For my entire existence, I have struggled with a deformity in my leg. I can walk, but it’s slow, and it hurts me.
Hermes, Apollon, Ares, all the gods, really, would outpace me no matter how slowly they tried to walk. They weren’t ever mean about it. They just always forgot.
Everyone forgot. My own temples had stairs. MY OWN TEMPLES HAD STAIRS. That was just how they made temples, and no one ever gave it a second thought.
I want you to know that there are people out there who you aren’t thinking about. Maybe they have an illness, visible or otherwise, and easily get tired. Maybe they have a physical issue that makes stairs painful or impossible. Maybe they can’t read your handouts because they have a visual impairment. Maybe they can’t hear your inspiring speeches when your back is to them.
This is all I ask: give it a second thought. For me.
When you see someone, and their limits aren’t the same as yours, think of me. If it was me, the god of fine arts and invention, the deity who brought you painting, pottery, circuitboards — brought you every metal implement you have ever laid hands on — and I was right in front of you, looking up a long winding path, or a daunting set of stairs, trying to get into your ritual space, what would you do?
If you knew I was going to show up, would you prepare your ritual or your space differently?
Consider me on your guest list. Permanently. Ask me what I need so that I can be in your space and participate equally. Because I assure you, there is nothing “less than” about me.