Pagan Blog Project: J is for the Jackal Festival

Brooke from Making Bright is visiting me for a few days. Conveniently, the next major festival of my calendar after the First Dawning is Heb Sabu, which occurs around the middle of May, so we thought that as Kemetics, we could celebrate it together.

Heb Sabu is a festival I made for my calendar, so as far as I know, no one else celebrates it. It certainly isn’t a festival from antiquity. My reasoning is that Anpu and Wepwawet have several feast days in the northern hemisphere’s spring and summer, depending on the calendar you follow (for now I use Neos Alexandria’s as a reference). I thought it would be best to consolidate the feast days all into one mega-holiday instead of celebrating so many over the course of several months. So, this evening, we honored jackals.

The shrine setup, complete with offerings.

We prepared by making prayer beads for the gods, which I’d been wanting to do for a while. I had made prayer beads and devotional bracelets for other gods and spirits–some for my own and a couple for those that other people served–but never for the two Jackals. I chose to make bracelets so I can easily wear them in the future; Anpu’s is black and gold, the colors I associate Him with, and Wepwawet’s is brown and red with some gold. Brooke made a prayer bracelet as well, dedicated to the both of Them.

My prayer bracelets for Anpu (left) and Wepwawet.

Brooke’s prayer bracelet for Anpu and Wepwawet.

Afterward, we cleansed ourselves with salt water and donned plain dresses for the ritual. We followed Sobekemiti’s all-purpose general Kemetic ritual, sharing the recitations, anointing ourselves in the Nefertiti perfume oil from Black Phoenix Alchemy Labs, and offering ma’at, homemade bread, Young’s Double Chocolate Stout, the prayer bracelets, and cool water to the gods. Gerald Jay Markoe’s “Meditation Music of Ancient Egypt” played in the background for the duration of the ritual, lending it a sacred atmosphere and grounding us to the proper mindset.

Performing the ritual felt powerful. We’d made preparations and knew our roles and actions, so it more or less went smoothly. And, during the personal prayer section, I was overcome with the sense that They were in the room with us. I hadn’t felt that distinct presence in a long, long time.

Pagan Blog Project: J is for Jubilation

On the drive home today, I had a startling revelation: I’m happy.

It’s not that I previously wasn’t; I’ve been blessed with a life that I consider fairly average, with its highs and lows. Happiness isn’t strange to me. Despite this, I’ve had my share of internal struggles, and like many others, I attempt to overcome them through serving and working with my gods.

Of all these gods, Wepwawet is the One who teaches me joy. When He first came into my life, I knew Him as a warrior god, as the Opener of the Way for the king in battle and at home. But I came to understand that I am not to learn strength from Him, but joy. Wepwawet is the Lord of Jubilation, of the celebration and happiness that comes from defeating one’s enemies and winning one’s battles. I might not wage war against others, but I have my own enemies and my own battles, as all people do–the ones within. Wepwawet entered my life in a time when I needed that sort of inspiration and motivation, and while it hasn’t been very long since then, I think I’ve improved since.

At the start of the year, I made a happiness jar, and whenever good things happen, I write it down on a slip of paper, fold it up, and put it in the jar. I have a paper journal where I write facts that bring me joy, and I read them when I need to. I have treated myself well when I’ve needed it, monetary costs be damned, and I’ve leaned on the shoulders of those who love me, too. All of these little things have added up, slowly, over the past few months, with Wepwawet nudging and nagging me the whole way.

There is nothing sweeter than the realization that you are doing better.

Pagan Blog Project: I is for Interfaith

A long time ago, I read something–a blog post, a comment, something–that expressed how the writer felt that the fight for true religious equality and freedom will be the last one humanity will engage in the name of civil rights. Something about this opinion moved me deeply. The moment I read it, I knew that though true religious equality in my country likely won’t happen in my lifetime, I do not want to die without doing something to help the future generation with this struggle.

During my last semester of university, I took a class called Writing in the Humanities with the theme of literacy and the Liberal Arts education. Immediately, my fellow students and I were introduced to the concept of cultural literacy, the idea that the people of a group–specifically, in the context of our studies, the United States–have to possess certain knowledge in order to understand references made by their peers in their group. For example, if I were to jokingly call Easter “Zombie Jesus Day,” someone with American cultural literacy would understand the joke because they would already know that Christians believe that Jesus rose from the dead on Easter Sunday.

Speaking with and understanding other pagans, polytheists, reconstructionists, and practitioners of magic (“witches,” for the sake of simplification) requires a certain level of cultural literacy–we can all take that much for granted. However, there is an incredible disconnect between PPRWs and non-PPRWs at a basic level. The very least that the average American would know about Greek mythology would come from Disney’s Hercules, though one would hope that children read The Iliad and/or The Odyssey in school. When I explain my tattoo of Anpu’s hieroglyphs to the curious, about 4 of 5 people don’t even recognize that the name “Anubis” is that of an Egyptian god.

