Grinchy holidays

There was a time when I loved holidays.  The gathering of family, friends with no other place to go made Thanksgiving a day filled with too much food, tons of laughter, plenty to drink, football, games played. A day enjoyed by all in true southern style.  Christmas…the lights, candies, cookies, gifts to neighbors, friends, special things bought for family to see that smile of amazement come across their face.  That was a perfect day for me.
When did it change? I guess when the dynamics of family changed.  I lost my brother, then both parents.  Children moved off, their children scattered so that I don’t get to see them like I used to. It saddens me. Leaves me with feeling of depression, being unappreciated and just an all around scrooge.

But I’ve been paying attention to others as they too have their come apart about holidays and family, and have decided to suck it up, and make this season one about loving those that are around me. Watching the look on the face of a special child as she unwraps gifts she has specifically asked for. I don’t want my attitude about things to diminish another’s happiness in the day.  It’s unfair of me, and hurts people unnecessarily.  Even if I have to step back and just observe others from the periphery to preserve that for them, then I will do so.  It’s the least I can for others.

Now where did I put that rum?

Pardon my perception

It’s odd sometimes how we speak, write , lay things out in the open and then are taken aback by others perceptions of it. We are so used to just speaking(often before much thought) about situations or events that when someone says something about what we’ve spoken on..it gives us pause, in some cases may even take us aback.

Such has been the case this week for me. I’ve seen comments from some on particular aspects of a path I choose to work and they are so off base that when I made a statement on them, someone else has decided that apparently I am judgmental(aren’t we all at some point?). The omnipotent ruler of all that the path entails, or as one says “you know jack about this”.  Fine.  Their opinion I guess.  I do happen to know a little about some things, but I’ll sit back and watch with popcorn and rum while you hang your ass out in the wind. Makes me no difference other than it gripes me when I see people pushing shit as truth..but maybe there is a market for that and I haven’t caught onto the trend yet.

Then there are posts on dreams..MY dreams.  I had one ask if I “copied” the style from a friend . Nope, but I enjoy reading theirs. I’ve walked dreamscapes all of my life, as long as I could remember them and they have served to teach me well.  But recently I’ve reverted back to an old habit…the “I’m not good enough, they won’t like me.”..kind of thing..It pisses me off…at myself.  It makes me second guess what I say, how I interact with others. Why do I allow old triggers to take up space?  Maybe because there is so much going on with circus drama, stress of hell, that I forgot to check the lock on that baggage.  I don’t know..but it happened.  What triggered it?  Someone entered an area that they consider “my” space. It weirded them out.  What I heard was old garbage..it kept me awake all night trying to whip the old fears, tears, and anger and pain back into the cellar where I’ve had it buried.  Was I successful? Am I not here writing? All snark aside…I was semi successful.  I didnt explode, cry or whine..but I also didn’t speak about it to anyone that would have been helpful, so I still feel the nudges. Does this change things between me and the other person?  No..I don’t “own” the elsewhere, nor do I presume to set a boundary with NO Trespassing signs to warn others.  They will travel as they will and sometimes there will be overlap.  ~shrugs~.  I also cannot control how others will feel about their experiences.  For me, most of the time I enjoy being there more than in the mundane. My perception, feelings and triggers are mine…nobody else has to claim responsibility for them.  We’ve muddled through for a long time together.  One of these days I might learn to kick their ass to the curb for good, until then they stay locked in the cellar until they pick the lock.

The above perceptions are mine and mine alone.  Nobody else gets to claim responsibility or try and “help” me because truthfully, I’ve always fought alone with what threatens to push me off the precipice. I’ll work through shit, kick some ass and come out of the other side of the mirror stronger, standing yelling that I’m still here so if I’m to be taken down..they better bring their “A” game.  I believe I’ll go have some rum.

