Who is Bast?

Her history has been turned over many times, even evolving from being represented as a lioness to a domesticated cat. Her attributes were once similar to Sekhmet and at one point they were the same Goddess. Now, they are more like two sides of the same coin. I have found through studying, that the Egyptian Pantheon has many Gods that represent dual natures. There is a balance between their aspects, never too much of one specific thing and Bast is no different.

What are her Aspects?

She has been called “The Devouring One”. Bast’s first attribute was that of a warrior the protector of lower Egypt. Later her story became that at night, she turned into a domestic cat. Hiding in the dark, protecting her father Ra, from the God Apep. Her eyes were gifted with sight to see in the dark, and for this reason, some say the Eye of Ra is her symbol.  She is known as the “Lady of the East, and the Utchat ( the all seeing eye) .” Her connection with Ra as her father, put her in the category of Sun deities.

She is also the Lady of the (ointment) Jar. Her hieroglyph is that of the Bas-Jar, with the addition of the T (“T” at the end of a name, made it feminine). She is the keeper of perfumes, creams and ointments, not only associated with beauty but also medicine, Bast is a Goddess of healing.

I have found that she is currently more associated with her Lunar aspects ( she was syncretised with Artemis when the Greeks invaded Egypt during the Ptolemaic reign ) which evolved from her protector role into a Goddess of fertility. As a protector of mothers and children she was often depicted with a litter of kittens at her feet but sex and moreover, sensuality is at the root of this.

So… Bast is a Goddess of Sex and Sensuality?

RING A DING DING! How do we know this? There is SO MUCH historical evidence to support this and several accounts about her festivals so I’m going to NOT nerd out here ( cause I can really get going!) and cover the basics!

The Bubastis, an ancient city in lower Egypt was the site of her greatest temple. There were HUGE feasts, I mean epic scale events that took place to honor Bast. People would arrive from all over to pay homage to the Goddess. Barges would line the river banks floating towards the city and guess what? They were greeted by the townsfolk, singing, dancing and ladies, casually lifting their skirts showing off their genitals… who knew this was a thing? They also drank heavily during these major events, particularly beer and wine.

In all seriousness though, she represents ecstatic energy. The freedom to just be one with everything. The drinking was definitely a way to let inhibitions go, very similar to the Maenads or Bacchantes. The freedom to let go- to drink till you were vibrating on a different wavelength, where divinity could get close to anyone who was receptive, letting her in, so to speak.

She is the representation of sexual freedom, with no shame and no fear, noted by the antics on the river banks. Sex and things of a sexual nature only became taboo or shamed later on, these folks did not see things the way they are now. A prime example was one of the simplest forms of veneration, known as  the morning ritual .

The Morning Ritual? ( This is about to get really sexual rn)

The sun, which for the Egyptians played a major role in their religious practice, so naturally, they honored its rising and performed rituals in the morning, to do so!  

Before the sunrise, Worshippers of Bast (folks at home) and the temple  priestesses would light incense ( cannabis was a major component, more on that later!) there would be singing, chanting, the rattling of sistrums and cunnilingus.

Wait… What?!

Yup. Vaginal fluid was considered “The Nectar of the Goddess”, having all sorts of magical powers! It was the source of immortality for the Gods (all of them). It was believed that humans who consumed this Goddess Nectar, daily, at sunrise, would also achieve immortality. If nothing else, they believed that this nectar contributed to general health and wellness. So it was fitting to be part of the rites of Bast. (I have read several texts about this but I cant find a definitive source yet, but Im looking! In the meantime, this totally makes sense or would make a perfect offering bc orgasms are a total religious experience!)

So why did I choose Bast for this ritual?

As a kid I worked with the Egyptian pantheon exclusively, I was obsessed with their stories, their culture, how they  viewed life, the hereafter and the advancements for humanity that they achieved. I’ve moved on to work with others now but they have always had a place in my heart.

