Every year this seems to come as a surprise. The days grow longer and cooler. Clouds return to the skies (though we’re not seeing much rain, as of yet.) Every year it seems to happen sooner, this longing within for quiet, for solitude. I almost feel fragile, like a need to be swathed in cotton wool and held still, but really it’s a desire for stillness, for cold, for dark. It’s not depression or melancholia, exactly. It’s just that the press of the world going on around me is too uncomfortable.
It’s happening again. The days are flying by. The day job is less stressful than it’s been in a long time, and I’m grateful for that. I’ve got two part time jobs on top of that, and still trying to figure out how to function on less sleep so I can get more writing done, while realizing that part of how I deal with this is by sleeping more. The end of September is soon, and we’re going to be marking 8th anniversary of Angel’s passing, which is always heavy, and made heavier by his nearness.
Add to this, Poseidon is pressing heavy upon incorporating more of myself into this Hunt season, incorporating more of u/Us into this Hunt season. I can’t fight that. I don’t want to fight that. I need to stop pretending that I can do it all. I have this drive to write regularly — to share the worship of Poseidon with any who happen to find this blog — but I’m releasing the need to have it scheduled and organized and regular. I can’t make it be less personal — that’s not the point. In my mind, I envision posts about rituals I hold in His honor, and essays about working with Him, and I want that, I do. But it’s not going to be all the time, and at the very, very least, the pressure needs to go. Self-inflicted pressure.
I’ve friends and acquaintances who are concerned with their paths continuing on, who are concerned with building traditions. It’s exciting to hear them speak of it, and it’s easy to want that, too! I understand. I appreciate their work, and most of the time, I can contribute, with support if with nothing else. Thinking about this yesterday (I was reading an article, I forget what exactly), I realized, or remembered, or re-articulated. I want to share my path with the world because I can, and because I want there to be options presented to people on how one can walk with the spirits in this world, and I respect the desire people have to keep their traditions going . . . but my tradition is my hearth-tradition. When my family is gone, so too will our tradition be gone. We’re not trying to pass it on to our children. I don’t *want* my understanding of Poseidon, my relationship with Him, to be a foundation that others build upon. I want them to be able to build their own.
Friends have not placed expectations upon me; I’ve placed them upon myself. I don’t want them, and I’m setting them down. I’m also setting down my world-awareness-at-the-expense-of-my-inner-world. I’ve allowed myself to become less and less secluded. I want to not retreat fully into my bubble, but I’m setting aside the pressure. I’m giving myself the space to breathe and embrace this Dark.
I feel Homesick, in a way that I know only my spirits can help.
So — if I’m even more quiet than usual, this is why.