Moody June

June has been a rewarding but exhausting month. I've been ill twice, and now that I am well I find myself combating a bout of depression. Meh.

For the fifth year in a row I've helped put on the Babalon Rising Festival, and, as always, I come away from it not know what to say about it. The event is excellent, even if I am blowing by own trumpet, and it gets bigger and more powerful every year. Babalon Rising is a festival primarily for Thelemites, although we have a large NeoPagan and New Orleans Voodoo component. The festival itself is designed to be a continuous four-day ritual, with its climax on Saturday night during an event we've named The Feast of the Beast. We've been working the festival annually as a trip up the Tree of Life, which made this our Tiphereth year. Accordingly, the sun came out in full force, and I spent much of the event with heat exhaustion. Good things prevailed, however. I assisted in facilitating a Qadishti sacred touch event, and served as one of the multiple women who invoked Babalon during the climatic ritual. I helped run, and eventually took over, our annual Kabbalah Bar event, which involves providing sepherotic themed body shots off of a living Tree of Life. The gifted and delightful Louis Martine led a wonderful ritual to help clear the Gulf of oil. I don't think I've ever heard a better drum circle than we had Saturday night.

I love Babalon Rising, but it is like my child who has grown and moved on to things I never knew it could be. I consider myself lucky to be its parent, and ready to support it in whatever way it needs me each year. But it does not nurture me. The magic it represents is in a place that I like to visit sometimes, but I do not live there anymore. I've become more solitary, and maybe even a little jaded in my own approach to magic. I'll always be a witch at heart, but I'm in a place right now where serving the Gods interests me far more than rituals, potions, and pretty magic. My sense of wonder rests firmly with the Gods these days, and less and less with my own Will or ego. This has less to do with personal growth, I think, than with sheer exhaustion. I am no longer the Mage in her circle commanding the universe to bend. I am trying harder to bend with the universe.

I helped Laurelei with an Aphrodisia ritual during the festival, and it was lovely. I find much that is beautiful and comforting to my spirit in Greek ritual and myth. I was the hydrophoros for the pompe, carrying my beloved Goddess amphora. Laurelei established a stunning shrine to Aphrodite on the Our Haven grounds and we held the ritual there.

The Arrephoria happened in June. It is one of Athena's most important festivals, and is usually a big deal in our household as it combines mysteries of both Athena and Aphrodite. Alas, I was very ill during the Arrephoria, and did little more than burn some incense in tribute this year. Athena understands my lack of observance, of course, but I've been internally berating myself over it all month. The whole truth is that I've been internally berating myself about everything this month. I've entered a depression, which is a classic and expected component of my being Bipolar I. My medicines do an excellent job of keeping me in a sane and acceptable middle range of mood and productivity, but even they cannot keep me from dipping a little low or flying a little too high ever now and again.

Depression for me is a lack of creative flow, a general sense of impending dread, and an urge to sleep around eighteen hours a day. You can see why I haven't blogged much this month. I haven't touched my manuscript either, nor my paints, nor yarn. Athena is understanding. Look at the famous relief "Athena Mourning" and you can see that sometimes her heart hangs heavy as well.

Gardening Projects

May has been a busy month for me. I started this month at the Our Haven annual Beltane festival, where I danced the maypole and frolicked in the mud.

Laurelei and I have big plans for plantings throughout the grounds this year. First there is the Aphrodite shrine which Laurelei blogged about here. It is located within a growing hedge labyrinth which we started several years ago. We also have plans for a Dionysus shrine within the labyrinth, complete with grape arbors and statuary.

At another shrine on the grounds, the White Goddess shrine, located in the orchard where our cabin sits, we are going to plant climbing blue roses and moonflowers up the four trellises supporting the dome. I've included some photos of the shrine in this post. You can see our beloved cabin in the background.

