Paganism

Column: The Fires of Brighid

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I celebrated Imbolc before a hearth-fire with a Christian. Not a ‘pure’ Christian, mind you. One learns in Druidry that purity isn’t something that can exist within Nature, let alone human belief. What’s purity anyway, except a violent stripping away of flesh and bone to get to the very ‘pure’ and perfect core of existence? And by then, all you’ve got is a pile of shredded skin and muscle and hair and no life left.

Paganism

Column: A Long Walk in a Deep Valley

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I grab two pieces of firewood at a time from Alaric’s grandmother’s pile and throw them into the back of the trailer. Wood lands on wood with a solid clack, like the woodblock in an orchestra. “Who cut this, anyway?”

Alaric drops a log onto the trailer. He is a few years older than me, old enough that we were never close until we were both adults. “Me and dad.