Speak the following lines out loud:
I love everything about me
I love my uncanny beauty and my bewildering pain
I love my hungry soul and my wounded longing
I love my flaws, my fears, and my scary frontiers
I will never forsake, betray, or deceive myself
I will always adore, forgive, and believe in myself
I will never refuse, abandon, or scorn myself
I will always amuse, delight, and redeem myself
~from Rob Breszney’s Promoia
These are strong words, powerful words. Words I said aloud last night as I performed my Samhain ritual. The process, the journey I am undertaking (or being forced to take) is one of life and death, it is an initiation, one outside of my ‘usual’ parameters. I read those words the day before yesterday — coincidence? no. — and they were what I needed to direct my ritual.
In years past my ritual has been a re-dedication, a re-affirmation of the pledge I made nearly 30 years ago. Then, as now, as always, I pledge to walk the path the God/dess lays before me.
This year I pondered whether I could make that commitment. Cancer is not a path one chooses, after all. Nor is there very much choice one has along the way. (There is some, but the choices are usually between necessary evils.)
So, on the night when the veil between the planes grew thin, I spoke with Death. S/he did not speak back although I saw hir, but moved along. And I spoke aloud:
I love everything about me . . .