When I was accepted as a presenter at the Sacred Space conference, it was a watershed moment for me: this was the first conference to which I had applied, and it was the one with the highest profile. It was also the first time that Sacred Space would be run concurrently with Between the Worlds since I covered the combined conference in 2015. For me, it was also profoundly informed by the pandemic: I applied in 2021 after the conference had already been rescheduled once, and despite it being the first opportunity I was given to talk about my work around pagans and depression, further rescheduling meant I didn’t get to do that until 2023 when it finally occurred. That was its own blessing, because I had been refining my message in the year-plus since Empty Cauldrons hit the bookstores.
Despite the expertise I was feeling, there is still a lot more for me to learn about my community, and myself. I’d planned a guided meditation for my workshop, one that included a solid 15 minutes of dead silence during which participants would connect with an ancestor. For a practicing Quaker like me, 15 minutes is just a quick jaunt, but I sometimes get nervous about introducing too much silence outside of that community. With my workshop scheduled for 9 p.m. on the first night—late for me, but perhaps not for many conference attendees—I convinced myself on the fly that folks who had traveled a long way might find themselves napping, rather than journeying. As a result, I shaved a bit of time off that part of the session.
It was with mixed emotions that I received feedback from one participant, who told me that the opportunity to meditate into silence was an exciting option—but one that wasn’t quite long enough to get the desired effect. I was frustrated that I had second-guessed my workshop design, but I was also thrilled to know that I can go deeper in this community, using spiritual techniques that do not include the tools that, as a pagan, I’ve been refining for 35 years. While pouring libations remains a daily practice for me, tapping into the power of silence has become more profound over time. I missed the mark slightly with that session, but I have redoubled my efforts to introduce silence to my pagan and polytheist co-religionists since. At Mystic South, I facilitated an hour-long session of silent, waiting worship; only one attendee of the dozen in the room was unfamiliar with the practice, and we went quite deep. At Changing Times-Changing Worlds my only presentation was again on ancestors and depression, and I allowed the period of silence to stretch to the full 15 minutes, and there were no complaints.
Terence P Ward 