Structure, Grapefruit and Fluff: Why Are We So Bothered?
It’s 9 a.m. at the Offices of ‘Astral Intervention’ located in a nice sunny spot of the Summerlands. Thankfully for the Goddess and the God, today is a rather quiet day. Not like last Tuesday when there was so much paperwork the Goddess decided to manifest herself into several females from the Greek pantheon, only to result in Athena and Artemis having a full-scale-thunder-and-lightening-my-way-or-the-highway bout of will over the spelling of ”Magic’, and Aphrodite not doing a damn thing for spending the day fixing her hair.
No, today is quite quiet. It’s the God’s turn on Ritual Observation, whilst the Goddess handles prayer. The first item appears in the God’s ‘in’ tray, and he glances at it quickly.
“Welsh Gardenarian coven doing ritual for a member to attract love to her.”
The Goddess looks up from her desk where she is filing the first prayers of the morning under their subject and selective deity, and looks over the top of her half-moon spectacles.
“So not a direct love spell?” she asks, as a small pile of papers suddenly appears in her ‘in’ tray. “No names used?”
“Nope. These love spell toe the line sometimes.”
“No sneakily trying to specify a person in there?”
“Alright, let it slide. Maybe a ten months in the pot for being cheeky?”
With her conformation the God takes a large green stamp marked ‘GRANTED’ and punches the paper with it. He files it in the ‘successful spells’ cabinet under 10 months-this being the time it takes to have full effect.
The Goddess busies herself sorting through prayers as the God rolls his eyes at the next piece of paper he’s picked up. He drops it without hesitation into the waste paper beside him, which hurriedly spontaneously combusts.
I’m not into rigid structure. This is why I’m for the most part Solitary and eclectic, and I steer away from following anyone’s instructions to the letter. Structure and obsession in doing what every else was doing is exactly what I wanted to flee from all my life in Mainstream religions!
So here follows a mix of satire and my own views on a few aspects of Witchcraft. I hope it makes you laugh, and makes you think.
“I’ve got a bogie in the wire!” The Goddess says loudly, and the God maneuvers himself on his wheeled chair over to her desk.
“Well, the prayer means well, but the dude’s praying with his hands together like those damn Christians.”
They both shake their heads.
“Sounds fluffy to me.” He says, flicking his wrist, and a clipboard appearing with a small crack in his hand. He idly flicks through the sheets of paper attached to it. “What’s his name? Is he on our fluff list?”
“Marcus Jameson, Europe-UK-England-Midlands-Birmingham, 45 Sable Street. Repeat offender if I’m not mistaken.”
“Yup.” The God confirms, checking a tick again his name.
Many Pagans I’ve met seem to be petrified that what they’re doing bares any similarity with mainstream religion, most evidently Christianity. A Pagan stranger at a shop recently chastised me because they overheard me talking about my mealtimes and that I include a prayer beforehand. It seems this was too much like the concept of Christian ‘grace’ for them to think it ‘Pagan’. But surely thanking the divine for their great bounty is more Pagan that it is Christian?
Just think of the Cake/Wine rites so many of us use in ritual. When I calmly mentioned this they actually snorted. There’s nothing wrong with holding your hands in any fashion when you pray, calling it a prayer, singing songs together, and getting together and having a good time.
“I’ve got a protecting ritual coming in from Wiccans not wearing black.” the God pipes up suddenly.
“What? I’m sure everyone who’s read any kind of literature knows they need to wear black.” The Goddess says exasperatedly. “Their clothes should be 90% black, the female eyeliner at least 5mm thick around the eyes, and we encourage the larger pentacles, right?”
“Sure do. Bloody Wiccans.” The paper is quickly incinerated.
This is a common niggle of many of use. While black may be a good color for its energy-absorbing properties, black is not stitched to ‘Witch’. There is NOTHING you have to wear to be a ‘true’ Witch/Pagan. But on the other end of the scale, people who chose to wear ‘stereotypical Witch’ fashion are going to get it in the neck for being sheep. Appearances do make an impression, but it seldom the right one.
“Hmmm.” the Goddess murmurs as she flicks through several piece of pink paper.
“What is it?”
“I’ve got a daily devotional, a nice enough eclectic, who I’ve been quite good to for the past year, but I’ve just realized she always pronounces athame differently. A-tha-me, A-th-ame….”
“Send her a spot of bad luck, she’ll get the picture.” The God says offhandedly, immersed in his papers.
Does it really matter how we pronounce certain things, if we know what each other are talking about? And what’s with this obsession with finding new and strange ways of spelling ‘magic’? I personally don’t suppose the divine cares how we spell it.
The God’s eyes widen as he scans with amazing speed through a pile of papers several feet high.
“Oh my Goddess!”
“Yes?” She raises an eyebrow.
“These are from a set of Covens who don’t rhyme their verses!”
The Goddess gasps.
“Well, you know what to do, dear.”
“Sure do.” With that the God forces the large pile to burst into flame.
“Not on the desk!” the Goddess shouts.
Now, this one I understand could be met with some criticism, but I don’t believe a spell is any less effective because it doesn’t rhyme, or it doesn’t include bad Old English (the, thou, ye, -est/-eth). I don’t believe my magical work is any less worthy because I don’t give it a rigid structure. I’m sure the divine conscious likes a break from all that sweet poetry.
I suppose all I’m trying to do here is to make a point: The craft is your own. If you’re told something, or read something that doesn’t fly with you, don’t do it! Do it the way you believe is right for you. If you’re spelling magic with a ‘Z’ in it, pronouncing athame like ‘grapefruit’, or wearing an Elmo t-shirt to ritual, don’t sweat it!
It is the intent that matters.