A Pagan Partnership

Throughout the month of November, the women of eWitch and I will be sharing articles and anecdotes about our personal relationships and how they are impacted by our spirituality.  Since getting back into writing, I have wanted to broach this subject, but have never found the time.  I look forward to reading what our other eWitches have to say about their own relationships.

The perfect place for me to start discussing this topic is with my own marriage.  Mr. Sparrow (aka Danzig) and I have been married for four years.  We have no children at this time.

Danzig is a third generation American.  His great-grandparents came to the United States from Poland and brought their beliefs with them.  While they openly practiced Catholicism, they practiced Witchcraft from their home country in secret.  Danzig had the pleasure of learning from his great-grandmother before she passed away.

I was raised in a Protestant family that has been in America for generations.  My lineage can be traced mostly back to Norway (yay Vikings!) on my Dad’s side, but I have some family that originated in Wales and Germany.  Religion was not consistently a big deal in our home growing up unless my Grandmother, who is Baptist, was around.  I was programmed from a young age that Witchcraft was Evil and that anyone not saved by Jesus Christ was going to Hell.  Oh, how far I have come!

When I met Danzig in 2004, I was coming out of what turned out to be the darkest time of my life.  I was furious at everyone, especially myself.  I didn’t know what to believe and had pretty much shunned Christianity.  There was a gaping hole in my heart that begged to be filled.

Little by little, Danzig introduced me to his Earth-based path.  I soaked the information up like a sponge, quickly beginning my own research into the various practices and paths.  He taught me how to meditate, how to cast a circle, and the basics of protection magick.  He is the one who laid the foundation for my future as a Pagan and Witch.

That being said, I have a unique and wonderful spiritual relationship with Deity that includes my husband.  We each have our own path, but are respectful of the other’s beliefs and work together to honor the Divine.

Next week I will share some ideas of how couples can practice their spirituality together and grow closer in doing so.  Be sure to stop by my blog, The Balanced Witch, to check out the “366 Days of Magick” that is going on all this year.  I also have a giveaway going on now!

Tea Under a Halloween Moon Blog Party!

I hope I'll see everyone tomorrow at the "Tea Party Under a Halloween Moon" blog party hosed by Anna from "The Frosted Petunias" Blog. If you attended the "Practical Magic" blog party then you know how fantastic this party tomorrow will be. If you've never been to a blog party, be sure to check out all the blogs on Anna's blog and then you can visit and see all the wonderful ways magick is going to be celebrated. I'll be having a giveaway on my blog, "The Year of the Cats," so please stop by to drink some magickal concoctions as we visit some family members who are just dying to meet you. Oh, wait, I forgot, they're already dead... I invited a dear friend of mine to put us all in the mood. See you tomorrow.

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The Gift Of Gardening

In some ways this is my favorite time of the year. I love the way that life seems to spring forth all over. And best of all it is the time to start planting. Whether it is flowers, vegetables, trees, or any other I love the process of gardening. I have always loved to have my hands in the dirt. I do not know how to explain it yet it gives me such a sense of energy. Vincent is constantly telling me to wear gloves while I work outdoors, yet for some reason I do not enjoy it as much. I want the feel of the earth right next to me. To cover my hands seem to somehow diminish the full effect it has. It was my grandfather and grandmother who gave me my love for gardening. I remember there garden with such fond memories. I remember my grandfather in his overalls, pulling an onion from the ground and taking the first layer off then giving it to me to eat; its sweet taste feeling me with joy. My favorite gifts from them: a pint jar filled with small sweet red onions. I can not to this day eat, cook, or plant an onion without thinking of them.

My grandmother gave me the gift of preparation of the harvest. By watching her I learned tricks on cooking, storing, and also drying. Unfortunately these days a root cellar is not an easy thing to find so I have to at times improvise. Still I hold some of her ways and recipes close to heart. She did things the old way, from start to finish. She showed me how to utilize all parts and have less waste. She taught me simplicity. She taught me her secrets and told me stories of how many of the items she used to cook with could be used for other things as well.

Their driveway into their small stone house by the railroad tracks was of crescent shape. In front of her home was a stone flower bed with a stone archway. In the summer it was lined with a multitude of color. Such flowers as pansies, asters, and violets lined the borders. Mint, Sage, Lavender, and Rosemary could also be found. I remember other small flowers that grew off to the side of her home near an old cellar that housed the water pump. This area always had the appearance of being neglected yet she would wander through it on occasions bringing back a handful of treasures. She called it her wild garden. I later learned that this was where her wild herbs grew. In it grew Mustard, Poke, Garlic,Marjoram, Lemon Balm, Thistle and so many others.

