Several years ago, during the course of what I typically refer to as my spiritual depression, my connection to Anubis was numbed for some time. During that period, I was having sensory overlays and “falling” periods where I would find myself in a forest of some kind. It has many names that I have referred to it as, but usually it is the Forest of Faith. While there, I spent much of my time carving my way through thick bramble and harsh undergrowth. Eventually, I fell to my knees and could not bring myself to move forward.
It was at this point that I first found The Morrigan. Or, rather, she found me.
She dragged me to my feet, in a sense, and gave me the kick in the ass that I needed to get forward and move on. Crows began to show up everywhere, atypical of the location that I lived in at the time. They would often land across the small parking lot in the Dead Tree, a long-deceased tree that I sometimes smuggled offerings out to for its spirit and those that lived around the land my building was on.
I was tentative, as I usually am with a new deity, but she was persistent. With Anubis gone, I knew I had little reason to deny her and so we began a cautious dance with one another, her leading and I following.
The Morrigan is not a consistent presence in my life. She crops up time to time when my self-sovereignty needs a kick, but her role has been almost completely subsumed by Persephone. That is not to say I no longer work with nor worship her; I owe her much more than a simple goodbye. Her work with me during that time when I was all but lost is something I cannot repay and something that I will be forever indebted to her. She kept me looking for my path when I was lost in darkness.