To Exist or to Subsist, that is the question

In a recent post on the Words of the Ancient Wise blog (shameless plug) one of the participants asked Pam and I a rather deep question. Specifically regarding the nature and reality of Diety. If I may paraphrase the question: "Are the ancient Gods 'real', that is, do they exist independently of us? Or do they subsist, existing in reality as a result of our belief in them?" There are several other possibilities that are not mentioned here, and to be fair, I will bring them up first. In addition to the two mentioned above are, they do NOT exist, but are products of our imagination, they do NOT exist, and are labels we apply to the unknown. However, to get to the answer right away, I believe that while we have interrelated positions in this Cosmos, the Gods exist independently of our  beliefs and existence, and that, hereticaly, we exist independent of theirs.

I am going to wax slightly philosophic before directly responding to the question. The question of subjective and objective reality comes into play with these thoughts. To answer this I will refer back the the founder of Stoicism himself, Zeno. Zeno began by asserting the existence of the real world. "What do you mean by real?" asked the Sceptic.

"I mean solid and material. I mean that this table is solid matter." "And God," said the Sceptic, "and the soul? Are they solid matter?"

"Perfectly solid," says Zeno; "more solid, if anything, than the table."

So in short, if the Gods exist, they must do so in a real way, that is, in a way that is allowed for in our cosmology. A God "everlasting, without body, parts, or passions; of infinite power, wisdom, and goodness; the Maker, and Preserver of all things both visible and invisible" must by necessity reside beyond our universe.

So how do we know that the Gods are real? For me it is the same way that I know justice is real, that love is real, that hope is real. Some may argue that these are 'just concepts' and not real like the table. For purposes of definition, real is something that has real impact on an individual (back to the subjective/objective tension). A table is real, in that it impacts the mind through the sense. Justice, and injustice, impact us in the same way, by providing data through the senses to the mind.

How are the Gods like this? It can be feelings,  but as Scrooge has famously been quoted to say, these might be an 'undigested bit of meat.' More often, in my case, it is the accumulations of a myriad of impressions, insights, intuitions, coincidences and yes, feelings.

Our purpose, and that of the Gods, overlap to a degree. In a real way, we are partners in a particular project. That project is to support and maintain Phusis, life and the possibility of life, in what ever form it may come in. It is to support the natural cycles, processes and changes in the Cosmos that basically keep this delicate balance of Logos and Chaos going.

[Someone I am close to had asked for a sign that they weren't crazy to consider following a particular God, moments later were called out to witness the circling of six golden eagles around the full moon in mid-morning (I was a personal witness to this). Possibly meaningless coincidence, but uncanny when considering the traditional meanings of six, the importance of that bird in relation to the God in question, and the significance of the full moon in relation to the position they felt they were being called to. It was a pretty clear response.]

The Longest Night

We capped the weekend off with our traditional Longest Night family gathering. The tradition is simple. Get together as close to the solstice as possible, have fun, give out PJs, housecoats, slippers, or anything that has to do with sleeping. Then have more fun. So this year we gathered for a wonderful dinner. I had picked up Pam's mum earlier in the day. Josh, Lin's bf, was in attendance, as was Derrick, Em's bf and his two year old son, Nathaniel. We had a huge roast chicken diner, with fixings galore, then retired to the living room for egg nog and the traditional handing out of PJs. Those who wanted to put them on (Josh wearing his for most of the holidays!) and we went back into the kitchen for a game of cards. All in all a great night, fun was had by all.

Io, Saturnalia!

Hard on the heals of the Thorhaven Vigil, gapped by a short nap, we began the preparations for Red Maple Grove's Yule Vigil. Pam and I volunteered to prepare this year's rite as a good old fashioned Saturnalia. Pam did most of the heavy lifting, editing the Scipt, while I contributed a few points and pieces, while simultaneously preparing for my role as Odin and my oath.

