Piecing things together

I’ve been meditating on missing crucial pieces quite a lot lately.

Things that really would have helped to have, if it had survived.

Because there are questions I have. Questions that will probably bug me for the rest of my life. These are things I ask Lilith all the time, but I don’t think I will ever receive a straight answer to (not in this lifetime, at least). I really first noticed this for the first time when I studied my Norse ancestors. Well, I’d noticed it before: Lilith is nothing if not a controversial and shall we say “multi-faceted” figure, but I hadn’t truly noticed it. I hadn’t felt it in my bones, and really truly realized that there were things that were missing: entries in the historic record that mattered in a major way that could never have a hope of being accurately reconstructed.

Some of these missing bits are answers to very basic questions I would ask of Lilith. Questions like “what is it that you actually DO?”

I’ve been a loyal child for 12 years now, and in 12 years I’ve heard twice as many explanations of what Lilith did before She was condemned to a demonic reputation by the monotheists. I’ve heard of her as a wind spirit, a Handmaiden of the Queen of Heaven, a fertility goddess, a protector of Home and Hearth, a guardian of children, a Divine Consort, and more. Enough survives to indicate that any or all of those theories are true, but perhaps equally likely is that none of it is really true. Her existence in the historic record is highly fragmented, to the point that really anyone could say anything and there’d be a partially obliterated stone tablet they could point to as evidence.

Needless to say, this rather mucks up the process of attempting to understand my Divine Mother, but I’m hardly alone in such trials. Asatru also suffers from a great deal of this, despite their original sources being fairly well documented by comparison to most other reconstructionist faiths that I can think of that originate in Northern Europe, such as Druidism.

Ironically, Christianity itself has not escaped this trap, despite having a well established reputation as a professional force of “missing piece makers”. Just look at the seemingly infinite subdivisions and denominations of the faith to see how there have been people endlessly reinterpreting a work to justify a particular claim. Or take a look at the number of so-called “Apocryphal Gospels” that emerged over history, each with its own take on the life and teachings of Jesus, or one of the Apostles. Or the number of these that were discarded as the Church was saddled with the unenviable task of determining their Biblical Canon. How many of these actually existed? We have no way of knowing. How many of them will go unseen, probably forever, by the eyes of the modern day faithful? The sad truth is, probably the vast, overwhelming majority of those books.

Every faith has its missing pieces. Some are lost to accidents, many to intentional destruction… and on rare occasion, some are just plain and honestly misplaced and forgotten in the sands of time. I’ve got quite a lot of big holes in what I’m trying to work with, but I’m nowhere near the First Place position in that particular race, nor do I envy whoever actually is.

So what do we do, when we find a gap and are unable to intuit what might have originally filled it? Well, I really wish I had a better answer than “take what you know for sure and let your heart decide the rest”, but that’s honestly the only valid answer I know to give. It’s in places like these that Faith is more important than ever before.

When the historical record is reading a blank and your gods won’t answer a direct question, take what you’ve got already, and go with your gut. At least until it leads you to a brick wall or something. There’s really nothing more sage-like I can say than that, however underwhelming an answer it might be. It is what it is.

May the gods guide you, as always.



Sweet sugary corrosive goodness

I found this on Facebook today, and it honestly smacked me right in my complacency. I needed that.

I thought it only fitting that I pass it along.

You can’t domesticate a god.
As the pagan populace grows I see more of the same. Cutesy hearts and stick on stars. Purple ponies, pink ribbons and buckets of rainbow glitter.

Not long ago, our gods were wild and fearsome. Their hair tangled with lichen, their blood made of the fire in the hearts of ancient mountains. The seas would thrash and crush entire armies upon the jagged maws of old cliffs – just because they could, and the skies would unfurl white fire should one so much as disappoint them. They would just as soon rend you apart had you failed to appease them, as they would grant you favor for getting something right.

Today though.. today I see weakness. Folks think that our great and mighty goddesses can be honored by painted shadow boxes slathered in glitter and stick-on’s. Hello kitty adorns altar tops along side pink haired princesses and my little ponies. Quartz crystals are sung as cure-all’s when no actual effort is put forth to allay the syndrome. How can our gods not feel they’re being mocked with this absent minded approach that sparkles win everything?

