12.21.09
Posted in Ten Days of Joy at 8:34 pm by Shefyt
The piercing pang of resolution. The kindling of renewal on the shortest day of the year. The sweet, brilliant light of clarity. Today’s joy is an instant of seeing things as they are, of seeing what needs to be done, of seeing all the places where I’ve fallen short and yet feeling no despair, no anger at myself — just the surety that I can do better, that the way is standing open before me, and I have only to gather myself and step forward, into that growing light.
Dua Netjer! Dua Bast! Nekhtet!
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Posted in Festivals, Ten Days of Joy at 12:51 pm by Shefyt
I spent the weekend hosting a Bast festival get-together for the House of Netjer’s Northeast region, so I wasn’t able to post for a couple of days. Time to catch up….
Day 4: The joy of sitting in the darkened shrine room with my brothers and sisters in the faith, talking quietly together about our gods and our religion, the golden glow of the candles that we’ve lit flickering across the face of the icon as She watches over us, while outside the world is perfectly silent, muffled by the swiftly falling snow.
Day 5: The joy of waking up to the aftermath of a perfect snowstorm: just enough light, powdery snow to be a significant fall but not a paralyzing one, easy to shovel and quick to clear the roads for people to travel home; a breathtakingly blue sky; the beautiful glitter of flakes blowing in white cascades from the pine trees (even though they’re cold and wet down the back of the neck! But there’s joy and laughter in that too.)
Dua Netjer! Dua Bast! Nekhtet!
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12.18.09
Posted in Ten Days of Joy at 6:43 pm by Shefyt
Today’s joy is stillness after constant motion: sitting on the couch with a cat and the computer, a candle burning nearby, resting now, with the whole house cleaned and tidied. Now there’s just the waiting for the guests to arrive, the hush of preparation awaiting its fulfillment, the quiet anticipation of the celebration ahead.
Dua Netjer! Dua Bast! Nekhtet!
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12.17.09
Posted in Ten Days of Joy at 4:18 pm by Shefyt
Today’s joy was two-fold, relating to preparations for this weekend’s festival: the feeling of clearing out old magazines that have been collecting for months, lightening the burden of clutter and letting me breathe more freely; and the discovery that it is, in fact, extremely easy to make your own candies with chocolate molds. Now I’ll have chocolate cats and udjat eyes to share with my guests!
Dua Bast! Dua Netjer! Nekhtet!
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12.16.09
Posted in Stalking Beauty, Ten Days of Joy, Thoughts and Reflections at 10:38 pm by Shefyt
[From today, the new moon, through the Feast of Bast Guards the Two Lands on December 25, I'll be doing posts for Ten Days of Joy. This was an exercise for the Shemsu and Remetj of the House of Netjer, a couple of years back, which honored Bast by sharing with each other daily that which brings us joy. It seemed like a good thing to revive.]
Today’s joy was in contrasts: sun and shadows sliding beneath bare branches as the chill wind blew, tiny pillows of intensely emerald moss nestling amidst the brown winter grasses. It feels so good to walk outside, even in winter — especially in winter, perhaps, when everything is stark and clean, and the smallest traces of life and movement stand out so vividly.
Dua Netjer! Dua Bast! Nekhtet!
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12.08.09
Posted in Netjeru, Poetry and Prayers, Stalking Beauty at 11:15 am by Shefyt
After yesterday’s post on the gifts of Set’s storms, a thought occurred to me, although it’s actually rooted in a realization from the day of the snowfall itself: from standing in the shrine room, having just offered candle flame and rum-flavored iced tea to Set, gazing out the window at the darkening afternoon, and being struck with the sudden beauty of it, the gentle and relentless descent of the snow, the world beneath the clouds possessed of a profound stillness and yet also of a dynamic energy, a subtly electric tension.
There’s a danger in constructing a false dichotomy where Set is all wildness and chaotic upheaval and Heru is all beauty and transformed, purified order. Like the Taoist yin-yang symbol, even though They’re opposites, They also contain the seeds of each other. Heru has His wildness too, in the tearing claws, in the battering power of unfettered wings, in the unleashed might of the King as warrior, like a lion in the carnage of battle. And Set is beautiful in and of Himself, not merely for what He gives way to. “You are beautiful,” I told Him in the shrine room that afternoon, awed. It seemed to amuse Him. So here are a few more words on the beauty of Set.
Praising the Beauty of Set
O Set, I praise Your great and implacable beauty:
in the looming majesty of the thunderhead,
in the shivery hush of snow falling at twilight,
in the lightning-edged whorls of the fractal,
in the wind-carved austerity of the desert at high noon,
in the fierce and subtle glitter of its sands.
Your ecstasy is in the howl of passion, of exertion,
in the stretch of the body driven beyond all rational limits,
in the hot, animal confusion of desire and of war.