I've been hard at work on the website for this year's Women's Goddess Retreat. I gave the site a full redesign and I'm pretty pleased with it. We've submitted a proposal to the Our Haven elders planning a Women's circle on the site. We've plans to add many plantings to the circle if it gets approved. We are considering starting with fairy roses and wisteria. We'd like to add several "womanish" herbs and plants to the area like motherwort and cohosh.

Here at home we're adding some lavender to our herb garden and many veggies to our food garden: strawberries, tomatoes, peppers, and cukes.

Love and Wine

Heavy clusters of grapes hang from the gnarled vines: indeed, Aphrodite is only more attractive when united with Bacchus; their pleasures are sweeter for being mixed together. Apart, they have less spice.
Pseudo-Lucian, Erotes: description of the temenos of Aphrodite at Knidos

Wine is the milk of Venus.
Ben Jonson

"[Wine] provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance."
Shakespeare, Macbeth Act II Scene III

Well, what does Shakespeare know about it anyway? The Greeks, wise in the ways of moderation -- including the moderation of moderation -- mixed their wine with water and knew the merits of raising a cup in the spirit of romance.

So let me toast the beauty of the lovely Laurelei, dutiful servant of shapely Aphrodite, and sweetest of mates.

Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss within the cup,
And I'll not ask for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
Doth crave a drink divine;
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
Ben Jonson

Crown of Violets is now available

I mentioned that Asteria Books has been busy, and one of our labors became available today! Crown of Violets, a collection of devotional work dedicated to Aphrodite is now in print. I contributed to this collection and Laurelei edited it and has many pieces in it herself. The ebook is only $2.50, so if you've any interest in Aphrodite at all please do check it out.

Why did Athena desire the golden apple?

"Why should a keen yearning for lovely beauty distress her [Athena], to whom Klotho had assigned a marriageless and childless virginity."
~Telestes, Fragment 805 (from Athenaeus, Scholars at Dinner)

This question has vexed me for months. It has prompted its own share of hack fiction on my part (see Athena's Illiad Parts 1 & 2) and a slew of UPG revolving around what feel like conversations with the Goddess on good days and slow descents into madness on bad ones.

I can understand Aphrodite and Hera's claims to the golden apple inscribed KALLISTI: for the fairest. Both Goddesses were associated with golden apples in myth. Hera was said to own the Garden of the Hesperides which housed the orchard in which the apples grew. Aphrodite is sometimes named the owner of this orchard as well, and She uses the apples to good effect in the myth of the marriage of Atlanta. In addition to this, cases can be made for both Aphrodite and Hera as the "fairest" of Goddesses. Aphrodite's beauty is legendary, and Hera is praised as the cow-eyed and white-armed perfect bride.

So why did Athena, who has no prior mythological associations with golden apples and who is praised for Her wisdom, skill, and cunning over Her fairness of countenance insist on claiming the KALLISTI apple?

In my experiences with Athena She has presented Herself as a maintainer of peace. Her associations with war come from a place of skill, strategy, and a love for heroic deeds. She seems to abhor strife. She is noted as the greatest weaver, and serves in this role like a latter day Fate. When contrasted with Ares, Athena becomes a preserver Deity, whereas Ares serves as a destroyer.

But surely a Goddess as wise and thoughtful as Athena would have known that the KALLISTI apple would cause nothing but strife?

Athena has a special role on Olympus. She is the wearer of the aegis, which She shares with Zeus, and is the only God that Zeus trusts to wield his lightning bolts. Athena is the keeper of powerful relics. In the folds of the aegis are the head of the gorgon Medusa and the kista of the Arrephoria, both of which no mortal can look upon. One turns men to stone, the other drives them mad.

When the KALLISTI apple rolled into the wedding feast of Peleus and Thetis I propose that Athena knew fully well how powerful it was. She saw that it was an instrument of strife and would bring a terrible fate to all who looked upon it. Her wisdom said to claim the apple as Her own, to keep it safe in Her aegis with the other weapons of Olympus.

