Are We Living in a New Victorian Era?

May 25, 2021 By John Beckett

It’s a cliché that bad times make for good art. I’ve been wondering when we’ll see the good art from these times for several years. I’m also aware that such things are often only noticed – or at least, appreciated – well after the fact.

And then last Sunday I watched the final episode of The Nevers, the new HBO show set in the late Victorian period. A week or so before I got word that the Netflix show The Irregulars – set in the late Victorian period, that I enjoyed – had been canceled. I’ve been watching Penny Dreadful virtually on a loop over the past year. I finally watched Enola Holmes – it’s good, though considerably lighter in tone than the rest of these. And then an internet search turned up this list of 55 TV shows set in the Victorian era.

Hmmm…

On one hand, me noticing a few TV shows and movies doesn’t make it a trend. And even if it is a trend, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a commentary on our times. I remember when you couldn’t change the channel (all three of them) without hitting a Western – that doesn’t mean the 1960s were the Wild West version 2.0.

Further, the Victorian era was a great time for English literature, including the beginnings of modern science fiction and horror. It had authors like Arthur Conan Doyle, Oscar Wilde, Robert Louis Stevenson, Bram Stoker, and Jules Verne (who was French but whose work was translated into English and numerous other languages). There’s a lot of good source material to work with from this era.

However…

Something about this feels right… and not in a good way.

A quote of uncertain origin says that history doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes. I think it’s worth exploring the rhymes I’m hearing.

A word for the historical purists. The Victorian era encompasses the reign of Queen Victoria from 1837 to 1901, a period of 63 years. Victoria was the longest reigning monarch in British history until Elizabeth II passed her in 2015. For the purposes of this essay, I’m talking about the late Victorian period and slightly beyond – from the mid to late 1880s to the early to mid 1900s. We could call this the “Greater Edwardian Era” and perhaps we should. I’ll leave that to the professional historians, as it’s not particularly relevant to our discussions here.

A time of technological transition

Technology has been growing at an ever-increasing rate since the beginning of the Industrial Age 300 years ago or so. But that rate really picked up in the Victorian era.

This was a time of transition: from gas light to electric light, from telegraph to telephone, and from horses to automobiles. Our time has seen the explosion of the internet and all it’s brought, especially smartphones.

No technology is socially neutral. The automobile had a huge impact on how we live, especially in North America. All the fossil fuels we’ve been burning over the last century have changed our climate. We’re only starting to understand the impact of today’s new technology, and we’re still not sure if clean energy can reduce the amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere.

This definitely rhymes.

Wealth and income inequality

Most of the movies and TV shows about this time focus on the nobility and other very wealthy families. But those who weren’t rich lived very different lives. One of the complaints I read about The Irregulars was that it didn’t accurately portray the depth of brutality and filth on the streets of London.

In this country, this was the Gilded Age – a time of monopolists and robber barons. The reaction to that led to a progressive movement and things like the Sherman Anti-Trust Act (1890), the Pure Food and Drug Act (1906), and the federal income tax (1913).

The movement toward greater equality reversed beginning with election of Ronald Reagan in 1980. In 2019 the top 10% of families in the United States controlled 76% of the wealth, while the bottom 50% controlled just 1%. The pandemic has made this even worse.

The ultrarich have done a good job convincing the bottom 50% that their problems are caused by immigrants and liberals. Donald Trump was/is a symptom, not the problem. I’m not optimistic as to how this will play out.

Victorian Era architecture – in Arkansas

A struggle for women’s rights

Many of the Victorian movies and TV shows include elements of the Women’s Suffrage Movement. In most of the West, that movement wasn’t successful until after World War I.

On one hand, women have more opportunities now than ever. The Vice President of the United States and the Speaker of the House are both women. But 100 years after women gained the right to vote in this country, they make up only 27% of US Representatives, 24% of Senators, and 3 of 9 Supreme Court Justices. Women make 82 cents for every dollar men make.

Reproductive rights are under attack to an extent not seen in decades. Texas just passed a “fetal heartbeat” bill that effectively outlaws all abortions – multiple other states have similar laws. It will be overturned as it violates the constitutional protections outlined in Roe v. Wade. But the Supreme Court has agreed to hear an abortion case in its next term, and with three Trump-appointed justices now on the bench, the outlook isn’t good. Even if they don’t overturn Roe v. Wade (and I don’t think they will) they will chip away at it, letting red states continue to take away reproductive rights.

And make no mistake: they’re not just after abortion – they’re also after birth control. The legal reasoning behind Roe v. Wade is grounded in Griswold v. Connecticut (1965), that established the right to privacy and did so in the context of overturning laws that outlawed contraception.

The far right wants more children (mainly more white children) and it wants women restricted to “traditional” roles, in practice if not in law. Will they get it? One thing I’ve learned about the far right is that they’re patient, and they’re willing to take incremental victories.

Suppressed sexuality

If the Victorian era is known for anything, it’s its uptight prudish restrictive views on sex and sexuality. At first listen that hardly seems like a rhyme with our era of LGBTQ Pride, same sex marriage and no-fault divorce, and porn of every description only a click away.

As usual, the battles are being fought on the edges. And trans people are on those edges.

As I write this, a Texas bill that would outlaw gender affirming medical care for trans kids is not yet dead, as is another bill that would charge parents who enable such care with child abuse. Similar bills have already passed in other states. The purpose is clear – to pretend trans people don’t exist and force them to act cis.

President Biden said “your President has your back.” That’s good to hear after four years of non-stop bigotry and harassment from the previous President, but it remains to be seen what he can – and will – do.

As with reproductive rights, the attacks never stop. If the anti-trans laws are upheld, they’ll go back to pushing anti-gay laws. Adoption rights and same sex marriage will be first, then recriminalization of consensual same sex activity.

The goal is total conformity to their religion and morality, and they will stop at nothing to achieve it. They must be defeated in every election, every legislative session, and every court case.

A magical revival

The modern Pagan movement has roots in the religions of antiquity, but it first started taking shape in the late Victorian era. Much of what we do today can be traced back to the Spiritualist Movement of the 19^th and early 20^th centuries, and especially to the Golden Dawn (1887-1903).

What started then continues today. This is the new Golden Age of magic and Paganism (which aren’t the same things, but there’s considerable overlap). There are more books available (both ancient and new), more information, and more practitioners. Whatever religion calls to you, whatever your preferred form of magic, someone somewhere is practicing it and can help get you started.

And that’s a good thing, because we need all the magical help we can get to make it through these times.

