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Warning: Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear…I’ve often chuckled at that statement.  I’m like duh…its a mirror, reflections are often larger so appear closer.  And yet we often take peek into that rear view of things that are either behind or or perhaps worse, gaining on us.  It was with these thought that I closed my eyes last night and awoke with a start, stumbling  in the dark in a very familiar place.  Ow!  Damn it…just where the hell did that chair come from? “Perhaps if you would stand still and stop flailing around like a bull in a china shop, you would not injure yourself” came a familiar acerbic voice.  George, I thought, looking around.  Magically the fire began going, the sweet smell of herbs wafting against me gently.  I was at maman’s, but I did not come by boat, nor do I remember the trip.  You “appparated” to coin a new age term laughed George. Okay this was confusing..did I just think myself here?  “So to speak” again replied George.  “Come Cher”,said Maman Celeste, “there is much to speak on”.  As I drew closer to the fire, I saw she was not alone…someone was with her.As he turned around, I recognized him instantly even though I had never seen him before..Baron Semedi.  “Allow me to properly introduce myself”, says Baron.  “I feel we are old friends although never having met face to face”.  He held out his hand, “I am Baron Samedi.  pleased to meet you Shae.”  As I took his hand, I was engulfed in such a warmth…the kind of heat one is introduced to when you eat way too many hot peppers.  It was almost too much to bear.  “It will pass”, Baron says gently.  Quickly as it came, the heat moves to a tolerable level and I am left with the the lingering warmth flowing through me.  “You are not afraid” says Baron.  I’m not sure if I should be or not I tell him.  I’ve hear others speak that you are to be feared .  I demand respect, not fear.  Those who fear me are children who know little.  “Are you going to listen to other’s ghost stories”, he asked?  They seem plausible I said.  “Don’t be ridiculous”, he says cuttingly, holding my hand a little more tightly.  At this, Maman, George and the hell hound all look up quickly.  I had forgotten that he still held my hand, I thought as I looked at it, and again felt the same heat as before.  Maman still looked at Baron, who smiled and said “I am not going to hurt her, relax”.  Again the heat subsided, and Baron took my hand and turned it over looking at the sigil that is still present.  “Do you know what this is”. he asked? My person sigil I replied. ” What does the spiral represent to you?”, he questioned.  It is a labyrinth, a path that I walk ordering my steps.  “Do you know what the cross is”?  It is the crossroads I tell him.  “Why is it connected into the spiral?” he asked.  I do not know I reply truthfully, although to be honest after the last time I told him that  it was a little unnerving.  He laughed. “Ma petite, it is acceptable that you do not know.  The spiral is connected to the crossroads because you have always been connected.  It is not a coincidence that you came back to this time and place in this time of the year.  You are child of ghede, a foot in both planes.  You speak to ancestors as you speak with myself, Celeste, even George without fear and with direct honesty.We have always been acquainted, perhaps not on a personal level as now but Brigitte has always protected your home, provided you with Brin who walks with you daily, and the others who provide you with sanctuary.  You are connected, always have been, always will be”.  And the elements, I say speaking of the other part of the sigil.  “Those are every day things,” he says dismissingly.  “if you walk a physical plane, one will always have the elements in one’s life”.  So…I say…what’s it for?  Baron laughs…”you will see in time.  For now, let’s just say its a reminder of who you are, have been and will be”.  “Now I must leave you Mon Cher.  But we will speak again.”  With that, he released my hand and kissed my cheek and was gone.  I kind of felt bereft as I turned to Maman Celeste who was busy at the fire fixing me a drink.  The warmth that I felt as Baron held my hand, was similar in kind to having found that sweet spot in your bed where its nice and comfy and warm, only to have someone pull all the covers off.  “Come child”, says Maman, handing me a drink.  “This will warm your ones”.  I was starting to shake a little, thinking how odd that I should feel this cold.  Maman laughed…”ghede always leaves a chill…its just their way”.  As I drank the coffee she gave me, I could taste chocolate, a little cinnamon and wait..maybe a little rum?  I looked at maman questioninly…She said…”you’re getting pretty good at sniffing out the ingredients, Cher”.  As I drank the hot drink, I soon began to feel more comfortable, almost human I thought to myself..What an odd thought..It’s not like I was the dead.  “No” said George…”just hang out with them”.  I laughed.  I do like cemeteries, I like speaking with the ones who reside within.  Soon my eyes seemed to want to close of their own accord.  “Sleep child”, said Maman.  “Brin will take you home”.  I could feel Brin’s arms enclose me next to her body.  Feel her heart beat beneath my ear.  It was a comforting sound, almost like I was a child again, being held close in safety.  All too soon a jarring sound awoke me…the damn alarm..a call to the real mundane and all that encompasses.  I could still smell remnants of Maman’s herbs and moss fire..wait..I was awake wasn’t I?  I looked over at the alarm..yeah who would dream that sound up?  The princess snuggled  closer to me, from where she had crawled into my bed last night.  I smiled, covered her and put my feet on the floor.  Looking at my hand, I still see the sigil, only this time I feel the warmth of holding hands with Baron last night,.  I touch my cheek where he had kissed me good by.  This is going to be an interesting journey I think to myself.  Let the dance begin.

