Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth

In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.

  • Home
    Home This is where you can find all the blog posts throughout the site.
  • Tags
    Tags Displays a list of tags that have been used in the blog.
  • Bloggers
    Bloggers Search for your favorite blogger from this site.
  • Login
    Login Login form

Athletics of the Spirit

Classical Greek society (article) | Khan Academy

In ancient Greece, when an athlete was chosen to represent his city at, say, the Olympic Games, he first went to the temple.

There the priest would perform certain rites of purification and consecration. Then he would tell him: Remember, your body now belongs to the god.

When you give something to a god, of course, you want it to be the very best that you can possibly give.

 

So it is with spiritual athletics. I spoke the other night with the personifying priest for the upcoming 2021 Midwest Grand Sabbat.

There's a regimen to giving your body to a god. (Never doubt that the god, of course, gives back in kind.) Diet, exercise: in all ways, mentally and physically, you have to hone, to pare, to mold yourself into the best you of which you are capable.

I've done it myself. It's grueling work, especially for us over-fed and under-exercised denizens of the so-called 21st century. It's hard to give yourself to the hunger, even when that hunger joins you to a god.

I do my best to be a good trainer, to correct and suggest and encourage. Reflecting, I realize that I also have one other thing to offer here.

After all, I'll have my own role to play when—after our collective annus horribilis—the tribe of Witches ecstatically foregathers—at last, at last—to enact the rites that renew the life of the People.

So the two of us will train together. Somehow—I'm not quite sure how, but it does—shared endeavor makes training easier, even at a distance.

 

From now to the end of July, we'll hunger together: hunger for the god.

Hunger together, and watch the superfluous melt away like snow.

 

For Frebur,

tànaiste

 

Paul Redux: The Gospel of Jesus Christ in the Greco-Roman World: Ancient  Athletic Training: Regimes, Dieting, and Sports Complexes

Last modified on
Poet, scholar and storyteller Steven Posch was raised in the hardwood forests of western Pennsylvania by white-tailed deer. (That's the story, anyway.) He emigrated to Paganistan in 1979 and by sheer dint of personality has become one of Lake Country's foremost men-in-black. He is current keeper of the Minnesota Ooser.

Comments

Additional information