The Dark Side

I made an observation the other night. I was at Aisling and Thorns house for a family ritual. I made a comment to Aisling as we were walking in downtown Campbell that I wanted to start paying attention to my blog again, and also start doing the writing that I've been saying I was going to start forEVER. Then it hit me. We're getting closer to the dark side of the wheel. It's always been my time of power, not that I don't have power the rest of the time but that this is the time when I go within. This is the time when all the spirits that reside within me want to take a little peek outside while the rest of me turns inward. And now here I am sitting before my computer with my little blog staring back at me, waiting for some wisdom.
Well, not sure how much wisdom I can create but I have lots to say. I don't think I've ever had a year like I've had. There are so many fantastic, glorious, scary, disturbing, and downright awesome things that I've learned and experienced since I've last blogged. Where to start? I don't think I could ever tell everything (and some are sworn to secrecy!) but I've decided to do what I do best. I'll just tell stories and see how it feels. I'm considering an exercise in teaching my way. So here's a biggie.
On the eve of a most powerful time in my life, my ordination to become a Dianic High Priestess in the Amazon Tradition, the death of my marraige was inevitable. Literally, two night before I was to leave for our weekend of magic, life, death, rebirth, community, and celebration of our accomplishments, my husband and I were sitting in our garage all night, chainsmoking and talking to each other in truth for the first time in I don't know how long. We were both extremely unhappy in our current situation. Our lives were totally different. Neither one of us were willing to accept and admit defeat because nobody believed we could love each other and stay together. Honesty, I think that's one of the big reasons we hung on as long as we did. Losing a child makes the odds of divorce go skyhigh and we had survived it, battered and weary, but we were still here. Another reason we didn't want to face our unhappiness was because of my health. I've always been ill but when I was pregnant with Parker it brought on gastroparesis and Tim has always felt responsible for my current situation. Because I can't work he has been my sole supporter for the past 4 years. If we got divorced how would I survive?We has a very long and emotional conversation but decided to wait until after my ordination weekend to deal with the facts. When I left for my retreat I knew we were getting a divorce and I also knew that Tim wouldn't abandoned me.
When I came home (all about my ordination to come later) we decided that Tim would support me for the next two years which is how long it will take for Dakota to graduate from high school and head his butt to college. Two weeks later I was moving into a tiny apartment close to Dakota's school and we were trying to adjust. It took a few very uncomfortable and miserable weeks before emotions cooled and Tim and I could talk civil to each other again. Money is still an issue and I'm sure it will always be. Money sucks.
Here's the good news. I'm in my own space again. I have my things everywhere and I don't have to share it with icky men who leave their underwear on the floor or put dishes in the sink expecting the dish fairy to come in and clean them. I've started making spell paper and I think people really like it. I won't be rich but I just might be comfortable in the future. I've picked up part time work doing transcription for a computer company. Again, not rich but I'm doing something for myself finally. Dakota and I are feeling comfortable together and actually get along when he feels like coming out of his room. lol. I can have my witch friends and sisters over to my place to hang out. I don't have to ask anyone else and I don't have to frantically clean up the mess that others have made. I just say "sure, come over whenever you'd like"...and they do. It's nice.
The best part is that Tim and I are now close friends. All the pressure that our destructive relationship put on both of us is gone. We don't have to fight about the little shit anymore. I don't care if he's always hanging out with his friends and I don't monitor his actions like a needy little wife anymore. He doesn't have to worry about what his family thinks of me (don't ask) or if his friends can come over without me being rude, which I am to one of his dumbass buddies. Oh how I hate that piece of shit. Anyway, don't have to deal with it anymore!!! Don't get me wrong, it's not perfect, but it's so much nicer.
So I guess that even though we are divorcing we are still proving them wrong because we still are together. Not as a married couple but as two people who care about each other and are now able to support each others needs and life goals. Well, my life goals. He's just trying to get through the day at this point. Hey, you try supporting two households in this economy! But he said he would do it so I'm holding him to it!
So that's the beginning of my blog comeback. I know it's not all witty and wise but it's one major change in my life this past light side of the wheel. More to come later. It's time for the Kiz to try and get some sleep.
love to my peeps,
Kismet