 

PEACE OUT

 

There are lessons to be learned all around us.  I’ve always believed this.  The universe does not trifle with coincidences.  So how do we know what lesson is for us?  I am a firm believer in that still small voice that speaks to us on a regular basis that tells us that what was said or done is an outrage and we are to speak up boldly, or that we are to be more proactive in protecting ourselves or those we love because someone without regard to the value of life will cause them harm.  Kind of reminds me of the movie Pinocchio and Jiminy Cricket as the conscience, guiding and trying to shape the puppet into a little boy.  So too is that small voice within us guiding, shaping and forming us into a human being of quality.  I see people all over both online as well as out in the mundane world who are constantly seeking first this way then that, looking for that place that feels like sanctuary for them.  The problem is that they get taken in by ne’er do wells who are out to make a profit from their innocence and willingness to swallow whatever ilk they throw their way.  Then there are those who hear the voice and yet are afraid to speak out, to reach out for what is their because of some unnamed fear that resides within.  To those I have to say, that fear is a healthy thing, it helps with self-preservation.  BUT, if we allow fear to paralyze us into not moving forward, then it defeats the purpose the universe had in mind for us.  And if we are pulled in a direction that feels right to us, then how are we to receive those gifts if we do not walk out onto the ledge?  We have to decide to listen or not…to move forward or walk away and perhaps be filled with the regret of “what if” and “what could have been”.  Life is a challenge, meant to be lived to the fullest as the gift that it is, filled with uncertainties, disappointments and yes, sometimes fear of the unknown.  But we cannot sit on the bank and watch the river flow past without at least getting our feet wet.  I am not content to wade in the shallows, I am out in the middle, neck deep, feet planted firmly as the current flows around me.  Waiting for that next perfect wave to push me further downstream until I can slide in sideways and reflect back on what a hell of a ride that was.  I cannot allow myself to be afraid at every turn of the river, every bend of the trees above me thinking of things that could happen.  My inner spirit tells me I am where I need to be, walking with those who would guide me, shaking my head at those who want to scatter themselves like children picking the candy up off the ground that has been tossed like they’ve just experienced Mardi Gras.  .  They want others to write down step by step what they are to do, what tools to use, what words to say…Non, mesi..they can have it…that would be too much like sitting on a pew somewhere reciting dogma and that is so not for me.  Learn to trust that inner voice.  Listen  to it.  it will never guide you astray.  Its only when we second guess ourselves that things often go awry.  Listen to your guides..they too have your best interests at heart.  And don’t let your fears hold you back…you are the only thing standing in your way.  Be bold, be courageous and above all else, be true to who you are and are destined to become.

