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.

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On Wicca as a Gateway Paganism

Some of us have the very great good fortune to fall in love for the first time, marry, and live (more or less) happily thereafter.

Many of us (most of us, I suspect) are not so lucky.

No, we crawl off into a corner to pout and lick our wounds.

And then (assuming no real abuse was involved) with time we do manage to heal and go out to meet other loves and try again. And sometimes, then, with luck and perseverance we do manage to find that happily-thereafter person.

It seems to me that we can then spend the rest of our lives feeling angry, hurt, and resentful that that first lover wasn't everything that we needed her to be.

Or we can be grateful to him for teaching us (flaws and all) about love in the first place.

 

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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.

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