We included some songs, Solstice Song, which I wrote as a request from Lee for a special inclusion to our ritual. We also included Jenni's Io, Saturnalia (you can hear the mp3 here). With it's rousing chorus of Io, Saturnalia! it became the greeting for the evening (and subsequent morning.) We had even purchase some fresh holly to place at the base of the tree, but of course, we forgot it at home. It wouldn't be an ADF rite if we hadn't forgotten something. I credit this wonderful quirk of my rituals to Farrell, and the ever involved presence of his patron (if you want to know more, you should ask him). This wonderful opportunity for spontaneity beautifully offsets my slight OCD tendencies, and is a good reminder to all of us that we are NEVER in control. We either participate with the natural flow, or we struggle futilely against it.

Of course Judith was there, and as the amazingly stabilizing influence that she is, came with offering in hand, a bunch of sage. When she discovered that we had forgotten the holly (which Michael was offer to the tree), she gladly offered Michael the sage she had brought for her own offering. Of course, Michael was thrilled to use sage in what was essentially a Roman ritual, because it allowed him to insert a little of his own spirituality into the rite (if you want to know more, again I would suggest you go to the source.)

The ritual itself went very well. By the time Pam and I showed up at the tree ring, there was already a crowd gathered. It was wonderful to see the grove again, and we had a few surprise guests from Thornhaven, and Regional Druid, Daniel Lamarche, was also there! It was definately going to be party. Everyone was in a great mood, spirits were high and it was time to start.

We went through the opening sequence, and everyone joined in with a rousing Io, Saturnalia! This was going to be good rite! As we proceeded through the rite, we came to the Two Powers meditation. I had written something very specific to the day, and to the spot we were standing on. It was WAY too long for use in ritual though, especially standing out in the snow, with the sun setting in the west and any hint of heat quickly dissipating. I found myself jumping paragraphs and summarizing on the fly. For anyone interesting in the full meditation, probably better used indoors and during a personal ritual, use the link above. We proceeded with the rite, each taking their turn to participate.

The offerings went well, with Lee dedicating the Fire. We had brought along a bbq lighter, but it wouldn't light. Lee came with multiple back ups however, but they too were being awkward. After trying the bbq lighter a couple of times myself, I turned to Farrell and said, "Would you mind?" A quizzical look came over his face, and then he understood what I was asking. I tried the lighter again, and it worked. At the same time, Lee's lighters finally took and the flame was well started in the storm lantern. Erin acted as the opener of the Deep Gate, and played her part beautifully.

When it came time for Michael to place the holly at the base of the tree, he used Judith's offering of sage instead. The gates were opened and a song followed. Farrell requested that the outdwellers leave our rite in peace. We ended the rite with another song, and hit pause, leaving the gates open through the night, that the gods might lend their energy to our rite (and to the coming dawn.)

We hit pause on the ritual and partook of Bruce's generous gift of hot choclate to everyone (Yay Bruce!) then cleaned up and headed back to Lee's place, with Lee carrying the flame.

Back at Lee's place, everyone was greeted with a hearty Io, Saturnalia! as they entered. Once we had reached a critical mass, Pam and I unveiled the gift we had gotten for each family. One of the traditions that surrounded the ancient Saturnalia was that of giving small clay figures to the participants. In honour of that tradition, we gave out small ceramic cookie jars (complete with cookies) to each family. They loved the thought (probably because they were cute!)


Erin handed out gift bags with a Ferrero Roche and little candles.

There was a wonderful meal (thanks to Jess and all), and everyone had a good time talking. Lee's grand-daughter (and her moms) dropped by for a visit, and the house was in and out throughout the night. Michael provided the Omen for the ritual partway through the night.

There was so much wonderful activity, that Judith, Michael and I sat together at the table and worked through the omen, and I took notes based on the interpretations, which I could then pass on to anyone who was interested later on in the evening. Judith was a great help as well with her beautiful Ogham cards (that she commissioned and designed herself). The Omens were:

Huath: rest, recuperation, pause from strife. One image is sitting around the campfire resting, aware that on the morrow the quest resumes.





