The Song and the Flame

It started with a thread about songs people associated with various Greek deities. No, that’s not right. It started, specifically, with one suggestion from that thread.

With eyes shut tight
His dreams are sharp as a knife
And he is saving them
Until the timing is right
–Rhea’s Obsession, “Dreaming Blade”

Apollo, said fiamma. And I listened to the song, and I got it, I totally got it, I saw the correlation in ways that kind of scared the crap out of me a little. And then the subject of the nature of Apollo gets touched on over at Hellenistai, and then gets dragged out in the Apollonian/Dionysian discussion at TC. And this stuff keeps coming up, here and there and everywhere, and, like, OK. I get it.

It’s not that I’m not fully aware of… is it appropriate to refer to the dark side of a god of light? It seems twisting the metaphor until its back breaks, somehow. Whatever you call the bits of personality and disposition that lead to things like the slaughter of Niobe’s children and Cassandra’s curse, I’m well aware of their existence. It’s not as though I’m not aware of the potential light has to be harsh, to reveal more than you want to see (or be seen), to burn. It’s not as though I’m some fluff trying to make out like it’s all lollipops and rainbows with Apollo.

At the same time, I have shied away from that. I am aware of it. I haven’t given it a great deal of thought. I haven’t explored who He is, beyond the bits I’m interested in. I have allowed myself to conveniently shuffle away the fact that He is Plague-Bearer as well as Healer. I’ve let myself make it a comfortable relationship, one in which I never have to deal with the aspects of Him that I find intimidating, even frightening.

Well. Maybe I spot a little fluff lingering around after all.

Some time ago, I started a little personal practice of greeting Apollo each morning and evening. May your light shine on me throughout the day; may your light guide me even in my dreams. I dropped the good-night part, because I have a policy of never asking questions to which I do not wish to know the answer. I’d had a good think about the idea of being guided even in my dreams, and realized that might qualify as asking questions to which I didn’t really want to know the answer. So I stopped. I realize now that may have been a mistake.

Sometimes you have to know the answer, whether you want to or not.

And so it was I found myself lying in bed the other night, waiting for Tim to come to bed and trying to fall asleep, with those words ringing in my mind while “Dreaming Blade” ran on infinite loop in the background. “May your light guide me even in my dreams.” Say it. I tried, and my voice would not do it. Say it. Another try. You wanted a task. This is it. Know me. Say it. A sense of… almost being embraced, and simultaneously pulled off the edge into freefall, the arms around me a promise that I would survive the fall but also a promise that it must happen. “May your light guide me even in my dreams.” Say. It. Until at last I forced the words out, in a very small whisper.

And slept a dreamless sleep, wouldn’t you know.

What am I going to do about this? Read. Think. Write long, rambling, half-nonsensical blog entries like this one, I suspect. Remember. Be aware. I don’t know. Stop allowing comfort to lull me into complacence, I suspect. Or at least attempt something like that. Do my best to accomplish the task I’ve been assigned. The pressure feels off for now, but I don’t think it will stay that way if I just fall right back into the same old thing.