I lost some time once...

From time to time, I post about how I feel spiritually, from what I think I'm doing wrong to a complete redefinition of what I value. I tend to be reluctant to share that with a larger audience, due in no small way to the judgmental way most people in my area of the country view religion and spirituality. When I tell you I'm clearly Not Christian™, I get nervous, like I could still be burned at the stake over it. Of course, I worked in retail for 23 years (from 9 Nov 1994 until 26 Feb 2018, so 23 years, 3 months, and 17 days).

I wonder if I ever told anyone about the time when I had a well-meaning Evangelical Christian pressure me -- a customer service clerk who was bagging an order -- into accepting Jesus because she saw the Ankh I wore around my neck. Never mind that I tried explaining that I wore it because I liked a comic book character that wore one. Never mind that I cited that it represented eternal life. Never mind that I'd had others compare it to a Celtic cross. She was worried for my eternal soul. What was so bad was that she was never hateful or mean; indeed, she always smiled and was terribly pleasant, but I always got a lecture about it, until I learned to avoid her. Now, it doesn't matter that she was being nice and was genuinely worried about me, because she refused to accept my reasons for wearing it. I vaguely recall one customer rudely and hatefully calling it out, only instead of trying to sway me with love, he was trying to scare me into not wearing it.

...and that was for something I wore because I liked a comic character created by a British author. Imagine what might've happened if I had formally been pagan or atheist at the time, and run into one or the other of them.

At any rate, now you know why I decided long ago that my faith was my business, and why I kept such belief close to my chest, on a superficial level, anyway.

What do I believe? Let me clear this up with an oversimplification: I don't FUCKING know. :) To go past the vulgarity, I am not really sure. I have never been completely satisfied with any system of belief.

Since 2010, when I finally accepted that I couldn't reconcile Christianity in a positive way, I have been alternately Asatru, heathen, pagan, atheist, heathen, agnostic, heathen, almost druid, atheist, almost Asatru again, until I find myself at this weird point that's probably easiest to call pagan (but like most labels, isn't a proper fit). I've tried to find a niche that I could call my own: a spiritual practice that encompasses what I value, yet gives me a label that fits and a way to ward off anyone who wants to tell me that I'm "doing it wrong".

I began 2018 believing that there were no gods, that I was alone, and that I was doomed to a dismal tailspin to a suicide or just death by stress. Work was a physical burden that settled on my shoulders as soon as I would turn my car into the parking lot. Then, I found a new job, and things began to turn around: I had a regular schedule, I was able to make time for friends, I was getting rest, and more. People were commenting that they were already seeing the change in me.

Before long, I began to experiment again. I was afraid to name any deity, because I had -- to my mind -- spurned them for so long, and felt that I had to "earn" their good will back. I had an altar set up, and I cleaned it up and burned candles on it. I would occasionally leave an offering. It felt good, so I kept at it, though I still "heard" nothing. Now, some would point right to this and say, "Aha! You had it!" Honestly, they wouldn't be wrong, but I am never satisfied for long when it comes to seeking answers.

So, I took to wearing my Thor's Hammer again, my outward sign that I was heathen/Asatru¹, and for a few weeks, I was content. Then, after a trip to Missouri to visit a Lokean friend of mine (for D&D!), I had occasion to ask a friend, without judgment, why they had chosen Loki. Their response, because he called to them, shook me. Long after I had said good night to them, I was torn. I was lost and more than a little jealous: I wanted a connection like that to the gods. I still want such a connection to the gods. Oh, nothing like having them on speed dial, but being able to close my eyes and just KNOW they're near, even if they aren't actively watching. To have that unshakable faith that comes to the devout.

I ripped my hammer off as I was getting ready to remove my shirt, and I hurled it away from me, behind me. I didn't find it until 5am the next morning, six hours later. When I did find it, I found the rope and haft of the hammer behind my books on my bookshelf, and the head was laying on the floor, by my closet. I had managed to break it in two. I spent a good part of the next day, talking to close friends about what was bugging me.

I started listing things that I knew I "believed" in, as evidence that I shouldn't have trouble hearing deities -- no matter how literally or figuratively you take that. That's when my friend said, "there, you see? these are the things you believe in, and you don't need a name or a named God to make it work for you." ²

So, what do I believe?

