Growing up, I never really connected with my Polish ancestry. My unwieldy last name, Swankowski, was a constant source of confusion and the occasional Polish joke from my Irish-American family. While my Irish roots boasted parades, shamrocks, and leprechauns, the Polish side of my heritage felt like a mysterious void – all I knew were a few obscure dishes my father hoarded for himself.
As I grew older and embraced my own unique quirks, I found myself drawn to the pagan traditions and spiritual practices of my Polish ancestry. It started with a dabbling in witchcraft, which led me down a rabbit hole of discovery. I uncovered a rich tapestry of Eastern European folklore, from the fearsome Baba Yaga to the ethereal Syrenka – the mermaid said to protect the city of Warsaw.
Delving deeper, I learned about the zawlanies – words of magical power in Polish witchcraft – and the znakharis, practitioners of folk magic specializing in herbalism, healing, and midwifery. These ancient traditions, so often overshadowed by the dominance of Catholicism, began to captivate me. I felt a growing sense of connection to my roots, a desire to reclaim the spiritual legacies that had eluded me for so long.
Embracing the Monstrous and the Mysterious
One of the figures that resonated most with me was Jezda, also known as Baba Yaga – the enigmatic Slavic crone who travels on a mortar and pestle. Rather than being deterred by her reputation for being “repulsive,” I embraced the power and mystique of this monstrous archetype. After all, as a queer individual, I too had been cast out of the zones of patriarchal approval. Reclaiming the power of the monstrous and the mysterious became a central part of my practice.
In my own writing, I chose to keep Jezda’s fearsome qualities, reveling in the delicious power of being unapologetically monstrous. This resonated deeply with me, as I sought to shatter the limiting narratives that had long defined my Polish heritage.
Reconnecting with Syrenka and the Warsaw Uprising
Another captivating figure from Polish mythology was Syrenka, the mermaid said to protect the city of Warsaw from her home in the River Vistula. Intrigued by this siren’s tale, I found myself drawn to the city of Warsaw, where I visited her statues and learned about the poet Krystyna Krahelska, who stood as the model for the riverside statue.
Krahelska’s story led me to the Warsaw Uprising, the largest anti-Nazi resistance movement during World War II. The bravery and resilience of the Polish people during this pivotal moment in history ignited a deep sense of pride within me. I learned that Krahelska’s poems had become the anthems of the fighters, and her own sacrifice as a martyr further cemented my connection to this remarkable legacy.
Building a Spiritual Practice Rooted in Tradition
As I delved deeper into the pagan traditions of my Polish ancestry, I began to integrate these practices into my own spiritual rituals. The burning of herbs, such as Lady’s Mantle (Polish) or Rosemary (French), became a regular part of my practice, infusing my spellwork with the energy of these ancient traditions.
Equally important was my discovery of the zawlanies – the words of magical power in Polish witchcraft. Incorporating these into my rituals allowed me to tap into the rich legacy of my ancestors, imbuing my practice with a sense of purpose and connection.
Like the writer Som Pourfarzaneh, I too have found myself navigating the intersections of multiple religious and spiritual identities. While the beliefs and practices of Buddhism and Islam may sometimes seem at odds, I’ve learned to embrace the fluid nature of my own multifaceted spirituality.
Just as Pourfarzaneh found a “disposition of devotion” that transcended the boundaries of his beliefs, I’ve discovered that the embodiment of my spiritual practice is what truly gives it meaning. Whether I’m kneeling in prayer, lifting my hands in supplication, or sitting in contemplative silence, it is the act of devotion itself that connects me to the divine, to my ancestors, and to the natural world around me.
Cultivating a Sense of Belonging
One of the most profound realizations I had during my exploration of Polish spirituality was the understanding that I am indigenous to somewhere. Before the arrival of Christianity, all lands held their own pagan traditions, and these enduring practices are still observed by those who seek to reclaim their ancestral roots.
As the Rabbi Jennifer Singer eloquently stated, “An impermanent spiritual home can become a holy space by virtue of the memories, intentions, and actions of the people who inhabit it.” It is not the physical structure that makes a sacred space, but the meaningful rituals, stories, and community that breathe life into it.
By connecting with the Jezda, Syrenka, and Krystyna Krahelska – the powerful figures of my Polish lineage – I have found a sense of belonging that transcends the physical. These ancestors, both real and mythical, have become the touchstones of my spiritual practice, guiding me with their courage, fury, and glamour.
Embracing the Multifaceted Nature of Spirituality
As I continue to navigate the rich tapestry of my multireligious identity, I’ve learned to embrace the fluidity and complexity of spiritual exploration. Just as the beliefs and practices of Buddhism and Islam can coexist and complement each other, so too can the traditions of my Polish and Irish heritage.
The key, as I’ve discovered, is to focus on the disposition of devotion – the embodiment of our spiritual practices, rather than the rigid adherence to specific dogmas or beliefs. By approaching my spirituality with an open mind and a willingness to learn, I’ve been able to weave together the diverse strands of my heritage, creating a tapestry that is both deeply personal and universally resonant.
So, whether you’re drawn to the mystique of Baba Yaga, the ethereal grace of Syrenka, or the courageous spirit of Krystyna Krahelska, I invite you to explore the enchanting world of Polish spiritual traditions. Let these ancient legacies inspire you to uncover your own indigenous roots, and to cultivate a sense of belonging that transcends the boundaries of culture and belief.
And remember, as you embark on this journey of self-discovery, the true power lies not in the buildings or the objects, but in the memories, intentions, and actions that breathe life into your spiritual home. So, light your candles, run your fingers over your mala beads, and let the wisdom of your ancestors guide you towards a deeper sense of connection and belonging.
