Hello, dear community,
Today, I’m perched at my writing desk, a place of many wonders and witticisms, to talk about something close to our hearts and hearths. Yes, it involves that most hallowed of our rites, but before your eyebrows ascend to the high heavens, let me assure you, this is a journey sprinkled with a pinch of mirth and a dash of playful trickster energy. So, grab your favorite brew, be it mead, tea, or something more spirited, and let’s muse together on the sacred and the oh-so-humanly profane.
In our beautifully woven tapestry of beliefs and rituals, there lies a gem known as the Great Rite. It’s a sacred dance, a profound union of the divine masculine and feminine, a moment where we touch the divine. Now, imagine my surprise, my dear kin, when I hear this term tossed around in jest or used to describe the act of love in its most humanly, delightful, and yes, sometimes hilariously awkward form.
I can’t help but chuckle at the thought, for are we not beings of both earth and spirit? Yet, as your friendly neighborhood ‘Papa’—a title I bear with a mix of pride and a healthy dose of humility—I wish to nudge us gently back to reflection.
Imagine, if you will, our Christian friends referring to sharing a pizza as Communion. A slice of pepperoni, the body of the divine, and a sip of cola, his blood shed for thee. It sounds absurd, does it not? A humorous reflection, but one that holds a mirror to our current musing. Just as the sacred act of Communion transcends the mere consumption of bread and wine, so too does the Great Rite soar beyond the confines of physical union.
Sex, my dear ones, is wonderful. It’s a dance as old as time, filled with joy, pleasure, and sometimes a bit of confusion (left sock, where art thou?). Yet, when we call this dance by the name of a sacred rite, are we not, in a way, diminishing the profound spiritual significance of that rite? Just as we wouldn’t reduce the myriad forms of love to a single expression, so too should we preserve the unique sanctity of the Great Rite.
This is not a call to arms, nor a stern reprimand from atop an ivory tower (though, a tower does sound rather splendid). No, this is merely a nudge, a whisper on the wind from your ol’ Papa, to remember the weight words carry in our hearts and the realms beyond.
Let us laugh, let us love, and let us live with the fullness of our beings. But let us also hold sacred those rites and rituals that connect us to the divine, to the earth, and to each other. There is room in our vast universe for both the sacred and the profane, for both reverence and revelry.
So, as we continue on our paths, woven together by magic and mundane, let us tread lightly with our words, cherishing the sacred even as we embrace the joyous mess of human existence.
With a twinkle in my eye and the deepest of respects for our shared journey,
Papa Onyx
