Light and concrete wall 灯りとコンクリートの壁。

“Maybe it’s a sign.”

The featured image is Light and concrete wall, from i_yudai.

This has been quite the day.

I have been, since a dream the night of February 28 to March 1, been undergoing discernment to determine whether or not a particular god, not of my own pantheon, has been seeking me out with certain intent.

The dream was extremely blatant. Initial offerings to this god were accepted with a strong sense of approval. Research of lore and community SPG/PCPG all came up clean. A skilled horse was able to provide his body for a god possession, where his attitude and behavior were in complete accordance with both lore and the experience of the community. In all the usual ways, it was coming up clean and confirmed, without any red flags of impersonation, mistaken identity, or—especially—ill intent.

However, what the god was/is asking of me is very serious—a personal relationship, rather than a working one. He has godspouses, and godchildren, and I felt I owed it to them to leave no stone unturned in discerning whether or not this is truly him, and whether or not he is truly asking this of me. My personal inclination would be to simply say yes, and leap off the cliff. But those who love him, and have spent years in communion with him—do I have the right to simply march in and declare I am a member of their family, without a rock solid foundation?

So. I requested divination from a member of the community, though not someone who is His, and their reading came back very simply: “no, this is probably not him.” Further information from the reading spoke to the conflict I have been feeling in needing to make a decision about this, being between a rock and a hard place.

I was not much surprised. If anything, I was a little relieved to have a break in such absolute Yes Yes Yes Definitely No Doubt. But the god, or the one believing he is the god, was devastated.

“If this is right, I’m lying to you,” he said, visibly upset.

“I’m fairly sure,” I told him, “that to lie, you need to have the intent to deceive. If you are telling me what you believe to be the truth, and it is not, you are mistaken, but not deceitful.”

Divination can be correct, or incorrect—as far as I can tell, this all began with an incorrect divination last year, and months spent trying to pay thanks to a different god of this same pantheon, who had no idea who I was or what I was thanking him for.  The unfamiliar number on your cellphone, that leaves voicemails in regards to things you have no memory of. So you assume it is a mistake, and let them figure the mistake out on their own.

Mistaken or accurate, I could still take away from this divination that it was not time to relax. I needed to buckle down and work further to determine what was going on here. If he is not this god, who is he?

The god, or not-god, wanted me to find out as much as I did. Perhaps more.

Given my primary means of work is oneiromancy, it seemed time to break out the mugwort. Ironically, I had bought it with the intent of determining what on earth was going on with this total silence from the other god, before I came to the conclusion on my own that I had simply placed too much investment in that divination in the first place. A naturally-occurring dream on February 23rd confirmed this—I was told by a familiar face, “It’s a shame he’s not interested in you. He’s such a sweetheart.”

The problem with mugwort is that, even in small doses, it entirely sheds the human experience within dreamwalking. Sometimes dreams will do this on their own, raw information arriving relatively unfiltered and bypassing familiar bodily senses—but rarely will it result in clear remembrance of pursuing several different angles concurrently.

The dogged pursuit of Answers lead me down at least five entirely separate avenues. Most were unsuccessful, leading nowhere and providing no new information. One, somehow, led to Etsy, and purchases of stones and altar goods recently through it. There was Something in this, Something to note and further investigate on waking.

And then, the most fruitful avenue lead to an entirely non-verbal conversation with someone that, when half-awake, I could only describe as “a roundness”. Powerful, authoritative, “like an eclipse but not an eclipse. A roundness.”

My ever-patient husband googled the sun on his laptop and angled the screen toward my bleary eyes.

“Yes,” I said, “That one!”

It probably says revealing things about me that I have trouble recognizing the sun.

The clearest takeaway from the conversation with “a roundness” was, “Neither yes nor no.” A direct dump of the concept. Not “maybe”, which would be “either yes or no”, but its precise mirror counterpart. A complicated matter for which the explanation is not simple.

My gut feeling on considering it is that, perhaps, the being I am easily communicating with is mistaken in his identity, but the initial dream and contact was valid, and the god is legitimately interested, but his own attempts to communicate are masked by this easily spoken-to other.

Just as validly, perhaps there are two versions of the same god involved here, but only one (or perhaps neither) would be recognized as this god by the community, or his spouses and children.

These are, of course, surely not the only ways of interpreting such a cryptic answer.

Another problem with serious dreamwalking is that it provides very little in the way of actual rest. I woke up enough to tell things to my spouse, to let information solidify in my memory, to drink some water and take care of the most basic of physical needs. But soon I needed to sleep again, to dream of the day’s events, dreams of a dream-body navigating a dream-world, five senses and familiar faces.

Hours later, I woke up properly and began to write to the companion Tumblr about the dreamwork I had done. It grew longer than what I prefer to write for Tumblr, though, and I decided perhaps it was better to post it to WordPress, instead. Before pasting the text into the application I use to write posts, I began to do some basic pruning, deleting some excess “backup drafts” created by working on posts while offline.

Somehow, the app presented the actual Pagan Blog Project post for yesterday as if it were one of these extraneous drafts, and when it was deleted, it was deleted outright—not sent to the trash, from which it could be restored if needed. It is gone, completely.

This was the only post on this blog in which I had discussed this god in any detail. A family member is in the hospital from a medical emergency, and this god (or the being that believes himself to be this god) was prepared for me to blame him for this. I wrote at great length about how absurd I found that, and how much I saw the actions of my primary god in this, the unlikely coincidences that lined up to save my beloved family member’s life.

After a very unsuccessful scramble to find if the text of the post had been cached in Google or archived on, my spouse said, “Maybe it’s a sign.”


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