The other night I laid down to go to sleep, and a gaping hole of loss opened up inside of me. The house, my way of life – it’s gone. Normal will change forever; as part of this process, the entire structure of my house is being raised 10 feet. So even the parts that weren’t damaged will have a different view, a different feel.
My ability to go before the gods is gone, too, even if temporarily. I can do Senut, sure – but I am deeply missing the work of the priesthood. It is satisfying work, work that fulfills, work that feeds a part of me that I can barely even sense when I am not engaged in it. Even Senut is dicey, with housekeeping staff in and out of the room, sickness settling in due to cramped quarters, and the restrictions on candles and incense as if I were back in the dorms.
What can I do? I can wait. In time, the house will be finished; we will have the ability to go back and start putting the pieces back together. The journey has been troubling – we have been blocked at what feels like every turn by politics, poor communication, policies changing last minute… we have been on a merry-go-round of paperwork. I pray, with all my heart, that this change will usher in more stability in my life.
And… I can acknowledge the gods in my own small ways: seeing the sunrise, singing in the car, teaching a child, loving a friend.