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A cat with a pen and a noteboook I don't know much about fantasy football, but it is my understanding that the game is to assemble the best team on paper that you can from all active players on all teams. That's how I have tended to create schedules for myself.

My fantasy schedule is dominated by "should": I should wash the kitchen floor every week, I should meditate, I should eat less sugar, I should practice parking more often, I should create a morning ritual, I should call my mother more often... in my head, I create elaborate schedules that include all the things I should do, but it is just a fantasy. "Should" isn't about intention or action; it's about guilt and (self-)criticism.

I've recently decided to try to give up the word "should". When I hear myself tell myself that I should do something, I stop and ask myself if I actually care about doing it. If the answer is "yes", then I change the sentence to one of real intention: "I will do that tonight". If the answer is "no", then I give myself permission to let go of the guilt and the fantasy.

I've been finding that a very big challenge, and one of the areas where I have particular trouble is related to spirituality. I have been having trouble letting go of the idea that one day I'll want to spend my mornings meditating, sipping herbal tea with a nutritious breakfast, and conducting simple but deeply meaningful rituals. The truth is, I want to spend my morning drinking espresso, playing Solitaire on my phone, and serving as a warm lap for my cat.

I been thinking about that gap between desire and action and why it exists. I have always wanted to be a spiritual person, but I never put plans into action, at least not for long. Then a friend of mine, who has been running Vancouver Pagan Pride Day for several years now, said something in one of the preparation meetings for the March 19th fundraiser event to the effect of "This is my spiritual work."

That rattled around in my head until I had one of those slap-your-forehead moments: for all my discussions about different ways to be Pagan and the centres of Paganism, I had never thought about what my own inclination towards Community-Centred Paganism actually meant for my personal practices. It should have been no wonder that meditating, praying, lighting candles, and making offerings didn't work for me; solitary ritual would never tick the right boxes for me. What does work for me is participating in group ritual, volunteering for the community, writing group rituals, and writing this blog. My spiritual work doesn't look like I expected it to, so I dismiss what I am actually doing - what is actually calling me and bringing me satisfaction - and try to make myself into what I picture religious looks like. And since that doesn't call me, it just leads to "should".

My spiritual practice doesn't look like kneeling in front of an altar praying. My spiritual practice looks like sitting in front of a laptop, it looks like long walks thinking about theology, it looks like my spiritual family sharing bread by candlelight after grounding, and it looks like editing a book and creating workshops. That's where my spirit wants to be, and it makes it easy to avoid fantasy schedules and just do things.

2

A cat with a pen and a noteboook I don't care what you believe so much as how you behave and what you do; my Paganism is one of orthopraxy. My rituals are not based on beliefs but on what works to create feelings of connection and meaningful spiritual experiences for participants. I consider rituals to be spiritual art. I'm mostly OK with how pretentious that sounds.

My spiritual family, the Silver Spiral Collective, is a happily motley crew of mixed Pagan beliefs and personal practices. Some of us have training in a variety of traditions and some are entirely self-trained. Our little Collective is almost 17 years old now, and some of had been practicing together for a couple of years before that. We've missed very few Sabbats in all those years, so we've probably done more than 125 rituals together as Silver Spiral1. We've got a huge archive of rituals in our memories (and, luckily, on our shared Google Drive).

We have talked belief before and found some common ground, but it is practice that brings us together. We want to practice better, connect more, and reach for deeper and more meaningful experiences together. To that end, we have always been a group that likes to play with the usual rules. We deconstruct, reconstruct, hack, and experiment, so some of those 125-ish rituals have been successful and some have been flops. But up until now, we have each been left to do our own analysis of what has worked and what wasn't (I've done some of my analysis on this blog). In the spirit of open source religion, we got together to hack our religion.

Here's how we did it: everyone chose a favourite ritual and answered a set of questions about it in advance:

1. Without looking at the full script, what do you remember most about the ritual? What stood out in terms of activities, senses, words, etc.?

2. Thinking of what stood out, how did it make you feel during the ritual? Why?

3. If you have the whole ritual script, were there things in there that you had forgotten about? How did they contribute to the ritual, or how did they interfere?

4. What made the ritual as a whole successful for you? Consider theme, environment/atmosphere, activities, pacing, leadership, etc. Also consider the influence of your preferences for certain times of year or holidays.

5. What other activities or rituals have felt similar to you (whether from Silver Spiral rituals or elsewhere)?

One afternoon, we gathered around a kitchen table with laptops and tablets and our answers on a shared Google doc. Technology is a wonderful thing - one member participated via Skype so she didn't share her cold, and we could all assist with taking notes - but there is something magical about face-to-face (besides the snacks, though we do have truly great snacks). In less than 3 hours, we accomplished more than we could have in weeks of email discussion.

