I had an hour with Seshat yesterday, our first for a long, long while. It was wonderful to see her so wide-eyed and happy, I got the grin which I miss, I got the laugh and the devilry and some truly hilarious anecdotes, and just being with her and wandering arm-in-arm through the town cheered me up no end.
You’ll have noted, probably, if there’s still anyone here apart from me, that is! that I’ve been totally quiet for ages. I’ll tell you why.
After moving house last Yule, I haven’t even unpacked my altar. My books and papers are still in boxes. I have done no observance and made no progress in my spiritual life. Talking with Seshat, it seems we all go through this periodically but this has been my driest dry spell ever.
Part of the problem has been lack of space. Sounds ridiculous – I’ve moved to a house quite five times the size of The Little House, and twice as big as my previous home but that’s not the issue. There is no space for me – nowhere to call my own, no quiet corner where I can have my things, nowhere safe and private and unobserved where I can meditate. It is quite uniquely uncomfortable to feel as though you have nowhere that is yours. It is one of the worst feelings for a person like me, who could happily make use of a medium-sized room what with all my books, ornaments, computer, furniture, pictures, rugs, cushions and so on. I know it’s idiosyncratic stuff, I know it holds value only for me. However, it’s been packed away so long I no longer know what I have on hand.
Help has arrived, people. After hearing me sigh wistfully over an article in Country Living regarding outdoor rooms (or lurking huts, as I prefer to call them) the BB has come up with a solution. Our bedroom is quite large and has wonderful views, and light, and there is an alcove around the door which is totally un-utilised. The BB produced an architectural draft of a plan for a bookcase / cupboard combination, which will incorporate lockable storage for private items, and a fold-away desk / table. He has bought the wood, and has begun work. I am stoked. There’s about 40′ of shelving, and masses of room for all my ceremonial items. He has also made available a lovely little lady’s desk, with a drop down lid and pigeonholes, which will sit kitty-corner with the bookcase and make the whole alcove my own private slice of heaven.
With this amazing and unlooked-for treat in store, I can feel the green shoots of recovery twining up my ankles, a strange sight in Autumn I’m sure, but even if it’s out of season it’s wonderful. It’s the beginning of our year once more, a good time to start again. And I think it goes to show that there’s nothing that can’t be done, and no reason to give up completely if there’s the least hope of a renaissance in the offing. If you fall off the horse, give it time and get back on. You have to expect to take tumbles on this type of life-long journey; dust yourself off, learn a lesson and proceed.