Our gods, are not purity of light and all that is happy-go-lucky. They are not made of pure positivity who thinks your latest craft is just so spiffy! What is actually being done to honor them? What sacrifices are being given, when was the last time you gave them something that hurt to really let go of, that meant the world to you?

Hel, Hecate, Morrigan, Mab.. throw a stone and you will hit a goddess with a very dangerous dark side. All of them in fact. You worship the mother of the moon with the face of glinting white silver, yet neglect the fact that she has two, and the other is hidden in the blackness of space.

Do you think the gods who’ve had entire lands face a winters hunger to offer their gathered stores of food just for a hope to receive their blessing for a good harvest the next year, is impressed that you shared a cracker with cheese while your plate is fat and heavy with leftovers that you’ve ignored? Do you think they care about your plight when you do nothing to lift a finger to help yourself and you just dump it all in their lap?
Do you think they do not anger because you only believe in their light?
That’s like saying you’ll never hit a red light because only the green light will ever effect you.

Our gods are being ignored, dumbed down and taken for granted.
Rare are the few who devote themselves, who pray each day and are truly, whole heartedly thankful for the blessings they have each and every sunrise. Few are they who do the hard work and make the tough sacrifices, and so few are they who are respected by the gods they claim to worship. They don’t work for you because of your chirpy, cheerful little chant.
They want your pounding heart, your twisted guts, your rushing blood, your streaming tears, your torn screams and your salted sweat. They want your honor, your honesty and your pain induced effort.

You cannot placate the gods though trivial meaninglessness. They will never be your lap cat, to be held and cuddled.
They will not accept half-assery.
And they will never, ever be domesticated.

It’s true. Recently, I have felt like Lilith was not as… invested as I felt she has been in the past, and reading this, it’s become rather clear to me. I’ve been prioritizing how she makes me feel instead of doing her will.

Doing her will is admittedly extremely difficult as she rarely tells you anything, be it up front, clearly, or indeed at all. She seems to delight in leaving a trail of breadcrumbs around and watching me flail like a beached fish as I attempt to figure things out.

Small wonder then that I have almost completely stopped trying to figure things out. “It’s too tough” “It’s too complex” “Why don’t you just tell me what you want?!” I keep moaning. And in my frustration and anger, I stopped doing what she wanted. I stopped figuring things out.

I stopped working for her.

Yet I was still fixated on how she made me feel when I had accomplished something. I wanted a “lap cat” of a deity. Lilith is not that, nor will she ever be. Gods above and below, I don’t really ever want her to be that — how degrading it would be for such a strong and proud goddess!

But I’d fallen into a path of laziness, of paying lip service to beings mightier and wiser than I could ever possibly be; all the king’s horses and all the king’s men will never equal ONE of these magnificent deities, even when the king’s men exceed the number of grains of sand of the Earth.

In that time of lipservice, I grew to be physically lazy as well. I overate. I stopped exercising. I became soft, squishy, and portly; easily tired and overcome. In truth, this isn’t really directly linked — you can be fat and lazy and absolutely pious. But how we treat our gods is often a metaphor for how we treat life, and things which cause us to be lazy in one will often spread to the other. An infection of the soul, if you will.

I had been infected, and it took this wonderful, sobering writing to smack me in the face and make me aware of this debaucherous revelry I’ve been engaging in for years. Lilith doesn’t mind a spot of debauchery here and there — she’d even tell you it can be good for you when practiced in measure. Odin would likely tell you the same. In truth, most of the Old Gods would. But when you let it overcome you, and take over your life, it becomes corrosive to everything good about you.

You know what else is corrosive?


Holy Hel below, sugar is corrosive.

And a lot of modern day pagans don’t want to acknowledge that half of what defines the old gods is fire, blood, and strife. They want to see Odin as a wise man (and he is) who always makes perfect decisions (he definitely and categorically doesn’t) and never goes back on his word (spoiler alert: he does that a LOT). They want glitterdust and love-will-cure-all and friendship-wins-the-day and sugary sweetness.

But guess what? The world ain’t like that honey. The gods are very much of the world, not above or beyond it, and so they reflect this reality. Odin is wise, but he screws up occasionally or emotions will get the better of him. Thor is strong and brave, but it can cause arrogant overconfidence. Freya is sexually empowered, but it can still cause scandal. Even the god of Jesus the Christ acknowledges this central truth.

