At first, performing the Bowl Meditation(*) seemed to require a very grim focus. I am, in essence, attending Lady Sigyn at the worst, darkest moment of Her entire existence to date.
Think about that, for a minute. For a Catholic, this would be contemplating the sorrows of Mary at Calvary as she knelt at the foot of the cross. Lady Sigyn, starving, sleepless, grieving, doing all she can to do right by Her Beloved and Her son.
Yet I find myself going to the shrine with some cheer.I don't mean I'm cracking wise in front of the shrine, or that I'm humming Tom Lehrer tunes while holding the bowl. No, I think about how blue the sky was that day, the funny thing I saw the squirrels do, the five most adorable things my cat did. And then I feel horrible that I'm not performing this devotion with suitable gravity.
Then, three nights ago, thoughts began seeping into my brain. Images of blue skies would be welcome to someone trapped underground. 'Normal' things are especially precious. So I try to open up a bit more, sit outside and cloud-watch for this Lady. I re-arranged part of my main shrine to better honor Her and Her family.
It's a richness and wonder I had not anticipated