WHAT THE THUNDER GOD SAID

(EDIT: I needed to differentiate, perhaps, between working with a Diety in a Circle, or praying, or doing any Magick, etc, and actually having One manifest. The best way I can think to describe it is the difference between going to Church and talking to the burning bush. Or the difference between receiving messages from the dead as a Medium, and living in a haunted house. Not good examples, but the only ones I could think of.)

When the old Gods appear, it is as if They are as surprised as you are. I met the God Lugh once, in my backyard in Los Angeles, on Lughnassadh.** He looked around curiously before accepting my offering.

"Thanks for this," He told me, holding up the ear of corn I'd put on my altar. (It's essence, or spirit- the corn didn't actually levitate). "And for all of this," He added, indicating the vegetable garden. The offering was the only ear of corn my garden produced, tiny and stunted. I planted them in a straight line and they didn't cross pollinate. He accepted it as graciously as if it had been a cornucopia of healthy vegetables.

Then He left. Which was too bad, because He was the best looking God I'd ever seen. And there is no blasphemous guilt in lusting after the pagan Gods.

Returning to the weather of the mid-west has really taught me some humility in terms of being a witch. I always felt so proud in L.A. when I could call a wind or a breeze on a motionless day. Here I have discovered that getting the winds to cease is a much greater skill. And until very recently I could never accurately predict the weather.

In fact, it has taken me over a year to understand that in St. ("if you don't like the weather wait five mintues") Louis you have to actually pay attention to the weather. (Over two decades of Southern Cali's 350 days a year of sunshine. What can I say?)

So I was more than a little surprised when one of the Thunder Gods showed up in the living room Thursday night. Just a brief, introductory appearance, and then the storm didn't arrive until Friday night.

Coming home on the train with all of the Cardinals fans on Saturday evening, I felt Him again. Maybe no game this night. But it was still sunny when He appeared. However, by the time I got off the train the sky had darkened. Distant rumbles threatened.

I was home before the rain started. I needed to eat and make phone calls, change my clothes, get something to drink. I wasn't in the frame of mind that I normally am when a God makes an appearance.

"I am here," He said, appearing behind me like the spirits do, and speaking to me directly this time. "What have you to say to Me?"

He was definitely commanding. You wouldn't dare forget to capitilise every pronoun when writing about Him.

"Praises, Thanks, and Blessings to You," I told Him. "I welcome You here now, and Your presence in my life."

This pleased Him. "Come, watch the storm rise and take hold," He bade me. "Listen to My voice. Talk with Me and admire My Children the lightning."

He was like a kid, so excited to have me go to the window and watch the storm build and the rain begin.

"Are You going to be done soon? I have to walk over to the laundromat," I asked Him distractedly, and perhaps far too casually, as a steady rain took hold.

He roared with laughter, both His presence, and a thunderclap from outside.

"You think I can arrange my schedule to all of the things you humans do? Ball games, weddings, laundry." He threw His head back and laughed some more. (He actually slapped His thigh. Never seen a God do that before.)

These Gods may not be the all-powerful Jehovah who can part the seas and raise the dead, but They aren't to be trifled with. They aren't the elemental kingdoms, who can be summoned and commanded by ceremonial magickians and insistent witches.

As I contemplated Him it came to me that He resembled someone I used to know a long time ago, whose spirit is often around me now. A gay Chippendales stripper that died of AIDS back in the 1980's. When we would go over to Illinois to dance at Faces, my stripper friend used to wear tight leather pants or jeans and no shirt and a silver chest harness of twisting, interlocking snakes. He drove all the boys and she-males mad with desire. And all of the breeder girls, too, me included.

The thunder God wore a harness over His bare chest, made of what looked like black leather and shiny studs. But I knew that it was the darkness and power of two clouds clashing woven together, and the flash of electricty about to be unleashed. His breeches and his boots were woven of the same material. His strong wrists were girded with thick, metal-like cuffs, loud and fierce.

Like I said, there is no guilt in lusting after the Pagan Gods.*** Pagans do not endorse this notion that one realm is above another. The material plane is no less sacred than the "heavenly" plane. Sex is the main human embodiment of the sacred dance of the Lord and the Lady. Lust is a compliment, an offering, worship.

"Yes, it pleases me to take a form that pleases you," He responded, answering my question before I'd asked it. "To remind you of an old friend, for that is what we are, witch. But I also look like this."

Beautiful, regal, African Oya, bearing her stormcloud headdress and lightning sceptre, appeared next to Him. I nodded to Her in deference, and She vanished.

"Why do you seek me out?" I asked Him.

"Because you seek me," He responded. "I have been lonely for very long. I am always present, but few speak directly to Me. And even fewer have the power to summon Me in human shape."

I forgot to say thank you for the compliment, because I was stunned that He would be lonely. What about all of those people begging Him to let the game go on, or to hold back for a trip to the laundromat, or the store?

"You are a witch, are you not?" He asked me in response, with a curious tone and expression.

I was properly chastised. He comes with the storm. He is part of it. Thunder alone does not stop a game, or prevent a walk to the laundromat. But He was also telling me something else. People pleading for personal favour are not a conversation for Him. Or for anyone, for that matter.

A witch must mantain more than just human friendships. And I like it when my friends read my blogs ;o) or applaud my endeavours. It stands to reason that the God/desses would feel the same. That They enjoy appreciation for Their work.

I have been a witch for so long now, I have stopped "practicing." I have learned all the pantheons, studied so many of the paths, that I have become stale. I had forgotten what a thrill it was to simply have a conversation with a Diety that I'd never met before and wasn't working with directly.

I had forgotten how lucky I am to be a witch. Witches can take part in the conversation that Nature is always having. Witches have friends who are trees, animals, winds, rocks, rivers, and hills. We know what bridges trolls live under, and how much payment they demand. We know what the twinkling stars are singing about. We know a God when we see One, and we know that S/He is a friend.

The storm Gods here are different from the ones in Los Angeles. Every region has different spirits, different entities, and different power. That it has taken me a year to introduce myself to this one shames me.

I have been writing a lot lately about how important it is for more witches to answer their powers, and take part in this conversation, mostly because of the environmental crisis we are in globally. Yet I had forgotten that it is an ongoing process. And one that is meaningful to both parties. And it is not meaningful if it is one-sided. If it is only one side asking a favour.

"Praises, Thanks, and Blessings to you again," I said to Him, making it an offering of Love and appreciation and nothing else.

He smiled at me, pleased, and accepted it. His grin widened. "Laundry!" His laughter roared across the sky, and He vanished from my sight.

PRAISES, THANKS, & BLESSINGS!!!

** Lughnassadh is not August 1st usually. Modern day Pagan calendars use the fixed dates of the Catholic Church. (I don't know why. There is no reason for this mistake. The Quarter days are astrological occurences.) Lughnassadh occurs when the sun reaches 15 degrees of Leo.

*** This is not to say one should ritually or otherwise follow the old mythologies and have intercourse with a God/dess. It is powerful enough, in my experience, to draw down Their power into yourself and a human partner, usually for rare ritual purposes. And even then should not be taken lightly. But I believe that some modern day Pagans would disagree with me on this.