of the Gospels, on his actions and his life, rather than on these knotty thorny esoteric theological arguments. I yearned for a faith that DID, rather than just sat there in it's pew. The hint of the dichotomy that was to tear me apart later was already rising - how do you square a God of Love with the Hate and dishonesty of His people? I some how absorbed the idea that God was love, that worship was doing rather than sitting and being spoon-fed, that Christians were a Priesthood of Believers and God was immanent and indwelling. In short, buried under the bitter load of dry conservatism, I was a budding Christian Mystic, in a church that damned any form of mysticism as of Satanic lies.

Meanwhile the Church I was a member of was slowly stifling the life out of it's people - worship becoming regimented, "Pagan" celebrations of the years turning questioned, women turned out of any role other than baby sitters and cooks and cleaners within the church walls. The Priesthood of all believers became suppressed, forgotten, and the male ministers and session gained in power. Contemporary music was of the Devil - I had acquired the skills of playing the guitar for use in the church only to find guitars forbidden. My greatest joy was to be in the Church Choir and to sing - an active living act of worship that, little did I realize until much later was all that was sustaining me and holding me to the church.

All of this, mind you, was deeply subliminal, fragmentary, deep withing my heart, and even I didn't consciously realize it. Outwardly, conscientiously, I was what I appeared to be - a devout conservative thoroughly indoctrinated young Christian. But the distant sound of the Piper did come to me now and then and at times I was uneasy for no reason I could fathom. It is a journey that is only clear in retrospect, with now obvious twists and turns.

Little did I know that I was ripe for a crisis of faith, for a collision with truths greater than the narrow interpretations doled out to me, and I didn't even know I was the Fool on the edge of a fall off the precipice in a much greater journey

And the fall came...

First Degree Initiation; Part One

Earlier on this blog I posted a series of dreams that I had that reflected strongly my call to pursue initiation in my Wiccan Pagan community. (see tags : dreams, initiation) About two weeks ago I received my First Degree. I will be posting some blog posts on the Initiation and how it went, what it has meant, and what comes next...So this particular post might aptly be sub-titled:

Part One: "In Which We survive planning the blasted thing!"

I want to give an account of some of the craziness leading up to the initiation itself. There is a degree of humor here as well...it was a little nuts in places! Perhaps it will give hope to others on this path who are dealing with the process...that even if it looks insane, not to give up.

Three people were involved in my degree process...Dreamweaver (of course), my friend Priestess - who was present at all of Dreamweaver's degrees, a nice piece of continuity, and she ran the Circle - and my friend Hermit - third degrees all in their spheres and traditions.

I had let be known that, while my first degree was vastly important to me, going all out for "high church" ceremony was not expected (the term "high church" being a bit of a joke on my being Episcopalian as well!). I know how tight every one's time and finances are - Hermit literally has no circle garb at all. For her comfort level alone I would have been perfectly content to have stood there in my blue jeans. However, Priestess has a life time of robes and circle garb in her closets - Hermit was promptly be-robed the second she walked in the door!

There were funny moments - originally, Priestess had called me the week before on Thursday, and asked when did I want to do my First, as she was completely satisfied with work I have put into a long preparatory past heading for the moment. My schedule being such that it is - insane, particularly if you factor in Dreamweavers schedule (goes to work a 4 am and it goes down hill from there!) I thought about the way the month was to play out and said, OK....Saturday. She said "Great!" So we talked a minute about some nuts and bolts type scheduling and it suddenly became evident she was thinking "Saturday a week from now". I broke in and said, "No, no, THIS Saturday."

(Long extended silence on the phone)
Very small voice from my Priestess "Why do you hate me?"

After some back and forth on dates and schedules, at that moment we went ahead and decided for THAT Saturday, 2 days away. Priestess now in full blown panic mode. Then we started discussing some points of the ritual. She trotted out a few things she was going to throw in. And I balked.

Me: "Absolutely not!"
Priestess: "But..."
Me: "NO!"

(Irresistible force meets immovable object - tickets on sale, one day only, get your popcorn here.)