• Well, for whatever reason, I trust that the way my music sorts itself when I randomize it, particularly when I am starting my day or doing a chore, to tell me something, either with song title or song subject matter.
• I am energized by the moon, and though I see the fewest stars during a full moon, I am most alive, as I can feel the silver moonlight caressing my skin.
• I trust in Death as a bringer of peace and a watcher of lives and as one who brings meaning to one's life, for only because we eventually die do our struggles truly matter.
• I believe in Dreams much the same way that I do music.

Oddly, there are deities that I am drawn to.

• Going back to when I was 12, and had to do a report on the Parthenon for my 6th grade class, Athena has always drawn my attention and maybe just a little love. When I visited the Parthenon replica that's in Nashville, I was struck almost physically when I walked out in front of the statue in the main hall. Even then, as deeply heathen as I felt I was, I considered that stop to be highly spiritual for me.
• I was drawn to Thor when I read my first comic with him in it. Now, I understand the comic version is different from the lore, but in both, Thor is a guardian of humanity and defender of Midgard. That calling is what, I think, resonated with me.
• Death, as visualized by Neil Gaiman, is one of my life's loves. She is everything I said about death above, and then some. Death isn't always pretty. It isn't always timely. It isn't always preferable. However, in every situation, there she is, ready to escort us to our next adventure. She has followed me into my dreams, and for a great many years, would randomly appear in them and converse with me about nonesuch. I miss those conversations, because it's been a while since I last recall seeing her.
• In a National Geographic book on the solar system, Michael Whelan was tasked with illustrating the planets' namesakes, for inclusion in a page of info about the planet. Diana, chosen for the Moon, captivated and fascinated me. I'd stare at the image for hours. That Diana was an archer is a significance I can only now begin to ponder (as archery is my favorite combat style in D&D in particular, and in games in general).

So, I have a lot of things that I love, and a few gods I love as well. I will have to ponder what this specifically means, but for now, I will leave it at this and spend a while thinking on this all. Feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, if you like.

(In all fairness, it's also getting quite late, and I do have to work in the morning. We can call this Part 1 if you like, and I'll get to Part 2 very soon.)

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1 - I am very careful about how I label my Norse beliefs, because many who call themselves Asatru are unbending in their approach to the gods, and many others are racist asshats hiding behind the gods.
2 - This is a paraphrase, obviously.

[Unlocked, though comments are screened.]

The title of this post is, more accurately, "Things Rediscovered After You Forgot that You'd Lost Them at All."

"The other one...
The one at the end...

I think I fell in love with her, a little bit. Isn't that dumb?

But it was like I knew her.
Like she was my closest, dearest friend.
The kind of person you can tell anything to, no matter
how bad, and they'll still love you, because they know you.

I wanted to go with her. I wanted her to notice me.

And then she stopped walking.
Under the moon, she stopped, and she looked at us.
She looked at me.

Maybe she was trying to tell me something; I don't know.
She probably didn't even know I was there.

But I'll always love her. All my life."

-- Sandman #56 (World's End, Part 6), pp. 18-19

I know it sounds crazy, but these two pages changed me completely. The narrator was talking specifically about Death, walking at the end of a funeral procession. Neil Gaiman's words, combined with the image of Death that Gary Amaro drew, spoke to my soul. As surely as I am sitting here typing this post, I know that those words were written for me in particular.

Some of my friends say there is no such thing as coincidence. Normally, I disagree with this, because coincidence implies a lack of a plan, and a lack of a plan means that fate and destiny are just false concepts. Thus, my decisions are my own, and I am not bound to any particular path while living this life. It's a simple and elegant little farce I tell myself.

However, as I sit here, I find it almost impossible to believe that those words and images were meant for anyone BUT me. Every single word resounds within my soul with a clarity and honesty that causes my very soul to hum in harmony. Seeing the images that go with the words reinforces that feeling. Seeing Death that truly sad, and being unable to ease her suffering, causes my own heart to nearly break to the point of no return.

Part of my mind tells me that I'm just a little on the crazy side. It says, "there's some clinical explanation for why you're such a mess over a character created for a comic book." Of course there probably is some clinical explanation, I now think, because Man as a species is ill-prepared and ill-equipped to entertain -- for even a moment -- that the world is more than he thinks it is, or that what he experiences within his own mind are in any way real.

