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.
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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