[Dialogue] Starhawk on Katrina

[LAURELCG@aol.com]

September 14, 2005


 Sacred Ground 

  

Starhawk 

 

A Pagan Response to Katrina 

The Goddess has immense power, both creative and destructive 

 

As Pagans, as worshippers of nature, how do we respond to an event 

like Hurricane Katrina, one of the most destructive natural disasters 

in the history of the United States? What does it mean to `worship' 

something that, with one breath, can wipe out a major city? Do we see 

this as punishment, retribution for some Pagan sin? As an object 

lesson in the reality of climate change and global warming? As an 

overheated Goddess batting away some of the oil rigs contributing to 

her fever?


Of course, no one can speak for all Pagans; we have no official 

dogma. But here is my own answer, as a priestess, teacher, writer, 

and activist.


Pagan religions are not punishment systems. We don't worship Gods of 

retribution, but a Goddess—or Gods and Goddesses--of mystery, in many 

aspects. The Goddess has immense power, both creative and 

destructive: the power that pushes a root out from a tiny seed and 

sends its shoot reaching for the sky, the power of the earthquake and 

the volcano, the rain that feeds the crops and the hurricane. We 

respond to that power with awe, wonder, amazement and gratitude, not 

fear. 


The great powers of nature have an intelligence, a consciousness, 

albeit different in magnitude and kind from our own. Everything in 

nature is alive and speaking: the deep, crystalline intelligence of 

the rock heart of the planet, the fungal threads that link the roots 

of trees into the nerve-net of the forests, the chattering birds and 

the biochemistry of plants and mushrooms are all communicating. Our 

spiritual practice, the practice of magic, is about opening our eyes, 

ears and hearts to be able to hear, understand, and communicate back. 

And those powers want us to communicate with them. The Goddess is not 

omnipotent—-she is co-creative with human beings. She needs human 

help to create fertility and regeneration. The elements, the 

ancestors, the spirit beings that surround us want to work with us to 

protect and heal the earth, but they need our invitation.


Nature is also human nature. Our human intelligence, our particular, 

sharp-pointed ability to analyze, think, draw conclusions and act, 

our aesthetic/emotional capacity to thrill at a beautiful sunset, our 

deep bonds with those we love and our empathy and compassion for 

others, are all aspects of the Goddess Herself. Indeed, she evolved 

us complicated, contradictory big-brained creatures precisely to 

experience some of those aspects. Or to put it simply, she gave us 

brains and she expects us to use them.


As a Witch, as a priestess of the Goddess, I make daily time to 

meditate and listen, ideally in some place where I have direct 

contact with nature. I rarely use an indoor altar any more—instead I 

sit in the woods, or at least, in my garden, quiet my thoughts, open 

my eyes, look and listen. And what I've been hearing lately, in 

company with every other person I know who is in tune with the deep 

powers of the earth, is anguish, distress, deep rage, and dire 

warnings. The processes of environmental destruction, in particular, 

the overheating of the earth's climate, are already underway.


A few weeks ago, when we were preparing for the Free Activist Witch 

Camp that Reclaiming, our network of Witches, offered in Southern 

Oregon, I asked, "Is there any way to avert massive death and 

destruction." The answer I got was an unequivocal `no.'


"The process has gone too far," was the answer. The image that came 

to me was river rafting and shooting the rapids. There was a point 

where we as a species could have chosen a different river, or a 

different boat, or a different channel. But now we're in the chute. 

We can't turn back. We can't stop. 


There's a command in river rafting, used in extreme 

situations: "Paddle or die." If you paddle, you have some power—-not 

enough to change the flow of the river, but enough to steer a course 

and avoid crashing on the rocks. If you give up, the river will most 

likely flip your boat, and you will drown. 


When our Reclaiming group emerged from the woods, a little-reported 

item in the news media informed us that vast stretches of the tundra 

were melting in Siberia. If we were collectively using even a minimum 

of our human intelligence, this news should have been trumpeted on 

the front page with all the alarm of a terrorist attack, for it is 

far more dangerous. 


