..often in my path I come across people who enrich my life, sometimes I am lucky enough to learn about what brought them to their path, I asked this simple question of the lovely lady below and she was kind enough to allow me to share her very personal story, please show her some love..
**guest post by Achtland Noel..
My grandmother didn’t believe in ghost stories. She called them Devil stories. She believes in the Devil. My entire life I heard stories of her and her mother and her mother’s mother all dealing with supernatural forces. Forces that would physically harm them, relatives calling for them that had already crossed the veil, dreams that would prove prophetic. These stories were told through a Christianized filter. These devil stories reinforced the religious dogma we all shared. Even now, they are referred to as something demonic, evil, false, misleading. That is, unless of course, they help. I grew up hearing a particular story from the family of how my mother, while pregnant with me for eight months, was led throughout the house by an angel in a dream to avoid a threat. Later, that threat was real and following her dream, she escaped a criminal who had managed to get into the house intent on raping a pregnant woman. These types of stories are not new to me. They have peppered my life and continue to do so. Every premonition I had, every precognitive thought or dream I spoke of, all were filtered through that Christianized lens. Sometimes they would pass the test, other times, I was made to feel as if the very bowels of hell nipped at my heels. For anyone who grew up in a Pentecostal Christian home, the phrase “plead the blood” was forever in the forefront of our minds. Seems an innocent enough phrase, empowering even, but not for us. It was a plea to Christ to help us battle the devil and his minions and you never quite knew if it would work. If it did not, it was due to your lack of faith. Everything fit squarely upon your own head, no matter how much they told you to “give it to god”.
Things I found fascinating such as the moonlit night, candles in a darkened room, smells of incense were all made to feel somehow tainted, cursed or evil. The feeling of foreboding thrives in a Christian household, whatever they say to the contrary. Occult knowledge, meditation, Yoga, all of these seemed to present an opening to some sort of foot hold the evil would gain over you. If your fears were vanquished, praise went to god, if not, fault lay at your feet. There is no winning in that situation. There is no peace and there is no love. This is not meant as an indictment of all who find themselves along that path, but it is a warning and an explanation for the reasons which drive people from it. I am one of those people. I left the Christian faith and began a process of searching. All organized religions had their own pitfalls, but the Abrahamic religions seemed the most blatant of them all. They are highly patriarchal, laying the blame of humanity’s sinful nature upon all women in general.
Unbelief leaves you bound for hell eternal. There is no loophole. There is no mercy. I still desired the thoughts of wonder, of dreaming and of magic still left on the Earth. There is no room for these things when I was a Christian. My personal path led me to witchcraft. I studied many religions including ancient goddess worship. Somehow, the empowerment of women versus the enslavement of women seemed to make so much sense. The best yet, that the view of god and goddess could exist at the same time. As all things are male and female, why not the creators? This began my personal walk. I refuse to believe I am unequal or in the inequality of anyone to each other. The very things Christianity touts as truths are only found in witchcraft and paganism. The equality and the global oneness, both of these abound profusely in paganism. If those certain points of belief are strong enough in yourself, to the core of who you are as a human being, then the Abrahamic religions are not for you. Those women in my family who are precognitive, have premonitions, are empaths, and have familiars are the women I want to most emulate.
My children need to know this about their mother. The truths that they believe of equality, oneness and love, are all embodied in my own spirituality, not in any organized religion. The states of spirit and energy and love within us all are far more broad and precious than to try to wrap up into a tight package. It is especially difficult for it to be wrapped up by a patriarchal religion. They may attempt to do so, but they fail miserable and are intensely hypocritical, because of the simple fact that they do not believe it. They profess to, but they do not believe any of it to be true. It was not until my very Christian husband and father of my children divorced me for another, that I recognized the concept of a blessing in disguise. I was accused of being a rebellious woman. I now love that accusation. Rebelliousness should be celebrated. It is the siren call of free thinkers and people who will not just go for the sake of following. I was taught as a christian to be a lamb. I should strive to be a member of the flock. As I grew as a woman, a mother, and a witch, I realized that I am not a sheep. I am a wolf. I am not a wolf in sheep’s clothing as their saying goes, for I do not strive to disguise who I am. I am a wolf because I recognize and embrace my own power, my own identity, and my own value and worth.