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.
The Young Elders of Paganistan
When you've been doing something for six months, and everyone around you has only been doing it for five, that makes you the elder.
Gods help us all.
That was the situation back in the early days of Paganistan. At the time, most of us hadn't been doing this for very long, but the fact that we'd been doing it longer than anyone else made us the de facto elders of the community.
Incredibly enough, the community survived anyway. It not only survived, but flourished.
You learn fast when you have to. When people around you expect you to be wise, it's surprising how wise you can actually be.
Well, sometimes.
It may well be that you yourself are in this same position: a premature elder in a young community.
Good luck. You're going to need it. You're going to make your share of mistakes. Persevere. You're wiser than you know.
The other day I saw myself respectfully referred to in local print media as a “community elder.”
I won't say that it didn't feel good. To have watched, over the course of the past five decades, our community reconstituting itself—not always consciously—along the lines of traditional communities everywhere, has been a lesson in the resilience and perennial nature of the Old Ways, and of the incredible potential of the New Old Ways.
So be assured, O Young Elders everywhere: there's hope.
Believe me: if the Old Ways could survive us, the Young Elders of Paganistan, they can survive anything.
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