Archive for March, 2013

Today is the last day of Peret, the ancient Egyptian season of growing; tomorrow is I Shomu I, the first day of the first month of Shomu, the beginning of the harvest and the heat. Today is also marked, on the Kemetic Orthodoxy calendar, as the Procession of Nebtu.

According to Henadology, Nebtu is a little-known consort of Khnum; Her name means “mistress of the region/district,” which sounds like as much a title as a proper name. A litany at Esna involving Her seems to indicate that She was regarded as a goddess of plant growth, especially edible plants, and so linked to the nourishment that comes from the land. With that understanding, it makes perfect sense for Her to enjoy a procession today, walking on the cusp between peak growth and first harvest.

Yesterday, I enjoyed a dinner with my partner and a new friend, who contributed fresh vegetables to our homecooked meal; today, my breakfast was leftover veggies, and half my dinner was a fresh salad. I did not know about Nebtu until I looked at my calendar and found the Henadology article on Her, well after both meals, but I would like to thank Her nonetheless for the green, delicious food I have had yesterday and today.

Hail, Nebtu, Lady in Green!
May You bless our fields,
which grace our tables with crops,
which satisfy our bellies!
I give thanks to You
for every green thing I eat
and for the fertility of the land.
Dua Nebtu!

Today is a Feast Day for Sepa, the centipede god of ancient Egypt. Sepa is considered to be a protector against poisonous bites and stings, which is a common attribute among deities of venomous creatures, including scorpions (Serqet) and snakes (Wadjet and others). He’s also invoked against the Uncreated One in its serpent form, reinforcing Sepa’s ability to protect mortals against everyday snakes.

The Kemetic Orthodoxy calendar lists Him as Heru-Sepa, or Horus-Who-is-Sepa, and as a son of Sekhmet. Unfortunately, on short notice, the most reliable information I can find on Sepa is the aforementioned link to Henadology, and the primary reference for that article is in French (which is fine) but not among my personal collection (which is less fine), so I can’t verify it first-hand. Nothing in the Henadology article, nor in the quick’n’cursory research I did, shows me how Sepa is a form of Heru; it seems like Sepa is more thoroughly linked to Wesir (Osiris) and funerary purifications, only encountering Heru when He brings Sepa (linked to the inundation) to Cairo. I freely admit that my initial spark of curiosity about Sepa was due to His being a son of Sekhmet, but without knowing from whence that came historically, I am hesitant to put my full weight on it as a bridge to Him.

All the same, I have been thinking about seeking out Netjeru with Whom I am unfamiliar or unacquainted and saying hello. Centipedes freak me right the hell out, so why not start with their god? (I have a strange sense of what constitutes a good idea.)

Things I have been extrapolating, inferring, and/or contemplating, which I have not verified in any historical source:

• Most centipedes are primarily carnivorous and only eat vegetable matter when starving, but are otherwise opportunistic feeders. That means I feel pretty good about offering meats and/or cheeses to Sepa, but not fruits, and not really sweets (which are frequently grain-based).
• Centipedes tend to be nocturnal, which means approaching Sepa after dark is not only a-okay but potentially downright preferential.
• Centipedes are heavily dependent on water, since they dry out easily, so cool water is an exceptionally appropriate offering for a centipede god of the desert.
• And since centipedes are so water-dependent, perhaps that partially explains Sepa’s link to the inundation: centipedes flourish as the flood courses through the land, providing them the essential moisture to thrive.
• Some (unverified) online sites suggest that Sepa is associated with fertility for one or both of these two reasons: centipedes follow along after earthworms, which fertilize the soil as they pass; and Sepa has been depicted with the head of a donkey, linking Him to donkey manure used in fertilization of the fields.
• Likewise, some sites suggest that part of Sepa’s protective role, especially in regards to protecting Wesir, is due to the fact that centipedes will eat the bugs that feast on a dead body.
• Sepa has been depicted as a mummiform man with two small “horns” on His head; I wonder if these horns correspond with centipede forcipules?
• Here (unverified site; I want to look this scene up in a book soon), Sepa is invoked as a god of the east in a purification by a sem-priest; I can only imagine He’s being called upon to purify the body or ka of all toxins.

