The Singer-in-Silence
Years ago, one of my first posts here was about the Dancer, the Wanderer who really introduced me to that whole pantheon, who’s still very important to me in drawing me deeper. But it struck me recently that I haven’t actually talked in-depth about any of them here. I think it’s far past time now, for a few reasons. One is that we just completed a cycle of focussing on one Wanderer each ritual, for the past year… And another reason is that another Wanderers just very clearly nudged me to talk more about them.
The Singer-in-Silence, not surprising from their name, can sometimes be pretty loud. They are also one of the Wanderers that I work most closely with these days, in my roles as someone who shares words, and seeks mysteries.
The Singer is closely related to the Dancer. Together, I’ve come to call them the Crowned Siblings, and it’s my understanding that they wandered together, off from wherever they came until they gathered with the others. The Singer is the younger sibling, and in that first time, they were a bit unformed, as kids sometimes are. Still finding their place.
In the myths, that place-finding happened during the first Glowtide, the first time they called the Sun back from the brink of winter. That story deserves to be told here as well, but it’s a bit past time for it now, and I’m feeling pulled now to talk more about just what the Singer means to me.
The Singer is young, the Singer is neurodiverse, the Singer doesn’t always get things right. That’s true of all the Wanderers, and of many other gods too. Our gods in polytheism aren’t perfect, and we sometimes learn with them. What I learn from (and with) the Singer is endurance, and courage. The Singer sees things others don’t, sees in ways they don’t, and sometimes can’t help but share what they see, even if it might cause a problem. The Singer seeks and strives through the unknown because something seems right to them that might be missed by others.
The Singer is liminal in a whole different way than the Dancer is. They seek out the boundaries, the edge-cases, to understand them on their own merits, and to bring back experiences of them to others. They complement the Dancer’s wordless gnosis by being so full of words that we never lack for things to talk about and listen to.
The Singer is compassionate and pushy in turns. They know the hardships of being an odd fit, even among folks who came together because they were all an odd fit elsewhere. They also know that that’s no reason to stop being yourself, to stop figuring things out.
My relationship with the Singer is the most personal I’ve had with any god. We chat, we play, we run, we call each other out. So it’s a bit of a surprise that I haven’t talked about them much here so far… and it’s no surprise at all that they said “Hey, no, sit down now and write something about me.”
Singer-in-Silence, you lead the way through uncertainty, and you show me what is worth my attention. May our bonds reach strong from Antlers to Roots, here and onward.