Your rage is in the cold, burning weight of the iron blade,
perfect in balance, the shuddering slip of the faultline,
the swift-swelling wave that rises, curling and smooth, to block out the sky.
In all of Your wonder and Your terror, You are beautiful:
You are all things exotic and rare and deeply strange.
Your hands are scented with myrrh, with frankincense,
with perfumes from far-off lands that have not yet been named.
Son of Nut, Your smile is the nuclear flare of an exploding star,
expending its light and heat without limit into the black void of space.
You are the crocodile-jawed storm of destruction,
You are the raw shout of defiance snatched away by the teeth of the gale,
and You are the defiance that remains sealed within the heart, silent and pure.
In Your two hands, You hold despair and hope.
In all things, O Set, You are beautiful.
Dua Set! Nekhtet!
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12.07.09
Posted in Netjeru, Stalking Beauty, Thoughts and Reflections at 9:12 am by Shefyt
In my last post I was talking about the darkness of winter — and then the day after that was dazzling, brilliant with sun on the half-melted, lacy snow crust and on the jewels of ice and wet snow clinging to the trees, the road shining white with salt and the sky a crystalline, piercing blue. Winter is the darkest time, but in some moments it can also be the brightest as Set, the Lord of Storms, passes through and then departs, trailing a glorious, transfigured beauty in His wake. Without the storm, we’d never see this radiant and transformed world; without His rivalry with Set, Heru would never be a true king, tested and tempered. So honor Set for His wild strength that shakes the sky; honor Heru Who arises in splendor.
Dua Set! Dua Heru! Nekhtet!
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12.05.09
Posted in Thoughts and Reflections at 7:24 pm by Shefyt
I’ve been feeling lately like one of those acrobats who balance spinning plates on the ends of poles. It’s challenging to keep them all in motion without dropping anything. I’ve been working on my first novel, which means that this blog lost momentum for a while. Now I have a new freelance assignment, and I also need to prepare for the Bast festival that I’ll be hosting at the shrine in a couple of weeks, plus assorted other projects, as always. At least I’m never stuck with nothing to do.
But during this last week I managed to squeeze in Senut once, for the first time in a long while. And there was so much joy in it, so much that it made my heart sing. At the center of the spinning, there is this, this — the hush of Zep Tepi in the instant before the song of creation, the perfection of the single unfolding moment.
Today is the first day of the first month of Peret, the Kemetic season known as “growing,” the time of planting and tending the fields after the influx of the floodwaters has receded. And it’s snowing here, the first reasonably serious snowfall of our New Jersey season. It seems contradictory at best to honor the growing time as we sink deeper into the darkness of winter’s short days, as the last leaves lose their grasp and fall, leaving stark branches reaching up against the snow-heavy, cloudy sky. And yet, growing doesn’t start with the first green shoots. It starts with the bare field, harrowed and plowed, with the seed pressed down into the darkness beneath the soil and left to lie there in stillness and silence, the new plant curled up within, waiting for its time.
Tonight I’ll light a candle and offer perfume and cool water to Bast, in honor of the new month. And I’ll pray for the renewal to be found in rest, and the promise of the flowering that’s to come.
Dua Bast! Nekhtet!
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10.23.09
Posted in Friday Findings at 12:11 pm by Shefyt
This is an interesting piece. The museum’s Web page says that it’s a triad including Bast, while the label in the photo calls it “Seated Figures of Bast.” Is it Bast and two other lionness-headed Goddesses? And if so, who are They? Or is it supposed to be three different manifestations of Bast? Or, since three in Kemetic thought is the number of indefinite multiplicity, was this piece intended to signify Bast in all Her forms? Mysteries, mysteries….
(Click the image to go to the museum’s site, where you can view a larger version of the photo.)
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10.22.09
Posted in The Wild Sky, Thoughts and Reflections at 12:21 pm by Shefyt
Last evening, driving home, was an evening of layers: blue sky high above great sheets of sun-and-shadow clouds; the late golden light cutting across the air to ignite the treetops, turning them into brassy many-colored fires, or striking lower, between them, to burn on houses, grass, cars; the transitioning leaves in all their autumn hues overlapping like feathers; and, most keen of all, my own awareness of existing on multiple levels, of making the everyday drive, part of the New Jersey routine of commuters, and at the same time being with the sky, and also every place in between, breathing between earth and heaven, like Shu.
This morning I got up early to offer to Heru-hekenu on His feast day: flame, cool water, a little Florida water for scent, and teriyaki chicken. His message to me in return was very simple: Fly.
What does it mean to fly? I won’t ever suddenly sprout wings, except perhaps in dreams. But even while my feet are on the ground (or the gas pedal), I can still soar.
What sets your spirit flying?
Dua Heru-hekenu! Nekhtet!
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