This week the gods have put a restriction on what I am allowed to offer Them: nothing but fire, incense and water. I get the feeling that this is for a number of reasons, since I have already experienced quite a few facets of how powerful water can be as an offering.
For example: last night I was instructed to offer pure water in a blue bowl. As I offered it in shrine, I felt a building static, like the air before a great storm. The shrine was dead silent – unusual for my town and home. Usually there is noise from the street or my family while I tend the altar. I offered the water, and Wepwawet grew cold and ancient as stone. He spoke in a quiet gravelly voice about fear, and fire, and what it means to be very, very old. What it means to be a part of the Universe. Big, frightening topics that I am still trying to understand. One thing that struck me in particular was this: ‘Silence is thunder’.
It can be – the shock of silence after the last note of an orchestra fades away is sometimes painful and uncomfortable. Silence is powerful. It can be a healing salve or a weapon. It can be as clear and peaceful as a lake, or as smothering as a room full of cotton. Silence can be awe-inspiring.
All this after offering Them water. I suspect I will have a lot to think about this week!
