My · ADF · Dedicant · On-Line · Journal

I hate the "D" with a passion, so I will NOT use it. But I have started Jenny Craig. Yes, I am hungry. No, I am not cheating. The lack of cheating isn't about willpower. It's about pain. Cheating would make the pain of starving oneself pointless. And I don't like pain, so if you put yourself through pain, it damn well better have a point to it. <> I'll be getting back to my veggies now......

I sat down at lunch time today to begin work on my Two Powers Meditation essay. But all I could think about was the discussion Ian began with his question on how we view (or how we should say Druids view) the soul(s). And yeah, I went ahead and posted something that I can only hope and pray doesn't get me stoned or attacked at Wellspring.

What I have been trying to understand since I joined the ADF is what the ADF believes. What does it mean that I am a card carrying member? Does it come with a list of assumed beliefs? How can I tell when I read something on a list or an essay on the website if it is indicative of mainstream ADF beliefs, or if the writer is speaking only for his or her own radical beliefs. Obviously I didn't want to name names, because I really don't want to offend anyone, so I realize it will be difficult to respond well without concrete examples. But I would like to understand what we all believe.

Has this question come up before? How heretical am I for asking? Does anyone else wonder these things?

Sometime last month I had gotten so disgusted with the pathetic actions of the folks in the Mabinogi that I put it away. I didn't intend to stop reading it or find another book to fulfill my DP requirement. I had just had enough of people acting stupid, not seeing the obvious ramifications and then reaping the consequences. I mean, what the hell?

Last night I picked up the book again. I read about Bleudwedd. What a really depresssing story to read around Valentine's Day. What's the moral of that? Even someone who is literally made for you will still betray you in the end? There is no such thing as a happy ending when you deny someone free will (Bleudwedd never had a choice in husbands)? Maybe that's it... Treat a woman/person as an object at your own risk? Or maybe the overall moral is that a guy can be really smart and accomplished and still do really stupid things?

Any suggestions as to the possible take-away from this story would be very interesting for me to read -- so if you've got any ideas, please post!!

After several weeks of discontented mulling and another good solid week of research, I finally broached the subject of The Dagda on the DP list. This was not done lightly on my part. Keep in mind that my last question "What if I disagree?" became the cyber equivalent of a knock-down, drag-out brawl. But post I did and three really cool things came out of it:

1) I came away with both respect and a fondness for The Dagda

My take away -- The Dagda is a very clever and extremely capable guy. He’s the kind of guy who makes you shake your head and say, “Damn, he’s good” no matter what he is doing. He uses his intellect when it is called for. He uses brawn as necessary. And he uses sex when that is the best means to his end. He is bright enough to understand the way systems, laws, customs and peoples’ minds function and happy to use those to his advantage. In short, he’s an excellent guy to have on your side and not at all someone you would want as an enemy.

2) I really like my final disclaimer on the original post and will most likely use it again (May Manannan cloak this post in a cyber fog before anyone who will be offended.) In fact, I may make that part of my e-mail signature block . . .

3) And possibly the most wonderous and exciting thing is that I have discovered that people on the DP list really do have a sense of humor!!!! Yeah!!!! This is a question I have brought up in my grove. The general consensus was that the DP folks might well not have a sense of humor. I'm glad we were wrong. It's a much nicer world to live in when people can laugh at themselves, life and even the gods. How very pagan that is!!

Thank you, Self Forged, for the link. :-)

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My dementedly-Fertile (note use of virtue) mind produced three limericks today. I don't know why. I couldn't really stop it from happening. I only demeaned the Dedicant List by posting 1 of them. From the lack of feedback, I am assuming the seriously-intellectual content of the list has numbed the readers to demented humor. I consider this a shame, as the world needs a bit more demented humor, but I will respect their desire to remain humor-free.

But this is my LJ, baby! And demented humor has not only a place here, but a home. And so, with no further ado, the limericks of the day. . . .

Manannan's Limerick

Here's to Manannan mac Lyr.
When he's at the gate we've got nothing to fear.
The bad ones stay out.
They can kick, scream and shout,
But Manannan won't let them get near.

--------------

The Call of the Gods

Some ex-Wiccans miss circle casting.
Some ex-Buddhists miss all the fasting.
But when Druid gods call,
Just like back in old Gaul,
There's no choice but to take up their tasking.

