I said, I think, in an earlier post this wasn’t true anymore, but with this (usually mild) benzodiazepine withdrawal syndrome I’m going through I’m feeling it again. I just feel better when the Sun goes down. I’m often awake at sunrise, and when the Sun rises it feels like a burden. I just feel better at night, particularly after midnight.
I can remember feeling this way since I was a child. A thunderstorm would come and I’d go out and watch the rain, the clouds, the lightning, listen to the thunder, and feel a sense of awe. Then the clouds would thin, the temperature would warm, the humidity become oppressive, and then the Sun would come back out. Sometimes I would feel so low. And as a teen I got pretty good at amateur astronomy. I would get out my telescope and let it cool or warm to the ambient temperature at dusk. Dusk, from sundown till the stars had all come out, was my favorite time of day then. To this day I still go for walks mostly around dusk.
I worship and am very slowly becoming, I think, a mystic of a Goddess one of whose epithets — Νυκτιπόλος, Nytipolos — means Roaming by night. Hekate is both a chthonic and a uranic (heavenly) Goddess, but it is Her chthonic qualities I first fell in love with. I make most of my offerings to Her at night, as one does for a chthonic Deity in the Hellenic tradition, though I pray to Her whether it’s night or day. And of course Her deipnon, Hekate’s Supper, is always offered late on the night of the New Moon.
And I wonder why this is true about me. Something, unseen, unheard, only felt, happens at sundown. It’s similar to the cessation of the “psychic whine” of collective humanity during the wee hours when most people anywhere near you are asleep, but it’s not that because people don’t go to sleep then. I do not know what this something is. And I don’t know why it’s again bringing me such relief.
Just to be perfectly clear, I’m not here insinuating I’m a vampire, psychic or otherwise. I know how, theoretically, to practice psychic vampirism, and I’ve even done it on occasion, but it’s just to see if I can, or still can. I’m not a natural psychic vampire so I couldn’t take enough energy for anyone ever to notice no matter how hard I tried. It’s just a sort of naughty lark when I do it, maybe a couple of times a year. I do it when I’m feeling particularly antinomian. That doesn’t happen often these days. [EDIT: see comments, I’ve learned a lot about myself since reading this.]
Of the archangels I’ve summoned in order to receive preliminary initiations into their respective planetary spheres — I’m not ready they say for complete initiation — Michael’s initiation, Michael the archangel of the Sun, was by far the most painful. I could tell you what it was like in detail but that would involve delving into my psyche deeper than I’m comfortable doing here. It was beautiful, I will say. It was like what people tell their children dying and going to Heaven is like, in a small way. And it hurt like Hell. It hurt so bad — the sheer beauty of it — that I’ve still not performed the next rite of angelic-planetary initiation, and Michael was maybe a year and a half ago.
I do not understand these things, can’t explain them. They’re just true. I thought they weren’t true for a long while but now I know again they are.
Somehow I’m alien to the Sun, and the Sun alien to me.