 

 

PEACE OUT

So…here we are again on a cool first day of fall and the time of year I love the most is marred because of asshats with no real grasp of respect for humanity.  See, I don’t get the need that some people have to always be right, to know all there is to know on a subject and display said “knowledge” and either imply or say outright that others are stupid for not seeing things their way.  I don’t know what kind of manners their mama raised them with, but that is just unacceptable to me.  Someone is allowed to have a different opinion without having to be castigated over it or deemed to be irreparably damaged in their side of the brain that handles the intelligence quotient.  It does not allow someone, however facetiously they may claim to have been, drag that person through the mud and slur them on lack of knowledge.  Or their perception of someone’s knowledge.  My feel is that we all sit at the table of humanity, and all have something valid to offer.  Some are just the appetizers, a  little fluffy, not something to fill up on..couple bites, move on.  Others are the salads and soups, they offer a little more knowledge and can fill you up if you choose to do so, but then you miss out on the whole gastronomical experience.  So then you come to the main course.  It doesn’t matter how many there are…suffice it to say that its filling, nourishing and well thought out.  Those are the kind of people to incorporate into your life.  They feed your soul, spirit and mind.  Then of course you have desert.. there are those who can be so sweet it sets ones teeth on edge, but  perhaps like myself, you enjoy a  little fruit and cheese with the wine and those type of people are enjoyable with their warmth and effervescence that it makes the sometimes long journey of the meal seem worth it.  The fact is..all have something to offer in the way of nourishment..some more than others.  But we all participate and as such should be offered a modicum of respect.  Then there are the other various people who help the meal, as it were ,move along. They  provide  a place to gather, serve topics, keep out the riff raff(those who would cause problems), and sometimes they are caught in the middle of all the debate and mayhem that ensues.  It’s not their fault.  Some people just do not know how to have intelligent discussion without lowering themselves into the gutter and belittling others.  I’m hoping their parents taught them respect and humility, but one never can be too sure these days.  Sometimes its a “I’m not face to face with you so I can say or do anything I want without retribution”…I’m chuckling here because in many cases that may be true, but never piss off someone who practices or it could be unhealthy, depending upon how mad they get. One never knows what kind of ethics they may or may not have.    But why would one not want to be respectful to others online or otherwise?  Do they not want to walk in a more positive frame or  is it that they like carrying around all those bricks in their pocket?  I’m not curious enough to look…because while at first I might get  a little ticked, it’s almost humorous for me now because unlike some…I look both ways before I cross the street.  Sometimes a bus comes right out of the blue and one would not want to be tossed under it because of some “stupid” remark.  So the next time you sit down to the table, take the time to give thanks for what you are about to receive, and listen without engaging your mouth.  The brain works better that way, trust me.  It will also do more for the digestion of knowledge, and might even help you stay healthier in the long run.

 

PEACE OUT

I prefer truth.  My friends know this, I give it, demand it in return(even if it isnt what I want to hear).  But how honest is honest?  Do we tell our friends that we hate the dress they are wearing, that it makes them look old, fat whatever…when they seem excited about their “perfect find”.  Is there a tactful way to tell them?  Maybe. But is that really honest?  There’s been discussion on various topics that can get a little dicey sometimes, so where does one draw the line of being brutally honest without regard to others feeling in the “it’s truth”.  Sometimes I don’t give a damn..I wont be tactful with the truth..its just gonna come straight and lay you open…truth has to do that once in awhile.  It makes us let all the poison from the lies we feed ourselves and allow others to push down our throats to seep and flow out of our pores, cleansing us, cauterizing that wound and then making us whole.  Other times, I try and find a way to gently explain the truth to  one who is wounded already by the circumstances.  I don’t want to be the wind that deals the final blow to their straw house.  So when we tear down that house when someone is fragile in the name of honesty, are we being true to what is demanded of us?  We are human beings, given gifts to be used in the helping of others,,and our words can hurt or heal as much as what we do in our workings.  So how to draw the line…I tell people I am as I am…same online as off.  I can give you names of people who have either known me online for several years or know me in persona and they will back that up.  My sarcasm and smart ass mouth..yeah its a natural defense..and I often use it to tell the truth when its taken as a joke by others.  Less offensive that way I guess, but I am dead serious,lol.   I am less likely to say everything I feel with family..there are dynamics there that can cause a hell of a lot of drama and I don’t have time for that.    I’m not lying exactly, just walking a fine line between all out war and destruction of whatever is going on at the time.  I appreciate honesty, but not to the point that we degrade, demean others.  I guess that is why I try for tact most days..am not always successful, but hey I do remind people I am human and damn sure not perfect.  I don’t even come close to wearing that hat.  So is honesty knocking people off their feet?  Is it lifting them up and making them feel important?  I guess it can be both of those extremes, but I prefer a balance,  somewhere in between that speaks truth and yet leaves the other person with dignity.  I don’t pretend I know what others feel in their walk…as a reader of energies, I get a glimpse, but I don’t live their life.  So on those days when I speak something to you and you’re not crazy about how it was spoken..call me on it if you want..we’ll discuss it like adults, and see if we cant find a happy medium.  I’m a bitchy witch sometimes, and it may have come out a little harsher than I may have intended.  But it was true however it sounded ~shrugs~…and that one cannot fault me on.