I want to see that knowledge gap bridged. Personally, I believe that people’s awareness and open-mindedness will only increase with education–and I feel that I have to point out that “religious education” doesn’t have anything to do with divinity school, theological discussion, or proselytizing. Religious education can be purely academic.

After some contemplation, I decided that the first step in my effort to spread literacy would be to join groups outside of my religion’s sphere of influence. I’m a solitary Kemetic. I’m a member of one or two groups already, and I applied to the House of Netjer as a remetj–a community member, a friend of the faith. I have to look beyond Kemeticism, however, to discover what I can do to help spread awareness. Two weekends ago, I attended a service at my local Unitarian Universalist Church (which is coincidentally held at the interfaith center in my city) to gather information and learn about its affiliated pagan group. While I doubt I’ll be able to attend any meetings this month, I reached out to the coordinator to express my interest anyway.

I also attended the Washington D.C. dinner social for International Pagan Coming Out Day on May 2. While we didn’t discuss paganism, I found it worthwhile to meet with other locals and familiarize myself with faces that I might see again in the future. D.C. is a bit far for regular outings, but I did collect a couple of email addresses, blog URLs, and business cards for future interactions.

My hope is that after working with other non-Kemetic PPRWs for some time, I can move onto a bigger stage, building bridges and exchanging information with non-pagans. But I have a long, long way to go, and I know that in order for me to do it, I have to work really hard.

It’s not going to be easy, but I hope it’ll be worth it.

Today I Learned : The Origin of Yinepu/Anubis' Leopard Cloak

Reblogged from Shadows of the Sun:

• 

As some of my readers are undoubtedly aware, certain priests, including the Pharaoh, wore panther cloaks as part of their ritual uniform during special ceremonies. The "Opening of the Mouth" ceremony is one such ceremony, and it was arguably the most important of funerary rites. This ceremony allowed the deceased to eat and breathe and speak in the Otherworld. If proper funerary rites were not observed, the deceased's soul was trapped and inert.

Read more… 612 more words

Ah, information I've been looking for! Thanks, Sarduriur!

Pagan Blog Project: I is for the Imywt Fetish

The past week has been interesting — to say the least — in regards to religious matters. At this point in time, I’m unwilling to go into detail, but it’s renewed an interest in researching Kemeticism and ancient Egypt in general. I’ll be honest: I don’t know much about ancient Egyptian history, nor do I consider myself as learned or well-read as other Kemetics. I’ve barely done any academic research in the past few months, simply because I’ve been so engrossed in more experiential lessons.

In addition, I was recently inspired by holyandros on tumblr to purchase faux leopard skin for Anpu’s shrine. I found the perfect product on etsy: two rabbit pelts dyed with a leopard print. The smaller one went right to Anpu’s shrine, but I’m saving the bigger one for a more historically accurate devotional artifact: the imywt fetish.

The faux leopard skin (actually a dyed rabbit pelt) on Anpu’s shrine.

Naturally, I soon realized that I know nothing about the imywt fetish. Well, that’s not true; I know it’s an object associated with and sacred to Anpu, and I know that it’s composed primarily of a headless animal skin, a wooden pole, and a pot. But for years, I was ignorant about its significance and symbolism, and as a devotee of Anpu, I decided: that will not do.

As it turns out, imy-wt is actually one of Anpu’s most commonly featured epithets, in usage from as early as Predynastic Egypt until the Roman Period. It means “He Who is in the place of embalming” or “He Who is in the mummy-wrappings,” with -wt itself describing the mummification bindings (DuQuesne 1). For those unaware, while popular media opts to portray Anpu as the Egyptian god of death, He is actually the god of embalming and funerals. imy-wt isn’t the only epithet of His related to this domain, either; others include Lord of the Burial, He in the Heart/Middle of the House of Embalming in the Duat, Lord in the Place of Embalming, and so on and so forth.

(Actually, one of my favorite epithets of His is Lord of the Knife, an aggressive title relating to His role as a guardian, a protector, and an upholder of Ma’at — and when I think of “knife” in the context of Anpu, I think of the knife that embalmers in ancient Egypt used to remove internal organs from the body.)

A depiction of an imywt fetish at the Temple of Hatshepsut in Luxor, Egypt.