Ailm, fir (pine): the long view. Now is the time to consider the long term, to plan for far ahead, to look into the distance.



Fern, (alder): protection. This is a protection few. It suggests keeping our eyes open and watching where we're placing our feet as we walk ahead. Look with your eyes where your feet are going. It also reminds us that our deities are watching over us. They are protecting us.




To me, the meaning seems clear. The last big event that our grove had participated in was the Fire in our Hearth, aka the Isaac thing. We have rested from that long enough, and it is time to start considering (taking the long view) of where or what our next contribution would be to the Ottawa community. Perhaps another 'event'? That remains to be discussed.

We had a great night of fun and discussion. I asked everyone what they thought of my musings on rebirth, and the conversations continued. Pam and I cut out around 11 pm, because we were due to drive my mother to airport to in the wee hours. We returned to the vigil, and learned that Farrell earned the badge for Fire Warden, by preventing the candle from melting away. The fire was tranfered to a new candle and the flame continued unabated.


Sadie also gave out some gifts, a book for Pam and somehow was led to give me an Ogham card set! Perfect for my learning of the different omens, ahead of working on the Olympian Oracle.


As we finished off the festivities we prepared to wrap up the rite in Lee's side yard. The offerings made, and as we thanked the Nature Spirits a flock of crows launched into flight with raucous approval. Dawn broke as we finished up. We gave thanks for the omen and the gifts and the celebration, and closed the gates. All in all it was a wonderful rite.

Hail Sunna!

Recollections and reflections on the Thornhaven Solstice Ritual.

I had been planning for this for weeks, bought a set of Runes, created a Rune Poem to help me prepare. I was going to act as Vetgam, the Wanderer, one of the names of Odin. I had also prepared my first Sumbel Oath. This was going to be a very big night.

There were many preparations to make, and Pam took care of the lion's share of getting together all of the food and offerings. I was explaining my oath to Irisa, when she graciously volunteered to act a witness to it. She is thousands of miles away, and asked that I send it to her. But I hadn't even written it yet! As soon as the thought entered my head, the verses started to flow. It was poetry, but unlike anything I had ever written.

I sat to write my oath, the words and ideas flowing onto the page. I read it to Pam and she seemed genuinely shocked. It was a powerful oath, but she said it didn't sound like me. I assured her that this came from my heart and mind, but it was so unlike any other poetry I had ever written, my First Oath for example, that it seemed somehow alien. As Apollo is my God, his influence over me is strong, and I have felt that evidence (for me) of his power is shown through the precision of the verse forms I write in. This new oath was free flowing, strangely full of internal rhymes, a mix of imagery and reality. Pam said it was like someone else had had a hand in writing it. Both of us realized at the same time that it was Odin. There was a strong feel of the Rune Poem surround the Oath. He and Apollo were apparently working together to get me through this.

I asked Julie, Pam, Irisa and Diane to witness my oath (2 present, 2 distant). All agreed that this was a strong oath, but if I felt I should do it, the do it I should.

The trip to Thornhaven was long, and Pam and I talked. We had a wonderful conversation with Irisa on the way, and though we arrived later than anticipated, we were ahead of the majority of the participants. In order to keep an air of mystery and secrecy about the coming 'Visitor' we were to keep a low profile.

Julie showed me to the living room and gave me a cloak and staff for my outfit. We tied a bandage around my left eye. Most importantly, she left me to meditate. This was an important role, and I wanted to embrace it fully. So I meditated, and prayed that Odin and Apollo would fill and guide me through this evening, and that their wills would be done. The ritual would be taking place outside the house, in the Mead Hall.

The group of celebrants left for the hall after their preparations, and I was left alone.