 

PEACE OUT

 

Source..sometimes when I hear the word in reference to someone’s path it makes me chuckle because I am reminded of the show Charmed where they speak of “the source” in reference to the beginning of all that is evil that they fought with ..control of the demons.  Yeah I know, its Hollyweird, but even they can take glimmers of what is and make it entertaining.  So it got me thinking about how other feel about the source of their paths.  In the pagan world that can be many things..can be heritage, education, UPG(unverified personal gnosis), others choose doctrine or dogma to validate their faith in source.  Some even pull in race.  Are these all valid?  Depends on whom ones asks I guess.  It works for them so would appear so.  I guess the only one that I have trouble wrapping my head around is race being one of the major components of ones faith.  I know that in some practices of voudo, it plays a big part.  I know that  many Haitians feel this, but there’s is not the only voudo practiced, and I have yet to see a Loa who chose someone say..”nope, sorry you aren’t black enough” .  Maybe its a knee jerk reaction on my part about the race thing.  Living in the south I have been exposed to all sorts of hatred on both sides.  I remember when my dad was in Korea, and we lived here in Mississippi and the courts decreed “desegregation works”…All the adults seemed to have lost their minds.  In a military world, living on bases, the kids played with one another, made friends across racial lines, so to sit in a small town in Ms and experience this was extremely scary.  I was only 9 at the time and remember that things got ugly.  My aunt came to get us out  of school, and I went to find my then 5 yr old sister and get her off the bus.  Not 10 minutes later, I saw that same bus being rocked by crazed adults with children inside! Never mind that they were black..they were children. I could not believe that adults would act in such a manner, it had not been part of my life until then, and other than my own personal experience had not seen adults perpetuate violence on others children just because of skin color.  I knew then as now that race is irrelevant because we are ONE race..HUMAN.  I remember going up the hill to my Gran’s house and talking it over with her,  She fixed me lunch and we spoke of how mean humans can be to one another when they feel their status quo is being threatened.  I think she did more to calm me and explain things than anyone I encountered that day.  Schools got closed indefinitely, so I was out for about 6 weeks until my dad got home and we left for Oklahoma…Back to the “normalcy” of military life.  But it made me look at things differently, coloring my perception of the world.  So I guess that explains somewhat how I feel when one stands and in their arrogance decrees that one cannot practice a certain faith because they either weren’t born into it or of a certain race.  It to me is similar to the crazed adults of my childhood..elitist, arrogant , prejudicial and racist.  It’s a way to jealously guard their “territory”.  But god reaches everyone..no matter what path you encounter him on right?  I’ve always been instructed that is how it works.  We all have history,, heritage and we come from things differently, but to try and limit the gods….that is act of futility.  For when one tries to do so, they will show you just how human you are and bring you to your knees..  lesson learned.