Bolster and Support

This dream-set is from the other day, but I hadn’t written it down because I wanted my friend to say something to me before I did.  She has, so now I write:
“SHAE!”.  I hear a voice calling me.  I look around but don’t see anyone, so continue to lay out the herbs for drying.  “SHAE!” The voice comes again. I put down my herbs.  “Brin”, I call.  “I have to go help her”.  Brin hands me my cloak and we set off in the direction of the sound.  It doesn’t take me long to travel the elsewhere.  I just locked onto the sound,and the scent of the one who called to me. Oh dear gods.  I am standing right on the doorstep of the boneyard.I have only come here once and was grudgingly allowed to do so, and am not sure of my reception now. “SHAE”! I am called once more.  The cry is asking me to come, and sounds so tired.  That’s it.  I go in..and whomever doesn’t like it be damned. As I enter, I see the hugest raven I have ever laid eyes on.  He looks as if I could be a tasty morsel, so I decide that the best approach would be to just speak to him.  “My friend has called for me and needs my help”, I tell him.  “If you could just point me in her direction, I will collect her and be on my way”.  He stares at me once more, then bends his head as if to give his consent.  Instead of pointing me the direction to go, he takes off in flight.  I watch until he looks back as if to say “well…come on then”. I waste no time in following him. We go past pyres of bones  that have been arranged. Some elaborately so, others done in a haphazard manner as if they were just stacked until another time for use.  I follow the raven to a secluded place in the boneyard, away from the other pyres.  I laugh to myself.  “Where else would such a one have her own personal corner?”, I think to myself.  I see my friend laid upon a pyre.  The bones lovingly laid in an intricate manner that resembles the stitches she herself creates.  But before I can step forward, I see HER. Ravenwoman.  “Damn”, I think.She turns as she catches a glimpse of me.  “I am fucked”, I tell myself.  Just then I hear my friend whimper in pain.  I can see that she is past the point of exhaustion. She needs rest.  Real rest.  Not some psuedo nap promised by someone that slides off into another view of the elsewhere.  She has to stop to allow herself to become reasonably whole.  Well, if I have to fight to help her I will.  I don’t want to, because it will obviously not be pretty, nor will it allow me to take care of my friend. I step forward and let my friend know that I am here.  She has been through much as I survey her damaged body with its bruises and cuts.  She is so tired that she cannot open her eyes to see my face.  “I am so tired”, she says.  “This is no place for you to rest , my sweet”, I tell her.  “Take my hand and I will take us somewhere to rest properly”.  She grabs my left hand and I pull her to stand beside me.  Placing my arm around her waist, I tell her”We are going to walk right out of here and be on our way”.  I think that was actually for us all.  First to reassure myself because to tell the truth, Ravenwoman scares the fuck out of me, secondly to let my friend know what we are doing, and last but certainly not least to tell Ravenwoman my plans.  Yeah I know..why allow an adversary know of such, but I’ve found that knowing or not knowing, they still find a way to try and fuck things up, so I just save us both time and give them a heads up.  I turn us towards the exit and Ravenwoman makes a move to stop us.  she tries to grab my friends hand when a cloud of black flies in between us.  Ravens.  Hundreds of them, like they are building a wall of feathers to keep the divide and allows us to move down the path to leave.  At the entrance is again the great big Raven.  I thank him for his assistance and bid him farewell, then we walk through the gate.  I call Brin from wherever she has secreted herself and she joins us.  “She is exhausted”, I tell her “and we need to find a secluded place for her to rest without others trying to come see about her”. Brin nods then picks up my friend since she is clearly too tired to walk, and we make our way to the dragons lair. I smile as I see the entrance.  It’s secluded and appears to be nothing more than mists hanging in the valley. But  NOBODY comes here without invitation. You either come with dragon guide or have a key.  I happen to have both, but this place is used sparingly by myself. Brin and I make our way to our private glen where there is a twig lean-to with a small fire burning for light in front of it. Brin places my friend down onto the pallet inside and prepares the fire for more heat and the making of tea.  I sit beside my friend and tell her to rest.  She is safe and secure and I will be here with her when she wakes.  She takes my hand, asks me to stay, so I lie beside her and stroke her hair to soothe away her pain.  Her strength amazes me at times, the things she sees, goes through.  I’d build her a pedestal for her heroics, but she’s just place my head on it,lol.  “You both should rest”, Brin breaks in on my silliness.  I agree, but ask her to tell us a story.  Pretty childish, but I’ve learned that even pushed to our limits, if the mind is focused elsewhere then we rest deeper.  Brin smiles and begins to tell of swamps, weavers, spiders and ravens.  “You aren’t going to dump me in the swamp are you”? asks my friend.  I laugh and tell her I might consider it if she interrupts the story again. She laughs as well, then closes her eyes and this time drifts off into a peaceful rest.  We rest …no clue how long since time is not relevant in the elsewhere, but it was enough time to recharge and feel more like ourselves.  I awake to see my friend drinking tea with Brin and giggling over some joke.  “Don’t mind me”, I say.  “I am just the witch with herbs to dry”.  “I’m sorry I interrupted you”, my friend begins.  I punch her lightly on the shoulder.  “Hush”, I tell her”you needed the help and I was able to give it.  End of discussion”.  I take my mug of tea from Brin and we sit and talk a bit, then clear the camp, washing the cups, dampening down the flame of the fire.  Brin leads us back to the entrance of the lair and I hug my friend good-by and tell her “Be careful on the way home..and I will talk to you later”.  She waves goodbye and Brin and I make our way back to the cabin and herbs.  I think of how badly things could have gone and shake my head.  I’ll have to find a special offering to the raven for his assist, but in the meantime, I think I’ve earned myself some rum(not that I ever deprive myself really).

