A letter I sent to one of my DP Mentees.

The following is part of an email I sent to one of my DP students. I welcome any and all thoughts about this, as long as this conversation remains civil. I, like everyone else, had a moment at which I needed to decide if ADF was the right choice for me. It was not a decision I made lightly, and I finally made my choice based on much prayer and divination and loads of thinking and soul-searching. Ultimately, I decided that ADF is the place where I want to make my spiritual home, and here is why:

Off the record, I wanted to tell you about my view of ADF and why I decided to stay. My first disappointment with ADF was a lot like a child coming of age and realizing for the first time that their mom/dad wasn't perfect. It was quite a blow, and made me question everything else they told me that I took to be truth verbatim. I eventually learned that their intentions were good, even if they weren't always right. More importantly, I learned to do a lot of thinking for myself, which lead to disagreements and mismatches of opinions as I became a teenager.

Many of the issues I disagree with in regards to ADF as a whole are some of the very things that keep it from turning into an organized national church with a dogma. It took me a while to understand this.

I said, "Am I doing this right?"

They kept saying, "If you are doing, you are fine. Right Action! Piety!"

"Doesn't it matter what I do?" I asked.

"Yes and No," they said. "When you understand that answer, you will understand the nature of the organization as a whole."

Yes, it matters what I do. No, ADF doesn't care what I do. I can do whatever I want, but anything that falls outside of the defined Core Order or IE studies is not "ADF." I can write, perform, sing, wear, go, do, or say anything I want, as long as it is pleasing to my personal Gods and the relationships I have with them. It doesn't matter if they agree, and there is no set one right way to do anything, which means there is no set one right answer to any questions I ask. It is frustrating, but it needs to be so. How else can we get a Celt, a Greek, a Roman, a Heathen and a Vedic all in one rite and happy about it?

One of the reasons we have such a hard time getting study groups and other resources together is because there are always a lot of people who disagree about what we should be teaching folks, if we should even be teaching them at all. All of the study groups mediated by the Mentors or other ADF officers in the past have fallen apart. In addition, the presence of "authority figures," for some reason, puts quite a few people immediately on edge.

ADF, to me, is a common thread used as a unifying factor between an otherwise highly diverse group of people. There can be study groups, and these groups can be facilitated to start relevant conversations and keep people relatively focused, but there can't really be "teachers," not in the truest sense of the word. ADF can't be taught. ADF must be experienced. ADF wants us to think for ourselves and frowns upon taking anyone's word verbatim without checking the source of those words. And even still, as we learn more about the past and the Kindred, our views and words may change, and that needs to be happening constantly. The organization needs to be solid enough to provide a base structure but fluid enough to change with the seasons. ADF will truly be broken only if it stagnates. That's what happened to the Christian faith. They found their rock and set it down. They built a building (box) around it and cut it off from everything else. The world changed and new discoveries were made about the way things really were in the past, but no! They can't fit those ideas into the box their rock is in. So it stagnates.

I hope that this will show you where I stand, and why I choose stand here.

Me and my guitar. Random Thoughts.

I was thinking about guitar and festivals, and I have some thoughts. I have been to only two ADF festivals, last year's Summerlands and this year's Wellspring. Both were a load of fun, but there wasn't much opportunity for random guitar playing. I certainly had time to play by myself at Summerlands last year, but I had to travel away from my campsite. It was very quiet over there, and people were always sleeping. Who goes to a festival to sleep? I didn't want to play too close to a workshop, which is where most of the people not attending were sitting. I tried to play a little in one group between workshops, but the people there didn't seem interested, and actually seemed rather annoyed because they were talking. Hehe, I can imagine their reaction if I would have actually sang. Boy, am I loud! And the drum circle was full of very enthusiastic drummers who played for hours. Not that I am complaining. It was amazing! Just not conducive to guitar playing.

Wellspring didn't leave me with much time to randomly play guitar. There was a lot going on. I had surprisingly little time to sit with the Cranes, let alone play guitar. Plus, I lost my capo, and the one I borrowed from Ian was on loan for only a short time, since he needed it, too.

I hear all these tales of folks singing around the fire and playing music on into the night, and I really want to be a part of something like that. When we go camping as a family, we habitually end up with a full audience and even get participants from other camps who have brought their instruments as well.

I think one of the reasons for my habitual disconnect with other ADF folks (and sometimes even the Cranes) is because I relate to people through music. It is a need of mine. Without it as a bond, I have a hard time making a connection. My guitar really has become an extension of myself. I use it to pray. I use to celebrate. I use it to mourn. I use it to relax. I use it to wake me up. I use to wind down. I find comfort and strength in it's tones. I love to play. Music is such an ingrained part of my life that without sharing it with someone, I don't really feel that we know each other very well--or at least that they don't know me.

