Mirth and Reverence

The Green Phallus
I (Melanie) love penises. 
I have worn a penis necklace often for decades:
I have worked to keep penises intact. 
I love Anaïs Nins story of a woman who loved penises so much that she pretends to faint during a Scottish parade so as to get a better view. 
And yet, I am uncomfortable with the adventures of “green phallus”.
When I first saw the green phallus at a festival, I loved it. It embodied so many things I love: fiber arts, amigurami, penises.
But as time traveled on, I began to feel uncomfortable with green phallus. Or rather, the way it was being treated. Paraded around like a joke. People openly performing sexual acts upon it. Now, you all know that I am bawdy. But in public space, with children present, at 10 in the morning? Even my strong stomach turned. What if this were a vulva? Vulvas are fun. They are sexy. They are sacred. 
But can you imagine a toy vulva being licked, worn, fucked, etc, at a morning meeting?  It might be upsetting!
Chris also feels very conflicted about the adventures of the Green Phallus.  On one hoof, he loves the humor, and holds humor as a sacred thing. He enjoys the light-hearted play around the Green Phallus adventures.  We don’t want to offend anyone, many of whom we love and respect, who have been having such a good time with it.  
 So, we are offering the following in the spirit of balance, and not criticism; to be viewed in addition to the fun, not instead of the fun. 

Our ancestors have employed the symbol of the phallus in their worship for millennia:
Ithyphallic deities are present in many pagan cultures:
Frey, King of Pleasure, Plenty, and Peace:
The God Pole, axis mundi of the God Pole Rite, and site of a beautiful hand fasting at Pagan Spirit Gathering 2011:

So we are torn. Are we being (gulp) puritanical? Do we need to loosen up? Or perhaps green phallus needs to be treated a little more respectfully? What do you think?

Men of the Solstice, Arise!

I served as the godsman for the Men’s Rite at Pagan Spirit Gathering this year.  I decided to reprise the very successful God Pole Rite from last year, designed by my friend and teacher, Bruner Soderberg. The men who attended gathered at the top of the hill, in front of the Temple of the Sun God.  We passed around a few drinks, and chatted jovially while waiting for other men to arrive.  Then the horn blew, and the men shouldered the god pole (an eight foot tall, six-inch thick carved wooden phallus) and processed down the hill, singing that wonderful song from last year’s rite:

Giver of pleasure and life,
giver of pleasure and life,
we praise thee,
Giver of pleasure and life,
giver of pleasure and life,
we praise thee
Father, brother, friend and lover,
father, brother, friend and lover…

As we sang and walked, men took turns holding the God Pole during the procession.  As we entered the area that was to be blessed as a shrine for men, we crowded around the hole that awaited the planting of the God Pole.  The God Pole was carried in the last stretch and planted by the new men as part of their man-making rite.  The shouts and cheers and embraces of love and support given to those young men was a moment I will always hold dear.  The horn blew, milk was poured, words of praise were sung to Horn, the red god, the lord of all beasts (us included).  The men mobbed around the pole, laying hands on the pole or on the shoulder of a brother as we shouted “Io Phalle, Io Phalle, Io Phalle, Evoe!”  We pelted the pole with seeds (seed-bearers that we are) as a final blessing.  The rite ended with every man laying blessings and advice upon the new men, who finished their vigil that night at the God Pole Shrine.
My thanks to Steven Posch and Bruner Soderberg for teaching me rite craft.  Thanks to all those men who attended the rite.  Thanks and praise to the Giver of Pleasure and Life.