Into the Void and Beyond

Death.

Such a taboo thing so many places, or sad. Treated as something to be feared and fought against no matter the form it takes. To fear the inevitable is irrational and completely without reason. But also part of what defines humanity. But fear is for another long ramble.

Death is not an enemy to be fought on some battlefield. But what so very many don’t realize or want to realize is that Death comes to us often and in many MANY ways. Those of you reading that also read Tarot or Runes know how people react when death shows in a reading. It can come as the end of a relationship. It can be the loss of part of the self. Death can be there to help you end a chapter of your life, but the book isn’t finished.

Yes, Death takes and takes and never seems to be filled. But what does it take exactly? A relationship? Yes. But imagine that relationship was one where there was love but also abuse and poison. One of the chapters of your life? What if that chapter was filled with tales of being sucked into toxic, acidic places and or people.  A loved one? What if that loved one was suffering?

Death takes our love, our happiness, our contentment and leaves grief and mourning in its wake.  Oceans of tears and an orchestra of cries in its wake. But Death also takes pain, suffering, fear, poison, doubt and can leave something new and stronger in the place of the old.

Every single path has a version of the personification of Death. Every spiritual path states there is something beyond this existence. What I would find truly frightening? If I had to make that journey alone. So grieve. Mourn. Wail and rage and create a river with your tears. Death is painful. But so is Life. Grow with whatever passing you may face in your journey. And yes, sometimes you will get lost. Make mistakes. Take risks. Get hurt. And you will grow. And the pain will fade. Let none tell you how to or how long to grieve, but remember that eventually you must move forward. Otherwise Entropy will come and the world will continue on.  It is your choice. Because one of the most difficult deaths to experience is the Death of Self. To choose to willing let what you were die and become someone stronger, someone a bit different, someone that has had a peek under that tattered hood and fears a little less.

For those reading this of a more rational and scientific bent allow me to mention a very basic law of this reality. Energy cannot be created nor destroyed, only change forms. And that would apply to the bio-electric energy that drives our minds and bodies, that forms the neurons between which knowledge and memory and personality spark. You may argue that we are those neurons, but I would counter that we are that spark. And as such we, in a way, are immortal and Death is a transitional state only.

You must be the one to choose what to believe and let that guide you.

When it’s my time (many years from now) I hope to greet Death like an old friend, and walk forward unafraid and not alone. I will go to the Hall and greet my ancestors with story and tale, to weep and to laugh. To watch over my Kin and descendants. And to make as much mischief as possible.

Just a touch of musing

It’s an odd thing to be thought of and called an Elder in a spiritual capacity in any place, especially when you aren’t able to be able to begin to fathom the depths of your path. Over 2 decades I have walked with my Patron, through beauty and horror both. I have no doubts at all that I walk a Left hand path, though it took time for me to come to some terms with that.

As much as some look at me as a teacher, I am still very much a student. I hold no illusions that I will ever see myself as anything more. Yet, there’s that title. Elder. Why? Is it age? I’m only 43 years old. Is it experience? Maybe, but so many more have that in spades compared to me. Maybe knowledge? I can lead a circle, a ritual. I know some of the songs, a few prayers. Others know more. So what is it?

My life flows constantly, with currents and eddies that swirl and spin me. Sometimes yes, I feel as if I am drowning. Sometimes it’s water, other times it’s fire that carries me, takes me, drowns me. Yet for over half my life my faith has been the life line. And always one of those holding that line had flaming red hair and scarred lips. Recently more hands have come to hold that rope. Some are there for a moment as I dive and retrieve what’s needed, and then on they go. Others I truly believe would only let go if I were to cut that rope. But I have learned that the rope is there when I need it, and can swim pretty damn well for the most part.

What I am rambling at is that I’m not the captain, I have no ship, no shoreline. Just water, fire, and a steady line. I do my best to swim with the current, dance with the flame, and on occasion I can acquire an insight. I know that to leave the water, the flame means only the void. Yes I could utilize all the terms indicative to my chosen path, but not all would be able to understand that.

I suppose what all this is leading to is worth. The biggest question is am I worthy to be called/considered an Elder? All I did was survive, be there for people that I could be there for, and get a lesson or ten beat into my thick skull. You see, I question my self worth every damn day. I go days without looking in a mirror because I despise what I see in the reflection. Shouldn’t an Elder be able to love themselves as they love others? Because I most certainly do not. But that worth isn’t truly up to me teaches my path. Our worth is based through the eyes of our Kin and Gods/Goddesses, not our own. And I trust in that. I have to. So if you have read this far know that one lesson I have learned and will share is the creature in the reflection is only your own perception, and it’s up to you to see that or see through the eyes loved ones. In one I am a worthless pile of humanoid offal. The other? Apparently to some an Elder.

But I am just happy with friend and Kin.