The roots of World War I

The late Victorian period is generally considered the peak of the British Empire. Like all empires eventually do, they overextended themselves. What didn’t crumble in the aftermath of World War I mostly fell after World War II. The center of power moved from London to Washington, but the Anglo-American empire is still very much in decline.

In Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows (2011) Professor Moriarty attempts to start a war so he can sell munitions to both sides. This is not historically accurate. Rich industrialists did not cause World War I, although they certainly profited from it. The true causes are many and complex. At the top of the list are the attempt by the great powers to maintain and expand their empires, and especially the oppression of ethnic minorities within those empires.

Europe around this time has been described as a powder keg. The assassination of Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand was simply the spark that set off the explosion.

There are numerous powder kegs in this country and around the world. We saw a huge one last year after the murder of George Floyd. We saw another one of a very different nature on January 6. There’s a far more deadly powder keg in Palestine right now.

Are any of these enough to start a world war? Probably not, but sit on a powder keg long enough and eventually someone will set it off.

St. Cyprian’s Church, London – built in 1903

A mundane response to Tower Time

As I began working on this post, it struck me that the writers, directors, and others responsible for making all these movies and TV shows set in the Victorian era are seeing much the same things many of us are seeing. Only they’re not listening to the Morrigan and they’re not dealing with the Fair Folk (thought I’m not sure about Fair Folk, given the level of fae propaganda I see in entertainment), so they don’t have our context for interpreting it.

What we see as Tower Time they see as the Victorian era repeating itself. They’re not wrong.

So, what do we do?

Earlier this year I taught an on-line class on Navigating Tower Time – Magic for an Era of Change. The class is on-demand – it’s still available if you want to take it. It focuses on seeing things as they really are, figuring out the approach you want to take, and then developing both a magical and a mundane plan to accomplish your goals.

I don’t have a better alternative. There’s a mid-term election next year with huge consequences. Most of the trouble is being created at the state level – the more we can do to keep the Neo-Victorians out of office the better.

But while participating in the political process is necessary, it’s not enough. Politics won’t save you.

That’s up to you and your allies, both in this world and between the worlds.

Good luck.

Tower Time: Chaos, Decline, and Opportunity

January 17, 2021 By John Beckett

I remember the first time I discussed Tower Time with someone I’ll call a “senior Pagan leader.” Their initial response was “I don’t know, John – that sounds like conspiracy theory to me.”

I detest conspiracy theories. They’re intellectually lazy, politically and socially dishonest, and they lead to things like people storming the Capitol trying to overthrow elections. Last year I wrote The Hard Cure for Conspiracy Theories – it just missed the Top 10 list for 2020. So I can’t adequately express just how upset I was to hear someone I respect say that.

But if people listen to me and think they’re hearing a conspiracy theory, then I need to do a better job of explaining what I think and why I think it. I need to present the evidence and logic that led me to conclude that we’re living in a time of disruption and decline. Then they can look at it for themselves and decide if they agree. If they do, we can work together to figure out how best to respond. And if they don’t, that’s fine too – I’m not trying to save the world.

A couple days ago a few people who are regular blog readers and who have taken classes with me before challenged my statement that no one alive today will see the end of Tower Time. They were hearing (and I’m paraphrasing here) “things are going to suck like 2020 for the rest of my life.”

Nobody wants to hear messages of gloom and doom – especially overstated messages of gloom and doom. About ten years ago I went to a “climate workshop” that was so depressing I left thinking I needed to trade my Prius for a Corvette, drive to Las Vegas, and live it up before we all die. Climate change is real (and it’s one contributor to Tower Time) but people predicting the imminent extinction of humanity have done far more harm than good.

Tower card imagery aside, Tower Time isn’t all gloom and doom. It isn’t an apocalypse or a cataclysm. It isn’t a new Dark Age.

Let’s take a deeper look at what Tower Time is, how we can respond, and what I hope to accomplish with the upcoming class Navigating Tower Time – Magic For an Era of Change.

Recognizing Tower Time – 10 years of experiences

The first comments on what would be called Tower Time started about ten years ago. They were mostly spiritual and metaphysical. I first heard it from followers of the Morrigan, who said She told them “a storm is coming – get ready.” About the same time Byron Ballard coined the phrase “Tower Time” to describe the end of empire and the patriarchy that supports it.

What we’ve seen can be grouped into three broad categories.

The first is natural: climate change, habitat and species loss, the depletion of fossil fuels and the attempts to replace them. Covid-19 is not caused by Tower Time, but it is part of it – it’s one of the lightning bolts hitting the tower and bringing it down.

The second is socio-economic: mainly, the decline of the American empire. But also, the rise of nationalism, fascism, and xenophobia. We need no conspiracy theories to recognize that people who are rich and powerful will do and are doing everything they can to remain rich and powerful.

The third is magical and Otherworldly: the reduction of the Veil Between the Worlds, more frequent encounters with the Fair Folk, and Gods on recruiting missions. And also, the increased interest in magic and witchcraft among ordinary people, though whether that’s a cause or an effect or both remains to be seen.

In the Tower Time class, I’m spending three hours going over all this – I can’t condense that much material down to a blog post. Before we can talk about what we should do, we need to understand the environment in which we work.

Empires crumble – they don’t collapse

Of these three categories, the decline of the American empire is the most clear-cut. Trump was never going to make America great again, not just because he was an incompetent leader but because once an empire peaks there’s only one way for it to go and that’s down.

But a crumbling empire doesn’t mean a collapsing empire. The British Empire peaked around World War I and has been in serious decline since World War II. But Britain is still a pretty good place to live, despite shooting itself in the foot with Brexit. We’re not going to see an apocalypse. We’re not going to see a new Dark Age.

But neither are we going to see things springing back to “peak Western normalcy.”

Macro trends, micro lives

Worldwide, 2020 is likely the worst year in my lifetime. But while it was bad for me, it wasn’t as bad for me as 2009 or 1995, or any of several years in my late 20s and early 30s. A year or a decade or an era is part of our environment, but it doesn’t control our entire lives.

It’s like when people from blue states ask me “how can you stand living in Texas?” I know what they mean, and I would prefer to live in a state with a higher level of services (even at the cost of higher taxes) that didn’t keep electing theocrats and wingnuts to public office. But I don’t live in “Texas” – Texas is almost 270,000 square miles. I live in McKinney and my UU church is in Denton. And when you come down to it, I live in my house with my wife and our cat, and I socialize with a handful of people who see the world much like I do.

Not every year of Tower Time is going to be like 2020. And not every bad year is going to be bad for everyone. Some years are going to be quite good, at least for some people.

The question is how we improve our odds of having more good years than bad years.

