At this time of year I start thinking a lot about sacrifice. About what it is, and why it is important. In past centuries, this was the beginning of harvest time. All the work that we’ve put into our crops through the spring and summer is paying off, and we begin to bring the fruits of our labors in from the fields before they rot. In so doing, we kill a great many plants before their natural time. We cut them down and preserve them, so we will have grain, and fruits, and vegetables to carry us through the winter.
Today, the timing is different. We have a global season for planting and growing, and a shortfall or failure to harvest probably won’t mean my family starves this winter. (I am fortunate to live in a first-world country, and I realize this is not the case for all places on the planet.) But the truth is still there. In order for my family and I to survive, we kill things around us. Often brutally.
Around this time of year, conversations often come up that talk about sacrifice. I think it’s just part of our social consciousness, particularly as pagans. Many of them, like this one at About.com About.com Paganism/Wicca (Patti Wigington) Attorney: Why I Defent Goat Sacrifice. The comments are what I’m pointing to, not the post itself.
Why is it that we can’t accept that sacrifice is part of life? The nature of sacrifice is simple. You give up something of value in hope that you will recieve something which you desire. Sacrifice takes many forms, and has many layers. I think it’s not only wise, but vital, that we as people consider the various levels upon which our actions and sacrifices have meaning.
For instance, I often (among pagans anyway) hear people thanking the earth for providing the bounty of the harvest. But I almost never hear them thank the spirit of the plant or animal they are planning on ingesting. I think making the food they are about to ingest spirit-less prevents us from thinking about the truth of what’s going on. We are killing this other thing that we may devour the force of it’s life and sustain our own. Thanking the spirit of the food is far more difficult, and far more respectful than thanking a nebulous earth-mother-goddess for providing. Yes, she has provided, but we make the choice to partake of what has been provided, and that requires sacrifice. Pretending differently strikes me as a self-delusion perpetuated by the Harm None myth.
There are a lot of facets that come up for me here. One of the ones that frustrates me the most has to do with vegetarians and vegans. I know many of both, and I have a deep respect for their choice of diet. However, I sometimes question the motives of vegetarians. If you believe it is healthier for you to eat vegetarian. That’s great. If you have an ethical dillema with the way livestock is raised and slaughtered, we’re cool. I might question your thoughts on the mass-production and forced growth of crops, and how that affects the lives of humans and livestock, but it’s cool. If your reason for being a vegetarian is “Because I don’t think other things should die so I can survive,” I’m going to get annoyed, because life requires death. If you don’t see that then you aren’t paying attention.
I don’t want to rant about that much, so that’s all I’m going to say on the matter. Getting back to sacrifice, think for a moment about what it means to sacrifice something. To give up something of value. For a sacrifice to mean something, you have to miss it. You have to give it up. The more important what you are giving up is to you, the more valuable the sacrifice, the more meaning it has, the more power it has. I think this is something that we miss when we talk about sacrifice today. I think it’s something we don’t want to see. We’re all caught up in symbolic sacrifice, which has value and power. But we sort of see it as a way of getting around the necessity of sacrifice to create change. Symbolic sacrifice is powerful because it reminds us of the real deal. It stirs the feelings and memories of real sacrifice, and that gives it ooomph.
But in the end, it is only symbolic, and there’s only so much ooomph our memories and fears can give it. Imagine the discipline and power you could generate by fasting for a day. That imagining can be given as sacrifice. We can make it real and experience it in our minds and it can have great power. But the experience of fasting for a day releases a far greater power, because we have actually pursued the course and given of ourselves to the path. (On a side note, we often lose the power of sacrificial acts by spending time focusing on the act of the sacrifice, and not focusing the energy on our goal, or spending too much time congratulating ourselves for our efforts.)
Just as important, is the realization that the object being sacrificed is not necessarily the primary source of power when talking about sacrifice. The power comes from what we have sacrificed yes, but also from our reaction to the act of that sacrifice. Burning a wicker goat in place of cutting a real goats throat may have exactly the same physical energy involved (although if we bring spirits and Gods into the equation, often the object being sacrificed is of tantamount importance). But it is much easier for us to burn a wicker goat than to actually cut the throat of a real one. The power of our reaction to the act of actually killing a goat is (in general) much more visceral and powerful than our emotional response to watching a wicker pile go up in flame. This is the level that we ignore often. Sacrificing our own desires, compromising our ethics or taste. These are the things that powerful sacrifices are made of. It’s not about the goat. It’s about what you have to give up in order to carry out the sacrifice of the goat.
One could view it in a karmic light, and I think one should explore that, but it’s not my point of interest tonight. For now, think about that goat. What does it cost you to burn a wicker effigy of it? What does it cost you to shoot it with a gun from 50 feet? To inject it with poison? What if it’s a goat that you’ve never seen before? How is that cost different if you raised the goat from birth? If you eat meat, is the sacrifice different if you slaughter it in a way to make the goat inedible, wasting the virtue of it’s flesh?
