Before diving in and painting images of my Beloveds and other Names of Netjer, I thought it would be best to first get a little practice painting on papyrus. Here is the finished product of my first attempt, a winged disk:
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Papyrus Painting
I've fallen in love with the imagery of the Egyptian gods. But who can blame me? They're striking, to say the least. I've long wanted some nice statues of the Netjeru for my shrine, but since I can't afford to go out and but any, I
decided to paint images of them instead. Creativity is my favorite – and in my opinion the most meaningful – form of devotion, so while I admire (and pine after) their statuary, I also welcome the chance to create something beautiful on their behalf.
Before diving in and painting images of my Beloveds and other Names of Netjer, I thought it would be best to first get a little practice painting on papyrus. Here is the finished product of my first attempt, a winged disk:
Before diving in and painting images of my Beloveds and other Names of Netjer, I thought it would be best to first get a little practice painting on papyrus. Here is the finished product of my first attempt, a winged disk:
Sunday, April 29, 2012
RPD Results!
On Friday I underwent my Rite of Parent Divination. (For those who don't know, the RPD is a divination meant to determine one's patron gods.) It was a great experience, and now I'm thrilled to introduce myself as the daughter of Bast-Mut and beloved of Nut and Wepwawet-Yinepu.
In the couple of days it's been since my RPD, my thoughts have yet to settle down. The results were both expected and unexpected, but I am of course very pleased with the turnout. I have so much to say about the experience, but I think I need a few days to gather my thoughts and get to know these Netjeru as Parents and Beloveds.
I wish I was able to say more about it now, but rest assured, there will be more posts on the subject!
Until then, dua Bast-Mut! Dua Nut! Dua Wepwawet-Yinepu!
In the couple of days it's been since my RPD, my thoughts have yet to settle down. The results were both expected and unexpected, but I am of course very pleased with the turnout. I have so much to say about the experience, but I think I need a few days to gather my thoughts and get to know these Netjeru as Parents and Beloveds.
I wish I was able to say more about it now, but rest assured, there will be more posts on the subject!
Until then, dua Bast-Mut! Dua Nut! Dua Wepwawet-Yinepu!
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Heka: Words of Creation (PBP)
The ancient Egyptians had no shortage of creation myths. My current favorite is the Memphite Theology, in which Ptah is the creator deity. Unlike Atum who masturbates Shu and Tefnut into creation, or Ra whose tears form the first humans, Ptah's method of creation is an intellectual one. In his heart, Ptah conceived of all things in the universe: the earth, the other gods, humans, animals – everything. He then spoke their names, and they came into existence. According to this myth, ours is a world created entirely by words.
I've always been a pessimist. When so many aspects of your life seem not to work, it is easy to fall into patterns of negative thoughts, lowered expectations, and negative speech. It's also easy to find well-meaning optimists who are all too eager to give unsolicited advice, which often just boils down to "be positive!" To someone with a pessimist's mindset, it is not so simple. Aside from sounding like fluffy self-help nonsense, the advice, in a sense, asks the pessimist to deny reality. How can you be positive when you can't find a job, when your relationships are failing, when your dog dies? The notion seems to belittle what you are experiencing, and couldn't possibly change your situation for the better.
But it's all about perspective. We all know how words can affect us; we've all been insulted and complimented, been inspired by a speech, touched by a poem. Yet the abstract "be/think/speak positive" meant nothing to me because I simply had no way of relating to it. This is where heka comes in. Heka can be defined as "magical speech," the power of words to affect change. As in Ptah's creation myth, the words we speak give life to what is in our hearts and minds. They create our realities.
Lately I've been thinking a lot about the concept of heka, which in turn has me thinking about the words I speak. I've had a lifelong habit of defining things in negative terms. I can't. I don't. I won't. How can I have balance in my life if all I speak is negativity? How am I serving Ma'at if my words only create impossibilities and unhappiness?
I still don't know how far positive speech can go in changing my outlook on things, much less my own reality, but for once I'm willing to give it a try. Whatever the result is, whether or not I change my mindset, I have nothing to lose for the effort. At best, I change myself for the better; at worst, nothing happens.
