15 Years

I’ve been doing some reflecting on where my path began lately and realized that this year marks 15 years since I began a journey of self discovery through Paganism. I’ve written before, I think, about how my path began when I read The Odyssey for the first time in my junior high school library. It was a crackly, blue, hardcover book that the librarian told me hadn’t been checked out since she had been working there.

I checked it out several more times that school year and sought it out the next year to find that it had been swept away with the other unpopular books. I moved on to reading everything I could find about the ancient Gods and was overjoyed whenever my Ancient History class touched on the subject.

I didn’t know then that I’d been on this path now. I didn’t even know the term Pagan or that it was an available path to follow.

All I knew was that the God of The Bible was not the only to receive love and honor. I had tried to give Him my love and I had tried to receive His, but I never felt Him. There was never a connection.

I searched endlessly for that connection until I was 18, spending my days and evenings wandering the shelves in the local Borders bookstore day after day reading (but not buying…) their books on Greek Mythology, when I discovered the metaphysical section and learned that people worshiped, loved, and honored these Gods and others like Them.

I took a chance and began talking to Them like I had tried to talk to the God of The Bible. I spoke, I wrote, I thought, and I began meditating for the first time. And I waited.

At the time I was an avid writer and was working tirelessly on a comic book script. My time spent searching for the presence of these new-old Gods was focused on finding Apollo. So when the first signs came to me I knew it must be Him. I grasped firmly to that idea for a year, wondering why I didn’t feel fulfilled in that aspect of my spirituality.

Then He came to me. Bold and strong. Dark and awe inspiring. My loosely Christian upbringing led me to interpret His signs as those of Hades. Dark, smoldering, with a “pitchfork” of sorts in His hand. His patience was endless as I tried convincing myself of who He was, but He wasn’t.

While Hades lent me His council on many things during this time as I gave Him praise Poseidon sat closely by my side, whispering truths. And when I finally welcomed Him in my heart, He left a place for Hades that would be filled by His Lady Persephone in the next couple of years.

Throughout that time I sought council and learned lessons from the Gods – some Greek, some Egyptian, some Norse. There are still whispers from some, God or otherwise I’m not sure, that I haven’t yet clarified. I’ve met guides and spirits in passing and welcomed my One, Sunrise, into my life.

My depression still sometimes interferes with my ability to connect to the Gods and to nature (and to myself and the people around me, for that matter), but along with my daughter, the Gods help me to work through it and continue on this path.

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