The desire to live

During the darkest parts of the wheel I feel most comfortable, normally, but this year has been especially difficult for me. Now tragic events, no deaths of someone close to me since this summer, but still, an awkwardness living inside this body that I strangely chose as I prepared for my birth this time around. If I could communicate with the soul that is me I think that would be the first question. Why did we choose such hardship in a physical form. I'm not even talking about the hardships that came with life, the normal stuff that a disfunctional family bestows apon a happless woman as she grows up. I wouldn't even ask about why it has always been so hard to feel like I belong somewhere, even in times when it's obvious that people have liked me, or got my humor, or even wanted to marry me. No, I would only ask why our mind is so much alive and vital while the body decays and breaks down so slowly that it only seems a waiting game.
During this season I have had an internal struggle, going back and forth between happiness for what I have and this deep dispair of what life could be like without all of this nonsense of my health. Here is what gets me. Just two days ago I was ready to give up. I don't mean suicide, for I think that option should be left to others. What I mean is simply laying down on my bed or couch and making a decision to just stop fighting the cause. It's a bit more complicated than for the normal person. When I say laying down and giving up it's not just a typical rant and rave and a big long nap. I mean that every day is a challenge for me to get up and take my numerous meds, make myself drink nutritional drinks that give me some energy, eat something small just to feel normal, fight with doctors who don't understand all of my disease processes, and put on a happy face as much as possible, all the while I've got an inner dialog that's saying, "Just do it Kismet, just do it." It would be all so easy to just stop.
I wonder every day why I'm still here and what my purpose is and what it is that I'm supposed to do here before I die. Yes, it's morbid, but I'm kinda like that anyway. I try and try to figure out what I'm doing to make this Earth a better place to be in. One of my sisterwitches texted me a message a few months back with some very wise and intuitive insight. She said that maybe I was here (here, being in my community and my coven) to teach my sisters about life and death. I thought that was cool. Maybe my whole process is to teach them about life, love, and death, and that I'm just the vehicle. I could handle that, I really could. And I would like them to learn that you have to live hard and love hard and then die with a bang.
But I regress. I wanted to talk about today and the lesson that I learned, but still only partly understand. I had one hell of a low bloodsugar today around noon. I tested and my meter said I was at 61. My first thought was that I was so happy that I could feel the symptoms when I wasn't in emergency mode. This should have been my first clue. What ended up happening was I treated myself for a 61, when actually I was dropping much farther and at a very fast pace. After eatting something I laid down to wait out the icky feeling that you get. I don't know how long I was laying there but I had dropped so low that I was unable to help myself. The only thing I could do was call out to the livingroom for help. My son came in with juice and candy ( he still thinks that candy is sugar, therefore eat candy). My husband caught on and came running. Once afuckinggain Tim saved my life. My bloodsugar was below 20. I was shaking and sweating and talking crazy talk, like I always do when I'm killing off braincells with a low. Afterwards I had to sleep off the day due to exhaustion and the messed upedness that happens to my body afterwards. Tim would come in periodically to test my blood and tell me to give myself more insulin as it was needed. I'm now a complete ragdoll, but at least it's over until the next one.
The big lesson is I realized that during these episodes where it's do or die I am fighting to live. I have gastroparesis so it's hard to get sugar absorbed fastly so it's always a gamble whether or not I'll end up passing out and twitching before anything gets processed. During these times, and especially today, I was fighting to stay alive. This coming two days after I was thinking that it wouldn't be so hard to just stop. Huh, maybe there's something in there that I need to probe deeper to get to. Well, I plan on doing just that next year. I have someone who loves me very much (she says so) who is willing to take time out of her enormously busy life, to help me deal with all of my internal struggles. How cool is that?
So for now, I just try to have things to look forward to...something that I can see in the horizon that keeps me excited to live. I have Amazon stuff to do, I'm going to see Wicked in May, and Monica Richards asked in an email to me if we could meet up when she comes to San Francisco on tour next year. I've also got the job of making my son think I'm strange and weird and all that good stuff. He asked me yesterday why I couldn't just act like a mom. I replied that I was, I was acting like HIS mom. Maybe he will someday be asking his soul why he chose such a freaky mom. lol

This One Time....At Witch Camp....