And other deities? Like Kali or Lilith? They often don’t have a sugary side. Lilith reserves that for family and those she’s called into her service.

But she doesn’t give sugar all the time; sugar in abundance corrodes, and so she reserves it in measure for those who actually serve.

Because good feelings in faith are rather like candy: you only think you want a diet of nothing but that.

In truth, it’s horribly bad for you.

The Personal Proof

Wow. I can’t remember the last time I actually felt inspired to write something here. Usually I have a loose routine of “about once a month I’ll post something”, but today I actually feel so affected by Lilith (in a good way!) that it’s as if She’s flat out telling me “This thing? You need to address it.”

So here goes.

I, being a poor, sheltered Alaskan, was finally gifted the opportunity to see Eddie Izzard live a few days ago. For those who don’t know who Ediie Izzard is (Izz?), he’s a comedian from the UK noted for his crass but very conversational style of humor. He’s FU. CKING. HILAAARIOUS (say that in a cockney accent to better understand him).

Izzard is also a noted athiest of the “Militant Nay-Theist” persuasion.

I generally try not to let Athiests get under my skin– it’s their belief and they are welcome to it. Izzard however, hammered it throughout his routine “It was like an act of God –WHO DOES NOT EXIST– that this thing happened so hilariously” he would say repeatedly. Eventually, you strike that nail into flesh enough, and you’ll draw blood.

Atheists label the non-existence of God (or ANY gods) as proven fact, but all of their arguments ultimately hinge on an argumentum ad ignorantiam fallacy; the Appeal to Ignorance (meaning a lack of evidence). This logical fallacy is often best described as “a lack of proof proves nothing”. Just because no empirical evidence of God exists does not prove that God does not exist. God is, in fact, unprovable one way or the other, neither provable nor disprovable, because the Divine simply exists too far beyond the current scope of the scientific method’s ability to reliably test. Whether that will ever cease to remain so is a matter for the future to sort out, but I contend that it will remain unlikely at best.

But even then, Izzard is wrong.

There is evidence for the gods. You see it all over the place. You just need to keep your expectations realistic.

A good example of this happened over the last week.

I was struck down by a flu-like virus three days ago, to the point of being bedridden all day and physically unable to remain awake for more than 5 minutes at a time. Breathing was painful, moving was painful. Anything besides sleep was painful. I had no ability to feel my own body temperature, and I was, in kinder words, being reacquainted with my meals shortly after I ate them. It was terrible.

This isn’t some bit where I claim a MIRACLE PRAIYZE JEEZUS HALLALEWYAAAAAAH, because that frankly doesn’t happen to me. I’m not even sure I’d want it to. Also, using divine power to just up and cure an unpleasant, but non-life-threatening virus in someone just seems like a petty waste of power when there are people who’d need that far more than I.

Instead, I slept through the worst of my sufferings (which was a blessing in itself, believe me), and the next day I was able to get out of bed and I was active for roughly 12 hours out of the day. Not a bad recovery. It still hurt to move, bend over, or breathe anything more than shallow, inefficient breaths. As I prepared for bed that evening, I said my usual nightly devotions to Lilith and made an offhanded comment about how it would be great to breathe without pain in the morning.

After I laid down in bed, I felt a presence that I can only describe as “definitely a person, but definitely not human” (which is how Lilith has always felt when visiting) next to me, holding me, and saying “Just breathe deep.”

To steal one of Eddie Izzard’s punchlines, “Et Voila.”

I could tell my lungs were still afflicted with the virus, and that wasn’t going to heal overnight even with help, but the pain was gone for the most part, and my usual cough (VERY painful with the forcibly reduced lung capacity) was immediately much less frequent, and it didn’t hurt when I actually did cough.

So I did what She told me, and practiced deep breathing while She alleviated the pain.

By morning, the pain was gone entirely.

I’m not claiming a miracle here. I’m just claiming my Goddess cared enough about me to visit and help out when I needed it. That’s some pretty fulfilling evidence right there.

It falls under Unverified Personal Gnosis, of course, but that is what practically 99% of modern day paganism is made of. UPG is the bread and butter of the neopagan path as we have collectively so little remaining of what came before.