It was not vanity that brought Athena to the Judgment of Paris, but Her deep wisdom.

Athena's Illiad - Part 2

Introduction

Part 1 is here. I'm considering scrapping this version of Part 2 entirely and jumping directly into the Illiad material instead. I may keep the first paragraph and save the rest of this version for the end of the story. I'm concerned that the reference to Keats is a bit forced.

Athena's Illiad - Part 2

On Olympus debate was stirring about exactly what Aphrodite meant by offering Paris the most beautiful woman in all of the world. We Gods knew that there was a mortal living who was more lovely than any woman in all of time had ever been. Her name was Helen and she was the wife of Menelaus, King of Sparta. The Kings of Greece had nearly gone to war with each other over her hand in marriage. To preserve the peace of Greece all of the Kings had pledged that Helen's chosen husband would be defended against all invaders and usurpers who might lay claim to fair Helen. A number of the Gods seemed convinced that Aphrodite was offering Paris the love of Helen. I was dumbfounded by this talk. Certainly Aphrodite would not risk the peace of Greece for her prize. Paris, well aware of the fabled beauty of Helen among mortals, plied his father Priam into a peacekeeping summit with Menelaus across the Aegean in Sparta. I tried to find fair Aphrodite, to dissuade her from this madness of offering Helen as a prize, but she was gone. Gone to Sparta to appear before Helen, offering forth the use of her magical zone – a golden girdle which made its wearer irresistible – and promising the love of a young and handsome prince en route to Sparta's shores.

Helen and Paris were awakened to love at first sight. Aphrodite's son Eros shot his arrows straight to their hearts, and truly, never had a mortal looked more lovely than did Helen bearing the zone of Aphrodite. Paris knew that the promise of Aphrodite had been fulfilled as Helen confessed her passionate love for him by the light of a sputtering oil lamp. Paris smuggled her away to Ilium that night, taking leave under cover of darkness like a petty thief. Ares, lord of war, rejoiced. He and his mother Hera would have their war. Zeus ignored the whole debacle. “What business have I with the love affairs of mortals?” he claimed, absolving himself of the coming bloodbath. “If you have a care about it, speak with Aphrodite,” he advised me. But Aphrodite had taken her leave of Olympus. She dwelt now in the violet mist around the mast of Paris's ship as it sailed swiftly through the Aegean Sea. She lent her starry crown to guide them back to the great city of Ilium. She took up residence within the hulking walls of Troy.

After the war, when Aphrodite and I were speaking to each other again, I asked her why she had done it. Why, out of all of the women in the world, did she have to offer forth Helen as Paris's prize? Helen, who had been promised to be defended by the myriad kings of Greece. Helen, whose beauty was trumped up by Aphrodite's art. Helen, who she knew would start a war to rage across the sea. Aphrodite drew forth the golden apple from the folds of her peplos. I had not seen it for many a long age, and was surprised at its luster. She regarded its inscription KALLISTI – for the fairest. Her answer was measured, spoken in the most dulcet tones. “This apple was meant for the fairest of Gods. Although it would have been wise for it to go to you, it would not have been truthful. I offered Paris the most beautiful of lovers. I could have given him someone less beautiful than Helen, but I would have been breaking my word.” She turned the apple in her hand, catching the light. “Truth is the mark of beauty. I promised Paris his true love. How could I be false to him when I offer forth truth?” She spoke these words and they fell like a muse upon the ears of poets. One Keats, regarding a Grecian Urn depicting the Trojan War, added them to a verse, “Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”

This then is why, for all of my wisdom, I am not a champion of beauty. I seek skill. I do not rejoice in truth, but in craftiness. I am called a war Goddess, but in my heart I long for peace. The only joy I take in war is the nurturing of heroes, true champions of skill. Through war I have gained and lost the best of heroes. Hector was supposed to be my champion, but he was taken from me by the cruel division of conflict. From the battlefield I found another – a warrior who fought with his mind as much as his hands. My Odysseus. But his is another story for another time.