When I first signed up for the Gathering the Goddess I was convinced that no matter how I was feeling I was going. Nothing was going to stop me from experiencing this. No way no how. As the weeks and days drew near that nagging little voice that follows me everywhere started in with her shit about how I might not be able to do it. "It's too long and too far away. What if I have some kind of emergency? Maybe I should just donate my spot to some other eager witch looking for a good time." But then my fuck you voice kicked in and took over. "I'm going and I will have fun if it kills me. Put all your shit in the fucking suitcase and hit the road." So off I went...

Spent the night with my sister Aisling and her Tina, having way too much fun, especially since I had never met Tina before and I usually don't unleash my madness on people until at least the second date. The next morning (yes, as in a.m.) Aisling, Manea and I took off for the Santa Cruz Redwoods. I must mention here that we couldn't leave until Aisling did....well, I don't know what she did. She moves too fast and I can't keep up. And there was much mushy lovey-dovey spit swapping going on with Manea and James. We finally pried her out of his clutch and threw her in the truck.

We got there early. Thank the Goddess that Aisling was in a mad assed rush to get there because then we wouldn't have had all that time to do nothing. I love doing nothing. Actually we were scouting out the perfect cabin. Much later, after some canoodling from Rabbit we were finally in the cabin of our choice. One big room with 12 beds in bunkbed style.....and lots and lots of dirt between me and the bathroom. That part sucked. Finally! We had arrived.

I could go on and on about the fabulous women we met and the amazing things we did and we learned and we loved, but that would be pages and pages. Besides, most of you reading this were there, so that's kinda redundant, right?

The real meat of my story comes the second night of the gathering. By midday I had started feeling sick. Not a big surprise to me but a big let down. I admitted to myself that I just couldn't get up the strength or the courage to go to the ritual that night. It was in a huge hole in the Earth with a firepit in the middle. But no bed and no bathroom...except for a port-a-potty and I really couldn't see myself dealing with my "bathroom issues" in a stinky upright coffin. No thanks, I'll pass. HA! That was a pun that was unintentional...lol...pass. Well, that's what I did. I passed on the ritual and spent a lot of time in the bathroom doing another kind of pass, but it finally got done and I had a couple of hours to lay around and rest. I usually have to get some time after a "pass" to deal with the pain, or the coming down from the pain.

Well, when my sisters had left they had left open both doors to the cabin to let in a breeze. Both doors were on the same wall. There were also two windows left open, on on the wall with the doors and one on the opposite wall, which finally let in a nice breeze as the sun started going down. At one point a little field mouse came wizzing in, ran to the cooler, over to Heaven's stuff, and then ran back out. It startled me at first but then I thought " Poor little things just lookin for a bite to eat." I layed there cooling off from the hottness of the day and dreaming of the ritual that was taking place about a half mile from where I was. I pictured fire and women and song....pretty much what had gone on the night before, except this time I was far away. At least I was healing, I knew I was healing. And then I dozed off....

Something woke me up. It was totally dark outside by now and both doors and windows were still open. It was a noise, but I didn't know what it was so I played possum. I just layed still and waited....and then something was moving across the cabin. It was a bag that Iris had left on the floor. Her bed was by the far door and now her bag was inching slowly out the door. What the hell? All my nerve endings shot out heat at the same time. Panic. But what the...? I grabbed onto my ovaries and made myself get up and walk over there...totally spooked, but too curious not to investigate. Wait...didn't curiosity kill the cat? So I creep over there while the bag is still inching out the door and when I finally come up to where I can peek around the corner there is the cutest little raccoon I had ever seen. Okay, I haven't seen a lot in person, but the one's I've seen have been big and fat and overfed by humans. This little cutey looked young and thin. "No, no, no. You can't have the bag. Iris will kill me if I let you take it." I bent down and started to pull it back and as I did he reached up and grabbed what it was he had been after in the first place. Iris had a plastic baggie stash of snacks. The baggie had already been torn into and my hand got his little raccoon slobber on it when I picked it up. A small box of raisins had been nibbled on. As I was talking to this little guy he just stayed right there and listened to me. "Oh well, you already got a couple and she won't want them now." I said as I tossed them outside....and then shut the door. I put the bag up on the bed and laughed to myself, thinking of the great story I had to tell everyone when they got back. I walked over to the other door and went outside to see if he had taken the raisins. Yup, gone. How cute is that? I went in and shut the door and layed back on my bed, wondering what message a raccoon is supposed to indicate in the magical realm of things. I picked up a Susan Weed pamphlet I had picked up earlier that day and was reading about her different classes in New York when I noticed that a little face was staring at me. That little guy had climbed up onto the garbage can and onto the window sill...and now he was looking at me....wanting more raisins, I guess. And he brought his brother.