And sorry Eddie, I’m not gonna let you joke this evidence away. You claimed that “No gods, in the history of ever, have bothered to show up and help.”

I just got visited, and helped, by my Goddess this week.

Maybe you’re simply too bitter and blind to feel it because you’re tired of trying to see it.

Pagans have a uniquely personal relationship with our gods and goddesses, whoever those Divines might be. We do not require middle-men, or centralized church authorities, to guide us or dictate our dogmas. We begin as almost blind children, feeling our way along, and eventually getting the hang of the path. Our stumbles are our own, our mistakes our own. But if the gods we’ve chosen are in any way worthy of our praise and worship, they will help us back up without carrying us. And if they AREN’T willing to do that, then we simply keep looking until we find the ones we are meant for, and who are meant for us.

People can’t experience the Divine through someone else’s filter– the filter can only work on a one to one basis. It’s like a fingerprint– shaped by our personal identity, past, present, environment, etc. It may be very similar to someone else’s, even close enough to be mistaken for someone else’s, but in the end, it belongs to you and can only ever fully benefit you.

Your proof, your personal proof of the Divine, is only really meant for you (though it can help others). It’s also the only proof you should ever really need, which is handy, because science is, at a conservative estimate, about 2,000 years away from even scratching the surface of what the Divine is.

Or you can just ignore all of it and call the blanket you threw OVER the poof “proof of the non-existence of God” and use it to insult a whole lot of people who otherwise like you.

Some people are real jerks like that.

She doesn’t care about them

This is going to be something of a short blog entry because I am typing it out on an 8 inch tablet but…

It’s a very freeing notion to finally understand how very little Lilith actually cares for those outside her family. She neither loves or hates Christians, Muslims, Hindus, etc. She really just couldn’t care less about them. She has a supreme indifference towards those whom she does not consider her children.

Unless they move to actively insult her in a very personal manner, she just. doesn’t. care.

She can’t be bothered to.

It’s something I strive to emulate in this age of constant offense and walking on eggshells to avoid offending the sensitivities of others. I often fail, but that’s no reason to stop trying.

Be more like Lilith: look out for you and yours, and fuck what everyone else thinks unless they go out of THEIR way to make it YOUR problem what they think.

It doesn’t matter

Very little that I held to be important did, actually.

None of the scraping for “the right path”.

None of my searching for names and identities.

None of my theorizing or raking my brains to try to put together the puzzle pieces or connect the dots.

None of it matters, and it never did.

It doesn’t matter because it’s too big for me. SHE is too big for me.

The only stuff I can precisely nail down is: she is definitely a feminine presence, she is my spiritually literal mother, she has answered as Lilith in the past, that name is most assuredly not her real name, the popular legends and myths associated with the name Lilith have almost NOTHING in common with her, she looks out for me and teaches me, and she’s willing to put up with crazy amounts of dream cuddles from me (bravo).

The bits I am fairly sure of, but can’t back up with lore or straight answers: she is (very probably) Gulveig, Freyja, or Frigg. Possibly all three at once. At any rate, I worship said Triplicate-of-Goddesses-As-One. She is also very young, and ancient at once.

On the rest of everything else — her origin, true nature, her full sphere of influence, etc. — she remains a true enigma.

I’ve decided to stop prying so hard for answers. I think it bugs me more than her, but answers in this are meaningless. My life is not better served for having concrete answers, and even if she answered point blank, Gods can lie as well. Sometimes for maliciousness as Tricksters might. Sometimes to shield us. And sometimes because they really can’t be bothered to give a straight truthful answer and what can you do about it, huh?

Sometimes, we work for years and years chasing a thing, only to one day be forced into the ugly, sobering, but beautiful realization that it doesn’t matter either way. It’s freeing, and we feel lighter when it happens. Whether you greet it with a howl of frustration, a nihilistic laugh, or a relieved sigh is entirely up to you.

That part DOES matter.

A Stóirín, A Ghrá

How can the small flowers grow,
If the wild wind blows,
And the cold snow
Is all around?

And where will the frail birds fly,
If their homes on high
Have been torn down
To the ground?