The point I’m driving at here, is that sacrifice is not so simple as give up A to get B. The power in A, the value of A, is not the most important part of the equation, it’s only one part of the price. The other part is equally important, and sometimes more important. What does it cost you to give up A?
One last thought. In our society, A is almost always money. How does it affect your relationship with money to think about it as the currency of your labor, the product of the hours you have sacrificed at work? And if we view money as a symbolic sacrifice of that time and effort, are the things we spend it on worth it?
I should be going to bed about now. It’s been a long day. And quite a few days since I’ve written for public consumption. Approaching two weeks.
Rest assured, that I have written much in that time, but I have been realizing that so much of what I need to write are things that I should not give to you here. It is not that they are secrets, but that they are specific. Specific to the Brotherhood and its mysteries, and those words come with their own burden of secrecy.
Too, I’ve been in a bit of a slothful funk. A few things have been coming up for me recently that have called for me to step up to the plate with a bit more focus. But being me, I can’t just step up. I need to sit down and stare at it for a little while. I need to let the dust dissipate so I can understand. I need to do nothing until I can see what needs doing.
This frustrates some people I know, but it is the way it works for me. The challenge there is that it is hard to keep some of the plates spinning while I turn my attention to the new plate. Too often I have to set everything down for a while, then pick it all back up, and add the new thing into the mix. I dropped everything for a good week while George was gone. I went to work and fulfilled my responsibilities, but by and large I sat and stared at things.
Now I’m focused again. At least for a few days. I’ve committed one evening a week to developing a workshop for the Brotherhood, and I’m hyper-busy at work again. I am taking a week off later this month, and my CTO wants the project I’m on pretty much done before then. That’s exciting, but it definitely offers a challenge I can rise to.
I need to sleep now if I’m to arise at a reasonable hour tomorrow. Hopefully more tomorrow night.
I’ve got the house all to myself tonight. I’m laying in bed with the light of the full moon shining in my window. I’ve got the soundtrack to Were the World Mine playing in the background. It’s great music for my slightly melancholy mood tonight.
I’m not feeling down, just emotional. This is probably the emotional high to match the mental high I felt this morning. The full moon is bathing me. I feel full of life and love. Everything feels more potent at the moment, my fear, my excitement, my hope, my desire. Strangely absent is my obsession over these things. I seem to be experiencing my feelings without holding onto them or grabbing them in my greedy fists. I have some ideas about what’s up with that, but nothing I care to share yet.
I just got done watching Spaceballs a bit ago. Great flick. It makes me smile, plus the guy that plays Lonestar is cute.
I had to dim the light of my laptop screen cause it was too bright, casting too much light into the bedroom. There is moonlight on my wall, a little bit of it is hitting my arm. I like it, and would rather see it than the monitors glow.
There’s a lot going on in my world right now. I’m preparing myself to marry my brother and his fiance in October. Pretty shortly I need to start learning lines for SoulSong, which is in about 10 days now. I feel like I haven’t really done any lasting work in weeks. I haven’t had time to write consistently, or do anything more than sketch outlines for workshops and book chapters. The time that I have had has been spent trying to put out fires or help my friends, clients, and family through their issues, or working for the Brotherhood.
On top of it all I feel like I’m neglecting my career. I wanted to focus on my career this year, but it’s just not happening. I’m focusing on it more than I did last year, but not in the way that I thought I would. This should not really surprise me. My career is not the first priority to the spirits or Gods. I should probably be thankful that I’m not destitute as so many of my peers are.
I also find myself missing a friend and teacher again. I hadn’t seen him in a long time, and then I got to spend hours with him on Monday. It was like he’d never left, and I remembered how strongly I always react to his energy, so very different and yet complementary to mine. And I could see how frustrated he was by the distance between us, and I shared that frustration. It had been so long since I’d seen him that it was easy to remember all the times we disagree and not miss him so much, but he’s only been gone a couple days and I am already missing him again.
Too, I’m missing friends that are right here. HerbisOrbis isn’t even all that far away, but we don’t live next door to each other, which would be ideal. Or at least on the same block. George is gone for the next 9 days, and John will be around sporadically only. I get to hang out with my younger brother on Friday, so that will be nice. Hopefully we’ll be at my place so I can work on fixing Samantha’s laptop, but we’ll see how that actually goes.
What Angel wakes me from my flowery bed. I pray thee gentle mortal, sing again. I pray thee gentle mortal sing again.
Mine ear is much enamoured of thy note. So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape. I’ll follow thee. I’ll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell. I’ll follow thee. I’ll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell. And make a heaven of hell.
No, not lonely exactly. I don’t feel lonely, which is odd in itself, because this would normally be a lonely feeling. It’s not exactly ennui either, more like a desire for emotional companionship. There’s a secondary element in play, the desire for physical closeness. It feels like emotional exhaustion, but not the bad kind. Just as though I’ve put my emotions through a very strenuous workout and now they’re tired and want someone to be slothful with. Perhaps I need an emotional workout buddy.
