I love the turning of the wheel, and the ascent of the spiral. I love how each year brings me round to my most dear celebrations, leading me down familiar currents, even while I know each drop of water in those currents is new to the stream, having never traveled there before. The current remains familiar, though it is not, and can not be the same. I love how time unfolds, like a wild blossom in the sunlight. We can know what flowers will bloom in the clearing, even while knowing none of those flowers have ever bloomed there before. So it is with the holy days. We know them, and yet we do not know them.
Today is a holy day in my personal practice. The first day of November is and has been the day when I give praise and thanks to the Pythias, each for their guidance of the world and their dedication to the Lord Apollon, and also for their mentoring of me for the past several years. They always speak to me loudest on this day, while filling my space with their presence. I welcome them, and their cryptic whispers as they flit across my mind. This is a day of many gifts– the gifts I give them, and the gifts of oracle I receive.
Today, they whisper to me of change. A welcome sort of change. A needed sort of change. Something that shakes up my life in the most beautiful way. I have heard their voices speaking and felt their fleeting touch. I have seen their shapes in shadows and bands of light. The veil is thin, and they have come to visit.
I know this day, and I do not know it. I never know how their presence will manifest, or how they will affect my life. I only know that they will come, and that they will be honored. A long time ago they took me into their care. I am not one of them, but I am a part of their legacy. I am mindful of this whenever I preform the art and task that is my gift. But never am I more mindful than on the first of November, when the Pythias remind me upon whose path I walk, and why. For that, and so many other reasons, they receive my offerings.