Chaos brings opportunity

This is my own personal Tower Time challenge. I like order and predictability. I’ve built my life by careful assessment of the odds and by placing low risk bets. Tower Time is bringing chaos and randomness. That makes it harder to plan.

But chaos and randomness also bring opportunity: in business, in politics, and in spirituality.

Opportunities are not distributed evenly or fairly. Many of them have short expiration dates. Taking advantage of them requires spotting them and then moving quickly. That works best when you know what to look for.

Times of chaos favor two broad groups of people: those with the financial resources to absorb the swings without overreacting, and those with the energy and determination to grab what comes their way.

Chaos punishes those who live in denial and cling to what was.

In this class I hope to help people do a better job of recognizing opportunities and being prepared to embrace them… and honestly, to do that myself. I can’t afford to live in denial either.

This is what’s coming – how can we best respond?

I do not believe anyone alive today will see the bottom of Tower Time. That’s speculation, not fact. But it’s informed speculation. I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t think I’m wrong.

In Navigating Tower Time we’re going to spend half the course going over where we are, how we got here, and what it means. We’re going to build a model of Tower Time, to provide context for our experiences – both our Otherworldly experiences and our ordinary experiences of randomness, chaos, and disruption.

Then we’re going to spend the second half of the class discussing what to do about it. We’re going to talk about magic, the Gods, the Fair Folk, and other spiritual persons who are also navigating Tower Time, albeit from a very different perspective than ours. We’re going to talk about spiritual practice (it’s my class – of course we’re going to talk about spiritual practice), and about building relationships and networks.

And we’re going to talk about money, the one taboo subject in all of modern Paganism. Too many Pagans’ ideas about money are influenced by Calvinism, or by the counterculture of the 1960s, or both. Neither is helpful. Money is a tool, and like all tools, whether it’s good nor evil depends on how it’s used.

Your future is not written in stone

I have no patience with the New Agers and others who insist “you create your own reality” and “every problem is a lesson you need to learn.” It may be intended to be empowering, but more often it’s used for victim blaming. You do not control your environment, and your environment has a huge impact on your life.

At the same time, you can control your response to your environment, to one extent or another. And that response can make a huge difference.

Tower Time is here. I wish is wasn’t, but it is. My goal is to understand it as best I can, to figure out the best way to deal with it, and to help others to do the same.

Take a closer look at Ashley Bryner’s Tower Time painting. All artwork is ultimately in the eye of the beholder, but this picture is meant to be “read” left to right. Lightning strikes the tower, sending it crashing to the ground.

But that’s not the whole story.

We are the figure in the foreground, making preparations for the next step… preparations that are not entirely of this world. The path forward is difficult and uncertain, but the skies are encouraging.

And we are not alone.

Blessings to you as you navigate Tower Time, however you choose to approach it.

Rebooting Stale Devotion

January 5, 2021 By John Beckett

Of the 8 Important Events and Trends in Paganism in 2020 the one that got the most feedback – by far – was #8: the decline of devotion.

A few people were surprised. They’ve kept doing their devotions and hadn’t noticed that people weren’t writing much about them. Several offered explanations – I think they all have a piece of the puzzle. Many simply expressed sadness and wondered what we can do about it. My response was this:

All I can do – and I’m starting to think, all anyone can do – is to do the devotion you’re called to do. And then write about it, in a “here’s what I’m doing” way (not in a “look at me – I’m so pious” way). And then either people will respond, or they won’t.

I’m going to try to do more of that this year. And I want to start here, with the realization that sometimes devotion gets stale. Sometimes our devotion needs a reboot.

Devotion is forming and maintaining sacred relationships

If you’re a regular reader this isn’t news to you. But for the benefit of those who just found this blog, I need to be clear that devotion isn’t something we do just because we’re told to do it. It has a purpose, and it has benefits.

The purpose of devotion is to help us form and maintain relationships with our Gods, our ancestors, the spirits of the places where we live, and other spiritual persons. We know from our this-world relationships that if you ignore people, eventually they go away. We don’t want our spiritual allies to go away. Devotion demonstrates a commitment to them and makes it far more likely that our relationships will grow and thrive.

Devotion to our Gods brings us closer to Them. It reminds us of Their virtues and values, which help us to become more God-like ourselves.

My three primary devotional practices

If you’re wondering how to start a devotional practice, read this post from 2016: Beginning a Devotional Practice. There are many ways to do devotion – these are my three primary practices.

Prayer is talking to the Gods. It can be carefully scripted or it can be spontaneous. It includes asking for what we need and giving thanks for what we receive. Prayer has always been a part of my life, but almost 10 years ago I started offering regular prayers four times each day. Prayer remains the cornerstone of my spiritual practice.

Meditation is listening for the Gods. If we call, They will usually answer. But those answers are rarely loud and dramatic. Most times they’re soft and subtle – they’re easy to miss if we aren’t paying attention. Meditation is hard for me, but I’ve made it a weekly practice for Cernunnos, the Morrigan, my ancestors, and another person I’m not allowed to name.

Offerings are how we practice good hospitality and reciprocity. I’m often asked “what’s a good offering for this particular deity?” Occasionally I’m told to make a specific offering, but most times it’s “I’ll have what you’re having.” Unless what I’m having is a whiskey I bought on someone else’s recommendation, didn’t really like, and I’m trying to drink it up. If you’re trying to get rid of it, it’s not an offering.

There are many other devotional practices – these are the three that are most important for me.

It’s OK if your devotion gets stale

Do you know what it means if your devotion gets stale? It means you’ve been doing devotion regularly and diligently even when you didn’t feel like doing it. And that’s a good thing.

I know people who say “if you can’t do it with enthusiasm don’t do it.” I strongly disagree.

If you’re a parent, you feed your kids every night. Sometimes you make an amazingly tasty and balanced meal. Sometimes you give them a sandwich and an apple. And sometime you give them McDonald’s drive-thru, because you’re exhausted and that’s all you can do. But you never don’t feed your kids.

Devotion is something we do whether we feel like it or not. One of the Top 10 Posts of 2020 was The Morrigan Demands Persistence Not Perfection. This is true of most deities, not just the Morrigan.

But just as it’s not good to give your kids McDonald’s drive-thru on a regular basis, neither is it good to go through the motions of devotion night after night, week after week, month after month.

So while it’s OK if your devotion gets stale, it’s not OK to let it stay stale.

Perform three special meditations

It’s tempting to tell yourself you just need to try harder. Or that everything will be OK when the pandemic is over and things get back to normal (we will never get back to “normal” – but that’s another post for another time). I encourage you to take the time to delve into the staleness and figure out what to do next.

