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Of the old Gods

I have blogged about religion many times before. I struggle as many do to find some sort of meaning within this world. I bounce back and forth between paganism, atheism, agnosticism, thelema, etc. For years I have not been happy with my views of religion. I miss the old Gods. I remember when I first transitioned from Christianity to Wicca (and then the broad term of paganism) and it was a hard thing to go through. However, once I settled into the swing of things, excepting the Gods and Goddesses, it was the most wonderful feeling. I felt like I was a part of something far older then myself, something far older then Christianity. Yes, I know Wicca is new, and the Gods/Goddesses that I know are new compared to their old world counterparts, but as I drift among this strange world, losing my inspiration for everything, it is the old Gods that I miss the most.

I used to have a real connection, whether it be imagined or not, it was a 'connection.' Call it a connection to divinity, nature, myself - I don't know - but it was a wonderful feeling of being bigger then my body. Something all encompassing and grand. This body could not hold me and I spilled out into the world beyond, talking to beings who should not, could not exist.

Did they talk back? If they did it was in a way I might not have understood at the time, but they were as much a part of me as I was of them. It didn't matter what anybody else thought. They did exist. They existed in my mind and my heart.

But I drifted, much like I always do. Part of me has died with them. That creative part of me that felt so alive, yet so tortured in High School. I wish I could find her again. I miss her like you wouldn't believe. That deep and dark fire that burned so brightly is gone, extinguished by the rains of time. I find Rhiannon galloping away on her dark horse into the underworld and, like Pwyll, I am calling with all of my heart for her to come back. Where did that person go that once was inside me? Did she slink away with Persephone only to come back one day in full glory? Or is she gone for good? Withered away into nothingness, a memory of old inspirations and desires?

My bane in High School was finding a confidant - someone to love. I spend time alone, drawing, silently waiting for that man to come and whisk me away. I remember hiding away in bathroom stalls during freshman and sophomore year to draw and to be away from everyone. My mind was always in the clouds and far away from any form of reality. On a rainy, cloudy day I was almost convinced that something was going to happen, that something truly wonderful and adventurous was going to happen. That dragon was going to appear outside my front door to tell me I was needed in some far off kingdom I had never heard of.

That never happened. Obviously.

I did find that man though, and I love him with all of my heart, but I have learned now, that there is a part of me that will always be searching. Not for a husband, or a lover - no - that was my need at the time -- but for something bigger and grander. Not a job, not a million dollars, but something otherworldly, something so outside the realm of modern thought that it can never be understood.

I used to write. Part of this world would break through onto paper - spill like pomegranate seeds soaking the pages with my own blood, sweat and tears. Those days are gone though and that world is so far from my grasp, and yet so close I can almost taste it. It KILLS me! I'd almost rather be knee deep in that heart-felt depression, because then I could at least feel something. This form of depression I have now is just . . . nothingness. No desire, no fire. Just boredom -- wandering through a life of shadow. I am The Hollow Men.

I wish I could trade this depression of nothing with a depression of fire I can not extinguish.

Loneliness will always be the disease eating away at my soul. I have always felt different, and always will.

The Gods were the one thing that I felt understood who and what I was, yet I have even lost track of them. They have become nothing more then archetypes of nature and a non-existent but glorious idea.

And yet, as I type this out - I can almost feel them again. What does this mean? Do they not exist or have I shut them out of my life like a jaded daughter?

I want to run away, I've always wanted to run away. How does one fight the feeling that they were never meant to exist as they do now?

I want to run and run and run until I feel that burn in my legs forever. I want to disappear in the mountains and live like a hermit in a small hut. I want to make friends with the Froudian faeries and dance with Pan under the full moon. I want to hear the soft prints of his hooves as they sink into the earth and smell the sweet scent of incense as Brigid sits making dolls out of corn.

Alas, this is not reality and it kills me inside. It hurts so bad to have a world living in your gut, mind and heart and to know that you must put a foot forward everyday in a reality that wasn't meant for you. To go to work, cook dinner, exist.

I still touch the glass on mirrors hoping one day my hand will pass through and take me somewhere else.

Maybe one day it will.


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
May. 27th, 2008 07:59 am (UTC)
Disconnection happens. It sucks, but there's always hope. You can reconnect. Or be forcefully reconnected, for that matter.

I definitely understand about the being "different" thing. Even in my current clique of uber-geeks, I'm the odd one. I am also fairly certain that I'm really a princess from a fairy tale. At least, I act like it most of the time. I believe fairy tales are true, or at least the lessons one can learn from them are valid.

On a side note (to go with one of my previous statements), I've been a bit disconnected myself as of late, but I have a feeling Someone is trying to attract my attention. I keep seeing pairs of Ravens where ever I go. Not one, not flocks, just two. Also, odd dreams that I can't quite remember on waking.

I've always felt a connection to Raven. I've got a Heida depiction of Him bringing the sun tattooed on my shoulder. Morrigan's tapped me before... The only One I know of associated with a pair of Ravens is Odin. But I don't think it's Him. And as religions go, I'm much more interested in the Celtic side of things and First Nation religions than the Norse way of thinking.

At least I'm fairly certain it's not the Morrigan again. That was a fun life changing experience that began with a house fire.

Things to research, dreams to attempt to remember.

[editing for more appropriate icon]

Edited at 2008-05-27 07:59 am (UTC)
May. 28th, 2008 09:12 pm (UTC)
Do you think maybe the Raven's could be somebody like Rhiannon? I know she is associate with birds (mainly horses, but birds as well) and she usually is at the boundry of the under/otherworld and reality.

Just a thought.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )



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