We had a plan and a process going into the discussion: a person would talk a bit about their chosen ritual and their answers to the questions, then we discussed it as a group. Our only stated rule was to focus on the positive: talk about what works for you rather than what doesn't. Unspoken, but known from our past discussions, was to own your own opinions, to not assume agreement, to approach with curiosity, and to be kind and respectful.

Despite these understandings, there could have been hurt feelings and offended beliefs. Online and with strangers, this topic would have had a good chance of deteriorating into name calling, but our discussion was productive all the way through. A member pointed out that this might be partially because we came together as a group because we liked each other and then we built a practice around that, rather than being pushed together by shared beliefs. So it is right there in our origins: orthopraxy over orthodoxy and practice over faith.

That's me in the circle
That's me at the altar
Hacking my religion...

Series to date:
Our big questions - part 1
Our big questions - part 2
Our big questions - part 3: ritual structure 2.0
Our big questions – part 4: circling from awkward to graceful (and back)

1

A camera taking a picture of a shelf of Pagan books The reviews for "Witches of America" are in. The mainstream reviews are OK, but sound like a book that will be in the bargain bin within six months. The Pagan reviews, however, have been extremely critical of the author and her work, and this book's impact on our community may be long-lived. The most in depth I've come across so far is Rhyd Wildermuth's on Gods & Radicals.

Immersive, long-form journalism sounds like a tightrope walk. Last week, I was lucky enough to hear John Colapinto, author of "As Nature Made Him: The Boy Who Was Raised As a Girl", and Åsne Seierstad, author of "The Bookseller of Kabul" and "One of Us: The Story of Anders Breivik and the Massacre in Norway", speak about their work. They talked about the tricky balance involved when you get deeply involved in someone's life, sometimes literally living with them, in order to get the complete story. They talked about keeping themselves out of the story, about not changing the lives of their subjects (a sort of a journalist's prime directive), and about balancing the truth with serving the needs of a good story and being fair to the subject. These two very accomplished journalists also talked about ways in which this balance has gone wrong for them, despite working very hard to get it all right.

"Witches of America" may be a memoir rather than journalism, and it is perhaps slightly less abhorrent in that context. Author Alex Mar can get away with a lot more if she doesn't try to claim to be a reporter. However, after reading book reviews, book excerpts, Ms. Mar's past writing, and interviews with her, I think she may be mistaking her aloofness for objectivity, and, unfortunately, some of the mainstream reviews seem to be treating this book as a piece of ethnography and journalism. NPR's review even cites "finding the cultural research aspect of the book more engaging than Mar's personal journey" without challenging some obviously faked stories (whether by the subject or by Ms. Mar). I wonder what Margot Adler would have said about this book.

After reading a bit about Alex Mar, I am not surprised that her subjects trusted her. It sounds like her documentary work was pretty good and she got close to some trusted people. Though I don't know Morpheus Ravenna well, having only met her peripherally at an event, I also would have trusted someone sent by her. I probably still would; this train wreck isn't Morpheus' fault, or the fault of the other subjects. Even with a good reporter, there's a risk of a quote taken out of context (don't make jokes with reporters!) or a misunderstanding; with a lazy or biased journalist, the results can be even worse, and with someone willing to deceive about their purpose and use people in this way... well, one of the subjects, Karina, has commented publicly on Rhyd Wildermuth's review: "As a living, breathing, feeling, embodied Human-Wild-Divine-Witch, betrayed and reduced to a one dimensional "character" within Mar's book, I thank you for humanizing me and calling out the author for who and what she is."

What I learned from this incident is to carefully read any past work I can find from a writer before engaging with them1. Alex Mar's piece on polyamory shows so many of the same problems revealed in the reviews of "Witches of America": superficial involvement, treating parts as representative of the whole, fixations on how people look, shallow analysis, and a definite feeling that she considers herself superior to her subjects. The comments section on that piece are similar in tone to reactions to "Witches in America": the general public seems to think it is all in good fun - a little titillation, a little silliness, and maybe a little insight - while those inside the community, whether directly portrayed or not, feel betrayed, misunderstood, and even humiliated. While Alex Mar gloats that the New York Times "understands" her book, the Pagan community, which so often struggles to understand itself, can point and say "we may not be sure what we are, but we know we aren't that".

Edited to add: The Coru Cathubodua Priesthood has released a statement about how they were deceived in relation to this book and I think their hard-earned words of warning are an important addition to the record.

