An Unexpected Meeting at the Crossroads

This is the first in a series of guest blog posts by up-and-coming author, Suzanne Hersey. Her first book, Faith, Food, Family, will be available from Iaconagraphy Press in Fall of 2018!

When I was a small and adventurous child, I loved to be outside in the woods near our home. There were a lot of kids in that neighborhood where I grew up. Many were wild boys that grew into even wilder men. We often spent summer days running in those woods and climbing trees. I wanted to be the one that could climb the highest; to stare down at those wild boys and scream in victory. I do not know how my mother survived me: even with my four older brothers as training wheels, I was a lot to handle, always coming home dirty and covered in pine pitch and scratches. I am glad she never had to watch those adventures in the trees. Not only did I climb, I moved from branch to branch and, yes, tree to tree. I loved the pull of gravity; the lack of fear. I do not know where that wild one went.

Several days ago, I released myself and a dear friend who is a lifelong dedicant of Hekate (Frances Keys, Iaconagraphy’s Assistant Editor) from our self-imposed imprisonment of book writing and editing and trekked up to Derry, NH, to attend the Rite of Hekate at our local Temple. To say that I was hesitant is an understatement. We had been to visit friends in our favorite shops in Salem, MA just the day before, to pick up some needed items and some gifts and reconnect with the magic that is the Witches we love. I knew I needed more connection to ease this gnawing anxiety that was plaguing me, but I did not see how participating in a rite that would require me to step outside of my comfort zone was going to help. So I went to acupuncture after work that day, got turned into Pinhead from Hellraiser in order to get some relief, and then ran home to change into Rite Appropriate attire, toss on some make-up, and hit the road to New Hampshire. The ride up was daunting: I knew I was going to have to interact with an Aspected Goddess in public; a Goddess I have on more than one occasion said that “I just do not get her”. I was terrified, but I had my friend with me, and she assured me the entire ride up that her Goddess would embrace me. The fear was palpable. I don’t do well with women as a whole. I have a few women in my inner circle of trust and many others that dwell in the next circle, but there are hordes of women that I keep Utangard, outside of my circle, because to me, women are betrayal and deceit. Sorry, scars from the past. My Gods are male, though Freya plays a huge part in my life as my partner is Fulltrui to her. She is often along on trips to the market, to bash me over the head with her Stav and get me to pick up fresh figs, flowers, or berries. But she is not my Goddess. My best friend is Fulltrua, dedicated to Hel. The closest I come to the companionship of a goddess is my childhood bond to Mary, The Virgin Mother. She was always my go-to girl.

So here we are at the Rite, and it is beautifully run and warm and inviting and I am crying in my seat. I will have to walk the circle; I will have to ask one of the priestesses that are aspecting Hekate a question; I will have to kneel before a woman, witnessed by everyone in that room, and give perfect trust. I cannot think of what to say and I am terrified to be rebuffed publicly. My friend and I walk and she has her moment (she will be speaking about her experience in her own blog post here on Iaconagraphy) and I walk around one more time and I come to her, embodied in the one priestess of that temple that can drive me to stutter like a fool because she is so powerful and so beautiful. I kneel, and I weep. I did not just cry, I wept and sobbed. Hekate embraced me, drawing me into her and asked me what I would know and I said “I am so afraid”. There was much more to that conversation, after she had calmed my tears, but that is for me and this Goddess. I returned to my friend, continued to quietly sob and gather myself. I was at peace, I was loved and I was mortified that I had just destroyed this woman’s–this Goddess’–clothing with my tears. But we stayed after, and we talked with friends and shared the absinthe and honey cookies that I had baked for this Goddess I thought I did not know or want.

You see, she loves me, and she was with me all along. When we were to envision her, I tried to see her in my mind’s eye as others see Hekate; I tried to see her as my best friend sees Hel, and then I took a breath and there she was and there I was: a child placing flowers at the foot of the Virgin Mary. There was my go-to girl, dressed all in black lace–the black Madonna–giving me side eye and a smile. She has loved me all along. I love my human mother, how can I not? But she never knew me or accepted me or understood her broken child. She called me her broken child. But Hekate told me that I was perfect as she made me and she loves me and that one misstep does not break me. “Release your fear,” she said; “yes, Mother,” I replied. And so I met the Goddess at the crossroads and I will climb that tree and swing from its branches again, but that tree is Yggdrasil and the branches are faith, spirit, and magic. And I know that no matter what branch I touch, my Gabriel-who-is-Heimdall, my Tyr, and my Goddess are there to catch me when I fall or jump. You see, she came to me afterwards, and she told me to write this; to set aside my fear. She said this to me, and I say this to you, so that we may meet at those crossroads and we may swing and climb those branches of Yggdrasil, no matter what we call our Gods, Goddesses, or our paths, because it is all one tree, one well, one magic:

“For if I know you and you are my child, I will catch you, so have no fear. For if I do not know you, because of your ill deeds, you will not find your way to the crossroads.”