Before I knew I was a witch, I read a book by Karen and Poul Anderson, The King of Ys. In it are nine priestess witches, and I was in love with the thought of being any and all of them –
At one point in the story, the King desecrates the sacred river. The nine priestess witches know the Goddess will punish the city for the King’s transgression. They send the strangest of the nine of them into deep trance, where she communes with the Goddess, placates Her, begs for forgiveness. When the priestess witch comes out of the trance, she’s a shell – the other eight put her to bed for days, nurse her, nourish her, heal her as she slowly comes back to this side of the veil, and regains her strength.
For those of you who invite the sacred to inhabit your body in aspect, I invite you to compare this process, to yours. My process is: I aspect easily, and enjoy the challenge of being of two minds (the “Goddess” mind / and the “I am the one with a body and looking out for the group” mind). I find it a seductive and captivating experience in which I always learn much that is useful. I believe it serves the group and is sacred work. While in aspect I don’t feel my usual physical challenges. And when I come out – I very much do.
I come out of aspect quickly and easily. When I come out, I feel the physical repercussions of the Goddess’s free and dancing movements. I feel a sort of backlash from being so vibrantly in tune with Her, and beyond the veil, for so long. From channeling. When I say I come out quickly and easily, I mean I look fine, can interact with the group as myself, and can drive home if I need to. But the truth is, my mind and consciousness linger on the bridge between the worlds for a day or so. I am not fully ready to be in the mundane world.
When I wake the next morning, it’s like a psychic hangover. Then I remember that priestess witch of Ys, and I long for those other eight priestess witches to care for me and support me. And – if I’m in sacred community, at witch camp or on retreat, I have that care and support. The between-the-worlds functioning I’m still caught up with is understood, accepted, even useful. So are the repercussions to my body.
And if I’m not in sacred community? In the past, I often went into the office the next day. I looked at maps, I led teams of strategists. My poor head did its best to fully inhabit the world on this side of the veil again, with varying success.
Then I found myself remembering the priestess witch of Ys, and I realized – ok, the overculture doesn’t value or honor the work of aspecting, and doesn’t support that process. But I do value and honor it – and to be sustainable, I must support its process.
Now, if I won’t have the support of sacred community the day after aspecting, I’ve made the commitment to give myself the day after to honor this sacred process, and myself. Sacred body. My human body and mind, I remind myself, are sacred too. If I’m not going to be in sacred community after aspecting, I’ve made the commitment to stay home the day after and just be gentle with myself.
I’m not lucky enough to be a priestess witch of Ys. But that’s part of what it means to be a witch doing this work, in these troubled times. It means I walk between the worlds in a number of ways, every day. The overculture doesn’t believe that’s of value – but I do. Giving myself the time I need to fully honor the process of aspecting is a way I honor and sustain the mundane, human mind and body that support me in this work. “My body is the body of the Goddess,” as the chant says; in aspecting I’ve accepted that having Her in my body is glorious, and exacts a payment I’m willing to acknowledge and pay.
If you’d like to know more about aspecting, here is a link to an excellent article by Pomegranate Doyle that was published in Reclaiming Quarterly
http://reclaimingquarterly.org/86/rq-86-invitingdivine.html