I was there

5.0.08

celebration, goosebumps, belonging, pride, memories

In the very beginning after discovering the faerie space I felt content by the mutually defining presence of sexuality, spirituality and nature. Fellow neo-pagans to practice the rituals with, unashamed of my sexuality, without having to explain what permaculture principles are.

Later on I was reassured by experiencing conviviality – a mythical concept that I knew from the care of the soul books by Thomas Moore and that I have chased after around the world, unsuccessfully. The word comes from Latin con.viv.i.um ("feast") and further con.viv.ere ("to live with") where viv refers back to the Proto-Indo-European root *gwei capturing the origins of "to live". The conceptual depth of this underused term of conviviality is much more profound – it means to experience life together, to share it communally, to enjoy the feast of life. A bit like my Fata Morgana – a movie Le Fate Ignoranti (a.k.a. Ignorant fairies!) where an alternative family of queers and outcasts meets regularly on a decorated terrace of an apartment in Rome, to feast on food and music, to talk, to gossip, to bitch around, to tease, to console, to support each-other. The feast as a physical but also symbolic act – to enjoy the beauty of life in a company – reminding of ancient banquets but also the essence of what mainstream gay world seldom offers. The real community, in multitude of meanings of that expression. Faerie lunches, dinners, no-talent shows, bedrooms and of course heart-circles offered that and more.

There was still something missing in the fleeting experience of convivial moments. Something more solid or persistent, and more ethereal in the same time. Described by an image in the old Chinese book of changes (I Jing), Hexagram 59. It bridges the concepts of Celebration and Culture, transcending their plain meanings. It encompasses the reasons why we navigate in masses to experience the Events together – holy mass in church, movie in the theater, concert at the festival, national celebrations at the squares or the sport matches in the stadiums. No, it’s not to be gullible and manipulated. It’s the Goosebumps that we feel when we watch fireworks. The Beauty is present. We witness it together. Togetherness that makes us choose hearing the music on the concert or seeing the film in cinema instead of at home. The shared experience. A piece of art that talks about our life, our place in mosaic of the society, the bigger picture. I belong somewhere. I am proud of something. I am part of something greater. A moment of art that we co-create by our role or by our mere presence as witnesses. That which leaves feelings like: "I was there. I took part in it. I am connected to those people."

Hexagram 59 image: "The common celebration of the great sacrificial feasts and sacred rites, which gave expression simultaneously to the interrelation and social articulation of the family and state, was the means of employed by the great ruler to unite men. The sacred music and the splendor of the ceremonies aroused a strong tide of emotion that was shared by all hearts in unison, and that awakened a consciousness of the common origin of all creatures. In this way disunity was overcome and rigidity dissolved. A further means to the same end is co-operation in great general undertakings that set a high goal for the will of the people; in the common concentration on this goal, all barriers dissolve, just as, when a boat is crossing a great stream, all hands must unite in a joint task."

Whether it is misused for nationalism or commercial entertainment, it works because it refers to the existing human need – on individual level and within the society. It binds the community, it lends a feeling of meaning, purpose, place to the individual.

When do we feel this in faerie space? I ask those questions especially when anything faerie is far to reach, when I am with "other people", misunderstood, ignored, insignificant, ordinary, lonely. What are those memories that I can return to and say those iconic words: "I was there. I know these guys. I was part of that beautiful thing. I am proud of that remote family of mine. I am interconnected with so many souls on this planet. People that know me by name, through experience we shared. I am proud of being one of them. That is my world. I belong there. I have some place to return. I am expected. I am missed. I am thought of."

Faerie space, as transient as it is, can be very unforgiving in this regard. We come and go. Annoying faeries will leave one day and perhaps never come back. Out of sight - out of mind. The results of our work that we dedicate to sanctuaries get destroyed or recreated. It’s not just a lesson of detachment, but also insignificance and being forgotten. Despite our declared (and sometimes more worshiped than felt) reverence of ancestors.

This elusive something walks with us all our life. Young boys dream of having big friends that they would surprise and stun their peers with. To have a special secret that will get revealed in the right moment when we feel too small – or perhaps that will just warm us from inside, knowing that we have that other world as well. This scarcely described need is what brings us to sports teams, geek circles, subculture gangs, parties and clubs. To be proud. In yet another epic balance of "to be part of" and "to be unique". Communities give us both – sense of belonging (to the group) and of exceptionality (from the rest). I would dare to say even that this is a source of most of this world’s dramas – from the political and business elites, through nationalism to hooligans and thug gangs or mafias. All those negative examples don’t have to scare us from playing with fire – since this is just a shadow from the underworld of unheard need – a valid deity of the soul’s pantheon.

This manifests in time quality as well. When soldiers returned home from wars, they did not glorify the carnage or brutality, but yet still were encouraging their sons to experience the same thing. Like father, like son? Perhaps there was something valuable and mystical that was very incorrectly described as "making a man out of boy" - it was rather individuation of personality through adventure. The archetypal mystery of the journey of Odysseus. Soul loves to be caught in the stories. Retired soldiers process the raw material of memories and indulge nostalgia - "we have hone through this experience together" - that evokes a sense of pride and also perpetuates their ties. How and when this sort of lasting binding happens in the faerie experience?

We are working with the quality of nostalgia here. The photos of the gatherings may get a soul through lonely faerie winter but also surprise us one day with "Oh my, look at that. That was so long time ago. This was… and … We were doing … Oh, such a wonderful time back then." This is not a need of grandpas and grandmas, this is the expression of the healthy and complete soul! The concerts (and even the art performances at the Olympic Games or annual sport cups) have a great power with the songs – that distill the life experience and evoke the pride instantly. I can’t find one song from faerie space – widely recognized by most, thus binding us all around the world through non-coercive tribal identity – that I would hold in my heart so dearly, with the power to evoke the sense of bond and pride. Not the neo-pagan chorals full of out-of-scale pathos and aftertaste of amateurish spiritual enthusiasts. The souvenirs might take many other forms – a memory of event – dramatic one (celebration) or an occasional one (bathtub evening, sauna ceremony, sweat-lodge). Humankind developed rituals for the same reason – they carry that charge – if they are consciously created with regard to this magnificent quality.

I have done my share of solitary rituals – candles burning through tables, mosquitoes eating my ritually nude body unbothered by the incense, papers blown by the wind, storms chasing me out of sacred sites, missing of this and that tool. I was dreaming of sharing the magical practice - that would transcend the self, that would interconnect individuals and generations. Faerie rituals taught me to appreciate mistakes, to incorporate flaws creatively, to spice the seriousness with fun and folly that become its strongest vital part, to breath in the life, something genuine, the beautiful human imperfection. To stay aware of the setting, environment, what is there – rather than what is missing or what went wrong. On the other hand they disappointed me by some shallowness that barely engaged the spirit, far from involving the soul. What we do. Why we do it. Where are we heading with it. Rituals that would be art, that would connect us in our shared faerie culture, that would raise some hair on the skin. Rituals to remember, rituals that change, rituals that last at least like a glitter crawling from my socks for months after the gathering.