I am living under cathedral skies. They convert me. By the end of summer my heart has been muted by endless perfect blue, and it's not that I don't believe in the divinity any more, but that my sense of my being part of the goddess-body has dried and crackled away beneath light and heat and peace, and my love for the wild-that-is-god, the trickster-king, is silenced. All I can hear is the fan whirring, making whatever storm I can just so it's possible to breathe through the relentless light and heat and peace.
But now autumn has come. Cold mornings, crowded skies, breezes. It brings back my spirituality with it. The king has transformed his fierce power to something deeper and more poetic. It's almost like he's learning balance. I can bear him now. And I can feel myself revitalising. When something is too much, we can not be enough in response. Coming into balance with each other requires not just being true to ourselves but also, oddly, being slightly less true too. Giving and letting go. Compromising.
I have to see this for myself, and tell the story on my own. There is not much intricacy available about the god for the pagan woman. We have many tales of the mother goddess' annual cycle, the way of the earth. But earth can not be without her sky, just as sky has no point without the earth. I love to consider the rise and maturation and sleep of the wild god in equal relationship with the blossoming and fullness and sleep of the goddess-who-is-us-all. I love to chronicle the seasons by how the clouds change, the colour of the sky changes, the moon takes new paths.
All through the times of the world, women have told soul-stories. Myths, wisdoms, fairytales. I know for millennia it has been men's voices that have spoken them, but so often the stories come first from the women - the mothers, nurses, herbalists, mitochondria, breastmilk, lullabies. Too often, women have passed on the messages of the patriarchy; but they have also been keepers of the older stories, household stories, tales of ordinary magic, true love instructions, seed & bread & hearthfire wisdom.
Lately our feminine voices have been able to speak directly and honestly, at least more than they were before. I hope we will hold a better balance than men have done. For instance, I hope we will tell the stories that give the mythic king a nuanced character, alongside the mythic great mother, just as our ancestresses did. I think it's a mistake to simply replace God with a Goddess. We'll never achieve balance and harmony if we can't let go of a little of ourselves to let the other in.