Lost In The Middle Of Somewhere ... Else

Every year for longer than I've been attending PantheaCon, the American Magic Umbanda House has put on a Devotional ritual for Pomba Gira. The last several years, I have been the lead singer for that event.

I have received quite a few compliments on my singing, for which I am deeply grateful. Every year I have been involved in the music we have worked very hard to make it the best we can for that year, and even better the next, so I am grateful when feedback reaches me that tells me we are succeeding, or how to succeed even more.

For a few years before I took up the singing, I helped coordinate the event and ward the ritual. We made many adjustments, some subtle, some blatant, to the balance of the ritual structure in order to better serve the needs of everyone involved. I don't think people realize how much we take to heart the critique we receive both directly and indirectly. We search for reviews of the Devotional and look at what people liked and didn't like, and more importantly, why they did or didn't like it.

We have put a lot of work into making the ritual structure more supportive for the inexperienced, while still being a positive, exciting experience for those who return each year to dance with us, and of course a pleasing offering for Pomba Gira Herself.

There are a few complaints I hear every time, and I want to address them now.

( Why is the music so repetitive? )

( Why are the lights so bright? )

( Why are cameras not permitted? )

( Why are alcohol and other intoxicating substances not permitted? )

( Why is ID required? )

Seriously.

Yes, some of our rules are more strict than may seem necessary in any given moment. We need rules that we can apply safely regardless of the context in which they arise. It might be safe to dim the lights for you, and let you and your friends photograph only each other. You might only be a little buzzed. Maybe you're obviously of age.

It's not just about you.

It is NOT safe to dim the lights for the newbie soft head who has never attended before or to allow cameras in the hands of those who won't respect privacy. Not everyone is obvious when they're too compromised to be safe in a trance ritual. It's not up to our warders to determine the individual experience level and ethical basis for each attendee.

I don't think due caution is too much to ask for a couple hours once a year, for the mutual benefit of all.

Onward!

( Can I have a necklace? )

Got a question about the AMUH Pomba Gira Devotional at PantheaCon? Ask, and I'll see what I can do to answer you.

--Ember--

Going back over my journal entries from the past, and finding bits and treasures I didn't remember, messages I internalized rather than memorizing them.

Here's one from December of 2004. It's not clear who the message was from - I was in a state of altered consciousness, but the voice was unclear: "It feels sometimes like I'm watching the world for a minute through a pair of eyes that aren't mine, even though they're in my body. I sound just like a hundred people I've known, and I know they're not me."

There's all kinds of feedback loops to a relationship gone bad - even (especially) when there's still something good left. It's a fight for control - volunteering to give up some control here in the effort to gain more overall. Pushing and pushing to find the way to win until you get what you want. Feeding your defenses and never minding if they're feeding your fears...

Subtle patterns are still patterns. It's not fair to treat somebody like they are abusive when they're not, but it's not fair to yourself to stay somewhere that makes you feel abused.

You don't have to be an abusive person to make somebody else feel abused. Some aspects of abuse are just aspects of being different people.

But not being that bad doesn't make it good. It doesn't matter where the threshold is once it's been crossed. Something's gotta give, and nobody controls you but you.

-E-

Today we had our annual Ghede Devotional, affectionately titled "Ghede Jamboree, Brigitte Tea, and Ancestors Revel! (not necessarily in that order...)".

It went not so much according to plan as about how Papa told me it would, which is to say that about half the people showed up than I had hoped, but twice as many as I'd feared. We had enough food, and it was good food. The altars were pretty, and looked He showed me, though again, not the way I'd planned. There were only two mediums, both for Ghedes, so Papa spent some time trying to decide whether to convince one or another of the lovely women to invite His wife down, to no avail, and the rest of His time flirting with all the lovely women He DID have at His disposal.

It did rain, as I rather expected it would right *after* I announced that we'd hold it in the not-raining location. *sigh* Murphy's law. Go figure.

I wasn't feeling too hot by the end there, for various reasons, but all in all I think it went pretty well, and I hope the intrepid souls who attended enjoyed themselves.

The one bit I really wanted to document, though, has very little to do with my Papa at all (which is why this post is here, and not in my journal for work with Papa):

See, two years ago when my head was washed to Papa, I had clothing specially made for Us to wear, tailored to my measurements at the time. Well, some of it was designed to be too big, for certain reasons, but the core garments - the britches and shirt - were tailored to my actual measurements.

Today when I went to put on those clothes again, I noticed that the pants had no beltloops. This was immediately apparent because without a belt, the britches were falling right off my hips when I moved! I had to hike up the britches and tie them tight with the sash, sticking ruffled up over the edge, and hope that Papa wouldn't think it was funny to let them fall right off my body in the middle of the floor! *blush*

We got through the day clothing and dignity more or less intact, and now I am gleefully informing my nutritionist that her good advice has contributed significantly to my health!

Wheeeeee!

-E-