So, tonight, I did a light purification and laid a modest offering spread for the Feast of Sepa: sausage slices and sharp cheddar, cool water, incense, and a candle. I invited Him in to partake of the food and drink and spent most of the time in shrine contemplating what little I had learned of Him and what other parts I was guessing at. I wondered if I was the only Kemetic who, in that moment, was offering to Him, as He is not a well-known god, but rather than feeling the enormity of a mostly-undistracted Netjeru’s direct attention, I got the distinct sense that He stays quite industrious in the Unseen, in the underworld, working to protect Wesir and to purify the kau who come to be weighed against Ma’at’s feather. I did have the pleasure (eh-heh) of receiving a few impressions of a rather large centipede, enjoying the offerings I’d laid out on my altar; I haven’t the faintest whether it was my imagination, one of Sepa’s netjeri, or Sepa Himself. Took a bit of self-control not to flinch, either way!

I reverted the food offerings, but left the water on the shrine to evaporate naturally (a slow process in a humid environment), my way of providing a longer-term offering symbolic of that which sustains all life—including centipedes.

Dua Sepa! May You never thirst!

Disclaimer: This post is heavy on my personal opinions and interpretations, including some impressions of my spiritual Mother, Nebt-het (Nephthys). Others may have entirely different views of and experiences with Her, and that is a-okay. I speak only for myself.

Every weekday morning, on the drive to work, I say my morning prayers. In that short litany, I thank Nebt-het for Her compassion and grace; by that I mean not only the grace She bestows upon me, but also the grace I enact, which I consider to stem from Her in the same way a child inherits certain characteristics from its parents.

To clarify, the grace of which I speak is not physical coordination and smoothness of motion, though that can indeed play a part. This grace is an elegance of the spirit, a composure of the intangible self. My kind of grace, overlapping with zen and individual sovereignty, states simply that we each are responsible for our own selves, our actions, our reactions, our baggage, and our projections, and that we cannot and should not try to take responsibility for someone else’s stuff. Grace states that someone else’s distress is not about us and should not be taken personally. Grace states that sometimes, shit happens, but we can at least control how we react to the sudden manure in our way. And, of course, grace describes the way one acts and reacts: smoothly, self-controlled, benignly, gently, along the positive-to-neutral spectrum.

Sometimes I get the sense that grace is a lost art, especially among some men. (I really hate generalizing based on sex, but unfortunately, this is experiential and not blindly stereotyped; however, I know it’s not true for everyone.) I find myself wondering how often my own grace gets shrugged off as effeminate, or how often it’s mistaken for deference when it is only courtesy. I wonder if a tactful tongue and a compassionate heart are really heard and felt, or if the gentleness and the subtleties just make it easier for others to override it with noise and force.

Nebt-het, as a goddess who welcomes the newly dead, Who guides them through the Duat, and Who comforts those who mourn the deceased, is very composed and self-contained. She has experienced loss—Her brother Wesir (Osiris) died, the only god to experience death—and so She understands more than most Netjeru what humans feel when other humans die. She has keened Her grief and torn Her hair and stood guard over Her brother’s corpse after seeking it on the wings of a kite, but in the face of others wailing, She is quiet and still. She holds the space and makes it safe for us to scream and sob; in Her arms, we do not fear, and in not fearing, we can express our grief and begin to release it.

When I thank Her for Her grace, I am thanking Her for holding the space—not for me, but for every person who has ever wept, for every person who has been afraid and felt weak or vulnerable—and I am thanking Her for showing me by example how to act with such impeccable grace in service to others. Those who come to me distraught will see my Mother’s child first and foremost, a fallible and oft-emotional human animal second.