Dealing with grief

Grief is grief even if its not over something tangible.  We still have to go through the steps of letting go, setting aside what was in order to get to the what will become.  

There are stages that one has to go through and I’ve listed them for those who may need to recognize them in the losses you may have had or are having in your life:

Shock and Denial:   It’s often hard to believe that what just happened really did.  Whether it’s an unexpected death, a job loss, loss of material possession or even violation of a sacred trust.  We often want so badly to deny this actually occurred, that it’s hard to wrap our minds around it, that it causes a great deal of pain.

 

Pain and Guilt:  After the shock wear off, we are hit with the pain.  It is often manifested into a physical one, causing the stress to make us ache, we become ill,unable to focus.  They physical emotional pain also cause problems and one can be tempted to dull that with an outside lubricant to coat it and make it more manageable with drugs or alcohol or even sleep.

 

Anger and Bargaining:  After some of the pain wears down to a manageable force, we become angry.  Angry at the situation, angry that others are walking around breathing when we are so bereft. Angry at even the person who left us. Angry even at ourselves.  How could we have allowed ourselves to become so involved that we are left feeling like this?  It can also resort to bargaining.  Asking the universe, god whomever has the power to change things, to bring them back, to let you go with them…Not happening of course, but its a valid emotion in us frail humans.

 

Depression, reflection, loneliness:  Just when you think life has come to an even keel…we begin reflecting.  Thinking about our lives, how it feels with the loss, the emptiness that is there since there is now a void. Don’t try and set this part aside.  Well-meaning people will tell you “suck it up” , and move on since life hasn’t stopped.  The thing is..this type of reflection is good for us.  It helps us evaluate where we are and how to move forward.  In the aftermath of when the loss occurred, things are usually in a whirlwind of movement and we haven’t had a chance to latch on to what our feelings actually are or how to deal with them.  You could become so grief stricken that you feel you cannot move forward, and center into a depressive state.  That is when its time to find someone to help you..Nobody said you had to deal with grief alone.  A trusted friend, family, even professional can be helpful.  For myself..I write.  It clears the storm from my head and heart and I can set it to private and later on when settled go back and see just how far I have come in my finding balance again.

Acceptance:  There is a lot of reconstructive work to go through to get to this place.  There is no time limit set.  Everyone has their own time frame.  Does it mean you will ever get over the loss?  Nope..what it does mean is that you can learn to accept that the loss is there and find a way to live life again, with happiness, love and meaning.

We’ve all experienced loss of one kind or another.  Those in the northeast have lost material things, family members, peace of mind.  they will have to move through these steps as they rebuild their lives.  It’s not an easy task, but can be done.  For me, the loss of trust, is one that is the most difficult.  Those who have held a sacred place within one’s inner core and callously violate it…that is a pain that is harder to deal with.  Physical pains heal, materials can be replaced, people who leave us will be remembered..but trust is hard to rebuild. It too, has to work its way through the stages of grief and allow us to become whole. I sometimes have to remember that like any other part of my life, time and moving through the process allows for the healing.  We all need that reminder from time to time.

 

 

