by Peter Freeman

Created on: March 03, 2009

I was 13 years old when I had a deeply profound experience. I don't remember the circumstances; I don't remember what brought it on. All I remember is this overwhelming feeling that I had the love of the divine. A deep abiding love that would always be with me. It didn't matter if my actions were such that I could never enter the divine presence. The love, once given, could never be lost.

Even today, almost 40 years later, I can't think of this experience without feeling some emotion.

I'm not a Christian. Since I was old enough to look at the stars I knew that the Hebrew God was not mine. The Gods I connect with are the Gods of my Welsh forefathers before the conversion. This is how I connect:

I walk through the trees and connect with the wild God of the forest. I breathe his air and see the wonders around me.

I stand by the sea and remember Manawyddan ap Llyr. I see his power and strength and draw from the wild beauty of the waves.

I stand by the graves of my parents and grandparents knowing they are in the halls of Arawn and speak again with Bendigeidfran. Resting until they once again enter the Cauldron of Rebirth.

I see the pattern of my life as it has unfolded. A series of events, seemingly random at the time but looking back there were no accidents. Everything led to where I am now. Then I think of Arianrhod in her castle of glass, spinning the web of life. Each thread having its own path. Each thread a part of the greater whole.

Many more come to mind in the course of a life filled with wonder. Ceridwen, the Goddess of inspiration, guarding her Cauldron of Inspiration. Waiting to see if I have the audacity to drink of the Awen. Rhiannon on her great white horse ready to sacrifice all for truth, honor and the care of her child.

HE above all. Dihennydd. (The ancient of days) of whom I can say little other than HE is.

Everywhere I stand, everywhere I look I see evidence of my Gods. If the Christian bible were left out in the wind and rain it would be destroyed. My bible IS the wind and rain.

When I connect to my Gods in prayer and invocation I do not kneel. I do not bow my head and close my eyes. The Gods who made iron, the Gods who send the wind and the storms did not make slaves. Neither do they wish to be worshipped by such. I stand with my hands open and my eyes up towards the sky. I honor but I do not worship. I connect not genuflect.

I have heard it said that the road to heaven is straight and narrow and the road to hell is wide and smooth. I connect to my Gods in a celebration of life on a long and winding road filled with joy, laughter, wonder and magic.

And the magic never dies.

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