One day a few years back, one of the Priestesses of our coven wanted to do a ritual for Bast and asked me to invoke her. I obliged and was immediately immersed in that energy and back to feeling 13 again. She and I had a connection and it was just rekindled. I learned a lot more about her over the years and she remains a staple in my spirituality. She brings out the joy in me. Shows me how to just BE. Bast is like the person who walks into a lame party and gets everyone up on their feet, dancing and having a good time. Personable, happy, sexy and gives off that “I just want to get to know you” vibe.

How did it all come together?

I sat with this desire for a while. The need to bring this type of event to life, for others outside of our coven because I wanted to share these experiences. I wanted to share with others what inspires me and how I learned to make magic through food.

As a devotee of Freyja, you would think she would be the first choice as the Host Deity. I meditated on this for a while and her response was a little more than a shrug. The search was on as I dug within. Asking and receiving responses of yes, but not right now. I thought, maybe they dont want this? Maybe I’m asking for too much?

I hit pause on the asking part and starting working on a menu. I threw a lot of ideas together and sat with them, feeling the energy I was getting off of the pages and in one of those instances, my daughter walks over and puts her hand on my shoulder. She says “Mom, I’m really proud of you, and you’re going to figure it all out.” I gave her a quick squeeze and a kiss “Thanks Isis, I’m trying.”  

Saying her name out loud, things just clicked in my brain. I had to go home. In that realization Bast came through as clear as a bell “How about we do this together?” I immediately felt heard, I was seen . Filled with happiness I began scratching at the menu pages and came up with something totally different than my original plan and it just fit. My witchy chef heart is floating on one of those barges on the way to Bubastis… join me on this trip somewhere else in time. Tickets available under the Events Tab.

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While the winter is starting to rage on the north east of the United States, deep below the earth, life begins anew as it promises to. January is usually the month where we recuperate from all of the festivities and take a moment to regroup and get our priorities in order.  For some, this comes in the form of a resolution. Eat better, spend less, stop smoking, get organized, try new things, run a marathon etc. For me, I am focusing on some long term goals, particularly my health, my writing and my future cookbook.

As a person that lives with PCOS times can get frustrating as menial tasks seem herculean. Your brain becomes an adversary and you turn inwards to your heart. listening to its steady beating, reminds you that one step at a time is how you must always proceed. It reminds you to slow down and be patient. It reminds you that as long as it keeps going, so can you! I am taking my time and seriously practicing patience while I try to rewire my entire body.

This is a time consuming effort that now must take precedence in my life, before all of the other things that I would rather be doing. I am at odds with that idea but am accepting that this too will be something that becomes second nature, like learning a new skill. Meal plans and prep will integrate itself into daily life and I will be able to pick up where I left off.

Writing has come back into my life in the form of prompts and  revisiting finished and unfinished works. Transferring them over from paper to my drive has been cathartic, as I read about the things I had experienced and how much I have evolved since then. Looking forward to more prompts and random ideas that pop into my head which I will gladly share!

The cookbook, well, that is underway with lots of testing and revamping so stay tuned for more news on that front! I’m excited about the journey it is taking me on and look forward to sharing it with everyone.Instagram will continue to be where I showcase recipe ideas and lots of food magic so if you’re not following @gourmetwitch, head on over! Working on some fun spring ideas!

This winter has me feeling like a seed . They appear small and fragile but what lies within is the strength of a lion. A seed has to have courage to burst through its safe enclosure. It will venture through the darkness and trudge through the heavy earth, weighing down on it. The seedling must strive and push to breach the surface and feel the sun on its tiny leaves and that ordeal is only the beginning but breaking out is the hardest part. I am fortunate to have an incredible support system that is with me every step of the way while I hibernate and nourish myself, my brain is actively working on new material and fun stuff for the coming months. If you find yourself a seed, weigh down by the earth or afraid of the darkness, just know that the sun is waiting to greet you!

I wasn’t ready. No where near un-boxing the trauma and the hurt I had been experiencing. I was hardly afloat but I had a toddler to take care of so I persisted. The dreams I had, the future I built in my mind, shattered like a broken glass. I was young, hardly an adult but my mind was made up. I was not ready to love again, and maybe, I never would because that’s safer. When I met my husband, I was broken, a bird without feathers.