Yet, I realize several things, having reread "Worlds' End"* these past two nights. One, I began reading this around the same time I got into computers, so this love affair of mine is almost 20 years old, but that's anecdotal. Two, this story would have had its final issue in November 1993, thanks to the direct market. Three, that if I read this in 1993, that the poem I wrote about Death being my bride had to have happened very soon after I read this (within 4 months**). Four, my melancholia about the holidays always starts in November. That could also be anecdotal. Fifth, my feelings toward death (as a life act) are not nearly as dire as most people, as if I've come to terms with it in a very personal way.

Finally, the sixth thing I realize is that the first time I spent any time with my dream girl was shortly after Kevin began dating Brandi in early 1994, because it was Death who was my double date on that mysterious car trip to the lodge that I can, even now, only describe in unsatisfying terms, almost as if I remember exactly what I saw, until I try to tell another.

For the last 18 years, I've had a love affair with a girl who I've only seen in my dreams. She is everything that I want, everything that I desire, everything that lifts me up. With her, I am more than I allow myself to be during the day. With her, I can accomplish anything. With her, also, I am myself, unfiltered, uninhibited, unchained. Is it any wonder why I cannot find a girl in the waking world to match what I've found in my dreams? What, also, does it say about me, that Death's brother is Dream? After all, that is where I find her.

Parts of my mind begin to echo the same thoughts I listed earlier, but I think I've finally reached the point that it can't affect me anymore. It's not that I don't care, but rather that I have begun to understand that those thoughts (or even other people's opinions) aren't important in the grade scheme of things.

In a way, I have to be grateful to Jessica for helping me indirectly realize this. Until 2010, I was convinced that I had to find my love in the waking world. I was sure that there was someone for me, somewhere. So, I'd try and pine and hope and fail and cry. Jessica gave me a good deal more than I'd found up to that point. Things ultimately end for those of us in the material world, and my relationship with her was no different. However, I managed to learn that what I really wanted was something I'd found within, all those years ago.

I've had crushes since, and I cannot explain why they still ring with me. Could it be that parts of them speak to my dream self, and identify themselves as having elements of that one perfect dream girl I've known all these years? Could it be that my soul recognizes in them those parts that match that dream girl, and my soul yearns for that connection more than life itself? I find many women attractive, but the list of those who I am truly interested in is short, indeed.

Today, while I acknowledge that I'd be lying that I don't want some kind of relationship with a woman in the material world, I no longer crave it past the point of reason. However, I must also acknowledge that I hold every woman I meet up next to this dream girl. Thus, the sad reality is that my expectations and desires are irrationally high.

...For who could outshine a dream?

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* - "Worlds' End", first published in Sandman #51-56, July to December 1993
** - I ultimately first quit school in April 1994, so my memory of letting a classmate read the poem would have had to come between November 1993 and April 1994.

I don't really know why I'm posting in my journal tonight. I was going to talk about the mess surrounding my current church, but instead, with Blackmore's Night's "Under a Violet Moon"* playing in my ear, I'm going to talk about what I believe. (These are my opinions, and while I welcome debate, I will not let anyone just tell me I'm wrong. This is how I've come to understand the world through my experiences, which aren't -- can't be -- the same as yours.)

First, I believe that all that exists in the universe has to have been created by some kind of being. The thought that this is random vexes me, when even the atheists would be hard-pressed to give an explanation of what was here before. Look at anything around you, and it was created, and includes a time that was before it existed. What, then, existed before the Big Bang? The Abrahamic religions claim that there was nothing but God/Yahweh/Allah, and that he is infinite. The Norse claimed that there was Fire and Ice. Everything we see has a cycle, be it life/death or creation/destruction. This seems to be a fundamental aspect of life in this universe, since the very things that give rise to a life, or that yielded the elements that formed the object, inevitably bring about the life's end of the object's destruction. Yet, I've never heard anyone refer to the universe in this manner.

Secondly, and I suppose I touched on this in the first point, I believe that everything has a cycle. From a sapling grows a tree, from which comes a seed, which creates another sapling. Meanwhile, things such as disease, animals, weather, and man will cause the first tree to eventually die. I was born in 1976, by human reckoning, and eventually I will die. I may or may not sire a child that is directly of my blood, but my life will live on in those whose lives I touched. My friends' children will remember their "Uncle Anthony", and the lessons I provided, directly or not.

