I had a real struggle with this week’s Pagan Blog Project. I could not, for the life of me, think of anything that started with a C. All I could think about was procrastination, my constant companion throughout my spiritual life.
Enter my super-nerdy boyfriend, informing me there IS a word that starts with C and means procrastination — I just had to look up the procrastination giant at the KOL Wiki.
So. Cunctatitis. A disease with no apparent cure.
I am terrible at doing things when I say I’ll do them. This isn’t always my fault — currently my entire life is on hiatus while I heal from a spine injury, which rendered my Imbolc celebrations down to light a candle maybe at sundown hopefully. And finding matches in my grandparents’ place was nigh impossible, so even that almost didn’t happen.
Well, ok, I muddle on — but I know that once I get back to school and into my life, it’ll be one thing after another. It takes me so much energy just to keep myself together that I find it very difficult to keep up a daily religious practice — even when keeping up said practice gives me the energy needed to keep myself together. Usually. It’s a complicated thing.
My energy seems to come in spurts. Every once in a while I’ll get REALLY EXCITEDTM about my practice, my gods, spells, new ideas for worship or divination, and I’ll do a bunch of stuff and feel really amped up about it. The next day I can’t get out of bed.
It seems my cunctatitis is generated from my depression, so perhaps I should have left this entry to the D’s…except, well, you’ll notice I’m posting this on Saturday. So cunctatitis really does apply here.
This is one of the many issues I face with my mental health problems…this, and bouts of fetal-position crying-fits wherein I feel completely unworthy to even breathe. Part of my work with my deities is re-learning that I am worthy and awesome — the thing about Celtic deities is, generally speaking, if you genuflect and cry out “I’m not worthy!” to Them, They’ll say “Well, come back when you are and stop wasting my time.” Which is exactly the attitude I need. Tough love. (In varying degrees, depending on the deity. I need a kick in the arse? I go to Morrigan. I need a strong, inspiring speech reminding me of my own fire? Brighid. I need a hug? Manannan.)
This post is becoming a jumbled mess, undoubtedly because the very strong painkillers I’m on for my spine are now kicking in, and I should sign off before I fall asleep on my keyboard.
Anyway, point being…I got an inflammation. And the only prescription is…well, that I haven’t figured out just yet.
Just doing it?
Maybe I should make a shrine to Nike.
…who apparently gets very tongue-in-cheek while under the effects of painkillers.