Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
Propitiations
propitiate v. To conciliate (an offended power); appease [Latin propitiare, “make favorable, gracious”]
Hawaiians are making offerings to Madame Pele, Lady of Kilauea.
As well they should be.
Those of us who live in places prone to natural disasters understand that—whatever else they may be—the gods are real, active powers Out There. Who cares about the Pele Within when a geyser of molten rock has just erupted in the backyard?
Volcanoes, hurricanes, blizzards: those of us who live with these things—these beings—know that, in the end, it all comes down to relationship, and—as with all relationships—to maintain good relations takes effort.
During a recent eruption of Mt. Etna in Sicily, I heard a story about an old woman who had lived on the mountain all her life. Her village was being evacuated because it was in the direct path of the lava flow.
Just before she left her house—possibly for the last time—the old woman set out two glasses on the kitchen table and filled them both with wine.
One she drank herself. The other remained on the table as she locked the door and left.
Kilauea is erupting. Hawaiians are leaving offerings.
Let the rest of us honor their wisdom, and learn from it.
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