The Goddess Wept

Discussing the lives lost at Virginia Tech (so many fewer than are lost daily in Iraq), Robin notes that:

It's okay to weep; the Gods themselves wept, bitterly.

Robin reminds me of one of the things that I love about Pagan polytheism. Yes, the gods and goddesses did -- they did -- sometimes, weep bitterly. They longed sexually, they were angry, they were helpful, they were seekers of wisdom, they were lovers of longing. Meanwhile, they ordered the seas, hunted the groves, carried messages between the gods, made the Earth flourish.

Last night at the dark moon, my circle called to Diana, who pretty much decided that she'd just as soon stay in the forest hunting stags as mess around with men. Diana, who, once she knew what she wanted, simply went out and got it. She could be petty, if, for example, you happened to gaze upon her by mistake. But for our small group of women on a cold, windy, late Spring night mere blocks from the Capitol, she represented the ability to go out and get what it is that you want. I love Goddesses like that.

Our sweet sister Nancy led the ritual, her clearest and best since she was injured on the job a few years ago. It was lovely, and doubly-so because she led it and led it with such a sure hand. We huddled in E's warm living room, with incense, warm cups of tea, warm cats, Salem chocolates, and (the most important part) with each other.

I am a loner, like the Virginia Tech shooter, like Diana. But, like Diana, I have a group of women who hunt with me. I am more grateful to them than I can say. More in debt to them for their concentration, courage, presence than I can express. More able to be who I am because they share with me who they are.

I love these women.