Arrephoria Hymn

Night comes all-bedewing
As I set my mewling son
Into the kista-basket

They said I was one of only three
Immune to your own son's arrows
Yet you have conquered me at last

I cover the kista and send for the maidens
Knowing that I must tell you alone the secret
That we now share a husband

I admonish the maidens not to look in the basket
Knowing that they will regardless
I crafted their grandmother Pandora, after all

They dutifully journey down my sacred hill
Two fall prey to womanly curiosity
Madness and death are their husbands now

The third completes her delivery
Into your grotto and into your hands
She gushes of your legendary beauty

The maid bears the kista back to me
Inside is my serpentine son sleeping soundly
And a bridal gift from you, my secret sister-wife

Athena's Illiad - Part 1

Introduction

I've been working on a short story piece for a few months now. It is a retelling of the Judgment of Paris and the Illiad from the perspective of Athena. I'll be posting sections of it here for feedback and criticism. Oh, and yes, I did make the golden apple graphic to the right. Feel free to snag it and do whatever you like with it. I'm sure Eris would want it that way.

Athena's Illiad - Part 1

When mortals read the words of the poet Homer they hear one side of a very complicated tale. It is my opinion that all of the Gods were judged harshly by his laureled pen. As for myself you may be surprised to discover that I loved the city of Troy. Not as I loved my dear Greece, of course, but I never sought the destruction of Ilium. At least, not in the beginning. Troy was ruled by a dynasty descended from my beloved son Ericthonius. From this line I strived for generations to produce a hero that would be unmatched in skill and wisdom. A hero that would fight with heart and mind as much as hands and grit. Troy was also the home of my Palladium, a relic which reminded me of my first and best love, Pallas. I collected relics. In my goat skin bag were the Kista of Athens, Zeus's lightning bolts, and the head of the gorgon Medusa. I was the only God of clear enough mind to bear these tools of destruction. Had I only been given that most destructive of relics to begin with the war with Troy would never have happened.

When Priam's first son was born I knew that the seeds of heroism I had planted in the walls of Ilium had finally born rich fruit. Hector would grow to be a man of wondrous renown, not only for his heroic deeds but also for his quick and agile mind. I invested my time in insuring him a future of glory. If I had the wisdom so many praise me with I would have been less involved with the elder son of Priam and more interested in the growth of his younger son Paris. Paris was a vain and lazy youth with a slow mind prone to outside influence. If only I had seen! It was only ever my intention to preserve the peace of Greece. Alas, I could not see that far.

Not much is missed by the sharpness of my silvery owl eyes. At the wedding of Thetis to the moral Peleus I saw Eris slip in from the sidelines. I watched as she rolled that golden ball of chaos into the wedding feast. I knew instantly that it was a tool of death and destruction. It would only be safe hidden safely within the folds of my goat-skin aegis. I darted across the hall, swift as any bird of prey, and clutched at the golden apple. It had fallen at the feet of that dove, that violet crowned Goddess of Love, Aphrodite. I can see now that I was fortune's fool. Had I not been so eager to prevent chaos I would never had been its instrument. As it was, I snatched the apple from Aphrodite's silken hand just as she read its inscription: KALLISTI, for the fairest. Fast enough to make my head spin deceitful Hera was at our side, demanding the apple for herself, as was befitting the Queen of the Gods. Aphrodite insisted that the prize, having fallen at her lovely feet, was rightly hers. And I, overcome with terror at the chaos thrumming forth from the little golden ball in my hand, could only shake my head in disagreement with them.

