Skip to main content

Goodbye to Patheos Pagan Channel


The Quick Version

This will be our last post for the Patheos Pagan channel.

We’ll keep writing, and you will always find us at Quakerpagan.org. Our archives will appear both here and also at Patheos, as is customary for their bloggers who leave that site. (We will not be transferring comments, so if you are looking for an old discussion after one of our posts, you will find it there.)

For Those Who Want to Know: Why We Are Leaving

Like a number of other Pagan bloggers, my husband and I were not happy with the most recent contract we Patheos offered us.

petercatcbishActually, I haven’t been happy with the overall direction I’ve seen here for some time–not because of the content of the Pagan blogs here, which I continue to enjoy, but because there’s an increasing push to monetize our writing.  And while there’s nothing wrong with that in and of itself, but I’m not sure that’s how my writing works–at least here on this blog.

The strapline at Quaker Pagan Reflections has long been “Blogging in a Spirit of Worship,” and that doesn’t make for an easy fit with formulas for increasing traffic.  When I write what I think this blog is for, I’m not writing according to a strategy, and I’m not even writing what I think: I’m writing what has risen up for me out of my relationship with Spirit.

I don’t mean to say that those who write at greater volume or with a publishing strategy in mind are not writing in a way that’s spiritually honest or real.  Nor do I think it is unfair that a for-profit company emphasizes a strategy that helps them to keep the lights on.  Rather, I think it would be somewhat dishonest of me to stay with Patheos without changing how I approach writing this blog… something I don’t really want to do.

I am also concerned with the fact that Patheos has recently removed posts by John Halstead and Pat Mosley, and by the increased editorial privileges Patheos assumes under the new contract, focusing on limiting criticism of the company and on the use of profanity.

While I doubt very much my writing will be affected by Patheos’ new owners more assertive approach to editing our work,  I have been associated in the past with blogging platforms that have removed (or–worse–altered) the posts of writers.  I didn’t like it, and I left those platforms, too.
It’s reasonable for a company to take a strong interest in not having its writers undermine its public reputation. But the values of Patheos’s owners and my Pagan and Quaker values are not necessarily the same, and I find myself uneasy to be writing in a venue where the contract could be used to enforce values I don’t share.
 
The time has come to take Quaker Pagan Reflections either to another, Pagan-owned platform, or back to flying solo.

Wherever we go, I expect to continue to read many of the voices here I learned to love.  And I hope our readers will continue to seek us out, too.

Thank You

Finally, I’d like to give my thanks to my editors Jason Mankey (and before him, to Christine Hoff Kraemer) and to the wonderful technical staff here at Patheos, including Hillary Spragg, who has been helpful over and over again during our the three years with this website.

I would also like to thank the many past and present writers here at Patheos’ Pagan channel whose words have fired me up, inspired me, delighted me, and made me think.  Special love to John Beckett, Sara Amis,  Sable Aradia, Annika MonganYvonne Aburrow, Sarah Sadie, David Dashifen Kees, and John Halstead.

It has been a privilege building Paganism alongside you.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Confronting Racism, Yankee Pagan Style

I am a Yankee.  Right down to my Pagan soul.

My understanding of what it means to be a Pagan is to try to live in right relationship with the gods, the land, and the people, including the ancestors.  My gods are those that are comfortable in New England’s woods and hills.  My land is this rocky landscape of New England.  And my people and my ancestors–on Mom’s side, at least–are New Englanders: sea captains and dairy farmers, teachers and laborers.  Whatever granite is in this place or in my ancestors lives on in me and in my Pagan practice.


And that granite is why I am so driven to speak out against racism.
To help me explain what I mean, I’m going to go ahead and borrow an ancestor: my friend Kirk White‘s father.
A Yankee like a Rock Kirk’s ancestors, like mine, were among the first Englishmen to arrive in North America.  Like mine, this landscape was where they found their home.  And like me, my friend Kirk and his family before him has loved New England–Vermont in his c…

Bears Eat My Lettuce

I love where I live;  since moving to our new home four years ago, I've been able to build a relationship with a piece of land for the first time since I was a child.  It's everything a dirt-worshipping Pagan could ask for.  I have a garden, and I grow much of my own food, and that is as much a spiritual delight as a taste treat.  And I have woods again as neighbors: glacial boulders, white pines and black birches, owls and white-tailed deer.

And bears.

And the bears eat my lettuce.



I'm not kidding about that.  Oh, it's winter now, and the bears are huddled up in their dens.  But this past spring, I grew lettuce.  Award winning, gorgeous lettuce: three different kinds!  They were nourished to extraordinary size and succulence by the cool, wet weather we had, and each night, I would gather just a few outer leaves, knowing that careful tending would mean tasty salads for months.

And then, over the course of three days, the bears ate every single one of my lettuce plants…

The Saturday Farm

I love Saturdays.

I have come to think of the work that I do on Saturdays as "farming."  Now, I know it isn't farming--not really.  We have a medium-sized vegetable garden and two dogs, and that's not a farm, by any stretch of the imagination. 

But I keep thinking of a comment Joel Salatin made in Yes Magazine once, about how Americans have become used to thinking of our homes as centers of consumption, but how once, thinking of your home as a center of production (typically, a farm, for most of us for most of our history) was the norm.

And between trying to live with less plastic junk and trying to eat more sustainably and locally, Saturdays at home have become very productive days.  And that productivity--the willingness to substitute patience, skill, and thrift for consumption--I've come to think of as a species of farming.  (My apologies to actual farmers, whose work I increasingly appreciate.  But thinking in this way works for me, somehow.)

First thing this…