My favorite thing about him , is his willingness to show up. When we met, he literally just showed up! I was committed to hating men and I was mean. I would walk away from conversations, ignore him as I worked but he showed up with supplies I would need, so that I didn’t have to climb the shelves. He restocked my refrigerator to the exact OCD specifications I had. Labels all turned out, 2 rows of each beverage with the diet alternative to the left of the product. He did this without me asking. He observed me and took a minute to learn about the things that make me tick. (now, no one can keep an organized kitchen cabinet but whatever lol)

I didn’t want him, told him so to his face, several times and he always answered with, “I just want to get to know you, that’s it.” I didn’t have time for that either. I wasn’t in the market for new friends, all I wanted was to go back in time and fix my damage, alone.

I had moved back to my mother’s house after my seperation, divorce was my future at 23 years old. The only real outlet I had was my spirituality. It has helped me survive, and it was continuing to be a support in my current situation so I allowed myself to lean on it for strength. Traveling to the temple from queens was 2 hour journey, one I committed to all the time, the train was my friend.

I had to work one weekend, and it so happened that I was also participating in a ceremony so I had to bring several bags with me, no biggie right? I also had a huge list of things I needed to get, and of course, life got in the way and my shopping would have to be done after work. Did I mention I forgot some things I needed at home and would have to go back to queens first? Yup!  I was tired after my shift, but I was a workhorse then, so I slung my bags over my back and headed towards the door. “Let me give you a ride.” I heard him say.

“No thanks!” I said, through thin lips and a wave. “Let me help you…” he said again. “I’m good, I don’t need help!” I said back, as the bags weighed me down. “It’s really no trouble” he reminded me. “Yea, I get it but I’m good!” I said once again. I wasn’t used to having men offer help and not want something in return. Frankly I forgot what a favor or help from another person even was…. I shouldered all the burdens of my now broken marriage. I was raw, and still unwilling to let anyone show me kindness because nothing is free. “Why are you so stubborn?” he asked, slightly irked by my consistent refusals. I was shocked! I turned to him, brows scrunched and teeth showing, I was ready to attack. “Um, you’re the one that doesn’t get the message here! I’m good, means, I’m good! What do you want from me?” I said in frustration, holding back tears.

He picked up my wavering resolve and spoke softly and reassuringly. “I don’t want anything from you, I want to help you.” “Well, I don’t need any help!” I interrupted. He squinted his eyes at me and reached for my bag strap that was falling off my shoulder “Yes, you do” he said, catching it. I sighed in defeat. I was tired of fighting, tired of the pain, tired of feeling tired. I needed help and I didn’t even know it but he did, so he showed up, and I let him drive me to queens. We talked about random things on the ride, and it was a relief to just sit back and relax. When we got to my mother’s I thanked him and gathered my bags. “I can wait and take you up to the bronx ya know.” he offered. I smiled, genuinely and said “ I really appreciated the ride, but I still have a lot to do and things to gather before I go up there. Thank you though.”

“I’ve stopped asking you out after you said no like a hundred times so you don’t have to worry about that, but I still want to get to know you, and I want to spend time with you. I am free for the rest of the day, I can take you anywhere.”

I felt that in my soul like a stone dropping into a still lake. He was offering me his time, the most precious thing we can give to a person. I started to refuse again, going down the list of things I needed to get and places I had to go to. “Jesus!” he exclaimed. Knowing I had scared him off, I again reached for my bag. “Wait! What are you doing?” he asked confused. “Did you not just Jesus me? I assumed that meant you were backing out” I laughed. “No! I was wondering how on earth you were going to do all that on foot!” he explained. Shrugging, I said “I have to, there is no other choice.”

He took me everywhere I needed to go. He carried my bags, told me funny stories and made me feel like I was the sun. I didn’t remember what it was like to be acknowledged, his kindness showed me that I deserved to be seen.