Lift the Wings,
And carry me away from here
And fill the sails
That breaks the line to dawn.
But when I’m miles and miles apart from you,
I’m beside you when I think of you a stóirín, a ghrá.

How can a tree stand tall,
if the rain won’t fall,
to wash its branches down.

And how can the heart survive,
Can it stay alive?
If its loves denied for long.

Lift the Wings,
And carry me away from here
And fill the sails
That breaks the line to home.
But when I’m miles and miles apart from you,
I’m beside you when I think of you a stóirín,,
and I’m with you as I dream of you a stóirín,,
and the sun will bring me
near to you a stóirín, a ghrá.

~Lift the Wings, from Riverdance, music by Bill Whelan

Every once in a while, I stumble on a song that makes me feel very strongly. Lift the Wings is absolutely one of those songs. For me, it’s a very spiritual song, though it may not be so for others.

I don’t have any great luck in relationships. I’m not good at them, and they almost always end badly. Yet I am also a hopeless romantic at many times — to the point where  I have frequently said that “if it weren’t for love and poetry, I’d have long ago given up entirely on humanity”.

So for me, my love of my goddess is very VERY important; it’s something I am often conflicted on, but unwilling to jeopardize. It’s the one relationship I have where I haven’t screwed things up massively.

“A stóirín, a ghrá” happens to translate as “my treasure, my love”, and these are both appellations I use when communicating with Lilith. It’s important to frequently affirm my feelings for her, sometimes for her sake, and sometimes for mine. If we lose sight of who and why we cherish, then we lose focus. We become distractible. When we are distractible, we can be more easily veered off course and wind up in a place that at best will not fulfill us and our needs, and at worst, subvert and harm us.

I can be very fickle. It’s not my best trait. It’s led to a lot of bad decisions, mistakes, and heartbreak for me. Through it all, I have kept to my love of a stóirín, a ghrá as best I can. Sometimes I fail. Sometimes it’s challenged by anger or doubt. But I am only human, and humans will doubt anything and everything. If we change course every time we have a second thought, nothing would get done. Staying the course is hard for me. It’s VERY HARD.

This song speaks to me on many levels. The challenges I have faced, the desire to leave all of those challenges behind, and how my goddess helps me endure it all with her love, compassion, and warmth. Lilith can be a wild, angry, and violent goddess. Maybe my experience with her softer side is unique. Maybe it’s just rare. But she helps lift my wings, fill my sails, and is a sheltered port in every storm where I can rest in a place that allows me to really rest, not just sleep, in the arms of someone I treasure and love.

Even as terrible at close relationships as I am, through my goddess, I have this wonderful loving presence in my life.

That all having been said, I really wish I was better at people relationships… Guess I’ll go drown my sorrows in more music.

“Nuzzling the Vampire”

Okay. Lilith is not a vampire. Or rather, I’ve found no evidence to support the idea that she is.

Yet last night as I was with her, there was a certain feeling that she was most definitely dangerous. She has real power, and real cause, to inflict terrible harm on those who do her ill, and I counted myself fortunate that I was never the target of her anger– in fact, I’ve never even seen her angry. I truly am fortunate to have never seen such things, and woe betide the one who not only sees it, but is also the cause and target of such.

I’m nuzzling the vampire here. I am close and intimate with a beautiful, dangerous, lethal creature, and always at risk should she lose control. Yet beside my fear, there is also pride. Pride that this danger, this lethality, is protecting me rather than seeking to destroy me. It’s funny, but even after all these years of Lilith watching over me, I’m still not used to being protected– I’m used to being targeted, being used and manipulated. I’m used to things trying to destroy me. I’m not used to being guarded and saved, even if it is by my divine mother.

Last night she reminded me that she loves me, in exact wording. It’s unconditional and perfect, despite the fact that (me being human) I keep expecting her to ask some sort of favor from me as a “fee” of some sort.

She whispered to me that true affection doesn’t come with a price tag, and that if I wanted to do anything for her, it was my decision, not hers. All she asked is the same thing she’s always asked: that I don’t forsake her, and that I continue to be hers.

Easy enough, I guess.