If this grace looks like weakness from the outside, I couldn’t care less; it is one of the hardest things I have ever done, and being a conduit for grace has demanded more strength and stability from me than almost anything else. And in that, I am glad to know Nebt-het as my role-model, and I am glad to walk in Her footsteps as best I may.

Last year’s first G post was on genderqueer and GLBTQ Netjeru.

In November 2011, I began recording prayer requests from the Kemetic community in Kalash, a script of my own invention, and in that way offering my energies and prayers to those who needed them. Over time, it evolved into a weekly ritual of its own, complete with offerings of food and drink, candle and incense, and a light purification. I did it for my community, but it has always been a service I performed in my Mother Nebt-het’s name.

A couple weeks ago, I filled my prayerbook. I have been searching since then for its successor, and it took me until last weekend to find the right book. It’s handmade from the Lokta plant by Nepalese artisans; I chose it because it supports the global community (and fair trade), and also for the cover art that reminds me of both my Mothers. On the right side of the below photo, you can see the initial book blessing/dedication/opening blanket prayer; the first three pages are that lovely night-blue, while the rest are cream-colored.

Beginning this book has made me realize that, roughly once a year, I will fill my prayerbook and go seeking a new one. The thought of having a small stack of books filled with handwritten prayers some years down the road makes me smile. It is a very small thing, praying for my siblings in the faith, for my family and friends, but I am glad to put forth the time and words to do so.

To feed the ka is to nourish one’s spirit, one’s soul. Ancient Egyptians considered the soul to have multiple components; the ka was one of the two most important, as it contained one’s incarnate personality and, after death, would be transformed into one of the blessed dead. The nourishment of the ka in life for many modern Kemetics is just as vital as nourishment of the flesh, and I wanted to share a few things that have been feeding my ka lately.

Feeding my ka is a unique feeling, one not mistakable for “just” happiness or satisfaction; it is marrow-deep and suffuses every part of me with well-being, as though I have feasted on joy and no longer hunger. When I feed my ka, I feel a powerful sense of balance, of groundedness, as though the earth would have to crack before I would lose this fulfilled feeling. It is not something I feel all the time, and I do not seek out ka-feeding activities and situations as often as I would like to… but I realized recently that listening to certain music floods my ka with nourishment like almost no other.

A year or so ago, I discovered The Piano Guys, a cellist and pianist who so loved their music and were so skillful in their passion for the art that their joy was contagious and inspiring. I listened to their Youtube songs on repeat during hard days at work, and their happiness and their music filled my heart when I couldn’t see past the stress. One of my absolute favorites is One Direction – What Makes You Beautiful; if you sample no other piece of their music, at least give this video a watch and a listen.

Another piece of music that uplifts the spirit and fills my heart is Rootless, by SJ Tucker (you can listen to it at that link!). Everything from her voice to the lyrics makes this song deeply impactful and personally meaningful to me (and a whole lot of other pagans, I reckon). Listening to this song alone reminds me of my roots, both spiritual and communal, and honors the hard work that this path sometimes demands.

And lastly, but so far from least, my most staple of spirit-foods is the sky. Stepping outside, breathing, and looking up always stills the frantic pace of the human world, dulls down the sharp edges, and gentles the twinges and aches. The sky is my Mothers, and well before I ever did a thing with Kemeticism, the sky eased my heart.

I hope every one of you has the opportunity to feed your ka regularly; may you never run dry on this strange and wonderful path we choose to walk.

Last year’s second F post was on feral.

Hail Montu, The Great Bull, Lord of Heaven,
Sovereign of the Gods, Who Dwells in the Army!
I praise Your strong arm and Your fierce heart;
I praise Your might and Your dauntless courage!

Hail, all you staunch children of Montu,
you warriors and soldiers, you protectors and guards!
I praise your strong arms and your fierce hearts;
I praise your might and your dauntless courage!

