Humanistic Paganism

Monthly Archives: October 2017


Happy Fall Equitherm (Samhain)!

Our Ancestors reach back in an unbroken chain billions of years long. Celebrations Death, the dead, and our Ancestors fill our minds today. Some of the ways many of us are celebrating were published a few weeks ago, and at least…

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Teaching Death to Naturalistic Pagan Children, Addendum – by [Starstuff, Contemplating]

In the earlier post on teaching children about death, Kansas covered several important points.  In teaching those, the additional ones mentioned above, basic family discussions (such as when a pet dies, hopefully before a relative dies), and more, the following resources could be useful.

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Dark Hallows by Mark Green [an Atheopagan Life]

This will be Dark Sun circle’s 27th annual gathering for Samhain. Our ritual includes a hushed circle of remembrance around the unlit fire, a silent walk into the woods to visit the Land of the Dead, and, once there, we speak their names, tell them what we would have liked them to have known about our feelings, our memories, our wishes and our love. Upon return from the Land of the Dead, we light the fire and the candles and jack o’lanterns on the Focus and celebrate, singing “We Are Alive!”, sharing goblets of blood-red wine and chocolate. And then, when it is time, we go indoors and break our fast with a sumptuous meal.

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Teaching Death to Naturalistic Pagan Children, by Kansas Stanton

We learn about death at school through literature, science, history, and mythology, but the topic alone never seems to be discussed. I feel like if sex education is taught in some public schools, we should be allowed to have death education. I think if we begin to discuss it with our children (whether someone they knew passed or not), it can not only help to teach them about its natural process, both miraculous and necessary as birth, but it can teach it to us, as well.

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Raising the Flame Stone: Stones Rising, Four Quarters Interfaith Ceremony, Part 2 by Moine Michelle

I’m still looking at the stone when I hear the voices of the main ritualists begin to raise in a song. I cannot really hear the words. I catch snippets—something about the land. Something about belonging to the land and to each other. I let the singing, the voices wash over me—through me—around me. I cannot take my eyes from the stone as the current raises and turns raw.

And, like that, I am opened. I surrender to it.

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