At this poing he was kinda creeping me out, but still cute, so I took a picture because nobody was going to believe the determination of this little dude. So I snapped the shot, all the while telling him that he was crossing boundaries that I wasn't comfortable with. You just don't climb into a window when the witch inside is NOT a camper and is all alone....in the dark....with the only food (evidently) for miles....no phone service....no 911.....no nothing. So I shooo'd him away, opened the door and did the same to his brother. Oh, and I shut the window. After all that excitement I climbed back into my bed and proceeded to think about how freakin scary it was becoming to be all alone out in the woods at night by myself. Kinda like BlairWitch, but it's the witch getting terrorized. I'm also the kinda girl who hears bumps in the night and imagines all kinds of boogeymen coming after me. So calming down wasn't that easy.

HOLYSHITWHATTHEFUCKISTHATNOISE?????? scratchscratchscratchscratch. I jump up in bed and look over at the window. The cute little raccoon has now become fucking CUJO and he wants in. He's standing on his back legs and scratching at the glass on the window. I can read his mind "Bitch, let me in. I know you have food. I want the raisins. Your all alone and can't defend yourself against me and my brother. Now let us the fuck in!!!!" Oh crap, this isn't fun anymore. I want my mom. I want my husband. I want my sisters to come back and make him go away. I want a damn flashlight. Why? I don't know, but I can't find one. " Go Away Cujo, you little bastard." Then he backs off and disappears. My heart continues to race right along with my mind. Cujo is getting bigger and bigger in my head, my sisters are getting farther and farther away and when they get back they will find a dead pink haired Kismet with no face. Oh why oh why did I come to this camping thing? I sit on the bed and question my sanity. What if I have to pee? And I really need a cigarette after all this shit. I'm just gonna have to wait. There is no way I'm going outside.

As I'm sitting there I hear movement in the cabin. Oh you've got to be kidding me. Before I even realize what has happened I'm sitting in the corner of the room on the cooler with a broom in my hand. I didn't even know we had a damn broom in here but my subconscious mind must have registered the fact at some point thinking that I might need it for survival. I look where the noise is coming from. It's the top bunk above Luxor's stuff. Right where Rowan had put her dresses to hang......AND THEN ONE OF THEM MOVES.....and there's a Cujo ass scurrying around the top bunk!!!! I'm clutching onto the broom and screaming I don't even know what to that fucker and I think he went out the window. For the life of me I can't figure out how he got up to the window sill. There's nothing there for him to climb on. I'm so freaked out but I think he went back out. But what if he didn't? Or what if there are more in here? What if it's a fucking Cujo family reunion and I was supposed to bring the food? Why did I ever think that thing was cute? It's like all my relationships.....they always seem so harmless and when they turn ugly I think I'm the one that can change them, only to find out I'm supporting his ass and his relatives and they won't go away either. Now I can't close the window because I might be cutting off their only way out and they will then turn on me with their big ugly teeth and rabid eyes. So I wait.....and I try to calm down.....and I try to think rationally (okay)....and I try to conjure up my sisters. After a while it's quiet in the cabin and I don't hear any scurrying noises so I climb into my bottom bunk and hunker down to wait it out.....with the broom.

Next thing I know my sister Raven shows up. My hero!!! Nobody will fuck with Raven. She's kickass. I bounce out of bed and thrust the broom at her. "Here! I'm not doing it anymore. You make them go away!" But wait. Raven is looking a bit unsure. What the hell? "Let's get Ladybug. She just went back to her cabin." I might mention here that Ladybug is our PREGNANT sister, and she shouldn't be fighting off rabid animals in her condition. But I'm like..."Good idea." Anything, as long as it's not me anymore. Then Manea comes in. She thinks this shit is cute. SHE wasn't the one protecting the cabin from beasts. As she's reaching for something she makes a rattling sound with her plastic bag she's holding. Before I can hold up the broom in a defensive mode and back out of the door Raven has grabbed her purse and is beating me to it! We think this is hilarious but I'm still screaming for Ladybug from my cabin to hers. We meet her halfway and she's in a skirt and topless. We explain the situation. "No problem. I'm not afraid, but let me get a shirt on first." We didn't stop to think how funny this was at the time but she later told us she wanted to protect her nipples. I'm not sure where she gets her clothes but mine can be munched through pretty easy. Maybe I wouldn't have been so scared if I had nipple protectors. So she clothes her nips and storms into our cabin. She makes sure there aren't any unwanted guests still in the room and then closes the window. I love that woman.

