PMS & Turkey: Thanksgiving for Cootie

I’m 32 years old. At this point in my Life I’ve finally made peace with my period. Or, at least, as much peace as one with a relatively healthy reproductive system can make with it anyway. I never can freaking remember when that magical date is each month that it’s supposed to start, but X can recite it at a moment’s notice (he is the best husband ever, have I mentioned that?). However, I do know when I tear up at fucking AT&T commercials, it’s coming soon.

Last week on Thursday was Thanksgiving. On Wednesday I started my period. Needless to say, I cried a lot last week. I don’t fight it like I used to. Don’t get angry about it or try to hide it wrapped in something else. I’m a girl. I get hormonal. Whoop-dee-fucking-do.

At this point in my Life, in addition to being ok with the insanity of crying for no REAL FUCKING REASON for at least a week out of every month, I’m finding myself being comfortable with a lot of things I never was before. I’m moody, that’s ok. I’m getting better at recognizing triggers for my mood swings. When I feel like it, I let them go. When I don’t, I don’t. I understand now that is my choice. I have a corny sense of humor & I laugh loudly. I cackle even. It’s a wicked sort of appreciative laugh. I am indulgent of my own whims and the whims of those I love. Self discipline isn’t really in my vocabulary. As a result, my weight yo-yo’s between 150 to 175 depending on the time of year & my stress levels. Additionally, my accounting skills leave something to be desired.  I hate balancing the checkbook. So I really just don’t. We fly by the seat of our pants with our bank accounts and sometimes have to pay for it.  I drink a lot. More than some, less than others.  I cuss like a sailor.  A pirate even. Some people are REALLY uncomfortable with that and I have a difficult time censoring myself… especially around those people.  I love my family. They are very conservative Christians and we have very different views on Religion & Politics, but I love them. And they Love me. I’ve missed having a good relationship with them over the past… oh… 17 or 18 years. I’m glad to be developing that with them again now.  All of these things, and more, make up who I am.

If I like you, if I’m interested in you at all, I want you to like me. I have a propensity for behaving/talking/acting in a way that will make you like me. I’m pretty good at it. I guarantee that if I have met you, I’ve done it with you at some point or another. At this point of my Life, I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to pretend 8 hours a day 5 days a week at work. I don’t want to pretend around people who are supposed to be my friends. I don’t want to pretend around family. And I ESPECIALLY don’t want to come home and pretend. So I don’t anymore. Well… I still have to at work sometimes. All of us has to sacrifice a bit of ourselves on the altar of  Corporate America at some point and time. It brings in a paycheck.

I spent all last week contemplating the things I am thankful for this year and crying… a LOT. Every time I’d think about it, I’d cry. I cried at work.  I cried at home. I cried in the car.  And then I got blitzed on Sangria and sat on our couch and flat out WEPT at Fiddler on the Roof then passed out… still on the couch.

So, with no further ado, at this point in my Life (drum roll) I am thankful for:

