the-lady-sigyn:

by Fuensanta Arismendi

_{I am burned beyond words.
Deeds are hollow.
My soul is as light as a fossil
beyond all passion, all joy, all love.
But love spawned duty once and for love’s dead sake,
I’ll hold the bowl,
go through the motions,
and hope they taste to You
as once loved ones did.
Please may this be as cruel and brief
as the ebbing tide;
and may the blessed waves
wash us clean of this drought.
I’ll hold the bowl.}

“Hold the bowl. I never thought it would feel so foreign and yet so right to do so. We always think of serving the Gods by scurrying around doing things. Now I serve by ‘just standing there.’ I serve just by keeping still. My back itches. Hold the bowl. What does She have to look at as She holds the bowl day after day, year after year? Is Her Husband all She looks at, all She needs? Or does She sometimes look away, to dank walls and bare ground? Can She see Loki at all, or is it dark in the cave, endless night? Hold the bowl. If it is dark, how can She tell when the bowl overflows? When Loki screams? Damn, I’m crying and I can’t blow my nose. Hold the bowl.

Do They speak to each other? What is there to articulate when this endless choice to stay and endure says all that needs to be said? Does Sigyn think of Her children or has grief turned Her to stone, the better to give Her strength? No, I don’t think so––She is the Lady of the Invincible Heart, the Goddess of Unyielding Gentleness. Hold the bowl. Time is going so slowly and I know I’ll stop after ten minutes––what must it feel like for Her, who does not even know if this will ever stop, this infinity of stillness and grief and pain? Hold the bowl.

The monologue goes on, combining fervor and triviality. At times, one reaches a state of grace in which no thoughts or feelings intrude. All one’s being is intent on simply being still, and being there. And when the ten minutes have elapsed, part of me is relieved to stop, and part of me feels exiled from my true place, the place I fear, the place I pray to be in because if They are in that cave, then that cave is my only home. Hold the bowl…

Ten minutes seems like nothing until the weight of the bowl fills my hands, pulls at my arms. It seems to me that if everyone who loved Sigyn and Loki held the bowl for just a little bit, just ten minutes a day, perhaps She would not have to hold it at all.”

––––––

_{[A bit lengthy, but I needed to share this excerpt because it hit me in a really deep part of my heart. That last sentence, in particular, almost moved me to tears.]}