Not All Religions

(If you aren't keeping up with the most recent fucked up things the cops are doing in the US, go read about it or other things on race in America before reading my random shit.)

Every now and then I subject myself to reading atheist articles against religion. Inevitably, I get incredibly angry at the proselytizing, the logical fallacies, and that they lump all religions into one: Christianity as it occurs in most of America. Occasionally, the article will be a broader attack on Judeo-Christianity, and even more rarely an indictment of fundamentalist Islamists as well. Having spent way too much of my time arguing with people (yay high school speech and debate) the logical fallacies and the total ignorance of non-monotheistic, non-hierarchical religions leads to me foaming at the mouth in fury. I start stomping my foot and screaming "Not all religions!"

Right about there I need to hit pause. "Not all _____!" is never a good sign of an argument. Not all men are cissexist, sexist, rapists, but enough are that lumping all of them in together is important for  the safety of many folk who are not cis men. Not all gamers are fans of #gamergate, but as a dude looking geek, I am very careful about expressing my love for games in a way that makes it VERY clear that I'm no fan of that particular shitstorm. And anyone who says "Not all white people are racists" are pretty much deluded because honestly all white people in America are fucking racist. The only question is how much any given white person is willing to WORK ON THAT SHIT.

Regardless, most of the atheists writing those indictments of religion are coming from a place of pain. Stomping my foot saying "Not all of us!" can very much just invalidate that pain.

Not all Heathens are racists. Enough Heathens are that I step very carefully around anyone calling themselves Heathen. Any non-racist Heathens have to address the racism in their midst, because simply saying "Not all of us are like that" doesn't help deal with the fact that the folkish fuckwads drive a lot of people away.

So, I'm working on stopping my furious reaction when atheists spout off illogical arguments, at their generalized indictments of religion. I'm working on being able to engage in productive conversations, including giving them better arguments instead of logical fallacies. But, I will still not stand for getting witnessed to about atheism.

After all, not all atheists are illogical, proselytizing, douchebags.

Remembering Our Fallen Trans Family

Tonight was the beginning of the Transgendered Right of Ancestor Elevation.

Today was also my testosterone shot.

Tonight I carefully made sure of my materials, my words, and then I showered. I showered physically and did more than a little spiritual cleansing. I grounded and centered. I shaved, so I would be smooth faced as I walked into this rite. I washed my hands, loaded up my syringe, and pumped testosterone into my body. It went in smooth, none leaked, no blood spilled. I felt my dead with me then.

My injections are weekly, and after almost five years I am remarkably bad at them. I have always injected myself. Initially, I had no problem. But these days, I usually bleed. I try not to bleed all over my bathroom floor, but it's my floor so I worry less than I would have when I did not live alone. I bleed, and they hurt. Not all the T gets into me.

Tonight's shot was not lined up perfectly, but it went smoothly. No blood. No minor seepage of my testosterone oil to wipe up even. Nothing. My dead were with me, celebrating in the glory of my injection.

I gathered things together, a white cloth for the alter cloth. A fabulous purple, sequined cloth from a lesbian wedding to go with it. A white candle I had on hand for ancestor work. Handmade incense to carry my words. Matches. A large cool glass of clean water.

The first night of elevation, and I was overwhelmed. Eight more glorious nights of specific attention. Of remembering. Of love and touch. Of comfort. Of carrying their tears and anger.

Hail to all those Fallen Trans Dead. May you drink deep. May you never thirst. May you find what you seek, and know that you are remembered. We miss you. Hail to our Fallen.

Sometimes It's Better Not To Ask

I am one of those people who almost always wants to know. My romantic partners have to be ridiculously open with me, due to a combination of being way too smart, knowing them incredibly well, and epic trust issues. I want to learn, to engage... even when the answer is shit. I'd much rather hear that a partner has HPV and is now a much higher cancer risk. I'd much rather be told I'm on the chopping block to get laid off in the next month. I was the little kid who always asked why and the adult whose career is about knowing how to research anything.

I have not been asking a lot of things recently. This past weekend I specifically avoided asking someone who could actually have given me a clear answer about whether I was a psychic vampire. I have been avoiding asking my Runes most of the serious questions I'm trying to figure out.

I've been avoiding asking, because I'm not ready to get told the answer.

It is only partially about not knowing, but it's much more about recognizing that knowing may lead to needing to really DO something and a lot of things I am far from ready to take action on. I've checked in on some important things, like "Is this random urge to run away just springtime escapist fantasy or is it from Someone?" But the fact is I'm not ready to take on a massive change.

There is a massive change heading my way, I know that. And I also know that I probably won't be ready for it once it arrives. But there is a HUGE difference between recognizing Something Big is on my horizon and inviting More Giant Things right into my life. I'm not signing a contract, I'm not delving into anything. I'm trying to get my shit under control, trying to get each day/week/month to the point of rightly respecting the Spirits and Gods in my life. I've got too much on my plate as it is. I'm an ADHD-kid who never quite grew up and so daily practice is pretty much the biggest challenge. And I'm facing it, slowly, and not very well, but I'm facing it.

So, now isn't the time to go around with a bowl saying, "Please Sir, can I have some more?" Nope. Not read for it. When Someone decides I've sat still too long and dumps something on my lap, that's one thing. When I really do think I need a kick in the pants, I ask for one. Okay, more like I hang a spiritual target on my ass and a sign on my back saying "Kick Me!" because I never was one for subtly. I'm not ready to offer hardly anything. I'm not ready to agree, to covenant, beyond my present obligations... because I need to do better on those first.

I don't ask because I'm not ready to deal with the consequences.

I don't ask because sometimes knowing IS agreeing. Knowing means I have to take action. For now I'm trying to learn. Trying to get good practices under my belt for when said Major Shit hits the fan. Working on my signal clarity, working on divination skills, my mediation skills... yeah a lot of skills. I'm not ready to know, not ready to ask, because I am still on basic algebra. Multivariable Calculus is still beyond me.

With the right teacher, concentrated effort, and the time, I can get to that higher level really fast. But I know better than to dive in right now.