• My Friends:  They are Awesome. Hoodie Mafia, Hoodie Triad, Hoodie Family, and most recently, Hoodie Mafia UK; my out of state friends (whom I don’t get to see or talk to nearly often enough) SpiritWheel Coven, my Weasels in Hotlanta, Skan & Steph in AR, my dear Jack in KY;  my Belle & Bella; and all my Twitter & Facebook peeps; you are smart & funny & inspirational. I depend on you on a regular basis for support & entertainment. Thank you for being part of my Life. Thank you for sharing your Lives with me. I appreciate you so very much. Thank you for loving me for me.
• My Family: Mom, the older I get the more I think I’m like you. I think about you daily and I hope that you know how much I love you. Dad, I’m still a Daddy’s girl. Every time you smile at me I feel proud & happy. Lauren, I love you so much.  I miss you. I hope one day we can be close again. Alisha, you are my little sister. I am SO glad that, after all these years, we are building a relationship. It means so much to me I don’t even have the words to express it. I know I’m difficult. I know sometimes I’m blunt & undiplomatic. I know I’ve done some crazy stuff over the years and made no apologies for it. But through it all, you have loved me. You have never turned your backs on me. Even when you didn’t understand where in the World I was coming from, you stood by me.  Thank you.
• The Loves of my Past: Gods…that sounds like some cheesy movie title doesn’t it? But I am thankful for each and every one of the people that I have loved & lost in the past. My first husband created Punky with me. You loved me with an intensity that would set a standard in my mind that I wouldn’t recognize until many years later. J, you were my best friend. Sometimes I still think about the days of driving around East Knox county in your little silver pick-up truck, listening to Nirvana and smoking camels. You taught me what it meant to embrace the simple things in Life and be carefree & indifferent to those things beyond my control. Rain, you…well, you were the one that got away. You were the only person I ever wanted, pursued, and didn’t get. You were smart & strong, creative & spunky. I looked up to you so much. And you are still my Friend, which is wonderful beyond words. My second husband, you were my Teacher. You helped me gather some of the most basic building blocks for my Spiritual Path. You taught me everything I know about Ritual. You encouraged my love for road trips, introduced me to hard liquor & BDSM, you opened the door for me to be the geek that I am today.  You taught me how to be cynical & hard. You crushed my naivete.  K & J…I fear this is still too close for me to be completely objective about…but you took me in at a time when I was shattered, vulnerable, hungry & hurting.  In bringing me into the Collective, you probably helped me more than anyone else to develop my understanding and appreciation of myself as an individual.
• My kids: Punky, we’ve been through some shit, you & me. I haven’t always been there for you like I wanted to be. I haven’t always put you first like I wanted to. I haven’t always been able to buy you the things you wanted, and sometimes I haven’t been able to buy you the things you need. I’m not about to win any Mother of the Year awards, I know this. But you make me feel like the best Mother in the World.  I am so proud of you… sometimes just looking at you makes my heart swell so much I don’t think I can bear it.  B, our Walk together is just beginning. I have adored you since the first time you walked into my home, hiding behind your Dad, trying to make yourself small. You are fun & funny & amazingly intelligent. I am thrilled to be in your Life & I love you for accepting me and blessing me with your affection.
• My X: My husband, my Beloved, my High Priest, Brother, best Friend, Lover, my Knight of Cups, my King Mob, my Partner, the Love of my Life, my Last One, Darlin’; and all of the other names that I have, and have not yet, given you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You Love me without fail. You are patient & kind. You are strong & supportive. You have leaned on me and allowed me to lean on you as we have traveled together to this place & time where we both finally understand what it means to be whole & happy & fulfilled. You have built this wonderful home with me. You have laughed, cried, yelled, whispered, smiled, frowned, ran, crawled, danced & sang with me every step of the way. You have promised me your Forever & you have accepted mine. I am thankful every morning when I wake beside you and every night when I fall asleep beside you.  When we are apart nothing seems completely right and when we are together I don’t want to be anywhere else in the Universe. You are the embodiment of everything I’ve ever wanted/needed/desired in a Partner & more. You are perfect for me. And I am perfect for you. Ultimately, you have made it “ok” for me to be me. Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for Loving me. Thank you for accepting my Love for you. And thank you for being you. Because I Love who you are. So very much.

Happy Holidays, dear reader. I hope that you are Loved & Blessed.

Be excellent to each other, my Friends.

 

Well, what do you expect?

Well folks, we did it.  X & I got hitched on Halloween in a wonderful ceremony officiated by three of our best friends. We were surrounded by people we love dressed in a multitude of Awesome costumes.  We had SO MUCH FUN! It was the perfect wedding IMHO.

Three days into our married Life together, the inevitable happened. I made a comment on Twitter about not feeling well and before I knew it we were balls deep in ribbing & teasing about being pregnant. On any normal day I could have taken that in stride, but that was not a normal day. At that point, I had been feeling queasy, head-achey, irritable, and emotionally raw for about a week. Hormonal, maybe. Emotional backlash from getting married a third time, potentially. Who knows for sure, but the ribbing continued and by 6:30 in the evening I’d had enough and had a bit of a breakdown. So I did what any unstable Woman would have done in my shoes, I went upstairs and took a shower.