 

PEACE OUT

I’m traveling..on my own this time…. why am I here without being summoned?  I pull the small boat up near the steps and walk to the porch.  Maman Celeste opens the door…”Come on in Cher, you’ve journeyed long”.  I walk in to the small hut, smiling, for Maman looks like an exotic bird taken from the rainforest and set down into the swamp.  She wears a colorful dress, her cinnamon colored skin is perfumed by the herbs she works with.  Her black hair curls around her face…She looks timeless.   I am pleased to see her.  The flames from the  fire fill me with warmth,  chasing the chill from my bones.  The huge cauldron is bubbling as usual, herbs above the mantle give off their woodsy scent…   But something is missing….the dog..yeah, where is he?  Jacques is tracking says Maman…I don’t even want to know who or what..that hellhound makes me nervous with his deep knowing as he looks into ones eyes.  Maman gives me some of her special tea..it instantly revives me and I tell her I really need this recipe which makes her laugh.  You did well traveling alone she tells me.  Why did I do that, I wonder?  I usually only come when summoned when she needs to tell me things..why would I come alone on such a long journey.  Then I spy familiar eyes out her back window…George…He followed at a distance Maman tells me..it was your first time doing so and he wanted to make sure you were all right.  He will also follow you back…just to be sure.  I nod.  You did well George tells me, then settles down  for a nap so that Maman and I can talk..  “You have done well with your learning Cher”, she tells me.  Last time you were here you needed an answer, now you have them and have put them into action.  So why the need to travel I ask her?  Instead of direct answer, I get observations…You have become a master weaver of webs she tells me.  Iridescent and strong…it keeps out those who would come check you out.  There have been a few I admit.  Most of those were just curious about you..your energy is strong and your knowledge comes through when you speak.  I don’t know near enough I tell her.  But you’re still learning she tells me…nobody knows it all.  “Tell me where you feel most comfortable, Cher”, Maman asks…Well here of course, and  in the small glade with Brin and by  the water in the cemetery at Shiloh.  “HA”! she cackles.  “For an air sign sweet girl, you sure love the water and are connected to the earth.  Baron’s call was a strong one hmm?”  I laugh.  I guess.  I had never considered it until recently.  Maman Brigit was always the one who I connected with.  “She still guides you Cher, but now you have need for the balance from Baron Samedi”..”It is time to listen and work”.  I nod and absently rock in the old wooden rocker as I think.  I gaze out the window and catch sight of a snake making her way along the rim of the porch roof.  She is beautiful, blues, greens…George stands, and shakes his finger(finger on a spider?)…and shakes his head gently.  The snake bows her head to him and moves on her way.  She was just checking to make sure I was all right I tell George.  I know he tells me…your friends are allowed on the perimeter, but not in the sanctuary proper…You can see and smell them, sometimes hear them, but they will not be allowed all the way in.  I nod in understanding.  “You have some good friends”, Maman tells me…”they check on you, care what happens to you…without asking you to give”.  “different than it used to be…you are learning to gather wisely.”  Well, I wouldn’t exactly say I gathered them..they sort of took me in.  But it works in my learning, and balance.  They are amazing people.    “Sleep child”, Maman tells me,,”soon it will be time for you to return home”.  I close my eyes.  when I awake, I feel refreshed and content.  “I have something for you to take back with you”, she says, and places a small talisman in my hand.  I hug her goodby and thank her for listening to me.  “You are always welcome here Cher”, maman tells me…”this is your home as well”.  I get back in the boat, and this time George piles in behind me.  I raise my eyebrows in question, and he shrugs..”you know I am going, so why not”, he says.  Why not indeed.  I awoke this morning with a smile on my face and this dream spinning around my brain.  I have thought about it several times throughout the day, .  The talisman?  I awoke with a sigil drawn upon my right hand!  I copied it carefully onto a paper because I don’t know how long the on on my hand will stay.  I will not tell what that sigil represents, but suffice it to say that it holds a great deal of promise for me.