Windy witch weather vane
Image © Copyright Bob Embleton and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

The organizer must have said a dozen times on the FaceBook page in posts and comments: "Pagan Pride is on, rain or shine."

"Pagan Pride will be happening rain or shine so please dress accordingly. ..."
The forecast wasn't promising, but it is Vancouver, and you never know what's going to happen.

I joked with the lady at the coffee shop that I need a drink that's going to keep me warm and dry all day. By 7:30 in the morning, I'm parked near the park enjoying my latte while the rain pings on my roof. During set-up, sometimes it pours, sometimes it drizzles, but it gradually gets better and better. By 10 am, when the opening ritual is on, there's a thinning of the clouds that may even indicate sun, and the small crowd feels optimistic.

"It is lovely here now! Many vendors and presenters Looking forward to seeing more folks!"
The wind started picking up soon after though, and keeping vendor and event tents on the ground started to become a challenge. It wasn't too bad in the workshop tent tucked near the trees, so I didn't notice how bad it was getting during my "Introduction to Ritual Writing" workshop, but when I went out into the open to attend the Goddess Sung Devotional ritual, I felt the wild wind. We were holding the ritual tent down and had just started the quarter song when we heard a huge crack.

"I was missed by a tree by about 3 feet! ..."
Trees around the edge of our field started cracking and huge branches were falling. Most of a tree fell on a vendors tent. The organizer made the call and announced that we were cancelling the rest of the event and evacuating the park.

"Please everyone, pagan pride day has been cancelled due to extreme weather. We've have many trees come down in the park. Again pagan pride had been cancelled. Please stay home and be safe!!!"
If the goal of Pagan Pride is to bring the community together, few things could have been this effective. People sprang into action and started helping getting tents down, vendors packed up, and everything carried over to the parking lot and loaded into the VPPD's rented truck and individual cars. I saw this girl who must have been only 8 years old hauling a box of snacks almost as big as she was back to the truck!

"I hope everyone's home safe. Thank you to everyone who helped get everything packed up, especially the people who were coming out to their first VPP and ended up hauling tents, tables, and coolers between creaking trees."
"What a community! Everyone came together to help and support each other. I just wish it was longer, but I'm so proud of everyone there."
"What a great community we have. Thank you every one for helping to make sure each other were ok."

This is a tough financial blow for a non-profit organization with few funds, as well as very stressful and sad for organizers who worked so hard to prepare for this annual event. Fundraiser events are being planned, donations are also welcome and much needed, and we all want to support the merchants who lost products and tents.

"We are looking for a location to host VPPD 2015- the sequel. Something like a cafeteria or a gym would offer ample indoor space for vendors and rituals. So would a large hall. VPPD is running at a loss right now and doesn't have funds to cover the cost of a large rental fee so if you think you know of an inexpensive place that may be able to handle this indoor event, please EMAIL me the details..."

But, hey, no one was hurt, everyone pulled together, and we made the news. And none of us who were there will ever forget that we survived Vancouver Pagan Pride Day 2015.

1

The main lodge and fire pit at a Pagan gathering This past weekend, I went to my 18th Gathering for Life on Earth. There were rituals, and swimming, and workshops, and feasting, but best of all, there were juicy conversations. One of my favourite people to talk to every year is a brilliant woman who runs a local Pagan choir and who does a sung devotional ritual every year. She is so thoughtful in how she approaches ritual, and how she sets a tone and guides without controlling... her rituals inspire me on several levels.

Naturally, she leads devotional rituals because she is a polytheist, which I am not. This year, we touched on this briefly in our meandering theological discussion, and I mentioned the four centres of Paganism theory. Though we agreed that people may be centred in multiple areas or may slip between them, she did identify primarily as deity-centred and I as community-centred. We discussed how non-deity-centred public ritual leaders should be cognizant of not offending those for whom the gods and spirits are literal. It isn't that hard, and seems mostly common sense: don't invoke gods if you don't know at least a little about them, lest you offend them; don't invoke gods together who are enemies; don't call on spirits unless the literal energy is what is desired. Basically, it seemed all good practices to me anyway: avoiding cognitive dissonance amongst knowledgeable or conscientious non-believers, not offending believers, and not making a fool of yourself by parading your ignorance around the circle.

A good ritual leader wants everyone to get something out of their ritual. That's a challenge in a public or semi-public setting where people could be from any of the centres, and be any of the kinds of deism as well1. Making a ritual that works for everyone is a big challenge, but it isn't a bad start to figure out what responsibility you have as a leader to each of the four centres. Here are just some ideas to get us all started; feel free to add more in the comments:

To the deity-centre, you have the responsibility to use respectful language and actions towards the gods and spirits, as discussed above.