There's nothing in this world that's as safe a bet as that.
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| Ptah, Sculptor of the Earth |
I've always been a pessimist. When so many aspects of your life seem not to work, it is easy to fall into patterns of negative thoughts, lowered expectations, and negative speech. It's also easy to find well-meaning optimists who are all too eager to give unsolicited advice, which often just boils down to "be positive!" To someone with a pessimist's mindset, it is not so simple. Aside from sounding like fluffy self-help nonsense, the advice, in a sense, asks the pessimist to deny reality. How can you be positive when you can't find a job, when your relationships are failing, when your dog dies? The notion seems to belittle what you are experiencing, and couldn't possibly change your situation for the better.
But it's all about perspective. We all know how words can affect us; we've all been insulted and complimented, been inspired by a speech, touched by a poem. Yet the abstract "be/think/speak positive" meant nothing to me because I simply had no way of relating to it. This is where heka comes in. Heka can be defined as "magical speech," the power of words to affect change. As in Ptah's creation myth, the words we speak give life to what is in our hearts and minds. They create our realities.
Lately I've been thinking a lot about the concept of heka, which in turn has me thinking about the words I speak. I've had a lifelong habit of defining things in negative terms. I can't. I don't. I won't. How can I have balance in my life if all I speak is negativity? How am I serving Ma'at if my words only create impossibilities and unhappiness?
I still don't know how far positive speech can go in changing my outlook on things, much less my own reality, but for once I'm willing to give it a try. Whatever the result is, whether or not I change my mindset, I have nothing to lose for the effort. At best, I change myself for the better; at worst, nothing happens.
There's nothing in this world that's as safe a bet as that.
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| Pagan Blog Project |
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Friday, March 23, 2012
Four Sons of Heru (PBP)
Today's post is exciting because I got to learn something new! I feel like I've got a good grasp on Kemeticism now, but there's so much to it – so much history, so many stories – that I still run into things I know little or nothing about. And that will likely remain true for quite a while!
While pondering what to write about this week and not having much luck (seriously, you wouldn't think the letter F would be so difficult!), I came across the phrase "The Four Sons of Horus/Heru." (Horus is his better known Greek name, but I'll refer to him as Heru since I prefer to use the Netjeru's Egyptian names.) I had no idea who these sons were, or what they were about, so I figured I'd do a bit of research and write about them for this week.
Turns out these Four Sons of Heru are those fancy dudes whose heads adorn the canopic jars. You know, those things they put your guts in when you were mummified. Considering all of the care the ancient Egyptians put into preserving a body as part of ensuring a happy afterlife, it's no surprise that these gods were charged with protecting the organs their jars housed, as well as helping the departed reach the Duat – the other world. In fact, it was apparently such a big deal that The Four Sons of Heru were each protected in turn by a goddess.
Now allow me to introduce you to the Sons of Heru:
There's Duamutef, who is depicted as a jackal-headed mummified man. His jar held the stomach, and his protector is Nit (Neith).
Qebehsenuef is a hawk-headed mummified man whose jar held the intestines. He is protected by Serqet (Selket).
Imsety is a mummified man whose jar held the liver, and his protector is Aset (Isis).
Hapy is depicted as baboon-headed mummified man, and his jar held the lungs. He is protected by Nebt-het (Nephtys).
While pondering what to write about this week and not having much luck (seriously, you wouldn't think the letter F would be so difficult!), I came across the phrase "The Four Sons of Horus/Heru." (Horus is his better known Greek name, but I'll refer to him as Heru since I prefer to use the Netjeru's Egyptian names.) I had no idea who these sons were, or what they were about, so I figured I'd do a bit of research and write about them for this week.
Turns out these Four Sons of Heru are those fancy dudes whose heads adorn the canopic jars. You know, those things they put your guts in when you were mummified. Considering all of the care the ancient Egyptians put into preserving a body as part of ensuring a happy afterlife, it's no surprise that these gods were charged with protecting the organs their jars housed, as well as helping the departed reach the Duat – the other world. In fact, it was apparently such a big deal that The Four Sons of Heru were each protected in turn by a goddess.