Our adventure came to a close when we arrived in the bronx. He helped me with my bags and got back into the car. “You know, I can come back later and bring you home” he smiled. I chuckled to myself because only I knew how late our temple gatherings were. Placing my hand on the lowered window I said “I can’t thank you enough. I appreciate your stubbornness and for not giving up because I really did need help. Our events run late and I won’t be bringing anything back so I’ll be ok.” I smiled and left. He had been the perfect gentleman.  He didn’t make a single advance that day, never brought it up, didn’t touch me at all and respected all of my boundaries because he knew what I really needed and showed up as a friend.

I thought about him that weekend quietly, secretly, and full of longing. I wasn’t ready for what I was feeling, I rejected those emotions but his act of kindness kept piercing the crevices of my stone wall and shone through the darkness in my heart, that light was his love and it radiated with such force that I had no choice but to also acknowledge it.

When I arrived at 6 am, the coffee filling the air while the clanging of pots made music as I floated in through the loading dock, high on spiritual vibes. I went to grab my usual cup and realized that every morning this coffee was here… ready… but who made it? I turned around cradling my cup and he was there, reading the DaVinci code. I was seeing him for the first time and I realized, he was my sun.

I walked over to him and lifted the book cover with my finger “Oh! You read?” I said. This was the first time I had ever greeted him in the morning, and I had worked there over a year and because I am awkward, I immediately opened with an insult. He raised his eyebrows at me and I laughed loudly and nervously. “That’s not what I meant!” waving my hands frantically. I didn’t know how to recover. “I’ve just never seen you reading a book before.” i said sheepishly. “You hardly knew I existed, or else you would have seen me with other books before.” he pointed out.

I wanted to die under a rock. He laughed it off and we chatted quickly and I was off to my station but not before he asked if I was ok and how things had turned out.

Later that day, after several random exchanges I realized that he was just like Wesley from the Princess Bride. He had been as you wishing me all this time and what I thought to be coworker camaraderie and required tasks – what he was really saying was I love you.

It took a while but that was the turning point in our relationship. He always showed up and still shows up. Last night, after work, after dinner, after some Christmas decorating I was still baking for a work event and my IG page. We needed to do a supermarket run and I don’t have my car anymore so of course, he drove. He bought my ingredients, carried my bags and offered me coffee.

When we got home, he showed up in the kitchen and although I was tired, frustrated and annoyed, snapping at him over my stupidness, he scooped, rolled and decorated cookies. He washed my pots as I worked and photographed then got yelled out for moving my strategically placed greenery for my pictures. He still showed up in the kitchen again, helping me with the last details and cleaning up. At one point after apologizing several times to him, I said “ I’m sorry babe, its after midnight and so late… I know you didn’t sign up for this..” he cut me off and said. “Yes I did. And I’m here for whatever else.”

We finished up and I stayed behind putting some things away and then I walk into my bedroom playing “It’s our anniversary” by Tony! Toni! Tone!. Today we celebrate, not our wedding anniversary but the first time we saw each other because I had been closed off to the world. We also celebrate the first time I tried to engage in a conversation with him and ended up insulting him!

I celebrate him today and his willingness to show up without a promise of a reward. I celebrate his willingness to look at a broken person and see the potential in them. I celebrate his ability to love me unconditionally, through my trauma, my rage, my sharp tongue and my meltdowns. I celebrate him showing up as a father to a toddler, for proving time and again that he was there for her and his continued support through her teenage shenanigans, pms mood swings and the attitude passed down from her mother! I celebrate his cheerleader spirit and the moments when he channels his glass half full/ Deepak Chopra mentality making me all sorts of mad while reassuring me that my feelings of inadequacy and defeat are valid but they do not define me and that I am better than what the voices in my head are trying to convince me of.

In him, I have a partner ( that I want to throttle on occasion). I have a confidant, I have my soulmate, my peanut gallery, my cheerleader. He makes me strive to be a better person every day, especially on the days where I don’t want to show up for life. I only hope that I have done the same for him, because I strive to be that rock in his life, and not the kind that gets in the way, but the kind you can hold on to, build from and build on.

He is the sun to my flower garden and I’m so happy that he still shows up, twelve years later.

Happy “Firsts” anniversary my love.