That could be a rather loaded statement. For some, it can't possibly be applied. Take, for instance, a devote Catholic during Mass. It's time for the Transubstantiation. They believe that bread and wine is literally turned into the body and blood of Christ. It is a miracle of Faith. My claiming to do the same thing, via non-Christian Spellcraft, becomes demonic – an act of darkness. That sweet, pure rose of sacrifice now stinketh up the wind with a whiff of sulphur. (Let's not even discuss Melchizedek's blessing as the prototype for this “Sacrament”.)
We've all been in the position where people did not see us for what we truly were. Realization has resulted in behavioral changes... sometimes, but not always. In my life, people often did not anticipate my intelligence, especially as a child. There I was, in my plain school uniform, looking like a dumpy ginger-haired stepchild. My marks (and conversation) proved that I had an IQ higher than a wood chip but – even then – I heard one nun pronounce, “You wouldn't know she was that bright to look at her, would you?” (Yeah..Sister of Charity. Thanks for that.)
I also had my mother's constant mantra, “If she's so brilliant, why is she fat?” Can I blame them for their perceptions? Yes and no. .
If THEY were that smart, they would have known better than to judge a book by it's cover. However, they were also brought up in a culture that encouraged negative assumptions about people of size. The “fat man” was slow, sloppy, ignorant, but “jolly” in his simple-mindedness. And fat children? We had this as a role-model:
Yeah, Baby Huey. Fat, stupid, incapable of self-determination (even wearing a diaper, for the love of Goddess!), busting furniture with his enormous derriere. What a hateful image, one that was thrown at fat kids ad infinitum... and the adults allowed the mocking. When we fat humans demonstrated our capabilities, we encountered a “Who knew?” type of dismissal. Life went on: no encouragement (generally), no apology, no education for the “normal” kids regarding bullying. Now, I was the same child before and after the IQ tests. I was intelligent before they saw the evidence; the same individual. However, the next school year, we were back to ground zero, even though a rose is a rose...
Years later, of course, I could have forced the realization onto the public. I could have joined a group such as Mensa, but declined. Hey, I'm not saying I'm the brightest bulb on the Marquee. Hell, I'm not even the smartest person in my immediate family. I'm just saying I'm not a pamper-clad, drooling idiot off in a corner. I have the minimum qualifications to join Mensa. I'd rather be a bright fish among the other carp in the big pond, than be the clown loach in the tiny pool which is Mensa.
Besides, I've known a lot of those folks. Some thought they were vampires. One was totally focused on why a certain 70's sit-com character was reading James Joyce in an obscure episode of the program. One – whom I love dearly – bounces around like a Tigger and has a hard time reading actual books. By and large, they can do an extemporaneous exegesis of the Cantos of Ezra Pound, but can't find a shopping cart with wheels going in the same direction.
My friend Claude suggested we start our own organization for bright folks who don't need to hang a sign, “Out of Solar System: back in 10 minutes.” She suggested we call it “Menza-Mensa.” I concur.
Now, here's my actual point. I am Wiccan, and I have gifts. I have taught students to utilize their own. I have been doing readings – Tarot and otherwise – for decades. I am one of the creators of the “Graven Images” Oracle deck. I am what I am. When dealing with people interested or involved in the New Age or psychic arts, I would think I would be communicating with more accepting, open-minded individuals.
I know there are still a lot of haters out there who do not understand Wicca, or refuse to understand. People like this guy right here:
I'm not worried about them. I'm talking about those who say, “Yes, I think people do have other spiritual gift.” I'm talking about those who like me, trust me, and ask me for readings or my perceptions. Then, when I tell them something that I couldn't possibly know, when I use those same gifts that they claim to respect, they get all Billy Mumy-Twilight Zone on me. (“It's a good thing you did there, Anthony...real good. Now – please – wish it into the cornfield.”)
I have had people actually back away from me. What? I'm the same exact person I was before the reading etc etc. A rose by any other name.
Please - I am who I am. Don't use me and mine as entertainment, then get all scaredy cat when we deliver on our skills. We're the same people we were when you approached us for our insight. Grow up.
Those of you in the fandom, remember this still for the upcoming Xmas special?
Looks like someone was snoozing at the photo shop keyboard. Well, it gave rise to the following parody. (I love these guys!):
Enjoy and be well, everyone. Oh! One more thing...
This July 1st, I'll be 61. I also just found out I'm in remission. Cancer has taken both my dear Rufus, and my beloved brother-in-law Guy this year. If you've enjoyed my blog, please think about donating $5.00 to the American Cancer Society or to the Edison Animal Shelter, (Edison NJ) where I got my wee beastie Watson. They are a caring, no kill shelter. (They also have an Amazon wish list). Go on their web site or Facebook page. It doesn't take much, but if everyone gave $5.00, think what good you'll do for Cancer patients or needful animals! (BTW they have another blue cat who needs a forever home. She looks just like Watson except for her golden eyes. If you're local, and are looking for a blue, go visit Skylar at the shelter!)
She's waiting for you!