Set Story: Part 6 (conclusion...for now)

So, I was asked how I came to meet and be involved with Set and started to type a “short” version of the story only to find that even the “short” version is incredibly long. So I’m doing a series of installments called Set Story. (I just had a moment where I envisioned a sort of Kemetic version of the How I Met Your Mother TV show, I hope that’s just my subconscious being *funny* because that show stretched out its premise waaaay too long...)

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

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Set Story: Part 6 (The Conclusion?)

So, seven years (give or take some months) after first meeting him, he finally managed to get me to knock timidly on the door of the House of Netjer. Which brings us to now.

Mostly.

Many of you have probably already read the posts here that show what happened after. You have probably already seen my anguish and dismay as I've realized what I had feared that night when I first filled out the form.If you haven’t, here are the posts in question, in order, for reference:

When He Speaks from Within Me
A Woman's Hand
Trust and Fear
A One-Sided Argument (and the second part of that)
An Answer from the Ibis

Now, before anyone pops up in the comments to remind me that the RPD is not required and that I don't have to make that decision now: I know...but that's not the point. The point is that there is no reason not to. No reason other than fear and to use the words of a famous man, I have nothing to fear but fear itself.

See, I took Rev. Sedjemes's suggestions to heart when I started the course. Read the Ask the Nisut Archives, she told us, because many of our questions were already answered there. And I did. All of them. I also found the blogs and podcasts and the daily words and the letters. I read them all. I read them as I sat on deathwatch for my mother. And I only started to read them because it had been suggested but I kept reading because of what was said. Her words struck cords in me, and while I certainly do not have the memory to recall each sentence in that volume of wisdom, my heart has no trouble recalling the sense of relevance and truth and trust that I gained through the reading. She won me over. I trust her. And because I trust her, I trust the rituals she oversees. So while I do not have to do the RPD, there is no reason not to, because I trust that it will be right.

And in some small part of me, I fear it will be right.

And I understand that there was never any promise that this would be easy (rites of passage, by definition, are not), and I know why I keep going back to that fear of my parent not being Him: I have a sneaking, aching suspicion, that though he is unquestionably the one who walks with me, the one who always has walked with me, that he may not have been the one who created me. His silence has not helped. There are hints and whispers and thoughts which cross my mind in moments I have been forbidding myself to have. I could be wrong, but to be honest, I’ve gotten to the point where I’m not even sure if I want to be wrong.

And it doesn’t change anything. Whatever my RPD holds, it cannot erase this history. There are two shrines in the back room, one for Senut and one for Set. I can handle both obligations. I do not have to forsake him, no matter how the shells fall—Rev. Sedjemes made that clear enough when I asked in class. And if he is satisfied enough with sharing my attentions to continue on with this, so too will I be satisfied.Whatever may come of it.

After all, he’ll get his way in the end.

 That has been a theme for us from the beginning.