My pagan year: N. the religious buffet
Religion has always been elusive to me. Even when pressured upon me, I never became devout.
My biological family were generic Christians--possibly Catholic (grandfather originated from Italy)--and did the bare minimum, celebrate Christmas, Easter, but never church on Sundays, so when my bio-mom began dating a Jewish guy, it was jarring to be sat down at a desk with a number two and paper to practice drawing the Star of David. I obliged and didn't complain about going to temple--I never officially converted, but for all intents and purposes, I was Jew-ish. (Also, apparently I'm Jewish on my bio-dad's side, not technically not Jewish, but anyways....)
Upon being thrust into foster care, I was expected to convert to whichever religion that particular family practised: Lutheranism, Mormonism, Catholicism--my Catholic foster mother, Phyllis, was especially zealous. After school religious education, baptism, first communion, church every Sunday--I simply didn't believe. Did I learn a lot, of course, and I wouldn't trade these experiences, but the religious trauma exacerbated an already deep depression.
It took my years to fully understand what I experienced and why--to move past the resentment I held for the people who tried so hard to mould me. Whereas people around me flocked to religion for solace, I tried to escape for the same reason.
During my tenure at foster home number one, I felt out of place--unwelcome--it wasn't a home, but a place to live. One night, I prayed from my twin bed for God to kill me in my sleep. Eight years old. When I stopped believing in God, I thought to do it myself.
I've never escaped my depression, but it became manageable as an adult. Having freedom certainly helped. Though I walked away from religion, I never became an atheist but an agnostic. There's plenty unknown about life and the universe, and I cannot say higher powers do exist nor that they don't. I'm somewhere between a Mulder and Scully: absence of proof doesn't not validate an unseen truth, nor does it prove a negative. What attracted me to paganism is not the idea of a higher power but the commitment to living the best life possible, to celebrate what I have, not what I aspire to have. I've been observing, somewhat, the pagan holidays for about a year and a half--a "training" period. It wasn't as odd an experience becoming pagan as it was trying to be Jewish; I already practice tarot and read birth charts (proud Capricorn). Rather, I felt I arrived at where I should have already been.
This marks my first year as a fully committed pagan, to be documented in chapters coinciding with each pagan holiday. I'm still learning, and occasionally need reminders from my wheel of the year as to when each holiday falls, but I'm already all the happier for commencing this journey.
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