So I just came back from a split with Lilith recently.
Another blogger I follow recently went back to Druidism after a stint of attempting staunch logical atheism.
A Christian friend of mine recently renewed her own faith after a bitter spat with God.
Why do we bother turning around and going back? We were determined to really leave! We split from either a core element of our faith, or from the faith entirely, putting distance between us and this thing that has helped us, protected us, and guided us in hours of need. We rebuffed in some way our faith’s attempts to reconnect, to mend the divide. Why?
I used to think I was really leaving. “This time, I’m really leaving for real! See me walking out on you! See? I’m REALLY DOING IT THIS TIME. GOODBYE.” Eh. Give it time. If you watch the ebb and flow of my entries here, I always come back to Lilith. There’s a certain “hook” she has, definitely, that she uses in a manner befitting only the finest Domme, but it’s bigger than that. I was actually pretty happy without her in my life. I wasn’t exactly mourning the fact she was missing. Yet a crisis emerged in my life. Depression threatened to take me wholly and utterly to a place I knew I’d been before and only barely survived. My oath compelled me back in a time of crisis, but more than the oath, she compelled me back without ever saying a word.
Once we get a taste of the magic of the divine, we can never replace it. Nothing will ever fill that hole in our souls the way it needs to be: you can hammer plywood over a hole, but that’s not the same as filling it.
But I wasn’t trying to fill the hole or even cover it up– that’s just something I told myself to suit my mood at the time. In truth, I’d become angry with Lilith, and the root of that anger was nothing she did. It was my forgetting why I loved and followed her. I was angry because she didn’t permit me to have total control. Well to be fair, that was never exactly her M.O.
But when I had total control, I spun around and made a right mess of things. I forgot her lessons. I forgot the “poise” she’d taught me. It wasn’t until I’d spent some time away that I realized how much I actually appreciated her influence in my life.
I think that’s why we tend to take breathers. It allows us space and time to think and ponder, to look at the big picture and realize why we do the silly little spiritual things we do. With that space, we gain a new understanding, because sometimes the absence of a thing can be more informative than the presence of that thing. And we need reminding. We will forget again. And again. And again. To forget is entirely a human thing. When all your faith becomes facts, figures, ritual, and routine, you may need a breather to “feel it” again.
And if your gods are worthy of the title, they’ll be there for you when you’ve blown off your steam, cooled down, and examined yourself. Gods are not fair weather friends. They’ll still be there when you come back.
Always, and forever.
Gods guide you.