Problems with reconstituting paganism

Had an interesting conversation with some friends last night regarding the difficulties that often emerge when people try to reconnect with pre-Christian pagan traditions. If anything, I guess this is something that can best be addressed by any self-professed, self-respecting pagan living in the hyper modern world... how does one (or some) reconnect with tradition without doing so through a modern lense? The reason I ask this is because quite often pagan belief systems are coated in layers of modernity, Chrisitan religious doctrine, and at its very worst scientific ideologies that have long since been disproven, i.e, racial theories that can at times form the veneer (or worse yet the foundation) of Northern European paganism.

I recall watching with horror a BBC special on British xenophobia, and one middle aged woman who lived in a low income / large immigrant neighborhood had quite succesfully shut herself off from the outside world. The only comfort she could find in her inside world was that of a renewed faith in the fairy realm. There were a couple connections I could make through this, the first being the romantic ideal that situates modern industrial working class and immigrant communities as being fundamentally flawed. The second connection was that of racial purity being associated with everything that is seen as positive in an antiquated past. The result of this could have very easily led this woman to a renewal of Christian fundamentalist ideals, also coated with a racial veneer, complete with its promise of transcendance, but instead it was based on a revisionist pagan belief in the fairy realm.

So, my questions are:
1. Does modern paganism offer a transcendalist ideal?
2. How can mythic resonance be established when psychology and individualism permeate modern storytelling?
3. How can modern paganism be steered from political and social agendas that have hijacked poor science?
4. Is modern paganism fundamentally flawed if it is co-opted to suit an individual spiritual desires?

Now, I do not presume for a moment that traditional beliefs are static to the severed roots of their origins. Rather, I fully appreciate that stories (the vessels of tradition) avoid containment, and quite effectively move across temporal and spatial boundaries in order to survive, finding those who will breathe them in. However, a key question that needs to be addressed is what happens once that story is digested and internalized through those lenses I mention above.

Maybe some of the pagan interested folk I've been browsing online will find these questions interesting.

Bob Trubshaw, an interesting author. I've been reading some of his online articles.

Jason Pitzl-Waters, by the way the reality show you are talking about in latest post kind of emphasizes some of the apprehensions I have about modern paganism. I understand syncretic retraditionalization, but I really hope this is not a story finding its home in the hyper-modern world dominated by TV ratings. Just a thought.

The nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

This is quite an appropriate poem by Wallace Stevens, given the date is January 9th, 2007, and this is the first day since late November that snow is falling in my part of Ontario. I think the most interesting line is the one he concludes with. This seems to be quite a task, at present, to behold the nothing that is not there and the nothing that is. To me, this is the place where stories emerge, the ambiguous and murky place that is both outside and inside ourselves, demanding to find expression through words. At the same time, however, it is a nothing zone that cannot ever really be quantified, which is good. Terms like alpha state, seratonin, baggage and reference have little power when they are compared to what Stevens is asking.

There is a line in Robert Bringhurst's new book The Tree of Meaning in which he states the old star maps of Babylon and Alexandria are full of stories, with stars that sometimes overlap and sometimes have gaps between, to which he says, "They are full of fictions, full of stories, but the sweet wind of reality blows through them." These stories change, however, when astronomers sought to arrange star maps in order, accounting not for the richness in the stories of the stars, but in a celestial reasoning that brought us to our current understanding of the night sky. I can only hope that whenever this change happened that it occured at about the same time a more important question was being asked, and that is, "how many angels can dance on the head of a pin?"

The overlapping of ideas, experiences and voices can quickly lead us to stories of great cacophony, the kind of stories with 18 hour shelf lives in the newsroom that by their very nature must have further negative contribution to breathe more life in them. Resolution in these stories is bittersweet. There is no sweet wind of reality, and there is a definitive something that leads us away from the nothing that is not and the nothing that is. In this world, only 1 angel is on the head of a pin.

I believe the overlapping of waves, snow and time provides a foundation for the best stories to stand on. They survive in the recesses of the people who best know what time is, and what time is not.