To the nature-centre, you have the responsibility to be conscience in your choice of materials and tools, avoiding plastics and waste and being aware of the kind of offerings being made and their impact on the plants and animals. You would also want to be aware of the actual environment of your ritual (and not, for example, turning your back on a lake in order to invoke Water in the West), know your science if you are going to be using natural concepts (and not, for example, calling on a non-local bird as your spirit in the East), and being careful in your language around grounding (really, stop dumping all your negative energy into the earth) and elevating or privileging people over nature.

To the inner-centre2, you have the responsibility to not preach or lecture, and not to imply that lack of belief in external, literal gods makes someone a bad Pagan, or that lack of faith will drive one mad. It is also important that your ritual have a coherent theme and that the components make psychological sense in how they come together and build towards something. I think this is also the centre that would most want to know what words mean when chanting or invoking in another language, since intent is so important to many inner-centred traditions. Providing context and translation would be crucial to their comfort and involvement.

To the community-centre, you have the responsibility to offer opportunities for people to participate together; to offer opportunities and activities that someone could not experience on their own. From the comfort of our homes, we can watch videos of liturgy being recited, we can listen to recordings of talented singers, we can mediate and pray - what we want from group ritual is that which we can't get any other way. Being asked to merely witness is usually not sufficient for this centre, except where community witnessing is the whole point, as in a handfasting.

Following these guidelines won't guarantee that everyone will grok or even enjoy your ritual, but it does mean that people won't be put off or jolted out of the experience you are trying to create by something that offends their fundamental beliefs. If you want to offer rituals to the Pagan community, especially in public or semi-public settings like festivals or Pagan Pride events, it is important to recognize that you are responsible to the whole community, not just the centres you are most familiar with. A public ritual is about more than your own practice, or even presenting your tradition to a larger audience; it is about engaging your community - your whole community - in something spiritual, religious, and meaningful.

I suspect some people will fear that in trying to please everyone, you will end up with a mess of compromises that pleases no one, but I think that reading over the points above makes it pretty clear that it is possible to make a ritual that fills at least the basic needs of all the centres without losing meaning or purpose. It is a great gift to the community to offer a ritual, but only if it is offered with respect and love for everyone.

"Can you just stop?" I want to say, "Stop with the giggling, with the chatting, with the side comments that have nothing to do with why we are here. Focus, damn it!"

Even the best ritual script doesn't always survive contact with the ritual participants. I have had rituals flop due to a weak concept and lack of preparation, but the ones that bug me are the ones that fail, in my perception, due to the participants.

That isn't fair, really; if the participants are distracted and unfocused, it could be that my ritual concept was a poor match for the group, or that I didn't sufficiently prepare my group for the ritual, or that my overall leadership was lacking. But sometimes it seems like one person had a bad day, or consumed too much caffeine, or has low blood sugar, and they pull the focus of everyone.

I admire ritual leaders that can return focus without causing further disruption to the energy (as suddenly yelling "Can you just stop?" would tend to). I went to a lovely sung devotional ritual where a couple of people started talking about something unrelated to the ritual, and the priestess gently sang out into the centre of the circle something like "this is a sacred time for devotional speech only". It shut down the distraction and returned everyone's attention back to the ritual's purpose, and because the priestess didn't address anyone directly, she accomplished this without calling anyone out.

I am still trying to figure out how to intervene and bring a ritual back on track in a way that is comfortable and fits my ritual style. I've found a couple of things that are helpful for prevention, though. I need to know my ritual very well so I can lead it confidently and have the elements flow smoothly; pauses, hesitations, and errors leave time for attention to wander. Using the same ritual structure every time has helped with my smaller group, as the repetition from ritual to ritual gets everyone into the familiar mindset faster and more effectively. And making sure people have eaten is a good idea, so we usually do dinner first and dessert after for grounding.

Sometimes there's nothing to be done. I write the best script I can, prepare myself and the group as well as possible, set the mood and try to keep the energy flowing smoothly, but maybe someone will be "off", or maybe the cat will throw up in the circle, or maybe someone's phone will start ringing... do what you can, then surrender to whatever happens. You can't always fight it - and yelling "stop it!" in circle is probably not conducive to creating the right energy.

2

There is incredible diversity in this umbrella religion we call "Paganism" - to the extent that some doubt we can be called a single religion at all. I find the ways people classify the types of Pagans to be more interesting than a debate over who gets to use the term and who doesn't.

