Pagan Paths


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Paths Blogs

Specific paths such as Heathenism, blended traditions, polytheist reconstructionism, etc.

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This is one in a series of posts about finding the MMP deities in Minoan art. Find the whole series here.

Today we're going to focus on the Melissae. In MMP, we view them as bee-spirit goddesses who care for the spirits of the dead. As such, the bee and beehive are the most obvious symbols we associate with them. For instance, there's the famous Malia bee pendant:

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A very lovely friend gifted me with a jar full of eucalyptus bark.  A neighbour of hers had been clearing away some branches taken down in the wind and she rescued the bark from them.

Eucalyptus

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400 years ago today, the Mayflower dropped anchor in Cape Cod Bay, near what is now Provincetown. My 11th-great grandfather John Howland, a servant, was aboard, along with Elizabeth Tilley, whom he would eventually marry.

This is a source of academic curiosity to me, but certainly not a point of pride.

The establishment of Plymouth Colony was the beginning of an ongoing nightmare for indigenous people of the Northeast and beyond: a nightmare which has yet to end. I needn’t go into the details, but suffice to say that the vehement and intolerant flavor of Christianity the “Pilgrims” brought with them did not allow for the humanity of non-Christians: a position that persists today among many Americans.

400 years.

A year later, having been saved from starvation by the compassion and generosity of people whose land they were in the process of stealing, the surviving passengers of the Mayflower celebrated the first Thanksgiving. It was September, but we now celebrate our rosy-lensed version of this event in November.

400 years of murderous hell.

It’s hard to know how to end this.

Happy Thanksgiving?
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  • Anthony Gresham
    Anthony Gresham says #
    A Happy Harvest Home to you as well.

Posted by on in Paths Blogs

Before Tom's funeral sumbel, when I was arranging various statuary on the porch, I unpacked several boxes of Tom's religious items which I had packed at his house. I couldn't find the blue Freyr statue. A few weeks later there was a slight adjustment to the timeline. Then I found the blue statue, but it was Freya. Definitely had boobs. It also had a thick layer of dust, which I tried to wash off and discovered the blue was paint that just washed right off. I washed it until it turned into this, the design standing out in high relief. Then I thought, "Oh oh, I washed the goddess. The slaves of Nerthus who washed the goddess got drowned in a lake. Please don't drown me in a lake. Or the pool. Or..." To which the goddess replied that she would not drown me and I already survived drowning in the pool. Which was true, but I never thought of it that way. I fell in an aging but relatively able woman and came out an athritic old crone, so, I guess that was my shamanic near-death experience? Hmm. It didn't seem very spiritual and I'm pretty sure all I really experienced was fear. But anyway, here's my new Freya statue. To be handled with gloves on only because that blue stuff still comes off on everything.

See the image on this link because I can't upload pics to my blog right now for an unknown reason:

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Navigate 2020 Chaos with Loki

This year's world events seem so random it's like being a character in a role playing game subject to the dreaded random encounter dice. People have been making memes all year about the latest random event and "did you have x on your 2020 bingo card?" Usually when someone suggests a particular event is chaos I reflexively try to explain why it's actually the function of order, that is, the function of some understandable process in which causes lead to effects, much like the heathen concept of wyrd and orlog. This year, though, it really does appear to be full of totally random, causeless events all over the world. There is a popular theory circulating on social media that explains the phenomenon, sometimes shared seriously and sometimes humorously. It references CERN, the Mandela Effect, and a small, possibly curious or mischievous, weasel.

Assuming you're a regular human and not a time mage or a god or one of the physicists planning to crack open reality and punch through to another universe, how can you travel through this time, relentlessly moving forward one minute per minute whether you will or you nil? How better than to invoke the protection of a god known for working through chaos to bring about a better world?

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A Rune for Samhain

Over the past year, my friend Darcy and I have been continuing to work away on our “prairie rune” project.  Starting from a bioregional adaptation of the Anglo-Saxon futhorc, or rune alphabet poem, we have been sharing reflections in poetry and prose as a way of gently unfolding some of the spiritual-cultural-linguistic mysteries hidden within each rune.

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Death, the Creator

 

Classic depictions of Death personified include skeletons carrying an hourglass or a scythe, mummified persons extending leathery hands, armies of skeletal warriors mowing down the living, or Pale Horsemen laying waste to kings, priests and children, as in the Coleman-Waite "Rider" Tarot deck.

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