Autumn is a time of reflection in my life, both on spiritual and mundane matters. I spend most of my days going over the details of my life, thinking on what needs changing and what has been working; I debate what I feel is missing in my spirituality and figure out how to incorporate it.
In the past, I have usually felt my spiritual path to be lacking in many regards. It has felt stale, lackluster, like the core of it has been missing. For awhile, it seemed like I couldn’t even go through the motions.
These days, though, as I reflect on my path and the developments of the last year, I feel more satisfied with my path. I make offerings semi-regularly, listen when my gods send signs and speak to me, and write on my path, connecting with others as I do so. Yet, something still seems missing.
Since August, I have adopted Kemetic practices. I decided to spend a year on this path to see if it was for me or not, and I still plan to do that. However, other areas of my spirituality are lacking. Yesterday, as I drove home, I got off an exit early and found myself driving through a construction area, the same one I drove through when a hawk flew half a yard before my car window. Yesterday, though, I saw a raven. Huge, with its front ruff and dark feathers, pausing in the lot before walking towards my car before I had to drive off. Today, too, I caught sight of another huge raven on the side of the road, staring at my car. These are signs to me, signs to pay closer attention to. Tomorrow, as I drive my route, I will pay attention and look for the final bird, the third sign.
The most important aspect of our paths is to walk them. Just talking, just thinking, just writing about it on the internet or in journals isn’t all there is to it. If you commit to it, you must walk it. The path, whatever yours may be, is meant to be walked. That is its purpose – and yours, if you choose.