While showering I pondered what it was about the playful teasing from the people closest to me that set me off.  I realized that for the better part of the last 9 years of my Life I have spent a lot of time and energy on wanting another baby. Sometimes very desperately, so that I became depressed over it off and on for years.  I know that my first husband would have given me another baby, had I stayed with him. I know that my second husband would have never agreed to it. He never wanted kids. In the beginning of my relationship with J & K, K promised me a baby. “You are going to have my son.” he said, and OH MY GODS my heart ached in my chest at the words. I clung to that promise like a life raft through the uncertainty, fear and heartache the three of us went through together trying to make that relationship work. But J wanted another baby. More desperately than I did it seemed some times… at least she was more vocal about it. Part of me has always believed she needed it to prove that she could. Part of me believes it was her way of establishing something with K that I would never have, whether it was a conscious effort or not will never be known.  Regardless of the motivation behind it, we supported her and worked towards making it happen, and it did. She had his son. She bore the baby that was supposed to have been mine. But I helped in the conception and gave him a name, I took care of him, fed him, bathed him, changed his diapers, played with him, LOVED HIM LIKE MY OWN… and now, I am not allowed to see him. I haven’t seen him, nor his sister, since February. And often my heart aches with missing them.

When I told K & J that I had fallen in Love with X and was leaving, K desperately and passionately tried to convince me to stay. It was so hard… it was heartbreaking on so many levels… much of our conversations happened in the middle of the night when he would wake me, unable to sleep in his distress, and try to nail down the issues, try to fix things, try to repair the irreparable… much of our conversations I have lost and cannot remember.  But I do remember a couple of things he said to me, probably because they made such a profound impact on me and my understanding of how it was definitely time for me to leave that relationship.

“We knew this was going to happen,” he said, “We’ve been expecting it.”  He explained that he and J had been wanting to Handfast to me but were “waiting for this to happen”. He thought of me as his Wife, he told me.  If I had only waited a little bit longer, he explained. If I had only waited?  What?! So, let me get this straight… you’ve been expecting me to cheat and fall for someone else for the LAST FIVE YEARS and it was only AFTER I passed that test that you were going to make that commitment to me?!  It was only AFTER I passed that test that you were going to tell me how you felt?! Only then would I be deserving of the title?!  How backwards is it that you are going to wait until something threatens the relationship to tell someone you want to be with them for the rest of your Life?!

At some point after that conversation, I was sitting alone of the front porch, smoking & thinking. He came out to join me and, as was his habit, tried to nail me down to talk about what was on my mind. So I told him. I had been sitting there thinking about how badly I wanted another baby and was struggling with coming to terms with the fact that I wasn’t going to have one.  He apparently didn’t believe me because all hell broke loose after that, none of which is pertinent to this particular story…

Expectation rules Perception.

They spent our entire relationship expecting me to stray. I went into that relationship expecting the home & family I’d always wanted.  At least one of us got what we expected…

X expects the best of me. He expects me to choose him, every day. I expect the same from him and we expect to spend the rest of our Lives together. I also came into this relationship expecting I would never have another baby.

X had a vasectomy shortly after B was born.  12 years ago.  When our friends were teasing us about being pregnant they educated us on a little thing called recanalization. Apparently, some men’s little swimmers have overcome the seemingly impossible and found a way back to the urethra, in spite of the vasectomy.

So, suddenly I was smacked in the face with a real, however remote, chance that I could, in fact, be pregnant. Given the fact that X & I are intimate when ever and where ever possible AND given the fact that our sex has been a large part of our Spiritual & magickal workings for the last 9 months, it wouldn’t surprise me one damn bit if it happened to him.

Well, fuck-a-doodle-doo, hail Eris.

The emotional whip-lash of that realization is what caused my anger at our friends. As misdirected as it was.  We Cancers, sometimes it takes a while for things to filter down and come to full understanding.

So, X & I talked about it. I really don’t want to actively pursue getting pregnant. That’s a whole mess of Crazy that I just don’t want to delve into. He could have a surgery to try to reverse the vasectomy, but there’s no guarantee that it will work. I don’t want to be artificially inseminated with someone else’s sperm. And neither of us are really keen on the idea of inviting one of our male friends to do the deed. So, we are left with the remote possibility that somehow one of his little guys makes it through and manages to find one of my little gals and by a near miraculous act 9 months later little Ripley is born.

After three long term relationships, years of on-again off-again bc, and many nights of using the thrills and spills method producing nothing, I’m ok with letting the Fates decide this one.

 

So, speaking of Love…

…I’m getting married, in precisely… 1 day, 22 hours, and 54 minutes… so sayeth the Countdown Clock on my cell phone.

To say “I’m excited!” would be a severe understatement.

To say “I am excited-scared-happy-outofmymind-giddy-nervous-ecstatic-andbeyondunderstandablespeech” would be a bit closer.

Have I told you, dear readers, about my X?  I know that the last year or so of my blog Life has been sporadic and full of half-entries spewing whatever happened to bubble to the surface at the moment that I was feeling the need to blog. But have I really told you about my X?