I also feel tired. Not physically, but mentally. I feel as though I want to put down a burden I’ve been carrying all day. As though I have done the Work and wish to rest now. It is very curious. Changes abound, and I knew they were coming, but it is impossible to anticipate all of them, or to really understand them until you’re living with them. And so it is.
okay, almost time to go to bed. First I shall post this, then I shall read a little bit. Then I shall stare softly at the full moon through my window and think fond thoughts of her as she drifts across the dusky purple sky.
Wednesday. A few minutes after 7 am. I am still, sitting on the train as it makes its first stops on the way south. Red Line this morning, so I can sit here and type. I don’t have to hurry to get to work on time, I’ll be early even though the red line takes longer if I take it all the way from Howard.
Full moon today. Not sure what time or when. I feel a strange detachment, not from the moon, or the world, but from my worry. I’ve been cycling through moments of complete distance from the world, and moments of complete submergence in the world. It’s been going on for about 36 hours now. Since Monday evening.
I’ve seen my own true face, and I am beautiful and one. I feel a perfect resonance of discernment, clarity absent of judgment. I feel the Will to act precisely, but with no emphasis on time or sense of urgency. I feel like a singularity in the temporal cube, instead of a body suspended by it. I feel the light of the Divine in every cell of my body, and I vibrate with it.
Today I have information I did not have yesterday, and for a time last night I struggled with it. Today it does not trouble me. Later it will again. Normally this vascillation would concern me, but I have an understanding that it is normal, an adjustment to a binary mode of perception, that I exist in reality, and apart from it.
The stops are moving by quickly this morning. Berwyn now. A sense of impatience comes from the people getting on the train. They want to move. They are driven by time and don’t see it. I’ve had this perception before, but never as clearly. When I began to spend time in tiphareth I began to see people like puppets, and in many ways it was very uncomfortable. As though they were zombies being manipulated by strings which they could not perceive. The perception now is much kinder, and I am not afraid of applying it to myself.
The strings have become forces, mathematically ideal energies pressing upon the people around me, and upon me. I’m uncomfortable with the mechanistic viewpoint that is my instinctive recognition here. Partly because I prize divinity too highly to embrace a clockwork universe, and partly because I recognize that the mathematics behind the universe are only geometric in appearance. In study and action they are functional, which means their output is variable.
Thy sky is very blue. It’s interesting. This morning I was laying in bed, and I looked out at the blue sky. And my traditional thought “Ugh, sun” was a hollow echo. I’m not particularly excited to see all that blue, and to feel the sun on the back of my neck as I type this. But I’m not investing in my preference for clouds. I’ve always wondered how it is that people who achieve great influence could resist using it frivolously, to enforce their desires upon the world. I see now, it’s because a function of harnessing that force and perceiving a way of giving it form removes a person from investment in the smaller things.
This is not to say that I am one of those people. I am not. But I can see the function there now, where I could not before. But I can also see the danger, and I have a startlingly clear perception of the history of that function. I can see when a mage has touched that light and brings it back. I can see how he works to change the world to fulfill his will. I can see how the worlds resistance or compliance can both taint that light.
Growing beyond the Demiurge has a tendency to make one believe that he may affect without being affected. And at the source this is true, but we live and work here, and even the creator/prime mover did not remain wholly distinct from what he created. Eventually the reflection of that light, even in Eden, strikes the eyes of he who created it.
The train is full now. I feel a little claustrophobic. Or perhaps agoraphobic. My stomach churns a little bit. The girl to my right is wearing a wrist brace, she has relatively minor RSI, and she thinks she can overcome it. It will get worse, and eventually she will give up, thinking her effort futile. She’s looking in the wrong place, trying to keep her habits but support herself with an external aid, when she should be changing the pattern that causes the injury. She is operating a touchscreen with the tip of her index finger moving side to side and up and down at a bad angle. She thinks this is okay because it’s not causing pain, which is mostly thumb and third finger driven at the moment. She might one day curse God for her suffering.
We’re all a lot like that. I am worse, far worse. I have the talent and skill to see where I’m injuring myself, and I keep doing it anyway. I have the knowledge to heal myself, and I don’t. Instead I wallow in this flesh, blindly trying to hold on to the idea that it will all work out. It will of course, but not in accordance with my desire. Instead of using my talent, I accept the small changes, the restrictions of movement, the inabilities and disabilities that grow so slowly we barely realize them, until one day we struggle to walk up the stairs.
I suggest to myself that I am being overly harsh, but it is not so. I feel no judgment of myself for this, at least not at the moment. But I see it as plainly as I see the woman with her wrist brace. Chicago and State now. Only a few more stops to go. Starting to come down now. Starting to feel invested. Tears are likely today. The expenditure of this perception on the mental has it’s reflection upon the emotional, and they will balance themselves. It is joy, even if it doesn’t seem like it at the time.
share the gift