"Given the commonality of the basic Gardnerian liturgical pattern, it is useful to propose a typology based on how closely the various Pagan groups resemble the Gardnerians, resemblances created because it was the "Gardnerian magnet", as Chas Clifton labeled it, that set off the Pagan Renaissance in the 1960s. ... Given that, let us visualize a circular target. At its center are the "orthodox" Gardnerians of America ... The next ring out is for the "liberal" Gardnerians... The third ring is for Witches whose practice follows Gardnerian practice in almost every detail, although these Witches do not claim a lineage going back to Gardner... The fourth ring is thus for generic, eclectic, or non-Gardnerian Witches, who now constitute roughly 90 percent of all the Witches in America and Canada. ... the fifth ring is for Pagan religions that do not define themselves as being a form of Witchcraft... A sixth ring is needed for the Ceremonial Magicians... The next ring out would logically be for all the varieties of indigenous religions that have influenced or are of interest to Pagans, but these religions are in the bailiwick of mainstream religious studies; so this seems to be a logical place to stop."

- "A Typology of Paganism"; Aiden Kelly: Including Paganism

"Imagine that the Pagan community has not one, but multiple "centers". Imagine each of these "centers" defines Pagan identity and authenticity differently."

"The Pagan identity of earth-centered Pagans is defined by their relationship to their natural environment. Authenticity for these Pagans is defined by one’s ability to connect with the more-than-human world."

"The Pagan identity of Self-centered Pagans is defined by spiritual practices which aim at development of the individual, spiritually or psychologically. Paganism is, for some Self-centered Pagans, a form of therapy or self-help. Authenticity is determined by one’s relationship with one’s Self, with that larger sense of Self which extends beyond the boundaries of one’s ego and one’s individual person."

"The Pagan identity of deity-centered Pagans is defined by a dedication to one or more deities. Authenticity is determined by one’s relationship with those deities and/or one’s relationship with the reconstructed practices of ancient pagans who worshiped those deities."

- "The Three (or more?) "Centers" of Paganism"; The Allergic Pagan

"For community-centered Pagans, the community is that which transcends the individual. The relationship between community-centered Pagans and the community is ideally characterized by love. ... The unique challenge presented by community-centered Paganism arises from the conflict between individual and group needs. Thus, love is a core virtue of community-centered Paganism, since love is what enables us to identify the needs of others as our own."

- "The role of faith and hubris in Paganism"; The Allergic Pagan

Though I like the idea of the four centres of Paganism, I want to use "inner centred" or something like that due to the problems involved in using Self-centred in a discussion.

And an article I always give to people before/during theology discussions:

"Red: ...the gods are personal, named, individual entities, with whom one can communicate almost as one would with human beings. They may or may not be humanlike."

"Blue: Deity exists. ... It is so great, so subtle, so all-encompassing, that we cannot hope to comprehend more than a tiny fraction of it. Being ourselves human, we relate best to things that are humanlike, and so we have 'the gods': humanlike metaphors or masks which we place upon the faceless Face of the Ultimate..."

"Yellow: The gods exist only as constructs within the human mind and imagination. They are Truths - valid ways of making sense out of human thought and experience... - but they are not Facts. ... It doesn't matter that the gods aren't factual; they're true, and that's what's important."

"Now, let's arrange these endpoints in the shape of a triangle, with Red at the top, and Blue and Yellow at the left and right of the base. Many people's beliefs don't fall precisely on one of these endpoints, but somewhere along one of the edges, or even in the middle. A person's beliefs may change from moment to moment, or may remain fixed for years."

- "Pagan Deism: Three Views"

"If you identify with one or two of these centers but not another, that's fine – and you have plenty of company. If you identify with any of these centers, I want you in the Big Tent of Paganism. I enjoy theological discussions and debates (so long as they remain respectful) – they help me refine my own ideas about the gods. But in the end the nature of the gods or God/dess or the All or however you see Divinity remains a mystery."

- "The Three Centers of Paganism"; Under the Ancient Oaks

And, finally, the (inevitable, but welcome) call for respect despite our many differences:

Project Pagan Enough logo

"Project Pagan Enough (known as PPE) began in 2010 as a means to bring a live-and-let-live mentality to the pagan community. To cease the in-fighting and further a sense of community and camaraderie between those who claim the moniker Pagan. ...Project Pagan Enough is also a challenge to engage with those you disagree with in an academic, tactful conversation. Get to know the other person and their reasoning for saying or believing as they do. Educate both yourself and the other person in a respectful manner. Share knowledge and regard someone’s individual path as being different from your own while being the same in the desire to seek the divine."