I give thanks to Montu, Of Everlasting Power,
and to those who follow in His great footsteps,
who watch over the weak and the wounded,
who battle and conquer isfet and wickedness.

Dua Montu!

This post is part of the Kemetic Round Table, which aims to answer some of the most common questions and provide a wealth of diverse options for the Kemetic novice to explore.

What is UPG?

UPG is a common term used in the polytheist, pagan, and metaphysical fields that means Unverified Personal Gnosis. “Gnosis,” according to dictionary.com, is defined as “knowledge of spiritual matters; mystical knowledge”—so UPG is subjective mystical knowledge that an individual accrues in one’s spiritual or religious practice. The key word here is subjective (or personal), meaning this spiritual knowledge is not necessarily objective, historically verified, or scientifically feasible… though UPG can easily have roots in objective truths and communal understanding.

One accrues UPG by spending time with one’s gods (or spirits or ancestors or etc), by interacting with Them, and by actively building a personal spiritual practice. Some UPG may stem from or be inspired by research or academia, but it is primarily gained by engaging in ritual, meditation, prayer, etc—it’s the difference between reading the manual and getting your hands dirty. UPG is the sweat and soil that coat your fingers when you dig into the thick of Kemeticism; it is the lessons you learn.

As an example, I associate Ma’ahes not only with the traditional summer heat, but also with thunderous downpours. I’ve only seen a reference to Him as a storm deity in one source (the Routledge dictionary, I believe), and it was a Greek-era association, which I normally toss out with the bathwater in my Kemetic lore-gathering. However, in this particular case, there are certain types of storms that I consider His, and the link for me is a powerful one—this is my UPG.

Are there rules?

While there are no rules in UPG— it’s personal, after all—there are certainly some healthy guidelines that I’d encourage folks to keep in mind.

First and foremost, use common sense. If you think an Unseen entity is communicating something entirely off-putting or is acting in an unsettling way, check your gut and employ some logic. The human mind is a beautiful, complex, extraordinary thing, and we have vivid and brilliant imaginations. It’s easy to get caught up in our own constructed illusions, especially when first starting out; it’s hard to have the patience and the humility to rationale-check your experiences. No Netjeru will ask you to do something harmful to yourself or others; no Netjeru will push you to act outside of ma’at (rightness, balance, truth). It’s also pretty unlikely that you are a reincarnated Egyptian king, sorry. :) Be alert for any experience that strays too far outside of the realms of plausibility, in either positive or negative directions—not to immediately discard it, but to examine it more thoroughly.

My rule of thumb is to ask, “Is it useful?” If an experience or belief or a piece of my UPG is non-detrimental to any portion of my self or life, and if it enriches or enhances any portion of my life, it’s both harmless and beneficial, making it useful. This isn’t to say that some “real” parts of one’s practice or UPG won’t be a little bitter along with the sweet, but asking if it’s useful helps isolate those areas of potential trouble so they can be more rigorously reviewed with common sense firmly in hand.

Ultimately, only you can determine the validity and usefulness of your UPG. While I caution against integrating damaging UPG, I understand that sometimes the process of growth or the release of unhealthy things can be painful, and one’s practice is not necessarily going to be all kittens and rainbows. I have been faced with unpleasant tasks and challenging requests myself, but they have all been for the overall good of myself and my life; it’s important to be able to distinguish something hard from something downright bad.

How important is UPG? Is it reliable?

I consider UPG to be rather important, but not to the total exclusion of research into one’s god(s), magical techniques, relevant history, etc. Kemetics can range the gamut, however, from almost entirely UPG-based to almost entirely fact-based; find the mix that works best for you. If you’re deeply uncomfortable with jumping into an experience without a lot of study and intellectual contemplation, then UPG will matter less to you than the veracity of your academic resources. If you prefer to be more hands-on than analytical, then you may place a much greater weight on experience and less emphasis on research. Either way is fine, so long as it works for you.