The Bear-Man is probably my closest Cranie-kin. He's also been privy to all of the songs I have written for ADF purposes before anyone else. Heck, I even wrote one for him! Ris and Paul had a couple of get-togethers at their place to which I brought my guitar and shared quite a few pieces with them and their guests. I feel much closer to those people who were there, and the rest of my relationships are almost stagnating. I spent some time trying to figure out why and these are the conclusions I made. Just some random thoughts about me and my quirky personality. Some people you get to through their stomachs. Me? You get to me through my guitar...

Rough times going around.

So many thoughts running around in my mind. Where to begin? With the autistic child who laid his head in my lap and fell asleep, after spilling a smuggled bottle of bubble solution on my bed and a bowl of dry cereal behind my nightstand? I could sing of my beautiful daughter who brought me the most gorgeous little flower from outside because she said it was pretty like me, after I cleaned up the carrot shavings from the carrot she peeled after lunch. I can rave about my eldest son's uncanny ability to give me a random hug when I am in need of one, regardless of the fact that I raised my voice at him thirty minutes prior because his laundry basket was dumped into the hallway--the clean laundry. I may decide that I want to talk about the subtle way I am reminded exactly where my place is--and remembering what size my breeches are, so to speak. Mine own thoughts are plotting.

So many people dear to me heart are having a rough time about things. Life is hard sometimes. Life is cruel. People are cruel, and commonly extensively so. How do you tell someone who won't hear you that she is beautiful? How do you tell someone whose own thoughts are too loud to listen when you praise her intellect? How do you show someone who has made himself blind how talented he is? And how do I open myself so I can hear the good things people are saying about me? I wonder; I wonder.

I wish that people would just say what they mean. I wish that people would mean what they say. I wish that people talked to one another the way they wish to be talked to in return. I wish for loads of things that I have no control to change. I do, however, have complete control over one thing in this world--and that is my reaction to them. To those who tear me down, even passive-aggressively. To those who speak words that are intended to diffuse a situation but somehow alienate me. To those who undermine me to get ahead. To those who have something to say about my child and try to give me advice, though many of them have no children and can't possibly know what it is like to be where I am. I choose to live with grace and sanity. I choose to be kind and thoughtful. I choose to persevere in the face of adversity. And above all else, I choose love and loyalty, friends and family, kin and Kindreds, for these are what really matter to me. I think I made good choices.

You are good enough; these things just take time. You are beautiful, and I wish the opinions of strangers didn't effect you so deeply. You are extremely talented, and I am sorry if I have taken you for granted or held you back in any way. You are loved, and I know that is not enough, but I hope it will hold you over, at least long enough to get some sleep tonight. I love you all. I can be strong enough for us all. Lean on me, and I will hold you, but when you can stand on your own again, don't forget the rock beneath your feet...

Liturgy I Passed!

My rewrites were acceptable, and I have passed Liturgy I. Since this counts for four study programs, it makes me feel like I got a lot of bang for my buck, so to speak. :)

I have started History of Neopaganism and Druidism, but it is a little dry, which is not conducive to third shift writing. I picked up Comparative Mythology to be directly followed by New Comparative Mythology for General Bardic Studies I, as well. I find it overwhelming to realize how little I actually know about this religion I claim to follow. There are so many unanswered questions regarding the anthropology, history, lore, evolution and Neopagan skills in my head that I wonder sometimes at my ability to call myself a Druid.

Baby steps, baby steps.

Who needs spoons anyway?

Being a good Mom, you happily oblige when your autistic four-year-old brings an empty bowl over to the counter where you are preparing food and looks hopefully at the rice. You place a few scoops in the bowl, put in a spoon, and escort him to the table with his booty.

He doesn't want to sit, but you want him to eat, so you allow him to stand. He takes the spoon and puts it on the table. You put the spoon in his hand. He puts it back on the table. You put it in his bowl, and he waits. You don't put it back in his hand, because he has had a rough day and needs at least a few calories before bed. After a few moments, the food on the stove is in dire need of attention, so you resume the stirring and sauteeing. You are interrupted by a series of unhappy yells that you can only assume are your autistic child's version of cussing. He has rice on his hand and is yelling because he wants it off. You quickly get a rag, but he is really upset. The rice on the floor is now on the bottom of his sock, and he is frettingly trying to scrap it off, but now that rice is also sticking to his hands. Wailing, wailing.

You pick him up, take off his socks and wipe his hand on your shirt. He still wants the rice. You hand him the bowl, and he tries to run. He stops when he steps in the rice, so you seize the opportunity to pick him up and sit on the floor with him in your lap before he screams again. After a few tries, you let him back up. Now you are sitting on the floor, and he is in the corner of the kitchen trying to get past you--and take his bowl with him.

He puts the bowl down next to you but paces in his corner of the kitchen, making very unhappy sounds all the while. You smile, and in your most convincing and friendly voice, you say to him, "Help you" over and over while making the ASL sign for "help." Smile, sign, speak, repeat. Smile, sign, speak, repeat.

