Papa-seidon

Reblogging because, despite the *ridiculous* names he calls me, this post is just . . . well? Well?

To read other people writing about Poseidon is a treat. To read their sweet words, to glean even the tiniest bit of their love for Him, to be allowed to see them Seeing Him . . . it makes me cry. I weep, that others know His presence. It’s silly, of course. People do. They know Him, have known Him, will know Him. I know I’m not the only one, I know people do, but to be able to see that, even in it’s smallest bit. It’s humbling and it’s beautiful. Hail, hail, oh hail, Poseidon.

Mud and Lightning

So, the other day, I read Jolene’s post about her relationship with Odin and some of it reminded me of my relationship with my own divine Papa, Poseidon. I thought I’d write about him a little, because as the inimitable Jo has said more than once, there’s not enough stuff out there about modern people who know him.

First thing to know is that as a Papa, he can be unbelievably gentle. Kind, generous with his time, resolutely will not let me listen to my brain weasels in his presence, but never in a way that makes me angry or upset. Gentle about it, but completely firm in that particular boundary, in a way that somehow doesn’t set off my deep seated knee jerk resistance to authority. (And he has authority in spades.) Just a quiet voice, saying No. You are not worthless. You are my son and I love…

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