A paradox of gods
I believe in a fractal god. One that doesn't pin down to descriptions easily. A paradox of gods.
The god I was raised to believe in seemed aloof – not in an uncaring way, but in that way that shy people sometimes have. It was hard to get to know that god. We didn't share the same interests. I had friends that seemed to talk to that god easily, and understand what that god wanted them to do.
I prayed a lot as a kid, though. Up through high school, I said my prayers every night. It was to a god that had to be placated, or really more like writing thank-you notes to a wealthy grandfather. You'd be frowned upon if you didn't write the notes, but it was hard to tell whose benefit they were for. Was I just trying to prove my mother had taught me well?
The god I know believe in also demands attention, but sometimes in ways that are more subtle. Sometimes she is a goddess. When I connected a new friend to a networking opportunity yesterday, I felt it was an ode to Jupiter. The best ways to pay homage to another are often to make an offering of an action.
I continue to buy flowers and burn incense, things I have been taught are for the gods. But also: these things are for me. They beautify my home. I choose incense because it smells good to me. But also, they are tangible reminders of the divine. Little roadmarkers.
What is this fractal god capable of? I've seen my spells come true. I've seen myself transformed into a person who is more in touch with what she wants.
I've seen my income increase, my workload decrease, my lovers become more incredible.
And yet it's hard to believe that the divine is behind these things, or it's hard to understand how god "works." How magic works.
Magic is real and god is real; goddesses are real. But then you start to think about myths and gods in human forms. And truly the myths are just ways to try to understand god.
And I have spent my own time contemplating goddesses at my altar. Thinking about them and listening to them.
Venus is wise, containing the knowledge and wisdom of every love story. Venus is a muse, inspiring me to care for myself so someone else might know how. What might she also be? She might be a guardian angel, always ready to offer the next step on the path. She might love me more for my mistakes and messiness because in that there is the triumph of resiliency. She might be the force of love itself, the echo, the feeling, the season. She might be the medium through which I live, as if life were an ever-evolving painting.
She might love me no matter what. She might be willing to care for me even if I do everything wrong, like a devoted parent. She might truly be a parent, my true mother.