The prevalence of the imywt fetish in ancient Egyptian iconography mirrors the prevalence of imy-wt as an epithet. DuQuesne writes that in the Pyramid Texts, the fetish is said “to have been born from the cow-goddess Hezat,” which reflects the myth that Anpu was born of Hezat, with Ra as His father. The imywt fetish itself was made primarily of the pelt of a cow or an ox, as indiciated by the color on surviving artifacts. Variants exist, however, including those with leopard pelts — which were also worn by sem priests, who dealt with funerary rites. The connection is rather obvious.

The fetish itself is considered a symbol of healing and rebirth. The Jumilhac Papyrus recounts a myth local to the XVIIth nome of Upper Egypt, of which Anpu is a primary deity:

. . . Hezat, named as the mother of Anubis, separated the god Anti’s bones from his soft organs, placed the assemblage in an jmjwt, and squirted her milk over it, with the result that Anti was restored to life. (DuQuesne 2)

Alternatively, the imywt is the skin in which the dismembered limbs of Wesir were placed by Anpu and where they knitted together to make Wesir whole again (Henadology). Practically speaking, the imywt fetish was naturally used in funerary rites, but also in coronations, royal celebrations, the Sed festival, and the dedications of temples, often as a planted standard to commemorate the appearance of the king in public, suggesting a close connection between the king and Anpu Himself.

I’m not founding a physical temple or other important edifice, but Anpu is my Patron, and I received the tiniest glimpse of one of His plans the other week — enough to kick my butt into gear and get back into studying. The first steps are to understand Him more thoroughly and to worship to Him more deeply, bringing Him back to the center of my practice. That in itself is a foundation in the most metaphorical sense of the word, a solid base upon which service to my god can be built and reinforced. A little imywt fetish beside His shrine only seems appropriate.

REFERENCES

• Butler, Edward P. “Anubis.” Henadology. WordPress, 19 May 2009. Web. 25 Apr. 2013.
  
• DuQuesne, Terence. “Jmjwt.” UCLA Encyclopedia of Egyptology. Los Angeles, 2012.
• Espinel, Andrés D. “The Boundary Stelae of Djoser’s Funerary Complex at Saqqara.”Egyptology at the Dawn of the Twenty-First Century. Vol. 2. Cairo, Egypt: American Univ in Cairo Press, 2003. 215-20. Print.
• Irytsabu, Jennifer. “The Imywt Fetish.” Per-Sabu: House of Jackals. Weebly, June 2011. Web. 25 Apr. 2013.
• Logan, Thomas J. “The Origins of the Jmy-wt Fetish.” Journal of the American Research Center in Egypt 27 (1990): 61-69. JSTOR. Web. 25 Apr. 2013.
• Szafrański, Zbigniew. “Imiut in the ‘Chapel of the Parents’ in the Temple of Hatshepsut at Deir El-Bahari.” Ägyptologische Tempeltagung. Vol. 8. Weisbaden, Germany: Otto Harrassowitz, 2010. 187-96. Print.

Pagan Blog Project: H is for Honoring Modern Entities

Over the past few months, tumblr pagans and polytheists have discussed the worship or veneration of various entities portrayed primarily or exclusively in modern fiction. Some of these include the ponies in My Little Pony and the Big Four–the characters of Jack Frost (from Rise of the Guardians), Merida (from Brave), Rapunzel (from Tangled), and Hiccup (from How to Train Your Dragon). Pagans and polytheists are using the terms “pop culture paganism” and “pop culture worship” to refer to the movement as a whole.

Now, I really didn’t have an opinion on these conversations while they occurred. Interesting as it is, I don’t connect with the productions or the entities as easily as others, so I continued doing what I’ve been doing in my worship. Then, however, a recent discussion reawakened something long dormant within me: Daedra worship.

Azura: Daedric Prince of Dawn and Dusk, Mother of Roses, Queen of Twilight.

The Daedra are “a group of powerful entities that inhabit the plane of Oblivion” that are capable of manifesting in the physical world (source)–beings that are part of the vast and complex lore of the The Elder Scrolls video game series. I’ve been a fan of the series all my life, starting with its third game, Morrowind, and the Daedric Princes have fascinated me ever since. Yet many of them are perceived as incredibly evil, and some–Molag Bal, the King of Rape, for example–are completely off-limits for me. However, for most, they are only as evil as mortals within the game lore perceive them, and as a character immersed in the game world, most players share that view. And yet:

Scholars are quick to point out that the characterization of Daedra as “evil” is a gross oversimplification. Whereas the Aedra represent stasis, the Daedra represent fluidity, change and chaos; this causes many Daedra to be seen as destructive. However, mortal concepts of good and evil cannot be easily applied to them, and to the extent that these concepts do apply, Daedra exist at both ends of the spectrum.