--------------------

Moderation

There once was a man of excess
Who soon found his life was a mess.
The moderate virtue
He found he could not do.
"Give me more," he demanded, "not less!"

I got the giggles earlier today over the question on the ADF Dedicant List regarding the correct form Irish Bards wrote their poetry in. I mean, I just kept thinking, "Well, limericks, obviously." It got worse when I wrote a couple limericks at lunch. They I could no longer stand it and posted one I wrote on the virtue or Moderation. I mean, that's kinda DP related, right?

How come every time I post something to that list I find myself wondering if they are going to kick me off?

Admittedly, this has nothing to do with the Dedicant Program, but . . . . I am sooo excited today that I can barely stand it. In just 5 days I finally move into my new house. After 7 months of being in one form of temporary housing or another, I will finally have all my stuff back with me. I will have a back yard again. I will have trees and shrubs and grass of my own again. I will have new gardens to plan and plant come spring. I will have walls to paint and probably even enough room (for the first time) to have an alter space that is just an alter space. I'll even have a fire place that actually burns wood! I feel so increadibly lucky, so blessed, as if I'm finally being rewarded for the stress, fear and pain of the last 7 months.

Instead of working on my DP tonight I watched "Snakes on a Plane". I didn't say this was a good decision. . .

But I'm heading off on a business trip tomorrow, so I should have lots of time to myself to ponder the Virtues and slog thru a bit more of the Mabinogi. I find the Mabinogi kind of depressing: stupid people doing stupid things and then acting surprised when the consequences of those actions rebound on them. Maybe that's the overall moral of the Mabinogi stories. I have to admit though, at titles go "Maboinogi" is a lot catchier than "Stupid, Mean People Reap What They Sow."

And with that eternal gem of wisdom I am off to bed.

Okay, here's what I wrote tonight. I wonder if it will sound like COMPLETE crap in the morning. . .

Perseverance

Integrity always makes me think of the Air Force, and at first, I thought that was the only Virtue they impressed on me. But once I really started thinking about Perseverance, I realized they drilled that one into me as well. They just didn’t call it that. They never said, “Perseverance is accomplishing the mission.” They just told us that our job was to accomplish the mission – regardless of what the mission was, or what it took to get the job done. You never know how critical your portion of the mission is. If you fail, for all you know, you may cause countless people to die. You may cause cities to fall. You may cause the war to be prolonged for months or years.

In the Air Force I supported KC-135 Stratotankers. KC-135s were the big flying gas stations created about 50 years ago to allow the gigantic B-52 Stratofortresses to get to Vietnam and back. It takes a lot of fuel to get a fully-loaded B-52 off the ground. Once airborne, they consume a lot of fuel, too. Being able to tank-up mid-flight greatly extended their reach. But that meant the KC-135 absolutely must be at the pre-determined location when the B-52 or other fighter or bomber aircraft needs it to be there. That was the mission of our aircrews: be at the re-fueling area at the scheduled time; off-load fuel as required.

At times, the KC-135s willingly gave so much fuel that they did not have enough to get home themselves. The aircraft are stripped down to the bare bones to allow them to hold as much fuel as possible. They have no offensive weapons – no guns or missiles. They have no defenses either – none of the chaff or flares other military aircraft are fitted with. KC-135s are slow, lumbering, huge, defenseless targets. Trying to land a wounded Stratotanker is fool-hardy. But trying to parachute from one is nearly suicide. For these reasons, tanker crews are nicknamed “TOADs”. That stands for “Take Off And Die.”

To perform a job like that – and like so many others in the military – it takes a particular mind-set. You have to fully-understand the possible consequences and make a conscious decision that regardless of what may happen, you will focus on the mission. Even if you are the only one left alive to carry it out, that is what you will do. Perseverance is what happens when you strip away every action and thought that does not contribute to achieving your objective and only perform those actions that bring you closer to the goal. Perseverance requires focus, dedication, pride, selflessness, and the deliberate decision to elevate the mission or goal above discomfort, fear, sorrow, and desires.

To me, that is truly perseverance: moving forward and if necessary giving your life for what you believe in. It’s making that decision in the safety of Lackland, Texas or Paris Island, South Carolina and holding it in your heart.