 


Global warming increases the intensity of storms. Turn up the fire 

under a pot of water, and the bubbles will be bigger, faster and 

stronger. Hurricanes draw their energy from the heat in seawater. The 

Gulf of Mexico is abnormally warm—-and hurricanes have doubled in 

average intensity in the last decade and a half. Hurricane Katrina 

was a natural phenomenon, but Katrina's progression from a Category 

Two up to a Category Five as she crossed the gulf was a human-caused 

phenomenon, a function of our choices and decisions, our failure to 

steer a different course.


The forms and names we put on Goddesses, Gods, and Powers help 

translate those forces into terms our human minds can grasp. And so 

the Yoruba-based traditions that originate in West Africa have given 

the name `Oya' to the whirlwind, the hurricane, to those great powers 

of sudden change and destruction. 


Santeria, candomble, lucumi, voudoun--all include Oya in some form as 

a major orisha, a Great Power. Offerings are made to her, ceremonies 

done in her behalf, priestesses dance themselves into trance 

possession so that she can communicate with directly with the human 

community.


No city in the United States has more practitioners of these 

traditions than New Orleans. On the night the hurricane was due to 

hit, I made a ritual with a small group of friends to support the 

spiritual efforts that I knew were being made by priestesses of Oya 

all over the country. We were in Crawford, Texas, at Camp Casey, 

where Gold Star mother Cindy Sheehan, whose son was killed in Iraq, 

camped near Bush's ranch to confront Bush with the painful reality of 

the deaths his policies have caused. 


Many of the supporters there were from New Orleans, worried about 

their homes, their friends and families. The overall culture of the 

camp was very Christian—-we found no natural opening for public Pagan 

ritual, although a number of people did indicate to me quietly that 

they were `one of us.' But our little group gathered by the roadside, 

cast a circle, chanted and prayed. 


We prayed, speaking personally in the way humans do: "Please, Mama, 

we know what a mess we've made, but if there is any way to mitigate 

the death and the destruction, to lessen it slightly, please do." 

That same night, Christians were praying and Orisha priestesses 

were `working' Oya, and the hurricane did shift its course, slightly, 

and lessened its force, down to a Category Four.


And New Orleans survived. Not without loss, and death, but without 

the massive flooding and destruction that was feared. We all breathed 

a sigh of relief.


And a day later, the levees failed, and the floods came. They failed 

not from an Act of Goddess, but from a lack of resources. The Bush 

Administration had systematically cut funding for flood control and 

for repairing and increasing the strength of the levees. The money 

went to Iraq. Much of the Louisiana National Guard was also in Iraq. 

FEMA, the Federal Agency responsible for responding to natural 

disasters, had been gutted, de-funded, refocused on terrorism, and 

its directorship given to a Bush political crony with no experience 

in disaster response. 


Now, weeks later, New Orleans remains under martial law. Official 

efforts at relief have ranged from inept to brutal, and the lack of 

planning and concern for human life, the punitive quality of the 

official response, seem deeply linked to prejudice and racism which 

devalues the lives of the poor, especially if they're black.


But ordinary people of all faiths have responded to this disaster 

with caring and compassion, with massive donations and relief 

efforts, and with shock and rage at a government which so completely 

fails to embody the values of human decency and respect for life that 

it claims to represent.


The Goddess does not punish us, but she also doesn't shield us from 

the logical consequences of our actions. Katrina's destructive power 

was a consequence of a human course that is contemptuous of nature. A 

Native American proverb says, "If we don't change our direction, 

we're going to wind up where we're headed." Katrina shows us a 

glimpse of that awful destination.


And she also shows us hope. We can change, and if we truly awaken to 

the need, maybe we will, before it is too late. The outpouring of 

concern and efforts to help, the hope, determination and vision of 

some of the citizens of New Orleans who remain, the grief we feel for 

the dead and the losses and the compassion that a huge tragedy evokes 

are the tools we need to set a different course, one that honors 

nature and human life, that uses our human intelligence to restore 

and regenerate the natural world, awakens our compassion, and kindles 

our passion for justice.


When we set a new course, all the powers of life and growth and 

regeneration will be flowing with us. And when we ally with those 

powers, miracles can happen.