. | |
| Imsety, Hapy, Duamutef, and Qebehsenuef photo from http://www.thefakebusters.com/ |
Now allow me to introduce you to the Sons of Heru:
There's Duamutef, who is depicted as a jackal-headed mummified man. His jar held the stomach, and his protector is Nit (Neith).
Qebehsenuef is a hawk-headed mummified man whose jar held the intestines. He is protected by Serqet (Selket).
Imsety is a mummified man whose jar held the liver, and his protector is Aset (Isis).
Hapy is depicted as baboon-headed mummified man, and his jar held the lungs. He is protected by Nebt-het (Nephtys).
- Pyramid Texts Utterance 545O Children of Horus, Hapy, Duamutef, Imsety, Kebhsenuf, lift up your father this Osiris the King and guide him. O Osiris the King, it is caused that you be restored and that your mouth be split open, so stand up!
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| Pagan Blog Project |
Friday, March 9, 2012
Eating Onions With Bast (PBP)
Sunday was the Day of Chewing Onions for Bast. All I really knew about the festival going into it was that back in Ancient Egypt, red onions would be grilled and eaten in honor of Bast. But why onions? Why red onions? One of my fellow Kemetics suggested that an onion’s shape could compared to the sun, and that the red onion’s color could represent a rising sun or setting sun specifically. I wasn't able to find much info beyond that, but whether or not that was the case, the symbolism of the sun is certainly fitting for a solar goddess like Bast.
Yes, I know that eating onions doesn’t sound all that exciting. But at that point, I hadn't celebrated a Kemetic holiday before, and I was eager to change that. There's also the fact that Bast is a deity I’ve long admired, and so far the Netjeru I work most closely with, so it seemed like the perfect festival to start with. If nothing else, the Day of Chewing Onions would be a good excuse to perform a special ceremony for her.
I had originally planned on celebrating the day alone, but decided that it would be more festive if I shared the experience with some of my closest friends. We gathered at a friend’s house, where I set up a temporary shrine, prepared some tasty food for everyone to share, and roasted some onions. When everything was ready, the ceremony began; the candle and incense were lit, and a little feast for Bast was offered.
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| Offerings for Bast: Roasted red onions (obviously), bruschetta, hummus with a pita and carrot, trail mix, an orange, a chocolate cookie, water, mead, and rum. |
I offer to Bast, Eye of Ra.
All life emanates from you,
all health emanates from you,
all stability emanates from you,
all good fortune emanates from you,
O Lady of Perfumes, Bast, forever.
I was more nervous about performing the ceremony than I should have been, but this was the first Kemetic ceremony I had ever performed for anyone other than myself and the gods. Luckily, everything seemed to go well. After we were done stuffing our faces, my friends and I topped off the festive day with several games of laser tag.
I can honestly say that was the best Day of Chewing Onions for Bast I have ever celebrated!
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| Pagan Blog Project |
Friday, February 24, 2012
Dolmen: A Story and a Soapbox (PBP)
About six and a half years ago, I found myself in one of the most magical places in the world; a small farm nestled atop the bluffs of Southeastern Minnesota. It was dawn, and I, in the company of my teacher and three fellow students, stood on a grassy peak that overlooked the farm, the ravine below, and the rolling, forested landscape that lay beyond. Everything was obscured by mist, making even the rising sun just a soft blur of light. For a long time we stood there, watching the sun climb higher as the mist dissipated.
Then we got to work. We had a dolmen to build!
Only weeks before, I had joined a Celtic polytheist temple, and didn’t even know what a dolmen was. My newfound teacher had been hatching plans to build one for a friend of his, and was determined to get his new students in on the action. His initial explanation was as simple as, “you know what Stonehenge is? Well, it'll be like that, but smaller.” He went on to explain that they were places of great spiritual power, often thought to be tombs, as well as homes to the spirits, and gateways to the Otherworld. Dolmens are often aligned with significant solar events, such as sunrises/sunsets on equinoxes and solstices. Our own dolmen was measured it to align to the sunrise on Samhain, and was dedicated to the spirits of those who have been victims of torture and war, so they would have a peaceful place to rest.
