Shai and the Bucket of Sand

I spend a lot of time on pagan internet forums. Online social networking is practically required for most of the pagan faiths, especially those with small memberships. Kemetics, like many others, are scattered across states, countries, and continents, and forums provide a virtual meeting place where ideas can be exchanged and loneliness fended off. Kemetics in general value community, which is sacred under kemetic belief, and for me it is no different. Especially given that sometimes, a simple question or comment uttered by another can lead to a significant spiritual revelation.

I recently happened upon this question at my favorite forum:

Renenet and Shai, Predetermined Fate?

What are some of the current views and interpretations of Renenet and Shai?

From my understanding they are basically predetermined fate. Your fate is determined at birth and remains unchangeable, except perhaps in extreme instances and only at the intervention of another deity.

I can completely comprehend of ancient peoples having this view as so much was uncontrollable in their lives; diseases, forces of nature, famine, and on and on. But in today’s western world, where we can control so much and have social mobility, there is more of a free will mentality.

How applicable to western life today are Renenet and Shai? Are all things predetermined or only some things?

Being the gun-ho practitioner I am, I offered the following:

Short honest answer: I haven’t got a clue; the jury is still out for me as to what exactly ‘fate’ means in a modern context. In fact, I had to look them up just to recall who they were. But…they are Names. That said, I would assume they can answer questions about their own nature, and I have been wanting to investigate and approach some of the lesser known Names, so…I’ll go ask.

I tend to forget that asking the gods a question is not like calling up a relative on the telephone. You don’t have to walk over to the phone and dial a number and wait for the other to pick up. I don’t believe that the gods are omnipresent as some others do, but the turn around can be fast…really fast. Especially in the case of those who obviously don’t get a lot of calls. I barely had enough time to turn off the laptop and walk into my bedroom before Shai tapped me on the shoulder then abruptly proceeded to deliver a potent metaphor for fate. I remember being relatively shocked and completely unprepared for the encounter.

I was a bit surprised to find Shai so vocal. He, like many of the Names, is generally perceived as more of a ‘personification of concept’ than a god, but unlike Ma’at, he had no particular cult in ancient times and references to him are few. That said, I have no doubt it was him, and the encounter served to remind me that even the lesser known Names are still Names.

The image was both simple and complex. A wooden bucket filled with sand, tipped so that the sand was spilling out onto (presumably) a floor/ground that I could not see. As is often the case, the image was accompanied by a conceptual stream of understanding delivered to me in the absence of words which I have translated into our language thusly:

“Fate is falling sand. You say I know the future for I know the eventuality of the sand’s journey. I do not know the journey of each grain. I know not what path you will choose to take through this world. But if you desire a destiny, some things will need to be predestined. If you ask me to guide a single grain, I must push aside some paths in favor of your heart.”

I am still stunned by the beauty of the image, and still trying to unravel all of it’s secrets. Dua Shai.

Doubt and Speaking to Gods

Doubt is a healthy force on my path, and at no other time is doubt stronger than when I am speaking with others about my divine encounters. In the moment of communication with deity, doubt does not exist for me, and even for a while after contact, the warmth of enlightenment hangs about me like an impenetrable shroud, making me impervious to the skepticism of others. But when the afterglow has faded, the candles have been blown out, and the glaringly artificial light of my lap top flickers back on, doubt returns with cold vengeance and stops me from publishing that blog post into which I have poured all my religious ecstasy.

The desire to share divine wisdom after receiving it is nearly overpowering. Whether that is simply the world’s design or my innate instinct as a teacher, I don’t know. But I do know that my doubt keeps that desire in check. Will they believe me or write me off as a coot? Do I sound schizophrenic? For that matter, now that I consider it, am I schizophrenic? My scattering mind moves quickly from worries about the social impact of relating conversations with my gods to fearful wonderings about my sanity. Of course, I have heard it said in many places that if one can wonder about one’s sanity than one most assuredly is not insane. That knowledge calms me but does not reassure me enough to click ‘post’. Did it really happen or did I imagine it? Even if it did happen, how can I possibly put it into words?

It is the dilemma, I think, of many among the faithful. The reason we preface our revelations with disclaimers. “This is just my personal experience, take it as what you will…”, “I think I may have heard one of them say…”, “My UPG is that…”, etc… We find ways to make our experiences seem more humble, less threatening, less crazy sounding. We fuzz out some of the ‘crazier’ bits and pieces, modify our manner of speech, summarize the end result, or hold our tongue altogether: all to avoid saying what we really feel, all to avoid potentially looking like a fool.

Part of the reason for this blog is to break myself of that habit, to write an unadulterated account of my religious experience. This means being honest about my communications with my deity. My stories may seem odd or even ‘crazy’ to those standing on the outside, but if I am to write a naked biography of my religious self, I won’t be able to soften the edges for the sake of humility.

I don’t expect anyone to fully believe me. But in reality, every time we encounter some vocal soul out on the net, we have to make a judgment call about the genuineness of that person. We have to decide if what we are reading is real or a figment of someone’s imagination: a fantasy avatar that doesn’t truly exist offline. I’m not asking any more of my readers than any other blogger out there. But I am assuming that if you keep reading, you are getting something out of my story, whether you believe in me and my conversations with god or not. With that as my comfort, I will write from the heart. Doubt be damned.

Perspective

Human perspective is a powerful force. It shapes our lives by shaping the way we perceive our world. It amazes and humbles me to know that there are as many forms of that power as there are individuals on this planet. I think it could be well argued that the sheer diversity of our perspectives is one of the greatest achievements of our species, second only to our discovery of a means of communicating those perspectives to others: language. At its roots, the blogging movement is all about that linguistic exchange of personal world-view. We learn and gain wisdom by peering through one another’s eyes for brief moments. It may well be the pursuit of that kind of inter-human understanding keeps us coming back to these online streams of personal thoughts.

For a while I have kept an online journal which recorded my random musings and, occasionally, when I was feeling ambitious, my religious insights into the world around me. My faith is a large part of who I am, so my wanderings into the realm of theology were hardly out of keeping with the tone of my journal. For years, I meandered back and forth between idle chatter and something decidedly more serious. Then I began to feel a need for a division of content. I’ve felt a need to collect my very serious religious writings into a single place, a place where the sole purpose was to record and relate those ideas, and their effects on my life, to others. In short, I wanted to delve deeper than “today I went shopping” and into the realm of more meaningful blogging. The Setian and the Feather was born from that desire.

I am an American 20-something living in that great immoral center of commerce and ‘entertainment’ known as Las Vegas. “Sin City”, to some, though the parts of it I see on a day to day basis are decidedly less exciting. What happens here may stay here, but the people who live here often don’t, which creates a very transient environment that does not foster long term relationships. In fact, Vegas abhors a past, and actively seeks to tear down and replace anything which is more than a decade old. It surprises me sometimes, that I’ve chosen to live in a city so irreverent of history.

I have a great respect for history, more specifically, the history of Ancient Egypt. Or as I call it in the old Egyptian language: Kemet. I am Kemetic by faith. A modern practitioner of a religion that died thousands of years ago. A follower of forgotten gods and a keeper of wisdom long lost to the passage of time and the all consuming desert sands. I am an old soul in a new world, struggling to match what I know from my religious study to what I see around me.

This blog will follow that journey, and if you would like to come along for the ride, even if only for a few moments, to glimpse the world through the eyes of a child of the old ways: Em Hotep, as we say in my faith. I cherish the company.