Home from Pantheacon

I'm still unloading the car, but after two days back at work, finally feel I've separated myself from the liminal space I enter every year at Pantheacon. I know that name sounds ridiculous, but I've gotten used to it, and even often abbreviate it as P'con.

Pantheacon is the annual gathering of California's Pagan tribes. And since I'm a crone with creaky knees and frequent middle-of-the-night bathroom trips, I'm awfully glad it takes place in a Silicon Valley convention hotel and and not in a campground.  We get together there every Presidents' Day weekend for four days of learning, ritual, and just plain hanging out.

This year I taught two workshops. One was the annual yoni self-portrait class for women only. The first year I offered this, I think I somewhat freaked out the Pantheacon staff by asking for four ironing boards and four irons. Now they know that I'm not using them for some scary kinky purpose so everyone's a whole lot more relaxed.

Brighde and I did a presentation based on the workshop we led for crones last year. Even though we had the crappiest time slot -- 1:30 p.m. on the day of registration -- we had about 20 women show up, and we took them through the program. We also recreated the various altars we'd used for the workshop and even set up the crone gate (which requires two full-length 2 X 4s, wooden stands and a crosspiece).

I wandered around the 'con, and attended various other teachers' workshops. Steven Posch's presentation on the elder gods of Paganism reminded me once again that I really truly am a Pagan and always have been. He talked about the sense of sacred places we Pagans have, and I started to think about what those might be for me. I met him a few years ago in Minnesota when I was a presenter at a group of Minnesota Pagans' Sacred Harvest Festival, and was glad to spend time with him again.

Ultimately, Steve's class made me a little sad and homesick, for my holy spots are still largely in the Pacific Northwest: Klapatche Meadow on Mt. Rainier, the weeping cherry trees we'd hide under and shake to create pink blizzards  in the University of Washington Arboretum, the giant broadleaf maple tree that used to center the meadow at Seattle's Volunteer Park, Deadman's Island in South Puget Sound, the trail along Denny Creek near Snoqualmie Pass, a grove of alder trees along Griffin Creek at CYO Camp Don Bosco. I have absolutely no trouble recalling any of these as each is so deeply imprinted on my mind and heart. And there is nothing in Catholicism that ever touched me as powerfully as these sacred places have.

Here in California I could probably say the mountaintop where we meet for Samhain,  the northwest side of Mt. Diablo in the spring, the beach at  Andrew Molera State Park, the palm tree oasis at Anza Borego State Park. Beyond this list I really have to reach and probably hitchhike on someone else's idea of the sacred. 

Sabina Magliocco, who is my favorite Pagan academic, did a really good workshop on seasonal food, foodways and sustainability with Laurel Mendes.  As I sat there listening to the presentation, I found myself remembering all the foodways of my family, and how tuned we were to the turn of the wheel of the year, even without being conscious of the fact. And after class Laurel answered my question about why we Norwegians indulge in such an orgy of baking for the Yule.  We may not remember this, but our ancestors did this baking as a way of using up the last of the previous year's flour before the weevils got to it.  Julekake, sandbakkes, fattigman, krumkake, brunekager, spritz, kringler etc. are all vestiges of a pattern of food  preservation. Who knew?

Sabina did a second presentation on the incorporation of our cultures' and our families' folklore into ritual. Again, I found myself remembering things I did when my kids were little, and that I miss so much these days. Even before I knew I was a Pagan, I always knew that the best part of the Yule was flooding the house with candelight, and that the summer solstice had to be spent on the top of a high hill so we could see the setting sun.  And every year when we weave floral-wreath headdresses for each other at summer solstice, I remember the solstice crowns I made for the kids from bedstraw and tiny daisies.

There were several rituals I wanted to attend Friday night, but I was so tired from the big push to get out of the house and down to San Jose, checked in to the hotel, and setting up and teaching the crone workshop that I made the mistake of going back to my room after dinner and just sitting on my bed and catching a little of the Olympics' opening ceremony. That was it for the night.

Religion is always a hot-button issue in my family. I'll go further and say that it was a malign, toxic issue in my family of origin, and it's not at all surprising that none of my sibs and I practice neither religion of our parents'. So I was really intrigued when several workshops that involved shamanic practices focused on families.

I don't do trance work terribly well in response to a guided meditation. For some reason, the aural pathway is never particularly effective with me. I do become the classic Martian anthropologist, sitting up on the chandelier, observing the strange humans in the room.  But still, I thought I'd give the workshops a try. One of them focused on some Saami shamanic practices, and since I have some Saami in my family tree, this appealed to me.

During the trance portion of the workshop, we were told we would probably encounter ancestors who were significant to us with reference to our spiritual paths. Imagine my surprise when what showed up for me was my beloved -- and very ample --  maternal grandmother wearing only her heavy-duty peach-colored cotton sateen corset from Lane Bryant. She's now been gone more than 50 years, which seems incredible to me when I think about it. In this trance my grandmother  was very very very upset at me for stepping away from Catholicism, and scolded me fiercely.  It was difficult and important for me to tell her that she was wrong about me and that Paganism is, not only right for me, but so organic to who I am that it's not even a choice.