How reliable one’s UPG is will depend on one’s ability to separate the wheat from the chaff… and also the importance UPG has in one’s practice. If you’re brand-new to the field and heavily academia-centric, you may not rely on your UPG very much. But, over time, your UPG will reinforce itself (or prove invalid and thus discardable) and will become more reliable, especially as your sense of what’s valid or not hones with experience.

For myself, I rely heavily on my UPG, but I frequently fact-check to make sure that no objective sources directly contradict it. I don’t mind if my UPG fills in a factual blank, but I tend to raise an eyebrow if it completely goes against a historical record. But then, I’m a soft reconstructionist, and so I give weight to academic and historical resources; some Kemetics are far looser (or stricter) than me.

What about others’ UPG? Does it matter to us—and should it?

I admit, it’s always a bit of a treat when I find some of my UPG meshes with someone else’s. There is always a possibility that your UPG can become VPG – verified personal gnosis – if a number of other Kemetics share it, thus making it a communal experiential belief.

However, you’re not required to integrate others’ UPG—only to respect it, just as you would like others to respect your own. If you couldn’t care less what anyone else thinks or practices, then there’s no need for you to try to weave in external UPGs into your practice; if, however, you are more community-based or socially-inclined, you can keep external UPGs in mind. Be wary of adopting someone else’s UPG as unadulterated fact, though. Even though you may consciously like another’s UPG, that doesn’t mean it will prove true and valid for you; one Kemetic’s experience of Sekhmet as a loving mother-figure may leave you wishing that the blazing, distant lioness-goddess you experience would be kinder. Your own UPG should always take primary importance in your practice, with very few exceptions, and when exploring another’s UPG for yourself, use your common sense and logic-checks.

To sum up…

UPG, or unverified personal gnosis, is the accumulation of subjective experiences and beliefs that informs an individual’s personal practice. I always encourage folks to check their UPG against common sense and to ask if it’s useful (harmless and beneficial) before integrating it into one’s spirituality. The importance of UPG in one’s practice will vary by person, but its reliability will usually increase over time, as a Kemetic gains experience and a better sense of discrimination. While one is free to ignore or to contemplate others’ UPG, one should always consider one’s own UPG first and foremost, as external UPGs may prove invalid and should not be treated as factual by default.

If you enjoyed this post, please check out the other takes on UPG and its usages by my fellow Round Table bloggers!

When I was planning my Pagan Blog Project topics, earlier in the year, I listed “Feasts and Festivals” for one of the weeks of F. The Kemetic calendar has a lot of types of holidays, and I thought it would be really useful to my practice, and potentially to my readers, to figure out the differences and how I’d celebrate/observe them.

And then another Kemetic blogger beat me to the punch with a really well-written post about keeping Kemetic holidays, based on what we know and are willing and able to celebrate. *shakes fist!* :)

In all honesty, though, having that post already written sort of nullifies my need to go into great detail, so instead, I’m linking to it for my readers’ benefit and will do a quick, mostly-for-my-own-reference breakdown below.

Please note that I’m discussing how I myself do or will celebrate, not suggesting it be the end-all for anyone else! Holidays are a learning experience for me, and I don’t really do any of ’em the same way twice. Also, I do not actually celebrate every single Kemetic holiday… especially given that there’s one or more almost every day of the year! I pick and choose, based on my available time, my purity, and how close I am (or would like to be) to the Netjeru in question.

Feast: The perfect excuse to have a little extra awesome in one’s diet! I dedicate the meal of the day to that particular god, or offer Them a special small treat or drink.

Festival: No holds barred! I’ll usually base my activities/offerings on the characteristics of the Netjeru in festival and what They’re associated with, such as martial arts for Sekhmet or music for Hethert-Nut.

Procession: This is a hard one for me, as I don’t normally celebrate them currently. My ideas consist of taking a physical representation of the god on a walkabout, or taking myself out for a walk/drive and offering the time and experience to the god in question, almost like a walking meditation.

