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Occasionally I wandered in where I was not wanted and gave truthful answers.
Sometimes I even did it deliberately. A little disruption now can prevent disaster later.

Dirty hands

Here’s the secret to being a pagan.

You make connections between the Divine and the world. You share them. And then you laugh joyfully.

All the rites, all the songs, all the chants, all the elements, all the studies, and all the work, that’s just to help you make the connections to the Divine.

Those parts of the Divine that you touch, you can’t keep the magick to yourself and still be pagan. You have to send it out. We take the Divine Gift and share it.

“This is the world, there is no other.” That’s the limiter. Everything moves because of dynamic balances, magick is the essence of change and evolution. Life changes. Magick moves. We connect.

Making those connections in the world takes work. Remember we walk between the worlds. It’s not enough to touch the Divine. We have to come off the mountain top and share what we’ve found. We have to step out of the ritual circle.

We have to Manifest.

That means plunging your hands into the soil. That means wiping away a child’s tear. That means earning the trust of a wary fourfoot.

That means tracking through the snow. That means climbing to be near a soaring bird if only for a second. That means swimming and feeling a fin on your leg.

That means building the best way you know how. That means tinkering to get something that works better. That means caring for what you’ve been entrusted with.

I wasn’t raised pagan. My maternal grandfather was a Baptist deacon. The family moved to Arizona for my grandmother’s health and he had to stop being a farmer. After he retired, he became a gardener. He kept about a half acre under cultivation. And he grew the most amazing stuff. He kept it up until the day he passed on. He had a spark when he was working. My grandfather gave far more away than he kept. He kept a lot.

This very Christian man who held his faith deep in his heart was connected to the earth. It’s a connection that weakened when he didn’t share. It was a connection that his children and grandchildren shared through the bone. It was up to each of us to share that further.

Maybe we worry too much about the labels. Maybe the secret is really what we pass on. Maybe it’s really a basic human impulse.

Make it better today. Keep polishing.

Good enough for this morning. And now I need to go greet the sun and remember when I would share coffee and sunrise with my granpa on the porch.

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A narrow slice of life, but now and again pondering American neopaganism, modern adult pagans & the World.

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