Falling of the horse

Sometimes, there is so much going on in life that the simplicity of scheduled routine is the best coping mechanism. Regularity is comforting and stabilizing. Spiritual schedules are a strong anchor in such times.  But lately, its been hard to muster the energy. Of course, faith isn’t the only productive routine that’s fallen by the way side. I haven’t seen a gym or had a go in the kayak in months. But that’s another story for another time.

Its been one thing after another in every sphere of life; when one realm of my reality begins to return to normal, another realm gets thrown off track. Its gotten to the point where I’m so scattered, I’m now making mistakes that create problems. Wonderful.

And piety is fantastic, but prayer, devotion, ritual, and meditation don’t solve anything in and of themselves. They just provide a mental environment conducive to better choices, stronger focus, and a more objective perspective. They feed your ka. They make waiting a little more bearable. There’s so much waiting right now. I hate that.

So why can’t I bring myself to do it? Don’t get me wrong, I’ll sit in the woods and meditate twice a week. I’ll pray informally every day. Every now and again I still light incense and a little water on my shrine. But to do a formal ritual, with flowers and food as offerings and a purifying bath and historical hymns or contemporary prose–I crave it but for some reason I’m just too restless to complete it.

Even now, I’m looking over at my shrine as I write. I’m upset by my neglect; I reprove myself regularly for letting it get to this point, but interestingly enough have failed to take action. I need to wash the little icons, launder the altar cloth, clean the burner, buy fresh candles. And honestly, use it at least once a week again. Things could get out of whack in the past, but my connection to my values and my Netjeru kept me grounded.

It used to be the center of my day, my practice, my routine. Now its peripheral. Its the random offering here and there when the longing or the shame remind me of what I’ve not made time for. There’s incense there still, left unburnt from the week before. Like so many other things, its in limbo. Its lingering, waiting to be used. I hate waiting.

Maybe if I get the center back in order, the rest of the chaos will be more easily managed.

I’m beginning to think I fall off of so many horses because I have crappy saddles. Time for the remount.

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