…and immediately I struggle with words…damn the shortcomings of language!  Give it a name, right?  I will try…I will fail… but I will try.  He is smart, funny, sarcastic, handsome, thoughtful, romantic, considerate, respectful, genuine, caring, sexy… he inspires me, he makes me think, he encourages me… he Loves me, adores me, worships me, cherishes me… he cooks me dinner, he makes me drinks, he does laundry & washes dishes, he loves my family (!),  he decorates with me, he sings with me, he cries with me, he laughs with me, he will listen to me without talking, he will hold me without asking what’s wrong, he will drive when I need him too and let me drive when I want to, he is my High Priest, he is the Love of my Life, he is my Partner, he knows when to rub my back or when to rub my feet, he listens to my dreams and supports them, he expects the best of me, he takes pictures of me and brags about me, he LOVES MY KID and she loves him, he vacuums, he brings me sangria and chocolate, he will make Love to me and he will fuck me AND ALL OF THESE THINGS ARE SEPARATE AND CONNECTED AND IMPORTANT BEYOND WORDS.

In short, X has made me a believer.

Before his Love:

I felt the idea of “soul mates” was fairy tale-ish and immature. I thought the concept of “true love” was a simplistic and unrealistic idea. I thought happiness was what you made of it. I thought love stories were bull shit and I loudly heckled television shows & movies that portrayed romatic relationships. I struggled with the concept of romance and ridiculed myself for wanting it. I talked myself into a desperate place where I tried to balance deep thinking with shallow feeling.  I tried to drown believing with thinking.  I tried to hide myself from myself.

Now:

Well… if you’ve read my recent blog posts you know, I’m a believer.

And in less than 2 days, I will be Mrs. X.  Hail Eris.

 

I am a night owl.

And I work a day job.

Suck.

I hate getting up before 10 am. I don’t really get geared up and going until right around 4 pm. Then I’m jazzed until around 1 am.  It’s a grueling schedule when I have to get up at 6:45 am to get myself, my X, and my Darkling going for work/school.

So, case in point, at the moment I am emailing zip files to B. He got an iPod shuffle for his birthday and he needs MP3s.

What the Darklings need Cootie & X provide.

Thankfully, X is a night owl too. Of course, that just means working a day job is just as hard on him as it is on me.  Poor bastard.

This time next week, X & I will be in Wilmington, NC. At a resort hotel. With a private balcony overlooking the ocean. Does it get any better than that?  I think not, my friends. I think not.

In two weeks we are getting married.

Yeah. Married. The big “M”.

And I’m so excited and so happy and so In Love it’s nauseating I know.

I’m rambling now, so I’ll let you go before I lose you and me and everyone else in the ride. But let me say this, watch for the Future, Friend. It’ll be here sooner than you think.

 

The tick-tock of the clock is painful…

10 points – Name the song and the band. : )

Missed me?

I’ve been busy. Fucking hell.  Where to start?  Probably where I left off.  Or somewhere in between.

School just started back up again!   This semester I am enrolled in German I, Business Communication & Report Writing, and the same Math class that I took last Fall because I failed it. Blah. I’m thrilled about the German class. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. The Math class… well, you can imagine how excited I am to be re-taking that.  The Business class is a crock, but necessary for my goals. I changed my major! The dissolution of the Collective left me floundering a bit and questioning my goals & my direction for the future. The parting was such that it was made clear to me that I am to have nothing further to do with the Memoreum project, so I was left with the question: Do I still want to be a Funeral Director? The answer came as a resounding “No”.  That, of course, led to another question: So what the hell do I want to do then? After a lot of debate & soul searching I decided on pursuing just a general associates degree with a certification in small business management.

Why small business management? Because X & I are finally going to make our dreams come to fruition and open a store together!

Cool huh?  We’re going to start on-line, the Ebay store should be up and running soon. Our goal is to open it on Dia de los Muertos. We also want to set up our own website in conjunction with the Ebay store (Fire, are you interested?  Shoot me an email or give me a call when you get some free time. We’ll need a quote.) We’re calling it Cootie & X’s Full Circle, specializing in eclectic clothing and arcane books of the second hand variety. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?  We’ve got our profile and Me page up. Check it out: http://members.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewUserPage&userid=cootiexsfullcircle . It makes me giggle every time I look at it. I’m so excited I’m practically beside myself over it.

