We’re lonesome folk. It’s built into the structure of us, perhaps.
Voluminous writers, artists, and movers. But usually spinsters, hermits, or lone wolves. I’m no exception.
It’s a strange world for someone so oriented towards decay and abyss, full of pleasantries, expectations, and superficialities I will never fully understand.
People who meet me first through writing are often rather shocked by my countenance in real life — that I am so ebullient, expressive, and generally “perky.” They expect something more depressive, perhaps, with the time I put towards the process of decay and the age of climate disaster.
Conversely, I don’t last long on the manic pixie dream girl pedestal people tend to put me on when they meet me in life. They wanted something more suggestible and less challenging than I turn out to be, I suspect.
I am an acquired taste, and I have a rather picky palate myself.
I exist at the liminal space between transcendence and the failure of the light. Once I looked into the Abyss, I couldn’t look away, and becoming friends with it is the journey, and the struggle, of a lifetime.
I don’t rage against the dying of the light. I rage with it, and I go where it carries me.
I trust my constitution at this point. I’ve been in enough foxholes to know there’s nothing that can crush my soul. They’ll have to kill my body, if they want me off this mortal plane.
And after my dark night of the soul that finally stuck, I was never afraid of the journey down ever again.
I go with Lilith down as deep as she’ll take me, as deep as I can stand. And I always ascend the same ebullient, expressive, “perky” me I’ve always been. Perhaps more so. As fear vacates, spirit expands to fill the gaps. As attachment weakens, presence strengthens.
It’s the hard way, yeah. But it’s my way.
Finding like minds, places to be, circles to safely exist in, is a lifelong struggle for us. All of us, that I’ve ever met, corresponded with, or read, without exception. Many of us also seem to be born into weak or stormy family situations. Everything has its price, and this is ours. This is the wound we carry through life. Lilith exiled to her sea, Lilithians exiled to their art.
Some of us make it, and eventually cobble together a community where we can be genuine. Most of us do not. I am still on the journey with good, yet tenuous, progress. But being the ebullient, expressive, perky sumbitch I am, I am not discouraged. Perhaps that will turn out to be my shield against the arrows of this life.
We demand more than most of our path. And perhaps, also, we demand more than most of our friends, families, and lovers.
I do not ask them to stare into the Abyss with me. But they still see it when they look in my eyes. They feel it when I meet them with an unabashed, uncomfortably honest response. They read it in my writing.
The Abyss is part of what I am. It always will be, until it takes me completely.
To love someone like me is to love with total acceptance.
You can’t control it. You can’t run away from it. You can’t change it.
Just like you can’t control, run from, or change entropy, death, and the abyss.
It will wait for you. And someday, it will take you, whether you’re ready or not.
Perhaps it will be the frightening nightmare implosion everyone is so scared of it.
Perhaps it will be the ebullient laughter of a cosmic dying of the light.
Which one they see when they look in my eyes is the most accurate Rorschach test I’ve ever known.
But these days, I find places for myself. Once in a while, I meet people who can love with acceptance. And now and again, I can even do the same.
And slowly, they teach me that expansion is as much a part of Abyss as contraction. That it’s alright to watch the stars swirl around my black hole. That the human soul is really quite a special thing.
Occasionally they even teach me tact, but not often.
And in those moments of simply being is Lilith at her fullest. The Abyss, met with presence and joy.
The final frontier for anyone on her path is to not forget to live, as you die over and over again.
Keep living.
I must say. I have never seen someone else who sees Lilith as I do. Who discovered her, before they did any research on her. Who was simply claimed by her, from a young age.
I resonate with almost everything you have said. I discovered this website through your reddit AmA after Googling a word I have only ever heard myself use. “Lilithian”
Everything you said about us, “like herding cats” “lone wolves” it’s all similar to what I too have said. I often joke when others ask me about others that share my spirituality, that it is highly likely we would turn on each other to gain her favor. We do not form “cults.”
Lilith first came to me in dreams at a very young age. She had no name then. And the story of how I discovered who she was is too long. It spans this entire lifetime, and likely many others.
I would be very much interested in discussing some of our “shared” experiences if you ever have time. With Regards. May the waning moon guide you.
A large part of the reason I wanted to make this site — the blog in particular – was to try to find others like me. We’re around. Few and far between. I read about a couple of them when I was a girl and the internet was a more personal place (like Shy David, who I have linked in the Broad category), and it always felt like a loss when I couldn’t find a way to reach them. Flashes in the dark.
You are right, we will never be a cult. By definition, we are defiantly weightless. We even seem to go through seasons of life, moving from sea to desert. I’m in my sea phase.
But it would be wonderful, and perhaps one of the more rewarding aspects of my little lighthouse on the internet, if a few of us were to meet, and talk, write about her, and perhaps understand each other in a way the rest of the world doesn’t typically understand us.
I’m glad you stopped by, and thanks for your kind words.
I myself am about to turn 30 and have only recently become a father to my beautiful daughter, I don’t know what I would call this phase… perhaps the forest phase or mountain phase, as I feel myself getting stronger and more spiritually aware every day.
I have always worked exclusively with dark feminine energy and I’m sure Lilith’s constant influence is the reason. I even met my partner through Lilith in a wierd and seemingly impossible way.
To me. She has always been beautiful and terrifying, a daughter of Storms. A shape-shifting shadow that dances between realms and lies betwixt. Even if hubris can be forgiven for I speak honestly, we are apart of one another her and I, inseparable.
She is closer to me as a second personality than a “Goddess” as she demands no worship, only love and willpower and fury.
Sometimes she is a distant thing, like a Goddess, more removed, other times she is just under my eyes, ready to burst forth and take my body and breathe my air.
She is impossible to define, choosing often to communicate through imagery, sound and vibration. Though she does speak, I can’t help but feel my mind distorts the message somewhat. But I know this… She has always called me “Little one.”
As soon as I read that in your texts, my whole body froze. I knew you and I, we are hers.
We have very similar experiences. It’s why I dislike the term “worship.” It makes it sound further away than it is. More powerless than it is. In some way, we are hers and she is ours in equal cosmic measure, though we are smaller. It’s the current and the being we belong to.
I’m glad you found this place and I’ll be happy to hear your thoughts (the blog will probably ebb and flow; I’m particular about what I share of my actual practice).
Sometimes I take refuge in your blog, because the way you write gives a shape to some emotions or feelings that I feel but which i cannot fully express.