Amongst the majority of Tamriel’s populace, the Daedra are seen as naturally evil, as many concepts of evil are directly relative to the mortal world; for example, most Daedra cause disorder and chaos, which are generally not beneficial to mortal affairs. In many provinces where the human population dominates (such as Cyrodiil), Daedra are considered outright evil, and Daedra worship is outlawed. This has not stopped cults of Daedra worship from popping up across Tamriel, and in some locations their worship is accepted, or at least tolerated. In particular, the Dunmer of Morrowind align themselves much more closely with the Daedric Princes, especially Azura, than with any of the Nine Divines. (source)

Knowing this allows those interested in Daedra worship, including myself, to reconcile with what we’ve learned through playing the games. A friend and I are working together to create an e-shrine dedicated to the Daedric Princes, but I might put together a small shrine in the corner of my windowsill with the symbols of my favorite Daedra, Azura and Nocturnal, to honor them.

On the other hand, I’ve had a strange tug-of-war with Columbia, one of the primary deities of the United States pantheon. (I include Her in this post of modern entities because let’s be honest: the United States as a nation hasn’t been around for that long.) I have always been patriotic, I always get emotional and proud whenever I hear the national anthem, and I stand by the ideals of my country–which Columbia represents to me–even if the reality is less than picturesque. And yet I have dug in my heels and hem and haw over whether I should truly start honoring her. The only reason I can muster is a current lack of connection, which is ridiculous considering the lack of connection I had with Persephone, and now look where we are. (We’re coming along swimmingly.)

“Lady Columbia” by Alex Preiss

I don’t know if I would ever actively worship the Daedra and Columbia, though. I have enough on my plate already with Anpu, Wepwawet, and Persephone demanding my time and energy. But as I reconciled with myself a few weeks ago, I am a polytheist. Recognizing and paying respects to many gods, even if we don’t worship Them, is just what we do.

(KRT) Handling Inadequacy

I have experienced two types of inadequacy in my years of paganism: the perceived and the real.

Many people often do perceive themselves as inadequate. It’s a perfectly normal experience and yet usually unfounded. Neither the length of a ritual, nor the extravagance of offerings, nor the degree of intimacy one has with one’s gods are proper indications of how adequate one is as a practitioner and devotee. Comparing oneself to others is futile, because everyone practices and worships differently, even if the variations are in the details: one person might dance to express his devotion, another person might write devotional poetry, and yet another might hunt her meat to honor her gods.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve wondered if what I’ve been doing in my practice is good enough for the gods. However, I’ve come to understand that Anpu, at least, is satisfied with my worship when He is silent. If He wants something from me, He’ll let me know in His own way, and I can adjust as necessary.

… which leads me to true inadequacy. For this to occur, a practitioner is not meeting (a) certain condition(s) predetermined by certain gods or spirits. For me, I was too young and too immature when I first discovered paganism. I was a child who had to grow up first. Though I was oblivious to my own inadequacy, the gods knew this, and so They waited, withdrawing any contact… and eventually, I forgot They existed.

I could say that I “fell” to atheism, but I consider those six years critical to my growth as a person. I had little interest in higher powers, religion, worship, or even faith, but I will readily attribute plenty of personal development to those years of my life. When those six years were over, Anpu reintroduced me to paganism. As is His nature, He did not share with me any of his plans; it wasn’t until later that I learned just how much I would struggle and suffer while He redirected the course of my life. If I hadn’t had the experiences I’d garnered during my atheism, I know in my gut that I wouldn’t have weathered that sort of storm. I’m stronger for Anpu’s guidance, but much of my recovery and growth relied heavily on my own preexisting strength.

Wepwawet approached my inadequacy differently. Since the beginning, I denied that He would be any part of my worship; I wanted to be devoted to Anpu and no Others. Eight years later, when I finally caved in, Wepwawet became present in full force. He had been waiting for me to swallow my pride, for even though we think we only want to worship certain gods, we hardly know better than the gods Themselves. And now, Wepwawet’s guidance builds upon itself. I’m not ready to do the work He wants me to do–whatever it is–and this time, I’m perfectly aware of it. I’ve accepted that I do not meet certain conditions and I want to change that about myself, and Wepy is around to provide His wisdom.

Acceptance is, of course, the most difficult part about overcoming one’s own inadequacy. I can’t become stronger or wiser or better if I don’t decide to change myself, and I can’t make this decision if I don’t accept that something about me needs changing. This thing could be anything from eating habits, self-love or a lack of it, emotional maturity, or even the refusal to accept change as a necessary force in our lives.

Do we all need to change ourselves for our gods, though? No; of course not. You can put your foot down and say, “I don’t want to become that sort of person.” The most important thing to remember, after all, is that change should benefit you. Struggle should reap a reward, not more struggle.