Also in their yard stood a stone wash house and a small stone storage shed. Further back a chicken yard and a large Mulberry Tree. I remember gathering Mulberries each summer; the bottom of our feet stained with the color red and purple. Grandma would tell us the tree was a watcher and guarded the home from lightning. As she would spread the jam made of its fruit on our toast she would tell us it would likewise guard us and make us strong.

In my yard today many of the same things grow as did in theirs. My Rosemary sits at the southeast corner on my house. I have planted more this year as I simply love its aroma. I credit my grandma with giving this love to me. She would slip a sprig of it under my pillow as I slept on the sofa outside her bedroom, telling me that it would keep me safe and make the bad dreams stay away. I would go to sleep with its fragrance surrounding me. Sweet Basil and Mint are also a part of my garden although I have them planted in large pots that I bring into the house as the year begins to get colder. I love having them fresh all year round. My Apple Mint makes a lovely cup of tea and is quite useful when I have a bit of an upset stomach. Simply chewing on a leaf lends the same effect. As for the Basil, it lends a wonderful taste to many of my dishes. And as my grandma would say, if there is a basil plant in the home, there will always be peace in the home. Sage and Lavender can also be found growing. I have an array of Sages, from blue to white and more.

Also in my yard are the multitude of wild herbs which seems to multiply as the years pass. At the moment the bottom of my yard towards the woods is covered with a multitude of wild flowers. Lambs ear, prairie clover, asters, dandelions, and more. Although I know that soon I will need to trim it, I leave it for a while as I love to see its color each morning.

At the time I did not realize the wisdom in so many of the words she spoke to me. I took for granted at times the gift that their environment gave to me. As time has passed, I find myself thinking back to my times with my grandparents, especially my grandmother. She is with me always. I feel her presence with me often, especially while I tend my own garden or am busy in my kitchen. She offers me remembrance of her wisdom to aid in my talents. The place they once lived has long been gone. There is no trace of their small stone home or other buildings. The garden area and Mulberry and Cherry trees have since been cut down. Yet still I can visit them anytime I please. I need only close my eyes and remember. I need only sit on the ground and feel the dirt fall through my fingers. I need only stand in my kitchen and cut my own herbs taken from my garden. They are both with me still.

The Spiritual Evolvement of Me

What exactly is "coming out of the closet"? I guess it is anytime when one feels that their actions or behavior is such that it would embarrass or shame them if those that they are closet to (such as family and friends) knew about it. At least that is what it all boils down too. I understand the need to stay hidden in the closet. Standing up for your beliefs, no matter what they are, can be a very difficult and sacrificing action. Such a decision can change your life overnight simply by the admission or revelation of what you have been keeping secret and behind the closet door.

In regards to my own experience of “coming out” in regards to my spiritual beliefs I am not really sure if I ever would say I was in the closet; although that in itself may be a manner that I use to disguise the fact that I was. I grew up in a small rural town in Oklahoma. The Christian faith was second nature. Much of this was due to the fact that it was rural and there was always a loss for something to do. Although our town held only a population of maybe 1500 there were a total of seven church denominations represented. I was not born or raised in what was and still is called a “Christian home”. My mother was a native of East Germany and after her escape to Berlin; she met my father and eventually came to America. She was raised with the strict regimen of the Lutheran church yet since that was one sect that was not represented in our town she refused to take us. I remember her dislike of the social manner Americans put into church. It was not a place to show off what new clothes or shoes you may have purchased the week before she would always say.

Yet I loved church. I can honestly say that I attended 6 of the 7 churches which stood in our town. It was the Catholic Church which was the one which I refrained from. Yet it was the Catholic church that later led to the beginning of my questions. Seeing a small rural Catholic cemetery one evening driving home I marveled at the statue of Jesus and the lights that shone on it. I told my mother that when I passed I wanted to be buried there. She quickly informed me that this was impossible as I was not Catholic and only Catholics could be there. This answer did not settle well with me thus I started my quest.

