When I Was Young

Are you sensing a theme here? Last one for a while, I swear.

I mentioned in my previous post about roughly when I began to wander down the Pagan path but, to be honest, it started earlier than middle school.

Religion wasn’t really part of our lifestyle when I was growing up. I vaguely remember my older sister going to a bible study group and there being a Precious Moments bible with her name in it. When ever we visited my grandparents (before we moved up here) for Christmas we would go to the midnight service and sing.

On the other hand my mother told me about a few practices still held in Hawai’i. Offerings were and are still given to Pele. Fish were cleansed with blocks of salt so nothing would steal away with it to your home while the fishermen still asked Kanaloa, the Sea God, for permission to fish.  It had struck me as strange that a large catholic community was paying homage to old gods.  Ones deemed unreal by the prominent faith.

Yet it the idea of multiple gods wasn’t strange to me.  Even at a young age I didn’t believe that one being could take care of everything and answer everyone.  I went to a few churches through my friends.  I loved the singing, didn’t like sunday school, and thought the church with the potluck lunch was amazing(I still think church food is the best food).  The biblical stories never resonated with me.  I didn’t gravitate to them.  I knew them, though.  I knew of the Flood.  I knew of the Jews and their Moses.  Jesus and his doings.  After that, not much else.  It all seemed so dry.  The Old Testament was more interesting than the New Testament.  I read through my mother’s old catholic bible.

I gravitated to the Greek/Roman mythologies.  While being Hawai’ian and having a mother who still partially believed in the Gods of the islands, she never told me their stories.  I would have loved them when I was younger.  I devoured the stories left over from the old times.  I knew the gods names and who correlated with who when you compared the Greeks and the Romans.  Hercules was my favorite television show for a while because I knew the characters.

But those gods never spoke to me.  I did try to connect with them.  I may have tried to force it, but you can’t really force a god to do something they don’t want.

I tried connecting with God’s. Different ones. Hawai’ian deities, Greek gods, Japanese gods, and Celtic ones. I spoke to the faeries and spirits. They answered but the gods were always quiet. I tried speaking through meditation and tarot but nothing happened.

Grendal is the one I can thank for bringing me close to the Norse gods. He has ways had an affinity towards Thor. Hindsight is always 50/50. Looking back on it I should have known that they were close. Things were shifting. I was seeing more. The Norse gods found me.

I thought I could pick who was my main deity to work with. I read about the gods and couldn’t wait to choose. Odin made it clear that I was to contact him first. Slowly I felt Loki, dancing at the edge of it all. Things go missing or misplaced for an hour. Thor is there, peripherally, with Grendal. I have sensed Frigga as well as Frey and Freya. Then Skadi came to me, in the midst of last year’s frigid northern winter. Bow making and hunting has become a widely talked about subject.

I am sad that the Hawai’ian deities didn’t take an interest in me but my father’s side had been ignored for so long. Leave it to the black sheep to be the one They reach out to.

Yet, I was waiting.

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