PSG
I've got to admit that I was really nervous about going to PSG this year. I've never been to any pagan even without my GFG boys. I had no idea who I would be camping with or who I would hang out with. I was worried that inter-personal challenges with a few people would ruin my week.
Silly worries, all of them.
I had the most amazing week. I got there two days before the festival began so that I could help set up Caffeina's. Being there so early, I had my pick of camping sites. I chose to live in one of the clearings. It was called simply "The Woods." It ended up being a very good choice. It stayed cool and dry down there. Even when the rest of camp was dealing with heat or rain.
I ended up hanging out with the rest of the Wisteria volunteers every night. They lived in another clearing in the woods called "Paw Paw Path." Of course, we only referred to it as Tent City. The inhabitants of Tent City were mainly neo-hippies. HUGELY into drumming. They had a fire ring. I danced around their fire every night. Wednessday night, with the full moon, I had the single most magickal experience that I have ever had. Our fire ring was slow that night. Nearly emptly. Only I and one other man were dancing to the 5 drummers. While dancing, I completely tranced out. I don't remember what happened next, but was told afterwards that I had started singing. At the top of my lungs. Apparently I was singing challenges to people, demanding them to tell me why they were there and what they had to offer and somesuch. I don't remember. I was in this trance for about 40 minutes. When I came to, the grove was full. There were at least 15 dancers (it's not a big fire ring), and at least 20 drummers. Spectators were filling all of the available space. Apparently I summon hippies. Hey: don't knock it. It's a skill.
I was asked by many, many people why the grove wasn't at PSG. I really only used one phrase: "And then things got weird." People would ask me to explain and I would change the subject by complimenting their sarong. "And, my, isn't it a pretty night?!"
I spent a copious amount of my spare time playing in child-care. Kids tend to be attracted to me like moths to a flame. (I think I secret some sort of juvinile pheremone.) Whenever they saw me, the ran over and plopped themselves beside me. It got to the point where I had to sternly demand that they allow me adult time. Two 3-year-olds, at different times, wandered away from their parents during the day to try to find me. A few of the parents ended up calling me the Pied Piper. (I once, jokingly, threatened to lead their children in a massive revolt against Circle. I WAS joking. . . . but I bet I could have done it.)
The interpersonal challenges that I was worried about really turned out to be a non-issue. I didn't see them much. And when we did see each other, we were cordial. I knew I didn't want to go to the tea dance. But I didn't want it to be a snub, so I brought them a bottle of wine earlier that day. They told me that I was absolutely welcome. I thanked them for that but said that I wanted to respect their space. I worked caffeina's during most of the tea-dance. I did walk by once. I got a chance to say hello to a certain tall fellow in horns. It was awkward, but it was friendly.
The numbers really weren't down much this PSG. There may have been people who didn't show, but there were TONS of newbies. Which provided a very, very mellow yet happy energy. The whole week was pretty subdued. There was a brief flare-up about my Paw-Paw being too loud with the drumming, but a comprimise was reached. A newbie (who was camped right next to me) foolishly confessed at Psyche's Grotto that he had frequent violent thoughts and impusle control issues. He and his wife were politely asked to leave. Over all though, it was very peaceful. (Circle was amazingly, and perhaps not surprisingly, hands-off this year.)
And so now I'm back. And the enormous bliss-bubble that I carried home with me from the festival is shrinking at an alarming rate. Comming home from magickal-space is hard. It's especially hard when I had such a good time. A little lonely. A little sleep-deprived, (It's amazing how much you come to rely on good drumming to put you to sleep.)
I'm just trying my best to hold onto the core of the magick I found.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Quill.
Silly worries, all of them.
I had the most amazing week. I got there two days before the festival began so that I could help set up Caffeina's. Being there so early, I had my pick of camping sites. I chose to live in one of the clearings. It was called simply "The Woods." It ended up being a very good choice. It stayed cool and dry down there. Even when the rest of camp was dealing with heat or rain.
I ended up hanging out with the rest of the Wisteria volunteers every night. They lived in another clearing in the woods called "Paw Paw Path." Of course, we only referred to it as Tent City. The inhabitants of Tent City were mainly neo-hippies. HUGELY into drumming. They had a fire ring. I danced around their fire every night. Wednessday night, with the full moon, I had the single most magickal experience that I have ever had. Our fire ring was slow that night. Nearly emptly. Only I and one other man were dancing to the 5 drummers. While dancing, I completely tranced out. I don't remember what happened next, but was told afterwards that I had started singing. At the top of my lungs. Apparently I was singing challenges to people, demanding them to tell me why they were there and what they had to offer and somesuch. I don't remember. I was in this trance for about 40 minutes. When I came to, the grove was full. There were at least 15 dancers (it's not a big fire ring), and at least 20 drummers. Spectators were filling all of the available space. Apparently I summon hippies. Hey: don't knock it. It's a skill.
I was asked by many, many people why the grove wasn't at PSG. I really only used one phrase: "And then things got weird." People would ask me to explain and I would change the subject by complimenting their sarong. "And, my, isn't it a pretty night?!"
I spent a copious amount of my spare time playing in child-care. Kids tend to be attracted to me like moths to a flame. (I think I secret some sort of juvinile pheremone.) Whenever they saw me, the ran over and plopped themselves beside me. It got to the point where I had to sternly demand that they allow me adult time. Two 3-year-olds, at different times, wandered away from their parents during the day to try to find me. A few of the parents ended up calling me the Pied Piper. (I once, jokingly, threatened to lead their children in a massive revolt against Circle. I WAS joking. . . . but I bet I could have done it.)
The interpersonal challenges that I was worried about really turned out to be a non-issue. I didn't see them much. And when we did see each other, we were cordial. I knew I didn't want to go to the tea dance. But I didn't want it to be a snub, so I brought them a bottle of wine earlier that day. They told me that I was absolutely welcome. I thanked them for that but said that I wanted to respect their space. I worked caffeina's during most of the tea-dance. I did walk by once. I got a chance to say hello to a certain tall fellow in horns. It was awkward, but it was friendly.
The numbers really weren't down much this PSG. There may have been people who didn't show, but there were TONS of newbies. Which provided a very, very mellow yet happy energy. The whole week was pretty subdued. There was a brief flare-up about my Paw-Paw being too loud with the drumming, but a comprimise was reached. A newbie (who was camped right next to me) foolishly confessed at Psyche's Grotto that he had frequent violent thoughts and impusle control issues. He and his wife were politely asked to leave. Over all though, it was very peaceful. (Circle was amazingly, and perhaps not surprisingly, hands-off this year.)
And so now I'm back. And the enormous bliss-bubble that I carried home with me from the festival is shrinking at an alarming rate. Comming home from magickal-space is hard. It's especially hard when I had such a good time. A little lonely. A little sleep-deprived, (It's amazing how much you come to rely on good drumming to put you to sleep.)
I'm just trying my best to hold onto the core of the magick I found.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Quill.