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So I've been doing a lot of spiritual thrashing again.
Subtitle: On Jackals and Falcons
It doesn't help that Netjer seems to be incredibly skilled at deflecting direct questions. I swear, every single one of the netjeru I talk to tends to avoid questions, dodge them, or answer the question slightly to the left and rotated eighty degrees.
After writing a bunch of stuff last night about this process, I was afflicted with extreme self-doubt. Am I doing the right thing? Is this other stuff that I'm adding to what Set told me I needed to do to have a functional relationship with Him part of what Set intended me to do, or am I wandering off on a ta--(okay, now I get an answer to that one, sort of: "Do you think I know you so little to not expect you to mutate, child?"). Which doesn't answer whether I'm wandering off on a tangent, though it does tell me that whatever tangents I wander on are within the encompassing of expectation. Terrific. (See what I mean?)
So I cast my thoughts towards Set and I asked Him if I was doing what He wanted, if this other stuff was really His goal all along.
And I got the Wepwawet Answering Service. You know, 'I'm sorry, the God of Transformational Chaos can't come to your prayer at the moment. I'll be happy to take a message for Him.'
What Wepwawet said to me was, "I have always been here, and you have always trusted me."
"I have always been here" was the first thing He said to me, when I first realised He was there. Bloody Vorlon jackals. And what He meant -- we've hashed this out before -- is that I have always trusted Him to open my way before me, and He always has, and all of this doubt in His doors is just another doorway. (That's the revelation I get now that I'm trying to write this down.)
I dumped my doubts on Him. I shouted at Him a bit, vented my frustration, complained about not knowing where I was going or what I was getting into.
He let me shout.
Then He said, "You are not Heru's child. Yours is not to see the Way."
I shut the fuck up.
Underlayered in that -- I'm translating here out of the mish-mash of sensations and things I got here, and this doesn't go tidily into the English -- was the sense of knowing the ways in the bones that comes of the lie of the land, the intensity of familiarity with the passage, and the effort of cutting across the landscape myself. And the knowledge that sight is not the sense that I'm supposed to be worrying about; not being able to see the way is irrelevant.
"Learn all your senses." I don't know if that's Him or me just now.
The other thing that I got is that the way opens with every step; every breath into the future a doorway. Knowing the way to its fullest extent is knowing the choice of every moment, making each opening an aware one. I can't fit this into my head -- it's like a glimpse of a corner of sia. It cycles back to mindfulness, a quality I need to cultivate, though; I can try working on that.
Not Heru's child. Other senses than sight. . .
Subtitle: On Jackals and Falcons
It doesn't help that Netjer seems to be incredibly skilled at deflecting direct questions. I swear, every single one of the netjeru I talk to tends to avoid questions, dodge them, or answer the question slightly to the left and rotated eighty degrees.
After writing a bunch of stuff last night about this process, I was afflicted with extreme self-doubt. Am I doing the right thing? Is this other stuff that I'm adding to what Set told me I needed to do to have a functional relationship with Him part of what Set intended me to do, or am I wandering off on a ta--(okay, now I get an answer to that one, sort of: "Do you think I know you so little to not expect you to mutate, child?"). Which doesn't answer whether I'm wandering off on a tangent, though it does tell me that whatever tangents I wander on are within the encompassing of expectation. Terrific. (See what I mean?)
So I cast my thoughts towards Set and I asked Him if I was doing what He wanted, if this other stuff was really His goal all along.
And I got the Wepwawet Answering Service. You know, 'I'm sorry, the God of Transformational Chaos can't come to your prayer at the moment. I'll be happy to take a message for Him.'
What Wepwawet said to me was, "I have always been here, and you have always trusted me."
"I have always been here" was the first thing He said to me, when I first realised He was there. Bloody Vorlon jackals. And what He meant -- we've hashed this out before -- is that I have always trusted Him to open my way before me, and He always has, and all of this doubt in His doors is just another doorway. (That's the revelation I get now that I'm trying to write this down.)
I dumped my doubts on Him. I shouted at Him a bit, vented my frustration, complained about not knowing where I was going or what I was getting into.
He let me shout.
Then He said, "You are not Heru's child. Yours is not to see the Way."
I shut the fuck up.
Underlayered in that -- I'm translating here out of the mish-mash of sensations and things I got here, and this doesn't go tidily into the English -- was the sense of knowing the ways in the bones that comes of the lie of the land, the intensity of familiarity with the passage, and the effort of cutting across the landscape myself. And the knowledge that sight is not the sense that I'm supposed to be worrying about; not being able to see the way is irrelevant.
"Learn all your senses." I don't know if that's Him or me just now.
The other thing that I got is that the way opens with every step; every breath into the future a doorway. Knowing the way to its fullest extent is knowing the choice of every moment, making each opening an aware one. I can't fit this into my head -- it's like a glimpse of a corner of sia. It cycles back to mindfulness, a quality I need to cultivate, though; I can try working on that.
Not Heru's child. Other senses than sight. . .
