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.
The Dream of a Common Language
In the dream, I'm part of a delegation of New Pagans from the West that has gone to the Kalasha valleys to attend a grand convocation of contemporary pagans, both old and new.
(The Kalasha are the only Indo-European-speaking people who have continuously practiced their ancestral religion since ancient times. About 4000 of them live in three remote valleys in what is now northwestern Pakistan. They are known for their polytheistic religion, their wine-drinking, and for the freedom—and beauty—of their women.)
A Kalasha spokeswoman stands up to welcome everyone to Kalashastan. A few sentences into her speech, everyone begins to laugh in appreciative surprise.
Although she is speaking in Kalasha, a language that none of the delegation from the West know, we find that we can, nonetheless, understand exactly what she is saying. Beneath our difference of languages, there is still a common vocabulary that we all share. The realization delights us.
I laugh and applaud along with the others, old pagans and new together.
Above: Lakshan Bibi (Kalasha)
Lakshan Bibi is Pakistan's first licensed female pilot.
Comments
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Sunday, 24 February 2019
Indeed! Very few of my dreams strike me as being profound, but I think that this one qualifies.
Me, I'm going to hold out for a metaphorical reading. Underlying all the differences of pantheon, thew (custom), and ritual, something deep down tells me that we do share an identity, besides what we're not (i.e. non-scriptural, non-dharmic, non-abrahamic).
If that's a dream, I embrace it. -
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Awesome dream! If only, right?