Finally, he walks over and sits in your lap. You get him to eat one bite with the spoon, which he then takes out of your hand and flings accross the kitchen. But he remains in your lap. He plunges his hand in the bowl, and eats the rice while you tell him he's a good boy and run your hand over his hair, kissing his head and rocking, ever so slightly.

After he has finished, you take the bowl to the sink and whisk him to a tub full of bubbles and boats. He is happy.

I hate spoons.

Sunburned, tired, and quite changed.

Well, I have heard others tell tales about coming home from a festival different, and I had experienced something not quite so drastic at Summerlands last year, but Wellspring--I had no idea.

I had a much different festival than most of the folks there, I am sure. I had a lot of personal issues to overcome (including computer issues, lost supplies that are necessary, and many many many instances of being given two choices and having to make a decision). I came to some life-changing decisions this weekend, some that affect a lot more people than I would like them to (some of whom are not going to be happy about it), but I think that I am finally in a place where I can evaluate the situation and make those tough decisions--even the hard ones that I don't want to make. This entire festival seemed to be one long lesson involving a crash-course in on-the-fly prioritizing.

I learned a lot about myself this weekend. I learned that I can be strong even when it makes others not like me very much. I have learned that there are plenty of folks who have a good opinion of me, even though there are a few who don't after this weekend. I learned that I am more talented than I credit myself. I learned that I can laugh at myself. Most of all, I learned that through whatever situation I find myself in, I have a list of people who will be there for me, and that is the biggest gift I could have asked to receive this weekend.

Special thanks to my Grovies, The Cranes, specifically Anna Gail, though you were all amazing all weekend long. I have long known that the Crane kin are my second family, but this weekend was such a display of familial love that I will never doubt my place among them.

See you all at Summerlands!

The Portrait of a Musician

Researching this article has lead me on so many tangents. I am never going to finish at this rate!Still reading Music, the Brain and Ecstasy. Still fascinated by it.

Many of you, if not all of you, are familiar with the fact that the left side of the brain is most associated with science and the right side with arts. Chapter two spends quite a bit of time explaining how the brain processes sound. Simply stated, most of the auditory nerves are always firing, even in silence, and the others only respond to changes in sound, firing only when a frequency intensifies or slides upward or downward (changes what we perceive as pitch). In the center of the brain, there is a primary auditory complex in which much of the activity is devoted to inhibiting the action of other neurons to simplify the incoming auditory data one sound at a time and suppressing noise. This prepares the sound for transmission to the secondary auditory cortex encircling it, in which the successive sounds are processed. The right brain also focuses on simultaneous sound, the whole chord, so to speak, including hierarchies of harmonic relations and overtones, and separates out one note from the next, creating/perceiving changes in tone: a melody. In addition, hearing a sound too many times in a row or for too long will cause the neurons to stop firing. This is why those buzzing machines become part of the background and you are no longer conscious of them. People sleeping with a fan on? That is because it is harder to process silence than it is to process sound.

Plus so much more you most likely don't want to hear about, no pun intended.

We know that the left brain is the place to be if you need to finish your math homework, and since most rhythm is essentially a series of fractions, the left brain is actually where the rhythm of a piece is divulged. There is a clear distinction made that places people into one of two categories, tonality or rhythm, depending on thier strength. How many of you know a Druid who is completely tone-deaf but can play a hand drum around a fire like nobody's business? So what does this all mean to us in ritual? Music involves both sides of the brain, simultaneously, regardless of strength. We each will focus more on either the tonality or the rhythm, depending on where our strengths lie, but music is a unifying force, within ourselves and with one another. We all hear a little differently, but when music, especially making music is a group project, it is by far the clearest way to connect the folk and draw them together to create that group mind. Also, it take a lot of energy to make a sound, and when you have that many people together, using both halves of their brains as a group, it's no wonder music is listed as the single most effective way to raise energy in a rite.

Oh, there is so much more that has me really excited about all of this, but I am afraid I am either going to go too far into the physiology and loose some of you or that I will talk forever--which is always a possibility with me. :) On a side note, musicians store infinite numbers of melody lines in the hippocampus and can draw on them at will. This is why some people can hear a few bars and tell you exactly what song it is and continue the molody, even if they haven't heard the song in ages. In fact, music makes a much stronger memory than words alone, and giving someone a few spoken lyrics, the brain will still find the corresponding melody. The majority of individuals hear better from the left ear, since the left side of the body is controlled by the right brain. Conversely, musicians hear better from the right. Professional musicians favor the left hemisphere for musical processing. They link and organize fragments of music by very abstract relations, and left brain function is necessary for long term, deep and mulit-layered understanding.

So, even when using the same sheet music, no two people ever sing the same song. It's just this kind of diversity in the midst of unity that we need in ritual. That's why music is a ritual device. Music allows us to maintain our independence while simultaneously drawing us together as one group mind. I am finding all that I ever needed and more to explain what I have known to be true for years. Now I just have to explain how to use it and get other people to do this with me in ritual space.