On Finding My Spiritual Path…

I’m often asked about my spiritual path. People seem to be curious about what I believe and how I came to the path I follow. “Are you Pagan?” “Are you Wiccan?” “What tradition are you?” “Do you believe in God?” “What brought you to this path?” These are among the most common questions I’m asked regarding my beliefs. The answer is simple, yet complicated to explain. Here, I will attempt to give a general overview of my journey to my path, which will hopefully answer some of these questions.

Finding my spiritual path was, indeed, a journey. To give you an accurate context, I have to begin at the beginning….

I was raised the son of a Southern Baptist minister and was expected to be in church whenever the doors were open, whether I wanted to or not. I was very close to my maternal grandparents but never met my paternal grandparents because they passed before I was born. This is important to note because my maternal grandparents had a large role in shaping my spirituality. 

My maternal grandmother immigrated to America from Scotland when she was around 14 years old, which means she came here sometime around 1915 or so. My maternal grandfather was raised on the NC Cherokee reservation but left there as a young man. I spent many hours as a child listening to their stories. Both spoke perfect English, but grandmother preferred to speak Gaelic at home, just as grandfather preferred to speak Tsalagi Gawonihisdi (the Cherokee language) at home. English was used in public in order to not stand out as “different”, as well as to facilitate communication with those who didn’t speak either language. Because of this, I simultaneously learned both of their native languages as well as English, which was the only language spoken in my parents’ home.

But I digress… as I grew older, the church wasn’t where I wanted to be, and I quietly rebelled. The whole “faith-by-fear” concept (“If you aren’t saved you will burn in hell”) and the contradictions I heard in church, such as “God makes no mistakes, but you are imperfect and must atone for your sins” simply didn’t sit well with me. If God makes no mistakes, I pondered, then why would he make anyone imperfect? 

I started exploring other belief systems, searching for something that made sense. My jaunts to the public library on Saturdays were a prime opportunity to explore whatever belief system had come to my attention that week. Fortunately, I’m a fast reader and have good retention, so I was able to cover a lot of ground quickly and gather the information I needed.

My literary excursions quickly schooled me on many different faiths and spiritualities such as IChing, Taoism, Buddhism, Druidry, Native American spirituality (which I had also learned from my grandfather), Witchcraft, Atheism, traditional Celtic beliefs (The Old Ways, as my grandmother referred to it), and many others. I also dove into Catholicism, Protestantism, and other Bible-based beliefs just in case I misunderstood what I had been hearing in church. It turned out that I wasn’t misunderstanding. The contradictions and faith-by-fear concepts seemed pretty much universal within all Christian beliefs. But within each of the non-Christian belief systems, there were key elements that made sense, and many of those were common from one belief system to the next. Maybe, I thought, I’m on to something here…

My next move was to check out a book called Heather: Confessions of a Witch - a most interesting read, to say the least. By the end of the book, my curiosity was peaked. The story, which was supposedly a true account, did seem a bit sensationalized, but there was still solid information in there. 

My next book was Diary of a Witch by Sybil Leek. This book confirmed my growing suspicion… I was a witch. Why, you ask? Simply because it all made perfect sense. My active mind had been pondering so many “mysteries” of life for some time that Christianity seemed to be afraid to answer. I found quite a few of those answers in witchcraft, and they aligned perfectly with what I had felt to be factual. I also found no contradictions, no faith-by-fear (Satan is a Christian construct), and no feelings of forced servitude as I had found in Christianity. Oh… and no judging of others. People were allowed to be themselves, without shame or apology, and flaws or shortcomings were normal human things, and they were something to dive deeply into for understanding and improvement. There was also no proselytization. It never felt right to me to try and shame or frighten anyone to believe as I did, nor did it ever feel right to me to force my beliefs on anyone else. I finally understood who I was, and I had found deep spiritual meaning and purpose.

