Tag Archives: Hermes

The Traveler

A man walked.  Well, he was almost a man.  Mostly, he was reptile, wandering across the asphalt, barefoot and dazed like a wounded animal. His clothes were long since torn off by the brush he had stumbled out of only moments before.  And when he had walked past them, the cattle continued to graze, recognizing this almost man as they might recognize a rattlesnake; not a threat, unless he came too close.

The Sun had roasted the almost man’s skin clear off, peeled away in large red circles all over his emaciated, naked frame.  His gait was wobbly, and I could hear him mumbling whatever incoherent nonsense that his reptile brain could command.  What a sight.  What a sorry, pitiful sight.

I followed him, though he never would know.

As the almost man was passing over the road ditch, he stopped for the first time seemingly in days, simply surveying the land.  There must have been some spark of sentience left in him, because he then turned his body down the long, hot road.  Perhaps there was a memory stored somewhere in his reptile brain, a memory of long drives and traffic jams; those things that any human being would know.

I watched him trip and fall over an upturned rock.  On the ground, he kept on with one hand, and then a foot.  One foot, and then a hand.  He went along the ground like this, kicking up dust and disturbing fire ant mounds. He increased his speed when the first tandem bite was felt, then stood again when his elbows began to bleed from the scraping.  Maybe he did remember, somewhere deep in his reptile brain, that crawling was for the wild beasts, not the animal Man.

The almost man walked on, delirious with thirst.  As I was near him, I could sense the dizzying thoughts flitting here and there.  Rain.  A water hose, transformed into a snake.  A river.  A faucet.  The drip, drip, drip of melting icicles.  He was hot.  So very hot.  And tired, and blistered and starving. This poor, almost man would not live another day– two days at the most.

I wondered what I could do for him.  He could not see Me, could not feel My cooling breath for the stifling heat.  If he fell again, he would not feel My arms circling him, but only the hard, sizzling asphalt.  He was too far gone now to remember even Me.  This poor, almost man who had once been so sure of his journey.

Necessary, he’d deemed it when leaving his perfect little wife, and their perfect little son, in their tiny, tiny, tiny little village.  But now, thoughts of family were replaced by cravings for critters crawling in the dirt.

The almost man reached down, grasping a juicy, juicy cricket that had hopped onto his leg.  It was so very juicy.  I could taste its bitterness on his tongue.  He was Mine still, after all, and would soon die in My loving embrace.  He always did prefer sweets.  It seemed best that he would not remember this final meal.

I could see it in his glazed and inhuman eyes.  Death was near, so I pleaded with Death.  “Not yet,” I said.  “Not this one.  Not here.”

And Death replied. “The whole of Earth is the Great Graveyard.  All places are equal.  All death is equal.  Life comes and goes, and men may not choose their time.”

And I commanded Death.  “Not here.  Not now.  Not yet.  I choose.  He chooses nothing.”

And Death yielded, grudgingly, saying, “Because You lead the souls down the final road, You alone may choose for this one who is Yours.  But, when next I come for him, be prepared, for not even You may stop Me.”

And Death fled.

Onward, the almost man walked.  On and on down the asphalt road.  At last, the Sun was coasting down below the trees, and I heard his involuntary sigh. Was it relief?  Or was it just another animal noise?  I wondered, even in my pity.

He was grunting now, a furious and frustrated sound.  A sound of despair, of humanity breaking down yet again, perhaps.  I tried to comfort him in his unease, but still his mind, the mind I had cultivated all these years, was gone.  I looked into his eyes.  If he’d had even a drop of moisture left, I suspect it would be pressed out in tears.  Though there were no coherent thoughts, I felt the raw emotion of a living being, nearing its end.

Not this one!  Not yet!  Not now!  I repeated this to Myself, and to all those dwelling nearby.  This one has a little wife, and a little son, and a little time yet to live in this cruel world of humans.  So, I called out in that silent way that only My kind can… and was thus answered.

Down that long, hot, desperate road, two lights were ever-brightening as the distance closed, driven by a maiden fair, with Sunset sparkling on her raven hair.  And she was one of Ours, brought here by her Master’s power, to save His Brother’s mortal child.

As the vehicle came closer, this, My almost man, fell to his knees, and then onto his side, no longer feeling the pain of burnt flesh, nor the ache of sore, torn muscle.  He breathed in shallow gasps, completely undisturbed when the two lights were fixed upon him, laying like a deer in the road.

But he would live.  Another day.  Two days.  Three.  And on and on for the duration of his most grateful life.


Thank you, Hermes Psychopompos.  Thank you, Thanatos.  Thank you, Apollon Agyieus.  Hail and Praise!