- "Project Pagan Enough"; Inciting A Riot

6

Sign: "Emergency Shut Off Valve" Many prominent Pagans are now talking about consent culture and how to make Pagan spaces safer. It particular, I would recommend Christine Kraemer's Consent Culture 101: Basic Practices and Teaching Games, Yvonne Aburrow's Silence equals complicity: making Pagan groups safe for everyone, Shauna Aura Knight's Harassment and Boundaries, and especially Stasa Morgan-Appel's Some Experiences with a Culture of Consent and Radical Inclusion.

To me, a culture of consent means that activities only happen with the enthusiastic consent of all participants. It is where lack of enthusiastic consent is sufficient to stop an activity and seek better communication; a spoken "no" is not necessarily required. And it goes beyond sex and even beyond touch and into all interactions so that games and activities, religious rituals, and even conversations are all based on consent. If we establish an expectation for seeking consent in all things, maybe it will be easier for all us to create and respect boundaries in more challenging areas such as sex.

At a Pagan event, I was in the washroom with someone with whom I generally get along and she made a comment that I didn't want to engage with. I said "I don't want to get in the middle of that". She had started towards the exit as we talked and she then stopped in front of the door, blocking it, holding the handle, and proceeded to rant at me. It was brief – probably only 30 seconds – but I felt disrespected and annoyed. Had I been less startled, I would have spoken up, but it happened so fast. I don't think she thought about it either; she didn't consciously override me or disregard my feelings, but simply got caught up in her own head.

At a drumming workshop, the instructor asked each person to individually play back a rhythm. I decided to pass on that particular exercise, being self-conscious about my sense of rhythm. When it came to my turn, I told the instructor that I would prefer not to and he was fine with that, but someone else in the class said "we're allowed to not do it?". It shocked me that those around me didn't know that they were allowed to say "no" to something.

If we value consent as individuals and as a community, we will all develop the ability to lovingly enforce boundaries and respectfully step back if requested. That's what a complete culture of consent could help us all with. There's a phrase amongst people that are seeking to create "consent culture": "yes means yes". Instead of defining consent in terms of what we don't say no to, it is about seeking enthusiastic consent. Enthusiastic consent and participation is what we should want in all our rituals; it will make our magic and our worship stronger.

There a few things I consider non-negotiable to warn for going into a ritual: skyclad (especially if it is mandatory); blood drawing; and drugs, including alcohol, in the working portion of the rite (a small amount of alcohol in the food and drink portion seems acceptable to me as long as consumption is voluntary and an alternative is presented as equal in value). Unfortunately, I have seen or heard from trusted sources of all three of these things being sprung upon ritual participants at different times by ritual leaders who should know better. I believe that sometimes ritual leaders are using the element of surprise in these matters as ways to shortcut to intense experiences. By springing something controversial and difficult on the participants, they can provoke an emotional response to add to the energy of the ritual. I think it is a lazy way of creating a heightened atmosphere and has no place in a religion that calls all members priests and priestesses.

Warning for or avoiding nudity, blood, and drugs is just the minimum we should do, though. The next step would be doing what this year's event coordinator did at the Gathering: making sure all event descriptions include information about scents/incense and food so potential participants with allergies and sensitivities can make informed decisions in advance. Finally, I believe we should make it clear how people can opt out of any part of a ritual or leave the sacred space completely.

I feel like it is an incredibly powerful thing to be able to have a skyclad ritual at a Pagan event. I've felt and seen the magic that happens when people have the chance to be naked in Circle together: how people gain confidence and become more embodied, and sometimes even become more comfortable in their skin. I don't practice skyclad at home, but I lead mixed groups of almost strangers in nude rituals at the annual local Pagan camp (The Gathering for Life on Earth) because I believe it is important for the experience to be available there1.

This year, the camp's theme was "The Wild Hunt" and my ritual, called Challenges of the Wild Ones, was on the first night, at about 11 PM. This has been the traditional time slot for the "starlit skyclad" (known in previous years as the "nude moonlit"), and I like it for the feeling of jumping in to cold water: everyone who wants to take the plunge can do so early in the weekend, before they have time to talk themselves out of it. I know how much courage it takes for people, especially first timers, to take off their clothes in front of other people, especially if they are also coming to one of their first group rituals ever. I feel honoured that several times, my skyclad ritual has been someone's first group ritual besides the camp's opening. I am flattered by the trust they've put in me.