(A word about Satan being a Christian construct… Satan is unique to the Abrahamic religions and is usually related to demonology. During the time of the Crusades, when the Catholic Church was forcing Pagans to convert and murdering those that would not, it came to the Church’s attention that there was, in many Pagan pantheons, a horned god. In Celtic lore, for example, he was Cernunnos, the god of the wood. He was depicted with antlers and sometimes cloven hooves and was the protector of the forest and all that lived there. The Church took his image, and removed all references to woodland creatures, changed the antlers into horns, gave him a pointy tail, and red skin, removed the snake from his left hand, and replaced the torque he held in his right hand with a pitchfork. His mythos was then adapted, using the Biblical story of Lucifer (a fallen angel) making him a being of pure evil who lived in a place of fire, brimstone, and eternal damnation called Hell. The Church then had a convenient device by which they could force conversion based on fear of eternal burning and damnation. Satan, however, is a myth and so is Hell.)

By the time I was 18, I had abandoned the church, agreeing only to grace its door when absolutely necessary… a family funeral or wedding, perhaps. Even then, I arrived at the last minute and was the first to leave at the end of the services. I didn’t feel comfortable in the house of hypocrisy, where fear and contradictions ruled the masses. I had also come to accept by this time that I was gay, and I knew that neither the church nor their god wanted me there. I’ve never been one to remain where I am unwanted or uncomfortable.

For the next four years or so, I gathered what information I could on witchcraft from whatever sources I could find. Library books, grandmother’s book of shadows (written in Gaelic) that I had covertly absconded with when she crossed over (she had passed when I was 8), and a few friends that I had met whose parents practiced the craft. I also spent more time talking with my grandfather, who had a working knowledge of my grandmother’s path but was also a wealth of information about his own path as a Native American. Slowly, I began to see commonalities between his path and my grandmother’s and began to integrate the two paths into one of my own. 

For clarity, I must add here that I was dealing with substance abuse from the ages of 20 to 22. I had always been overweight as a child, and at the age of 19… my first year of college… I began a weight loss program that actually worked (enhanced in the last 4 months by speed… the real stuff, not caffeine pills). I lost 110 pounds in an 8-month period, met my first boyfriend, became sexually active, and was suddenly very popular. Everyone wanted to go out with me, and be my “friend”. It was at one of those parties with my boyfriend and several of our mutual friends, that I tried heroin for the first time. 

Over the next two years, my relationship ended, my addiction got worse, and I was trying other drugs like “magic mushrooms”, acid, cocaine, poppers, and a few others. Eventually, I overdosed on heroin that I didn’t know was nearly pure. I was pronounced dead 3 times that day and survived. Yes, I had the whole near-death, white-light experience, which was eye-opening and destroyed my fear of death. I kicked the drugs cold turkey after that, but that is a subject for a future blog.

In 1988, the year of my 26th birthday, a wonderful new book came to my attention. Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner by Scott Cunningham was published and I bought a copy as soon as I had the money. Money had always been something I had precious little of, but I managed to scrape together enough to get this book. It was a life-changing tome! Here, in the pages of this softcover book, was all the information I needed to start off my spiritual path anew in an organized manner. Questions I had been seeking to answer for many years were answered here. I was thrilled to have this new source of knowledge and thrilled that buying this book was a great investment. I had never heard the term “Wicca” before, except in passing while reading about Gerald Gardner, but this book explained what it was. After reading the entire book, I dedicated myself to Wicca as a solitary practitioner. Note: for those beginning to explore Wicca, or those just wanting to understand it better, I highly recommend this as your first book on the subject.

In 1996, I was introduced to a wonderful man who was a lifelong Druid, and we quickly fell in love. I learned much from him, including that I was perfectly free to create my own spiritual path using whatever made sense to me. This revelation was a breakthrough! I returned to everything I had learned from studying all those other paths as a teenager, including what I had learned from my grandmother and grandfather, and began to sort out what worked best for me and made the most sense. My spiritual practice was, once again, a joy as well as an adventure as it transformed into something that was much more “me”. There was one complication though… I never knew how to answer when someone asked “Are you Wiccan?” or “What tradition are you?” Everything spiritual in my life was in a constant state of evolution, and it seemed like there was suddenly so much to learn. But it was obvious to me that I didn’t fit into any of the traditions that I had heard of.