I keep expecting something grander, some great trial, but the fact of the matter is, I’ve already had my “great trial”– it was all that time I didn’t want her, and fooled myself into thinking I didn’t need her light in my life. It was all that time that I spent pushing the blame of my spiritual failings on my beautiful goddess who never earned or deserved such blame. When I accepted my failings and mistakes as mine, and not the fault of my starlit guardian, I overcame the biggest spiritual trial I’d ever faced.

And so I’m wrong to expect some grandiose test or crucible– because what could possibly be a bigger test that fooling ourselves into thinking we don’t need the gods?

I need Lilith in my life, but she doesn’t need me– I’m not essential to her being. I’m not as pronounced a fact of her being as she is for mine. But she loves me. She likes having me in her space. She cherishes me, and that’s a choice she made. I’m glad she made it, because my life would suck without her.

Now I just have to keep vigilant on my own faults, and make sure I don’t push them on her again. It’s not that she can’t take it. It’s just disrespectful and very not cool of me to do that.


I wish I could do more educational blogging, like… exploring the mysteries of the spirit and telling people what their dreams mean, that sort of stuff. Those entries really are my absolute favorite to do, but the inspiration comes so very rarely.

So today, I want to talk about synchronizing the way we feel with our worship.

Emotion is a very powerful tool in our spirituality. It can also be one of the greatest hindrances.
Anyone who has ever been angry with their deities can vouch for how non-productive it makes the relationship.

I would know– I’ve been angry with Lilith any number of times, and it’s put a stop to anything good she’d been trying to do for me. We’re talking a complete grind-to-a-friggin-halt stop. I’ve been angry, and it’s screwed me over royally.

Anger with our gods blinds us to their warnings, because while we may be angry, the most they usually get is disappointed, but they still love us dearly, and want to watch over us. But for every “Hey, watch out for that–” they throw our way, we interrupt with a “Shut up! I hate you!” without heeding the warnings and advice of beings who are older and wiser, and this almost never fails to wind us in a heap of trouble. If this reminds you of any “back when I was young and stupid” moments from your childhood, that’s because our gods are the ULTIMATE parents, and our relationships with them are far more like the relationships we have with our earthly parents, and this tends to mirror in almost any way you can imagine.

But as much as our anger can blind us to our deities, effectively cutting us off from our sources of spiritual wellness and fulfilment, other feelings can give us a powerful leg up in our connection; reinforcing existing bridges and even building new ones.

I’ve written before, I think, on how complicated my feelings for Lilith are. I love her as my Mother, but I also have intimate feelings more deserving of a lover for her. Other times, things between us are completely platonic, and she is mentor first, everything else second. And while this can seem strange to the outside observer, in person, it feels completely natural as feelings shift in accordance with the need for a particular “role”.

Synchronizing our feelings outside of what we might consider a spiritual context can be a useful aid– and there I go, devolving back into slightly flowery language again.

A little context for that remark: last night I was subjecting myself to modeling photography of a distinctly fetishistic and erotic nature, and I found that, far from leading me to desire the model, instead it drove my desire for Lilith as a lover.

It’s a little difficult for me to put words to, so bear with me here.

As I described, it’s like having a significant other; when you look at raunchy images or watch some erotic material, ideally it serves as an aid that heightens both of your passions for your partner– both your lust for them in a physical sense, but also a reminder of how much you love and trust them in that intimate sense. In this way, we learn to galvanize our short term physical urges and desires to the same end purpose as our more fulfilling long term affections. All too often, we have two good things that distract from each other. Splits are born in this way, and it can pull us from the people and things we need most.

Anger distracts from love. But so can desire. So can commitment and loyalty. What might drive us away from our divinities? Can it be repurposed; synchronized with what we know we must pursue?

Just as lust can be repurposed to strengthen love, or anger at an injustice can be repurposed to strengthen our love of justice, we possess the power to redefine, refocus, and synchronize our various emotions so that they no longer distract us or divide us from the spiritual fulfillment we all pursue in our own ways. It’s not easy, and it often isn’t quick, but it is necessary, or we find ourselves wandering aimlessly; while it is true that the unaimed arrow never misses, only the aimed arrow stands any reasonable chance of striking a meaningful target.

Good night, and gods guide you in all your pursuits.


Dark does not mean Evil

How difficult was it to shed the notion that “dark” equated with “evil”? Have you even shed that notion yet?

