Sacred Art of Boring Writing

Our Senior Druid, who happens to be a lawyer, performed a rite to the Sacred Scribes in honor of those who do "boring writing," and I am finding myself strongly drawn to this liturgy. As a cleric with an administrative vocation, this speaks to my core and purpose. I have always thrived on putting documentation in order, editing and formatting, proofreading and creating "boring" content such as bylaws and standard operating procedures--and this perspective of sacrality to this work rings in my bones. 

I recently threw my hat in the ring to be appointed interim Secretary for the Mother Grove, and the words I wrote for my application are heavily influenced by the conversation and liturgy created by our Jane Webster. Thank you, Jane!

The Sacred Art of Communication and the ADF Secretary

Communication is the method we use for transferring ideas from one person or entity to another. It is the foundational way in which we build and maintain relationships with the Kindreds and with one another.  When serving in a role requiring information from one place to be distilled down and shared in a concise, honest, and meaningful way, our communication must be as variable and flexible as our audience, as authentic and specific as permissible, and as verifiable and open to response as possible. When we help ensure others understand—not just checking the box when we have provided the information, we build trust with our audience. Our authenticity and willingness to give additional details encourages more questions, and as trust continues to build, the quality of the feedback we receive improves exponentially. 

The ADF Secretary is no different: They must remain unbiased in recording minutes, even (and especially) when they disagree. They must share in a way that promotes comprehension, including making information accessible to folks who receive data in different ways. They must encourage feedback and deliver those thoughts and ideas to the Mother Grove with equal, unbiased clarity to keep the Mother Grove well and truly informed of the stance of our folk. They must be willing to try new things while holding the balance between tradition, innovation, and integrity. As one of the people with the most freedom to share unfiltered speech with the folk, this position has responsibilities far-beyond personal reputation. The words of the Secretary reflect the organization as a whole no matter in which capacity they are speaking. In the wrong hands, this role has the power to cause as much harm as it has the potential for good. Therefore, the Mother Grove must be able to trust them to speak as their voice.

The art of communication is the dance of how we speak and how we listen as we strive to connect with one another in deeper, more intimate ways. Our communication at our shrines, whether through spoken prayers, postures, or offerings, allows us to make connections throughout the cosmos. Communication allows us to pass through to the divine to be heard and to receive blessings in return. Communication, then, is sacred. There are some who do not find the “boring” parts of our work to be inspirational or even spiritual, but are not the mundane parts of our world also part of the cosmos? As part of my awakening into my role as a priest, the clarity of my vocation was a surprise at first. While my career has given me ample space to express my love and talent for technical writing, the gift of my vocation lies in illuminating how that love and that expertise may be applied in all aspects of the work of Our Druidry. In short, I have the passion, understanding, drive, and integrity to do this work, and I want to give more to the organization. The role of ADF Secretary is one that I know I will enjoy and will perform well.

What Makes Me a Good Candidate?

The Mother Grove of our organization has been a virtual entity for decades, and the challenges that were once unique to those with no experience in remote work are now part of the typical skillset for most adults in the United States and beyond. As someone who has finished two degrees via remote education, has served on several boards (including the ADF Mother Grove), and managed staff at 30 different buildings across the state, I have a strong foundation that goes beyond the two pandemic years others have used to hone these skills. In addition to my past endeavors, I am currently serving well as the secretary for the Clergy Council as well as the minute keeper and document organizer for the Organizational Review Committee. While I am fortunate to have strong partners on both these teams, I am also accustomed to “training” new staff, making me a strong addition to a team with new members who may need patience and additional details or instructions. I have the capacity to take on additional duties while maintaining a work-life balance that allows me the time I need to focus on my other pursuits and responsibilities. 

When our policies, procedures, formats, language choices, and tone are aligned with the heart of our mission and vision and accurately reflect the way our work manifests in the world, we are at our best and most able to meet the needs of the folk we serve. I will bring my professionalism, experience, and willingness to learn to this role with all my heart. I truly believe this to be important and sacred work not only for the organization itself but for the folk of ADF and the communities we serve. Rev. Selnes, the outgoing Secretary, has done a tremendous job reinventing and updating the way we communicate with one another and with the folk, and I look forward to continuing that work, if I am selected to serve as ADF Secretary.

May the blessings of the Kindreds bless you and thank you for your dedication to the work of Our Druidry!