Saq (Appearance): Like festivals, these can be very flexible holidays, but I think I’d like my fallback idea to be a candle and incense in offering, and a few minutes of quiet contemplation/interaction in shrine. I feel like a Saq is a time for me to be receptive and attentive, rather than proactive and celebratory.

God Birthday: A time for gifts! Offerings of activities (like music-making) or physical presents (like art or flowers), as well as more traditional offerings of food, drink, candles, and incense. Like festivals, offerings and gifts will be Netjeru-specific.

Lunar Celebration: I’m not close to any of the traditional moon gods, so I currently don’t do anything here. What I’d liiike to do is establish one Netjeru as my go-to lunar deity and begin actually getting back into touch with the cycles of the moon…

Major Holiday: There’s usually enough information on the big holidays, like Wep Ronpet (New Year) and the Mysteries of Wesir (Osiris), that I don’t have to invent my own way of celebration, happily.

As a Shemsu (follower) of Kemetic Orthodoxy, I have undergone the Rite of Parent Divination, a geomantic divination which reveals my divine Parent(s) and Beloved(s). I have two Parents, my Mothers, Nebt-het (Nephthys) and Hethert-Nut; I also have Sekhmet as a pre-divination “surrogate” mother-figure, and I will frequently call Her my mother. Some of my dearest Kemetic siblings, including the wonderful person who introduced me to Kemetic Orthodoxy and my own sister, have a divined Father; in fact, one of my close friends was divined with two, like I have two Mothers.

But I don’t have any deity I unofficially call Father, and I’d like to explore what it’s like to have such a female-centric divine family.

(What do polytheists call the grouping of their deities that they interact with and worship? I want to say “personal pantheon,” but that’s not quite dictionary-accurate. In Kemetic Orthodoxy, it’s our “lineup” or divine family if referring to the Netjeru we were divined with, but I need a term for the Netjeru of my divination plus Sekhmet…)

I have one god consistently in my life, and that is Ma’ahes, the Living Lion; I have called Him brother for nearly as long as I’ve known Him, and He is not paternal in the least with me. Other male Netjeru, all of Whom happen to be my sister’s or friends’ Fathers and Beloveds, will infrequently touch base but aren’t a part of my daily practice so much that we have a strong one-on-one relationship.

So, as things stand, I am a goddess-worshipper. Sekhmet devotee, born of Nebt-het and Hethert-Nut, protected by Serqet. Ma’ahes is so supportive and non-obtrusive, letting me approach Him instead of actively demanding time and attention, that He doesn’t radiate the traditional “lordly” vibes that many male deities do. (Heru-wer, I’m lookin’ at You.) Ma’ahes, the only male Eye of Ra, an executioner personified by the sweltering summer heat… is extremely gentle and patient with me. He is, in fact, as kind as the most compassionate of my goddesses, Hethert-Nut.

This is probably due to my own nature: I am a non-Newtonian creature and will react to blunt force or aggression by steeling myself and raising my defenses, or simply sidestepping and walking away, whereas slower and softer movements are allowed access to my vulnerable insides. In other words, any deity approaching me with any kind of “macho” attitude would not find a berth in my practice. I am mindful, rational, emotional, and compassionate, and I don’t relate well to a lot of posturing or strict hierarchy. (This is also why I don’t deal with many gods of royalty. I respect Them—I just don’t grok Them.)

Perhaps that’s why I didn’t end up with a Father or a kingly god in my divination; it would take a very special sort of god to fill a paternal role without rubbing me the wrong way. Of the hundreds of ancient Egyptian gods, Ptah is one of the few male Netjeru Whose demeanor jives very well with me, and the only Netjeru I could envision having a positive paternal relationship with me. I adore Him and His myths, and the fact that He is Sekhmet’s consort only endears Him further to me. If He were willing, I would happily involve Him in my regular practice and accept that added paternal flavor… but that has yet to happen, mostly through my own inaction.

