Vroom vroom!

Going red.

Perfect Makes Practice

Rustling leaves
lets me know You are here,
watching me with green eyes
smiling that secret smile

hearing the rush of a river,
consonants and vowels displayed
in the intricate lattice-work of pebbles
strewn across my path

Green is the color of Your body
the inside of a tree is mine.
I see Your beauty in every
living thing, in every possible way.

The love I feel
is only the beginning
for so long, I have ignored Your calling
now I return

Will I be welcomed with a loving embrace?
My heart tells me I will, for
You are the Goddess
You are my Mother.

New Moon: The Original

The new moon is tomorrow, and so is a new dawn. I started this blog with the concept of zep tepi in mind, the idea that every moment is the First Time, and that we have the power to be the authors of our lives. We are responsible for our own creation, for without conscious thought and will, we are in danger of becoming steel grey robots who have red, blue and green buttons (press blue to eat, red to sleep). I still believe in the concept of zep tepi, but I have begun to discard what I used to do with zep tepi, which was to categorize it, and use it only in reference to specific myths, themes or meanings related to Egypt. I still hold a dear place in my heart for Egypt, and Egyptian religion, for it has taught me many things about myself, but it is not really my path anymore. I am a seeker, one who must always search, no matter how far or how strange the journey, for if I do not follow my heart, then I will not be content. I do not know why the gods of Ancient Egypt have stopped calling to me, or if it is only through my own negligence, but that particular door to the Divine has been abruptly stopped by the doorman who knows what I want better than I do. This was not meant to be a confession post, but a post that firmly states my intention to remain true to my heart and my spirit, wherever they may take me upon my spiritual journey. The new moon is calling to me, it beckons of rebirth and renewing my spirit, to walk in the woods and feel the earth, the sun, the wind. Spring is here, and I am being reborn.

Time for a Change

I would like to address some things here:

1) The title and subtitle change of this blog; I know that this blog isn't actually read by a lot of other people than myself, but I would like to clarify (even for my own peace of monkey-mind) the reason for the change of title. This is connected with Topic #2 but very quickly I will say that the phrase "uncharted waters" kind of grabbed me, and it wouldn't let go.

2) I still consider myself a Shemsu of the Kemetic Orthodox faith, but I am definitely straying from the easy-to-define spirituality that I used to practice. There will be a longer post on this later, but it is sufficient to say that while I still remain faithful to my Parents, my concept of deity and my beliefs has changed quite a bit.

Spiderweb Glass

the feeling I get
when frosted breath glances
off the that piece of cardboard
you mistake for a heart

shatters at the moment
the carrot is cut in half
no more neat, round circles
with neat, round ways

the following is growing, secretly
in my heart. The last to know
is my brain
when the shrine is gone,

replaced by books,
earth, air, fire, water
when the calender changes yet again
reflecting the last shards of piercing sunset

the heat is gone, the passion has ebbed
the dying embers mourn
for the love they knew
death is colored grey

And hands reach out, drawing a picture in the ashes.

Crisis of Faith

To keep things short, for three days I went through what is fondly termed a "dark night of the soul". It happened after a four day convalescence due to a sinus infection. I had not prayed, performed Senut or drawn any Faerie Oracle cards, which are all vital to my spiritual practice. I suddenly felt lost, incomplete. Yes, I believed in Egyptian deities, and They were there for me--but weren't They just a part of the One, the Divine Power? Since this is true, why was I labeling myself and the way I interacted with Spirit? I took my statues off my shrine, and placed them on a bookshelf. I didn't pray, or even sit in shrine at all. Yesterday morning I prayed to God/Netjer/Divine Power, and asked for a sign, so that I would know if God was still with me. During swim practice, I saw a pure white egret flying in the sky, a clear reminder of Who I belong to. I kept swimming, and started to doubt. What if it wasn't really meant for me, what if it was a random bird flying overhead and I happened to look up at the right moment? After I finished a 200, I saw the egret again. This bird was a physical reminder of my faith, of the tattoo on my hip, of the times I've spent blissfully in prayer, and felt truly happy. My Mother and my Father are there for me, always. No matter what name I call God, They are there for me. They love me. It was this truth that pulled me out of my downward spiral of confusion and fear. Last night, I lit incense for my Parents, and honored Them through writing.

I have rededicated myself.

Along with this rededication, I have realized something about myself. I can read something on the Internet, hear it from a Reverend, see it reflected in the faces of my fellow religionists, but I need to breathe my beliefs, eat my beliefs, live my beliefs. My crisis of faith happened because I had spent so much time immersing myself in the day to day practice of them that I never really stopped to think about what they mean to me personally, how they affect my character. So my soul or my subconscious (y'know, the part that decided I was going to have a crisis of faith) tore down my beliefs and made me reevaluate them and pick them apart until I decided that these are beliefs I can [i] live [/i]. In determining my faith, I have also had a chance to look at my diet. I follow ma'at, I live with compassion and love, but can I really say this when I am part of national, even world-wide amnesia? Animals beings to be treated with respect and love, and I cannot do that when consuming them for breakfast. Because of this, I am now following a vegan diet. It is difficult teaching myself to look at the ingredients labels, to think about where my food came from before how good it tastes. But I am trying. And I will succeed. If I am going to live my beliefs, it follows that my diet is a part of my beliefs. I am not being vegan so that I am a healthier human being, it is a resolution to live my faith in all aspects of my life.

I am a Shemsu of the Kemetic Orthodox faith.
I am vegan.

See? It wasn't that hard.

The Mechanics of Faith

Religion isn't something that can be easily described, and sometimes miracles happen which can only be taken as leaps of faith. I have no idea why I am spiritually inclined, why I pray and offer things to deity. Lately I have been experiencing moments of pure contentment, because things are working out slowly but surely in my life. Yet....where does Netjer play into that?

Yes, we pray. And sometimes our prayers are answered and life is cupcakes with pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles. Sometimes they are not, and we have to practice something not often talked about: forgiving deity. We must accept that said deity did not want to/could not (whichever view of deity you ascribe to) answer your prayer, and that you must move on. My point is not to wonder how the prayer gets answered, how do we know if it really is god. My point in writing this (scrambled and stream of thought) post is to meditate is this: How do we know that our deities are really there?

Answered prayers are often seen as signs that deity is present.

Unexpected fortunate events can be taken this way.

A raised salary, a new job, a new boyfriend can impress upon a person that deity is making it rain gold on that person's specific head.

But when you are sitting in front of your shrine and looking at the images of your deities, when you part your lips to pray, how do you know They are listening?