This week, the blog Cypress Nemeton brings up the subject of eclecticism (in a brief but reasoned post) in the wide and wooly world of contemporary Paganism, which has me thinkin’ about it on this chilly grey day in mid-November. Law knows it’s a subject that gets not a little bit of attention in our spheres of worship, and it’s definitely spawned some ugliness in chat rooms and on listservs around the country in recent years. To be traditional or to be eclectic, or to be somewhere in between (and what is that then)….that is the question. Whether t’is nobler, or who’s nobler than whom, there’s a bit of that going around too. Me, I’ve done my own share of wrestling with those dark angels in the riverbeds of my practice.
As most are aware, the history of Paganism (and, as Jason Pitzl-Waters points out in his post today, the history of other religions and, IMO, pretty much anything else) is a shadowy elusive figure – cagey and tricksy, like a ferret. Our history as I know it is based on some good books and a lot of personal experience. I know enough to know that I don’t really know. The development of eclectic vs. traditional forms of Paganism is long and beautiful and messy, so in the interest of time we’ll generally skip that part (actually, I wrote it out, what I think I know, and it was just painfully long and convoluted, so I’m sparing you – something for you to say ”Amen” for over the tofurkey next week).
What I do know is that it often seems like the truth is always floating around somewhere in the middle of extremes (though this isn’t always true). I myself have waxed and waned between both of these extremes in my personal spiritual journey – beginning in the feel-good world of mix n’ match, Mr. Potato Head eclecticism and rocketing out to the badlands of hardcore starchy traditionalism. Both have their totally gorgeous moments. Both have their flaws.
I tend to list towards the traditional side still, as I believe in the power of our ancestors and the importance of feeling a connection to a community of history and time, the red thread that binds us. Yet the glittering seductive dance of so many traditions and stories that populate the imagination of the Earth are sweet – we risk stagnation to ignore change or evolution, or refuse to add to our store of knowledge and practice. Always it is beneficial to be educated fully about the historical implications of what we do when we eclecticize, how our adaptations affect communities and the Other, whether we are being responsible in our workings and our daily prayers, lest we fall into the ugly and dangerous world of that Big Nasty, cultural appropriation.
As many have pointed out, all religions participate in a natural syncretism – it’s ridiculous to suppose an unbroken purity of vision over centuries in any realm of thought or being in an anarchic species of dreamers and art-makers such as we are. So of course we are mutable, and so are our traditions. We strive for balance, which is an endless game. True equilibrium is utter stagnation (for evidence of this fact starring the ever sexy Christian Bale, see the film Equilibrium), and instead we swing back and forth along the pace of our changes.
I am a Witch, and a curious Druid in the beginnings of study, and a conspirateur in the Church of the Old Mermaids, and an evangelist for Pronoiac vision, and a lover of gospel music. I am also the daughter of atheists, the granddaughter of Christians, and the living embodiment of my ancestral story back through the tangle of ages. Is this eclectic? Is this traditional? As long as we are making critical examinations of ourselves in relationship with history, the Earth, time, our communities, and ourselves in order to be the most authentic and respectful expression of our being at any moment, do these questions of eclecticism and traditionalism matter? Is this the question? Who says? Hamlet, you shut up. Overly verbose git. Me the pot and him the kettle…la la la.