UPDATE: I didn't get it, but there is still plenty of other work to be done!

Update: Virtually Untamed Canceled

The previously announced companion event for the Untamed festival has officially been canceled due to lack of registrants, and honestly, I am pretty pleased with this decision. While I love the community of attending virtual events when I cannot attend in person, I am glad to see folks are taking up the in-person work of rebuilding relationships after such a long time spent apart. 

I am pretty burnt out, being one of the folks doing all the hard work to create online content while also working my day job. Staffing across health care continues to take its toll on the industry, and maintaining services is eating most of my time and focus. 

During this time of transition back, even with lingering COVID concerns, I am grateful for those of you who are spooling up as I approach a new level of burn-out. Thank you for providing places for us to pray and commune that are open and don't require more of me than my presence and attention. These events feed my soul and renew my strength for the work I must continue to do for the good of the tribe we call humanity. 

Blessings to you all!

The Next Rite of Passage

At 1:57 AM MDT in the company of care providers now known as The Birthday Party, my first grandson, River James, came into the world. He was 7 lbs 4.1 oz and 20 3/4" long. He has blonde hair and blue eyes and is the most beautiful and precious thing in the world.

A thing many of the current people in my life may not know is that I wasn't planning on having children when I was a young adult. I had big career goals, and I didn't want to have kids and then never be home for them. I like to commit fully to anything I do, and if I was going to be a mom, I wanted to be the mom those kids deserved, not send them off to daycare while I pursued my dreams. 

When I got pregnant with my eldest son, all of that was seemingly disappearing for me. I made the choice to be a mom, and that was where my primary efforts were going to be spent. I was 21 when he was born, and we had loads of good and difficult times as our family grew and changed together. I dropped out of school, mostly due to money issues, and went back to earn my associate's degree later, which has ironically led me to accomplish big career goals. My second child, Devin, was planned, and as seemingly par for the course, has been the most spirited of my progeny. She/They is turning into a beautiful mom already, and I am so proud of them. My youngest, diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder and crushing it in high school, is looking forward to meeting his nephew when they come home from the hospital today.

My Devin now lives across the street from us, deciding that they needed their mom during this pivotal time in life, and I cannot express the amount of joy that fills me when I reflect on these words and their meaning. I was enough, despite my flaws and mistakes, for them to want me to help them evolve as a mom. I did not often feel like enough, like I was definitely going to be the subject of many conversations with therapists (as most moms likely are), and hearing these words has been a balm on the guilt I feel for every one of my actions that may have caused harm to my precious children. 

I was invited to the birth, and I even got to cut the umbilical cord. Laboring with a soon-to-be new mom is a humbling experience, and I will treasure these memories for the rest of my days. There were no complications, and Devin was amazing. I am in awe of their strength and perseverance and their continued capacity to love. 

As I sit here with the whirlwind of labor, delivery, and antepartum fading into a sweet breeze of what is yet to come, I feel the liminality washing over me, reminding me that I am no longer who I was alone but am now becoming something and someone more. I stand beside those who have gone before me, who have survived to see their children bear children, and I hold my head with pride and purpose, with humility and attentiveness to their wisdom, as I do the work of Becoming these new experiences have afforded me. I am truly grateful for what I have already been given and the beautiful and wonderful things I see shimmering already on the horizon. Blessings abound. 

The Ides of March

“Beware the Ides of March.”

Historically in Ancient Rome, March 15 was the deadline for settling debts, so if you owed someone and were not able to pay, there were potential consequences coming your way. The Ides were actually just the midpoint of the month, typically the 15th or the 13th, depending on the number of days in the months.

“Ides” translates as “to divide,” and it was originally used to designate the Full Moon after the Romans moved to the solar calendar in 43 BCE. March was the first month of the year until January and February were added years later. So, March 15th was the midpoint of the first month of the year and the time to settle your annual debts. Sacred to Jupiter, the Chief God of the Roman Pantheon, the Ides of March occurred during the New Year festivities, and many folk customs involved dressing an old man in animal skins and driving him from the city, sometimes violently, to represent driving out the old year.

Most of us are familiar with this turn of phrase because of the Shakespearean play, Julius Caesar. In the play, a soothsayer (e.g., an Oracle) warns Caesar to “Beware the Ides of March.” The Soothsayer warns him a second time, and Caesar dismisses the man as a “dreamer.” Two Acts later, Caesar was assassinated on the steps of the Senate on March 15, the Ides of March.

