By the Goddess, thru ME

Warning: If you are an atheist, a religious ZEALOT of any religion other than Paganism, OR just easily offended by what you don’t understand — then this blogpost ISN’T for you. Got That!? “Called by Goddess”
After a lot of thought as I make my transition to the old religion, I’ve spent a good deal of time and meditation thinking about being called by Goddess.
See, I knew nothing much about Paganism before she called me home. A lot of people find me and my calling a bunch of bat shit crazazy, but I promise you, I’ve not been off my med since round the 2nd week of March—and I was called by her wayyyyyyyyy before that, shortly after the start of the new year.
She never gave her name during these dreams-other Goddesses were there, along with the God, her consort. They welcomed me, embraced me as they called me home. As I was being carried to them I was heavily warned that once connected, once the calling was accepted and answered, I belong to the Goddess and her consort, for the remainder of time. At the time, I never asked her name. I only knew that I was finally home, apart no longer from those that were her chosen. I also knew that she was not a Celtic, Norse, or Irish goddess. She was older than that. Last, I knew there would be no others; she was my sole Queen of Heaven, she and her consort, the God. But his name wasn’t important, because I came from her, and would return back to my position at her feet, after this lifetime had ended. And when I wished more time back on earth-so mote it be with her well wishes. I’ve always, inexplicably been fond of ankhs, my most sacred belongings are in a box with the eye of Horus on it, on my desk at work where it’s needed best of all. This box was a mobile altar of sorts, I just didn’t know it back then. Second, Roses. Roses attract me so strongly sometimes that’d I’d use my last $20 bucks to buy a dozen of them vs. Dinner for tha( night.
Then came the knowledge that her Priestesses often dressed to the 9’s, and had perfect makeup for the ceremony…but there were some that never combed their hair—KNOTS are sacred to her, many religions consider them a means of binding, a sign of power. So while some Priestesses braided their hair in her honor, the most holy never would, leaving their hair to grow wild and naturally Knot on their heads. Everyone that knows me well knows how much I hate dealing with hair, and rarely if ever comb or brush mine more than enough to simply pin it up for work.
Coincidences? Most certainly. Signs? Absolutely. But her legend and stories hit me the hardest when I read that she had been worshiped since back around the 5th Dynasty BC, up through to the end of the Roman empire. I was completely taken aback when finding out that early Christianity was formed closely to that of paganism, sans many different gods, but more likely, stories of people like Mary Magdalene (Christ’s mother, fashioned after Isis) and Christ himself (fashioned after Isis’ brother-husband Osiris, murdered by his own brother Set), ie. Judas Iscariot. A converted belief system, based on both blind faith and the overwhelming need to convert others to the ways of Christianity—mostly based after the old religion itself.
And then…the nail in the coffin for me was whom Isis patronized…Mothers, Children, Artisans, *Healers* and *dream interpreters*…the latter two being what I was starting to embrace-my power to heal others as an empath, taking their anger, sickness, rage and mental ‘bile’ into myself…I, whose dreams are almost always premonitions directly related to future or present happenings for those around me. I needed to read no more…
As I begin to learn more thru older books and teachings, I’ve realized I want no part in a coven (yet), that I will remain a solitary practitioner to the Great Mother, also known as Aset. I realized that I’d finally found faith, pure and true again. And that it doesn’t matter who or what you worship, as long as you BELIEVE in something other than yourself. Because if you don’t, you’re already in a Hell of your own making.


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