• The first principle is that you must not fool yourself – and you are the easiest person to fool. Richard Feynman

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Other Blogs

  • Unsettled Time
    We are living in unsettled time. Wp Rnpt has ended the time between time, the Days Upon the Year in which time is upended and unordered, but time is still not aligned fully. We have space in which action exists, in which we can uphold the world, set ma’at in its place, the leverage to […]
  • Just a quick note
    I’ve updated my bio page with a link to Les Cabinets Des Polytheistes, where my story “Spine of the World” is published (and in which people can play Spot The Netjer if they are so inclined), and my less-specific webspace Suns in Her Branches, which is broader than this space (which is specifically for reconstructionist-derived […]
  • Opet article is up
    And can be read here.Filed under: Patheos Links
  • Eclipse Magic
    I am eight. I have been given a subscription to the magazine Sky & Telescope as part of our preparation for Halley’s Comet, and I read through it, earnestly trying to make sense of the articles, studying the pictures. I […]
  • The Art of Being A God
    It’s interesting having one foot in reconstructionist religion and one foot in religious witchcraft, for a lot of reasons. One of the things that I’ve been thinking about lately is the shape of how the gods appear within the context […]
  • Hills of the Horizon: The Past is Another Country
    The problem with extrapolation from history is that nothing is testable. The evolution of a religion over time is not a predictable and easily comprehensible thing, where we can look at a point in time and say, "It was like this then, so it would be like that now." The process of deciding what needs […]

The River

The river is the central artery of being.

It emerges from somewhere else. It emerges from the cataract. It emerges from the land of spirit, from the land of the dead, from the hands of those who guard the gates of its flow.

It emerges from the places where there are hidden stars, never seen. From mysteries, from the fonts of sacredness, the places of invisible lives.

It flows out from there, and it brings life with it, the sustenance that will make the land blossom. It brings new earth; it brings release from thirst. When it floods, it brings dread things, dire things, that escape and run rampant until they are again contained, turned away, banished.

There is no power that is not ambivalent. The water flows and it bears the power of life from the font from which life emerges; the water flows and it brings plague as well. The water flows too high and it washes everything away, eating away houses, devouring anything not built in stone; the water flows too low and there is no new earth, no growing season, and thirst.

The river connects. Its roots in the hidden realms give rise to the power to go from city to city, from place to place, to allow other flows to exist. Its perpetual boundary is also a perpetual highway, letting the living reach to each other, to travel, to span the distance between them.

The river is perilous. The crocodiles will return the unwary to the depths of unbeing, the roots of where water came from. The hippopotamus tramples if enraged. The waters themselves, that give life, will kill, and drowning can create gods.

The river has its rhythms, its pulses, its high times and low times.

Even as it emerges from the unseen, from the realms of the dead, it flows past that which is human, and out into the unspeakable and the dangerous and the foreign. The flow does not stop here; the river’s purposes go beyond that which is human.

Like all great powers, the river is generous, within its bounds.