8/3/2006
I can understand the frustration people feel when they come to a message board or email list and ask what seems to them a straightforward question, only to be given a great runaround in place of an answer. As one who has been on both sides of that fence, the dance just looks ridiculous to me, because I know that oftentimes what the people being questioned are trying so hard to conceal are things that are in fact no secret at all–knowledge that exists and is accessible, if only one knows where to look. The new person doesn’t yet know where to look; they haven’t yet ferreted out the source materials, as it were, nor read any of the scholarship available. Then they go off and start asking questions of those whom they expect will have the information and share it freely–hey, we live in the Information Age, right?–and are disappointed and irritated when neither the information nor the holders thereof are forthcoming.
Why do the questioned ones behave as they do? For some, it is perhaps the belief that the illusion must be maintained, and that to cast a light of scrutiny on a cherished tradition might diminish it somehow. Then there are those who do truly believe the illusion is real, and cannot admit to other possibilities. Some may feel that their oaths prevent them discussing source materials and the possible origins of certain beliefs or practices. Others are, unfortunately, liars who delight in deception. I’m sure there are other reasons as well, as many reasons as there are people; I won’t presume to say that I could ever know for certain exactly what drives another, not entirely. I can only make guesses as to motivations, based upon over a decade’s observances.
As for the questioners, sometimes I think they maybe have had access to information, and are simply looking for someone “on the inside” to confirm their suspicions: why yes, so-and-so DID make that up! I don’t blame them; unassuaged curiosity is a painful thing, and even more painful is having fifteen sources that attest to the sky being blue, and your own eyes telling you that the sky is blue, and still being told by those from whom you seek spiritual sustenance that the sky is in fact orange. (That’s not my best analogy, but work with me here.) I’d like to be the one to offer solace in the form of confirmation, but I can’t–not because of any oaths I’ve taken (I’ve never personally interpreted any oath I’ve taken to mean that I must dishonour myself by lying about crap that anyone can Google up in 30 seconds or less), but because there would always be a doubt in the recipient’s mind, thanks to the old trick of calling the dispensers of information “either an oathbreaker or a liar.” Actually, one could reveal nearly everything without being either, or at least I believe that to be possible. But why should I take on that fight? If someone asks me a question, and I have the answer, I will provide it or not as I see fit. I no longer feel a great compulsion to be the answer-girl in defiance of the dogmatists and cultic minded, though the whole thing does still irk me and I suppose always will. It’s just so alien to my way of thinking and being, and it just seems so ridiculous and pointless. Once the cats are out of the bag, and they’ve had kittens, and the kittens have had kittens, it’s kind of absurd to try to pretend that there were never any cats in the first place.