So as everyone came trickling in from the ritual we got to tell and retell this story over and over again and every time we did it just got more and more funny. I'm willing to be the butt of a joke over this. I don't care because I survived it! But seriously, if anyone wants to hear the funniest version ask Rabbit to tell it. And make sure she puts in the part about the "logic of the moment" when Ladybug went to get her shirt. Still makes me want to tinkle. But I have to mention that Cujo came back later that night when I was outside with Heaven. She told him to go away and he did. He never listened to me like that. The next morning I walk outside....towards the bathroom for my morning pee....and where I was sitting the night before.....on the chair....are muddy little handprints. He was taunting me. It's true. I showed them to Heaven so I had a witness.

By the power of three

I have so many things to write about and so little time. I really want to put down all of the magical events that I went through this weekend but I've chosen to write about what is happening to me right now.
As our weekend came to a close my sisters and I stopped at the beach as a way to thank the Great Mother and to end our experience in our own way. While there we formed a circle and praised each other for our deeds, but especially for who we are and not what we had done. As our time drew to an end our Mama Rabbit said that she felt that in three days time the power of what we had gone through would hit us fully. Tomorrow will be day three. I don't know if I'm ready for it.
Since as long as I can remember I have often had a reoccuring dream. What is often the case, I just figured it was one of those things that just happen to everyone, until I came into an understanding as a witch that these things are magical and should never be taken lightly. My dream that I have is always the same theme but depending on my current life situation the emotions can change. I am always near the ocean or sea and I belong there. I'm familiar with the people and the surroundings. There are houses that I can only describe as the one's simular to the Native American adobe cliff houses, But the historical significance and location are something that I don't know yet. And then there's the water. A tsunami is coming and it's a knowledge that there is absolutely nothing we can do about it. There is no way to save ourselves and no way to escape what is going to happen so we are all remaining where we are and accepting our fate. In some of the dreams there is a feeling of sadness or horror that my people will die like this and sometimes I'm at peace and sit at the waters edge waiting for the wave. AND THERE IS ALWAYS A WAVE!!! A big bitch that is coming straight at us. She is so large that the sky will start to darken and turn that really awesome shade of steely blue. Sometimes I stay in the dream long enough for the wave to actually come over my head and other times I escape into a dream that has nothing to do with my tsunami dream.
So, okay, yesterday was the first full day of my being home from the gathering. I pretty much expected that this old bag of bones would require some recoup time, which it did. I spent as little energy as I could actually moving my body and tried to get into touch with what parts would need further comfort. I had this whole body tingle thing going on, almost like I feel when I'm first given anesthesia but not yet asleep. Because of the gentle urgings of Rabbit I have read The Oracle, which is about the Priestess of Delphi and I know that she inhaled the sweet purfume of the Goddess before any type of prophetic workings. What she was inhaling was actually a natural gas that later was used as an anesthetic. So I took this tingle thing as a sign and closed my eyes, asking over and over as a mantra what I was supposed to know. Low and behold I fell asleep and had my tsunami dream. When I woke up I was disoriented and clumsy and had a big whopping headache. Getting dinner for me and Dakota was a chore because I'm not really sure I was even in a position to be driving, but mother's are mothers and their children need food.
Today I was feeling a bit better. My body protested less and I woke up earlier than I usually do. Around 3pm, like yesterday, I became so tired that I couldn't fight the pull of sleep. Again, the tsunami dream. This time all was very intense. The wind was brutal and it was hard to hold myself upright. My entire Amazon Priestess group was there with me and we were all laughing and singing and basically doing exactly what we were doing on the beach Sunday. I have never before seen anyone that I know or recognize in my dream. And this wave was coming. And she was a monster of a wave. So large that she eclipsed the sun but there we were, singing and hugging and smiling at each other.
When I woke up I felt like I was still under water. The tingle thing was rushing all throughout my body and at first I thought I was having a low bloodsugar. I fought the numb feeling in my body to get to my glucometer but my sugars were normal. It's been over an hour now since I awoke but I'm still in that state where I'm not really here. I keep having to read what I've typed so I don't repeat myself and if I have, well, we all just have to get over that. lol. I've made myself some tea and I'm eatting a pear, which I think is a fruit from the Goddess. Not only does it taste oh so sweet, but it's kinda shaped just like my body is right now.
My fear, and it's a big one right now, is that if Rabbit thinks that what is happening will only get stronger by tomorrow then I don't honestly know if I can survive this. I know that I'm good with words and all that yadda yadda crap, but I know with all certainty that I am NOT getting the magnitude of what I am feeling across here. It's huge. It's powerfull. And I still don't know what the hell it means! Or what I'm supposed to be getting out of this. It seems like things are becoming clearer for others that went through this experience with me. So why am I a big bundle of tingle goo that doesn't have any physical energy to do mundane things and I keep falling asleep?
Oh, and tomorrow my husband doesn't work and will most likely be around while I'm experiencing day three. He's definitly going to have a cup of "What the fuck." if I have some kind of power surge or something. Good thing he loves me anyway!