If my father read the horror on my face, or could simply sense the overwhelming menace that the apple radiated I do not know. I only know that as swiftly as lightning he took the apple from my grasp. Would that he had kept it! Like a wryneck Hera slithered up to her husband. Did she not deserve the apple? Had it not come from her evening orchard? She flashed him her fox smile and petted his arms, cooing like a cuckoo that the apple should be hers. Aphrodite gasped. "The apple came to me," she pleaded. "Am I not the fairest of the Gods?" Zeus looked to me for guidance. "Give me the apple," I assured him, "and I will protect us from the dark fate that it promises." Mighty Zeus furrowed his brow. "I will not choose among you." He proclaimed. "But on the slopes outside of Troy is a shepherd named Paris who has proven himself to be a fair and worthy judge. Let him choose who shall claim the golden apple."

We all knew of this Paris. He was Priam's younger son and had recently judged Ares's bulls as finer than his own. Zeus seemed to think that this made Paris a fair judge. Aphrodite, Hera, and I knew better. In preparation to meet Paris Aphrodite shed her already sheer peplos and donned her golden girdle. Hera also freed herself of her purple vestments and elaborately braided her coppery hair around her golden crown. She readied a cask of gold and jewels to take to Paris. I understood then that to win possession of the apple, to save the fate of Gods and men, I would need to lower myself before Priam's son. I slid off my beautifully woven peplos and adjusted the aegis around myself for the sake of modesty. Hera laughed scornfully at my actions. Aphrodite rubbed love philters into her skin. What was she planning? And what could I offer Paris that would make him come to my side?

We found Paris resting beneath a cypress tree near his grazing flocks. Hermes handed him the apple and laid the task before him, eyes twinkling. Hermes seemed unduly amused by the entire embarrassing situation. But how could I expect him to understand the importance of that little golden apple? How could any of us have known just how terrible Paris's judgment would be?

Hera made her case first. She strutted about, every bit the peacock that she so admired. Was she not the fairest of Goddesses? And what gifts she offered Paris! The cask of gold and jewels would make him richer than all the kings of Greece, and I heard her promise him still greater power and wealth. Such was the domain of Hera. She promised war that would expand the power of Troy throughout Greece and eastward to Phrygia. I could not let her succeed. She would undo the peace of Greece and all that I had worked for. I strode forth, eager to make my own case. "Paris," I commanded, fixing him with my quicksilver eyes, "power lasts only a little while. I can give you fame that will last forever. Only I can make you a hero the likes of which men will sing of long after your temples are rubble and your body is dust. Only I can offer you immortality, dear Paris." Paris considered this, and I could see that I had won him from the claws of Hera. "But now I must hear from Aphrodite," said the youth. I swallowed hard, wondering what the golden Goddess of Love would offer forth. "Beloved Paris," breathed forth her honeyed voice, "Power is fleeting, and glory is cold. I offer you great love, my Paris. Love the likes of which the world has never seen. Love that will be sung of for as long as any hero tale could ever be, and love that is glorious while it lives. I offer you the love of the most beautiful woman in all of the world, Paris. She will love you fully, all of the days of your life." I knew that I was beaten. Paris was utterly transfixed by Aphrodite's promises. Paris proclaimed, "Power is the providence of my father King Priam. Glory is the hallmark of my brother Prince Hector. These are not of me. I pledge my troth with Aphrodite and declare myself a servant of Love!" Hera fumed, eager to leave. As Paris placed the apple into Aphrodite's hand I was filled with hope that the apple's chaos had been averted. Hera would not have her war, and what harm could come from the innocence of true love? What harm indeed.

Ten

Laurelei's daughter just celebrated her tenth birthday. Milestones like that are cause for reflection in everyone's lives, and it made me think about when I was ten years old. Specifically, it called to mind my first ever forays into Paganism.

When I was in fourth grade I was crazy about mythology. The library at school had gorgeous hardback copies of D'Aulaires' Book of Greek Myths and D'Aulaires' Book of Norse Myths. I checked them out in rotation each week. I attempted to memorize every page. Every story, every illustration, every family tree. My first thoughts on comparative religion came from wondering why the punishments of Prometheus and Loki seemed so similar.