Being a child who often sat quietly in the corner and observed her surroundings, I took everything in. I learned at an early age the meaning of the word hypocrite although I had not even heard the word yet. It was something that confused me as a young child. Yet with a dysfunctional home life I had no one to really explain its meaning or reason to me. There were times in my younger life that I was angry for this absence yet when I look back today I am glad. For this is the reason I sought so hard for the answers I am still finding today.

Even when I was quite active in the church, I was still somewhat controversial as my views rarely were toe to toe with those of the denomination I was with at the time. I think that is why I sought so much to find answers. I believed in prayer and still do. And the answers I was getting were not what the other “people” were telling me or attempting to make me believe. For something as important as my spiritual life, I was determined to keep looking until I found that which filled me.

I think it was when I divorced in 97 that I truly began to see the need to look elsewhere. Here I was at a time when there was nothing I could have used more than support and encouragement and I received none. The women of the church shunned me, as I was now a single woman. Rumors and gossip ran rampant and these high and mighty church going individuals followed it with eagerness much like a starving dog to a fresh piece of meat. It was not that I was alone and harbored ill feelings. I had been alone before and listened to the quiet whispers that you hear when you actually really do sit and be still. It was the contradictory in their words and actions that hurt and still even at the age of 35 confused me.

I had always had an interest in the pagan side of religion yet growing up as I did it was not necessarily an option. The internet was not around yet to explore and I daresay the library would have any books that may help out. There were also the constant teachings of my Sunday school teachers; the fact that anyone who even remotely dabbled in such evil would surely be tossed to the far corners of Hell and live in eternal damnation. Yet it still always lingered in the far corners of me, waiting until I finally was at a point where I could embrace its calling.

I have to say that my walk has probably become a run since I rediscovered my husband. With his support and encouragement I have been able to trust myself more and flourish in what I feel most comfortable in. I still very much feel like I am a babe in paganism, yet I have never felt more at home. I do not shout to everyone what I believe, however I was never that kind of person. It is known to most of my family and friends that I am no longer in the church and that my practices have changed. I am open to all who question this area of me yet have not specifically gone to any for the specific reason of telling them. I have always felt that whatever the spiritual path you choose it is a personal journey and unless YOU choose to share there is no reason to. So to the question as to whether or not I have come out of the closet; I think my closet door was always open or at least cracked.

Falling Out of the "Broom Closet"

I was very unsure about this path when I first started to read about it.  It called to me, but everything I had been taught about Witches and Paganism made them sound evil.  I didn’t want to go to Hell or be left behind during the rapture as my Baptist Sunday school teachers had warned.  Still I felt pulled in that direction.  Cautiously, I started very slowly by participating on the Internet, hiding behind my first magical name for anonymity.

Once I started to understand the path, my pace picked up and soon I was running, finding everything that I could about my favorite topics.  My first mentor, who would later become my husband, taught me how to cast the circle, research and protect myself.  Things were great, but I really needed more structure to my training.  I also wanted to belong to some sort of group.

When I first found the Family Wiccan Traditions International it was growing slowly.  The idea of practicing spirituality as a family unit was something that we already did and it was exciting to find others who shared our philosophy.  Within a few months of joining the organization I was asked to serve on the Board of Directors as the Web Communications Weaver.  It was then that I really started going by my real name in the Pagan community.  This was my first step to coming out of the “broom closet”.

My husband’s parents and my two sisters were aware of my path, but that was it as far as family went.  Not much later my youngest sister actually took up her own path and is now currently studying as a solitary.  My parents and Grandmother were to be kept in the dark because I did not think they would understand or be supportive.

The job market in Ohio started to take a turn for the worse so my husband and I moved back to Texas.  We lived with my parents while we got on our feet and looked for a place to live.  While we were there it was painful to take the Pagan part of me and put it in a box.  It was actually my husband that grew tired of it and blurted out the fact that we were Pagan to my parents.  This was the second step.

At first they did not know what to do, but have slowly become more comfortable with our path.  Often they will ask what we believe about certain things or have us help them clear out the house (watching my Father smudge for the first time was hilarious).  In a lot of ways I think that we have forced them to take a look at their beliefs and widen their view on many other things.  This year during Yule my parents joined us in circle for the first time and participated in the ritual.  It was a very emotional experience for me.

Grandma and the people at work are really the only people left in the dark about my path.  I truly think that telling her would hurt her too much and that is not something that I want to do.  And while a few of my coworkers are aware that I am a Pagan, most just think I am a little strange.  I am definitely ok with that.