Why Honor the Deathless Ones?

Today, after a time to sufficiently bask in my family’s good fortune, I’ve come to a new conclusion about what reason is best to honor the Deathless Ones.  In the past, I can say that I’ve done it out of love and respect, primarily, and also to procure those things which were needed for survival, and some marvelous comforts. But those are all things that I’ve reasoned are important, things which I can predict a need for.  I know better now, though. I know that we can never know when the Gods are needed most.

We pay them honor, and they grant us favors.  This is kharis– reciprocity, and it seems to be the general arrangement.  They are not obligated to grant favors.  They are within Their rights to ignore every offering made by every devotee from the beginning of time till the end– and we would still be required, out of duty to the right order of the Kosmos, to give Them what is Theirs.  The Gods owe us nothing. We owe Them everything.

Yet, They seem to be at least mildly fond of our species, and are known, even now, to manipulate events and affairs of deep concern to our lives and livelihoods.  Why is that, I wonder?  Surely, for some of us this is answered in the question of Patronage, in the relationship of a God to a mortal in which They take on the majority of responsibility toward that devotee (without disrupting necessary relationships between said devotee and the other Gods).  But what of those who do not carry the weight of such Patronage?  If they are honoring the Deathless Ones as they should, each given Their proper portion of sacrifice, at the proper times, then there is no need to worry.

But, it must not be forgotten that reciprocity works best under the condition of continuous momentum.  In my understanding, this has come to mean keeping to a strict schedule of devotion, catering to my Household Gods, as well as the Olympians.

I do not have a close relationship to all of the Olympians.  Far, far from it.  I go to most of Them only with the problems of my life’s journey, or those related to specific areas of Their expertise, when needed.  I also give Them honor on the Noumenia, so ultimately, none are left out.  And this is as it should be.  Never underestimate the power of this foundational devotion.

It is literally Their job to listen to the regular and sincere devotions of the people.  Note, listen to, and not respond to– They owe us no response.  But if you are giving Them a return on the bounty they have granted you, along with regular prayers, then I’d wager They’ve put you on Their “list of humans to watch”.

When you put yourself on Their radar, you make it more likely that They will be watching when that unexpected disaster occurs.  You know, when you almost get run over by a truck, or nearly drive off an overpass, or almost drown, or just miss running into a murderer, etc., etc., etc.  It could be anything, really.  Anything could kill us, fragile as we are.

So, I posit that the greatest and most important reasons for honoring the Deathless Ones can not be known by humans.  Only the Gods may be in possession of this knowledge.  But that should matter little to us, who are at the mercy of the events of life.  As long as the Gods know, and are watching– as long as being known to Them leads to the fulfillment of reciprocity, we may lead our lives with blissful confidence.

As long as we keep up our devotions.

Praise Hermes!  Hail Apollon!  All Glory to the Deathless Ones!

Who’s Driving?

Ever had a dream in which you were riding in a car while a God was driving?  It actually happens to me quite a lot.  It’s usually Hermes at the wheel, and that suits me just fine.  Hermes is an excellent driver.  There’s no missing the scenery, or barreling through flashing reds.  It’s typically a comforting thing, to be riding with Him.  Apollon, on the other hand…


He drives too fast.  Scares the crap out of me every single time He pulls up in His awesome but nondescript sports car.  I mean really, the speed is too much. Of course, I’m saying this because I’m human and it’s scary and I don’t want to crash.  His response to that is always to counter with another question. Namely this one:

“Don’t you trust Me, princess?”

And then I melt, because, yes, I do trust Him… but the speed.  And He doesn’t even look at the road a lot of the time.  It’s like He’s daring me to freak out.

It really feels like reality, too.  I’ve been in a car before while weaving around highway traffic, speeding at 111 mph, because my cousin thought we were gonna be late for the club.  Of all the ridiculous reasons to put our lives at risk…  To be sure, I never rode with that cousin again, and that very year, he drove himself right to jail for speeding.  So, I’ve a little bit of experience in too fast cars, and I don’t like it one bit.

But what’s the point of sending me a dream like that?  Probably to tell me that He’s taken the wheel of my life into His own hands.  That, and He’s in a hurry for me to get to where He needs me to be.

So, Apollon is driving from now on, and until He indicates otherwise.  He was driving a few weeks ago, when I cut off a couple of unhealthy contacts.  He was driving when my plans for the future were set in motion.  And He was driving when I bailed from the insanity ship called Facebook about a week ago. I’ll tell you, I couldn’t be happier.  I’ve gotten so much more productive things and Things done in one week than I think I had in almost a full month prior. That’s a major difference, and I think I’ll stay away until at least the first week of September.  I can’t stay away permanently, as I do have obligations to groups.  Hopefully, they’ll forgive my needed hiatus.