She wanted to include my being bound and blindfolded for the ritual - which I was opposed to.
After a fair go around on the subject, we finally got out of head butting mode - friendly, it wasn't a fight - and calmed down enough to discuss it. After hearing her reasons for including certain things, and after she heard my reasons for NOT including them, she actually dropped those elements from the ritual. She viewed this as symbolizing my leaving the past behind, whereas I felt that since I was not leaving my "past" behind, but was to continue walking a dual spiritual path (Episcopalian/Wiccan) that the binding and the blindfold were not appropriate for me. So...that got resolved all right!

Huge sigh of relief on my part...and then was more than a little guilty. One simply does not dictate to ones Priestess. It's not respectful! I was embarrassed. On the other hand, said elements ran counter to what I am, and truly did not fit, which to her everlasting credit, once we got out of the "But-NO!" mode, she instantly saw what I was saying and agreed with me. I did apologize to her very humbly.
We got some ground work laid and got off the phone.

20 minutes later my phone rang again and it was Hermit. I answered and was IMMEDIATELY greeted with - not "Hello..." or "Priestess called and told me about your degree ceremony and asked me to participate..." No, I hit answer on my phone and started to say, "Hi, Hermit!" when I was blasted off my seat by:

"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND!?!?"

Picking up my now slagged and melted phone I tentatively and intelligently said "Um...what?"
Turned out there was no way Hermit could make it on such short notice. Period. After calming her down, and texting Dreamweaver as I talked to see if our schedule could be re-manuvered - it could - I caved in and set it for the less convenient date of the following Saturday. I then spend the next few hours trying to get Priestess back on the phone before she stroked out planning everything out for 2 days later to let her know I was bowing to the inevitable and agreeing to Saturday a week away. It turned out to truly be easier on all involved, despite the scramble on our schedule, so I am glad I did so. I do occasionally let my enthusiasm get the better of me. And there is another factor involved...most Circles, even big ones, that I have been in have been unscripted, or loosely scripted, which has worked very well. Priestess profoundly prefers a tightly scripted Circle with everything written out, for even small Circles. You can see how we wound up tangled! For that matter, as good as I am on my feet in circle without a script, *I* would probably script a Degree Ceremony of any level to some degree. So...giving her the week was a lot kinder. Altho, once they forgave me for raising their blood pressures so profoundly, it has been a point of high hilarity among us. So that all worked out OK in the end.
Truthfully, giving myself the week to meditate, think, journal and prepare was very necessary, and I would have shorted myself profoundly if I had insisted on the first date.

I was required to find 4 things to bring to the circle that for me represented, symbolically, the four elements. I found over the course of the week a beautiful river stone that had 3 striated lines in it that represented earth. For air, I chose a huge red tailed hawk feather. (for about a week on my college campus this summer I kept finding these enormous hawk feathers, in roughly the same spot. Do not know why...hoping nothing happened to the hawk, but I kept having this mental image of a naked hawk very embarrassed somewhere! Hope they were simply sheds!) For water, I went through the beach shells we have collected, mostly off the coast of N.C. and found a beautiful spiral shaped shell! And for fire, I chose a piece of obsidian - the molten glass cooled from volcanic lava. I was very excited about this.

Then the next funny conversation occurred between me and my priestess.
Priestess: "Anything that you want to put on the altar that has meaning for you, particularly circle tools, please bring them. Do you have an athame, by the way?"
Me: "Oh yes, white handled deers antlered for the hilt....um, should I bring the swords?"
(Long silence.)
Priestess: "Well, you shouldn't be using swords."
Me, suddenly feeling very nervous: "Um...but I already have..."
Priestess: "When have you used...you have two!? Are they consecrated?"
Me in a small voice: "Uh...yeah...the big one I used in the warlocking you ran that I backed you and Truthteller up in. Dedicated that one for that purpose, and then cleared it completely, re-dedicated it, and have used it ever since in circles. And I used it to ward with in your Croning..."
Priestess: "Oh...I remember that sword...what about the other one?"
Me: (in an even smaller voice) "The other one is the one I used when I Priest-ed the Winter Solstice Circle with Dreamweaver as Priestess, for Star's grove...you were there...I drew the Circle with it."
Priestess: "Oh. Um. Yes, you did, didn't you...(another long silence, deep sigh) Ok, bring the swords!"