The ritual began, and I went outside. It was extremely cold. I had consciously decided to not wear gloves or scarf and to wander with my coat and cloak open. Outside, Brad was tending the torches outside the mead hall, with mixed success. We spoke briefly and deeply, but frequent interruptions would drive me into the darkness. It was starting to get lonely. I witness a magic about him. Twice in his attempts to keep the torches lit, his entire hand exploded in the blue flames of the fuel. He was surprised but merely shook it off. This further increased my level of loneliness. He was kind, but very different from me.

As the ritual wore on, I could see the faces in the warm glow of the Mead Hall through the windows. They were laughing, lighting candles, listening with rapt attention to the ritual. They decorated the tree. I stood outside, growing colder and colder, and felt like the outsider. Brad was friendly with me, but he could walk in any time he liked. I was truly alone. My hands and feet were hurting now, past the cold buzz of a brief exposure.The cloak protected my face, but there was no body heat to spare for the limbs. I was in pain. The staff was a frozen rock in my hands and I could hardly hold it. I yearned for the warmth of the fire and of my friends, and did not know when I would see them. For a preciously brief moment, I was the outsider, the stranger, the beggar on the street, with no warmth, and worse, no hope.

I was lost in thought, in the blackness of a cloudless, star-filled night. When the time came to enter the rite, I was shivering, my hands were cramped, and the shuffle I had thought of adopting came naturally as I drew into the Mead Hall. I was also confused, my typical surety gone. I could not even feel grateful for the gift of warmth, just the need for it. I banged on the door three times with my staff, and the door was opened. The place was quiet, and the laughter I had been longing for was silent. The hood was drawn far over my face, so I could not see their faces, and they could not see mine.

I shuffled into the room,  and I was disoriented. All this was so strange to me. I was guided to a chair by the fire, while someone spoke some ritual phrases of welcome. They didn't mean anything to me. I was too cold, too hungry. Finally, a mead horn was passed to me, and shivering, I drank draught after draught. I was handed a plate of food, which I ate greedily and noisily. The room remained silent. I could not see anyone, but I knew they were staring at me, watching the desperation with which I ate and drank.

My breathing began to slow, and finally, the shivering reduced. I passed the half eaten plate back, and sat quietly, breathing deeply to inhale the warmth.

Finally, I spoke, the first lines of my script coming to my mouth from the depths of my memory. "I am Vetgam, the Wander, known by many names. Seeker of Knowledge, Seeker of Truth." I remove the hood to reveal my bandaged head, one eye looking about the room. I continued with the script, feeling the victory welling up within me when I said "Crying I brought forth the runes!" and held the bag up for all to see.

All were quiet, some serene, some confused, a few frightened. I called them forward to dare and take a rune. Almost all there drew, and as they drew, I felt myself shift and dance and see the weave and the weft of meaning. As I consulted the Rune Poem, I would offer and add additional insight. Many times the same rune was drawn, Isa, the cold slippery ice of winter's hidden depths. Each time a different interpretation came forward unbidden. On only one occasion did I not offer the first reading. A child of the north, one dedicated to the Old Gods, came forward and stated "I make my own destiny, but I would seek your wisdom." When he drew from the pouch, he handed me the stone. Looking, I handed it back and said, "What do you see?" When he had paused, and stated his understanding, I confirmed it and added an additional layer of meaning and responsibility. Here was a strong leader, a fearless warrior. I had never met the man, yet I knew him.

The readings were nearly complete, yet there seemed to be some hesitancy, some confusion. So I called to any who would dare to draw a second time. One stood forth, and reaching into the pouch withdrew the same stone as as first. The message would not be rejected. I asked if there was understanding of the message. "It's hard!" came the reply. "Try losing an eye!" I retorted jokingly. The tension broke and all were laughing. The final rune drawn, I stood and made my way slowly to the door. Calling out my final challenge to head the messages given, I left the mead hall.