The first meditation simply asks “why did you start your devotional practice?” Was it a mystical experience? A story that grabbed your attention? Curiosity about what might happen? Whatever it was, remember why you started, how you started, and what things were like when you did. This is a meditation, not an analysis – it’s OK if your answers are more images and feelings than hard reasons.

The second meditation asks “why did it get stale?” When the answer comes to you, ask “why did that happen?” Keep asking “why?” until you get past the surface reasons and into the deep reasons. When you get there, then ask “why else?” and start the process over again. There’s never one reason a spiritual practice grows stale. Keep digging until you find them all. But make sure you focus on what happened, not on blame. This isn’t about guilt. This is about figuring out what went wrong so you can do something different.

The third meditation asks “what do I do now?” Einstein didn’t say it, but if you keep doing the same things you’re likely to get the same results. “Try harder” is what you’ve been doing – it’s why your devotion is stale instead of non-existent. You need a different approach. Sit quietly (or walk outdoors, which works better for me) and listen until the answer or answers come to you.

It’s possible to do all three meditations one after the other, but it’s best if you do them on three consecutive nights. Do the meditation, make notes, clear your mind, sleep on it, then review your notes the next morning. What is unclear in meditation may become clear in dreams. Then do the next meditation that evening.

Mix up something

The easiest way to reboot something stale – devotional or otherwise – is to mix things up.

Have you been making offerings in the evenings? Make them at dawn instead. Praying at your altar? Go outside and pray. Stuck on red wine for the Morrigan? Try whiskey, or better yet, offer a portion of your dinner.

What if you can’t change what you’re doing? What if you’ve been told to perform specific devotions in specific ways, without fail? Then add something new. Make two offerings instead of one. Add a noon prayer to your evening meditation. While most deities are patient with beginners, they often become more demanding with intermediate and advanced practitioners. But I’ve never known any person – divine or otherwise – who got upset at receiving more devotion.

Plan and perform a ritual

Sometimes just breaking a stale routine isn’t enough. Sometimes you need a full restart. If that’s where you are, it’s time for a major ritual.

Do not try to wing this. Take the time to write a full script, whether you ultimately read the script, memorize the script, or use the script as an outline. Wear your good robe and jewelry, set an altar, light candles. Sometimes I say “it’s just me – I don’t need a bunch of ritual props.” For this ritual you do.

Use your full liturgy: cast a circle and call the quarters, if that’s what you do. Invite your spiritual allies to witness your rite. Acknowledge the good you’ve done in previous devotion, even if it’s incomplete, and even if your devotions have gone from stale to non-existent. This is not the place to “confess your sins” – you’ve done the best you could.

Say what you want, such as “I want my devotions to be full of life again.” Even if you didn’t do the best you could, you’re not asking for forgiveness – you’re beginning the process of doing better.

And then do it, as part of the ritual.

Pray. Find prayers of devotion that speak to you. If you can’t find ones you like, write your own. Make offerings – be generous, even extravagant. You can be extravagant with your Gods every so often. And then listen for Their response.

When it’s over, say what you will do going forward… and as always, do not promise what you cannot or will not do.

Pour yourself a drink (of whatever you’ve been offering, or just water) and share it with all those present. Then close the ritual in your normal method.

When I’ve done rituals like this I’ve done them alone. Doing them with other living humans adds witnesses, which adds an element of accountability. Either way will work – decide which is best for you.

Persistence is a virtue

The fact that you recognize your devotions have gotten stale is the first step toward revitalizing them. Stale devotion is better than no devotion, but so much more is possible.

Meditate on your devotions, how things got stale, and what you can go to reboot them. Mix things up. Perform a devotional ritual.

And then keep it up.

May your devotions draw you closer to your Gods and other spiritual allies in the coming year.

8 Important Events and Trends in Paganism in 2020

December 22, 2020 By John Beckett

Does anybody really want to look back on the dumpster fire that was 2020? Probably not. But we need to do it anyway.

Every December I do a year-end retrospective. In good years they’re a celebration. In bad years they help make sure I don’t overlook the good things that happened. Mainly, they help me put things into perspective. As bad as 2020 has been, for me it hasn’t been as bad as 2009, much less 1995 (my Year From Hell) or 8^th grade (the worst year of my life).

I’ll do my personal look back at 2020 next week – that will remain private. In this post, I want to go over some of the important things that happened in the wider Pagan community.

Or at least, the ones I’ve seen or heard about. Paganism and witchcraft are more diverse and decentralized than they were even a few years ago – I don’t think anybody can keep up with all of it. I certainly can’t. So this is my take on 2020 in the Pagan world, and it’s in no particular order.

If I missed something you think was important, list it in the comments.

1. Covid-19 and the U.S. election

The two events that dominated the mainstream world also dominated the Pagan world. Scanning the All Posts listings for this year, I counted 19 posts directly related to the election, and 19 more directly related to Covid. And that doesn’t include the online rituals. My blogging has always been a blend of devotion and politics, of timeless truths and current events. Most Pagan bloggers do the same, in their own way.

Covid canceled our gatherings and disrupted our worship. The election and its bizarre aftermath dominated our discourse, because the stakes were so high.

And neither of them are over yet. The emergence of a vaccine is hopeful, but it will take months to vaccinate everyone. The election is over except for Congressional affirmation on January 6 (which will happen, even if some Republicans try to derail it) and the inauguration on January 20, but undoing the damage from the last four years will take longer than any one Presidential term.

It’s up to us to do our parts as engaged citizens, both to end the pandemic and to build a better world here and now.

2. Festivus Interruptus

2020 was the final year for Pantheacon – it went off just before the Covid outbreak began in the United States. Last year I said that Pantheacon – the largest indoor Pagan gathering in the world – would be replaced by multiple smaller events. We’ve been headed down that path for the past couple of years.

And then Covid happened.

I went to at least one out of town, overnight Pagan gathering every year from 2009 through 2019. In 2017 I went to six. That was also the year my first book The Path of Paganism came out – funny how that works.

This year I went to none.

Festivals have been a key part of the Pagan movement for decades. They’ve become less important, but they’re still a great way to connect to like-minded folks that Facebook and Twitter can never duplicate. This year we’ve had to learn to do without them. I don’t expect any of the Winter or Spring conventions to take place in 2021. Hopefully we’ll be able to start gathering again in the Summer, but we just don’t know.

Does absence really make the heart grow fonder? Will we see a surge of interest in festivals and conventions once we’re able to have them again? Or, having done without them for over a year, will a critical mass decide they’re not worth the cost in money and in time?

We will see. But I’ll be there as soon as it’s reasonably safe to go.