A second shamanic workshop focused somewhat more on Tibetan and native American practices. Again, we were sent out in search of our ancestors, with the intent of healing some of the rifts, pain, and deficiencies in our family.  For this workshop, I found that I couldn't connect with anyone among the ancestors that I actually knew. But way way way way back, somewhere in a very cold and dark part of northern Europe, a female ancestor showed up and said to me, ``don't worry so much. We had trouble adjusting to Christianity in my time.'' 

I'm not quite sure what this all means, but I did get a sense that there was information out there in the ether somewhere that might give me more insight into some of my family's not altogether healthy psychodynamics.

One of the workshops I attended was put on by some Celtic reconstructionists from the Seattle area.  They were looking to old Irish literature as source material for a ritual they crafted for the returning warrior. I think this is a very good thing. We do have some of our young people coming home from Iraq and Afghanistan damaged physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and anything we can do to help them reintegrate into society is important.

Sunday night I went to a ritual about the various deities that are supposed to have been gay or are beloved of and invoked  by gay people, such as Dionysus, Aphrodite and Yemaya, It was very serious and somber and very irreverent and mirthful all at once, just the way I like ritual to be. I just about lost it, however,  when people began lying down on the floor to represent all of those we've lost to AIDS. My friend Robin channeled Aphrodite at this ritual, and she was absolutely stunning. And Joi Wolfwomyn, who will succeed me as the Pagan Alliance's Keeper of the Light, was outrageously wonderful and funny.

Of course I came home from Pantheacon  regretting all the great workshops and rituals I had missed, but there's never a way to take in as many as I wanted to. And some of the best parts of the conference were, as usual, just sitting and talking with friends, sharing information and insight, and just having a good time together.

I had to tip the bellman extravagantly, but he did manage to fit all the lumber inside Audhumla, not to mention my sewing machine, luggage, and the tubs of fabric, goddess statues, altar cloths, Wonder Under, irons, ironing surfaces etc. that I brought to Pantheacon.  Now I have just two more tubs to bring in from the car and un pack. And then it's time to start getting ready for Sarasvati's puja, which will be here at my loft February 28. After the winter doldrums, it's time to jump-start our creativity, and a puja for Sarasvati will do the job, I hope.  

 

Comments

[Lyon]

I always wait with baited breath for your updates. ;-) Thank you for the thoughtful and enjoyable review of as you call it, P'con! =)

[Mark Folse]

Certain season foodways are dying out. I think this was the first year I complete forgot to give my children an orange at Christmas. They much prefer the chocolate orange things I substituted a few years, since they have no conception (as we did) of the pleasure of having a piece of fruit so far out of season. And when was the last time you saw a box of beautifully boxed pears at Easter? (Yes, I'm still tied to that old purple, green and gold wheel of the Eclesiastical calendar, at least for reckoning things like this if in no other way).

At least hear in New Orleans we remained closely tied to some seasonal things: white and brown shrimp and crawfish all at their appointed time, even if the grocery bakers of the world have no qualms about selling Xmas King Cakes. I mean, really.

[Hollyheartfree]

Thanks for sharing this. I always love to hear your thoughts on this and that. I find so many things similar, and an equal number very different between the ways we live, and how we practice what we believe. I do love the things you gained from the guided meditations. I often have trouble with these as well.

[Sue]

As one of the staffers who was "freaked out" (actually, it was the male members of my crew - and they were *very* relieved when they found out we weren't doing anything horrible to our lady-parts) by the irons and ironing boards all those P'Cons ago, thanks! I loved attending that workshop, and I still have my Yoni self-portrait hanging up in my kitchen from the curtain rod above the sink. Remembering still makes me smile as I wash the dishes, too.

One of these years, I'll get to attend another of your presentations, instead of always being on-shift at the wrong times.

[Sia Vogel]

Lovely overview - thank you :-) I wasn't able to go this year and I enjoyed reading this post, especially your thoughts on the food workshop.

All good things,

Sia

[One of Gordie's Kids]

Yes I know of those sacred places in Washington State and California. I have trod all of those special places especially Deadmans and that grove of Alder Trees along Griffin Creek where I spent overnights with campers just as you. I spent 26 years in California before moving back to my home state of Washington recently.You hit Anza Borrego right on the head but I must add two more VERY sacred places that you bring a part of back with you in you forever. Those are ALL of the High Sierra's especially in the area were the John Muir and Pacific Crest Trail intersect and ALL of the John Muir wilderness. The other place is the Saline Valley especially in the area of the springs. These places are a must visit and visit and visit. They change a person forever.

[Sabrina]

I would love a spot in this workshop sueacbe I spend all of my extracurricular time shooting photos and i would love to give them the WOW factor I feel they deserve. I just spent all of my extra money on my first DSLR and don't have the money to participate in this workshop at the moment. I am truly inspired by work, and I feel that the tutorials will really help boost my creativity levels with my pictures. Thank you for giving us all the opportunity!

[Antik]

Hi Alex,I feel I deserve a break as at this menomt I have been stood since 4am at my laptop.A prolapsed disc in my spine has not stopped me doing the thing I love, giving people the gift of an image. My photoshop skills could do with some work and it would give me something to play with at 4am when the pain gets too much.Thanks and good luck to everyone X