I think, at this point I am lucky my priestess did not throw me back for being a big pain in the ass, however unintentional! *head desk thud* (note: in many traditions, swords are only allowed to 3rd Degrees. Part of the situation is that I have been functioning as a 3rd Degree Priest for a number of years, without the Degree ceremonies. Hence why I need to go ahead and get this done!)

The next interesting moment was the conversation on my dual path. I am Christian and Wiccan - Episcopagan as we term it. My Priest at my Episcopal church knows this. It was discussed before I was confirmed as an Episcopalian, and Father M. has been wonderful about acknowledging that duality, even at times referring to Deity as Goddess from the pulpit! Dreamweaver wears her pentacle to take communion. And in the pagan community I have come up through, my fellow Pagans/Wiccans have made likewise efforts to include Christianity in Circles when I have been present. I felt strongly that both my paths should be acknowledged. It's important to me. So...we wound up having a triple wick candle on the altar to represent my Christian path, and I did the invocation for that as a part of the Circle.

The point where my poor Priestess finally hit her "Absolutely NOT!" moment was the inclusion of a Fey call. The group I was in some years back that I circled with included a candle for the Fey, and an Invitation to them in Circle. The premise is that they ARE going to show up...freaking invite them! The fairytale of Sleeping Beauty ( and no, not the Disney Version, although it has the same point to it!) has a good point. Don't stint on inviting the Fey. You can set a Circle to deal with both the Seelie and the Unseelie, but but not inviting them can be...um...asking for the unpredictable! (remind me to post the tale of when Dreamweaver and I got Pixie led all the way off our map after a big Gathering....we wound up in an all night McDonalds at about 3 am with our useless map spread out on the counter, beginning with the words, "Ok, what STATE are we in?" We finally got home about 5:00 am. LOL! Hear my lesson - don't stint the Fey folk! ) This is not a part of Priestess' traditions though and frankly, as she told me, completely weirded her out every time we used to do it. We worked out a compromise - the Fey had an offering placed out side the house for them, and we did not do a Circle fey call. My priestess graciously gave in on what was weirding me out...my turn!

The final visit from the screw up Fairy came the day of the ceremony (hastily moved inside to Priestess's gorgeous altar room due to pouring rain) when I realized that at the last moment, before leaving to go over there....you guessed it. We had forgotten something. (this is not surprising - with our combined insane schedules, I have days when I have to check what year it is!) And of course the forgotten item was the Initiatory Cord for my Degree - a Green Cord. In the pouring rain I slogged off to a hobby store (after Walmart failed to have the blasted things). My intention was to get all 3 Cords at once so that as I go through my other 2 initiations, the cords will match in type, size and length and color shade.

Well...the hobby store had only one cord, that fit what I needed and it was green, but they had nothing else I could pick up for the other two. I grabbed it anyway, now getting close to being late. Please understand - I am not known for running on Pagan standard time and tend to be fairly punctual. Got back on the road in the downpour, wishing that I had a small boat as other cars bobbed by me in the next lane! And of course, I had chosen the hobby store above Priestess house with the idea that it would save time and I would just drop down the road and over to where I was heading.

I underestimated the level of traffic snarls and sheer weight of metal sitting bumper to bumper between the rows of strip malls and shops. This is September. NOT December! It's pouring rain! There is an economic down turn - you people aren't supposed to have money to shop! Where did you all come from!? After inching my way down the road to the next traffic light for awhile, I realized I was now officially late to my own First Degree Ceremony...

Cell phone communication occurred, several times. Everyone else was already there. I inched another fifty feet. It is still pouring rain. The nearest car has hoisted a small sail and a school of fish swam by, as the light changed....repeat for several miles of stop and go traffic....

I did eventually get there...soaking wet and looking like a drowned red-headed rat.

And that will be the subject of the next series of posts.