Jason Mankey and me at Mystic South 2019

3. The huge success of Psychic Witch

Pagan books are a niche market. Honestly, most books are a niche market: one publishing industry website says the average non-fiction book sells 250-300 copies in the first year. John Hunt Publishing (who owns the Pagan-oriented Moon Books imprint) calls one of their books a “bestseller” if it sells 5000 copies in its lifetime.

By these standards, Mat Auryn’s new book Psychic Witch is a best best best seller. Last I heard it’s in its seventh or eighth printing in less than a year. For comparison, The Path of Paganism – which has sold well by Pagan standards – took over a year to need a second printing.

Psychic Witch has sold so well for two reasons. First, it’s an excellent book, and the right book at the right time. In my review, I said it’s “a beginner’s guide to psychic perception and energy work. It’s the best book I’ve found for that purpose.” It’s the book I was looking for when I was 13 and wanted to learn some hands-on, non-religious magic.

The second reason is that Mat worked his ass off promoting the book. Sometimes things “just come together” but more often, they come together because someone makes them come together. Mat is the hardest working man in Paganism (with apologies to James Brown) and a good person. I couldn’t be happier for him and his success.

Mat Auryn Psychic Witch — Mat Auryn at Austin Witchfest – March 2020

4. Eimear Burke is the new Chosen Chief of OBOD

In 2018, Philip Carr-Gomm announced that he was retiring after 30 years as Chosen Chief of the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids. Replacing him would be Eimear Burke, an Irish Druid and a Priestess in the Fellowship of Isis. A formal installation ceremony was planned for Summer Solstice 2020 in Glastonbury.

And then Covid happened.

The installation was conducted virtually – Damh the Bard presented it on DruidCast Episode 159.

I like what Eimear’s doing. She says “there’s nothing in OBOD that needs to be fixed.” At the same time, she brings an Irish perspective (and eventually, some Irish material) to a Druid order that’s been dominated by British people and stories. That’s a good and necessary thing.

Eimear was at the OBOD Gulf Coast Gathering last year, but I was teaching at the Sacred Space Conference that weekend. I hope to meet her in person before too terribly long – I’m happy to have her as our Chosen Chief.

5. White Supremacist Pagans get their own church

In most cases, a group repurposing an abandoned church into a Pagan gathering place would be a great thing. But not when the group is the Asatru Folk Assembly, who claim that Norse Paganism is for white people only.

Local residents – including local Heathens – opposed permitting the use. The Murdock, Minnesota city council approved it, largely because they feared the expense of a lawsuit if they denied it.

Heathens Against Hate, which is part of The Troth, issued a statement saying “Heathens Against Hate stand against the hate and extremism espoused by the AFA and their supporters. We support inclusive Heathenry, where we welcome all who welcome all.”

This is your periodic reminder that DNA is not a religion and the Gods call who They call.

6. The rise of Instagram and TikTok witches

This started well before 2020, but I’ve seen it explode this year. I think that’s less because everything’s moved online due to Covid and more because the phenomena is growing steadily on its own.

The Instagram and TikTok witches are mainly young women who adopt the aesthetic of witchcraft, primarily for self-empowerment. Most are simply celebrating witchcraft as they understand it. But a few are teaching, and that’s a concern for some established practitioners.

I checked out a few of these young teachers. Not a statistically significant sample, but a few. For the most part, they’re teaching basic, 101-level spells and spiritual practices. I could nitpick some of it, but it wasn’t all that different from what I was studying in my earliest years.

They’re a product of a generation that grew up with technology. Their video production skills are better than mine (although I’m learning) and they have an on-camera presence that I’ll never have. For decades Pagans have put their trust in authors (for better or for worse), but these witches are speaking to a different audience through different media.

I would prefer beginning witches and Pagans get their instruction from people with more experience and more expertise. But if it works, then it works. We should never allow our concern for authenticity to degenerate into gatekeeping.

My job isn’t to tell the Instagram and TikTok witches they’re doing it wrong. My job is to be here for those who decide they want something more.

7. Tower Time continues

Tower Time – so named by North Carolina witch Byron Ballard – started around 10 years ago… though it would probably be best to say that some of us started noticing it around 2010. Some people call it “the Storm” – I’ve stopped using that term to avoid confusion with conspiracy theories of the far right. But to the extent that it is a storm, it got here in 2016.

If you’ve been following this over the years, you understand that while Trump and Covid are part of Tower Time, they are not the extent of it. It will not be over on January 20, and it will not be over when everyone is vaccinated and Covid subsides.

I refuse to use the phrase “the new normal” in reference to adjustments made necessary by Covid-19. But not only are things never going back to what they were, we’re going to continue to see disruptions in politics, the environment, and in the magical and spiritual world for the rest of our lives.

I’ll be exploring this in an online class early next year: “Navigating Tower Time – Magic for an Era of Change.” I’ll have more details when registration opens in early January.

8. The decline of devotion

It pains me to write this, but honestly demands it.

Witchcraft is going strong. So is astrology. Occultism (mainly the teachings of Crowley) seems to be the hot topic of the moment. “This-world Paganism” (Pagans with a strong political and environmental emphasis, some of whom are non-theistic but others who aren’t) is popular – how much of that is due to Trump and the election is another matter.

But the kind of polytheistic devotion that is the core of my practice has declined over the past few years. Or at least, people writing about it has declined.

It’s not gone. Many polytheists simply perform their devotion and go on with their lives without writing about it. I see some theological work going on, although it’s mainly among Neoplatonists. I see good devotion from some Heathens and a disdain for it from other Heathens. Most of what I see is on Twitter rather than on blogs, which makes deep conversation challenging.

I’m a priest of two Gods, a sworn Druid of a third, and I’m loosely connected with several more. Devotion is what I do. I can’t not do it, and I don’t want to not do it. I’m not going to stop writing about it, not entirely, anyway.

But I have to wonder if perhaps the public-facing portion of my priesthood needs to change, in degree if not in kind.

I’m not exactly sure what that means. But it’s something to contemplate over the Winter holidays.

This will be the final regular post of 2020. Next week I’ll have the usual year-end features: The 4 Best Posts You Didn’t Read on Sunday, the Top 10 Posts of the Year on Tuesday, and my divination for 2021 on New Year’s Day, which is Friday.

Do Bad Times Really Make Good Art?

May 24, 2020 By John Beckett

I tried to watch Joker last weekend.

I didn’t succeed.

I thought about seeing it when it came out last fall, but I never did. It did very well at the box office and was well-received by critics. It was also heavily criticized by those who said it stigmatizes mental illness and excuses violent behavior by people who mistake the loss of privilege for oppression.

