by Rev. Melissa Burchfield, ADF Master Bard

There have been many articles written about devotional practices among polytheists. Folks who have listened to my music already know I am most definitely counted among those with devotional-type practices.

Before I left Christianity, I was a musician in that realm, too. I played and sang with the worship bands in several churches, and I even led some of the worship music in the college Christian Fellowship group I was in. It was actually the music that kept me from leaving the church, even when I knew it wasn’t the right path for me. I knew I was a polytheist long before I knew anything about Wicca or Druidry or even neopaganism. I didn’t have names for these things. All I knew was singing brought me to a place where I communed with several different beings with distinct energy patterns (I am energy sensitive. Not all people are).

My Wiccan years weren’t full of much music. All the music I produced then was fairly secular and heavy with emotionality. It wasn’t until I joined ADF that I began to blend music with my religious path once more.

I have over a dozen devotional-type songs that I’ve written, but I haven’t written anything in over a year—until this evening. My reflection on this evening’s creation centered on why I have been so lacking in creativity. I mean, I’m a Master Bard, and music has always been such a significant piece of who I am. 

A month ago, we attended the Ad Astra retreat in Kansas where Rev. Badger and I sat on a panel discussing family paganism. One of the statements I made was, “I don’t pray well with others.” This is very, very true, and I know there are others like me. 

As I was reflecting on these two pieces of information, it dawned on me. I don’t pray well with others. I think I actually need to be alone to pray. My personal prayers are private and intimate. In this place alone can I find the stillness and quiet my spirit needs to hear the songs the Kindreds are singing that I so desperately try to catch with my pen and guitar. I need alone time to be a devotional polytheist. Otherwise, I’m just going through the motions.

Fortunately, we are an orthopraxic, right action, religion. Going through the motions is the part that is required. It’s not that I don’t get anything out of these motions, because I do. I love the gift of witnessing others pray. It is a joy that I am blessed with as a Priest. It is renewing to pray with others, and it definitely helps to build good, solid relationships. What I don’t get is anything new.

Devotional polytheism is a way of praying. It’s a way of connecting. And some of us, extroverted or not, need to express our devotional polytheism in private. Much like a seed in the ground, songs and poems and prayers come to me in this solitude, and when I emerge, I have a beautiful blossom to share. 

Here is the devotional work I completed this evening:

At the Center: A Song for the World Tree

Sing to the Waters, the ever-flowing Sea
Sing to the Fire in the Sky
Sing to the Waters that flow through you and me
Sing to the Fire on high that crackles merrily

At the center, a spark falls to the sea
Boiling Seas and Roaring Waves
At the Center, grows forth the Sacred Tree
From the misty depths where the Fire meets Sea
Reaching for the sky
Oh, Sacred Tree, grow within me

Sing to the Waters, surrounding all the Land
Sing the Land on which we stand
Sing to the Waters, sing to the Sky above
Sing to the Land, The Earth, The Mother of All
in fullness, joy, and love

At the Center, where Ocean meets the Land
Where misty shapes dance on the breeze
At the Center, the place where life began
By Holy Well, by Fire on High,
By Earth beneath our feet
Oh, Sacred Tree, hold fast the ways between
Oh, Sacred Tree, grow within me

May you find your place of solitude and crack open your seeds of inspiration!

Blessings,
Rev. Bee

I’m busy. I am a mom, a partner, a full-time manager, a priest, and a grad student. Actually, I’m very busy. When I first sat down to write today, I thought I’d be writing about that—about how being busy means it is more important than ever to seek balance in your relationships, and about how finding time for self-care is necessary to decrease and alleviate burnout. 

And then I got frustrated with the younger two children.

I’ve been telling them to clean their rooms for months, and because I am busy, I’ve let them slide with the occasion load of laundry leaving their rooms and habitual round-up of dishes. Yesterday, I decided to take the time to “Mommy clean” their rooms. This is usually met with tears and sadness. “Mommy clean” means I go in with garbage bags and throw away anything that is gross, broken, or old and without sentimental value. 

Timmy was a trooper. I had to reassure him several times that he was not in trouble, but for the first time, he didn’t lose his cool and have an emotional breakdown. He had a couple moments of sadness, but we were able to talk through it and finish the task together. I am so proud of how far he has come!

In Jessica’s room, my goal was mostly to get rid of all the clothes that are too small to make room—and then I opened her closet. Piled high with blankets and stuffed animals, boxes and bags, random shoes and clothes and who knows what else, her closet looked like an entropy-bomb went off inside. We decided we needed to clean the closet.

Over the next two hours, we pulled everything out and sorted it. We filled eight garbage bags full of trash and donations. This simple purge of her room became a right of passage. Jessica made some choices as she was looking through her life, through everything she owns, and began to throw away the little girl that she once was. She threw away broken crayons, old drawings, shoes, games, and her Barbies. I sat with her as we remembered all the little memories that lived in each of those old things and made room for who she is to become.

Jessie will be thirteen in three weeks. Thirteen! I can’t believe it, and yet I am so excited we’ve made it here together. Jessie threw away her Barbies, but don’t worry, she kept the stuffed animals. 

Blessings,
​Rev. Bee

DISCLAIMER: There are occurrences that go beyond personal emotional, social, and tribal hurt that enter into the realm of the law, both civil and criminal. The opinions below are meant to address the aforementioned, and do not necessarily apply to the latter (although what a grand experiment in non-duality healing, along with Truth & Reconciliation that would be). 

Some boolean, y'all… dig it. 

IF a part breaks in a larger, more complex machine, THEN we throw away the entire machine and get a new one. 

Wha…?

Ridiculous, no? 

Now, let's take that same idea, and apply it in a different way. 

Hypothetical: Person A does something understood as harmful, "wrong", offensive or off-putting to Person B. Person B then deems Person A unworthy and ends all contact with them, moving on to greener pastures with others. 

Happens all the time. 

Why would we, a people who are all about building relationships in our religious practices, take someone (someONE, mind you… not someTHING) who we have invested time, care, emotions, and connection with, and throw them away? It would be ludicrous to think that we would embrace that model with a THING, but at times, it's a knee-jerk response with one another.  Why? 

For one, reinvesting in things can be difficult… especially reinvesting in one another. Putting a new part in a vintage car would make sense, because you can't throw it away and get another one. It's unique, rare… special… so, you reinvest in it, and replace the part with care and attention. People are more unique and rare than any THING one could imagine. They have complexities more detailed than gems, and are capable of quality finer than that of any treasure… certainly beyond a car. 

So, if we can understand our innate human-worth, we can see why we'd reinvest; however, the throw-away model persists. It continues to appear in our interactions with one another. Why?

Because we're hurt… and hurt is real… and it's real in a way that causes us to feel vulnerable, exposed, tender, and raw in ways that nothing else can… and sometimes when we're in that place of hurt, we protect ourselves by throwing away those closest, those strongest, and those most able to help. We can become snarling, emotional-beasts… unhallowed wights from the darkest corners of the lore. We often mistake the hand coming toward us with care as the hand coming toward us in harm. In this place of fear, it's hard to see truth… it's hard to have perspective. 

Now, since we're talking about people here, and not things, there's another independent, sentient being at the other end of the causality-matrix. As much responsibility is on the person hurting to receive validation, and eventually seek perspective, the person who caused the understood harm has responsibilities, too. 

What I'm suggesting here is to practice this reinvestment idea within your own relationships, wherever they may arise. 

​It's a worthwhile practice, step out of our own ego, and take a look down at the totality of a situation, a'la SkyFather… different perspective, not better.