Seriously, anyone out there who is getting their degrees, or joining the (fill in the blank) or any life transitioning event - don't let craziness and snafu's get you down. You will survive it - and the joy is worth every minute!

Dreams, Initiation and Where do I go from here...

Some time ago, I had a series of dreams that tied profoundly to the connection of my life to Divinity. They were very Pagan in imagery and in form, but with subtle Christian underlay. To read through these dreams, which should be done before reading this post, check the tags "dreams, initiation". These dreams feel like a key to open a major part of my life - one that I have been moving towards for years.
Basically, there has been a growing call on my life towards initiation in the Wiccan/Pagan path that I have been walking, one that is dual with and inextricably wound around with my Christian faith as well. My pagan friends refer to the call to initiation not quite jokingly as getting "hit with the Oak branch"; as in Divinity swatting you upside the head and saying, pay attention, this is what you are called to do! It's been pretty apparent through many things, but in particular these dreams that I have been smacked pretty hard. And this is not something that you ignore forever.
Since having these dreams, I have spoken with several members of my community - the Back Porch Priestess, Dreamweaver, Priestess, and my Wiccaplace community. A point that has been raised from several different directions and in several different ways is "What is my connection to the Goddess as a woman who is going to initiate as Priest of the God?" In the third dream there is a moment of connection to the Goddess, the Divine Feminine, but the direct connection has been with Deity as Male, as the Lord of the Forest, ,Cernunnos and even beyond that, with Christ, who embodies this for me. But if I - as an androgynous transgender male and a lesbian butch female initiate in a dual God/Goddess tradition, that brings me to this question: what is my relationship as a man called to Priesthood with the Female Divinity, to the Goddess?
I was raised in the Christian faith. I still am a Christian. For me the two paths - Wicca and Christian are intertwined and bound inextricably together. So I did start out with the concept of Divinity as male, certainly, growing up in the church. But it did not take very long - somewhere in my early teenage years to come upon the idea -independently, on my own - that "God" was simply far bigger than anything that human words could describe. That even in "inspired" scripture, the idea of God the Father was simply a verbal picture that struggled to try to communicate relationship with God. So my image of Divinity grew beyond the idea of an "old man with a beard" that was pictured in art and in books for children. And the more I read, over the years, the more I saw in the Bible that there were as many feminine images contained of Deity as there were male. I was given Starhawk's "The Spiral Dance" when I was in college and was confronted there with the idea of Feminine Divinity that went far beyond the glimpses I had caught...but those glimpses. those sightings had already opened my mind and heart to a much larger world of possibility than anything I would find in the narrow barriers of the conservative church I grew up in. And I kept reading. History. Archeology. Art. And the more I read over the years the more it seemed as though the hint of the Goddess I saw shining through the pages of the Bible - censored, edited out and all but obliterated grew more and more evident.
Another very important book in this literary quest of mine was Riane Eisler's "The Chalice and the Blade", which looked at the rise of patriarchy, the existence of cultures that were gylanic and egalitarian that predated patriarchy and the existence of the Goddess as the Imprimatur of these cultures. Merlin Stone's book, "When God was a Woman" was another milestone, seriously delving into archeology and looking at the evidence and the record without the lens of patriarchal narratives blinding the interpretation. Finally, as I delved into the Bible itself, and into the original Greek, Hebrew, Aramaic and Chaldean - clumsily, as I do not remotely claim scholarship in those languages! - the very words themselves revealed Feminine Divinity - El Shaddai, with its link to the image of a woman's breast, Hokmah in the Hebrew and Sophia in the Greek - the Goddess of Wisdom who has existed from the beginning of time with God. The very Holy Spirit herself in the New Testament, carefully kept Gender neutral in the churches, scarcely more than a blind force that ministers barely speak of - the Greek for the Holy Spirit is Feminine Gendered!

