Since I’m moving slowly and quickly today, I am not feeling the call to write something longer (yet) for this check-in.
But I will offer a small piece of writing that I’m so darn happy with, though it will not be seen for a while in print. *shakes fist at publishing schedules*
I want to offer a glimpse into something that has filled me in ways I didn’t realize I needed to be nourished. It was not written for me, and it was.
It is a piece that seeks to poke at wounds and empower the healing process.
With Aphrodite, of course.
from my own work-in-progress
Not all temples will stay filled with the scent of worshipping. Not all shrines will hold relationships and connections that once knew the tone of your voice when you were scared. But love spells are everywhere. They are the whisper that you want more. They are the conversation you don’t want to have. They are the poems you can write about sunlight as it travels from space to the edge of your bed through the blinds. Love spells are cast from the inside of you, even if the chambers are dusty and the chants haven’t echoed off the walls in years.
You can reclaim yourself, make an ode to yourself. Remember your own sacred names. And call to Aphrodite if you ever forget again.
***
I hope this small glimpse offers your heart a little something.
I send love to you on this day of Her.
Hail Aphrodite.
Hail courageous, brave, and wild hearts of longing.
Worship deeply and often.
Let your names echo in the halls.