I watched it for 30 minutes and then I had to leave the room. The bullying and other abuse Arthur Fleck received was too much for me.

So I went looking for another movie for the evening.

I’ve been rewatching the Underworld movies. They’re not great art, but they’re the kind of supernatural horror I enjoy. It had been a long time since I had seen the third movie in the series, Rise of the Lycans from 2009. I remembered I didn’t like it as well as the others, but I didn’t remember why, other than it doesn’t have Selene (Kate Beckinsale) in it. So I figured this was a good time to watch it again.

Big mistake.

Spoiler alert… except not really, because Rise of the Lycans is a prequel whose outcome you know if you’ve seen the first two movies in the series. But if you’re particularly spoiler-allergic, skip the rest of this paragraph. Vampire elder Viktor burns his daughter in the sun because she’s pregnant by a werewolf, who Viktor considers inferior animals. More bullying and abuse by the powerful. I finished it, but it wasn’t fun.

I realized I’ve become very selective with my entertainment – almost fragile. There’s so much unpleasantness, injustice, and abuse in the real world. Even if we only experience a bit of it ourselves we can’t help but see its impact on others. While we have an ethical responsibility to not look away from real world injustice, we have no such obligation when it comes to entertainment.

When I walk into a theater or turn on the TV I’m not looking to be informed. I want something to take my mind off the difficulties of the world. I want something to make unpleasant things beautiful. Or better yet, I want something to inspire me to make my life better.

It is wise to be careful with the entertainment we consume at any time, but at times like these it’s critical that what we watch, read, and listen to supports us and builds us up and doesn’t drag us further down into despair.

Do bad times really make good art?

And that brings me to the title of this post. It’s a cliché that bad times generate good art. Like all clichés there’s an element of truth to it, but also some wide generalizations. Bad times are almost always bad for artists – all but the most commercially successful struggle financially even during good times.

The suffering but brilliant artist is another cliché that reflects the truth that artists are often wired differently from other folks… but also the truth that rest of us like enjoying art but we don’t like supporting the people who make it.

Perhaps bad times drive all but the most dedicated artists to do something else. Thus we don’t have to wade through a lot of mediocre art to find the good stuff.

But the people who choose which art gets widespread distribution – especially TV and movies – are also the most insulated from bad times. They’re notoriously less interested in what’s good than they are with what will sell.

And I wonder if perhaps the rest of us are engaging in some selective memories. A book or movie or song that we find merely enjoyable in good times can suddenly be life-changing in bad times. The art hasn’t changed – the viewers of the art have.

Sharon Knight: a perspective from a working artist

Rather than only relying on my own second-hand analysis, I decided to ask a real working artist. Sharon Knight is a singer, songwriter, and teacher. I interviewed her in 2013 and I reviewed her album Portals in 2016. Three of My Top 10 Pagan Albums of All Time are hers in whole or in part.

Here’s what Sharon had to say about bad times making good art.

I would say it depends on how one reacts to the bad times. If one tends to shut down, disconnect, and fall into a depression, no art of any kind is likely to come from that space. However, if the hardship knocks one out of their habitual patterns – the sleepwalk that we tend to fall into when life is predictable – then that can produce states of inspiration that bring about good art. Being knocked off our center by the unexpected can cause us to crack open, and it is this cracking open that leads to inspired art.

Flow of Awen is needful for inspired art. Sometimes a traumatic experience can trigger us into that “cracked open” state that allows Awen to flow, and in this way, bad times can lead to good art.

This makes perfect sense to me. Whether you consider blogging to be art or not (I lean toward not) if the Awen doesn’t flow I can’t write. And the Awen has been flowing rather slowly lately.

Looking for art in the wrong places

While it’s too early for pandemic-inspired art – books and movies take years to make – I marked the arrival of The Storm in early 2016, after a long warning that it was coming. That’s plenty of time for inspiration to work its way into the creative community. But with the possible exception of The Witch (a movie I like but don’t love) I’m just not seeing it.

Not seeing it from the mainstream outlets, that is.

Large corporations control the cable channels and streaming services. Books and music are less centralized, but there’s a big difference between the “reach” of a book published by HarperCollins and a book published by Llewellyn, and between a book published by Llewellyn and a book self-published on a print-on-demand service.

That means good art is often hard to find, particularly if you aren’t actively looking for it.

Good art from the bad times of Tower Time

What artists are making good art from the bad times of Tower Time? I’m probably the wrong person to answer that question. I write about what I like, but I don’t read/watch/listen enough to be an effective reporter.

Sharon Knight’s “Fire in the Head” comes to mind. Her plugged-in band Pandemonaeon’s 2010 album Dangerous Beauty could have been the prelude for The Storm.

The work of Alkistis Dimech and Peter Grey belongs on the list, though I’m referring mainly to their own work rather than what they publish through Scarlet Imprint. The Brazen Vessel could be scripture for Tower Time – the hardcover even looks like a holy book. Apocalyptic Witchcraft doesn’t use the term “Tower Time” but it could have been an early warning that its arrival was imminent.

How about the Sola Busca Tarot? It was supposedly first published in 1491. It may be up to a hundred years younger, but in any case it’s among oldest of Tarot decks. But it only became readily available last year.

What else?

Are there mainstream movies and TV shows I haven’t noticed? Books in a genre I don’t read? Music I haven’t heard? I haven’t even touched the category of visual arts, even though I play in that sandbox as a photographer (sorta kinda – my photography is more about documentation and illustration than art). Please list your suggestions in the comments.

Good art helps us understand the bad times in which we live. It comforts us, inspires us, and challenges us. Let’s share the good art we find… legally and with proper credit – artists deserve to be paid for their work the same as the rest of us.

And if we can’t find what we need, let’s go make it ourselves.

The 4 Best Posts of 2019 You Didn’t Read

December 26, 2019 By John Beckett

It’s been another good year on Under the Ancient Oaks. Through November, blog traffic is up 19% over last year. Several posts did very well, and one is already the third most popular of all time. I’ll talk about that on Sunday with this year’s annual Top 10 feature.

But as with every year, some posts aren’t very well read. Book reviews and travel posts don’t do well, and my political posts are hit or miss. And while I consider myself a good writer, when you’re knocking out over 140 posts a year they’re not all going to be amazing.

Still, there are times when I find myself saying “this is important – why are people not reading this?”

Here are four posts from 2019 I think have some really important concepts in them, but that weren’t well read. Take a look at these summaries, and if you didn’t read them the first time, check them out now.

Pagans In and Out of Communion: What it Takes to Worship Together (June 2019, #129 in readership).