Besides that X & I have a lot going on right now and are facing some big decisions that will bring major changes to our little family over the course of the next year.  But that’s ok, we’re ready for it.

We are getting ready to finish up Fire in our Element Walk and roll right into Water. It is fascinating to see how the Walk evolves and changes in each Element. Fire has been quite different from Air and I imagine Water will follow suit.

Hands down, this has been the best Summer of my Life. We spent a lot of time by the pool, boat drinks in hand, soaking up the Sun. I’m tan. Amazing. I haven’t been tan since I was 14 years old. We’ve played many a game of Scrabble and a few hands of cards. We’ve had amazing fun with Friends.  My relationship with my Family has grown stronger and healed so much.  I have re-discovered so many things that I love and had forgotten.  Oh!  And we expanded on our Bill & Ted’s philosophy to create the X & Cootie Credo!

1. Be excellent to each other.
2. Do what is necessary and be as polite as possible.
3. Find the positive. If you can’t find the positive, find the funny.
4. Whatever works.
5. Pics or it didn’t happen.
6. Be nice to old Gypsy Women. They can fuck your shit up!
7. When someone asks if you are a god, say “Yes!”.

We are forming some sort of Pagan/Discordian/Geek hybrid tradition here, and I love it.

I am very much looking forward to the Fall. It is, after all, our favorite time of the Year.

Hail Eris!

 

So… just what is Love, exactly?

I love my Daughter.

I love chocolate.

I love my boot collection.

I love hot tubing.

I love October.

I love Scota.

I love purple.

I love dark beer.

I love horror movies.

I love my friends.

I love X.

 

I think this is where our language fails us.  How is it that we can use one word to encompass so much? How can we apply one word to boots and our offspring and our Partner and the Divine?  They are not equal. Not by a long stretch my friend.

All of my Life I have been unable to make a distinction between the love that I had for my friends and the love that I had for whomever I was in a relationship with at the time.  6 months ago, I had myself convinced that I was poly and that as such; I was hardwired toward a Life of multiple partners and could not be satisfied with monogamy.  Now, my logical mind says that monogamy is a choice, much like my sexuality I can be attracted to Women and Men and choose to be in a relationship with one or the other and be satisfied as such or visa versa. 6 months ago, I was in a polyfidelitous triad and resigned to live as such… unfulfilled maybe, but happiness came and went in degrees. Peaks and valleys, right?  Such is Life. So, logic aside, I lived in doubt more often than not.

Yesterday I realized, for the first time ever, that I feel a distinct difference in the Love I have for X and the love I have for my friends. Even for my Lady Ice who is closest to me than any other next to X. There is a difference. I remember, 5 years ago when the Collective was very new and J said to me “There is a difference.” In her love for me and her Love for K.  I didn’t understand then.  I said I did, but I didn’t, not really.

Now I understand.

What she meant was that she is “in Love” with K but not me. She loved me; no doubt. I know she loved me… maybe still does. But she was…is… in Love with K.  I understand now.  I understand because I am in Love with X.  For the first time in my Life, I am in Love.  And that is a strange and weird realization to come to at 32 years old with 3 failed long term relationships under your belt. Two of which were marriages.

So now I know what it means: to be in Love.

Now I know. And it is wonderful.

I’d like to be apologetic. To J and W, Thing One & Two, to K and J… I loved them the best I could… I just wasn’t in Love with them. Weird that I thought I was. It just goes to further the understanding of how Perspective changes everything. I’d like to be apologetic… but, I think it would smack insincere. I loved them.  I did the best I could. It just never was enough.

 

Growing pains.

Is it possible for your heart to hurt from an abundance of Love & Joy?  Like growing pains maybe?  Or maybe this evening the lump in my throat and the rock in my chest are there because my baby turns 13 tomorrow… tonight, as I was tucking her in bed, she said to me “After tonight I won’t be your little girl anymore. I’ll be a teenager!”

It took everything I had in me to keep from crying in that moment.

My Punky is growing up. There’s nothing I can do to stop it. There’s nothing I can do to avoid it.

I think it best to weather this as I have all scary things in Life: grab a beer, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

I am enjoying Life. X & I have decided to get married, did you know? 11/5/10, yes sir. Always remember the fifth of November. I feel… relief. Is that weird? Among the happiness and giddyness and Love and Joy I feel relieved. Light. Like I am Home. I can kick my shoes off, get a drink, and relax. Finally. It is good.