I’ve wondered if my bias towards goddesses has anything to do with my transition away from Christianity, but I wasn’t brought up so religiously that it left a bruise. Even my human role-models were both strong women and compassionate men, individuals who were solidly good people without being restricted to any extreme of gender stereotype. Being genderfunky myself, I don’t seek out one sex over the other for friendship or company; I tend not to judge at all based on sex or gender, but based on personal characteristics that mesh well with who I am. I find myself very comfortable with many goddesses, but I have not been exclusionary towards gods; it’s been something of an accidental ratio of female-to-male.

So I am a goddesses’ Kemetic, sort of the polytheist version of a ladies’ man, albeit not through any conscious, deliberate choice. Given the wealth of joy and contentment in my spiritual practice, I can’t say I’m complaining—just curious about how the dice fell. My Mothers and my Ladies are beautiful and fierce and fathomless, and I adore Them wholeheartedly… as I do Ma’ahes, as I would any god or goddess Who won my heart.

Last year’s first F post was on five pillars of Kemetic Orthodoxy, which later became a permanent page.

Drew Jacob, of Rogue Priest and Altmagic fame, has a new project: to open his door in New Orleans to anyone who wants or needs a dose of magic.

Through crowdfunding, Drew hopes to raise enough money to create “an open-door workspace to provide spells to whoever needs them, at no fixed cost. Together we can outfit the space to serve the community with positive, life-changing magic ceremonies.” Located at a cultural cross-section of New Orleans, Drew is well-positioned to be able to offer help to a wide diversity of folks who could walk in, sit down, and be heard.

Whether magic is metaphysically real or “just” a psychological tool, the validity of magical experiences to create change in an individual’s life has been experienced in nearly all cultures and ages. Like faith, like love, the intangibility of magic has never stopped it from making an impact. And like faith, like love, cost should not be a barrier preventing someone from getting the benefits of magic.

Drew wants to create a pay-what-you-can magical workshop to serve anyone who needs it, in a city already rife with magic. What’s not to love?

Come support the project—or, if you can’t afford to, please spread the word!

Alternate title: “Colorless,” My Ass

In the Kemetic calendar, today is a day for Tasenetnofret, The Good Sister, a Name Who is a form of Hethert (Hathor), but also an epithet of Nebt-het (Nephthys). This is the one place I have found where my Mothers, Nebt-het and Hethert-Nut, actually overlap.

While idly browsing the Wepwawet Wiki, looking at hieroglyphs, I stumbled across Tasenetnofret’s page. She was described as “a colorless manifestation of Hethert in the role of divine wife.”

I’m pretty sure my reaction was along the lines of “oh no you din’t!” My Mothers? Colorless?!

(Please note that I am not actually taking offense at the editors of Wepwawet Wiki. I realize there’s not a lot of sources out there detailing Tasenetnofret, which can give any Netjeru a lackluster image. I felt compelled to action, not outrage. ~_^)

So, in an immediate effort to rectify this monochromatic statement, I went about painting a very colorful gift for Tasenetnofret:

Dua Tasenetnofret! May Your eyes feast on the most vivid of beautiful colors, always.

First, let’s get the basics of empathy out of the way. It does have a perfectly mundane meaning:

1. the intellectual identification with or vicarious experiencing of the feelings, thoughts, or attitudes of another.
2. the imaginative ascribing to an object, as a natural object or work of art, feelings or attitudes present in oneself.

In metaphysical circles, empathy’s primary meaning seems to be “the vicarious experiencing of the feelings, thoughts, or attitudes of another.” There are plenty of ways to describe how and why this happens, from mingling energy frequencies to insufficient personal shields to psychosomatic tendencies, and I’ve heard theories that range from purely-energetic to purely-imaginative.

