I’m rapidly approaching my 8th blogging anniversary. I started out writing short posts on a free blogger site, demonstrating the truth of Ray Bradbury’s statement that the first million words every writer writes are crap. I got better and built a small audience, then in January 2013 I moved to Patheos. Under the Ancient Oaks readership is now 5x what it was three years ago, and I’ve leveraged that into a book that’s tentatively scheduled for publication early next year.
But every time I start to think I know what I’m doing I’m reminded that I still have a lot to learn.
The Pagan internet – which is always ripe for a controversy – has been particularly rough this year. I’ve been in the middle of a lot of it. This is a good time for me to step back and take a hard look at what I wrote, why I wrote it, and what reactions that writing generated. This is what I’ve learned this year.
- If you take a position on a controversial issue, people will get mad at you. Sometimes they get mad because you didn’t take their side. Sometimes they get mad because you expressed a strong opinion on something they think is unimportant, or that they’re tired of hearing about. And sometimes they get mad because you dared to draw a line and say “this is unacceptable.” My goal is to always exercise good judgment, but some issues demand you take a stand.
- I don’t like people being mad at me, for any reason. I like my Gods and ancestors being mad at me a lot less. And I like being mad at myself because I wasn’t true to my conscience even less than that. So it’s not that I don’t value your opinion, it’s just that there are other opinions I value more.
- I don’t always get it right the first time. Or the second time. I do my best to listen to critics, particularly those who engage with the content of a post – if I’m wrong, I want to get it right. But by the third time you’re telling me I’m wrong, it’s safe to assume we simply aren’t going to agree about the matter in question.
- Being passionate about something is awesome. Caring about only one thing often makes you a jerk. If you dismiss other peoples’ concerns (even “first world problems”) because they’re just not as important as the life-changing, world-upending concerns you have, or if you constantly steer the conversation back to your Number One Concern, you may be turning off potential allies. And being a jerk.
- Even intelligent, mature people often have trouble separating issues from personalities – and that includes me. This is particularly difficult when a contentious person is involved (see the item above). But working through difficult issues demands that we focus on the problem, not on the messenger. Even Trump supporters have legitimate complaints.
- It’s easy to mistake passion for dogmatism. This is my greatest personal regret in this year’s blogging. I’ve been unable to clearly communicate that while yes, I think my beliefs and practices are right, and yes, I’m going to continue to advocate for them, that doesn’t mean I think less of you and your beliefs and practices. Not only is it possible to act as though your beliefs are absolutely true while understanding that they might be absolutely wrong, I can do nothing else if I’m going to both practice deeply and respect the practices of others.
- “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds” – Ralph Waldo Emerson. There are too many Pagans who think they’re courtroom lawyers and their mission is to find the least little inconsistency and then hammer away at it, while ignoring the theme and major points of the post. I do my best to ignore them – I’m not always successful.
- Pagans aren’t as passionate about politics as we like to think we are. My political posts have been some of my most poorly read posts all year. Either I’m a lousy political commentator (which is a distinct possibility) or you folks just don’t like reading about politics nearly as much as you let on.
- Boundaries make us uncomfortable. I like to think of religious boundaries as brightly painted curbs – they’re easy to step over, but they tell you when you’re moving from one tradition or concept to another. In reality, though, religious boundaries are more like beaches, the boundaries between the Land and the Sea – they’re indeterminate and they shift all the time.
- Your real friends will tell you they think you’re wrong and remain your friend.
Later today, I’m leaving for just short of two weeks in Ireland, Scotland, and England. I’ve been to Ireland once and England twice – this will be my first trip to Scotland. We have a traveling party of six: one Methodist and five Pagans… and our Methodist is a history nerd. We’ll be visiting a lot of ancient sites, and I finally get to see the Gundestrup Cauldron. I’ll have lots to write about (and lots of pictures) when I get back.
The blog will go on as usual. I’ve been busy and I have new posts scheduled for each of my regular posting days (Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays) – no recycled material this time. I won’t be online much so I probably won’t respond to comments, and I won’t be on Facebook much at all. But the “delete” button is really easy to use on an iPhone, so play nice (which most of you do almost all the time anyway).
If you usually find my new posts on my Facebook page, consider subscribing to e-mail updates using the widget on the right side of the screen. Or just check my main page at the usual posting times.
I’d be lying if I said all the arguments – and the issues behind them – haven’t bothered me. They have. This trip is the perfect opportunity for me to get away, forget about the discord, reconnect to the core of my religious practice, and reset my priorities for my personal practice, my group practice, and my writing.
Enjoy the posts I have queued up over the next two weeks. I’m sure I’ll have plenty to write about when I get back.
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