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23 May 2012

days of remembrance

I follow a somewhat heathen-ish path. That is, if I had to pick one of the many pagan labels to apply to myself - which I don't, but for the sake of argument, I will - it would be Heathen. Ish.

Once upon a time, I looked into following the Heathen path, officially. There's much to be said for that path in how it intersects with my internal spirituality and chosen mores. In the end, I chose to go my own way regardless of all the various 'official' spiritualities and their intersections. But that's neither here nor there. 

One of the aspects of Heathenism which has made its way into my personal practice is the observation of days of remembrance. At first, I tested the idea of observing the common days of remembrance - such as that of Rey Radbod, who (story has it) resisted early Christian missionaries, telling them he would rather burn in hell with his ancestors than go to heaven with the missionaries. Surely, if the story's true, he deserved a day of remembrance. ...but the thing is, I felt no connection to him. And because I practice this aspect of my faith on my own, it didn't make much sense to observe a holiday to which I felt no connection. So I decided to come up with my own days of remembrance. 

The ideas weren't overflowing. As time goes by, I accumulate more things to remember - most of them bittersweet at best. The first Official Bones' Day of Remembrance was for Naanaa, my cat who died in my arms, on 21 March 2010. I still can't even think of him without hurting. The next two - which are perhaps ironic - observe the deaths of my sister and my grandmother. Ironic, because they are less painful than the death of my Naanaa, and because they happened earlier but became something I observe, later. Recently, I've decided to add one more day: a day for myself. 

There are other annual events which are more positive - the celebration of my anniversary with Archer, and my anniversary with my coven (which indicates my growth in that area, too, since I'm still so new to the coven). 

I think it's important for me to take a day to recognize the difference in who I am now, and who I was before I came to terms with my past. There's probably a resemblance here, between me and a recovering addict, marking the days our lives changed for the better. In fact, that's probably a more apt analogy than I care to dissect right now. Regardless, I haven't decided what day that should be, yet. How does one decide these things, when there isn't necessarily an exact date which can be easily identified? This transition has been a journey, and it isn't over yet. Perhaps I need to wait until I feel it's completed to select a day. I feel that day might turn out to be the day I tell my mother what I experienced as a child; I feel, for now, as though that might be the last hurdle between me and the rest of my life. 

Time will tell, I suppose. 

Time will tell, as it always has, and as it always reminds us. 


  1. Anonymous19:28

    The courts are a poor source of spiritual peace.
    On its face, the legal route is a fruitless and damaging path for every single person involved.

    Their crude hammers can give you no justice, no healing.

    The truth, as much as can be resurrected, is your key tool. It gives you the problem set, unblurred by suspicions about memory, guilt about possible complicities, even passive ones.

    You are trying to resolve this horrible infection. A counter-virus holds no hope for a disease free soul.

    Truth, knowledge, abandonment of doubt, absolution of guilt, clarity of fact (within the limits of biased memory and shame) a genuine cleansing forgiveness--for all, him, you- if thats even relevant, and your Mom, from each other, from , most importantly each of your separate selves in yourselves.

    These things were done, initiated upon the impish ignorant impulses of an innocent child. Continued into adolescence on the back of fear guilt, confusion, shame, on your part and testosterone fueled, burgeoning, selfish, irresponsible and hungry libido on his no doubt.

    It is a righting of this ship of facts and feelings, getting the chairs off the ceiling, getting things back to their reality places that makes for a way home. The simple facts.
    Kids fuck each other if they get enough time alone, the right triggering cues and key mental promptings, usually from corrupt or careless adults, that cue deeper drives but are tottally uncomprehended by the sexually activated child.

    The psychological aftermath, the damage. THat stuff comes as much from outside "non-culpable" actors as the perpetrators themselves. See...the little girl that cried "Ewwww!" when you confided in her, triggering your first primal shame and guilt.

    Should she be investigated? WHo owns which parts of the damage?

    It started, between you and he, as a kind of car accident. a collision of unknowing actors, with disaterous results. His molesters, if indeed there were some, might have cut the brtake lines long before things started, but...who knows? SOmething happened suerely, but was it kids telling kids things overheard, inappropriately witnessed and repeated?

    No excuses here, for anyone.

    But my point is that clarity, and forgiveness are the only keys to peace of soul.

    Crime and punishment are, about a war of harms, each seeking to find its righteous target, each unmindful of the pain they do, so committed to their ends they are. No healing comes from these kinds of wars of attrittion. Only more pain.

    You have to find a way to understand that you are not rotted by this at all. Nothing vile was ever in you. You are as pure in yourself, and always have been, in your true self, as when I see you first thing in the morning, shining untroubled, with not darkness in your mind, only love in your heart, the gentlest, most loving being on this earth. She is you. She has always been you, all your life.

    1. Archer, (though I suspect you meant this to be a comment on my next post, "judicious") You humble me. The words I have in response aren't enough, but I'll say them anyway: Thank you.