There's a school of thought that believes you can learn from every experience. There are no ordinary moments in life. Everything is a lesson, carefully tailored to speak to us at the precise moment that we're most ready to hear it.
Enter the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving Special.
For those of you that may not be aware of Charlie Brown (Old Ways has readers from all corners of the globe, so you can never be sure), Charlie Brown is an animated young boy who somehow manages to blunder his way through life. His sister calls him "wishy-washy" and his dog, Snoopy, is more proficient at most tasks than Charlie Brown ever hopes to be.
Somehow, the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving Special got me thinking about the Craft. The characters sat down for a rather haphazard adult-free Thanksgiving dinner, when Linus, a young philosopher who is comforted by an ever-present security blanket, offered the Thanksgiving prayer.
Linus spoke about the origins of the holiday, about the first Thanksgiving and the settlers who feasted in a strange new land that would one day become the United States. History has a certain weight to it. There's something about the reasons "why" that lends a certain importance to "how" we do things.
I realized that, as I raise my children, we're losing touch with why we do things. Thanksgiving, for most Americans, is a time of remembrance and honor, a time to reflect on the truly meaningful people and moments that populate our lives. While I have integrated this concept into my children's lives, at no point have I considered explaining why we give thanks on this specific day.
That lack of history extends to our own practices. Why do we cast a circle? Why not a square or a triangle? Why do we call only four elements? Why not more? And why do we hail certain directions? I have answers to all of these questions - my children and, to a lesser extent, my coven-mates, do not.
When we work with a student, we're doing more than simply passing on a skill or a bit of knowledge. To a very real extent, we're passing on a culture. Those of us who follow a pagan path do so because in our search for spiritual wisdom and fulfillment, this is the place where our hearts feel at home. We should honor the "why" just as we practice the "hows." And, where possible, we should share the reasons behind our practices with our children, our students, and our peers.
The next time you cast a circle, the next time you work a rite where you verbalize components of the casting, honor the "why" and not just the "how." For instance, in group work, you could say, "I cast this circle, acknowledging that a circle has no beginning and no end. Here, within this space, all are seen as equals." When you call an element, honor the natural world that parallels its energy. For water, speak of its connection to the ocean; to a mountain stream; to rain. Doing these things will not only instill your rite with additional energy, but will honor the origins of our own pagan beliefs.
If you are a solitary practitioner, spend some time thinking about why you do things the way you do. If you're a parent or in a leadership position, take the time to explain things to your children and to your students. If you work within a coven, set some time aside and discuss why you do things a certain way. Each of you will have a solitary practice that is in someway unique. We all find things that work for us and then we integrate those things into our personal practices. There is no right or wrong way - only the methods that work for you. Share these things with
your peer group - whether you belong to a firmly established coven or only share this part of your life with those friends you meet online. In the end you'll be doing more than just sharing techniques; you'll be building a culture. And while you may only be a culture of one, honoring the reasons behind our practice will add a depth of meaning that wasn't there before.