Mothering

I feel that being a mother is the hardest job in the world. It's a commitment that will never go away and lasts well beyond the 18 years that people assume is our cutoff from responsibility. A mother experiences everything their child goes through, be it hurt, joy, exploration of life around them, or just plain being a kid.
In my life, as I write, I am experiencing one of those horrible moments where I realize that my son is growing older and farther away from me. He and I are so different now that he has become a teen. When he was younger it was just me and him against the world. Best friends having a good time. If we were broke I made a game out of it as best I could. If things were cushy then we went out and explored aquariums and museums....that sort of thing. I was in a coven in Indiana when he was young and he would come along to meetings and rituals with me and usually end up playing computer games while the women did their thing. He even went to a pagan store with a friend of mine and picked out a wand for me for Mothers Day one year. It's the one I still use today.
All of this has changed and he is pulling away. It's more important for him not to be different from his friends than it is for my feelings to get hurt. And that's just not fucking fair. I am reminded time and again by my husband that this is all a part of him being a teenager. I did the same thing to my mother when I was his age. Knowing this and accepting it are two different things. And I don't like it.
I have a lot of health issues and sometimes they get in the way of doing things that "normal" mothers do. Sometimes I think my being sick is another reason that he has pulled away. He has seen several ambulances come to our house to save my life. One time I was taken to the emergency room while in Indiana and he was telling the doctors jokes. His way of dealing with a ragdoll mother laying on the gurney, I suppose, but it amazed me that he could be so detached. Most of the time when there is a medical emergency at our house, like a severe low bloodsugar where I require assistance he is all business and gets me back to safety. There is nothing that I can do about these episodes. It's just a part of my life.
Tonight I had an even bigger shocker. He brought home information about his football teams bbq that starts off the season which is next Saterday. He asked me if I wanted to go and I said yes because they are having a scrimmage beforehand and watching him play makes me proud. He then proceeded to tell me all of the reason why I wouldn't enjoy myself and how boring it was going to be. He wants to ride his bike and go alone. After a while he finally relented to me the reason why he didn't want me to go. He doesn't want his friends and their parents to know that I'm a freak. How is a Mother supposed to take this?
I have conceeded to his point and agreed that I would dye my hair black or some other dull color during the football season. I hate this for many reasons. Why does it have to bother him so much that I'm not conventional? Where did my fun loving little boy go? How do I make him see that it's sooo fucking important to walk your own walk and screw the one's who don't have to courage to be themselves? AHH!!!!
I pray I pray I pray that the Goddess will someday shed light on my son's narrow views of the world. I spent years doing the best that I could and it just hasn't worked out. May he grow up and fall in love with a Goddess worshipping DIANIC priestess who will teach him in her own loving way that it just doesn't matter what others think. I am having a hard time not letting him keep his free will. I am not going to do any spells to make him see. I have to focus on myself and my love for him and my acceptance of his feelings. But I really want to call him a little fucker and pin him down until he agree's with me. Am I sick or what?

