Durga is kind . . . . and requests tea.

There’s continuing — I hesitate to use the word ‘pressure’ here, because that implies a press of urgency/impatience that is not present–encouragement? awareness-brought-to-the-fact? requests? reminders? I’ll go with reminders, that Durga does, in fact, want a tea cup. More, while She witnesses the right and proper sharing of tea between Poseidon and me, She wants Her very own. So far, it seems as though She wants green tea, with floral notes. It appears as though She’d prefer Her own tea assessories, set aside for Their usage.

I’ll admit, this is strange territory for me. I’m a low-church, practical-usage, paraphernalia-light sort of devotional polytheist, and tools and artifacts set aside solely for Their usage is very high-church, ritualistic, paraphernalia-heavy sort of thing. I’m all for having a certain cup  in my cupboard that is for a guest, because that guest prefers that cup — but I’m going to use that cup when the guest isn’t here, especially since we don’t, generally speaking, have more than the amount of cups we strictly need on any given basis.   (We own three mugs at the moment — one for Beth, one for me, one for Corbie) (he has a thing for drinking out of mugs, it’s a fun game, a treat, and  he’s not always willing to drink as much as we like, when it’s hot) so, for example, when g-c is out with her main squeeze in two months (!!!!!) we’re going to have to do some shopping. Having things just for Them is . . . not something I’ve ever before really encouraged. (Some might say I’m a bad polytheist  because of this. I’d argue that I’m definitely a bad high-church ritualist. I can do it, and I can do it well, but it’s never really had a place in my home space or private devotions before.)

Tea cup hunting is happening this weekend. I already own a small teapot that I could dedicate to Her service. (See what I did there?)  It’s plain and brown, and it’s my very first teapot, and if any of the teapots I have could be considered prized possessions, it’s this one. It came from a dear, dear friend, all the way from England, during our initial getting-back-in-touch after too long of having fallen out of touch. I’m not a thing person, but if this one ever  breaks, I’m probably going to cry.

But, tea cup first and foremost, because one can brew a single cup well enough in a tea cup — that’s what we do, after all. As shrine space allows, They may get individual cups, but only She is visiting currently.

And that’s another neat thing that’s happening. Poseidon does not live on or in His shrine. His shrine, more than anything else, is a focal point and a representation of our relationship, a focal reminder of Him being the center of my life. Odin’s is very much the same thing — He’s not quite the center of my life, but just left of center, and neither does He reside there. With Durga, and Their shrine . . . It’s certainly where She is residing within our house. It feels like that’s Her room and seat of honor, at the same time, and it’s a neat experience, because it’s different. Not more real. Not more tangible. Not more anything, just different. (I’ll admit, I feared that They’d feel more real to me, in the way that some of Them sometimes do. Poseidon feels extremely real to me, but at the same time, He is, or can be, like water you’re trying to cup in your hands, and I never know if that’s His nature, or if that’s due to not as much worship over the years, thus having a harder time getting through to our perceptions. Anyway. Not the case, thus far. Just different.)

#

It’s raining today. Walk to the river is postponed for now. Been doing it every week, and it’s been helping. Yesterday I finally made my dr appointment, so that’s happening on Friday, and Beth is coming with in case I get into one of my ‘don’t talk about it, don’t bring attention to it, everything is totes fine.’ phases.  So next week should be better. It’s been so interesting to what my black mood rolling over me in waves and side-stepping the emotional investment into it. The vitamin supplements have helped with my anxiety and my attachment to the emotions, and have allowed for a better perspective of how not okay I am. I would never, never expect anyone else to deal with this without help — without pharmaceutical help. Yes, I can watch my moods go high and low, and yes I can watch the baseline blue pervade most of my feelings, and yes, it’s good to be able to achieve that not-attachment to your emotions when you need to, but the downside is, because it happens so much, it’s hard to allow myself to experience the pleasant emotions, as well. I feel them, I watch them, but . . . it’s exhausting, being on high alert all the time. With the anxiety under control, or at least under control enough, I can say, this is fucked up, that I’d try to do this on my own. I have been, for a decade. But the tools in place are not enough right now, and so . . . yeah.  I always expect less empathy than I get, from my doctor, and if there is judging on this, that’s on her, not on me. (There won’t be. She’s got a beat on fatness, but that’s her own thing, and this is not that anyway.)

 

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