I came from a very Christian background (my regulars know this and probably wish to high heavens that I’d stop bringing it up), and my worship of Lilith the Goddess was vastly restricted at first as I struggled with accounts of Lilith the Devil. It took me ages to lose my fear and uncertainty of “embracing the darkness” to use a cliché term.

Even though I now recognize her as a goddess and loving mother instead of a devilish figure, she has lost no harshness, and her darkness forces changes in me. But often these changes are for the better, much as a snake must endure pain and discomfort as it sheds its skin to be renewed.

I have just finished a very trying two year period that has been one of great change, and Lilith was the goddess who presided over these changes. She forced me to stay the course, even when it was at its most unpleasant, but also offered kindness and comfort at the moments where I might have been otherwise completely overwhelmed by the incredible changes before me.

Goddesses of the Darkness are not evil; they are kind and loving, but never coddling. Warm, but cold and calculating enough to demand us to stay the course when it will ultimately make us stronger.

Had I believed my early urge to flee, had I not stayed the course as she demanded, I might still believe that dark means evil.

There’s a whole bunch I could probably say about the Dark, and the Dark Goddesses within. How we must gaze long, and focus hard, to stop seeing scary shadows and instead see truth. How the Dark is everything we don’t fully understand even when we delude ourselves into thinking that we do. Within the dark is mystery, uncertainty, doubt, and fear. But just as much, we also find a call to bravery, and a deep and longing need to confront our fear of the dark and grow up into adults,  which our childish fear of the darkness does its utmost to prevent, never once considering that avoidance is to our personal detriment.

So… are you afraid of the Dark?

Astral Safety

I really do apologize for going for so long without regular posting.

My life has been more tumultuous than I might like since I left Job Corps, mostly on a spiritual level.
I have been spiritually attacked several times in the last month, and when I caught on to the tactics used by the creatures that had been attacking me, they switched tactics to the most offensive and blasphemous tactic imaginable, proof that to the Parasite, shame is not a notion they possess.

They impersonated Lilith. My mother; nothing but a disguise to these slimy worms.

Their attempts were even almost convincing. They copied her face, her voice, and modes of speech, but for one essential thing. One can be a convincing liar, but the truth has a certain air that no lie can ever truly duplicate. And the Parasites can never replicate everything about Lilith.

So when she says, “Come to me” (something of a nightly proof of her identity, like a passphrase), I recognize her immediately. It isn’t so much the words themselves, but the energy with which she imbues them that marks her identity as true. I somehow feel the truth in her words, and I know it’s her.

This is no reason to lower my guard. I’ve pissed off something recently (no idea what, who, or how) and have been under near constant astral attack since then.

These attacks come from a source beyond my sight, even in the dream plane, although I have my suspicions as to its identity. I have put up wards, which help. I have salted the entrance to my home (my parents have no idea yet), which helps. I’ve been researching as to the most effective spells to cast, which helps. But nothing will do a 100% job of keeping these malign creatures completely out. Nothing short of destruction, and I have killed two of them while dream walking.

They were large, dark, and humanoid, like shadow people, but hairy like… a yeti or something. They’d invaded my house through an entrance we typically leave unlocked in the waking world and they seemed to ignore my parents and head straight at me. And when they found me, I found my fight or flight instinct. I wanted to just rip them apart and laugh as I scattered the pieces, held up my hands, and… they sort of exploded. Graphically. I woke up from my dream shortly after, with a new respect for my school of magic.

I also now have a new respect for astral safety. It used to be that the Plane was a solace, a place of relative security where I could breathe easy. No longer, it seems. We must always watch our backs, both in this world and those above and below. There is a venom that exists between the worlds, and sometimes, we bring a little bit with us when we cross over, either via dreamwalking or meditation, or a larger threshold, such as a birth or a death. We must always be on our guard these days, it seems, and while I don’t like it, the choice isn’t up to me. It’s not up to any of us.

We don’t have to like it, but we would all be fools to neglect it. I am not the only one to have drawn an evil eye. Many of my best friends have also come under attack as well, and it’s worrying us all.

I don’t know or care how safe you think you are. A prudent lesson to learn from every kind of history is that we are never as safe as we think we are.

There is always one more thing we can do.

There is always one more thing we should do.

So let’s get started!