Prayer and Patronage

The thread that holds the beads together is weak. The strand is not long enough to wear as a necklace and not short enough to wear as a bracelet. But it is nice to hold the beads in my hand. I suppose the crafting of the beads is an offering, but I think of the act of praying with them as my main gift.

It took a long time for me to call what I do prayer. In my earliest days of polytheism, I associated prayer so much with my Catholic upbringing that I disliked the term. At the same time, I reassured my parents that magic was really just a kind of prayer. Since then I have come to understand that prayer and magic aren't equivalent, and that it isn't as simple as "Christians pray, pagans do magic."

Because I am a pagan, and I pray.

I pray in desperation. I pray in moments of joy. I pray when I want things, even if what I want is just to get closer to my gods and my ancestors. It is something I do often.

So today I made a set of beads for prayer. Prayer to one who has come into and out of my life often. It is perhaps regrettable that the string is probably not strong enough to survive much wear and tear. I cannot imagine myself carrying them with me into battle. But perhaps it is also a reminder that walking Her path is not all about war.

I used to be preoccupied with the idea of patronage. I wanted that kind of special relationship with a deity so badly that I felt that strongly about every deity that I met. Having a goddess directly tell me that that was not the nature of our relationship (and also that I wasn't ready to walk that path, anyway) altered my perception of what patronage was all about. I didn't realize how much having a patron involves having them work through you. No matter what you do, you are doing their work. At least, that is how I have experienced this.

But just because I do not have a relationship of patronage with Her does not mean She is not important to me. It does not mean that I don't feel a rush of emotion whenever She is honored. It does not negate the sense of kinship I feel whenever I am with Her people.

I have a feeling She is returning to my path again. Perhaps we will walk together a while. I'm not sure how long, and I'm not sure how complicated it might get. But through it all, I will remember to pray for Her guidance.

On Wisdom

Today my tea gave me advice.

It was a sachet of Yogi Tea, and printed on the tag were these words: "Knowing others is smart, knowing yourself is wise."

This fits remarkably well with what I was thinking about the virtue of wisdom. It occurred to me when I sat down to write this that wisdom is something we often think comes from people who have lived longer lives than us, or who have had greater spiritual experiences, or a better education. It is rare that we acknowledge ourselves as a potential source of wisdom.

I have found that wisdom does come from experience, and often from people who have more experience than I do. But I have also found myself capable of producing more wisdom than I ever expected. As a young pagan, I have found that sometimes I lean too heavily on the elders of my community, not trusting my own wisdom because I haven't cultivated it. I haven't always put into practice the wisdom that bubbles up from inside of me like water in a spring, and that's a shame.

In addition to studying the nine ADF virtues, I also study a series of virtue pairs that I created, inspired by myths about Artemis. One such virtue pair is pride and humility. While I believe that pride and humility are a pair of traits that need to be balanced, I want to focus on pride for the purpose of this essay. To me, finding wisdom in yourself requires appropriate pride.

In the CedarLight Grove Mentor Manual, wisdom is defined as "simply the ability to know.  Knowing implies an understanding that exists beyond learning as the ability to recognize." Knowing also implies a degree of pride in your ability to understand. At the grove, I have witnessed many members acting with wisdom and appropriate pride when they took on roles in ritual. Seeing this wisdom in action has left an impression on me. Wisdom does not always have to come from hard lessons. Sometimes it comes from the gentle laughter of the divine. And while I have also seen members of the grove acting with wisdom in times of discord, it is during celebrations of the kindred that I see the wisdom the most.

It would be highly convenient if I received a bit of insight like this every day simply by drinking a cup of tea. I'm grateful for this happy coincidence. It has given me a moment to reflect on wisdom, and how I can cultivate wisdom in my life.