Is there, in the Bible, a lost duality - a Goddess denied? Or does "God" simply transcend male or female - having aspects of both. In the book of Genesis, in the earliest version of the Creation story in chapter one, God is mention in the plural - "let us make man in our image", and goes on to say that we were created "male and female"...the implications are that God is perhaps more than "one" and that male and female are both found in divinity if they are found in human beings. The Spirit of God is said to move upon the face of the chaos before Creation, calling forth light and order - the Creatrix, the Feminine that is with Creator since before the foundation of the world?
She is named Hokmah, Sophia, Spirit...she is also named Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Innana, Freyja, Shakti, Hathor, Rhiannon, Rhea, Maat, the Morrigan...the list goes on. And I cannot doubt her existence. her duality, her individuality that is just as much a part of the One Who is the ground of All Being as "God", the male image of God is.

So, as I follow this path through to initiation, I will be becoming a Priest in this tradition. A Priest...not a Priestess. It is very clear from my dreams that this is how this is expressed in my life, as a male Priest for the God. So what is the relationship of a Wiccan Priest to the Goddess?

What is my relationship personally to the Goddess in the role of a Male Priest? To the Divine as Feminine? As I said above, my identity - or perhaps, identities - are as a transman and as a butch lesbian. This is significant and I need to speak of it for a minute, to be able to continue these thoughts. FtMs (Female to Male) transgenders generally are men in women's bodies. That takes a moment to think about. In reading and researching the subject, one of the most consistent points that is brought up is that FtMs are not comfortable in the lesbian community. Outer form to the contrary, they ARE NOT WOMEN. Many of them pass through the GLBT community on their way to transitioning. And they are poor fits as Lesbians. Lesbians, even butch ones, are NOT men. So this is something that makes me very different, in that I do feel comfortable as a lesbian woman. Its why I claim androgyny. claim both. (and anybody who wants to discuss labels, labeling and post modern narratives, go read my blog post "Pardon Me: Your Umbrella is Leaking- A Transgender Moment in Time", tagged "Transgender" and comment there!) There have been some who can only see the male in me, and there is some argument for that - it is my male "persona" that I am most comfortable with...I dress and present as male. I feel about a foot taller in my head than I actually am, and I can fool people very well when I cross dress in male drag. I am totally uncomfortable presenting as female - wearing feminine clothes absolutely makes me miserable. So it is not surprising that most people at a glance see the guy that I am and not the woman as well. My friends who are close to me know the woman...that I am tender, intuitive, verbally oriented and expressive in ways that are distinctly feminine. In fact, Hokmah, the Goddess of Wisom contained within the Old Testament is probably the aspect of the Goddess that finds expression in that intuition in me. Put a newborn baby in my arms and I turn very maternal. To absolute mush, actually. When I lived attempting to conform totally to the feminine image that society and the church require of me in my conservative upbringing, I was desperately unhappy...I cannot express that enough. But to see me as only male, to transition to one in totality, would be I feel, to lose and deny the feminine that is equally as important within me even though it may not be as evident.So, the ways I might relate to the Goddess as a woman are there...as a mother in maternal feeling, in tenderness, in intuition. And there are plenty of strong warrior Goddesses that I relate to very well as a butch lesbian. Warrior Goddesses rock! But I will be initiating as the male transman - as a Priest. How does the male priest relate to the Goddess? Perhaps...perhaps as one who would serve her - not in a servile way, but in one who takes an oath - archaic language here, but it fits - of fealty, in loyalty, love and duty. A knight with her favor on my sleeve. Perhaps as the lover in the great rite - certainly if the God and Goddess are in all of us - and they are , see Carl Jung and the anima/animus that all people carry - as my Dreamweavers lover I am God to her Goddess, Lord to her Lady. Perhaps - and this is a new thought for me - as a Priest who can minister as one who knows both sides because of my unique juxtapositions of identities and how they are formed. I have already Priested several Circles as a Priest, to Dreamweavers Priestess. There is a deep feeling of reverence and connection to the Goddess in those moments, to the divinity that exists in every woman that I respond to as a male. The Winter Solstice Circle we ran together was a joy, in every way, for me...it honored the male sense I have of myself, it honored the connection I have to the God, the desire I have to minister - to be a conduit for the sacred into this world. And it was a joy to be in the presence of Female Divinity, the Goddess, without Her being denied, bound, repressed or diminished. It felt balanced, whole to be in that position, Priest to Priestess, in the Presence of Deity as both Male and Female. Perhaps the role I feel as a male Priest of the God is to be a part of that balance, that other half...a balance I experience as a whole daily as one whose innerself contains male and female.

