The days ahead of us -as they appear to every generation- seem confusing, convoluted and interwoven with events beyond our ability to control. It's like looking out to sea with a kaleidoscope rather than a spyglass: you're presented with a beautiful, but dauntingly-fractured image that promises everything from new hope to old despair. You can't see the way forward except in multi-faceted fragments of the here and now.

   Yet, as this vista stretches beyond our fingertips, we shouldn't let the ambiguity of our way paralyze us or keep us from trying to piece together our future world. It's our job -our responsibility- to chart a course for the Pagans who are yet to come. After all, the confounding nature of this future is only a matter of perspective.

   With our experiences behind us, our community around us and our destiny before us, what are we to do? What is the course that has brought us to the here and now and -hopefully- will bear us into days ahead?

   As I sit and look the fifth anniversary of Pagan Pride, I have to reflect and wonder about questions like this. A somber feeling seems to pervade such examination of the past and the only word I can apply to this emotional state is the in-exact term, "Autumn feeling". But I find such questions more enthralling than foreboding, despite the admittedly ominous term. Even when I try to answer these questions, though, I find the process rather circular; I find that the only place to start, is at the beginning.

The Journey To Now

"How did we get here; how the Hell...?"

-"Halloween", RENT

   Personal exploration is where most of us discovered Paganism. This family of faiths is rarely handed down mother-to-daughter, father-to-son. Such inheritance does happen, but more often than not a person who comes into Paganism has done so from the outside. Some become interested because of the empowerment present for their gender, race or sexual orientation. Many gravitate towards Paganism due to a kinship of philosophy. Still others are fascinated by the juxtaposition of ancient practice and contemporary life. Most of us have a motivation that is a combination of these stimuli, if not others.

   This process of Pagan indoctrination and discovery, a "finding of the path" as it were, is a very personal journey, even if taken side-by-side with others who possess similar goals. Friends in college, relatives at home and even those like-minded souls sitting in coffee houses talking about broomsticks and "Burning Man" over a double cappuccino may be able to share our footsteps, but they cannot really share the path. The road we walk is sculpted to our individual needs. It changes every year, day and minute of our lives; no one can walk it but the individual.

   It's true that these people can travel beside us as companions (or rivals), but it's like Einstein's Frames of Reference: we each live in our own world, able to perceive our surroundings, but are beholden to the specific properties of our personal domain. Such is the nature of spiritual exploration when you travel a road that truly rises (and falls) to meet your steps.

   Along these paths we've taken, we have studied, learned, gathered, celebrated, mourned and labored in order to determine what Paganism really means. Many times, our friends and associates who stood at our sides end up simply drifting away. Some of them, granted, become quite close and keep with us no matter the changes. On the other hand, a few may even have become adversaries. Time changes all things.

   A person, it is said, is the sum of their memories. If this is true, and I suspect it is, a community -then- is the average of it's members. We don't add up to a sum ... we accommodate, approximate and assimilate. Given that, the experiences that make us what we are, by extension, forge our community. So, when we look back along our path that led from our first discovery of Paganism to where we stand now, we see a changing environment made up of the memories and lives of dozens and hundreds of people, each traveling along distinct paths.

   While the metaphor of a web is far over-used in today's Internet world, in this case, it's succinct.

   All those lives -all those memories- become tangled up in an elaborate pattern along and through which we stride. As we go, we influence it, adding to the complexity whether we intend to or not. Even at the points where the strands become snarled with angst, witch-wars, mistakes, missteps, hurt or anger, we find the lessons contained therein to be useful for moving forward in the task of forging our identities.

   Now, there are many who rebel at the idea of something so intrinsic as "the self" being influenced by outside forces. There are quite a few Pagans who scoff at the idea of organic development of personality, especially when it comes to examining themselves. Rather, they would prefer to see a world in which they -and perhaps the Gods- control their development without any form of external -cultural- influence. Perhaps this rises from a reverence for "the Individual" and "a lack of organization" that is so common in America and Western cultures. But while such a belief has it's value in teaching responsibility and reliance, it can be taken too far when it ignores the realities of the larger community for personal importance.