With the Big Tent of Paganism continuing to collapse, this is something we all need to pay attention to. Because if we’re not all doing the same thing – and clearly, we’re not – then who’s close enough that we can stand in circle with them and feel like we’re being respectful to each other’s traditions?

Deep rituals require openness and vulnerability.

In an ordinary ritual, it doesn’t matter if someone’s there who I know is a committed atheist. They see things their way, I see things my way, we celebrate the ideals and the actions we have in common.

In an ecstatic ritual, the presence of someone who’s going to question and judge our most sacred and intimate experiences will inhibit the participants. We’ll hold back, rationalize away what we see and hear, and pretend it’s all in our heads, so our atheist friend won’t think badly of us… or say bad things about us afterwards. Perhaps we shouldn’t, but 99% of us will.

We can have serious religious differences and still be friends. We can still work together to build a better world here and now. But we can’t always worship together – not and do it well.

What I Learned From Clergy In Other Religions (June 2019, #130 in readership).

A lot of Pagans insist “we don’t need no stinkin’ priests.” That is, until they decide to get married, or they have a spiritual crisis, or they want to go to a public ritual and they hope whoever leads it knows what they’re doing.

Or until some God unknown to them grabs them by the collar and they go desperately searching for anyone who has a clue as to what They might want.

Some traditions have clergy training programs, but most of us who serve as clergy have to learn what we can from where ever we can. And while we don’t do the same things as clergy in other religions, there is much we can learn from them.

From Baptists I learned bivocationalism and emotional worship (plus a lot of what not to do). From Methodists I learned pastoral care and humanitarian work. From Unitarian Universalists I learned to set boundaries and to work for social justice. From Buddhists I learned the concept of itinerant ministry. From Catholics I learned the daily office and the importance of daily spiritual practice.

Learn what you can, where you can, from whoever you can.

Why Is There Joy In The World? (March 2019, #140 in readership).

For at least as long as we’ve been human, people have been asking why there is suffering in the world. Why is there pain, disease, destruction, and death? Religions arose in part to try to answer that question, as well as to help deal with the reality of suffering. Paganism is no exception.

But what if that’s the wrong question?

It takes a certain amount of arrogance and self-centeredness to think that the presence of suffering means something is wrong. Rather than wondering why there is suffering, perhaps we would be better off wondering why there is joy.

I see four things in the world that bring joy: connection, abundance, compassion, and hope. And perhaps, creating joy is why we’re here in the first place.

A Vision for the Future is as Important as Plans for Today (June 2019, #142 in readership).

As a writer, I feel good about the first three posts on this list. I wrote about important topics and I wrote well, but for whatever reason what I wrote didn’t resonate with people. That happens – so be it.

But this one is near the bottom of the list because of ineffective writing. I told readers how to plan for the future while they’re taking care of today’s urgent matters, but I never explained why that’s important.

If I rewrote this post today, I’d start off by talking about how if you want to get somewhere, you have to have a plan. Or as the old saying goes, if you don’t care where you’re going, any road will do. I’d draw on Pagan agricultural metaphors and talk about deciding what to plant, knowing when to plant it, and figuring out how much sun and water that particular crop needs. And I’d point to the sorry state of U.S. infrastructure as an example of what happens when you spend too much on tax cuts and empire maintenance while ignoring roads and bridges.

That would provide the context to talk about multitasking, visualization, and relaxation.

So pretend I said all that stuff and go read it again.

Do First, Then Write – Why My Compulsive Schedule-Keeping Has To Go

July 9, 2019 By John Beckett

One of the keys to building a successful blog is posting on a regular basis. You can do it posting once a week, but more is better. Over the years I’ve settled into a Sunday-Tuesday-Thursday routine that I maintain 48 to 50 weeks a year.

The difficulty with that is that the Awen – wisdom and inspiration – doesn’t flow on a consistent basis. You rarely see it, because I try to write ahead when things are going well so I don’t have gaps when they aren’t – or when I’m just not available to write. But lately the Awen hasn’t been flowing at all.

Last year I wrote Paganism in the Dry Season, about

when you want to keep moving but it’s hard and joyless. The vision of a better world and a deeper practice is obscured by smoke and haze. When you’re hungry but nothing sounds good, when the joy of summer has turned into the monotony of oppressive heat. Pick your metaphor – this is the time when it’s not fun to be a Pagan.

This isn’t that, and it’s important to recognize the difference.

To call my practice busy would be an understatement. Last May was a dry season. Now, it’s a satisfying busy. My daily and weekly spiritual practices keep me supported. I’m enjoying putting the classes together for Paganism In Depth. I’m brushing up my presentations for Mystic South, and condensing one of them into a UU Sunday service. And I’m doing some private work that is both fulfilling and a bit scary.

My Paganism at the moment is anything but dry. And I’m not overloaded – I’m getting done what needs to be done. But still, the Awen isn’t flowing. The inspiration for stuff to write about isn’t coming.

And perhaps coincidentally – though more likely not – the deities whose statues sit on my shrine and who look down on my computer desk have been rather quiet.

I’ve had several politically-oriented microblogs on Facebook that were very well read, and that stimulated some good conversation. None of them generated anything resembling a blog-length piece, and in any case I try to keep ordinary partisan politics to a minimum here… though I will not hesitate to take a strong position when it’s necessary. Politics are how we collectively express our highest values and virtues, but I prefer to blog about the values and virtues whenever possible.

If I want clicks, all I have to do is write about the Morrigan. Every single one of my Morrigan posts has done well – two of them ended up on my Top 10 of 2018 list last year. The Morrigan is perhaps the most active deity in our contemporary world and people are hungry to learn more about Her. But She has made it very clear to me: I am to write about Her when She has something She wants me to say. If I write about Her to fill a slot, it will not go well for me.

I don’t want to run the risk of offending a Battle Goddess. More seriously, I don’t want to go against the wishes of a deity of who has done so much for me over the years – our relationship is far more important than maintaining my blog schedule.

Last year I said “silence isn’t absence” – that’s important to remember. But what I’m getting right now isn’t silence… it’s just not inspiration. It’s not new ideas. It’s not topics to write about, or new routes to address existing topics.

What I’m getting is a quiet reminder to work on the things on my plate that aren’t blog posts. Which I’m doing, but apparently not fast enough.

There are times when the message I get is “just keep moving.” Other times it’s “why isn’t this done yet?” I don’t seem to get anything in between, though I suspect that’s more a reflection on my listening skills than on what the Gods and spirits in question are actually saying. And now I’m starting to hear “why isn’t this done yet?” And also “if you want more inspiration, finish this first.”