I was dazzled by the remarkable illustrations. There was Echindna nursing the young monsters of Greek mythology, Loki transforming into countless animals, Aphrodite rising radiant from the sea. Slepnirr galloping eight-legged across the sky. Sif's golden hair, and Gaia smiling up at Uranos. I recall that I was especially fond of Hermes, that youthful God of cleverness.

I wanted desperately to be favored by the Gods as were heroines like Medea, or Ariadne. I was enamored with the Pythia of Delphi, sitting on her tripod and murmuring the future. She was Apollo's chosen voice on earth! My very first prayer, sincere in a way that only a ten-year-old girl's can be, was to Apollo. I was on the bus going to school and was watching the sun rise. I knew that I wasn't supposed to look at the sun, that I would go blind. So I prayed to the Lord of Light to take my sight and give me second sight. At ten years old I prayed to become an oracle of Apollo.

Did the prayer work? Well, I did end up needing glasses, which, combined with my odd bookish nature, made Junior High a singularly awful experience. When I was sixteen I was gifted with my first set of Tarot cards, and over the years I've become surprisingly proficient with them. Does this make me an oracle? Hardly!

So did the God hear my prayers? I am certain of it. Inspired by Medea, and a series of events that I will relate at another time, I became a Witch. Honest to goodness. I have papers of pedigree and everything. And then, only last year, the most remarkable thing happened. The Greek Gods came back into my life. In my life as a Pagan up until that point I had been neglecting them. I thought them to pedestrian for my notice. They were the Gods of my childhood, Gods that people learned about in school. I wanted exotic Deities whose names resonated with darkness, night, and deep magic.

And then Athena showed up. I was immersed in totemic owl work, and serpentine magics, and Goddess spirituality. And there she was, owl-eyed and Amazonian, and gorgon-bearing, and glorious. With her came the others. Dionysus, compelling me to run wild through the forest, wine-soaked and half-mad at festival. Hera, demanding a Goddess retreat in her name. Aphrodite, spinning my love life into new unexplored dimensions. Demeter, teaching me how to be a mother, when I had expressly denied such a place in myself existed. Soon I couldn't deny it, I had become a Hellenic Polytheist.

I purchased a copy of D'Aulaires' Book of Greek Myths at the used bookstore that seemed to have been waiting for me. I share it with Laurelei's children, the oldest of which just turned ten. I marvel at the circle.

Respecting all of the Olympians

Over at the Hellenismos.us, forum where I post actively (Yes, yes, I know. But it really is a thoughtful, dedicated, and well-meaning group of folks), a teenage girl was venting her frustration about having a poor opinion of Aphrodite and Zeus. Because of this, she is struggling with honoring the entire Dodecatheon. I answered her struggle as follows.

I've had this problem also with Poseidon and Ares. I solved it by making a special effort to learn as much as I could about each of them and by honoring them for a month each as if they were my "favorites". This meant really looking at their myths, their epitaphs, and their spheres of influence, and making daily offerings to them.

Eventually I found things about them both that I respected and eventually even loved. For example, Poseidon is the Lord of the Sea and I visit St. Augustine, FL every year -- I love it there and plan to live there someday -- to enjoy the ocean. Now when I think of Poseidon I think of how much joy I get from watching the waves break along the coast.

In cases like Aphrodite and Zeus you are dealing with two entities that each have A LOT of things attributed to them beyond just the immediate interpretation that you'd get from most myths. To quote Laurelei, Aphrodite is not a "bimbo". In addition to being the personification of love, beauty, grace, and sensuality she was also a war goddess, (Aphrodite Area) the Lady of the tombs (Aphrodite Epitymbria), the star Goddess (Aphrodite Asteria), the dove of peace (Aphrodite Eirene), the dark Goddess (Aphrodite Melaina/Skotia), the averter of unlawful desires (Aphrodite Apostrophia), and the lover of laughter (Aphrodite Philomedes). She is thought to be an imported variant of the mighty Sumerian queen of heaven, Inanna. Those who reduce her to a simpering maid with no head for battle *cough* Homer *cough* do her a great disservice.

