Amazon.com Widgets
Currently viewing the tag: "Questioning"

It was a normal morning at home. I was reading a book about Proto-Indo-Europeans while my dogs slept on the couch next to me, and my husband was off at our local metaphysical store, trading a psychic reading with an astrologer.

Admittedly, our “normal” is not really prime-time normal.

I looked up from what I was doing, and I saw my husband walking toward the house from his car with a horrible expression on his face. Agony, perhaps? Pain? He came in and I asked him what was wrong.

“Migraine. A terrible migraine.”

I ushered him to the bedroom, got him a rag for his head, and helped him lay down to try to sleep off the pain. He was out for almost an hour an a half, which is quite unusual for him, even in a situation like this.

When he rose, he told me that he believed that something was “on him,” but he didn’t really know what that meant. While he slept, he had a rather disturbing dream; one that woke him up with a fright. In meditation early that morning his guide said to be aware of someone or something coming after him. He didn’t know what to make of that message when it was given to him, but he was reminded of it now as we stood in the kitchen, his head still throbbing despite the nap.

“I’m thinking this might be… and I don’t really believe in this… psychic attack.”

My husband is a gifted channel and psychic reader, but he is also a very logical, skeptical thinker. It is common for him to encounter some widely accepted phenomena in the New Age world and have an immediate suspicion that it’s “just made up.” He also understands that psychic work is a balance of intuition and imagination, so one might say that what he does is also “just made up.” Nonetheless, he finds cause to question.

I think this kind of questioning is good among psychic folk and magick workers. We have to be observant of what our experience tells us, and if there is not yet an experience to inform what we know we are well served to be inquisitive. Blind acceptance leads to wishy-washiness, I think, and unreliable results.

But here we were, trying to sort through the cause of this unexpected pain, and psychic attack seemed to make the most sense. Neither of us had dealt with this before, but I, for one, was willing to accept that this was the cause and start searching for a remedy.

(Incidentally, if there is ever desire for proof that I possess a deep, ancient, earthy magic inside of me — something that my grandma has, and my mother as well — all you need to do is mess with someone I love. I guarantee you — you’ll feel it.)

I urged my husband to reach out to a fellow psychic and colleague of his, and while he did I called upon my Patron for Her aid in this matter. As I said, I don’t have experience at dealing with this type of situation, and I’m not completely sure what my beliefs are on the subject, either. So, it seemed best to place the whole thing at the feet of a Goddess.

My husband’s colleague confirmed his suspicion. It was, indeed, psychic attack. We went back to the metaphysical shop and reached out for help from our friend and in-house herb-worker, who made him a scrub and gave him a mantra to chant. We headed home, and by that time he was beginning to feel a little better. I, on the other hand, felt like my belly was on fire.

Something seems to have shifted now. His pain is gone, and there isn’t the sense of something heavy on him like there was before. I was able to work off the rest of my defensive anger at the gym before I did anything rash. It appears that the attack has passed.

Now, I’m left with questions.

What do you think psychic attack is? Do you understand it to be some form of malevolent magick, or do you think the whole idea is hogwash?

Have you ever been in a situation where psychic attack seemed like the obvious cause for a malady? Was your suspicion proven or disproven?

Even having had this experience, I feel the subject is worth some further exploration, and I’d love to know what you think and what similar (or vastly different) experiences you might have had.

I’m not sure why I’m a Pagan. I type those words, and I know I’m taking a risk by making this admission, but it’s what’s going through my head.

My Paganism, as well as my Druidry, is feeling more like subject matter for this blog rather than a way of living my life. Being Pagan doesn’t feel very immediate to me. It feels like a construct. It’s a bit like drag; like something I’m putting on, or that I’m trying to assume. I wrote about being a convert. Perhaps this feeling is an extension of that process of conversion. But I’m still not clear on what I’m converting to.

The Pagan Community feels more like an idea to me than anything else. There are Pagan gatherings which I attend from time to time, and groups to which I’ve paid membership dues. But for the most part, the Community lives in the ether, and I’m not exactly certain that I fit into it, or what exactly I should call myself. The labels come with baggage.

I never felt comfortable calling myself a Christian, either. I always told people that I was an Episcopalian. Somehow, identifying with my denomination was easier for me to explain. For me, being a Christian wasn’t as much about what I believed; it was about what I did. I think my Christianity was very Pagan in that way.

By being an Episcopalian, I was liturgical, rational — as much as any “person of faith” can be — and unwilling to accept fundamentalism. I sought out a balance of intellect and emotion, listened for the subtle, soft voice of the Spirit, and opened my awareness to the unexpected ways in which God might be present in the world. That’s what being an Episcopalian was for me, and so, by extension, that’s how I was a Christian.

But there were squabbles within the Christian community about which denomination was getting it right. Christians are constantly arguing amongst themselves about what is the best or most correct way to be a Christian (similar to the arguments between Revivalist and Reconstuctionist Druids on who is actually a Druid, or the talk about which Witch among us is a genuine Witch). Episcopalians were often viewed as too liberal, or sometimes too formal. Some Christians viewed them as too affluent, and too white. Gays had a home in the pews and behind the altar, and for many Christians that was a sure sign that Episcopalians weren’t actually Christian.

It was a hot mess.

My present conundrum is partly rooted in questions of identity, but also in experience. Christmas left me feeling confused. I opened myself up to certain aspects of it, and now I’m wondering what it was that inspired me to leave.

Do I think Christianity has it all right? No. Is God a man? No. But neither is God a woman. God is a metaphor. I’m not sure my Christian or Pagan brothers and sisters think of it that way. I reject the doctrine of original sin (as did many of the Christians I knew back in the day), and I understand how the religion has historically been a breeding ground for greed, power mongering and institutional corruption. But even still, there are discussions happening among more progressive, less institutional, “Emergent” factions of the Christian community — discussions about greed, power mongering and institutional corruption — that have an immediacy and potency that I’m not hearing in other places.

I guess what I’m wonder is — What does being a Pagan get you. Personal freedom? The ability to put together your own tradition? Or, perhaps the chance to structure your life around an ancient tradition? In a way, Christianity offered that to me, too. So how is Paganism different?

I feel hesitant to post about this because I’m concerned with what kind of response I’ll get. I feel like Pagans want to read about proud Pagans, or Pagans who are firm in their identity, and that those of us who are engaged in a discernment process should just get with the program already. There is a streak of militant activism among some of the Pagans I’ve read online, and I’ve been reticent to subject myself to their criticisms.

But, this is where I am. I’m not sure that the direction of this blog can be anything but an honest exploration and examination of my perspective. I’m not an ideologue. I’m not here to push a Pagan agenda. I’m here to unpack my perspective. I’m here to engage in respectful dialogue.

The truth is, being alive right now — being a modern, Western, American human being — is very confusing. It would be simple to say that all one needs to do is firm up their religious identity — be a better Pagan, Witch, Druid, Asatru, or Christian — and then everything would be easier. But I don’t think it works that way. Identity and religious expression are much more complicated than a single word would imply.

Am I alone in this experience?