qos: (Light Song)
Monday during lunch I finally started reading Evolutionary Witchcraft by T Thorn Coyle (aka [livejournal.com profile] yezida), someone I learned about from [livejournal.com profile] queenofhalves. It's been a very long time since I've identified as a witch, but [livejournal.com profile] queenofhalves's accounts of the focus on personal growth and development, and her own experiences with it, have impressed me. And, frankly, I've been looking for a spark to inspire me.

I certainly got what I was looking for. The Introduction alone, an account of Thorn's spiritual questing, heartened me. She has found a place now, and made it her own through depth work and bringing her own sensibilities to it, but for more than 20 years she was a wanderer, looking for "it" in a variety of traditions as she herself grew and matured.

Like me, she does not cast a circle for ritual work, she casts a sphere. I enjoyed reading her process, but when I got to the poem she uses to seal the sphere I felt resistance. The words were nice, but they certainly were not words with which I resonated.

Then it hit me: I didn't have to use her words. They were an example. I can use my own. In fact, the whole ritual she presented was for instruction and inspiration. I could take what I needed and leave the rest, and it would be okay.

For a Queen of Swords, who likes to know what is correct so I can be right, this is a huge step in maturity and confidence.

After I was finished reading, I put the book down, rested my elbows on the counter, clasped my hands, and put my forehead on my knuckles. And I reached out.

I guess I'm actually past being surprised when the response comes quickly. But this time there was an uncharacteristic chiding in the Voice: Why do you search when all your life I have been closer than your breath?

As always, the Voice was right on. . .  )

The Void

Nov. 6th, 2003 07:44 am
qos: (Bear Wind)
I'm hijacking my own Comment in response to a Friend's friends-only post, because the topic, the Void, is one which has been of significant impact in my life.

My Friend wrote (among other things)
i was half asleep and the void opened up in front of me.

To which I responded:

This is the first time I've 'heard' someone else describe a sensation that was all too familiar to me during my sophomore year of college, after I had an existential crisis which knocked me out of Christian faith of my childhood and started me down a very long road of spiritual quest. I would be fine all day -- but every night after I was in bed I would feel the Void opening up all around me: awareness of my own mortality, a belief in the non-existence of God, in the inevitability of suffering, in the absence of order or justice or meaning. . . and terrible, terrible loneliness.

After a year or so of this, I realized that if I was not able to come to terms with it, I would eventually commit suicide, because it would just be too painful and too pointless to go on. I never reached that point, but I could see it out in the distance.

Eventually I came to a new understanding of the Divine, one that would have been impossible without having looked into the Void and being shattered by its vastness. The God of my childhood had been big, but never *that* big. And I was never again able to believe any one human person or institution could claim to know the Name of God, or be God's only voice in the world. Nothing large enough to encompass the Void could ever fit neatly into a single human faith.

I still experience "Void attacks" from time to time, but now I try to find the blessing in them, and to remember Matthew Fox's assertion: "The void is simply the concave surface whose convex is cosmos." (Original Blessing, p. 153) I still get scared, but now I have a different kind of faith to help me through.
Page generated Aug. 10th, 2025 01:04 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios