Separate names with a comma.
There I was, just minding my own business, and then my hair started feeling curly. I remembered that Clifford had curly, wavy hair. But instead I got the name Kevin.
He feels very much like Clifford, but smaller, more streamlined, I guess, maybe a derivative of Clifford since C has gone on to bigger and better things. Maybe Kevin represents some unfinished business between us.
I've been feeling lonely and cut off since Heru told me to keep my butt at home for my own good. I think K is here to keep me company and hopefully help me smooth out some of my energy problems. Also, he seems curious about my life here. I told him that he shouldn't feel stuck here. He should be free to go back whenever he wants. He pointed out that I'm not very good at accepting help.
Previously, when a shard showed up in my headspace it was because I was supposed to help them, not the other way around. "Payback," he says, "and I like your music."
Yeah, we spent some time this afternoon dancing together. His movements are especially smooth, and it's good practice for me to loosen up enough to let him lead. I'm always in front, but if I relax and pay attention, I can follow what he wants to do.
Kevin is a Wind Rider and a Heru. The Wind Rider part is especially evident under the surface. He looks human, and he talks human, but I feel that is a thin veneer for convenience sake. I feel the sky in him.
I should be going to bed about now, but I had one of those shower thoughts that needs to be written down. I posted earlier today about deities having Names. Names were very important in Ancient Egypt, and it wasn't unusual for someone to have several names that filled various purposes.
I have several names that I've learned of over the years. The first one, the one that started all this kin stuff was Wind Rider (What does the Hawk call itself?). Spirit names require context because the words themselves don't give enough information on their own. The name is incomplete when spoken in English, or probably any other human language, but you can use the words to maybe tease out some of the hidden meanings. The same name spoken in another language would have a different set of connotations, and you'd probably tease out something else, but no less interesting.
For a long time I knew that Wind was a metaphor for magic itself, the chaos of creation, whatever you want to call it, like "winds of fate." I thought it was a somewhat passive name. When you ride in a car, you just sit back and the car goes wherever it goes. There's also the saying about "Don't pray for the wind to change, adjust your sails." The wind seems to have the controlling point there. It seemed very Taoist, very go-with-the-flow.
But what if I was reading it wrong?
A hawk does not simply get pushed around like a leaf or a plastic bag. Flying is a deliberate act, using the seemingly random air currents to reach a destination. The very shape of the wing molds the air around it. The hawk makes subtle and deliberate adjustments to its immediate surroundings constantly.
A retranslation of that name could mean "One who creates and sustains equilibrium upon the currents." That does sound like an extremely Horian concept. No, you can't control the wind, but you can reshape your immediate surroundings. You can take the chaos and temporarily direct it into your order.
My Mother named me Magic.
Everyone tells me I don't exist.
I can't prove them wrong.
The sun has turned. The light is rising again. In that place between awake and sleep it fills me up, and I feel I must expand. But I can't break through my shell. Pressure builds and it hurts. I scream inside my head and no one hears me. No one that I can see.
I just want to breathe again. I just want to stretch out a little.
I don't know how I got here. Did someone put me in this prison? Or did I volunteer for some half-cocked but noble reason? That sounds like something I might do. I don't remember. For all I know this containment suit might be the only thing keeping me alive. The air on this alien world might kill me if I break loose. Maybe I wouldn't be me anymore if I did. I don't especially feel like me now.
I remind myself to breathe, to stop pressing against the walls. I get out of bed, get breakfast, and pretend that everything is fine. Sometimes I believe it. As prisons go, this one isn't that bad.
I have a tendency to "grow roots" when I stay in a place long enough. I blame it on that god-king thing. When I grow roots, I start to feel a sense of ownership, of responsibility. I develop ties and connections.
If I don't grow roots, I just hang out and generally ignore whatever issues are afoot. I don't get invested. Not my circus, not my monkeys.
When I came here, I had no intentions of rooting. Been there, done that in other otherkin places. The down side of rooting is that then I start to care. I start to get aggravated by the same old stuff that crops up in every community. I start to feel like it's my job to do something about it. In short, it stresses me out. I feel like I have to take my own advice, lead by example and all that.
Frankly, I'm not sure if I have the energy to do all that again.
I'm a celestial. I'm also a polymorphic spirit-being anthro-hawk.
Gods, I'm so tired of being human. I know how to play the games. I know how to say the words. I know how to trip myself up with the best of them.
Don't you ever get tired of being wrong? All the freaking time.
I'm not Horus, or rather, I'm not the picture everyone seems to imagine of him. I'm not always a "him" either. But I sometimes do "him" things. Whoever it is that they're talking about, it isn't me.
So then I backed up and decided I was just a netjeri, a helper spirit cast from that mold. The divination turned sour: Heck no, not it, wrong. Sekhmet would be wrong. Ra would be wrong. They don't like being called wrong. They didn't like my bury-my-head-in-the-sand routine at all. Oh yeah? Well, maybe the real Horus wouldn't have been such a slacker. Maybe you've still got the wrong guy! The real Horus would probably be a much better person than I am. You should go talk to him instead. I heard he was a king. That part doesn't sound like me at all.
Even if I do have a few opinions on the subject. Strong opinions. The kind that tend to make me yell a lot. But I don't care, truly.
I don't understand this dissonance. The hawk, or falcon, is a solitary creature that cares only for its own nest. It does not plant crops. It doesn't plan for the future. It just watches, and waits, and occasionally grabs on to the right thing when it appears. The celestial doesn't do much more than that. It's also a creature of instinct, living in the now.
Humans disturb my calm. I'm sure you've got the wrong guy.
When was your awakening (if you had one)?
If you had one, do you believe something specific triggered your awakening?
If you had one, how long did your awakening last? Was it a sudden realisation, or did it take time?
If you had one, what did you feel during your awakening?
Let's see, round one was a mermaid phase complete with silly fantasies and phantom tail at age nine, most likely due to the movie Splash. I eventually figured out that the thing I liked about swimming was that it was as close to flying as I could get. I actually started out with a near phobia of drowning until I was forced to learn how to swim.
Round two was when I was twelve. I was idly thinking of soul names when a name popped into my head. (Though it was more like a description than an actual name.) It sounded exactly right. It was like a key that brought other things along with it. That's when I got into the hawk and anthro hawk thing. I knew I was some kind of spirit-being who decided to take those forms. I knew how to fight and I took my role of guarding a city very seriously. I ended up building an entire world out of it and I started writing stories about it. From what I learned later, some of it was on target and some of it was filler. I didn't know how to tell which was which at the time.
Round three, I was in college and teaching myself about meditation. I practiced for about fifteen minutes every day. Most of the time it was nothing more than a way to relax. Sometimes it turned into vision or narrative. That's when Sekhmet showed up and told me that I was an incarnation of Horus. I wanted to argue with her, but I decided that arguing with a lion-headed goddess might be a bad idea. Then I told myself that it was just a meditation/dream thing and I might as well follow it to see where it went. The moment I decided to go along with it I was overcome by grief that brought me to my knees. We looked out over the empty sands and said "It's all gone, brought down by the arrogance of the people." Heru and I had merged if only for a few seconds.
With journey work I look for a few things to check myself. That vision had several hallmarks of not being something I'd make up. There was the element of surprise. Not just the god thing, but also a gender switch. There was a sense of clarity. Every word spoken was deliberate and clear, not at all muddy, not at all open to interpretation or translation. And then there was emotional impact. I wasn't prepared for or expecting any of that. I hadn't been thinking of Egypt at all. Finally, there was that lasting quality. I shoved it aside and tried to ignore it, but it did not go away.
Awakening, when it happened, happened really quickly. Accepting it took years. I didn't want to be him. Being a god, a named god that people have heard of, is just mindblowingly ridiculous. Even if it wasn't, the person I saw was not the kind of person anyone would volunteer to become. It became that weird thing that I shoved into the closet and tried to forget about. Every now and then I'd take it out and maybe show it to someone. I always thought it was strange that none of those people held it against me. Then it would go right back into the closet when I still had no idea what to do with it.
The Thunder Being tricked me into being myself for awhile. I became a certified astral cowboy. I hunted critters. I purified souls. I fought and bled. I screamed as they burned away the scars so I could heal myself again, maybe do a better job of it this time. Then one day I was in their house. A closet door was left open with a mirror inside the door. In it, I saw a beautiful, golden young man. I smashed the mirror. No one that violent had any right to look that good. It seemed dishonest. I didn't even think of his name. I didn't want to hear it. Anyway, the TB eventually cured me of my self-destructive streak. I was still trying to shove my identity back in the closet though.
That was when Ra decided to step in and let me know that he was done waiting around. He practically drove me insane for two whole months by heating up my energy to painful levels every morning as the sun rose. Ok, Ra, I get it. "No" is not an option. Stop torturing me please.
Even then it took years of hanging out on otherkin forums, and then a few more years of hanging out with Kemetics to get somewhat used to the idea. Now I guess my awkwardness over having such an over the top kintype is somewhat overshadowed by my love for my divine family, my brothers, and the cool people I've met as a result. It took time, but I got better.
Hey, you, Big Guy....it's not all gone! We ain't dead yet.
Do you identify for spiritual or psychological reasons?
(from the questions here)
I primarily go with spiritual reasons. I believe that my soul is made up of the same stuff that Heru is made of. I'm not going with the reincarnation angle, because I'm not entirely sure that I've been incarnated previously. I'm not sure that it would make any difference if I had been. I believe my otherkinity was brought about because a soul is not just a blank slate. It's made up of a certain kind of living energy that contains its own patterns, information of a sort.
Here's a good metaphor for that.
I believe that a soul can sort the randomized stuff that happens in your life into certain patterns. If you look at the pattern, you may be able to backtrack to figure out what kind of energy is shaking the plate. But of course, our lives are not as simple as the set up in the video. The plates are not smooth and even. The material is not a uniform size, and there are competing waves in the environment that can warp the image. In other words, you're never going to get a perfect representation on earth.
It's amazing any of us ever figure this stuff out.
That said, I also keep my mind open to the possibility of psychological or neurological influences. Neurological patterns can also "shake the plate." Outside influences can change the type of media falls on the plate. Environmental factors can warp the plate itself. All we can see is the pattern. It takes some work to figure out how the pattern got there.
Who or what is Heru?
(Usual disclaimers apply. Your mileage may vary. Not valid in all 50 states. In other words, this is just my take on the subject.)
I sort of had two awakenings. The first one got me partway there, and the second one gave it a name. My answer to this question begins with the first awakening, my first impressions before I knew anything about the subject.
It started with a name. What does the hawk call itself? Not blood talon or anything edgy like that. What do hawks love more than anything else? Flying. They live to fly, unlike some other birds that only fly to live. Or at least, that's the kind of hawk I was.
Was I a hawk? It seems likely that I may have taken a spin in a feathered suit more than once. That has been my attitude from the beginning, not that I've definitely had a past life as a hawk, but that it seems very likely that I did. It sounds like something I'd do. Maybe as a vacation.
But there was always more to it than that. I was a spirit who wore feathers. And I carried a sword. It seemed right that I should have one. That means -- hands, and a body that could carry one and a mind that knew how to use one. Well, there we go into anthro territory.
But that name, somehow I knew it wasn't my name as an individual. It was a species name. Other spirits had the same energy I had. We all shared that name. We came from the same source. I always saw them as being blue.
There was a lady in blue who also had wings, and she was my mother, but also not exactly my mother. And everyone else was like me, spirits who were also animals who were also people. Lots of different animals. Lots of different spirits. And there were storms in the open desert that brought a chaotic magic that turned people's lives around.
That got complicated quickly. I used to write stories about the place. There was a city on the edge of a desert--probably in some alternate world version of Texas, right?
Sekhmet finally decided that she had to tell me straight out because I just wasn't getting it.
They talk about Heru the king or Heru the warrior or Heru the magician. All of these are true, but that's not what he means to me. He's my brother. He is many, many brothers. If you talk to a Kemetic and mention Heru, they will often ask "which one?" They're all born from the same source, but they've had different experiences. There are hundreds of them. Some are very large, and some are fragments too small to hold a complete consciousness. People only think about the big ones. But it doesn't matter. They're all part of the family.
Sometimes he tries to do too much. He spreads himself too thin, and then has to go back and pick up the pieces. Pull yourself together! It's a never ending process, much like recovering his Eye. It was made whole once, and again, and again. He is love and struggle and pain and healing and recovery. He is a fighter. He knows it's going to hurt, but he keeps going back because he wants to make it right.
That got complicated quickly. Whatever happened to the peaceful hawk days? How did one turn into the other?
What is your kintype?
I am a deity-shard of the god Horus/Heru.
What is a shard?
Originally I was told I was an incarnation of the god Horus. That didn't sit very well with me because, trust me, I know how that sounds. They have big medical words for people who go around saying things like that. So I focused on a much smaller word "an." I'm an "an" not a "the." That implies that there are, or were others. That was a relief, actually. Being a "the" sounds way over my paygrade.
I also knew that the god in question was still a god, still existing outside of me, and still doing god things. Granted, he probably isn't as busy with prayer requests as he used to be.
I came up with the shard idea to try to explain how this works. Yes, me. I don't remember hearing the word prior to my use of it. I used to love The Dark Crystal. That was also my introduction to the idea that entities can split. It's just a metaphor though. There are other metaphors I like using. One is that of a hologram. If you cut a piece off of a hologram you still have a whole image, but smaller and without as much of the detail. (Did you ever notice in the Dark Crystal movie that the shard was the same shape as the big crystal? Normally that wouldn't make sense.) Or there's horticulture, which I studied in school. You can take a cutting from a plant, get it to root, and you have a brand new plant, genetically similar to the original. And of course there are clones. I'm basically a Heru-clone, much smaller than the big guy. My soul is essentially made of the same stuff and has a history of being part of the larger entity. When people talk about the Higher Self, I just happen to know what to call him.
There is an ancient egyptian word that has been translated as "incarnation," but it doesn't have the same connotations as the english word. It more closely resembles my plant cutting metaphor above. It's more like "of the flesh" or something like a sprout that grew from the seed of a wheat plant. It does not say that one wheat plant entirely became a different wheat plant. More like, a piece of this flesh turned into that. Ancient translations are tricky though and I might have remembered that whole thing wrong. It would explain why Sekhmet used that word though, hoping I'd sort it out myself later.
There are also myths that show that an AE god, a Netjer, can create servants out of their own flesh, or that when a body part gets cut off it doesn't die and can go on and live its own life. Heru's hand was cut off after the late night "incident" with Set, and went on to be a smallish god in its own right. The fact that netjeru can split and merge also attests to their plasticity. Normal rules of biology and individuality do not apply.
Where all those metaphors fall short however, is that they imply a complete separation. That's not exactly the case. The first time I met Heru, I became Heru. I felt what he felt. I spoke his words. We still resonate with each other and communicate with each other in a way that blends the ideas of self and other. Sometimes Heru is he, and sometimes Heru is me. Sometimes I have good wifi reception, sometimes I'm off the grid. Sometimes I can't tell the difference because our energy is so similar I don't notice he's around until some stray thought crosses my mind and I realize he's been sitting there in the backseat for awhile.
Next time "Who and/or what is Heru?"