Here comes the rain again . . .

August came and went, and with it went the dry season. On the one hand, I made it out to the coast, ventured to dip my toes into Crater Lake and kiss the sky, and we had a house guest for a portion of the month. On the other hand, the season for my Poseidon of the Ponds festival came and went, unmarked. The point of this festival is to offer of one’s self, to the Rainmakers, during the dry season. I could feel like a huge failure for not marking that day, and when I’m being honest I’ll tell you that I’m tempted to. But, again and again and again Poseidon brings me back to this one truth, and this one truth is: the festivals are for me. They are things I want to do, for Him, in His honor, in His praise, but they have never been anything that He has asked me to do. The things He has consistently asked, cajoled, demanded, wheedled, insisted from me?

Compassion. Awareness. Healing.

I’ve eased up on writing here lately, in part because I’ve been working on the novel — and that’s actually been going very well. Building up momentum is an important part of starting new projects. But also in part I’ve neglected this blog because I’ve decided that I want to be writing more about Him and less about me, which means, big spreads and offerings and libations and photos and recaps and less about day to day living with my god in my mind.

Which is why I’m back to dusting this off, again. Because try as I might, that never works. The internal poking and prodding, reflection, considering, contemplation, etc., is all part of Life With Poseidon.


September is nearly spent. Today I went with Beth to one of our city’s oldest cemeteries and spent some time with dead, especially the veterans. The day marks a renewal of oaths for her, and we have some overlap with some of the Hunt stuff, but not a lot, so I was mostly there to witness. I find that I have . . . not rules that are more or less strict, just different in what I am allowed to do with the dead that is not strictly speaking my kin. Which is an interesting thing to come to understand. September has been horribly unkind to many people in my awareness, loved ones and their kin, acquaintances from ages ago, once-friends, and all in between. Life has spared me any cause for immediate bereavement this September, but it hovers on the edge of my periphery just the same. Once one has been ushered into the Mysteries of Death, no death happens alone any longer, and September has been exceptionally taxing on us.

This Hunt season and Yuletide will, I hope, not be quite as devastating as last years.


There has been a slight change in my daily devotions with Poseidon, with huge and wonderful, and unexpectedly so, benefits, and I’m adjusting to that. I am newly aware, all over again, at how wonderful my god is, how deeply I am blessed, how much I adore Him. Through all the ups and downs, He is steadfast.


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