 

And it begins… again.

Life is cyclical you know. I love coming full Circle. It lets me know I’m on the right Path… or something like that.

I started my Path as a Pagan a little over eleven years ago. I was 20 years old, married to my first husband, and we had a one year old daughter. I was green and naïve and desperate to feel connected. I did not feel connected to my husband. He was in the Army. I was a stay-at-home mom. We lived in Augusta, Georgia of all places and I was alone. I was introduced to Wicca through an (not so) old flame on one of my visits back home.  I began my studies in earnest, insanely excited about the possibilities that were opening before me as I read about the ancient and modern practices involved in various Pagan Traditions. I felt like I finally found my Way.

My husband did not agree.

We divorced two years later.

Shortly before my divorce I met my Teacher and began training with my Grove. They were my Family. During my training with the Grove I learned everything I know about Ritual. I went through my Element Walk and I worked through three degrees. I loved them. The Grove was my World.

My first Element Walk lasted four months. I’d always felt like my training was rushed. I struggled with Fire. Air too, but not as much. I’m a Cancer. Crabby Girl loves Water. No problem there. I’m grounded more than most people you’ll ever meet, Earth not a problem.  Air was a little more difficult, but I got it. Fire was difficult for me.  In fact, I didn’t really “get” Fire until well after my 2^nd degree. 

I never really had a High Priestess. There was the One who initiated me, but she did not train me and her involvement in my Life was peripheral at best.  She participated in my initiations and left my training to my Teacher. Now… well, now she won’t have anything to do with me because of my 2^nd husband.  I’m rambling now… my point is that it was in a Circle with her Coven that I first felt that I actually connected with Fire.

Three years into my training I received my 3^rd degree initiation and became High Priestess of my Grove. I received that initiation in the desert of New Mexico. It was mid June. The sun was just starting to set. The sky was an amazing turquoise behind the painful beauty of the red rock cliffs and the wind was blowing hard and straight. The wind is always blowing in the canyon. I watched as my Teacher cast Circle. I was there when he gave me 3^rd degree. But I couldn’t hear a word he said. I couldn’t feel him. I was alone with the Wind and the Desert and They were all I could hear. They were all I could feel. I was alone and I felt empty and I was confused. I should have felt connected to my husband. My Teacher. But I did not. I was alone. The Wind was all I could hear. 

Tonight X & I began our Element Walk together. We will spend the next few months working through Air. At the Summer Solstice we will move on to Fire and so on and so forth.  This was our first formal Ritual together. We worked skyclad and made Love as part of the Ritual.

To say it was Awesome is an understatement.

Tonight I felt connected. Tonight, I did not feel alone. I did not feel empty.

 I felt connected.

I’m looking forward to this Working.

Come to think of it, I’m looking forward to the rest of my Life. And I am not afraid, for once. I am not afraid.

It’s kinda funny, that.

 

Of sex and magic.

Or magick, whichever you prefer. *shrug* Give it a name, right?

I used to live a magical Life.  I was in Circle at least twice a month, often more. My home was full of altars and shrines. It was guarded by magical Beings, hexed and sealed and protected. I walked with fairies and dragons. I had a partner, a Priest, who taught me and helped me build a foundation for my Spiritual Walk. I saw things, heard things, felt things, and EXPERIENCED things that go beyond the ordinary day to day existence. I lived on a plane where magic was a natural part of the Universe that flowed within and without me. Everything had a point and purpose, whether I could see it or not. Anything was possible. I lived in a World of Infinite Potential. I was plugged in… connected… in tune.

But the capacity in which I operated in that World was flawed. And soon it began to crack. And soon it began to crumble. And one day it fell down around my ears and, in what seemed to be an instant, it was left in ruins. When it fell, I thought part of me died with it. I’ve spent the last 5 years of my Life struggling to reconnect. Half-heartedly seeking a group to Circle with and/or half-hoping I would find another Teacher. For the last 5 years, not always, but more often than not, I have felt like I was merely going through the motions. I knew that magic was still there, still around me, still within in me, but I couldn’t reach it. Once in a while I could sense it, like catching a whiff of a perfume that reminds you of someone from long ago, from a faraway place. There were a handful of times I could grasp it for a short while… but it was like trying to hold onto a mist and soon I found myself searching again.