As a Priest - with definitely a quirky take on things! - I wish to serve the Goddess as any man wishes to serve the divine within any woman...with love, honor, loyalty and courage. And perhaps that is the best way to express it in the end. I am sure that this is not the last post I will make on the subject, as I begin to move towards initiation and have conversations with my community and my Priestess and with Dreamweaver. But this is a good place to start.

Blessed Be!

Thoughts on the third Dream

So...the third dream/vision came. And it was every bit as powerful and as detailed and earth-shaking as I thought it would be. It's taken me a few days to think about it. I still don't totally understand it all, though some parts of it are very clear.

And some of my friends and community have asked some questions about it and made some good observations about it. And I want to think about those things too.

The point where I reached the bottom and stumbled of the stairs and then began moving forward - forward is questionable, in that darkness; began journeying. In the darkness we are all to inclined to go in circles as anyone who has ever walked in darkness can tell you - I am suddenly confronted with that wall of fire. Hermit raised a good question - why was my immediate response to back up and charge through it? Most people would have tried to go around it, tried to avoid it - tried anything but going into it. (as a gamer, in a role play game, one always explores options! LOL! I did not react as a gamer in this, but as one in a vision, I guess!) My thoughts on this are one - I had already, in the Abyss dream where I began this journey, been told that I needed to go this route and that my way led through it and out the other side. (“You may choose not to go today, but you may not avoid this journey forever. It is your road. You must go naked and alone. You will cross and come back into the light. But, you cannot not go. Eventually you must go into the dark.” ) The implications there are that there is no side trip, no multiple options. To come out the other side, the way must be ahead, the journey must move forward. So perhaps I knew on a certain level that to "cross" meant THROUGH - out the other side of the fire. Also, the implications of fire here is that of a test. Not a test of avoidance, but of faith. And fire in this to me was one of the elements, even here at that frightening moment. We all fear fire. Fire is a metaphor for what we endure - how many songs or poems or sayings have used fire in this way - "face the fire" "go through the fire" "trial by fire". A priest does not avoid the "fire", his own or someone else's that he must journey with. My life has already included many "trials by fire" - death of loved ones, loss of relationships, changes, crisises of faith, medical difficulties. Fire and I are old friends. So a leap into the fire seemed to me the way through, taking the responsibility to face it.

Hermit also understands dreams in terms of the past. When she can't "see" an interpretation, or a meaning, it can mean that it speaks of the future. When she "followed" what she was reading of my dream, at the point of the fire, her connection to interpretation stopped there. Dreams can have many layers - this dream is clearly initiatory in the here and now - but does it speak of the future as well? It certainly could. I have no doubt that I am not done with "fire" in this life. Also, it could be that this intense dream was meant for me to walk alone. Not a comforting thought. But perhaps a true one.

There is not much surprise that beyond the fire the rest of the four elements - air in the form of the wind, water in the wild rain storm, and earth in the form of the climb up the side of the hill in the dark - that all of them come to me, that I encounter all of them extremely personally and powerfully. Earth, air, fire and water.... the four sacred things. Alchemist in centuries before, not knowing of the molecular structures of things, took these as the building blocks of the world. In a way that is not wrong, because while with modern science we may delve down to the smallest particle of creation (and there may be things smaller yet - new physics will warp your mind), it is through these four things that we experience the world still. Air we must breathe, water we must have to live, fire that we use and transform things with, earth our foundation that we stand upon and build with. And since those centuries ago, the four elements have become symbolic too, of our lives, our temperaments, our connectiveness, our affinities, our emotions. They are descriptive of us - we say someone has a "fiery" temper, or is "solid as a rock" or "air - headed" and so on. And however small those atoms and molecules and subatomic particles are...when they are added together, they become once again, the four elements. So it's not surprising that they have come to have so much symbolism in so many philosophies and faiths. So it does not surprise me that these symbols came to me in this journey.