OATHBREAKER

I was tied down for my own good recently, but this night I went to the crossroads.  As I sat under the bridge waiting for those who would come, I pulled my cloak around me.  I had a feeling tonight was going to be eventful and I wanted to be ready. First came a friend who had waited for me the night before, but due to my being unwell I had kind of stood her up.  We greet each other warmly and share a bottle of rum that I have with me.  We speak about conversations we had started in the waking and things we needed to say to one anther but had not found the time to do so. She takes her leave with a promise to hang out later and I sit and wait for one that I know is sure to come.  I don’t have long to wait.  I smell the cigar before he gets to where I am sitting.  “Under the bridge?” he asks amused.  “I’m practicing my troll thing”, I tell him with a most serious voice.  He throws his head back and laughs.  He stretches his legs out and leans back against the wall of dirt that makes the bern of the bridge and tells me that I have grown much since we first met.  No longer am I afraid of everyone and everything.  Well duh..it was all so new that I was a little freaked out to be doing the things I was doing or knowing whom I knew. He laughs again and then sobers as we drink.  “What do you know of oath breakers?” he asked.  “I know that they don’t deserve to suck air”, I tell him.  “To violate a trust given to one is almost one of the most unpardonable sins I can imagine.” One I will not tolerate. He nods. “And is there one in your midst?” I look up sharply.  He does not ask these things lightly. There is always a reason. “Apparently I do or you would not ask”, I say.  The cold that he usually keeps at bay as I sit with him begins to invade my bones.  “My apologies for cutting this short, but I have someone to go find”, I tell him.  “Quite alright Cher,” he says.  “We will speak again”. And with that he strides away.  I make my way to the road and set off, calling Brin to me.  We discuss whom within my circle would dare to be so stupid and piss me off by violating my trust.  We come up with a couple of candidates, and speak on how to rectify this situation.  As we walk, I see a light from a fire up ahead and something calls to me…that feeling of needing to see what is there. I ask Brin to secrete herself until I call for her and instantly she goes invisible.  I shake my head smiling.  I really wish I knew how she does that.  I hear a child’s voice crying.  “Please tell my Nana where I am”, it says.  “OMFD! That sweet voice belongs to the princess and whoever has her will pay dearly.  I step into the clearing.  “I am here Sweet Face”, I tell her. Sit tight and I will come to you.”.  She is sitting in the middle of a trail of honey that circles around her.  I see an army of ants that are approaching, and know that she is terrified. She doesn’t care much for bugs in the waking, so know that here in the elsewhere, she is afraid.  I pick up the leader of the ants gently and speak with him.  I tell him that the child belongs to me and that if he will allow me to remove her, then the honey will be left for them all.  He agrees, and I return him to his army.  They remain still. I walk closer to the princess and someone steps out.  It is the man with no feet.  “Are you not tired of getting your ass kicked”, I ask? He snorts and gestures to his missing feet. “I am still upright”, he says, “so obviously you aren’t doing too much good with your puny attempts”. I smile slightly.  “My mistake.  One that will NOT happen again”, I tell him. But first things first.  the child has to be removed or the ants will lose patience.  I call Brin to me and she appears.  The man with no feet’s eyes widen  and he yells.  “I told them you work with demons!  How else would you be able to stay out of the traps!  Evil bitch!  Stay away from me”! I shake my head and tell Brin to remove the baby and take her home.  She doesn’t want to leave me, but we hear movement in the bushes and George and the dog both appear.  I laugh.  “Were you hunting for us or something else?” I ask. “Something else”, he says.  I tell Brin that George and the dog will stay with me but she needs to take the princess home and remain with her to keep her safe.  She agrees and  I tell the princess that she will be going home.  I remove her and hold her close to warm her and put her into a sleep before handing her to Brin. They leave and I relax a bit because I know that no more harm will befall her.  As we move out away from the circle of honey, the ants claim their reward.  I then turn my attention to the man with no feet. I call upon my sword and advance softly.  I am one pissed witch.  George and the dog follow behind me.  The man with no feet tries to back up but has nowhere to go since there is a large tree behind him. I corner him and pin his arms and legs with the daggers that have materialized from thin air. I am going to make sure you do not bother me and mine ever again.  “If you spare my life, I will tell you who of your circle helped me”, he begins.  I stop.  As much as I would love to eviscerate him and dine upon his entrails, I am aware that if I do not stop the leak within my “house” others such as the princess will again be used as bait or worse. I howl in frustration.  “I want to kill your fucking ass and dance in your blood, feast upon your entrails and make trinkets of your skull”, I yell at him. “For fuck’s sake! You have no shame in using a scared child!” As I am yelling, daggers keep coming and hitting the tree making an outline of his body(I could become a circus act given this talent).  He keeps whining and begging.  Finally George puts his hand on my shoulder.  “I know you want to kill him cher, but you need to use him right now”, he says.  I look up at him with tears on my face. I do know he is right, but damn this cuts me in two.  “Fine”. I turn to the man with no feet who is still whining like the fucking asscricket he is and I ask him, “who was it”? He begins with a rambling answer and I place my sword at his throat.  “My patience is sorely limited so this had better be a direct answer, who is it”? Whether it was the sword held at his throat or the look on my face, he tells me the name. Fine..a person on the list, not so unexpected after all and proving that I do know those in my circle after all.  I am a little relieved.  I tell George and the dog to do what they will with the man with no feet, I have no use for him and I hear him yell after me as I move on farther in search of the oath breaker.  No matter..I care less what he says..he will be dealt with.  I find her. She sits on a log crying.  “Why do you cry”? I ask her. She looks up at me bruised and battered.  “He said he would not hurt her or you if I helped, but when she cried, I tried to help her and he slapped me around”. The coldness that surrounded me as I looked at her would have made one thing I was the ghede…there was nothing but contempt for her now.  She still speaks as a child.  “Why would you do this to me?  To the baby? For someone you don’t even fucking know”? I ask. “I just wanted your attention”, she whined.  “We don’t talk anymore and when we do, you’re usually telling me how ignorant I am for listening to others”. “Wait.  Let me get this straight.  You are feeling butthurt over my lack of coddling so you violated the trust between us and allowed someone who is nothing but a crap of shit to harm one that I would give my life for.  Does that about cover it?” She bows her head and whispers “I am sorry”.  “Yeah well sorry doesn’t even begin to come close to covering this shit …this time its gone too far.  I am breaking that bond between us and severing the ties. You will not have a moment’s peace..the dreams will not be filled with puppies and lollipops, they will have shiamats blood..things that will remind you that you are feast for the crows.  We are done.” Most would not think I would allow an oath breaker to survive, but this removal of self is sufficient until I can get past the anger.  I turn to return home and she whines yet again, “Aren’t you going to help me get home”? My rage is almost more than I can stand.  here she almost cost me a gift so dear and violated a trust that I held sacred and yet still has the audacity to ask no demand help? I take a few seconds to breathe deep and collect myself before turning. ” I am not helping you do shit, I say.  “What I can do is allow some light for you to find your own way back”.  With that, I wave my hands and light appear through the woods as if they are a garden path lit up by fairy lights.  “Go home”, I tell her tiredly. She gets to her feet and still crying, she makes her way following the lights.  I turn and make my way home.I find Brin has tucked the princess into bed and she is unharmed, if a little restless.  I remove my cloak and crawl into bed beside her, pulling her close to me.  We finish the night that way. Brin standing guard. What happened to the man with no feet?  I don’t know, don’t care.  I left that in George’s capable hands.  Whatever he decided is fine by me.
When we awoke this morning, the princess looked at me and asked if there were bugs.  I tell her no, they don’t come into our home.  She is relieved.  We spend part of the morning playing tea party and enjoying the laughter and time spent together.  Brin stands watch.  Never again will ANYONE be allowed close enough to use the child as a weapon.  It’s time to start taking care of shit I had let slide and those who question or disagree will fall by the wayside.  If they don’t, then they too will be dealt with. Today I am still pissed, so tread lightly.

