The Brooms are Falling out of the Closet

One of the more difficult aspects of being a Pagan, at least for me, is that one can't go around blathering about one's belief system without encountering some fierce opposition from time to time, mingled with blatant ignorance. I don't necessarily blame people for their ignorance-at least, not all of the time-because they've grown up being fed the religions and beliefs of their own families. The religious system I subscribe to has it's roots in lesser known traditions and spiritual ideas. Those ancient ideas have melded with newer beliefs, to form a religion that's still relatively new. I don't expect that when the average person takes a gander at my pentacle tattoo, he or she is going to understand what it means. And, forget the word "witch". This word is supercharged; just a whisper of it is enough to have some people grabbing torches in the form of words, sometimes very cruel and close minded. With all of the negative stereotyping and all of the arguing taking place on the internet with regard to Paganism, Wicca, and the like, I began this blog anonymously. It was not my desire to stir up controversy or get involved in religious debate. I've kept this blog separate from my Facebook page because I'm not sure that even my family would understand the path I've chosen to walk. Though, Goddess knows I've never exactly been the conservative one in my family! Slowly, however, I'm finding the need to reach out a bit more, to find others of like mind and heart. I'm beginning to reach a place where I'm ready to put my toe into the water and see how far the ripples reach. I'm tired of spending so much time in the broom closet, afraid that someone might notice the (very tasteful) pentacle I wear around my neck, or question the altar that graces a portion of the eastern wall of my bedroom. It's taken me a long time to reach the place where I am spiritually today. It has not been an easy road. It continues to be a path littered with boulders and gulleys and incoming arrows. I constantly teeter on the fence between not wishing to be a hypocrite and not wanting to alienate my neighbors, who I truly like, who have kids in my daughter's age group with whom she enjoys playing, and who just happen to be fairly hardcore Christians. In the past, I've tried to follow the easier way. I tried attending the Catholic church of my grandparents, but found that the belief system doesn't make sense to me. While I agree with some of the teachings of Jesus, the idea of a man being God doesn't jibe with me, and what I know from extensive research into different religions also does not boost my faith. More challenging for me was the Jewish side of my heritage. In Judaism, I find much more to agree with, ideas that are spiritual but also feel more scientifically sound. I did, for a time, enjoy this path, but it also did not feel completely natural or "right". It would have been a much easier journey to take, and some days I think that maybe I should reconsider, but my heart won't let me. Recently, I borrowed a book from the library entitled "A Witch Like Me" by Sirona Knight. I began reading it over coffee this morning, and I hope that reading about the journeys of some of those who have gone before me will help me to feel less alone. There are pagan gatherings nearby; I may begin attending a few here and there. Tomorrow is our first meeting with the Spiral Scouts; that will also help as far as networking with other Pagan parents. For now, I'm looking out my windows at the beautiful green trees across our small lake, swaying in the gentle breeze. I'm thinking about what I'm going to do with my little one today (before we attend our first doggie training class). I'm considering what my purpose on this earth is today, who I'm supposed to reach, who I'm meant to be reached by, what journeys I'm going to embark through my art and writing. I take a deep breath, and I move forward.