Kindling the Spirit

Passion is something that I try to have in every aspect in my life. The truth is, I grow bored easily. I get bored with people, with ideas, with places. With a mind like mine – one that is constantly whirring and spinning with words, pictures, and desires – boredom is my antithesis.

But how can I cultivate passion in my day-to-day religion and spirituality? That is something I struggle with. I spend most of my days in my own head, pursuing thoughts and ideas within the landscape of my mind. But, lately, I’ve been growing bored again. My fingers are beginning to itch with a desire to do something. Once more, I am finding myself wanting to “spice up” my religion and spirituality.

Perhaps that is what draws me to Kemeticism. It’s something new(ish) to me and fascinating, but it also gives me a general framework, of sorts, within which to do things. But, even so, Kemeticism is not the only thing in my religious life.

I’ve written before on my nature spirituality and my love for the land, on how driving and navigating this new landscape of mine has helped me begin to connect to it.

But with the birth of new summer, I find myself wanting to get out more, to do things. I need to get out and get my hands dirty. For so long, I’ve wanted to get more active in my religious life and, now, I’m beginning to do that. This week, I’ve been taking the first few steps by looking again into the Pagan community here in Virginia. My participation in the open circle last week, though I refuse any flavor of Wicca for my own practice, reminded me of what it was like to get involved in a community, to be a part of something. That led me to returning to my writing group last night, which, in turn, rekindled something inside me.

For the last few months, I have felt lost again, as I did when Anubis left over a year ago. But, unlike last time, I could feel his presence and the growing presence of the other deities I work with. Still, that sense of uncertainty and being lost has been plaguing me for months. But as I sat here today, thinking on what to write about for my blog, I found myself thinking of that moment in The Forest when I plunged my hand into my chest and pulled out a tiny flame.

And, in that moment, I knew what I had to do: I had to rekindle my spirit.b

So that is the theme of my summer: I must pursue the fire and let it burn me, let it clear the dried up, old, and useless parts of me and my life; I must become the dying phoenix and burn away to birth the new fledgling with its scarlet plumage; I must undergo the trial by fire, willingly, and embrace the heat and searing that it will put me through.

The more I write about this, the more I begin to realize how right it is. The more signs that I have missed begin to settle into the puzzle that I have been piecing together, its picture not making sense until these very moments. Even my draw to Kemeticism this year, a religion born from the searing sands of the desert, lets me know this is the right path for me.

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