What does this have to do with us in a modern context? Mostly, nothing. Ides is a word no longer in use in modern language, and when faced with a word we don’t know, particularly when the context is negative, we are likely to assume it means something bad. The phrase has been quoted often during the month of March whenever anything less-than-awesome happens, but there is no folk custom declaring it an unfavorable time of year. Something bad happened to one person, and we have internalized the potential for something bad to happen to us during that same time.

We are left with the idea of luck as we know it today. In Ancient times, fortune was based on individual destiny and the whims of the gods. But the idea that random bad things can happen, without sentient purpose, means that good things are equally as likely to randomly occur. And the notion of luck brings us hope, for when we are out of things we can do, something lucky may happen to alleviate our suffering.

Ides means divide. When something unlucky happens, the potential to divide us is as strong as the potential for us to come together. We have no control over what happens to us, but we do get to control how we react to it. I know it is hard to tap into my own compassion when in crisis mode, and it is a gift to see where I have room yet to grow.

Instead of “bewaring” the ides of march, my hope is that we be aware of what has the potential to divide us. May we all find room to grow together when faced with unlucky circumstances.

Announcement: Virtually Untamed

Greetings and Blessings, Community!

I am so excited to see in-person events offered in an ethical and healthy way, and I am even more excited that Untamed is finally moving forward! Long in the works, the vision for this event reflects my own blessings for the Front Range Pagan Community: safe space to gather in fellowship with like-minded individuals who want to share in the beauty of community. 

Even with my excitement, I will not be attending in person. The precautions I must take to keep my loved ones safe might look different than they do for others, but we are all making choices based on our own circumstances. 

Rev. William and the folks at Mountain Ancestors and HearthFire Sanctuary still believe in the importance of gathering and inclusivity, so we are pleased to be able to support those of us who are unable to show up in person with a virtual companion event! In previous years, Mountain Ancestors and HearthFire Sanctuary has held space at many local events for offerings, ritual, and divination, and we continue that tradition this year in a virtual space. 

Virtually Untamed is a day-pass event beginning with an invitation to the dawn and ending with a bardic circle where we hope to have the guests of the event share their songs, poetry, stories, and art with the community. This event will not be recorded.

At any time during the event, Rev. Missy or Rev. William will be available for 10-minute private divination sessions. If you need more time, they are happy to set up a separate pastoral meeting with you after the event.

We are currently taking Workshop proposals. If interested, please send a description of your session to: info@mountainancestors.org. You may also send in topics you would like to see someone else present.

For more information, check out Virtually Untamed page on the event website.

We look forward to “seeing” you there!

In Like a Lion...

When I was a child, I was always fascinated with trite phrases. I enjoyed their quotable nature and how people looked at you like you were smart when you were able to recite them at a relevant time. For example, when someone (probably my little sister) was fatalistically rage-quitting a project because a part of it didn’t go as planned, I would quip, “don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater!” Yeah, I was that kid.

In school, we had a bulletin board that my teachers would redecorate at the beginning of the month, and my favorite was always “March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb”—mostly because of the lion and lamb-themed art projects we would get to do. True to form, I still think of these clever turns-of-phrase and how they are relevant to various aspects of my life.

As we finally put 2021 to rest, this quote definitely came to mind. We rolled into 2022 like we were being chased by a lion! 2021 ended with fires and big snow and led straight into 2022 with threats of war in Kazakhstan, a volcano eruption in the South Pacific leveling half an island nation, resulting tsunamis as far north as Alaska, tornados in Florida, snow in the Carolinas, and underneath it all, an unprecedented, global surge of the Omicron variant. And the lion roared.

While the roar of the lion and all that it carries with it into 2021, the little quote from a little me give me hope, because after the lion stops roaring, the lambs will appear.

It is fitting to think of this during the early part of the year. After the winter holidays are over, many of our Ancestors began the planning for the promised Spring. The lambs who have spent the winter in their mother’s wombs are born, and the gift of milk came to the households, adding much-needed winter protein to the stores. Occasionally, a lamb would be born too early, before there would be any shoots of grass to feed it when it weaned, and these lambs graced the tables to remind the people that they already had what they needed to get them through.

Right now, the lion is still roaring, but there is hope on the horizon. As we look ahead into the coming year to plan what our focus will be and how we will achieve those new goals, we can find comfort in the fact that we are exactly where we need to be, everything is on time, and the lambs will be here before we know it. 

