I have said more than once that this blog is self-serving. A quote from The House of Leaves tops every page of it: “This is not for you.” Perhaps that seems like a rude reminder to present to my readers each time they visit, but the reminder isn’t meant for them. It is meant for myself. This blog is meant to detail my spiritual path, period. It doesn’t matter if it touches anyone else, or if anyone else appreciates the writing. All that matters is that I can go back, look at what I have written later on, and see where I once was and compare it to where I am now. That is its meat and potatoes function, and anything beyond that is just gravy.

At least that is what I have told myself. That is how I justified continuing writing here after I figured out that the ADF wasn’t for me. At that point the blog had become redundant, as I no longer needed a place to post my Dedicant Path essays. Looking back, I’m not sure I’ve used it that way at all, though I admit it’s possible I might be being too hard on myself.

I enjoy writing these Pagan Blog Posts. I haven’t written fiction professionally in a long time, and I miss the day-to-day of being at the computer, working with words. These entries give me brief glimpses of that, for which I am grateful. They are also the lone ideas that present themselves in a lengthy enough form for a blog post rather than a wee Tumblr snippet. Still, I can’t say I am writing about my practice per se. I just tend to write about whatever topic comes to mind, just like I am doing right now. Very, very rarely have they been about what is going on in my spiritual life in that moment. I keep asking myself why.

I’ve come to the conclusion that it is because I don’t have much of one, at least not in the way I used too when this blog began.

When I started this blog, it was for a purpose, as I said. I felt at that time as if I had a purpose as well. I was going to finish my ADF Dedicant Path work. Shortly thereafter, the first “July Is For Loki” celebration came along, and I threw myself into a month of creating daily devotional works for that too. Between the two, I had lots to do: reading, attending rituals and coffee meets, writing, making art, etc, etc. The etceteras themselves seemed to be vitally important, because I was bursting with ideas, one after another after another. I felt incredibly inspired.

Then July came to a close. I continued with daily devotionals for quite some time, even though Loki was beginning to sound off and I our exchanges were becoming strained. I thought perhaps our relationship was merely changing, and that this was a new realm I would have to explore. At the same time, I was growing even more uncomfortable with the ADF, not only at a distance but face-to-face. Though I enjoyed the Dedicant Path work, I had problems with the organization itself, particularly my local grove. I kept pushing at that too, because I wanted the structure of a defined work path. As my unease with both situations grew, I kept telling myself that my gut instincts about them had to be wrong since I had been incredibly happy only a couple of months before. It took me until late October to realize I hadn’t been talking to Loki at all. I quit the ADF then too. I’d dragged both things out for much longer than I needed to in both cases, and I felt completely disillusioned because of it, just completely and utterly burnt out.

Maybe I still feel that way. Much of my practice is in my head now, i.e. journey work. I don’t have a functional altar anymore, and I write prayers or create devotional art. Almost all of my hands-on work has stopped.

Since then, I have had what I would call ‘divine’ moments. Some of my journeys have been intensely powerfully. I don’t normally have physical sensations cross over into my earthly body during them, yet that has happened several times. I’ve brought lingering pains home and had to work through them. Spiritual events have definitely had impact. The thing is, the more impact they have had the faster and farther I have often felt like running from them, especially if they put me outside the ‘norm,’ whatever that is.

At the moment, the spirits that keep poking me and that are making my heart sing come from outside of any traditional mythology, and working with new gods and pop culture deities is regularly pooh-poohed in the pagan community. I’ve seen such worship frequently lambasted on Tumblr, and the arguments are cyclic and often nasty. That makes me want to avoid them at all costs. That makes me want to keep my experiences close to my chest and never share them with anyone besides my most trusted friends, as they have also experienced such spirits and would understand. Yet that is the very problem. Such closeness can cause an interbreeding of ideas and a tendency to not look at facts as critically. You need to reach beyond the circle of your loved ones for validation.

Or at least I do. Despite what happened last summer, I still have a terrible time trusting my gut instinct. I say things like, “Why weren’t the clues stronger? Why didn’t they come sooner? Why was I blind so long?” I continue to need to have my ideas pulled apart by others to gauge whether or not they are on the level. The problem is that I have also become overly sensitive to all the hate going on. On that my gut is very clear.

It churns after I post a particularly detailed journey in my Tumblr. It knots as I go over the events in my mind, wondering if they will question this one or that, if I will be seen as a faker, a special snowflake, or have some other name slung at me. I wonder if I will be called crazy, and specific aspects of the otherworld that I have related will be seen diseased portions of my psyche on display.

And then, more often than not, I receive a handful of likes, and about three comments. I never know what anyone thinks, or if they believe any of the things I fear, and I go through the ritual I reminding myself over and over that “this is not for them” until my gut quiets again.