Year 18 is now behind us. For the last day of the year, I drew a Tarot card from the Ancient Egyptian Tarot, which belongs to Wepwawet. He’s very consistent with the cards I draw from it, so I never have any doubts that He is indeed sending me a message through the cards. (Not always ones I expect either. The other day it was 5 of disks, which depicts a man in the middle of a dry river bed. Apparently this is the card that means “DRINK MORE WATER or you’re going to have bad leg cramps when you’re asleep!”) The card He gave me yesterday was the Tower. I even tweeted about it: very funny Dad. Hilarious even. So fitting as the year had its last gasp, completely fell apart and prepared to be cleared away for the new. In case you’re wondering, no I did not have a bad day yesterday.
My sister in jackal Sobeq is blogging about the Days Upon the Year as well, and has suggestions for practices here and here. If you’re looking for ideas of what to do over the next six days, check them out. Last year I posted small “happy birthday” messages for each Name. This year I am taking the hint from Sobeq and doing appropriate remembrances.
This morning I removed the deity statues from my year shrine, since I feel They are not longer appropriate to have out in such a fashion. Still continuing with the zep tepi theme, I am making things clear to bring in the year completely anew. Yesterday I set up a small shrine for the Epagomeal days. There are five candles ready in order for the five “birthdays,” and I have a set of oils from Of Ravens and Vultures to act as offerings to each Name on Their day.
For today: Happy birthday Wesir.
Wesir/Osiris by Temwaenbast
When it came time for me to honor Wesir, I found myself spontaneously face down on the floor in henu. This is not a typical position for me, in fact my Dad gets on my case when I try it. But today it felt natural and I was pleased to do it. I think He was as well. He also seemed to like the oil.
I know there have been many losses this year. Today I remember two: My uncle Doug and Peter “Sleazy” Christopherson.
I saw my uncle last year, when he and my aunt (my mother’s sister) were out to visit. They had driven out from Arizona and stayed for a week. My uncle was starting to show signs of dementia, and started to fail quickly after that. He was also found to have lung cancer earlier this year. It was pretty far advanced then, and within weeks he’d passed away. My relatives are indeed mortal, which I have known since I was 5, but the potential of them not to be there the next day is becoming even more real.
Sleazy, ah Sleazy, someone I always hoped to see perform live or maybe even meet. In 1993, when I discovered industrial music, I fell pretty quickly for the sounds of Throbbing Gristle and Coil. Sleazy (along with Jhonn Balance) were my first gay crush and I credit them with helping to shape some of my emerging sexuality. They were also quite blatant in their admiration for modern paganism and magick, and through their music my own boundaries of what was accepted reality grew exponentially. I felt a little heartbroken when I woke up on Thanksgiving to find out he’d passed.
Many more people have died, but these are the two who first come to mind.
Dua Wesir, foremost of Westerners,
May You continue to watch over those who have passed who have had an impact on my life.