Empaths are those who experience empathy to a greater or more intense degree than the norm, and while some of the proposed “whys” of empathy might raise an eyebrow outside of a community heavily fluent in energywork-ese, the fact that some people experience heightened empathy is undeniable. Given that functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) has shown that observing another’s emotional state can activate the same parts of the brain as seen in the person experiencing the original emotion, the reality of the experience of empathy isn’t up for debate.

So empathy is scientific, psychological, and potentially metaphysical. It may even be a necessary precursor for compassion. That covers the basics, so let’s get into the personal bits…

I have considered myself an empath for roughly as long as I can remember. I am hyper-sensitive to the emotions of others, both those who are emotionally close to me and those who are in physical proximity to me. I’m also very sensitive to the overall state of my environment, which links my experience of empathy to my need for plenty of light and thus SAD (seasonal affective disorder), all of which is probably tied somehow to my synesthesia.

I tend to keep fairly quiet nowadays about my experience of empathy, as the word can bring up some unfortunate New Age connotations and elicit some eye-rolling; if I must, I can phrase it as being good at “reading people” or being extra-insightful. But being an empath is like being a cold-blooded snake; just as a reptile’s internal temperature (and therefore its health) is bound to the temperature of its environment, my internal equilibrium is powerfully affected by my environment and the living beings within it. Empathy isn’t something I can turn off; it’s something I have to constantly work with and around. I have psychological techniques and metaphysical tricks to help keep myself from drowning in the tides, but that doesn’t stop me from bobbing like a buoy. There is no emotional stillness for this empath unless I am wholly alone, and even then I have to shake off the echoes of the day’s influences.

A couple years ago, I stumbled over the phrase “highly sensitive person” (HSP) and was floored to discover that my experience of empathy, as well as my sensitivity to the presence of light in my environment, was actually… a normal, albeit not common, condition. Clinical psychologist Dr. Aron even wrote a book on being HSP:

Highly Sensitive People have an uncommonly sensitive nervous system – a normal occurrence, according to Aron. “About 15 to 20 percent of the population have this trait. It means you are aware of subtleties in your surroundings, a great advantage in many situations. It also means you are more easily overwhelmed when you have been out in a highly stimulating environment for too long, bombarded by sights and sounds until you are exhausted.”

While I don’t deny a potential metaphysical component of empathy and high-sensitivity, I have found an immense benefit in learning about the physiological aspects of being an HSP. (Yes, I have the book; no, this is not a paid endorsement.) My existing “dealing with empathy” toolkit has been greatly expanded by learning how to avoid pits of no stimulation and peaks of too much stimulation. There’s a lot to be said for turning a personal vulnerability to a quirk that, in many ways, has turned out to be very beneficial.

After all, I wouldn’t be me if I weren’t an empath, a highly-sensitive person. And I kinda like being me. :)

Last year’s second E post was on eating your heart.

I worked about 55 hours this week. My company is ramping up for their biggest event of the year, and the entire creative group is flooded with requests for assets and new projects. As newly-promoted manager of the department, I get to herd all the cats, from usually-unavailable executives to overworked designers. It is, to say the least, an intense and hectic position, and the crazy won’t ease up until mid-April, after the event.

All week, I have relied heavily on Serqet to lend me Her carapace as protection against the stress and chaos of the fast-paced, long-winded days. I will probably continue to lean on Her until the peak of activity passes and things calm again.

In thanks to Her, I offer this, along with such treats as I create and pour and bake and cook this weekend and in coming days:

Hail, Serqet!
Lady of the Golden Carapace,
She of Strongest Skin,
Your radiance is the sun’s light!
Those bathed in Your glow
kiss the ground before You.

Hail, Serqet!
Lady of the Stinging Tail,
She of Venomous Kiss,
Your mercy is the sun’s blessing!
Those spared from Your touch
kiss the ground before You.

Hail, Serqet!
Lady of the Living Breath,
She of Fearless Heart,
Your power is the sun’s wrath!
Those shielded by Your shadow
kiss the ground before You.

Hail, Serqet!