   But what's the point of all this? I think, as I look back over the years before, both in my lifetime and further, I see that to understand where we are, we have to understand not just ourselves, our teachers, families and friends, but our enemies, associates and fellow humans. Whether or not such introspection makes us feel insignificant or overly complex, it is factual.

   We come from vastly intertwined backgrounds -and our communities- no less so.

The Day We Activated

"What was it about that night?
Connection, in an isolating age...
For once, the Shadows gave way to Light;
For once, I didn't disengage...!"

-"What You Own", RENT

   No one starts out life thinking that they'll become an activist. Even the most flamboyant drama queen doesn't come into this world planning to make a stir. Rather, the pressures and experiences we encounter goad us into action and forge our communal, political and social identities. This desire to change our surroundings seems instinctual; perhaps being "an activist" -in this fashion- is something that is a core part of being human. I'm not certain.

   However, many forms of activism have either faded or lost their impact due to over-exposure. Media hype or even something as simple as inertia can also doom the best-intentioned movement or organization. When Pagan Pride began, it was intended to be a new sort of outreach, modeled on some previous patterns, but with sufficient differences to avoid the pitfalls of past mistakes.

   Those who worked that first year planned to reach out and -through direct demonstration to other members of the wider, non-Pagan community- show that Pagans, while possessing many differences, were still neighbors, relatives and contributing members of society. By showing ourselves, publicly and openly, we hoped we would not only be able to provide a venue for celebration of our own heritage, but also to foster an environment in which those unfamiliar with us could overcome the centuries of negative connotation associated with the word "Pagan".

   So, then, why the term "Pride"? What is it that we are proud of and why do we proclaim it proudly in an open forum? What is today's Pagan Activist?

   To be honest, the legacy of Gay Pride (or GLBT Pride, to use it's current name) has a long history in activism circles. Often, people just speak of "Pride" itself and the rest of the phrase is just assumed. In truth, some members of Pagan Pride events have balked at that appellation, concerned about the baggage that might come along with the term. However, few other titles seem appropriate.

   We gather because we have a lot to be proud of, but -at times- don't see it. Every day, we work hard to achieve goals that range from the personal to the public. Just by living our lives, we expand upon that web of experiences that makes us who we are and -by extension- influences those around us.

   What goes around, comes around.

   Physical boundaries are often drawn by political officials, creating artificial groupings of people who become dependent upon each other in day to day life. Other influences: cultural, natural, media and religious also influence us to bend and sway like grasses on the Great Plains. But none of us are blind; we can see these connections if we look. Often, however, we are distracted by a lack of context.

   We see "Pagans" without knowing what that really means. We see "Republicans", "Democrats" and "Greens" and take those terms -with all their baggage- and make superficial judgments. We see "Gays", "Straights", "Christians", "Moslems", "Jews", "Mothers", "Fathers" and many other categories of people, but rarely see them in the context of our communal web.

   So that's why we hold Pride and a million other gatherings, circles and get-togethers. That's why we talk, argue, demonstrate and activate ... to share our perspective and hopefully learn about that of others. We need to recognize our impact upon the communal web; we need to see it for ourselves. Our past is crucial to our present and stands as hope for our future. Therefore, to show others how we are connected, we open our doors proudly ...grandly... and invite the world to see us for who we are. Flaws and strengths, side-by-side, we stand up and look within, baring all, for those who -whether they like it or not- are our neighbors.

   So, why activate? Why stand out and try to make change? So we can recognize ourselves on the canvas of the larger world. So we can show others our place in the communal web. We can look back and see our triumphs and mistakes, even taking pride in our errors ... recognizing them for what they teach us.

   Look at those around us who fill every age range, race and gender. Look at the new faces joining the Pagan family of religions every day.

   We have quite a bit to be proud of and as we consider our place in the world. But what good is introspection if it stays within? Our minds and souls only influence our communities if we open them up to comparison. We have to risk finding out we are wrong in order to gain the possibility for advancement. An idea forged in the present is but a ripple in the time stream; doomed to be lost unless it is acted upon and manifested into a torrent ... turned into a plan for times yet to be.