Perseverance isn’t always as dramatic and demanding as it is in the military. That’s why my first thoughts on the subject were that I hadn’t really had my Perseverance tested. I have though. Outside of the military, I have never once had a job that I was actually trained to do. But I always jumped in; worked my butt off; and ended up being darn good at what I did. It was never easy, but I pride myself in the success. There is one job, however, that seems to be a test of my Perseverance as deeply as the military: raising my son. It is a never-ending series of challenges and a goal that I have completely committed myself to. I cannot fail. I will not allow myself to fail. He is my mission now – and at nine years old, I already know that raising him well will take every ounce of Perseverance I have. And once again, as so often in my life, this is a job I have not been trained to do.

So, here I am. Sitting down to the computer to write something for the DP. Except I can't decide what to write. I should be working on the virtues. I've finished my first drafts of Wisdom, Piety, Vision, Courage, and Hospitality. That leaves Integrity, Perseverance, Moderation and Fertility.

Integrity always reminds me of the Air Force. They drilled that one into us: Integrity means doing the right thing even when no one is looking. Of course, that is the version that works best for their purposes. Still, it's not bad. I suppose I could compare and contrast that with other perspectives on the meaning of integrity. But that really doesn't hold much allure tonight.

Perseverance makes me think of drudgery -- grinding away, year after year. Perseverance is quite possibly the most problematic of the virtues for me as an individual. I'm goal oriented -- there is no doubt about that. However, I am somewhat restless in my hobbies or intellectual pursuits. I find something, dig deeply into it, understand it, and then move on to new challenges. Perseverance seems to imply that you hold on to things longer than I do -- remain interested longer and take it to Olympian levels. That's just not me. I learned to play a musical instrument so I could know how it is done and understand what it is like to do that. I learned to ride a horse so I would know how and own that experience. I didn't want to be a concert clarinetist or some kind of professional horsewoman.

Hmmmmm. Sounds like I have some thinking to do on the topic of Perseverance (what it means to me and in my life). Guess that's what I'll start on tonight.....

ADF Dedicant Requirement # 4: The Home Shrine

For years I didn’t have a personal shrine. Almost annually I would open a selection of Wicca-oriented books and read the list of requirements. Although I figured that I really ought to have a home shrine, I didn’t feel any real connection to the elaborate list of required objects and formal layout. A quick tally of the estimated cost of the required objects was equally disheartening. And thus, another year would pass without a shrine to call my own.

I read a book a few years back that changed how I felt about the home shrine. I’m almost afraid to admit the title, because so much of the book was fluffy. But possibly because of all the fluff, I finally really understood one concept: the alter layout, the tools, the colors, the scents, the stones, the herbs – everything was to help focus, sharpen and direct the energy of the individual. It’s the individual that makes the magick, connects with the divine and is the key. The rest of the trappings are aids, nothing more. You don’t need to be ruled by the shrine, a supplicant at a foreign alter. The shrine is yours, part of you. Nothing is mandatory. Objects that feel right belong there. Chuck out the list and use your intuition as a guide.

And so I began my search. I looked through things that I had saved over the years because they spoke to me: geodes that reminds me to look for beauty beneath a common surface; fools’ gold that reminds me that what at first glance seems valuable often isn’t; pottery shards from European ruins that make me feel connected over time; sea shells I collected remind me of the healing ocean and the wild power of nature; a metal replica of My Lady; a small wooden antelope that looked so proud, strong and free; and feathers still retaining the sense of freedom and altered perspective from the time when they had soared on the winds. Those first alters didn’t look at all like the ones in the books, but they resonated with me.

I was still not satisfied though. I wanted a nice statue of the Lord and Lady. And I looked and looked. I found all kinds, and some were nice, but nothing felt completely right. Last year, it occurred to me that as no one was selling any that were perfectly “me,” that perhaps I should try to make some. I hadn’t worked with clay in years, and hadn’t been particularly good at it when I did, but I decided to buy a box of Sculpey and give it a try. I made my little alter God and Goddess over the course of the next week or so. And I loved them immediately. They aren’t perfect by any means, but they are all me.

I was so proud of them that I brought them to my coven in Michigan and other people liked them, too. This amazed me. I told my husband and he suggested I make a set and sell them on eBay. And I did. And a couple bought them. And they love them too! How wonderful it is that something I made is sitting on someone’s alter, bringing them joy and making them feel closer to the God and Goddess.

