Dealing With Shame

When I went before Sekhmet to thank Her, an image popped into my head as I sat praying— an archer drawing a bow. The significance of that didn’t strike me until much later, but I eventually recalled something I had heard from Them in a quiet moment several years ago:

We can guide an arrow, but the archer must draw the bow.

The point was well taken: if I lounge in self-pity and inaction, there is nothing They can do to help me*. My medical problems weren’t on their way to being dealt with until I started Googling doctors and making calls. She led me to the healer I needed, but I had to start walking in order to make sense of the map.  I kicked myself for waiting and moved on with things, resolving not to wait so long before acting in the future, but the image didn’t go away and I slowly realized that I had made that promise before. Something was keeping me from taking action not just in this but in a host of other issues...

Results

Continuing on from the post yesterday, and the results of the appointment...

Sekhmet Convinces Me to Get Long Overdue Medical Treatment...

Fair warning: this post may be very uncomfortable to read and deals with a personal medical issue some people will find “gross” or even “disgusting”. It took a lot of courage to write about this publically because there is so much shame attached to it, and I’m still a bit uneasy with making it public knowledge because this “terrible secret” isn’t something I talk about with anyone in real life. But this is also my first real encounter with Sekhmet, one of my Beloveds, and it’s a huge thing in my life right now so if I don’t talk about it I continue on relative radio silence for lack of anything else I can maintain decent focus on. That said, I wouldn’t think worse of you for skipping this one.

Painting the Light Part 2: Lessons from Watercolor

The hardest thing about watercolor is retraining one’s eyes to see differently. Highlights are created with the glowing white of untouched paper and to manage that, one must begin any picture not by painting that which the eye is naturally drawn to—the shine and light of the foreground—but rather by working from the deepest of the shadows outward into the light.

One of these days they will try to hush me and I will raise my voice...

“Well, you know my feelings on the matter,” he said, “you have to leave religion behind if you want to find truth. That’s not what these people are looking for.”

Sometimes I wonder if my brother really comprehends just how strongly I qualify as one of “those people” or just how much I resent the fact that he seems to sense no irony in his belittling of the religious mainly on the grounds that people shouldn’t need someone to tell them how to think about the world. Did you make your own science then, bother? Or was it handed to you as doctrine…

Paint the Light

I get sequestered fairly often, don’t I?

It isn’t a matter of having nothing to say, nor is it a matter of not having the time to say it. It’s more a peculiar sort of isolation that comes from not having the words for what one is experiencing. It was Ra this time, and I am coming to understand now just how great a role His essence plays in the life I lead...