I state in the dream itself, that I have the realization, even as I am in it, that what I am experiencing is being built out of my own symbology and subconscious imagery: "(I know on some level that where ever I am, what I am experiencing is also called forth out of my deepest symbols in my subconscious, however real my aches and scrapes and burns may feel.)" This is true of any dream for any person - whether or not it is a "process" dream with no great deep meaning, or a dream that is pulling from our unconcsious intuitions, or a "Lucid Dream" where things in our subconscious become visionary. A psychologist who wanted to tear it apart and find where each separate element comes from - and debunk the metaphysical - could do so. I can myself, track where things come from. But the fact that what I experienced builds on what exists in my subconscious or conscious mind does not negate the importance of what all these things combined become - something greater than the sum of it's parts. Dreams HAVE to build out of what lies within us and our sum total of experiences - that's where they come from - from within us. I feel a great connection to the four elements and what they mean. So yes, they have become a part of this dream journey. That's important.

Somewhere in the dark I come to a great rise of land - a hill is too small a word. And on top is a great stone ringed circle - a henge of tors. That also has great meaning for me and always has, since I first heard of the great stone rings in Europe, got my first look at a picture of Stonehenge. Such places are sacred ground to me - to find this in the center is to see where my heart would lead me. Divinity speaks through that which is sacred to us. But - oh the stars! I feel as though I have been granted a wish I have had my whole life long - to see the night sky as my ancestors saw it, without the haze of "civilization" dimming it, darkening it. And I have had these dreams very shortly after the Summer Solstice - but the sky I saw IN the dream was the winter sky, clearly. In the dream it had become cold enough to see my breath, and the constellations I saw were the great winter stars of the northern sky when the sun retreats, Orion in particular. Does that have some meaning, beyond that it is my favorite time of year, beyond that Orion is my favorite constellation? Maybe - Divinity came to set me on this vision road in the form of the Horned Lord. And winter is His time. And I have always had incredible affinity for the legends and stories and myths of the Lord of the Forrest; even as a small child, without knowing myself very well, my favorite chapter in "The Wind in the Willows" was "Piper at the Gates of Dawn". Why should I be so drawn to that, even then? So perhaps in this vision I was there in His time and hour, even though the outer world that slept around me was in summer and the time of the Goddess. As a woman, in theory, my connection should be in pagan terms, to the Goddess. But it has instead always been to the God. Knowing that I am GID, this now makes a whole lot of sense! For me to feel a call to be a Priest, rather than a Priestess fits the inner truths of myself, irregardless of outward form. It even shows in my connection to Christ as a Christian.

The Labyrinth is perhaps the least suprising of all the images I encounter on the path. That has become one of the central symbols of my life, ever since I set my foot on one and walked it in the plain light of day in 1998. It has come to mean all of life's journey, both real and metaphysical for me. This blog is named after the Labyrinth and the idea of walking one. So in the vast center of the stone circle, I come to the great Labyrinth that perhaps all this symbology and the real ones of earth and stone lead back to and reflect. On the walk out of the Labyrinth towards the end, I see what I have always seen when I have walked one, or drawn one, or studied one - that as one walks the beginning track in that leads all over the place away from the center, the path DIRECTLY into the center lies exactly next to the beginning. And as one comes out, reversing the journey in our exact footsteps, the path to the center now lies next to the path in. Stepping sideways is cheating. The journey is not about the destination, but the path itself, yet the destination is a fulfilment we receive only after we have wandered far. I wrote a song about this several days after that first journey around the Labyrinth at the church and the second verse of this song expresses what I am trying to say best:

"Hold your hand above the center

Feel the power throbbing there

As the spiral draws you outward

Away from all you long to share

See your steps next to the ending

Know how close forever is

Yet the spiral pulls you inward

Away from unimagined bliss "

Life and death, beginning and ending, Alpha and Omega. Does the Labyrinth become the symbol, or is all our life's journey the symbol of the Labyrinth? In my dream did I see the Primal Reality, that the world is but an image of? It's a thought...

