This is a thought that strikes me frequently. Maybe I’m just biased, because They’re my Gods and I love Them – but no matter whether I’m kneeling in the State shrine gazing up at a consecrated Icon, or sitting with my personal shrine lighting candles next to the statues of my Parents, or in a museum, just taking in the intricacies of the ancient carvings of Their images – They are beautiful. Utterly, painfully, breathtakingly so.

It isn’t quite that They are physically beautiful; They are, but there’s more to it than that. I think it’s just the way They work, the way They are a part of my life and the lives of countless others; the spark of the Divine that They carry – I don’t know. But it wells up inside of me and overflows when I am in Their presence; when I am hurting, it cleans and soothes my wounds, and when I am joyful, it magnifies my gladness.

Just further proof that everything I do for Them comes down to loving Them fiercely.

Kneeling before the shrine, I am yet again apologizing for my long absence. And yet again, They take me back without reproach. Our talks are not without gentle admonishment – not for my failings, but for the shame and guilt I carry for being away. Life is unpredictable. Illness is unavoidable. I need to build solutions to the roadblocks in my way without blaming myself for their presence. And I need to be honest. A huge part of the problem is the overwhelming sense that by being forced to take a less intense role due to circumstance, I am somehow unworthy to work for the gods – somehow no longer Their servant. This is, in a word, preposterous.

It is very easy for me to turn all the blame internally when circumstances require taking a break, stepping back, or even just slowing down until changes can be made. The Ifs and the Shoulds can be overwhelming. And it is equally as easy for me to say “I won’t give up; I will work harder and be better than my anxiety,” but this is virtually impossible to accomplish. Because sometimes, working harder isn’t the solution. Having compassion for myself and taking the time to work patiently through a disadvantage often is. It seems that no amount of blunt force can break the wall of emotional fog, but slow and gentle kindness can wear it down until it eases.

Ma’at and the rules of the gods are not inflexible. They change, and they force us to examine ourselves and change with them, ever evaluating ourselves and balancing on Ma’at’s scales each day. Every day has its own equlibrium; each zep tepi comes with a tiny adjustment to the metrics. So we learn to live in flux, in harmony, and to know that standing still can be as effective a tactic as charging ahead.

Not being Christian anymore, I have the internal quandary whether or not I should still celebrate Christmas. It is, after all, a holiday honoring the birth of a deity I no longer serve. But Christmas has kind of taken on a life of its own in my world. Christmas, to me, has become a celebration of my Akhu and my family.

I celebrate Christmas because my family does. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if I suddenly decided I was too good for the holiday. I would only be causing grief, as I corrected people about the holiday constantly and disappointed them by not participating in traditions. I celebrate because I enjoy giving gifts. It’s a drain on my wallet to be sure, but I love having an excuse to find something that will truly make someone smile. I celebrate for my ancestors. I feel my Akhu gathering during Christmas, just as my living family does. I will bring them offerings – the foods we’ve always had at Christmas, and of course the drinks after dinner. The traditions themselves are an offering – we remember the dead by carrying on the things they themselves enjoyed doing too.

I know there are other holidays that I could insist on celebrating; I could demand to be wished a happy Establishment of the Celestial Cow (which happens to fall today, incidentally), or a blessed solstice, or anything. I do celebrate those festivals, but ritually, with prayer. Gift giving and gathering of family is for Christmas. It always has been, and always will be. And when I am old enough to celebrate holidays with my own children, I will teach them about Christmas. I will tell them about it’s religious significance first – but then I’ll tell them how I’ve always celebrated it – as a feast for the family, both living and dead.

Merry Christmas, blessed solstice and a happy Moomas to you – whichever your celebrate and however you do.