On another platform we were discussing the dearth of prayers for descendants compared to the wealth of those for ancestors. To combat the lack I wrote one.
A Prayer for Descendants
My name is not a whisper in your ancestors’ ears,
so long gone,
a gossamer memory tattered by millenia.
When breezes lie soft on cheeks and hair,
and rains gentle across your lands;
when baby rabbits play tag nearby,
and hope lines the pockets in your soul;
when drink on tongue quenches deep thirst,
and laughter percolates crevices in
know this, dear one,
It was me,
kissing love into the stars,
to sift thru dark skies,
and weave into dreams
to bespatter your days.
One thing I’ve noticed as a common thread through those who have been initiated is a noticeable heels-dug-in attitude of no longer being satisfied with lots of filler or meaningless junk taking up life’s time. Feeding the soul becomes a huge part of The Work. Shifting and sorting, tossing out the useless and carving space for that which feeds the core. For me, Joy is what I feed. Food comes in many forms, but I have go-to’s that serve me well: music and art, connecting and laughing, creating magical items, and tiny touches throughout my day that remind why I yearn to feel deeply and how I reach toward that Joy.
Some people cut the space from part of their free time that already exists, but most cut more than they had before initiation. A drive inside is ignited that insists on being noticed and tended. We can’t all quit our day jobs, but finding ones that don’t strangle the bright spark that fires Fetch becomes an insistent nagging. Career changes or modifications often accompany this push in whatever manner is feasible to make our time not only count, but insist that it serve us in ways and depths we hadn’t yet tapped.
This I think is a lot of what seekers notice in those initiated (and perhaps in those thoroughly dedicated, yet for whom no formal rite of passage has been performed). Seekers notice the flame inside and the turn to a different value set where priorities have been upended and reordered like a tipped box full of memories cleaned up – memories of who we are, who we wanted to be when we first formed those thoughts as a child, and who we live to be in our future.
This thing, this impetus to pursue only those endeavors that can sate our hungry soul is a thing that marks us. It is seen. The Divine gleam that runs through each of us shines brighter, clearer, and far more potently than it did before and others notice. It pulls those wishing a mystic path and the tug brings apprentice to mentor. Knowledge, tools, skills, energy – passed from one human to another, over, up, and down to the Gods, wrapped around Ancestors and Descendants and back again. This is the way it has always been. This is the way it will always be. The continuity, the flow, the forever memory of the passing – it feeds all of us. And we plant our futures in our students. Gladly so. We are part of the process, essential to and yet a tiny piece of the eternal process of being.