 

PEACE OUT

Why do we hide from the world?  What is the purpose of that?  We wear a mask for this one, yet another for someone else.  Why do we do that?  Is it because we have been so ingrained with others perceptions that we are afraid to let the real “us” show through?  Do we believe all the lies that have been thrown at us so that we cannot allow ourselves the truth?  I still have moment of insecurity..yeah yeah, those who know me are like “really?” Yes..really. I keep it well hidden because its one of those control issue things.  Ya’ll know how it is with me.  I know others who want to do the same.  Revealing their warmth, their compassion for others can be construed as weakness.  I wonder if its the same for them..that we choose to keep things hidden out of fear, that if we allow others to see our truth that we somehow let them have power over us.  I know that it isnt true of course..people only have as much power as I choose to allow them, so why then the feeling that I need to hide things?  Maybe its a holdover from that scared child who managed to survive the abuse, or maybe its the rattling of old skeletons that cause me to pull back..I don’t really know for sure.  what I do know is that I am working on letting all that go.  Walking with my head held high, becoming who I am meant to be, and if others don’t like it, then so what?  It’s not like they live my life or anything.  Truthfully, some days when manic man is having issues, or I am stressed about what bill gets paid..I would be willing to let them do just that…but just as I am about to..I pull back because of that damn need to be in control.all.the. time…So..how to let go? I wish I knew all those answers.  I do know that as I meditate and find myself spiritually, it seems to help..the letting go of fear…As I speak with my guides and I immerse myself in study with others, I am not as fearful as I once was.  Not sure I will ever conquer all of it, but for now I am content to take small steps at letting go, and that is how life’s journey begins…putting one foot in front of another.

 

PEACE OUT

I have often been left shaking my head at how kids act and behave when out in public and out of sight of their parents sometimes.  Friday night , Brae and I were at the high school football game.  I live in small southern town, so prayer is a given before the start of every event..Usually given by a student representative, sometimes not, but I have never heard anyone object.  While christianity is not my path, I stand quietly and in respect of those around me.. So with heads bowed, Brae and I stand still until the prayer is given.  A group of young people on the ground below us are laughing and cutting up during this time, until one of their friends shushes them, and they lower the level of their merriment.  Then comes the playing of the national anthem.  Now I grew up in military home, so that for me…is almost religious in the respect its given…One stands still, places hand over heart and salutes the flag.  I show Brae how to do just that and she does it as do the people around us…all EXCEPT this same group of young people.  They laugh, shove one another all during the song..making me want to yell at them…”wtf is wrong with you”? “Did your parents NOT teach you any respect for those who died giving you the right to act as if you were dropped on your head”? “do you not have respect for yourselves or the people around you?” My five year old had enough courtesy to stand still even if she had no idea what the reasoning was for it.  It got me to thinking…did their parents not teach them about respect, patriotism?  I know that a lot of what passes for history taught today is not the same as I learned…and yet they have seen their share of things that this country has been through.  Wars on several fronts, attacks upon this country…and yet they can’t take the time to stand quietly during the playing of a simple song that holds so much meaning for a lot of people.  I know its hard to sing, difficult to play, and seems archaic…but the meaning that it symbolizes to those who have a connection to those who fought and died for this country, runs deep.  Many of us grew up hearing it played at every military function, as well as other military staples, and were taught that the flag is one of the most important symbols of our country because it is the first thing raised in every military post including those far away places in battle even if it may be there only temporarily.  I’m trying to do my part in showing my little people the need for respect , but it’s damned difficult when others seem to refuse to do the same.  If one cannot show respect for the flag of your country, for others saying a prayer,then how can one possibly expect them to be respectful for other human beings?