Recently I ended a five year relationship with two people that, once upon a time, were my best friends. They took me in when I was at the lowest point in my Life. They dressed my wounds, supported me, encouraged me, coddled me, and loved me. They were good to me. It seemed to me that they worked hard to make me happy. And I was happy, for the most part. But I was not fulfilled. There was something missing. I was missing the magic. That may sound bloody romantic and idealistic but I do not apologize for using the term, because that is the Truth. We could not connect. We could not create that which I was missing. And I don’t know why… it certainly was not for lack of trying. It just wasn’t there. But there was passion, by the gods, there was passion.  In the beginning that was enough to convince me to go for it, to try my hand at such an unconventional, and decidedly difficult, relationship dynamic. I mean, I was stepping into an already existing decade long relationship. Can you say “third wheel”? We met some issues, worked through them to the best of our ability, some sooner than later, and some later than sooner… some were never fully resolved. But we tried. Being with them helped me to learn a lot about myself, my habits – both good and bad, and my needs. They pushed my limits and tested my capacity for love & friendship.

This past Summer I took on a new magical name. The name I had was mine for nearly 10 years but I had gotten to the point where I wasn’t even using it anymore.  That person was gone. I had changed and I was still desperately trying to find that missing piece… trying to reconnect… to rekindle that spark and breathe Life back into my Spirit Self. It was right about that time that I began to realize that flame was indeed being kindled and my Life Path was being yet again pulled in another direction.

It’s funny… the roads that Life takes us down.

Last night, in the arms of my Beloved, I felt as if I were awakened. Last night, when we climaxed together, I felt our combined magic flow through me as if it were an electric current that shot straight up through my 7^th chakra and out into the Universe beyond.

I realize how this sounds; bear with me please, because I’m not just talking about really good sex.  I’ve had really good sex.  I spent the last 5 years in a relationship with two people who were more than happy to indulge any fantasy I expressed and who did it well.

This transcended anything I’d experienced before. This was Magic fueled by the inexorable symbiotic Love that we share. When we finished and collapsed, breathing hard, holding each other, gasping and sweaty, I breathed “My gods… that must be what it feels like to be a staff or a wand or athame. To be a channel for that raw energy… to have that power flow through you.”  X caressed my arm, tracing an endless infinity symbol on its skin like he does, “Like in your dream.” He said.

My dream?

My dream!

“I am the axis mundi!” I said, “I am the Creation and the Creator.” “Yes, Love.” He said, holding me tighter. And I cried. I felt something stir in my Spirit as an animal waking from a long hibernation and I clung to him and just absolutely sobbed and babbled a string of nearly incoherent thoughts and feelings as they bubbled to the surface. He held me and listened. Every word was nonsense but he understood it all. It was phenomenal; truly moving. It has been so long since I felt that Strength.

Soon, I will have a new home. A new Life. Soon I will unpack my Ritual Tools and my altars to put them in my new home. It is time to recharge them. To recharge me.

 It is time to reclaim my magical Life.

And it’s about damn time.

 

Grief is heavy.

”Grief is heavy. Have you noticed?” I texted X on Tuesday.

“All thoughts and emotions have weight and substance” was his reply, “especially sad ones.”

 

I was sitting in the ICU waiting room at Fort Sanders with my friend Myst. Next to my Lady J, I am closer to Myst than any female.  She is one of my Chosen Family. She is a cornerstone of my Inner Circle. Tuesday my heart broke as I watched her struggle with the knowledge that her Mother was dying. I held her hand and we cried together, each grappling silently with the futility of wishing there was something we could do; each pondering the hard face of mortality that is often taken for granted.

 

Grammy held on until last night when she passed through the veil about 7 pm. I was not with my friend when it happened, but she was surrounded by her family, people who knew and loved Grammy in her Life. While I did not know her well, I thought she was a cool Lady. She always greeted me with a smile and her influence on the people that I love is apparent

 

A family dealing with the loss of a loved one is a very intimate thing. It is challenging, being on the outside of a grieving family; trying to figure out where you can help, when it is appropriate for you to be there, and what to say or not say.  It will be, I’m sure, a never ending learning process… but, in spite of how hard it is, in spite of how painful it is, with all of the families that I will be working with in the future facing the same thing I hope I never become numb to it. I hope that I can always feel it, always relate, always know… to somehow help. If by nothing else but being there to listen.

 

I love you Myst. Your sadness is my sadness. If you need me for anything, I will not be far away.  Just say the word and I will come.