In the center of that great Labyrinth - and I cannot begin to convey how big this was in the dream. Scale and size were huge - dwarfing any attempt to create any sense of time or distance. I do not know if I conveyed that well in my words or if I could even begin to! - in the Center I encounter, perhaps not fire, but energy....living Light. And when I step into it, I make the statement that it is life - community, people, the world that I become connected to and a part of it, one with it, feeling that I am to serve it with my whole heart - and that is the Priestly vocation surely. But Hermit asked why did I sense life and the world and community and not Deity? Surely that was the moment when a person called to the Priesthood would have connected to their God in whatever form that was to take - Moses encountered a burning bush and God and was told to serve his people. Elijah felt the wind and the rain and the fire and the earthquake and God in the stillness and was told further how to reach Gods people. Isaiah answers the call and experiences God through fire and then is told to serve his people. So, why did this seem to skip the encounter with Deity and instead take me straight into the heart of that which I am to serve? Two thoughts here on that - one is that I had already encountered Deity on the path and accepted the call to this journey. Had already experienced that overwhelming connection even further back with the Harvest Dream in the church that came last year. Have been deeply connected all my life to the Devine, both in Christian churches and Pagan circles and perhaps just in the good earth that I walk on, the value I hold of the human spirit.

So maybe I had already had my encounter with Divinity, with "God" and now I was meeting my call - to serve this great connection to all living things, and to do it specifically as a Priest. I have mentioned the ideas and concepts of the Four Elements - I think what I encounter was the Fifth Sacred thing, that is spirit and Spirit, Life and all things Living, and the act, the process of Living itself. And if I encountered in the center this specific connection to the Fifth Sacred thing, that does not mean Divinity was not present. It is Divinity that transforms all else into the that which is sacred. I did not need to have an encounter with God (pick your form); He already walked with me in both Pagan and Christian Symbology. What I was meant to experience in the center of all things was what lay beyond - the Call that I have always felt on my life, now made "real" to me in this vision.

And at the end of the encounter, I curl up in a cave, and rest and sleep - and feel warm and safe as though in a womb. I may be called to Priesthood, I may find my connection with God, be it n Christ, or the Horned Deity, given that I am masculine in heart and soul. But I am also aware of the Feminine nature of Divinity - It is present in the very language of the Bible to the extant that I feel that God exists as a male/female duality, no matter how hard patriarchy has attempted to "edit" her out. And every other faith and myth and tale honors the Goddess. And She - that Sacred Femininity is here for me too, as the Mother of all things. For I am a woman, I am very androgynous, I feel a connection to many things feminine about myself. It is the endless dichotomy of this and my masculine self that makes life so - shall we say - interesting! LOL! The Goddess is every woman in all her stages of life. I had a sense of the duality of God of the Feminine and the Male as sacred long before I found this blend of Christianity and Paganism, long before I found that Hebrew words spoke of a Feminine Deity, that The Holy Spirit is Feminine in the original Greek. I do not feel that so great an encounter with myself and Divinity could exclude the Goddess, for all that Deity in the form of the Male issued the call upon my life. Perhaps it is to say that Male and Feminine are contained within the Devine in ways that are so transcendent, that we must separate them apart into duality to comprehend them. So both must always be present. Even in ourselves.

In the dream, I leave the great Stone ring and the Labyrinth and go back into the dark. And my journey out is yet to come - perhaps in another dream. Perhaps in how my life plays out as I answer this call and live daily one step at a time. The final surprising image was the Spiral that became a permanent mark upon my chest on my masculine body in the dream. Dreamweaver said "you must have waked up and expected to actually see it upon your chest when you looked down!" Indeed I did! It was so very real in the dream! A mark of who and what I am or am called to be, or of the spiral journey I am on...the Spiral is as big a symbol as the Labyrinth - what is the Labyrinth but an elaborate Spiral. So now in the vision I wear it over my heart.

We will see where the journey leads next, in either vision or waking life. Anybody who is following these dreams and blog, I would welcome thoughts and feedback.

Barucha - be blessed,

and Blessed Be!

Cameron