After 10 years of a wonderful relationship, the love of my life died peacefully in my arms from AIDS-related complications. My life was changed again. I had never witnessed anyone take their final breath, much less someone I loved. I knew it was his time… that his work here was done… and I wasn’t afraid, but I still wasn’t prepared. Words are inadequate to describe it, but I felt him leave. I felt his soul break free of the human form and just leave. It was so beautiful, yet so heartbreaking, too. On the one hand, he was free… no more pain, no more illness, no more annoying minutia to deal with of being in human form. On the other hand, he was everything to me. I had never known that I could love so deeply until he came into my life. And now, he was gone and I was alone again.

For the next 13 years, I grieved while trying to “find myself” again. I had wrapped my entire world around him so completely, that I had lost myself. Everything was in question… how was I going to live without the man I loved, who was I, why did he have to go, was I destined to be alone now, and how did my spiritual path fit into all that had happened? So many questions, so few answers. I was in a personal crisis. I could have just shut down, closed myself off, and gone through the motions of living, but that wasn’t me. I have always been one who, in times of crisis, pulls his shit together and deals with it. I can break down and cry after it’s done if needed. So that’s what I did. I pulled my shit together and went on a search… for answers, for my spiritual path, and for myself. 

Along the way, I ended up spending some time exploring my Native heritage… not my genealogy, but my heritage. I spent time with the Navajo and the Hopi, learning what I could about their traditions and history. Yes, my grandfather was Cherokee and my paternal grandmother (who passed before I was born) was Haliwa-Saponi, but I wanted the perspective of other nations. It was during this time that I experienced my first sweat lodge and my first vision quest. That time is a subject for a future blog to share details, but I will say that it was an epiphany.

I eventually landed in Chicago, where I lived for 6 years. I found myself positioned perfectly to attend the annual Pow Wow, which helped me continue to feel connected to my ancestry and even learn more about it. I never really had a circle of pagan friends, though. Although I had met various people throughout my adult life that were involved in Wicca, witchcraft, druidry, or other such spiritual paths, I seldom found myself socializing much with any of them. On the rare occasion that I did pursue friendships with them, I never felt that I “fit in” with them or those they hung out with. My beliefs were similar but so different from theirs, and my experiences were completely out of their realm of reference, so there was never much we could really connect about. I remained solitary in my practice and in all other aspects of my life. Dating had not been on my radar since my partner had passed because I just never found anyone that I felt was worth the time and energy of building a relationship. Those I did meet were just looking to hook up, which isn’t something I’m usually interested in. Most people don’t “get” me without spending the time to truly get to know me. I guess I’m just used to being a loner…

In 2008, while on my computer at home in Chicago, I stumbled across a chat group called Pagan Men for Men. Sounded interesting, so I set up an account and started chatting with a few guys on there. They were welcoming, and friendly, and they all had different beliefs with some commonalities. I quickly became friends with a few of them, and we discussed many things spiritual and secular. 

At some point, perhaps a month or two later, I became aware of one person in particular. His real name was Eric. He was kind, open-minded, compassionate, wise, and friendly. But this was different for two reasons… I could feel strong chemistry between us, and it was like he knew me better than I knew myself. Seriously, he just knew personal stuff that I had never shared with anyone. I was blown away and spent many hours chatting with him online. That soon gave way to exchanging phone numbers and talking on the phone for hours on end almost every night. Now, I’m not one to give my number out to random people, nor am I one to meet someone online and set up an in-person meeting. I’ve heard too many horror stories about that! I’m also very guarded with personal info. But this was different. I had no concerns about Eric. There were no “red flags”, no second thoughts, and no negatives at all. It was as if the Universe had brought us together because we were supposed to be in each other’s lives. Eventually, I ended up meeting him in Florida where he was visiting family, spending some time with him there, and then driving with him to his home in Massachusetts. It turned out that Massachusetts was where I was supposed to be, and even though Eric and I were not meant to be in a relationship, he is still part of my chosen family that I live with, and my best friend.