So, in conclusion, Apollon is the Boss, He’s in control, He’s behind the wheel, and I’m just gonna sit here in the passenger’s seat, holding on and hopefully not screaming… too much.

Gods Make No Sense

Do the gods ever test you?  Like, do something just to see if you freak out, or to otherwise judge your reaction? Well, the Trio (my affectionate nick-name for Apollon, Hermes and Dionysos when they are working in tandem) have been up to some mischief.  And of course, they refuse to tell me what the real point of their antics are.

For example, occasionally Dionysos will appear looking like Apollon, and I’ll fall for it, for a few minutes at least, until I realize his energy doesn’t feel like Apollon’s at all.  And I ought to know, since most of the time I can barely tell where my mind ends and my Lord’s begins. As soon as I figure it out, Dionysos laughs, then tells me I’m a good girl, before he leaves.  Wtf?

Oh, and the dancing!  I’ve been getting into Belly Dance through instructional videos, because I’m poor, essentially.  (Lessons would be nice, but I have to be realistic.)  It is also nice to be able to share my new hobby with my god, from the convenience of my living room where I keep his shrine, so I’m not really complaining.  I am also not as coordinated as I remember myself to be, as those isolated hip movements have been quite difficult, which of course led to this:

About a week or so ago, after a long, late practice session, I was feeling really discouraged.  I’d never been that great of a dancer, and I only dance for my gods anyway, so it was fitting that Belly Dance, which has fascinated me throughout my life, would become the most fulfilling, yet difficult physical challenge I’d had in recent years.  I was totally exhausted, and hadn’t seen any measurable improvement in my technique after several weeks of dedicated practice.  So I fell asleep on the couch, disappointed by my lack of ability.  I couldn’t get the movements right, and it had really gotten me down. That night, Hermes, of all gods, appeared to me in a dream.

He said he’d seen my “dancing”, that I was awful, and that he’d help me out… for a price. He then grabbed me by the hips and began to manipulate them into the various positions.

Now, unlike those which I share with Apollon and Dionysos, my friendship with Hermes has always been strictly platonic. I’ve never been grabbed that way by anyone, let alone by a deity, especially one who has truly been like a brother to me.  So, as you can imagine, this was a whole new territory of awkward, and he was having way too much fun, in my opinion.  Much to my surprise, though, when I awoke the next morning, my technique actually was a little better.

Since then, I’ve received a few more lessons from Hermes about evolving friendships, and how ignoring divine overtures can be a bad idea.  Most of them are much too personal to share here, but I will tell you this.  It is easy to underestimate the sway Hermes has over modern, everyday life.  It is easy, and it is unwise.

Oh, and Apollon says he has a plan for me.  I don’t doubt it, but I do wonder why I need to be left in the dark.  ::groan::  It’s just the way my Lord operates, I suppose.  He’s never been too keen on revealing his motives, anyway, so I ought to just be satisfied with what little information I’ve been able to glean on my own.  From what I’ve gathered so far, it certainly looks like I’m in for an interesting year, to say the least.

Hermes, Most Beloved of Troublemakers

So, has anyone else had experience with Hermes stealing your attention away from other gods?  You see, yesterday was the day I had set aside for Columbia.  Well, originally it was just supposed to be for her, but last month Hermes barged right in, asking to be honored on the same day.  My goddess didn’t mind, so they both shared the offering that time.

This time, however, they argued (in my head, and loudly at that) about who was going to get what, the whole time I was preparing it.  Here’s a quick snapshot:

Hermes: How come she gets a cookie?  I like cookies, too.  Oh, are those chocolate chip?

Columbia: Yes, and they’re mine.  All of them.

Me: Um… actually, they’re for the whole family.

Hermes: Doesn’t look like enough for the whole family.  Come on, please? Just give me half.

Columbia: You may not claim half of my cookies!

Hermes: Nice!  You made coffee!

Columbia: Why are you giving him a drink?!

Me: There are a lot of nice thing to drink, my Lady.  Would you like some pineapple juice?

Columbia: I’ll have what he’s having.

Hermes: Jealous much?

Me: This is supposed to be fun.  Nobody is having fun right now.

Hermes: I am. (laughter)

So, yeah…  I hope this doesn’t happen every month, cause that would be a real pain.  I would just separate their offering days like I used to, but for some reason they seem satisfied with this arrangement.  I don’t really get it, but they’re welcome to whichever days suit them.  I just really hope the next argument they have isn’t conducted in my head.  Ouch!