Let us be silent,
that we may hear
the whispers of the gods.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson—
A few weeks ago (and probably soon, given the time of the month), I found myself in a swirl of seafoam. The kind that reveals the rockiness of returning to places that know when we’ve been gone too long, even if we always come back.
Not quite frothing, but certainly bubbled and breaking down.
I used to hide from these moments, as though feelings, once met, return without requests or information.
As though turning your back on the water is ever a good idea.
The sneaker waves always find you.
The riptides are just beyond the easiest waters.
Love as Action, Not (Just) Feeling
These moments are recognizable in their sound and fury. Soaked to the bones, I can’t discern the difference between the water and my tears. So I let them both flow.
Drowning in these feelings has never felt helpful.
(Though it is good for writing poetry…)
I need to get up, move away, and drag myself away from that edge.
Love myself in the conjuring of my own safety, my own lifeboat, my own rescue mission.
Move - I go to the ocean when I’m so overwhelmed I can’t think straight. There’s something about the sound of water and walking by myself that helps me remember how I love myself when no one is around.
Sound - I will talk to myself or into a voice note. I will say all the things that I can’t say to anyone else. I will talk about the sadness, the anger, the stories, the injustices, the way things seem to be insufferable. How I am insufferable. And I will hear myself say these things. There’s something for me in saying it out loud. And never listening to the notes again.
Scribe - I write, of course. Sometimes, it is pointed and particular writing. Other times, I write down all the things I think I’m thinking and then I try to figure out why it’s so upsetting. What am I afraid of? What does this remind me of? Who does this remind me of? What do I think will happen? I don’t write for answers. I write for reality. This is what I know in these moments. My words curve around the confusion, and pull it ever closer. You can feel safe here. You don’t have to have it figured out.
Love - I love myself a little harder, a little more loudly. Sometimes, I even ask others to do the same for me. But I’m more focused these days on how I can love myself so well that I don’t have to rely on someone else to step in and swoop me up in their arms or words. (But I love myself by remembering that so many people will widen their lives and their arms for me, anytime. No questions asked.) I love myself by distracting myself. I love myself by feeding myself well. I love myself by letting feelings be feelings. I heart my selfies, my photos. I love myself by slowing down, letting go of things that can be let go of in the moment. I slow down long enough to let love wash over me.
And sometimes, it still doesn’t help me feel better. But love is like that. It’s not (just) a feeling. It’s the action of showing up for myself anyway. Even when I don’t know what to do or how to make it all better.
It’s about sitting by my own side, waiting until the feeling passes, and I remember. Waiting until the sun moves a little to the left, and I can feel the warmth of a world that invited me into this time.
Into this heart.
I am made of water. Of course, the waves come.
I will love myself in all the tides.
***
Wanna make some magick with me (and deities and humans)?
July 27 & 28: Pearl Pentacle - with Irisanya, Riyana & Stephen - Vallejo, CA
August 3 & 4: Iron Pentacle - with Irisanya & AManita - Santa Rosa, CA
Wanna hear some interviews I’ve done recently? You can listen to all of them here.
***
I invite you to take care of your beautiful, precious heart. Even when you can’t figure anything out. Especially then.
in love and magick,
Irisanya
I will love myself in all the tides.... My Goddess what a line 💖
Welcome water. The holy resonance of welcoming ourselves in all our parts.