When I first entered the Pagan blogosphere a few years ago, I viewed it as a spiritual diary more than an informational blog. Though I closed that blog down nearly a year ago, I kept that idea of wanting a spiritual diary to share with others who walked a crooked or Pagan path. But, somewhere along the way, I lost sight of my intent here.
In my post “The Water Drop,” I touched on my discomfort with Kemeticism and how I was finding more comfort in the forest than in the desert. To say that the response to that post has been disheartening is putting it mildly. And so I began to mull on those feelings, that lethargy that came with my Kemetic investigation, and the longer I do, the more I feel that Kemeticism and I will not be. So, with that in mind, I have made the decision to refrain from posting any more regarding Kemeticism here on WordPress. While I will still discuss Anubis and my relationship with him, I will do so outside of the Kemetic framework that I have touched upon and discussed in the past. That venture will, from now on, be a private affair. As I committed to a year of Kemetic study, I will hold to my word, but it will no longer be for public consumption.
So where does that leave this blog?
If you have been paying attention, you might have noticed a difference in the blog here. We no longer find ourselves at The Crow and the Hound. Instead, we find ourselves at a crossroads. Or, rather, many crossroads.
Years ago, when I fell into a spiritual depression, I began to find myself in a place I have referred to as The Forest. If you look through the archives here, I have discussed those times now and then, my (mis)adventures there and the sensation of being lost in a wood with no direction. The new title of this blog is, as you may have guessed, inspired by this woodland. Partly, this is because I find myself, once again, lost within the dark forest of faith that I entered so long ago.
With this turn away from Kemeticism, I am unsure where I will go from here. For now, the altar is bare, the shelves below bearing the trinkets and statues I have collected over the years. Only a pair of candles stand sentinel, incense to clear the way, and my beloved Tarot deck sits in the middle, waiting to be used.
Once more, I find myself in The Forest, clearing muck from my bare feet as I survey the damage I have endured along this crooked path. Before me lies the road, brambles and brush growing beside it and over it, blocking me from passing on. But I am prepared this time, in a way that I was not a few years ago when I found myself in this position before. In one hand, I bear the lantern, lit with fire from my own breast; in the other, I bear a knife, wicked in its edge. Both are dedicated to the task, as I take the first and the newest step forward.