I'm waxing rather long on Aphrodite. I'll admit that I'm partial to her. My lovely Laurelei literally wrote the book on the revival of her worship: http://www.asteriabooks.com/catalog/aphrodites-priestess.html

I know that Zeus is painted in the myths as a philander at best and a rapist at worst. To those raised in an Abrahamic faith he can seem like little more than a judgmental sky-father. But he is more, also. He is the God of freedom (Zeus Elutherios) the great councilor (Zeus Euboulos), the divine child (Zeus Hersos) who saved his siblings and fathered the Gods you hold most dear, the God of rejoicing (Zeus Kharmon), the God of the people (Zeus Laoites), the God who was fufilled (Teleios) by his marriage to Hera (Zeus Heraios). Rather than solely the distant airy Lord of storms, He was an earthly God (Zeus Khthonios) who roamed groves of white poplar (Zeus Leucaeus) and forests of dark oak (Zeus Scotitas). He could be raging (Zeus Labrandeus) and wolfish (Zeus Lykaios) or gentle (Zeus Meilichios) and friendly (Zeus Philios). Zeus is the Theos Agathus, literally the Good God.

My advice to you is to learn all that you can of these Gods and then, with a humble heart and an open mind, ask them how they can best fit into your life. You are not courting them to gain the acceptance of the "in crowd". You are asking them to share their many blessings with you in your life. These blessings extend far beyond simply "love" from Aphrodite or "rulership" from Zeus. Open your mind and heart to the Olympians and they will receive you gladly.

Mind you, this is still an ongoing process, learning about the Gods, honoring them, and developing good relationships with each of them. I still struggle with Ares from time to time. I am a non-confrontational creature by nature. I see little good in war or conflict. It is hard for me to honor the "Destroyer of Men", the "Bloody", "Violent", "Terrible" "Skin-piercing" "Murderer". So, my personal understanding of Ares has come through other means. He is called "the one who the women feast", "the bountiful" and "the one who rallies". Ares (his name is literally war) can never be completely separated from the concept of battle, but I have come to accept that the conflict he brings is useful. I see him as a Kali sort of figure, one who destroys that creation may happen. He is also someone who it is useful to have on my side, as I am no warrior.

Also remember, it is not important to have excellent relationships with all of the Gods. It is only necessary to not disrespect them or neglect honoring them.

I'm reposting this information here as, despite my rationalizations to the contrary, I'm still having personal internal conflict with Ares. There are many who would state that as long as I'm following proper piety and orthopraxy it doesn't matter if I dislike Ares. I myself rationalized that "it is not important to have excellent relationships with all of the Gods. It is only necessary to not disrespect them or neglect honoring them." But in truth I am too much of a mystic to really believe that. Personal relationships with the Gods is what brought me to Hellenismos in the first place. To have a lack of respect for one of the major Gods of the pantheon bothers me. I find myself even looking to Zeus's example for permission to dislike Ares so. Zeus himself claimed that he hated Ares.

'To me you are the most hateful of all the gods who hold Olympus. Forever quarreling is dear to your heart, wars and battles." - Homer, Iliad 5.699

I addition of murder, savagery, cowardice, war, strife, blood, and mutilation, Ares is also associated with human sacrifice. He is the rival of Hephaestus, who I hold very dear, and is openly despised by my dearest Athena. Were it not for Aphrodite's relationship with him I believe I would cut my losses and discount him altogether. Yet, she loves the war-hungry God for reasons I don't completely understand.

I would not speak ill of Ares, mind you. I have a grudging respect for him as a God, if nothing else, and I am not one to be impious. But he vexes me. How should I cultivate a relationship with a God who is so alien to my own spirit?