editorial
by Thea
In case you haven't noticed, this issue of the paper is late. Money is the primary reason; it costs a few bucks to put this thing out, and sometimes we don't have a few bucks. But somehow it always comes together, despite the fact that we have three loopy Pisceans (me included) on the editorial board. We seem to have somebody's divine blessing, albeit with caveats: We get some sort of cosmic help to get the darn paper out, but the path is never straight or easy. I suspect that our divine patron isn't Ganesha, the Hindu remover of obstacles, Papa Legba, Voudou's opener of the doorways, or any of the myriad gods associated with money or functional printers. I'm thinking it's probably Loki, trickster god and general shit-kicker of the Norse pantheon, or Hermes, mischevious Greek god of communication and travel (and lack thereof). Not that I'm complaining, mind you. We're grateful for the help, even with strings attached.
In May, Widdershins will celebrate its tenth anniversary. With the exception of the "biggies," like Green Egg, I don't know of any pagan paper that has survived as long. But our patron trickster gods aren't the only ones who deserve thanks for helping this paper stay afloat. There are the writers, who keep cranking out great material for no return except our eternal gratitude and the knowledge that they've shared something of themselves with the community. There are the many delivery elves and their coordinator, who get the paper out to the stores and other distribution locations. There are the volunteer copy editors, who save my butt every issue and allow me to do things other than fixing commas and split infinitives. There's our wonderful ad guy, who brings in the bucks. There's our utterly fabulous calendar girl, who gets together the pagan resources and events section. The calendar probably the most mind-numbing, time-intensive task associated with the paper, but it is also one of the most crucial for the community we serve. (Now that I've made that sound so appealing, anyone want to volunteer to take it on? Our calendar girl is retiring. E-mail widdershinsmail@yahoo.com if you're interested.) Then there are our advertisers, without whose help we wouldn't exist and the stores, libraries and other places that distribute the paper. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Last and most important, thank you to our readers. All kvetching about money and printers aside, it is an honor to serve the pagan community through Widdershins. Now, without further ado, here is the editorial I wrote before I knew the paper was going to be late.
To me, Imbolc is all potential. The light is beginning to grow, but it's not really here yet. Life is beginning to swell in the cold earth, but it hasn't sprung forth yet. The year lies before us, and we can make of it what we will. It is a time of promise, hope and that delicious feeling of anticipation. C. Cheek's article for this issue -- where she talks about the hope that lies between buying the lottery ticket and finding out if she won, the hope between sending in the manuscript and the (almost) inevitable rejection letter -- captures that feeling beautifully.
In preparation for what is to come, many pagans do a little spiritual spring cleaning this time of year -- clearing out the old and getting ready for some of those long-awaited potentials to become realities. Some of us also try to strip away the bells and whistles and, at least for now, get back to the core basics of our spiritual practice. Barbara Stoner has written a touching and amusing article about the elements -- a building block of many pagan paths -- that may inspire you to get back in touch with your core.
At Imbolc, Valentine's Day, with its promises of hearts, roses, chocolate, sex and -- if we're lucky -- love, is a potential that's so close we can almost taste it. D. L. Scott has gifted us with a sweet (in more ways than one) story about the first man, the first woman and the first chocolate.
The theme for this issue was supposed to be the Burning Times. For whatever reason, we received almost no submissions on that issue. Perhaps nobody wanted to tarnish their Imbolc anticipation, or perhaps the copy deadline followed too closely on the heels of the holidays. Praxidike, however, has stepped up to the plate with an article about the belated pardon of 81 suspected Scottish witches. Although, as Praxidike points out, those "witches" aren't the same as the witches and pagans of today, the attitude of fear that brought them to the stake still persists. Americans have been fed news stories and "terror alerts" to maintain our fear level at an enormously high rate since the September 11 tragedy. The promise of renewal that Imbolc brings may help us break up that oppressive energy and put that fear in perspective.
This issue also contains another great roundup of music by Genevieve and a look at the stars by Anita. If you haven't checked out these columns before, you're missing out. They're loaded with useful and fun information.
I'll leave you with a quote from C. Cheek's article: "Hope is rich soil seeded with maybes." I hope some of your best maybes take root this Imbolc.
Copyright © 2006 by the article's author