embracing paradox

Embracing paradox is a large part of any mystical love affair with the world. Pantheacon, the huge annual pagan conference in San Jose, is a garden of paradox set within the walls of a huge corporate hotel.

Chatting with the cocktail waitress in the lobby’s bar, she tells me that the Doubletree takes “all the conferences that other hotels won’t take”. Laughing, she describes serving drinks to the participants of the last conference held here. Dressed in their big fur suits, with heads sitting on laps or on the table, Furries had congregated in the bar after and before workshops. I laugh with her, smug in my assurance that we Pagans are on the other side of the dividing line between truly weird and not. My girlfriend comments that we seem so much less outrageous this year. And then a huge group of Discordians parade around the lobby, many in their underwear.

In so many ways, my spirituality seems so commonsensical. What could be more grounded than an earth-based religion? Indeed, at Pantheacon, I meet and go to workshops and panels with a wide variety of folks who are pebbles rippling out Pagan common sense into the wider cultural pond. There’s a growing acceptance and respect for us in the wider world, and listening to people like Margot Adler, Patrick McCollum and Mary Greer, it’s clear why. And amidst this, there’s also the high whack factor of modern Paganism. This paradox both drives me crazy and delights me (well, except for this growing trend of bringing pets, I hate that, but then I was too close to a dog fight in the marketplace). This new-time religion is chock full of diversity, that is for sure. The official theme of Pantheacon this year was activism, but the magic seemed to be in it's respectful diversity.

The one panel I was on, Ethics and Feri, was a case in point. It was great to sit with the others feeling both the potency of our differing views and the potency of our respect. I was the lone Feri saying I don’t relate to being a warrior (amongst many other things), but our differing opinions didn’t engender anything but some laughter and gentle ribbing. Throughout the conference, the absence of cliquishness was striking. We are a diverse bunch, but we seemed to be positively enjoying each other.

For me, this Pantheacon ended in a healing crisis, one of those distinct times in a life where you clearly know you are at a crossroads and you have to consciously choose your next step, knowing full well the import of it. But, I’ll be writing more on that, later.

In keeping with my pledge to Brigid, I’m grateful to have gone to Pantheacon and grateful to Glenn Turner for her wild idea to have an actual conference, complete with hospitality rooms and bad hotel food, for Pagans. Pantheacon is one of the most paradoxical experiences I have had. There were some years I stayed away, but more and more, I am learning to embrace it. What else can a 21st century mystic do?