I slowly wandered back to the house, and removed the items of costume. I meditated on the meaning of this singular experience. I had been there, and yet it felt different, distant. Like watching it through another's eyes.

After some time reorienting myself to the world, I causally wander back into to Mead Hall and was welcomed in as if it was the first time they had seen me. It wasn't an act, for many understood that the first appearance was indeed that of the Wanderer. I ate, drank and visited with everyone, enjoying the friendship, warmth and entertainment.

Finally it came time for the Sumbel. Auz (the known/unknown warrior) stood to lead us in the Toasts to the Gods, and to the Kindred. The third round came, and it was my turn to read my Oath. All were respectful, and when I sat, I was asked to explain what each part meant. When I describe the stanzas, and the three oaths, Auz asked what the consequences would be of failing to fulfill my oath.

The first oath, that of completing the Dedicant Program prior to next year's end, was backed up by shame. "Not good enough!" he said  and the rest of the grove agreed. If I was going to feel shame, it would not be mere embarassment. I then decided that if I fail to acheive my DP, I have vowed to take out a Half page add in the Oak Leaves to announce my failure. They agreed that this would be sufficient

The second was for the completion of the Stoic Training. I originally suggested that I would burn my books. Auz rejected this out of hand, saying that the destruction of knowledge is unworthy of anyone. He suggested instead that I donate my books to the grove's library (he is not part of the grove). This was as big a deal for me, as I love not only reading books, but possessing them as well.

The final consequecne, was surrounding the creation and publication of the Greek oracle. There was already a sacrifice involved (giving up TV for a year), but should I fail, I would remove everything from my life and retreat (without electronics) to a lonely place to contemplate and complete the work.

So these were the consequences, and they were agreed to by the witnesses, and we drank to it. The rest of the night passed in fun, in discussion, in reflection. Many slept, Pam and I stayed by the fire, dozing on and off. At dawn we held the final part of the ritual, Hailing Sunna in the east. We stood in the snow of the pre-dawn light, shivering, tired and joyful.

Following the conclusion of the ritual, we had breakfast together, sat and talked some more, while one or the other dozed. We finally left at around 9 am, and headed home to sleep for a few hours before preparing for the next ritual that afternoon, our Saturnalia!

If I Could Keep Time in a Bottle...

I would probably drink it right about now. Yesterday, between various work bits, I transfered the Rune Poem to audio so I can practice it for tonight. I will still probably have to have a cheat sheet, but I want it to flow well. We picked up some Yule stuff, and the gifts for our Saturnalia. My department also had it's party, and they had a Roman theme, so I yoinked all of the togas (really just a cloth ribbon that hangs across one shoulder) for the rite on Saturday.

Despite the crazy buzyness that was last night, we got up early enough this morning to do 'Mikey D's' for breakfast! Everyone had homemade Sausage/Egg/Cheese on an English Muffin (whole wheat for a slight nod to health) and some hash brown patties. Pretty much everyone sat around the table having a nice start to their day. Derrick ever showed up, but made the mistake of lying down before breakfast and was out like a light.

So the weekend looks incredibly full and there is still much to do.

Little Brothers Rock!

Yesterday was a good day, as many of them are in my very charmed life. During lunch I continued to work on the Rune Poem, with a lot of help for Arthur Shipkowski (MA for ADF). I combined the three extant Rune Poems (Icelandic, Norwegian & Anglo-Saxon) and made some adjustments to the underlying Anglo-Saxon. It was fun. Thanks Art. Also, Julie provided the final script for Friday's ritual, and it looks great!

Second on the list, Erik from the College of Stoic Philosophers (and the New Stoa) responded to my assignment and proceeded to send the next one (on Sellars' book 'Stoicism')! But in the interest of the holidays, he gave me an additional week to get it done. More fun, but since I have already done quite a bit of work on Sellars, at least this first assignment should be easy.

