I didn’t actually look at the time when I grasped frantically for the candles. With shaking hands I cleared away the remnants of the last tealight, lighting the new one as I whisper His name.
Hear me, Hermes! Hear me, my Beloved. Hear my prayer and be with me.
The prayer itself is wordless. It’s really an outpouring of emotion into the void, so to speak. I need Him to feel what I am feeling. I need to feel Him in return. As I sat, chatting with a beloved friend, I would look at the candle from time to time. It helped reduce the panic. Life is heavy right now. The lows are payment for the highs. Or at least the balance to the highs.
I had not intended to keep a candle burning all day but when I discovered the first had burnt out I felt compelled to light another. And so I have all day. Lighting another as soon as one goes out. I always figured I didn’t have time for proper vigils but this impromtu one has proven otherwise. Vigils work perfectly well if you aren’t there every second.
Hail to Hermes. My Beloved God. May He always be remembered. May He always have a spark burning.
I promised Hermes a permanent shrine once we moved. That was in May. I’ve been thinking about it a lot but was, admittedly, procrastinating.
An opportunity to provide a ritual service for Him on behalf of another presented itself. Through that service I aquired this beautiful wooden shrine box in gratitude. I am overwhelmed by this gift.
I finally felt that it was time to light it up. It was a very rough day on every possible level. My Beloved Psychopomp was very close to me today. I felt His warm hands upon my heart.
I sing the praises of my Beloved Hermes. May His name forever be spoken. May His grace touch us all.
Redid the altar because it was a bit of a disaster. Also other reasons that will be brought up in a later post. Enjoy!
New addition to the altar. A necklace given to me by an anam cara when I went into recovery. I can’t bear to have it against my skin, there’s all sorts of emotional baggage attached, particularly since this person has passed on. But it needed a place of prominence.
(The cord behind it was a custom order from Beth Wodanis)
In all the photo’s I’ve ever shared the altar has been immaculate. Everything dusted and places just so. In real life it only looks like that for about a week. Then the odds and ends of actually living my Path start to accumulate.
Jars of herbs and resins to be burned, charcoal wrapped in foil, the dirty tongs I use to light the charcoal, the ashes I spill. Combine what I call a working or living altar(this meaning one that is used not just up show or not to be disturbed like a shrine), with work and family life and things get messy.
I’m not exactly happy about it’s current state. As soon as I can save up a spoon it will be cleaned. It takes a good 45 minutes since I clean the mirror and treat the wood with spray cleaner/protector. I’ve had the armour since I was about seven years old.
I’m quite proud of myself. I’ve never been good at regular practice. The Gods are constantly in my thoughts but actual physical ritual has never been something done regularly. A few weeks back I switched from stick incense back to charcoal discs. The whole act of getting the disc lit, sprinkling the powdered incense on, the way the smoke billows up; I love it and so do They. In my studies for Greek and Roman Paganism I gathered that the Gods are particularly fond of the physical act of burning offerings. This has kept me at it with the charcoal. It’s been a week now that I’ve remembered and made the time to stand in front of my altar, give my burnt offerings and prayers, every day. The Gods are quite pleased and so am I.