Month: June 2016

Diana, the Huntress

I’ve never been an artist in the traditional sense. I don’t have an eye for color, shape or space. I love words, though. And cooking. And I enjoy music, though I was rejected from my church’s children’s choir if that gives you a hint about my talent.

For the last two years I cut myself off from a lot of things. I had the perma-excuse of grad school, and a new, more-than-full-time career to boot. I stopped creating, other than in short bursts. I stopped cooking more than the easy, routine meals. I stopped writing nearly altogether in any form other than journaling, and even that was sparse. What little energy I had after work and work and study and work was left to sleeping, my partner(s) and my pets. My practice struggled as well, but it was a crutch in the best possible sense; I can see that already. I wouldn’t have survived without it.

I promised myself a guitar for graduation. And when I graduated (I did!) I bought a pretty little black acoustic baby. I named her Diana, because she’s a Huntress and that has significance for me on many levels. I’m not good at it. At all. And I have no idea why I thought I should have a guitar or what business I have playing one, but I bought her and I’m learning slowly. I’m terrible at it, a complete novice.

I love it. The pain in my fingers reminds me of the pain in my lower back after sitting at my altar for too long. I pick her up just to poke and make noise the same way how some days I just sit at my altar and poke around until I end up doing something. My insistence on practicing the same poorly executed chords and notes is nearly identical to the way I practice visualizations and chants and the rituals of my tradition, starting and re-starting, hesitant but sincere.

I’m starting to understand the connection between artists and the religious.

 

Not a circle, but a spiral

Over two years ago I was beginning a devotional path to the She Wolf. She was scaring me, loving me, inspiring me to push and fight and make myself uncomfortable. I found a program that would check off all of the near-future goals I’d had for a while: I’d be prepared to become a teacher, and I’d be enrolled in an accelerated Masters program without incurring debt, and I’d have a full time job with benefits.

I didn’t think I’d be able to do it though. It would bring me to NYC, a place I never wanted to live or work, and only very few applicants were accepted anyway. I don’t think I would have even completed the application without my daily devotionals that kept me focused and a fraction less fearful. During my first Wolf Moon rite, I prayed for this, I howled for it.

And I got in.

Over the last 2 years my life changed completely. Nearly weekly I threatened to give up, because, damn. I moved to New York, fell in love with a bunch of kids in the Bronx, and wrung myself out between a full time teaching position, full MA course load, and trying to be a person. My practice became more intense, almost concentrated into the little time I could truly devote to it. I found a teacher, and my commitment to a new tradition has simultaneously stretched me thinner while giving me the strength to push through the last few months.

I’m supposed to graduate today. I had no intention of attending the ceremony, but I’m not actually certain that I have graduated because of issues within the school. I took the day off to celebrate, but I’m not sure if I’m jumping the gun. I’m in this liminal space between working and completion, culmination and celebration, work and rest.

I hate it. But I know that it is sacred.

Two years after dedicating myself to the Wolf, I can look back and see what She’s really taught me and how I’ve really grown. I prayed to Her two years ago and I promised to follow through if She would help me onto the path. I’ve come to know sacrifice and faith and dedication. I’ve come to know Her through myself, and myself through Her. This was my cleansing fire, my diamond pressure, my priestess training.

I’m using this middle space today to reflect and consider the best way to do a rite of gratitude for her. I won’t be attending a graduation ceremony, but I’ll be holding my own, with Her, once I know for sure that I’m done. And even then I won’t be done, I’ll just be moving onto the next phase.