kethrai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Of Kitchen Witchery And Grace, Part Two I have an admission to make, dear NonScheduled Reader. I am awfully arrogant. I like to think of myself as a nonpartisan, so-liberal-I-practically-don't-have-a-pulse, damnYankee practical person. But. In point of fact, since I started following a pagan path, (actually, since I lapsed from Catholocism) I neither wear, nor, with the advent of my jewelry business, sell....crosses. That's where I stick. I know the cross is a symbol of other religions than Christianity, I know there are a number of crosses that are specifically pagan, I do like the look of them (except for the really gruesome ones with the dead-guy-on-a-stick with blood streams and whatall, but what can you do) but I don't wear them. Or sell them. Considering I am hung about with jewelry like an early 80's era Madonna and adore gothic architecture and, in fact, would be a Goth Chick except that it takes too much time and trouble and general fussyness with one's appearance, you'd think I'd embrace all the crosses out there. But no. And that little bit of intolerance is coming around to bite me, in the same way that most of the time I find that my unreasonable prejudices tend to loop around and bite me and all things taken together, I wonder if this isn't one of those moments that She isn't jerking the chair out from under me at the last minute so I land on the floor and rattle some sense into my thick skull. The particular path that I embrace is known as Sacred Hospitality. It's a nice low-key sort of thing; it involves being the best host I can (the obligations being to honor my guests, offer them the best of my household, and to protect their honor while under my roof--the correllary to that being that if they dishonor my roof, I am within my rights--and my obligation--to eject them, bodily if necessary) and being the best guest I can--honoring my hosts,bringing no dishonor under their roof, accepting with gratitude and grace that which I am offered. A good part of Sacred Hospitality is both giving and accepting gifts with grace, and that...is where I fall down. You see, the giving end I'm pretty good on--I adore giving gifts-- but in the last six months--twice-- I have been given...crosses. The first one was from a guy at work. His mother passed away, and he wanted to give some of her jewelry to people who would appreciate it. Since he'd seen me clanking about the plant, he very kindly brought me a couple of brooches and one of them...was a cross. A very pretty, medieval-looking Maltese-style cross. And then, as you read in my previous entry, dear Nonscheduled Reader, there was the young man I performed a sage-ing for, and he brought me, as a thank you....a Celtic cross. The first could have been a random happening. The second...oh, ouch. After all, my young man who got sage-blessed was giving me a gift in direct response for Hospitality. I could have maybe shuffled off the first cross to my mom, who collects them, but the second...ouch. No. Part of the contract is grace and acceptance of Hospitalty, which that young man exhibited so beautifully and spontaneously, both in the recieving and the spontaneous gifting. And by the contract of Hospitality, I should wear them. Both. Yes, there is Someone laughing. I can hear Her clearly. Can't you? 5:43 p.m. - 2007-01-18 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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