A couple years ago I wrote 7 Ways to Enjoy a Sex-Free Beltane. Weirdly, that post did not become the runaway viral sensation I was anticipating. This year, though, things will be different. Read more...
A couple years ago I wrote 7 Ways to Enjoy a Sex-Free Beltane, in honor of all those single and/or disinterested folks out there who were looking to celebrate the reason for the season without necessarily having to "get down," "jump on it" or "funk it up." Weirdly, that post did not become the runaway viral sensation I was anticipating. This year, though, things will be different. If there's one thing people like more than having sex, it's avoiding death and thoughts thereof...
In light of recent events and discussions, I wanted to share this essay as a robust defense of the sacred value of art, poetry and satire within both our theological explorations and our political discourse. It is my view that ambivalence itself can be sacred, for it opens us to authentic experiences of others which may be unexpected or challenging, and so we can appreciate this ambivalence and the art forms that express it as powerful and meaningful aspects of our relationship with the numinous, and with each other.
As I continue to work at my on-going exploration of anthropocentrism and its influence on modern Pagan theology and ritual, time passes here in the damp and half-wild city of Seattle as winter slow-dances with spring. This past weekend, we were blessed with a dusting of snow, followed by the hushed drizzle of overnight rain. The daffodils in the front yard are lifting up their little green hands in prayer, and the neighborhood hummingbird perches as sentinel on the highest twig of the lilac tree, flashing his breast in the sun. And everywhere, the damp plush moss! It's that time of year when I am restless to be outside... and sometimes restlessness gives way to snark. So while I'm off wrestling the hobgoblins of cabin fever, dear reader, here is a touch of silliness for you to enjoy.
Just in time for the summer solstice, I've designed a new t-shirt for the Hipster Pagan store. (Wait — you didn't know there was a Hipster Pagan store? That's okay. It's pretty obscure. Nobody shops there anymore since it sold out and went mainstream. After all, hipster jokes are so over.) You can get the tee here. Or browse the store. I'll be uploading the Hipster Greenman design onto several other non-wearable items (including posters and, of course, coffee mugs — every Hipster Pagan needs their coffee mug when they're making their daily morning libations to the Goddess Caffeinia).
I'm working hard to make Hipster Paganism a thing. Now that Pagan means Wiccan, and polytheist means Pagan, it's only a matter of time before the People We're Embarrassed By start calling themselves polytheists and recons. (It's already starting.) I for one am embracing this endless cycle by bringing "Pagan" back... but in, like, an ironic way. Read... Things Hipster Pagans Say
In my latest post over on No Unsacred Place, I explore the meaning of pantheistic faith in the face of the "hour of adversity" and the role that satire and deep play have in helping us through times of spiritual crisis and community strife. How does pantheism cope with the "hour of adversity" and the inescapable reality of physical death? What can the bardic tradition of satire in Celtic mythology and folklore tell us about how we can confront a loss of faith in our spiritual lives as well as in our political leadership?
I love when life gives me what I like to call "xkcd Moments."
See, I've been meaning to migrate the archives of my former Meadowsweet & Myrrh site on Blogger over to this domain, but website design is really only something I do with any gusto when the
obsession mood strikes me. So there the old girl languishes, attracting the occasional lost traveler and a whole lot of spambots. Which brings me to this morning, when I opened my email inbox to discover that someone had left this comment...
Just in case yesterday's post was a bit too serious for you — how about we lighten things up a bit? Every year, I manage to get this stuck in my head! A fantastic song by Jonathan Coulton about the coming of spring.... if you know what I mean. ::nudge::nudge::wink::wink:: Click to watch.