First Contact

A few weeks ago, an interesting set of events were set forth. Sparked by my urge to find others like me, to network and socialize, I searched...

I met a wonderful Pagan woman via Witchvox. After speaking to her initially I found out that she's the leader of a group of Pagans in the city. This surprised me. We spoke a lot over the internet, and then late last week she decided that I could go down there to visit her. I went to the area to sign some paperwork, and I spent the weekend at her house. She had planned a Pagan movie night that friday, and I arrived about 45 minutes before it officially started...

I didn't meet a lot of new people, only a small handful. But the folks I did meet gave me an awful lot of hope for the future.

They were all very nice and intelligent. I didn't talk a lot to them, though. This is my nature; when I'm in a new situation I sit quietly, observe, and eventually adapt to the ways of the people I'm around (unless, of course, I find their ways disagreeable...).

I just listened to their talk, watching, for the first time, real, live Pagans interacting with eachother; I payed closed attention to their topics, their terminology. I inadvertently melted into my surroundings and became like a fly on the wall, just watching my fellow pagans as if I weren't there.

The first night wore on, and I spent a majority of it inside my head, digesting the fact that, there I was, in a strange and new city, amongst new people who were both alien and yet so familiar... in a situation I had never been to before, and one that I hadn't thought too hard about putting myself into. I went to bed that night, my head full of wonder; hope, fear, comfort, curiosity...

I awoke the next day to a warm shower and a hot cup of tea from my hostess. Despite that I hadn't slept much the night before, I still felt full of energy. I wanted to explore the city. I wanted to get to know more about my hostess and friend. I wanted to learn, and experience.

The first hour or so was a little awkward. I didn't know her, yet I did; and I felt that she didn't know me, and was, perhaps, as curious about me as I was about her. I felt almost as if I was being watched carefully. I felt like I was living with a new tribe of indigenous people; like I was some lost and bewildered explorer amongst the loveliest and most intriguing of the natives of the land.

We struck out on our first adventure; a walk around the city. As we explored a local park, my hostess and I got a rapport going. We talked, opened up a little, and, through our words, felt the other out, getting to see what kind of person they were, as opposed to the personalities they were, made up of the typing habits, font colors and grammar of their Internet presence.

The more we walked the more comfortable I felt. By the middle of the first day, I let my inhibitions fade away.

The night was interesting. Two new people came over. They were extremely outspoken and friendly; their actions and words toward my hostess indicated lots of time, lots of familiarity and, in some cases, love. I tried my best not to feel awkward while I watched all of them hug and talk as if they hadn't seen each other in years. I faded away into the background again.

They suggested food from a local Spanish/Mexican cuisine place. I walked with the, remaining quiet; one of them would ask me questions every now and then, and I would answer as completely as my anxiousness would let me.

I listened to them talk; I keyed my ears to the language they used, to their habits and mannerisms; I observed. I made some talk with them, about my path, my education, and theirs; this was a big step for me.

After food, they all shared hookah and we watched a movie. I thought of trying the hookah. I was worried I'd choke or that the trace amount of nicotine would have a strange effect on me. I passed on it time and time again as it was offered to me. I couldn't help but feel as if I was missing out on a new experience and, perhaps, some form of bonding.

The movie ended and one of them left. One remained and talked to my hostess about some deep things. I felt awkward for hearing this, and I wondered whether I should leave the room. My foxish nature took over and I subconsciously decided to fade into my surroundings again, and I watched and learned. My hostess was amazing. She used her new cards as if they were an extension of her higher self; I felt almost as if a Goddess were speaking through her. I was in awe at her ability, and at the tenderness in which she delivered her insights. She felt like a priestess to me. Her wisdom pouring out even effected me on an emotional and psychological way. I looked inside myself, and I could see more clearly than I had for months. I saw so many loose ends in my life, questions without answers.

For that moment in time, I could feel my Goddess was in that room, within her.

After this was over, the one new person left and my hostess retired for the night. I felt disheartened. I was going to ask her if she'd read her cards for me; I was yearning for such focus and insight into my own being. I felt she must have been exhausted, so I decided against it.

The next day we spent almost the entire day together. We talked about a lot of different things, some casual, some, I felt, ware quite deep. I learned that we have a lot in common in certain areas of our lives (the areas that are the most emotionally-rich to me, too). It felt good to have a serious but lighthearted conversation with someone I felt was intelligent and emotionally mature and capable. She taught me a lot about myself, about the Pagan community into which I was entering, about how to interface with people...about how to find my family.

I felt so comfortable around her. I was happy. I was smiling, and she made me feel... safe. Human. Pagan.

I left there in the afternoon, heading back to the RS. My heart was light and full of love, hope, and happiness. I felt complete. I felt as if I had found something I had been searching my entire life for. I felt like I had found home.

My first contact with my people was a nice one. It wasn't too much for me, but just barely so. I sewed the seeds of my future, of my networking, of some friendships. I nurtured a newly-sprouted friendship with an amazing Pagan woman. I felt good, and I felt, for the first time in a long time, like I belonged.