After I became accustomed to having a permanent alter, I began to miss having one with me when I traveled for work. So I created a travel alter, which I usually take with me. It’s a work in progress. The smaller-scale God representation was not sturdy enough for traveling and one piece of him after another fell off. I still need to figure out a way to make him travel-proof.

Then I joined Five Oaks Grove. I reviewed what was on my alter with the traditional ADF alter and decided that I needed a little tree. I looked around for a tree and finally decided that if it was going on my alter then it would be best if I made it myself. So I got out my box of Sculpey and made a tree to suit my God and Goddess. But it looked (to my eyes) like a dead stick. So I decided to put leaves on it because my alter and my spirituality are about life and growth and death is a necessary part, but not the aspect I usually wish to dwell on.

When my animal spirit guide (who happens to be a bear) indicated that she would enjoy offerings, I made a tree stump for the alter to hold her offerings.

There is still more to do, of course. I just wish I knew how to put pictures into this journal entry so I could show the little travel alter and the stump I made for offerings to the bear lady...

Book Review: The Myth of Matriarchal Prehistory by Cynthia Eller

When the world was newer than it is today, the land, the waters, and the creatures all existed in synergy. The people lived in small groups, in harmony with the earth and with each other. Women gathered the fruits of the land and Men hunted for protein to supplement a diet that varied according to what the world provided as the wheel of the year turned. Women were leaders and teachers who cared for their groups as loving mothers would. Men held women in awe – as the embodiment of goddesses on earth – because they saw only that life sprang from women as it did not spring from men. For thousands of years, season after season, the women protected and cared for their people. Then, around 5000 or 6000 years ago, tragedy struck. A group of cruel, shortsighted, greedy men called the Kurgans made war upon and easily conquered the goddess-loving, women-revering, peaceful peoples of ancient Europe. The Kurgans dominated their conquered peoples and enforced their harmful, patrimonial ways. Men have been enslaving women and raping our mother Gaia ever since. We have never recovered and will not recover from the harm men do until we re-establish matriarchal ways and become the women we were meant to be.

Or so the story goes. That is the myth Cynthia Eller sets out to disprove in her book: The Myth of Matriarchal Prehistory. Eller argues that not only is the myth completely preposterous, but it is embarrassing and harmful to the feminist movement.

This myth, Eller maintains, fails the test of a “good myth” on just about every count. “. . . Contemporary myths … must be, at the least, plausible” (page 14). And unlike the myths of Jesus and Moses, no right-thinking person could even consider the myth of matriarchal prehistory plausible. But, Eller contends, desperate women in the feminist movement need it to be true, and so they overlook clear evidence to the contrary and misinterpret everything they see in archaeological excavations. Every rock cleft, mountain range and symbol becomes a vulva. Every drawing or carving of a woman becomes a goddess (and oh, yeah, the ones of men are just men.)

To make matters worse, Eller tells us, archaeologist Marija Gimbutas, has for years fed feminists a diet of unfashionable interpretations and theories. Eller says that she does not really understand the need in the feminist movement to bolster the myth with scientific evidence. Eller makes it clear that to her this is a never-ending source of painful embarrassment.

But the heart of this book (chapters six through eight) is filled with excellent detail and compelling arguments for why Eller feels this myth fails so miserably. The following are some examples of what I think are good points she makes:

• Men aren’t stupid. People observant enough to mark the movement of the sun and moon and starts were observant enough to notice that if no men were around, no women got pregnant. (Chapter 6)
• An analysis of which gender supplies the majority of the dietary calories doesn’t tell you who is in charge, it tells you who is doing or being forced to do the most work. (Chapter 6)
• Evidence from prehistoric graves shows weapons and physically damaged bodies pretty much as far back as we can locate. If the myth was right, we shouldn’t be finding weapons and weapon-inflicted wounds prior to 3000 – 5000 BCE. (Chapter 6)
• Just as today, a symbol can have one meaning in one location and another somewhere else. Global application of a single interpretation of a symbol will result in very misleading findings. (Chapter 7)
• Just as Sigmund Freud saw sex in every dream image, look hard enough for it and you can see goddess imagery in carving. (Chapter 7)
• Overall, there are more images produced of women today then there are of men, but it doesn’t mean women are venerated or that they hold an elevated status. Why would it automatically mean that for prehistoric times? (Chapter 7)
• Myths of matriarchal overthrow, such as the naming of Athens, are found globally. However, they serve the purpose of justifying the position of women, rather than faithfully detailing the events of the past. (Chapter 8)

