In the two weeks or so leading up to the Night of Hekate, on November 16th, I spent a great deal of time planning the rite. I identified the aspects of the goddess Hekate to which I feel the most connection, determined appropriate offerings of each, researched a few Greek ritual sacrifice practices (e.g., sponde and choe), and wrote the ritual itself. There was a point in the preparation where I was worried about all the wrong things. I found myself absorbed in the details of the event rather than in the deeper sacred connection to Hekate that would be reflected by and cultivated via the ceremony. The Sunday night before the Night of Hekate was to take place, I was particularly concerned with “the event” and making sure that everything went well. Before bed that night, I asked Hekate for guidance. As I settled into sleep, a dream took shape.
I was in a very large, candle-illuminated room with vaulted ceilings. In the front of the room was a row of gold thrones with lush red cushions. The central thrown was the biggest and most lavish. The remainder of the room was filled with people seated in cushy red chairs and clamoring with excitement because they were about to share company with some very important “people” (i.e. gods by my thinking within the dream). I was located behind the people near the double door, arched entrance at the center-back of the vast room. To my right, nestled in the corner was a spacious nook made of what looked to be rich oak that seemed to emerge from the meeting of the two walls. The oak-covered walls that cradled the nook were intricately carved with embellishments that stretched all the way to the ceiling. Inside the nook there was another throne and a lushly decorated table along one of the walls. The table had only a crown and a pitcher of water on it. I walked into the nook, knowing that it was specifically my work to attend the “person” who would take that throne.
Shortly after I stepped into the nook, She arrived. I knew it was Hekate because she descended from the ceiling and settled into her throne, coalescing like a mist or fog. She took human form, wearing a beautiful gown of black and gold. I cannot remember what it looked like in any detail, only that it was gorgeous and fitting for a being of her greatness. I recall her gaze being sharp and full of intent. She waved me over and I gave her the crown that was laid out for her. Then I circled around to get the pitcher of water. After I gave her a drink, she smiled and nodded to acknowledge that she was satiated, and pleased by my service. Hekate spoke then for the first time in the dream and said something to the effect of we work well together and that she had a place for me. I was ready to start then and there but she instead sent me to my seat. On my way out of the nook, she said that I should contact her to follow up and then she turned her attention to the front of the room.
A few meaningful tidbits emerged for me. 1) I was trying too hard for the Night of Hekate. Her needs are simple. Whatever I offered beyond the simple necessities would be for my own pleasure, not necessarily hers. 2) Whatever the celebration was, whoever was set to be honored that night, they could not get theirs until she arrived. It was not until Hekate arrived, was satisfied, and turned her attention to the front that things seemed like they were going to start moving along. 3) She wanted me to spend less time (but not necessarily no time) obsessing over her and more time engaging with whatever the event was that was about to take place. Hence her waving me on to my seat. I got the definite sense that there was a time and a place to honor her in my life and that I should not become overly consumed with ceremony. Our interpersonal connection, our relationship matters more and is not so “high maintenance” as to demand frequent heavy and costly rituals to keep up.
When I woke up, I thanked her profusely for the insights she brought!