When I write rituals for strangers, I cast my mind back to when I was new to public rituals and I never include anything that would have made that self feel unsafe or embarrassed. So when I was writing "Challenges of the Wild Ones" and wanted to include a part where everyone had to respond to a question, I considered a couple of different ways of making that more comfortable while keeping the feeling of a challenge. One option I considered was to give the questions in the pre-ritual explanation so people would have more time to prepare their answer. This was ultimately rejected because I didn't want everyone distracted by thinking up and remembering their answers during the first part of the ritual. The solution I came up with was to offer the option of a silent response. Since everyone would have their eyes closed, people wouldn't necessarily know who spoke and who responded silently, so hopefully that would minimize peer pressure. Honestly, I expected most people would respond silently when given the option, but when that portion of the ritual started, every single person gave their answer out loud. I don't remember many of the answers - the answers were to the gods or spirits, so not mine to collect - but I was deeply touched by the authenticity and honesty in how people spoke. I felt that most people responded from deep truths, even when their words were simple.

Later that weekend, I spoke to someone else who had been in that circle about how that surprised me, and she said that maybe because I had given people an "out", they felt safe enough not to use it. This dovetails nicely with my theory that if we make it easy for people to know how to leave a ritual, they'll be less likely to want a way out. I don't think offering an opt-out option will usually result in a ritual of non-participants watching... if it does, the ritual needs to be redesigned from scratch.

The pre-ritual speech I had my priest give (while I ran down to the beach to finish setting up) included directions on what to do to opt out of an activity, permission to respond silently, mention that I would be touching people on the shoulder to prompt their response, and instructions to bring their cloaks and towels with them for the optional skinny dipping. Looking back, I would have liked to have added a note about how to leave the ritual completely. There was one originally, but when the opening ritual didn't include a circle casting, I hastily wrote a circle casting into my ritual and didn't have the time to thoughtfully consider how people should exit. I would have also made sure to draw attention to the ingredients in the food and drink (several people took only apple slices until they found out that the cookies were gluten- and nut- and dairy-free), and to mention that opting out or leaving would have no consequences and there would be no questions asked, though my priest and I would be available to talk or receive feedback throughout the weekend.

Our most popular Pagan liturgies hold that we are all divine, or at least all capable of reaching the divine on our own. If everyone is god/dess, or even if everyone is "merely" a priest or priestess, then we owe each other respect. One of the ways we can show each other respect is to seek consent in all things. It is the least we can do for our fellow deities.

1

A sword, a horn, and some Gathering tokens. I've had three showers and put all the clothing that went with me in the laundry, but I can still occasionally smell smoke from the sacred fire at the Gathering on my skin. The Gathering is in my pores.

This year was a cocoon year for us: we were small and compact, getting ready for transformation. Our community could look very different in the future, but this year, there were old friends back again - some for the first time in years - and new friends to circle with and many much loved faces missing.

There were many wonderful rituals this year (they've been added to the Gathering timeline) and I was blessed enough to attend all but one. I know many people had powerful and magical experiences both in the circles and outside of them. In between, there were conversations about life, about science, about theology, and about where we are going next as a community.

At the annual general meeting, several people talked about ways to intensify or deepen the Gathering experience, to try to offer something more to potential Gatherers. A few people made reference to camps that offer more intense training, such as Witch Camp, and that sounds amazing, but somehow doesn't seem like a match to me. I don't think we should become a shorter version of something else, but more ourselves and offer our own unique event.

As often happens at the Gathering, I end up marveling at the diversity of our community. I ran one ritual and attended seven others, and the closest thing we had to the "conventional" Wiccan-like rituals that are common at public and semi-public events was the very fun and funny Chocolate Ritual (similar to this ritual). Attendees at the Gathering are from all over the typological map of magical traditions, from all parts of the colour triangle of the three deisms, and from all the overlapping circles of the centres of Paganism. But as a community, I think the Gathering as it is right now might be best categorized as part of the fourth centre of Paganism: community-centred. We come together to make a single event out of all our different beliefs, practices, and paths. At an event with fewer than 50 people, there were nine rituals (some with very large casts and a lot of preparation), as well as workshops. Fires were kept, rain protection was put up, lights were strung, a temple was assembled, and everything was cleared up at the end. So many people invested time and love before and during the weekend. Though as individuals we may be deity-centred, or focused on our higher selves, or about honouring nature first, at the Gathering, we make our offerings to each other and to the good of our community as a whole. We don't always succeed, but the effort is magical.