I think Eller’s arguments on the points listed above are all solid. Overall, I agree with her that there was no global matriarchy to begin with and no systematic revolt by patriarchy. I agree that the desire of some feminists to have the myth be real has allowed them to see what they want to see and ignore what doesn’t fit their theory. Most people can be found guilty of that now and then. Perspective/desires color our vision and distort our perceptions. Eller set forth in her book to explain exactly how that was occurring in the case of this particular myth.

It is no accident that Eller chose the myth of Matriarchal Prehistory to grind. Why? She tells us that, too. Her story begins on page four, as a matter of fact. As a student she first heard the myth and was hurt by the derisive laughter of her fellow students. Later she tells us how she defended her position only to be told that she thought like a man. Then on the way back to her car she was ogled hooted at and felt victimized.

Eller’s first five chapters are filled with her own pain and sarcastic jibes at fellow feminists because they embarrass her and are ruining her feminist movement. She mocks and lambastes them because they so desperately need evidence to support the myth that they are willing to accept the insubstantial. While Eller is unquestionably accurate overall, I believe that at points Eller’s need to repudiate this myth caused her to behave in the same, self-deceptive manner as the feminists she so often ridiculed.

Aside from the unnecessarily sarcastic and mocking tone which I found rather distasteful, there are two points I have issues with. I believe Eller is self-deluded on 1) the plausibility of this myth versus other myths; and 2) the meaning of the goddess figures in the garbage dumps.

Eller contends that the myth of Matriarchal Prehistory is less plausible than that of Jesus or Moses or even a really good Urban Legend (p. 14). I disagree. As myths go, point-for-point, I fail to see how Matriarchal Prehistory is more fantastic than Jesus or Moses. Just as she picks apart this myth, others have picked apart the myths of Jesus and Moses. Pick long enough and hard enough at any of them and you can become overwhelmed by the flaws and the lack of concrete evidence. I argue that to Eller this myth may well seem more improbable simply because it is more loaded with personal pain.

Eller mentions throughout chapter seven that lots of carvings of women have been found in excavations of prehistoric sites, but many of them have been found in various stages of completion in the refuse areas. So, she asks sarcastically, if every carving of a woman was a goddess, then why are so many of them found in the trash dumps? On the face of it, that might seem like a valid point. But that presupposes a modern, western-style mentality that values the object above the act of creation. It is possible that the act of carving a goddess was in itself a form of worship. Just as the point of a Japanese Tea Ceremony is not a cup of tea, the point of the little figurines may not have been to have a finished figure for your alter. Carving a goddess could have been a form of meditation or a symbolic pilgrimage or the equivalent of saying The Rosary. But Eller does not consider these options – she just sees trash. In so casually disregarding this kind of possibility, I argue that she is projecting her beliefs as strongly as she accuses the matriarchal feminists of doing.

Nonetheless, her arguments when taken as a whole are solid. And if we do as she counsels and reject the myth as anything more that a very appealing story, where does that leave us? Eller would say that it leaves us in as good a position as ever. She repeats herself on the subject of not needing evidence – of not need the myth to be true. Let the myth be a myth and nothing more, she says. The future doesn’t have to look like the past to be a viable alternative to today.

And she is right. Although it is more comforting to take a path that has already been trod and follow the markings of those who have gone before, it is not necessary. Holding a vision and blazing a new trail to get there requires more strength, dedication and charisma, but that would be necessary anyway. We would not want to re-make the pre-historic matriarchal society. Who would really want to live that way? We would want to take that ideal and craft it to fit our lives today. So even if the myth were true, the reality of it in the future wouldn’t look exactly like the past anyway.

In summary: the myth of Matriarchal Prehistory is not true, but then it really doesn’t need to be.

Side note: While Eller provided a great deal of interesting information, the most fascinating tidbit was actually in her notes on page 230. I had always believed that Amazons were completely fabricated as a cautionary tale for women. For that reason, I found her comment that on the southern Russian Steppes, there have been some burial sites found where the bodies of women show evidence that they were warriors. While this is not the norm, even for the area, it is certainly worth a bit more investigation on my part.