Tuesday, 9 October 2012

On death

Hi everyone,
I know I haven't written for a while, and I'd intended to waffle on a bit more about runes or about the rituals I got up to at the summer (Lughnasad in Avebury being the highlight), but I have more pressing things to talk about now....

When I refer to 'death', from a Pagan perspective, I mean more than just a physical death of a body. When you lose anything that was a large part of your life, particularly if it was taken suddenly and unexpectedly, it can feel like a death, and the process that follows can still be defined as grieving. When my girlfriend left me last week, I felt like I'd spent an entire summer planning for a future that no longer exists. Now I have to start from scratch, pick up the pieces and rebuild my life; everything was going so swimmingly that there was no plan B and I was devastated. But here's the thing....
One of the great things about being Pagan is that when tragedy of some sort strikes you always know that it will produce one or both of two outcomes; a new birth (I predict creative output to soar this month, a light workload this semester will help), and eventually a rebirth into a new life, certainly a long way from the one that was planned, but we're flexible like that. Adaptability is why we have survived so long! When it feels like all is lost, what we have on our side is to remember to go back to basics, to remember that everything is built on the birth-death-rebirth cycle. Living in a world of concrete can make it easy to forget it but after the darkness the light will always return; it's simply the way that nature is designed.
The other thing about experiencing intense emotional pain or loss, or feeling like you've made an irreversible mistake or lost something irreplaceable, is to remember that there is something to learn from everything that goes wrong. It's true when they say that everything happens for a reason and that lessons are repeated until they are learned. When the bombshell was dropped on me I felt only confusion, anger and immense pain, and it took a few days for the fog to clear and the message of what I was supposed to learn from this to sink in. I was being taught to appreciate the support that I have in this city; I've never been happy here at Uni and didn't make close friends last year, but had things gone to plan with my other half I'd have near ignored everyone else. The lord and lady can be forceful if they have to but they'll do whatever it takes to make us open our eyes and see our surroundings for what they really are. It took for this to happen to see what wonderful people surround and support me. There's an answer to the darkest of times, and it can be the people you feel you connect with the least and to whom you give little time who are the kindest and most supportive. The gods will teach you what you need to learn, and if like myself, you are stubborn enough to make them have to put you through hell to learn it, like any good parent, that is what they will do.
Once again Glastonbury calls, almost 5 months after my wonderful birthday venture, this time a solemn pursuit of healing. In the run up to Samhain a trip like this seems appropriate, a time to mourn, to let go, then to rebuild and start a new life.
 Blessed Be all xxx