I have started losing bits and pieces of knowledge regarding my Eclectic practice. It happened so much faster than I had anticipated. I'm three fourths of a year into Hellenism at this point, and already, I had to think about the importance of Beltane, had to look up which Wheel of Year festival comes next, and a few days ago, I was walking through an abandoned park after dark and could not remember the chant to the Goddess I used to sing when I felt threatened or frightened. It only came to me when I was lying in bed that night.

I had expected it to happen sooner or later, when you dive into something as deep, as completely--without looking back--as I have Hellenismos, something has got to give. Yet, the speed of my brain's and heart's willingness to let go of things I have been practicing for more than a decade is shocking. I've been sitting here, probing my brain to find the holes for the better part of twenty minutes, and while I can recover most of the information I knew by heart, it's coming to me sluggishly. The Hellenistic information, however, is fresh on my mind. Festivals, ritual steps, mythology, all easily within reach, ready to be put to good use.

I never blogged or kept a journal when I was still Eclectic, so that may have something to do with it. They say that information you write down stays in your mind longer, don't they? It's what I was taught as school, anyway. Also, because blogging is a daily thing for me, I get to refresh my mind and expand on my knowledge every single day. It's not that odd these neural pathways are stronger than the pathways for information painstakingly gathered over the course of years but only brought into practice eight times a year and during discussions.

Exactly like the latest incarnation of Sherlock Holmes on 'Elementary', I subscribe to the 'attic' theory. Like Sherlock says:

"I've always believed the human brain is like an attic: storage space, facts, but because that space is finite, it must be filled only with things one needs to be the best version of oneself. It's important, therefore, not to have useless facts."

Now, of course, the brain doesn't really work that way; it has the capacity to grow, form new neural pathways, and absorb more knowledge, but only if that knowledge is brought out, repeated, and practiced on a regular basis. Else, the neural pathways wither, while others get stronger. The information is still there, but because the little library nerds in our brain much prefer to use the freeways, pressuring them into taking the little back roads to barely used knowledge takes a lot of effort and brain power.

So, now I have a choice: I can either invest a portion of the time I'm already struggling to find for Hellenistic research and practice into keeping the pathways to my previous practice strong enough to call on when needed, or I can let those pathways overgrow and rely on literature to remind me when I'm in need of certain information. The latter option is a scary one to me, although I don't want to take time away from Hellenismos. I like having all this knowledge at my disposal, and I was truly dismayed to find I couldn't recall a chant I used to sing on repeat at least once a week before my progression into Hellenismos.

As scary as it is, I think I'm going to admit defeat and let my brain work itself out. Hellenismos is my path, and what came before has shaped my views, but is now antiquated. It's safe to let the facts, numbers and correspondences go in favor of having to look them up at a later date. Coming back to the attic theory, I need the space, because there is still so much to learn about Hellenismos, so many ancient writers to read, so much left to practice and so much to ponder. I don't want to forgo that because I'm scared of severing a tie I thought I had already severed.

I'm going to get my brain clean for the ever-incoming stream of Hellenic and Hellenistic information. We'll see what remains of the practices of the old.