 

PEACE OUT

This weekend marks the 10th anniversary of one of the worst tragedies our country has ever experienced outside of war.  We all sat stunned in front of television sets, listened to radios, talked in whispers as we watched landmarks crumble in front of us, taking lives, shattering innocence, and reminding us that we are not invincible.  I was home that day, and sat like others, holding my oldest grandson, who was almost 2, in my lap needing his sweet innocence to balance out the destruction I saw being played out in real time in front of me.  Do you remember where you were? What you were doing?  It happens like that with tragedies, especially ones on a grand scale.  Who could have imagined that this great nation of ours would be sucker punched and left gasping for breath?  Not since WW II have we even considered that could be a possibility.  So we picked up the pieces, and got on with our lives, and yet as the anniversary of that infamous date rolls around..what did we learn?  Is anything we have done in the last 10 years done anything to strengthen us as a country, pulled us together, united us as a people, or honored those that lost their lives in a real way?  Sadly, I have to say that while there may be small glimmers of a nugget, as a whole the answer would be “NO”.  Families were devastated by loss, our country was set back on its heels with shock and dismay, and yet in the years since, we have arrogantly invaded other countries(Iraq had nothing to do with what happened on 9/11..just FYI)…and still treat each other with contempt if they don’t agree with our definition of societal norms.  So how would one give honor and respect or those who lost their lives? After reading the stories of those children who lost parents that day, I would say it is living well..being the person that parent hoped they would become.  That legacy speaks volumes.  Live life to the fullest, don’t let fear hold you back..don’t take those who love you for granted, because they may not be there later when you turn around to look.  We can make excuses for not doing so, but I’m sure that given the things that happened in this country, like the bombing of the Murray building in OKC, and 9/11, and the wars fought by so many brave men and women, those excuses would come up short and sound more than a little lame.  So this weekend, when one stops for a brief moment to say a silent prayer for those lost, those left behind to pick up the pieces, and those still on the front lines fighting for our rights to do so, resolve to reach out and live life…smell the roses, experience all it has to offer.  Don’t let fear sideline you and keep you from being all that you are destined to be.  Tell those you love, those you admire that you do so..don’t just assume that they know it.  Become a legacy of human compassion for your fellow man…start a new trend….be better than society claims you have to be.  And learn to love yourself when you come up short.  That for me is the ultimate remembrance.

 

PEACE OUT

When one thinks of crossroads, a dirt road crossing out in the middle of Bum fuck Egypt comes to mind for a lot of people.  It has been said that many come to the crossroads looking for fame and fortune.  one of those legends was Robert Johnson, legendary bluesman from Mississippi, who it was told that went to the crossroads near Dockery Plantation(near Cleveland, Ms in the delta), and met up with a large black man(aka devil) who tuned his guitar and allowed him to make the music he was famous for.  I don’t know what kind of deal ol’ Robert made, or if he really did although he claims to have done so… but in his lifetime, his recordings sold poorly, and he had no fame until after his short life was ended and other now famous guitarists began crediting him with being innovative enough that they too learned from him.  He exchanged his soul it has been said to develop the kind of blues that others now add to their repertoire. Various paths have entities, deities that rule the crossroad…Hekate,Papa Legba are but a few that come to mind.  So why the crossroad?  Many of us at one time or another come to a divide..a crossing either in our physical lives or spiritually.  Physical can be as simple as deciding where to live, marry or not, children or no, change jobs, stay….Spiritual can almost have us awash in the ocean and all it can entail.  Crossroads mean we make changes and decisions we would not normally do..asking guidance for those we might not otherwise speak to directly..and yet…there comes time when we have reached a place in our walk that seems to have no fresh air to breathe , and we have searched through our usual bag of tricks and seem to come up short.  So we gather ourselves and make the journey that will bring definite change into our life.  It is there that changes abound, surprises are around the curve just ahead and yet that chaos that ensues is necessary for us to continue to grow.  Others make change sometimes for the sake of change, and that baffles me, because I usually have to be dragged kicking and screaming to make the change..and its not too different this time ~smiles~…I think the guides have done everything but smack me upside the head to accept the fact that I have become too complacent, too content where I am and that I stopped moving forward.  So…here’s to change, moving forward and a freshness to step and lightness of spirit…SLAINTE’

 

PEACE OUT