For the last two years, I have had an exceedingly rocky, shaky, uncertain relationship with the Lady of the Vulva. In fact, it has always felt like the connection between us was ready to snap. This is a classic case of a god coming into our lives and saying, now, you are ready. And the response was a defiant attitude-filled: “Oh, hell no!” I felt like I was being thrown off the cliff LONG before I was ready. After munch haranguing, sulking, whining, and attitude, I resigned myself to having Hetharu in my life.
So, in the last two years, she has sat unwanted on my various incarnations of altars. She has stood silently beside Sekhmet. She has stood quietly on her own table. And today, she stands again beside Sekhmet. In my altar’s current incarnation, it stands in the middle of the dining area in plane sight. As I pay obeisance to Papa Legba and Sekhmet, her eyes follow my every move and every thought. Patience is her game and not mine. It is at this point that we find ourselves.
Today, I took a bath with the intention of connecting to Sekhmet again. I had been very pleased with my success from my last trial. Instead of being able to focus on anything Sekhmet related, from lions to desert sands, I found my thoughts on a beautiful cow’s head poking through the reeds. It’s a common enough picture of Hetharu. It took me by surprise but I went with it. If my mind saw a cow, celestial cow etchings, the pin I bought for her, and related things then that was what my mind needed to focus on.
What followed could be imagination, divine communication, or a mix thereof.
You only see me as one dimensional. I am many things. You must connect with me on all these levels. There is magic here. There is sex and sensuality here. And there is motherhood here. This is the problem.
After that stilted bit, I saw an image in my mind’s eye. In it was a long table, either the top of a credenza or a desk or something. There was a plain, white table runner across its center. In the middle stood a blurry representation of Bes. (Blurry since it hasn’t been realized yet?) To his left and my right was my statue of Hetharu. As the image solidified, I saw snatches of candles in various holders. I saw a plate and a cup. I saw extra items stored in drawers in the front of the credenza/desk. This cherry finished piece of furniture was pressed against an off-white wall. A family altar space… I belong here. I belong in the place where your daily rites for home and hearth will be performed.
Instantly, I sat bolt upright in the tub.
This image, this information has been percolating for a while in the back of my mind. You see, a while back, I read an article that Mrs. B from Confessions of a Pagan Soccer Mom had posted up via her Twitter account. The article, Desiring a Sanctified Home, was all about rituals for the home and how Hellenic polytheists tend to be more in tune with such things. It was very interesting and got me thinking… which is partly why my PBP this last week was on Bes, as opposed to belief. I need to start thinking about the home and hearth. …And obviously, my connection with Hetharu must be thought about along similar vein (as well as consign her many aspects to how I see her).
Since I read the article before this incident, it was home and hearth that caught my interest and brain juices first. (Besides, it’s pretty obvious that an ‘H Is For Hetharu’ entry in the PBP will be forthcoming.)
The issue (besides space and limited funds) is that in a home ritual aspect, I would prefer to remain closer to Kemetism than anything else. Aside from the knowledge that the ancient Egyptians had shrines in their homes, we don’t know much about what sort of daily rites they may have performed. And while the senut ritual I have appropriated from Eternal Egypt is exceptionally fitting for a singular nod to my singular lady, I don’t feel that it is what is needed in this case. Since I have performed this rite with Hetharu, I can say with a good deal of confidence that it is not what she wants, what I want, or what would be best to (a) help our tattered relationship nor (b) hold closely with delusions of grandiose hearth-related rituals.
And now: stumped.
My problems are not insurmountable. They’ll just take some time, thought, and far more space.