I have consumed myself in the study of religion. They’ve all made me equally happy, which also means they’ve left me equally unhappy. As incomplete as I entered. People question these parts of me, perhaps me more than most. But I have a complicated past with spirituality. As much of a child of science as I am of witchcraft.
There are tremors that surround us, like the sustained notes of a song. Hidden vibrations. Some may be more tuned to them than others. What is it that the chosen must do? Endure uniqueness? to be alien, rejected, embraced for being different? To be disenfranchised from those around you, isn’t that the most dreadful curse? To be different, to be powerful, is that not a defined gift? To be alone, to be seeking another who shares your rarity. Then you would not be in solitude. A tribe, a family. Then you’re no longer unique. Nor are you alone.