Roads Untraveled, Roads Ahead

"Why is the path unclear,
When we know home is near?
Understand, we'll go hand-in-hand,
But we'll walk alone in Fear...
...Tell me...
Where do we go, from here?"

-"Where Do We Go From Here?", Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "Once More, With Feeling"

   Even if the human race develops time travel in some distant, science fiction future, the route we plan is always going to be distinct and our own responsibility. What we build today ...what we think, see and do... will create our future. As those who read the Tarot know, what we see laid out on the table before us is but one, possible path available. We may have insight into what is coming, but that's no guarantee that it will happen.

   How do we, then, decide what future we're going to sculpt? If the idea of Pride succeeds and we can demonstrate our place in the world, overcoming prejudice and apprehension, how do we turn that recognition into action?

   Often, it's not a conscious effort, despite our desires to make it so. Most of the time, what comes to pass is an outgrowth of our daily deeds; not the well-intentioned actions of those trying to create the landscape we'll occupy.

   How we live our lives today -in the here and now- is going to lay the foundation of the world we'll see in the next millennium. We'll work alone or in groups, singularly or together, to craft our lives according to what we feel is best for ourselves and the world of which we are custodians. But, in the end, our vision of that future world will probably not be what we think it will resemble. Regardless, our very act of existing will create a future thanks to our interwoven natures.

   Does this mean we stop trying to plan? Hardly. In planning for tomorrow, we engage in the most solemn and potent ritual of all: hope.

   By the very consideration of the fact that there will be a tomorrow, we perpetuate the legacy of people who have tried to make the world better. Will it actually be a brighter place? Who knows? But inherent in the thought that there will be a tomorrow is the realization that we are responsible for it in our deeds, today.

   With a panoply of tools at our disposal, we cannot help but try to apply them to the task of changing the world. That's what magick is, in most Pagan faiths: a tool by which we change and are changed. But it is not the only one at our disposal. That web of community -of correspondence- supplies us with the opportunity to create a future that takes into account all of our diversity, desires and thoughts. It is the only tool that can ensure a world built upon balance.

   For only through recognition of all existing societal forces can we try and meet the needs of the society-to-be. Anything else will be lop-sided and end up falling apart without real foundation.

   The human race has had the opportunity to see this for a long time and we see pieces of this "future-sculpting" philosophy enshrined within many of our religions, philosophies and political systems. But the recognition of the vastness of the tool-set is daunting. The sheer scale of the reactions to our actions is mind-boggling. If standing on a hill beneath a sea of stars and looking outwards into the Milky Way fills us with a feeling of insignificance or isolation it is only because we don't see the connection that makes those stars and worlds all a part of our here-and-now.

   Creating tomorrow is, I think, is not just the ultimate goal of Pagan Pride but also of humanity. Sculpting a world in which people of all faiths can stand together -not despite their differences but because of them- is only possible when we look to both the past and present, within and without. We need to understand each other if our works are to last as long as the Pyramids or the Great Wall of China.

   Building a community on top of a spider's web may seem to be a weak foundation, but -in truth- those strands are stronger than steel.

   To be honest, this essay has been a clearing house of ideas, perceptions and personal emotional states. Like Paganism itself, it reflects a patchwork blend of concepts and experiences that don't always seem to flow logically from one point to the next. I suppose, taken as a whole, it forms a pattern, but such is the magick of Chaos mathematics. Or, perhaps, synchronicity.

   So, what will the next five years bring?

   I don't know; it's not my call. I can make guesses, but I think it's more important that we try to make that future something that reflects our understanding of each other and ourselves. It's inevitable, really, that our Pagan society will be a polyglot average of it's members, but why not take advantage of that property and try to guide that developing tomorrow by working together?

   That task is up to all of us to achieve, Pagan and otherwise... It's also our responsibility.

©2002 Sylvan SilverNight
October 6th, 2002