And here it is, the Great Minnesota Dolmen:
As I was writing this post the other day, it came to my attention that Houston County (where the dolmen was built) is the latest target of mining companies for frac sand mining, a practice that has a horrific ecological impact. I hope that any of you who’ve taken the time to read this post will check out this website for more information, and sign the petition to stop the mining and protect the land: http://www.sandpointtimes.com/houston/
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| Pagan Blog Project |
Friday, February 10, 2012
Crows of Battle (Pagan Blog Project)
Since delving into Kemetic religion a few months ago, I have to some extent set aside my Celtic devotions. It wasn’t entirely unintentional, since I wanted to fully devote myself to this new experience and learn all I could about the Egyptian gods and practices. I know that the Deithe (the gods) are still there, that they are patient, but sometimes I feel bad for neglecting them. Especially Morrighan, The Great Queen, and An Badb Cath, The Battle Crow, as they are the gods I am closest to, and the gods who have helped me become the person that I am now. I know it’s not the grandest of gestures, but I thought I’d devote a post to these amazing goddesses and what they have given me.
First there’s Morrighan, who I sometimes affectionately refer to as “the first half of my patron.” She can be aloof or distant in that she doesn’t come knocking on my brain telling me what she wants. It’s almost like she expects her devotees to know what is required of them. She is The Great Queen, after all, and a queen can always expect to be treated with the honor she deserves. Yet more than anything, what distinguishes Morrighan is a certain coolness she has about her, wrapped around a quiet, unyielding strength.
My relationship to her has always been an interesting one…. I never felt intimidated or put off by her as I know some people are, but she certainly wasn’t waiting for me with a smile and a hug. I think the best way I can describe it is as a relationship between a child and a stern parent. Yes, she cares; she is there to guide, to give advice… but she sure as hell isn’t going to coddle me. I had a strict and stifling Catholic upbringing, and was thus instilled with toxic levels of meekness and shame. Morrighan has been my antidote to this. She doesn't let me pout or feel sorry for myself. She tells me to stand up, and it was with her help that I found my confidence and am learning my self-worth.
If Morrighan is my stern parent, then An Badb Cath (the other half of my patron) is my wild aunt. If Morrighan is the calm before the storm, The Red-mouthed Badb is the electricity that you can feel in the air and makes your hair stand up on end. She is ecstatic rage; unbridled, untamable, unpredictable passionate energy. She wants nothing more than for me to express myself. And by “express myself,” I don’t mean “express my happy feelings with finger paints.” I’m talking about those nasty, ugly feelings, the ones that people are discouraged from having, much less expressing. Not only did she teach me that it is ok to be angry (which was a revolutionary idea to me with the way I was raised), she taught me that it is ok to let myself feel it. Instead of being ashamed of my feelings and hiding them in some dark corner of my soul where they would fester and grow until they consumed me, I learned to accept them, to look at them objectively and allow them to run their course.
To me, these goddesses are proof that you can’t deny what is ugly and unpleasant in your life or yourself. You have to face those things, embrace them even. The world is made up of night and day, dark and light. They certainly aren’t happy, cuddly goddesses, but it is because of their lessons that I am as whole and happy a person as I am today. Because of this, I know what wherever my spiritual path leads, I will always have a place in my heart for the Crows of Battle.
First there’s Morrighan, who I sometimes affectionately refer to as “the first half of my patron.” She can be aloof or distant in that she doesn’t come knocking on my brain telling me what she wants. It’s almost like she expects her devotees to know what is required of them. She is The Great Queen, after all, and a queen can always expect to be treated with the honor she deserves. Yet more than anything, what distinguishes Morrighan is a certain coolness she has about her, wrapped around a quiet, unyielding strength.