Working from the idea that, as a whole, the Gathering's spirituality is community-centred, and inspired by Steven Posch's beautiful post Sun Horns, Moon Horns, I have a plot afoot for next year. I'd like to recruit people from all parts of our community to say food blessings before each meal and to lead short rituals at sunrise and sunset (and maybe moonrise and moonset too, if I have enough volunteers). That's eight meals, three sunrises, and three sunsets; fourteen opportunities to be together in a sacred moment and to connect with each other, and maybe with something more, should the prayer be offered that way.

Anyone from the Gathering or considering the Gathering for next year: Please let me know if you would be interested in offering a food blessing or being a part of a brief sun or moon ritual next year, or even if you think this is a good idea or not. I promise that comments or constructive criticism will not result in you being volunteered for anything.

Richard: You have a year to perfect your horn blowing; no more drunken moose!

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Barred Spiral Galaxy NGC 1300
Source: Hubblesite.org

Being a part of a diverse religious community of passionate people with strongly held opinions can be challenging. Sometimes it is really easy to get caught up in debates and drama and forget how powerful and beautiful our community can be. As organizers begin working on their local Pagan Pride Days, I suggest reviewing HecateDemeter's posts on framing (this one is a good one to start with) and creating your own quote about why you are proud to be Pagan. Here are some I found around the Internet:

"We are the intellectual heirs of the ancient Greek philosophers who invented democracy, poetry, philosophy, the Olympics, etc. We're going to be holding a Pagan Pride event on Sept. 23rd to emphasize how local Pagans contribute to our local economy by farming, creating jobs in local businesses, supporting our local schools by donating books to school libraries and...

"Stop letting your opponents define your message."

Framing on the Eve of Lughnasadah.

"[Pagans'] work may seem silly to outsiders, but they have taken on a huge task – to create anew what was lost, a vibrant culture, filled with songs, ceremonies, dances, lullabies, myths. To create such a culture – one that is rich yet at home with notions of individual freedom and modern life – what a Herculean task!

"But a possible one. And as the last flames flicker out and the last tone dissipates, each person returns to their ordinary life with some small remnant of the incredibly subversive notion that the world can be transformed and reborn, that 'we are as gods and might as well get good at it'."

– "Heretic's Heart: A Journey Through Spirit and Revolution" by Margot Adler, quoting "Whole Earth Catalog" (Menlo Park, Calif.: Portola Institute, 1969) 367; I found it here.

"Paganisms are not proselytizing religions. We don't have to proselytize. Our job is to provide for ourselves a vibrant, flexible, and ongoing sustained pagan culture that is so beautiful, so rich with, and so sexy and so desirable that people will want to come to us because they see us and they say, 'I want what they have.'"

– Steven Posch, quoted in Five ritualists I'd like to invite to dinner, Part 2: Steven Posch.

"... comfort is not what I seek from religion. I want challenge. I want danger. I want to be shaken to my depths. I want to be scared shitless. A Dionysian religion breaks down social structures and breaks down the walls of the ego. As Harry Byngham (aka "Dion"), chief of the Order of Woodcraft Chivalry, wrote: "Our Dionysian morality is not 'safety first', but 'vitality first'." Neopagan religion is not a religion of good behavior, but a wild religion, a religion of "drums, moonlight, [feasting] rather, dancing, masks, flowers, divine possession" (Robert Graves). It makes me very uncomfortable — and it is what I need."

My love/hate relationship with Neopaganism, Part 2.

"We are a religion of many sects, many cults, many expressions. From the "hard Gards" to the solitary eclectics weaving their own magic. We are each full of the same awe, wonder, mystery, and joy. We cast the circle, call the elements, honor the Gods, celebrate the Mystery and send our energy to make a positive change in the world. This happens in rituals containing hundreds of people. This happens silently in candlelit bedrooms of closeted solitaries. Our words may be different, our mythos vary and the details be different, but as Wiccans we are all calling forth the same Mystery."

Why I Love Wicca.

"There is nothing in our lives that is not sacred. ... There is nothing in our lives that is not sacred because life itself is a holy and blessed thing. Every flower, animated. Every rock, an ancient pattern. Each song, an expression of humanity in relationship to all things.

"We are star stuff, it is said, and this is true. We are made of the same iron that gives off distant, dying light. We are made of the same iron that anchors us to this earth. Sometimes we remember. Sometimes we forget."

Living Sacred.

And because I think Paganism could fill this need:

"A religion old or new, that stressed the magnificence of the universe as revealed by modern science, might be able to draw forth reserves of reverence and awe hardly tapped by the conventional faiths. Sooner or later, such a religion will emerge."

– Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space (1984), as quoted here.

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