So I’m writing a blog post to explain why I’m having trouble writing blog posts? Yeah, I get the apparent incongruity, and the questionably-healthy compulsion to maintain a schedule no matter what.

For all that people call me a leader, and for all that I accept and embrace that title, I remain a first and foremost a practitioner. I’m not an expert on Paganism. I’m a Pagan who does Paganism and who writes about what he does. And while my goal in writing is to articulate and promote Paganism, I think it is unhelpful for those of us with a public platform to ignore or whitewash our difficulties.

Because like it or not, Pagans who don’t have a public presence are always going to look at those of us who do. If we pretend that nothing bad ever happens in our lives, that sets a false and impossible example. That makes it easy for people to put us on pedestals, and nothing good ever comes from that.

This isn’t an announcement and it’s not a precursor to an announcement. I have every intention of continuing to blog three times a week for years to come. But it’s become clear there are things more important than the blog. And there are things that need my full attention as I do them now, so I can blog about them later.

And in some cases, not blog about them. Not everything I do is for public review and discussion.

As I write this I have nothing on my schedule of things to write about. I’m sure I’ll come up with something to write about before I leave for Mystic South next Thursday. But maybe I won’t. Either way I can’t imagine I’ll come out of the conference without tons of ideas for contemplation and discussion.

But for now, the message I’m getting is “do first, then write.”

And so that’s what I’m going to do.

The 4 Best Posts of 2018 You Didn’t Read

December 23, 2018 By John Beckett

After 10 years of blogging I’ve got a pretty good idea which posts will go over well and which ones won’t. My political posts don’t do well (although a few do very well). Book reviews and travel posts don’t do well. There’s a fine line between writing about mystical experiences in a way that people find engaging and “trying to eff the ineffable.”

While watching the numbers go up is nice, at the end of the day I don’t write for pageviews. I write because I have something I need to say, or because Someone tells me to write something. I write what I write and after that it’s in the hands of the Gods and the readers.

Still, there are times when I find myself saying “this is important – why are people not reading this?”

Here are four posts from 2018 I think have some really important concepts in them, but that weren’t well read. Take a look at these summaries, and if you didn’t read them the first time, check them out now.

What Fictional Witches Can Teach Us About Pursuing What We Really Want (November 2018, #119 in readership).

This one gets the award for “most disappointing post that’s my own damn fault.” It was inspired by The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina and it was originally titled “For Those Afraid to Sign The Book of the Beast.” It used my reaction to Sabrina’s reluctance to sign the Book of the Beast to start a conversation on the challenges of beginning the study and practice of a new religion or spiritual path.

Even if you are able to dismiss the religious indoctrination of your childhood, the path of magic, the path of the old Gods, the path of Paganism may not be right for you. I do not believe in eternal damnation, but our Gods are not safe. Magic is not safe. Witchcraft is not safe. It is foolhardy to pretend there are no risks.

At the last minute I decided to change the title. Part of me was worried that my Christian and spiritual-but-not-religious friends might see the title and come to a wrong conclusion. A bigger part thought that for all the chatter about Sabrina on the Pagan internet, most readers weren’t watching the show and wouldn’t get the reference.

I should have left the title alone and ignored any charges of sensationalism. If you’ve seen the show (and I love it, even though I wish the witches were Pagans instead of Satanists) you’ve probably wondered “would I sign?” just as I did. There is no Book of the Beast, but the question remains for those of us called to a different path.

There is the book and here is the pen.

Will you sign?

Why We Make Oaths (July 2018, #122 in readership).

The phrase “a man’s word is his bond” is pretty much gone from our common culture, and not because of the gendered language. Now a promise means “I’ll do it if it’s not too inconvenient, and if I don’t get a better offer between now and then.” But

Our Gods and especially the Fair Folk have older expectations – there is no such thing as extenuating circumstances. Do what you said you’d do or die trying – or live in dishonor, which is worse than death.

These expectations lead some to question whether we should make oaths or not. Oaths should be made carefully, thoughtfully, and rarely. But we should make them.

Oath making and oath taking is a long and honorable tradition. We commit ourselves to virtues, to actions, and to relationships. Our oaths help others to be sure of our commitment, so they can make their own plans with confidence. When we keep our oaths – especially when we keep them through difficulties – our reputation grows.

If we break our oaths our reputation is destroyed.

Discernment: Distilling the Truth from our Pagan Experiences (July 2018, #124 in readership).

This is one of those posts I didn’t expect to do well. Let’s face it – discernment isn’t a sexy subject. It’s not a witchy subject either – the term is usually used in a Christian context, especially in trying to figure out whether or not a person is experiencing a call to ministry or priesthood.

But discernment is not a Christian-only thing. Discernment is the ability to judge well. It’s the ability to separate the true from the false, facts from opinions, and gold from dross. That’s important in any religion.

Discernment keeps us from jumping to conclusions that are simple, pleasant, and wrong. Discernment keeps us from putting our experiences under glass and ignoring calls and messages that are important even if they’re also difficult and scary. Discernment helps us distill the truth from our Pagan experiences.

Discernment requires context and knowledge. It requires observation, analysis, and synthesis. Ultimately, discernment requires a decision.

The Value of Chaos (May 2018, #134 in readership).

One of the recurring themes over 10 years of Under the Ancient Oaks is that while you don’t have to like the way things are, you damn well better deal with things the way they are. The reality of chaos is one of those things we need to deal with as it is.

When you mention chaos, some of us think of Loki pulling tricks and laughing at us – chaos is funny. Others think of Set murdering Osiris – chaos is evil. But chaos is much more than either of those things.

Communities, cultures, religions – they require constant maintenance or they’ll fall into disrepair. The more complicated the system is, the more maintenance it requires, and the more likely it is to succumb to chaos.

Our common culture is descending into chaos and there is very little ordinary people can do to stop it. Some of us don’t want to stop it. Chaos disrupts stagnation. More importantly, chaos creates opportunities.

Whether chaos is economic, political, cultural, or spiritual, it will tear down walls and gates. It will destroy existing centers of power and create a vacuum waiting to be filled. It will create opportunities to make money, to change laws, to influence others, and to work magic…

Chaos-created opportunities favor the bold, the energetic, and the skilled. All that work and study you put in over the years, not knowing what it was for? This is what it was for.

I don’t like chaos. I like order. Truth be told, I like order a little too much. But what I like doesn’t matter. Chaos is growing, and those of us who figure out how to take advantage of the opportunities it presents will be much better off than those of us who cling to the way things have always been.

Thank you for reading and sharing, for commenting here and on Facebook, and for generally supporting Under the Ancient Oaks. On Thursday I’ll talk about the posts you did read: the Top 10 Posts of 2018.