My relationship to her has always been an interesting one…. I never felt intimidated or put off by her as I know some people are, but she certainly wasn’t waiting for me with a smile and a hug. I think the best way I can describe it is as a relationship between a child and a stern parent. Yes, she cares; she is there to guide, to give advice… but she sure as hell isn’t going to coddle me. I had a strict and stifling Catholic upbringing, and was thus instilled with toxic levels of meekness and shame. Morrighan has been my antidote to this. She doesn't let me pout or feel sorry for myself. She tells me to stand up, and it was with her help that I found my confidence and am learning my self-worth.
If Morrighan is my stern parent, then An Badb Cath (the other half of my patron) is my wild aunt. If Morrighan is the calm before the storm, The Red-mouthed Badb is the electricity that you can feel in the air and makes your hair stand up on end. She is ecstatic rage; unbridled, untamable, unpredictable passionate energy. She wants nothing more than for me to express myself. And by “express myself,” I don’t mean “express my happy feelings with finger paints.” I’m talking about those nasty, ugly feelings, the ones that people are discouraged from having, much less expressing. Not only did she teach me that it is ok to be angry (which was a revolutionary idea to me with the way I was raised), she taught me that it is ok to let myself feel it. Instead of being ashamed of my feelings and hiding them in some dark corner of my soul where they would fester and grow until they consumed me, I learned to accept them, to look at them objectively and allow them to run their course.
To me, these goddesses are proof that you can’t deny what is ugly and unpleasant in your life or yourself. You have to face those things, embrace them even. The world is made up of night and day, dark and light. They certainly aren’t happy, cuddly goddesses, but it is because of their lessons that I am as whole and happy a person as I am today. Because of this, I know what wherever my spiritual path leads, I will always have a place in my heart for the Crows of Battle.
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| Pagan Blog Project |
Thursday, January 19, 2012
RPD, Anyone?
My beginner’s course is over, and I’ve decided to become a Remetj of Kemetic Orthodoxy and undertake the Rite of Parent Divination. Part of me wishes I could say that I struggled with those decisions, that I thought long and hard about them before coming to some great understanding that I lacked before. But I have to say, they were two easy decisions to make.
I like KO. I like what it is all about, I like the people I’ve met, and I like performing Senut. I really feel that it is a place I fit in spiritually, and being a Remetj gives me that place without requiring any of the ties that comes with official conversion or vows. So why not become a Remetj, a friend of the faith? I’ve got no answers for that one.
I like KO. I like what it is all about, I like the people I’ve met, and I like performing Senut. I really feel that it is a place I fit in spiritually, and being a Remetj gives me that place without requiring any of the ties that comes with official conversion or vows. So why not become a Remetj, a friend of the faith? I’ve got no answers for that one.
As for the RPD, there was never a doubt in my mind that I wanted it done. Yet Hemet (AUS) has advised those of us in the beginner’s course not to rush into the decision, so I’ve tried stepping back and giving the matter a closer look.
I am immensely curious about the RPD. It might sound bad to say, but that curiosity is the driving force behind my decision. While there are Netjeru who I am close to now, I don’t feel anxious about the prospect of not having them show up in the divination. But who will show up? Will it be one of the gods that I am currently familiar with, or someone completely unexpected? Will they in any way reflect the Celtic gods that I am close to, and if so, how? Most of all, I want to see if my RPD is on the mark. Will I have, or find, a connection to those deemed to be my Parents and Beloveds? Will I see something of myself in them? Or something that I want to become?
I should say at this point that I don’t see the RPD as something that I need. I know that I would be able to find a patron (or Parent, if you will) and build strong relationships with the Netjeru on my own. So why bother? Because the RPD is like advice, is suppose, and I see no point in refusing advise if it is offered. I intend to take it to heart, to see where it leads me and what I can glean from it. Yet in the end, RPD or no, the relationships that I cultivate and how I choose to do so is up to me, and me alone.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Bjorn
Call me a grinch, but my favourite part of Christmas is when it's over. Whether or not any of you feel the same way, I thought I'd share something a little lighthearted today. While the following short film is not Celtic or Kemetic, it is Pagan enough, and super-duper enjoyable. So... enjoy!
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