O Dionysos Meilichios,
Gentle Presence who is there
for us in times of peace and of
greatest stress, I call upon you,
fig-sweet Lord, for I am pulled
in too many directions,
like branches in a restless wind.
My mind will not rest,
my body will not settle,
my spirit forgets its own pace.
and though it shames me to confess it,
I am even distracted when I try
to perform the household rites.
Gather what is scattered in me,
and with your power of renewal
restore me to wholeness.
And in the stillness that follows,
may I rediscover myself,
without the glow of a screen
reflected in my eye; without
a barrage of distractions,
most of which I can’t do
anything about anyway.
And so I breathe, and I breathe,
and I breathe—
and in the moments between breaths
you, my God, Dionysos Melamphaēs,
work a miraculous healing.
Like water finding its level,
like night arriving without haste,
like breath returning after running—
you bring me back to myself.
And remind me that I do not have to
be everywhere at once, that I am not
responsible for every little thing
that does not go according to plan,
that my portion is mine to tend,
and everything else is someone else’s.
Respecting that boundary clears up
space in my head, and in my life,
to focus on the Gods and sacred things,
which brings me abiding joy and peace,
and a sense of purpose unmatched
by anything in this modern, secular world.
Let me lose myself in service to the holy,
let every action and every thought rest
upon my Gods and spirits as I straighten up shrines,
light candles and incense, recite the prayers, and pause
to reflect on them, sinking into their presence until it is
time to move onto the next shrine, and the next after that.
I thank you, Dionysos Meliouchos, that I am a polytheist
and have so many wonderful Gods, and spirits, and dead
woven into my life. I feel the last of the stress depart,
melting like wax, rising like a fragrant cloud, spilling out
like the rich, dark wine poured in libation. With all that
stress gone, I’m free to stand before you, beloved Dionysos
Mystophylax, pure and yearning to connect with you. Io! Io!
Io euoi! Io io Dionysos! May I prove worthy in your eyes.