There it goes again. That blank spot that was once an idea for a blog post. That brief moment of distraction just long enough for me to lose the flow of words that were only a few short hours ago percolating in my preoccupied mind as I scramble around looking for something to fix the kiddos for lunch, hunt for a diaper, and scold the dog for barking at every single person who just happens to be walking down the sidewalk today.
It’s been a while, a long while since I’ve tried to come up with a post. I think about it, admonish myself for not having written a post sooner, ponder on what to write, and finally I had something. So today, I finally had a blogging idea that seemed worthy of sharing, and now it’s gone. Let’s see if sitting here typing as I watch my beautiful daughter doze off in her high chair will jog loose those rusty creative gears long enough to come up with something inviting, inspiring, and indeed a break in the long fog of my absence as a blogger.
This business of being a witch, it has a few quirks for me at times. Introducing my children to paganism outside of the things that come most naturally such as spending time in the woods, has been a question to me. At what age will they sit long enough to really process the concepts and teachings enough to make them their own?
I know there are many folks within the pagan community who believe that spirituality should be something that a person explores as an adult rather than have been raised within a certain tradition. I had once felt that I was open to the children being given the ideologies of nearly any faith. While I would like them to know about all faiths on an academic level, I intend to raise them within the spirals of my own spiritual path. My sons are now at an age where they are fairly well ready to begin learning about paganism with some degree of understanding as opposed to following along because, “This is what we do.”
A couple of weeks ago, my oldest son shared with me that he had watched something that really frightened him, and it struck up a conversation between us about what I believed in. I speak fairly candidly with my sons about anything they have questions about, especially if it has something to do with a pagan concept, or a misconception that they’ve been exposed to. Teaching moments are a commodity that I’d not trade for the world with my kids. It feels as though the time in which they are receptive to what I have to share with them is limited. Soon enough they will be eager to venture out on their own to find out what’s there and what I have to offer will hold less if any value to them.
This teaching moment with my bright eyed almost 8 year old opened my eyes to a need that wasn’t being met; an understanding that while I have tried to infuse it into his brilliant little inquisitive mind, he needed something more. He and his brother really needed something tangible to help them understand that Goddess is within us all and we are all a part of her. I found that tangible lesson within Oberon Zell’s Millennium Gaia.
She’s sat upon my altar for 14 years, a gift from my first mentor, an amazing representation of the living Goddess and her interconnectedness to all life. I gently pulled her down from the altar in my kitchen, and fussed briefly over a couple of spots in which many trips moving and being jostled around has caused her damage that I’d not noticed until that moment. I called my sons into the kitchen to sit at the table with me and really took some time to look her over.
I asked the boys to look at her legs and tell me what they saw. At first the clever little monkeys both said, “Wow, she has a lot of tattoos.” I laughed and the asked them to look harder. Pointing out the images of marine life both prehistoric and contemporary that adorns the length and girth of each leg. I turned her so that they could look at what made up Her glorius mane, leaves, vines, DNA strands, and asked them what they saw. Entangled in her hair are animals, insects and on the very top, where her crown chakra could be found a tiny human child with the world in its hands. We talked about each of these things. They gently traced their fingers around sharks, lions, dinosaurs and dragonflies as we discussed that She was a part of all life, and that we are all a part of her. Mind you, I am not Dianic by any means, this was however a lesson that I’ve been working toward instilling into my children since they were old enough to go traipsing off into the woods with me. I don’t think they really grasped it, until they were able to see exactly what I was trying to say. It was too big, and this symbol of Goddess so beautifully created finally offered an imagery that they could wrap their heads around and think about.
This opportunity hasn’t slipped by without further contemplation. We’ve done a few small things, that really aren’t so small. A dream catcher hung above their bed to capture the bad dreams and let in the good ones was in order, and a tiny statue of Bast now sits in their room as a protector from all things scary, and introductions to the Gods and Goddesses are being made to the oldest boy with books from the library that give him a taste for some of the pantheons of ancient times. Currently, he’s learning about Egytian pantheons, which is fitting given the introduction of Bast to their bed room and the close affinity my husband has for all things Egyptian.
This Winter Solstice will find their stockings hung and stuffed with goodies, toys will be tucked under the tree as you might find under any other tree at this time of year, but along with the toys and games my guys will find their first books introducing them to pagan concepts and ideologies. I am incredibly excited to watch them explore earth centered spirituality with tools that are geared specifically to engage their minds and imaginations. I am excited to hear their thoughts and ideas about what they read and explore. I am excited to see these beautiful souls become empowered with their own sense of connection and magick.
Writer’s Block broken, Blessed be to you all, and have a beautiful Solstice.