May the gift of perspective illuminate what is already around us to carry us through to the Promise of Spring. 

Stories Behind Our Traditions & The Life Expectancy of Trees

When I was young, my parents would get my sister and I all bundled up to go pick out our tree for the holidays every year. We’d arrive at the “farm” (which was actually just a parking lot, since all the trees were cut down and transported to the city where we lived) and wander around until we found the perfect tree in our price-range section. We’d circumambulate it, marveling at how magnificent it will look in our living room, the voices of little girls raised to the pitch of excitement. We’d call over my dad, so we could make sure it wasn’t too tall by checking the height against him, because “if it was taller than him, it wouldn’t fit in the trailer.” Then, we’d race over to let the seller know we had found our tree! He’d get up from his stool or turn around and down at our wee faces, saying, “Well, let’s see what you’ve picked.” Racing off ahead of him, we’d jump up and down as we pointed at our prize. My dad would confirm, pay him the fee, and they’d throw the tree through some netting for ease of travel.

When we got home, there was sawing to make sure it was level followed by carefully seating and screwing it into the tree stand. My mom would fill the basin with water, and we would leave the tree to “rest” overnight so the branches would settle and it would warm up after being outside for who knows how long. I remember sitting on the floor in front of the tree, imagining where the bulbs would go the next evening after my dad put the lights on.

After the new year, the tree would come down, and we would cut the wood for the fireplace. I always thought it was a beautiful life with a dignified ending for a tree to serve as the centerpiece for the holidays in the home of a family. Looking back now, it’s funny that I never actually wondered about the other trees, the ones that were not chosen. What happened to the trees that weren’t sold? What did they do with them??

I imagined they would use them much the same way we did and all those trees would become firewood or they would use them to build things. It wasn't until the first time I went with my dad to drop off something large at the dump that I saw my first tree in the garbage. So much for the majestic ending to being cut down to serve as a holiday tree!

My next meditations on the fate of trees led to realize that trees, all trees, have a life expectancy, just like humans and other species of animals. I mean, it's no surprise I assumed they were eternal. We hear about trees with amazingly long lives, such as the Methuselah pine in the White Mountains of California who is over 4,700 years old. And trees, like all living things, are born, grow, breathe, live, and eventually die. Pine trees typically live for 300-500 years when left on their own. Fir trees, like the Noble Fir popular for holiday trees, have a typical lifespan of 600-700 years. Another popular tree, the Douglas Fir, usually lives for about 400 years. Coastal Douglas Firs can live for more than 1,300 years!

Once upon a time, these evergreen trees were used for medicinal purposes like treating colds and flus. The wood was unsuitable for timber, so they were not actually cut down. Early decorating included the use of branches in the home and entire trees, living and breathing, were decorated outside. The first tree to be cut down is rumored to be the result of an altercation between local pagans and a Benedictine Monk in the sixteenth century who was so frustrated with their continual celebration of Saturnalia that he chopped down their decorated tree in anger. So, the pagans brought it inside for the remainder of the season (there is absolutely no evidence whether or not this is true, but that is kinda the point of this post. Keep reading).  

Many of the traditions we now hold dear have full, rich backstories that we may not know. Too often, the origin stories of why we do what we do are lost to time and live only with the Ancestors.  I don't know why we always went to that particular lot for our tree when I was little. I suspect it had to do with the location, cost, and perhaps a little of my dad's desire to "have a guy" for everything--a trait he inherited from his father before him. My father, of blessed memory, may not be able to tell me why, but the story of what lives on in my memory. 

We don't get a live tree at my house, but like most pagans, I have built plenty of my own traditions since my kids were wee. My favorite was getting the kids up before dawn on Solstice morning to ring bells over the sunrise fire and sing Happy Birthday to the Sun, and then go inside and have pancakes or waffles. As they've grown, we don't have room for all of those practices anymore, especially since I they have their own lives, priorities, and homes to manage, but I am looking forward to seeing how my grandchildren receive the gift of these stories from when their parents were young, when I was in charge of creating the magic and memories for them.

During this holiday season, I encourage you to consider the things you do every year and remember why those are part of your own traditions. These are the stories that make the holidays truly come alive and give meaning to everything we do for future generations to come.

May the abundant blessings of the yuletide be plentiful for you and yours.