The Fire Within

Once, long ago, there was a girl who did not fit in anywhere. This didn't seem to bother the girl because she had her books, she had her animals, and she had her words. Unable to communicate her feeling to others she turned inward to search deep within herself to see what she was made of. Her answer was.....words. Lots and lots of words. Tangled, gnarled, twisting streams of words ran through her, over her, and below her. Sometimes she was able to take these words and write beautiful poetry, short stories, and letters she could never send, so fearful was she that she would be rejected, abused, and mistreated. She lost herself in books and writing.
When this girl was in her teen years the trust of her mother was smashed. Her mother had gotten ahold of her writings. Deep, intimate, spiritual, frightening writings that had been hidden from others so as not to be judged. What happened as a result of this was her mother submitted some of her writings to the school of performing arts in her hometown. She was accepted. She did not feel accepted and sharing her writing was so painfull that she sabotaged her education and left the school on very bad terms.
Many things happened over the years to this girl and she soon became a woman. A marrage that failed, a son who mattered more to her than even her words, moves to strange places, different schools and different jobs, finding the man who is her soulmate. She then experienced a pain that no man or woman should ever feel. She lost faith, became ill, and anger at the Goddess was replaced by abandonment. She left her Goddess and waited to die.
This girl, who is now a woman, has once again found the love of the Goddess, has found the love of sisters of the craft, and has found the love of words again. They burn in her soul, they swim in her head, and they resonate in her most powerful abdomen. She does her priesstess work, she goes to full moon circles, she talks on the phone and spends time with the women in her life. As she does so she is sometimes distracted by her words and can't wait to get them down in her Book of Shadows. Inspiration comes from her life now. Love is in her life now. Magic is in her life now. She is no longer afraid to show her words to others. She is saying" I am here and this is me" She makes no apologies for her words anymore. They come as they come. And they are good.
She has six months until she is ordained as a High Priestess in the Dianic Tradition and during the next six months she is working on the words that she will present to her sister witches and her High Priestess. And what is in her soul will be gifted to them......in perfect love and perfect trust.

Enter Stage Left....Kismet

Six months ago I was a very sick woman. It's hard to describe to a healthy person what it's like to be convinced that you are dying. Not only that, but I had gotten to the point where I decided that if this was to be my life then I didn't want it to go on much longer. No, I did not contemplate suicide. I was just ready to give up. By a cosmic alliance greater than any I have encountered I happened apon the CAYA coven, sweetly nestled in Berkeley CA and the bay area in general. I still can't get all the facts straight, but before I knew it I was being driven to The Sacred Well by my husband. I was still too ill to drive and even my husband (a christian) knew that I was desperate for contact with likeminded women. I was to meet Rabbit.
And there I was, sitting across from a Force. She saw into me and heard my dialog with Skuld, the third Fate, who hold the scissors that cuts you from this life and sends you back into the cauldron of ancestors to wait for a new body. I was there to talk with her and decide if I was a proper fit in her new Dianic Initiate group. There I was, searching, reaching for help. I needed the Goddess back in my life, I needed help. I was told later by Rabbit that she knew where I was without me even having to tell her. She felt, at the time of our first meeting, that if these were my last days in this life that Dianic training would help me transition. (I'm paraphrasing and hoping I'm doing it right!)
And that's how my life began again. Since going through my initiation ceremony (and seeing Z Budapest!) and joining my fellow witch sisters on this path, my health has been improving in unexpected ways. The medical profession has done little to make me this way. It has ALL come from my work, the love and support of my sisters, the sometimes not so gentle urgings of the Goddess, and the amazing love, light, power, inspiration, guidance, history changing ways of my HP, and did I mention love? Wow, unconditional love that I've only ever experienced from animals, is now being showered over me by the most powerfull group of women that I have ever known.
We are the future. We are the now. We can make changes and we are starting already....even before our year and a day is up. Take charge, kick ass and have someone else take the names because we are too busy changing how our childrens childrens children will look back and be so proud of how we defeated patriarchy with our love and our words and our actions. Not with guns and war. Not by harming our enemies, but by teaching them how to love.
Goddess bless