Eric follows his own spiritual path, which has since evolved into his own coven and tradition. (For clarity, a coven is a gathering of witches who follow the same tradition. A tradition is a specific spiritual belief system with its own set of beliefs and practices, some of which may or may not be common among other traditions.) Eric’s tradition is called One Soul, and the coven is the One Soul Coven. I dare say that most people have never heard of this coven or tradition, but that’s because it is still in its infancy. Let me explain…

The One Soul tradition is based on the belief that there is only one soul, which most people perceive as God. Each living thing holds a piece of that soul for the purpose of experiencing life on this plane of existence in that particular form. That can be a person, an animal, or insect, or anything else that is living. Each life has its own experiences, and at the end of that life, that part of the One Soul returns to its source and processes those life experiences before returning as another life to experience more. In other words, the One Soul (or Source) is experiencing everything, all at once, through every life that ever was, is, or will be. In this sense, we are all each other, because we share that One Soul (Source). 

Yes, it might sound confusing or over-simplified to read that, but when you dive into it, there is a perfect sense to all of this. In a future blog, I will expand on this topic. For right now, just know that this is my path. I’m still a witch, and working the craft is a massive part of my spirituality. Following the One Soul tradition has helped me see things from another perspective. It has helped me find compassion in situations where that’s not the obvious viewpoint to take. It has helped me rediscover and reclaim my own personal power. More importantly, it has provided answers to questions that I never thought I would find answers for. 

I suppose now is the time to answer those questions we began with. Am I Wiccan? Yes, but not as most people understand Wicca. My path is my own, created and recreated many times by me, for me. Am I Pagan? Yes, but Paganism seems to have evolved into a convenient little box to put anyone into that doesn’t follow Christianity, so the answer is really yes, but no. What tradition am I? One Soul and I am a founding member of the One Soul Coven, which currently has 4 members, counting myself. What level are you in your coven? We don’t yet have “levels” or “degrees”, but I have been a practicing witch for over 40 years and I am Clergy (or High Priest, in Pagan terms), ordained, and registered with my state. I can legally perform weddings, handfastings, funerals, conduct ministerial counseling, etc.  

This, and so much more, is what I have learned on my spiritual path. Every situation I found myself in… every world-shattering experience I had… every person I have met on my journey… every moment of pain and ecstasy… has led me here. None of it was by accident or coincidence. I do not, in fact, believe in coincidence. All of this was agreed to by the part of the One Soul inside me prior to my conception. I needed to have these experiences, feel these emotions, and learn these lessons in order to fully experience the life that is me. The end result, so far, is that I have evolved into a more true version of who I am meant to be. I have had experiences in my own life that allow me to feel empathetic to others in similar situations and to treat those people with love, respect, and dignity. Nothing I experienced, no person that has crossed my path, in my nearly 61 years of life was by accident.

The fact that I am gay was no accident, either. No, it wasn’t a choice I made as I grew… it was a choice I made on a soul level before my conception. How else would I understand what it’s like to be a gay man, born in the South in the 1960s, living through the AIDS crisis in the 1980s, and being politically persecuted extensively in 2023? I am gay because I am supposed to be gay. For all the pain that I have endured in my life, all the loneliness and rejection, all the victimization and vilification that I have endured… I would not change one bit of it, even if I could. THIS is who I was meant to be; I could not be who I am without those experiences. 

I hope this answers some questions, and that it has resonated with some of you. My next blog will expand on the foundation of the One Soul Tradition, as I answer the most common question people ask… “Do you believe in God?” The answer is not what you might think…