We’re still in the no-touch pandemic times. Likely for a while to come. And I don’t know about you, but I’m tired. And starved. I crave the brush ups against friends, the long deep hugs, the laying in each other’s arms in the sunshine.
I miss it.
Some people I know have created pods, places of shared practices for safety and places for supporting our mental health. There are agreements and boundaries and shared understandings.
Allies who have each other’s back.
And I also call on the godds to be a part of my pandemic pod.
Who are You Gonna Call?
I call on Aphrodite. Lady Love. I call on your sweetness and your reminders that beauty arrives in all moments. All I need to do is look and be present. I offer to you the moments I notice. The sweet words from beloveds over Zoom. The opening and closing of flowers that I notice more on my daily walks. The times I sink deep into a bath that’s filled with roses and come back to my precious body.
I call on the Norns. I call on the stretch of time, the waves of time, and the ways that time calls us forth and back again. I reach out to the ways I can know what is, what was, and what is becoming. I call out to the weave of thread that stretches and pulls. The places where I become so focused on one part of time or the way that every day is the same day, but not. I call out to the Wyrd. I call out for the presence of my choices and how they tug on the web when I need help and when I can give support.
I call on Iris. I call on your power of hearing what the godds have to say. I call on the traveling of rainbows of experience. The ways that light can move in a certain way and tumble into a mystical experience that moves along my wall in the morning. I remember the sacred promises and the way I can move across the spaces of above and below, speaking words that I know to be true and sharing messages that need to be received.
I call on Hecate, for these are crossroads. I call on the torch that guides the way to the next best step. I call on you who knows of wide magick and how to unlock the stuck places. I call on the loud quiet you offer, the knowing and the insistent gaze. I call on you who knows of the shadow and the places we all need to go. The places we are.
The Engagement of Allies in the Pandemic
During this pandemic time, I have found myself calling on allies in online classes I’ve taught, but also in the moments where my skin is so hungry that I could swear my soul is making grumbling noises. So loud anyone can hear them.
And I offer my heart to the beloveds who support and who I support in return. This is not a one-way relationship. There is reciprocity in the uncertainness of all of this. I give to you my intention and attention. I give to you offerings of my surrender. I listen. I linger. I release expectations.
I arrive. I feel safer. I feel supported. I know myself better.
I remember myself better.
For while the language of reaching out for wisdom from the godds is something that feels so very human to do, I am also divine. And that means when I reach for these beings, I reach for myself.
And feel a little less alone.
(And I still really miss hugs.)