It’s raining here in Seattle today, even as we draw near to the summer solstice. Someone shared this video on a Discord server I’m on; the rain was perfect accompaniment:
I am not always so observant with my devotionals as I might wish. But this begins most of my days.
Last week I was part of a ritual of reconnection with some dear friends–reconnection with each other, and with our gods.
A concept that has recurred widely in my reading of late is that of reciprocity. Reciprocity with the land where we live, reciprocity with the divine, reciprocity with each other. I think it’s the only way we might possibly make it.
I really like folk metal, but almost all of it that I find is from a small handful of countries, mostly northern Europe. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Korpiklaani, but I started wondering if there were any bands in the genre from Greece. V.I.C. isn’t metal exactly, but they’ve got a bit of that vibe. There’s a spookiness to other music I’ve heard from Epirus that I find really compelling and V.I.C. has that too. I hope to see and hear them in person someday.
One of my favorite books when I was younger was Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wind in the Door, a sequel to her A Wrinkle in Time. In it, there are microscopic beings who refuse to grow up, a process that for them is known as Deepening. Their failure to do so portends terrible consequences for the universe; one of A Wind in the Door’s remarkable achievements is a dizzying sense of scale that renders the macrocosmic and the microcosmic identical in scope.
Over time, I’ve come to interpret Deepening as depicted in that novel as the act of becoming fully yourself, and the places which enable this are Deepening Places. You become tied to these places; not necessarily physically as in the book, but certainly psychically. When you visit them, you know who you are, and you visit them with an intention of reinforcing who you are.
Here’s one of mine:
I’ve been thinking about how to write about my personal practice and what I shall call for lack of a better term spirituality, both of which have shifted drastically over the last three years and will continue to do so. I think perhaps a little piece at a time is the way to go.
I’ve been a fan of Daemonia Nymphe for a long time. I’ve only seen them live once, at an appearance at the now sadly no more Faerieworlds festival, which I’d attended that year specifically to see them. (No shade on Faerieworlds as a whole or the marvelous artists and participants who were part of it, but it was never quite my thing.)
As the Rite of Her Sacred Fires ritual continues to resonate in my being days later, more songs about Her are showing up in my listening. This one has a more somber vibe than the current season (it’s late spring/early summer here in the Cascadia Bioregion) but with the dark and torchlit path always looming behind my eyes, it feels like it’s always time for this song.
If you’re not familiar with the work of Sorita d’Este, her research, writing, and collaborations on Hekate worship and devotional ritual have been a lovely resource for me, particularly as my community connections have attenuated over the last few years. Her Rite of Her Sacred Fires is an annual occurrence in which I’ve regularly participated for the last several years, usually as a guest of a coven in the Tradition I still practice.
This year, in addition, I also participated in the ritual online presented by Sorita and Arabela Jade. The pandemic made for a lot of online rituals, a few of which I presented, but I have to say that this one was exceptionally well done. There’s a longer essay germinating about where my personal practice is going and what that means for this entity called Wild Gods, but it’s clear to me that whatever path it’s on is lit by Her torches.
Wild Gods 
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