Many of my readers will be familiar with the idea of pagan prayerbeads — it’s a concept that’s been around for some time. I first recall considering constructing a set of my very own way back when, when things were not well between Poseidon and I. I never did, for a number of reasons: I run hot and cold when it comes to formalized prayers (it really depends on the time of year); I could never decide how I wanted them to be; gemstones and crystals and I don’t often get on; there is an organic, spontaneous element to my devotional practice that I didn’t see prayer beads fitting with; my reluctance to have stuff cluttering up my religious practice with my god. The list can go on and on, and at the end of the day what it amounts to is: the time was never right. Many times I’d accompany Beth to our local gem and bead fair with an eye toward finally getting the material to construct a set of my own (or have Beth construct) but I always seem to leave those fairs overwhelmed, over-stimulated, and empty handed. I’d put them out of my mind entirely a few years ago.
Rereading Walking the Heart Road is doing a great number of good things for me, the least of which is, it has me returning to concepts or ideas I’ve either previously had or have previously been exposed to. In the book, Silence talks a bit about prayer beads, and how the habit of reciting prayers along with the physical strand of beads can be beneficial. (I’m so paraphrasing here, by the by.) Reading this at this time put me in mind of the song that I sing for Poseidon that I wrote over twelve years ago. It’s part of my morning routine, part of my ‘girding my loins’ and gearing up to go out into the world. I wondered how I might set it to a prayer bead set. (So far, I still haven’t. It really works best as a song).
Anyway. I went with Beth on Saturday with the idea that I’d look for beads. We’d purchased a charm the week prior, because I knew I wanted to get this going, but I wasn’t holding out hope that I’d find anything. I was really going to find some wooden beads, because I wanted the strand to be wooden — gems and I don’t get on, you remember. And, I found wooden beads that work. But I also found these glass beads. Electroplated crystal beads, even. The booth selling them had shiny ones, and translucent-frosty ones. And the translucent frosty ones? Look, in person, like you’re seeing sunlight being filtered through the ocean. They look like you’re looking at sunlight glancing off the waves, or like you’re underwater, looking up.
I went back to this booth three times before I bought them. Beads don’t speak to me like this. I was utterly captivated by their glimmering as they moved. They were absolutely perfect.
I wish wish wish that I could capture the play of light across these beads. Maybe I’ll try making a video one day. For now, the bottom photo shows the best range of the colors that the electroplated beads go through — they are all the same type of bead, those eight, and they are all the same color, but oh, the gorgeous things they do as they move around. They are to me the ocean, captured in bead form. They are simply perfect. I am so pleased with them.
The idea behind them is pretty simple: eight “prayer” beads with the wooden beads acting as spacers. I don’t have set prayers to these beads yet. Mostly I’ve been pulling them out, running them through my hands, and doing “Hail to thee, Poseidon,” as I went. He seems mostly bemused about it, and we are all of us so pleased that I am so pleased with the look and feel of the set. I don’t often get so enamored of a physical item that is neither a book nor an animal, so this is an interesting experience. As the maker of the beads, Beth is also pleased.
I am glad I waited. I’m glad I didn’t rush this process. I’m glad these are the Poseidon prayer beads I’ve ended up with.
And, we liked the beads so much, Beth bought a strand of them with an eye toward making some for the store!