André was over last night to help me work on the hallway floor. Thanks to him, we were able to get quite a bit finished! The best part of the night was when he looked at what I had accomplished already and said, "You did all this in two nights? That is incredible! This is freaking hard work!" We spent the balance of the evening (with short breaks for dinner, Christmas cookies, and picking up loved ones) ripping, cutting, marking, laying, slapping, smacking, sweating, cursing, re-marking, re-cutting, re-cursing, and in the end achieved a work of art! Still needs to be finished, and with the accumulation of responsibilities over the next several days, the completed floor may end up being more delayed than I would like, but we will be plugging away at it.

Pam has been getting the Saturnalia ritual ready for Saturday (How appropriate!) It is looking great too. We have some elements to pick up tonight while we are out for Lin's NATS rehearsal (see above regarding accumulating responsibilities).

Finally, one of those moments occurred last night. You know, the moments that lasting memories are made of. While André and I were working away at the floor, Pam decided that she was going make Christmas cookies with Katie (pictured here) who was also there (as was Bill, who had gone to hang out with Josh and Derrick). They measured and mixed and blended and baked away happily as they chatted away, making small talk. Katie kept tasting the frosting while they waited for the dough to chill. When the dough was ready, Bill came up and helped them cut the cookies into shape. A few short baking minutes later and the cookies were ready. Pam called out to everyone in the house (André was gone to get Chantal at this point) and in moments the table was surrounded with laughter and sprinkles and frosting. Everyone was into it, including Derrick and Josh! As soon as Emilie found out (she was at work) she asked to be picked up so she could join in the fun. At that point, everyone stopped, mid-cookie as it were, and the fun resumed unabated when she joined the table. We have pictures, and a little video. The cookies will likely only last a few days. But, because Pam was open to an opportunity, we also have a wonderful memory, as do the kids. Thanks, my love, for making life flavourful.

A Study is to Studying as a Living Room is to...

Living? Yesterday, I began, continued, and completed 3 different projects. That is to say, I began one project, continued another, and completed a third.

The project I began was a study of the Runes. I am attending the Thornhaven right this Friday night (eek that is only 2 days away!) To that end, I have built a study sheet to teach myself the Runes. I have used elements from the old Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem, along with the meanings and names of the Runes, to create my own mnemonic Rune Poem that uncovers the meaning of each individual Rune over three verses. I haven't quite completed it yet, however, the time is fast approaching.

I continued work on the hallway floor. Tearing up the old subfloor is diffucult and exhausting work, but I manage about 1/3 of it each night. There are hundreds of screws and nails to tear out, all of which are covered by a half inch of thin set. I am using a heavy duty ice scraper, levered over a 10 lb sledge hammer, to pop the floor up from the screws, then coming along afterwards and removing the screws and nails. Once this is done, it will be short work to lay down the next bit of floating floor.

The project I completed, and this was at 2 am this morning, is the first assignment of the College of Stoic Philosophers. The assignment is a response to a Questionnaire on S.E. Cannavo's Think to Win. I am inordinately proud of this irreverent little 5 pager. I honestly feel that I have accomplished something, that I have finally FINISHED something! Why am I going to all of this work for an uncredited college? My personal aim is to be a mentor under this school, and I know that this is going to take some time and study. The discipline that I develop by completing these assignments will serve me well in my many future projects.

By the way, the title of today's blog is a reference to where I spent the majority of my evening working on the Logic assignment.

A lot more happened yesterday, but I will save some of that for 'slow news' days.

Crossing the Streams

I HAVE been posting some essays on the ADF lists lately, related to Stoicism, and I was gently prompted by a dear friend to think about my blog again. So I am going to go and dig through the posts and bring them up here.

Pam and I are still posting our comments to the Words of the Ancient Wise blog. I am so glad we started that this year. So much cause for deep thought and conversation. I love that I can talk to her about the important, philosophical parts of life. My impression is that this is a rare gift, and that most couples only deal in deepness when there is a crisis. So this is what being blessed feels like.