BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I used to wonder if my family had ties to Mexico. We’ll get to why in just a bit…

If you happen to follow me on Facebook you probably saw a status update last week lamenting the fact that I had a fairly obnoxious Christian witnessing to me. She’s actually a nice lady, but she’s a little too passionate about her beliefs – literally to the point of being outright disrespectful about anything that doesn’t match her way of thinking – which, as she tells it, it God’s way of thinking. But, I’m not here to get into that… Suffice it to say, I received just as much advice on how to handle her from my FB friends as I did advice from her in the first place. My bad. I probably should have kept the whole thing to myself. But, again, I’m not here to get into that…

You see, on the heels of all that, I attended a family reunion – EKay’s side. This portion of the family, much as I love them, are also deeply ingrained in their religious beliefs. All good. However, some of them take the same approach as the young lady I dealt with the previous week – that being that even the simplest of conversations must be turned into a witnessing and/or sermon. At past gatherings this has forced me to excuse myself and go hide. This go around, fortunately, I was spared such, and had a great time. But, again, this has little to do with my suspicion of a Mexican heritage – or does it?

Here’s the thing: Being at odds about religion is nothing new to me. Portions of my own family were just as ingrained in their beliefs, especially on my Dad’s side. In fact, my grandfather literally “ran the pews” at his church. Whenever I would spend summers back in Kentucky, working on the farm, Wednesday and Sunday always involved Church. A lot of it. And there were other Church events – suppers, picnics, etc – where I would end up as well.

Again – where does this south of the border heritage thing come in?

Well, my grandfather would say grace at every meal. Now, while I may have been at odds with them about religion, by the same token I was respectful about it as long as I wasn’t being beat over the head too badly. So, when grace would come around I would bow my head, remain silent, and listen. My grandfather, Joe Sellars, would invoke Jesus, request blessings upon the food, the land, the family, and anyone else sitting at the table. If someone else needed to be included in the prayers they were, and then he would wind down to the end. As he approached the final “amen,” his mumble would become less intelligible – at least, to me. For years I struggled to understand what he was saying but never could quite put a finger on it, other than to the best of my hearing he was saying: Fiesta now and then, uh-huh…

Given that Joe Sellars ran the pews at the church, I think maybe there’s something to that. Apparently he was more of a “partier” than I ever knew.

I had it in my head that I was going to save this story for the magnum opus autobiography I would write in coming years, but since I really doubt anyone much cares to read about how I got up, went to work, then came home, over and over again for 400 pages, I thought maybe I’d just put it here.

But, who knows? Maybe something interesting will happen before I kick off, and I WILL write that autobiography anyway. If I do I think I’ll go ahead and call it, Fiesta Now And Then…

Just for fun I’ll have the release party in Water Valley, Kentucky and hold it on Cinco de Mayo…

More to come…

Murv

The other day a friend of mine (yes, I have friends) told me that a mutual friend had asked him “what had happened to me?” By this she apparently meant, “What life altering experience had slapped me in the back of the head with a 2 by 4 and made me eschew my spiritual path.”

I’ll be honest. This came as a shock to me because I was entirely unaware that I had done so. My spiritual path has grown immensely over the years, but it has never been abandoned. It has been right there with me all along.

Now, granted, I have not “self-identified” as Pagan for quite a long time now. There are numerous reasons for this, none of which we will go into here because my blog is generally a fun place – although, I will admit to soapboxing every now and again. And, as it happens, I will be doing so here today… But, I really don’t want to create too many suds, if you know what I mean, therefore we will stick to one brand of detergent for this missive.

So, anyway, back to “what happened to me”… To be perfectly honest, at the outset I didn’t really think too much about the “question.” After all, it had been years since I’d seen the particular individual who was making the actual query, so I had to assume she was mistaking growth for a “negative change” (in her eyes, at least). But, as it turns out I wasn’t able to keep it on the back burner for long, because soon afterward I started receiving the annual “what’s wrong with you?” emails from other folks…

Yes, I said annual…

You see, not a year goes by that I don’t receive at least a dozen or so queries from folks out there who cannot seem to understand why a guy who writes books about Witches, and who portrays Paganism in general – as well as various specific alternative religious practices – in a positive, and moreover accurate light, would stoop so low as to celebrate *GaSp!* Christmas… After all, anyone with any sense whatsoever can tell you that the historical probability that Jesus – if he even existed – couldn’t possibly have been born on December 25th. But, even more importantly, how dare me, a “Pagan Author,” celebrate a *GaSp!* Christian Holiday. Everyone knows they co-opted our celebration, so why am I choosing to observe it and lend credence to them? Have I *GaSp!* turned into a Christian?

Oh noes… Say it ain’t so!

I’ll be truthful here – At all of this nonsense I would expel a hearty laugh were it not so utterly sad and ridiculous. Instead, I find that I must expel a hearty and saddened sigh, complete with a shake of my head.

You see, what always seems to prompt these emails is the fact that E K, the O-Spring, and I exchange gifts on Christmas morning instead of Yule proper – that being the Winter Solstice. The complaint is, if we were “proper Pagans” we would exchange our gifts on the 21st of the month – or for the truly fundamental, 0 degrees Capricorn – instead of observing a *GaSp!* Christian Holiday.

Yes… Believe it or not, that is the basis of the “what’s wrong with you?” emails I receive each year… Some of them are actually flat out scathing, accusing me of undermining Paganism. Apparently I am a spy sent to infiltrate the ranks of Pagandom and infect it with Christmas Cheer… Who knew? Hell, I’ve even had people tell me they are never going to read my novels again, because obviously I am “not Pagan enough” to warrant their attention.

True story. Really. Even I couldn’t make this sh*t up.

So, allow me to point out a couple of things that might have some bearing on what is wrong with me…

1. My family and I celebrate Christmas as a secular holiday. This means the Coca-Cola Santa Claus and all that jazz, even though the O-Spring hasn’t believed in the jolly elf for many a year now.
2. We also celebrate Yule as a spiritual holiday. For us, this means a fire, a feast, and good friends present at both to help us usher in the light.

So, what does all this mean?  Well, depending on who you ask it apparently means that “I ain’t Pagan enough,” all because we wait an extra 4 days to open our presents.

Oh well… Guess I’d better turn in my broom…

More to come…

Murv