(I find it interesting how each point seems to lead into the next.) Also, I am not afraid to die. When it occurs, I may not be thrilled about it, but I will not be begging to have "just a few more years" or some other such nonsense. I was born into this life, and it is absolutely certain that I will die. I know that this may sound horribly nihilistic, but see my point about cycles. Whether I cease to exist as "Anthony" is moot. I will have left this existence, and moved on to whatever is next. People who are very important to me die: my grandparents, my first girlfriend, Pop Dunn (who affects me even now -- I get an itch in the corner of my eyes when i see his name), and Trudy. Yet I do understand that, deep down, each and every one of them lives on in my memories, in my actions, in how I perceive this world. Each had a lesson to impart to me, no matter how small or how little I remember it, that has shaped me into the person that I am. My only fear regarding death is that I will not be missed.

(Okay, so the path from one point to the other just fizzled. :-p) I believe that this world cannot exist without both light and dark. Some like to call it "good and evil," but I prefer "light and dark," or perhaps even "creation and entropy." Now, understand that I vastly prefer the light, but I recognize the value of the dark. Without night, you cannot say how bright the day is. Without someone like Hitler, you cannot properly appreciate what Gandhi did. I can apply this to even some of the most mundane things: without bills, you cannot appreciate how much of a relief it is to have money. (Okay, I'll concede that one is stretching it a bit.) As a tree grows and spreads its branches out to shelter the creatures that live beneath it, it also starves other photosensitive beings that live below it. There is a light side and dark side to everything.

I do not believe in the Christian views of Heaven and Hell. Frankly, it might be more accurate that I have trouble believing in any afterlife in which it functions as strictly the final destination. I love the Norse gods, yet I do not know that I can believe that when I die, my soul will go to my patron deity's house, where I will reside until Ragnarok.**

I believe in magic (not the card game, but real magic***). Not the hocus pocus in the Harry Potter films, or the powerful Istari from Lord of the Rings, but I believe that we can effect change in our world through force of will. Willpower matters more than many people are willing to acknowledge. Beyond that, we can find magic all around us. We have but to look. That sunset or sunrise that took your breath away? Magic. A new life being born? Magic. The intricacy with which a spider spins its web? Magic. I find magic in a particularly beautiful piece of art, or in a song that brings tears to my eyes or fills me with such energy I have to bounce around.

To this end, I believe in the Fae. I don't see why, just because I haven't personally seen anything that I identify as being a fairy, that I have to believe they don't exist. Maybe it's the Celtic heritage in me, but I absolutely love stories of fairies. Do I believe that the story of the cobbler and the elves is historical fact? No. However, I believe that they're around us, living and breathing, and are as real as you or I. By necessity, I believe in the dark fae, too. I wouldn't want to run into a real troll or hag, but they're there, just out of sight. I also believe in ghosts and spirits, too, but they creep me out, to be perfectly honest. :)

I also believe that I have not even begun to scratch the surface of my power. What that power entails, I do not know, but I will know it when I find it. I cannot even say that it's a magic that I wield. It could just be finding my life's purpose.

To sum this up:

• I believe that someone/thing created the universe.


• Everything has a cycle, including the universe, and especially the life on this planet.


• I do not fear death, only being forgotten.


• I believe that a balance between light and dark is essential for the world to exist. Good and evil are facets of the light and the dark, but I favor the light far more than the dark.


• I do not believe in an afterlife in which I exist there as I did here. After all, like I said, cycles. :)


• I believe in magic. Without it, life has absolutely nothing worthwhile for me.


• I believe in fairies, ghosts, and spirits, including the dark ones, which give me quite a fright.


• I have not yet unlocked my true power.

So there you have it. This is part one of what I believe. I had more, but it meandered a bit, so I edited that part out for another post, to be done another time. I hope that you appreciate and respect my views for what they are: my views. Some of the preceding only occurred to me as I wrote this. Others were things I've known since I was very young.

I love all of my friends. I am fundamentally no different now than I was 1, 5, 10, or even 20 years ago, aside from my life experiences making me view things differently. I still value what I value, love what I love, and do what I do. Can anyone really ask me to do anything else? Do you think I should let them?

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* -- This song strikes a chord in me that few other songs can. It was also one of the songs that I had on heavy rotation when I first discovered that my spiritual path was not going to follow Christianity...back in 2002. (Yes, I've had a feeling for just that long.)
** -- NOTE: I did not say that I necessarily disbelieve in Ragnarok or the Norse afterlife, only in the concept that I get there and stop and wait.
*** -- I refuse to use the "k" at the end. I know what I'm talking about, and if you don't, it's your responsibility to ask me.