 

tricks or treat

I opened the door and there he stood in all of his ash-ness.  Ghede. “May I help you?” I asked. He smiled and held open a bag.  “I have brought your costume M’lady” he answered.  Costume I thought?  The hell? “I wish to try out your treating” he says.  Light bulb clicks on..Okay..give me a minute and I will accompany you. So I go to change into the costume he has brought me..sort of a sexy antebellum with entirely too much lace and not enough coverage up top, but hey..not gonna argue with the dead. So we make our way down the street stopping at houses along the way to collect candy. At each house, after receiving his prize he looks to see what he got.  “What does one do with this”, he asked as he held up a Bit of Honey bar.  I smile.  “You eat it”. He starts to put it in his mouth and I stop him to tell him to remove the paper.  He does and I smile as I watch the look of pleasure come over his face.  “This is good” he says excitedly.  “I want some more”.  So we set off to the other house and at each one he hold the wrapper up and asks if they have any.  “I swear”, I think to myself.  “can’t take the dead anywhere”. As we finished with the last house and my friend’s bag was full of Bit of Honey’s, we enter a hall where there is a costume party already in progress. My friend and I take a seat where some others have already been seated and he speaks with them as I look around.  He shows them his lot, shares the candy which they all agree is this side of heaven and I shake my head in amusement.  “May I have this dance Cher”, says a familiar voice.  I look up and find The Rummer in all his finery holding out his hand to me.  I accept his hand and we make our way to the dance floor.  “A most fetching costume” he says.  “One I’m sure you had a hand in choosing” I replied smiling.  He feigned innocence(yeah right), but we both laughed and as we danced, he kept me entertained with various anecdotes about those dancing around us.  We spoke of the one who came to treat with me.  “Why him”, I asked.  “He wanted to meet you and see what its like to see things as a child does”. came the reply.  “He loves the Bit of Honey candy” I laughed.  “Think about why that is”.  I know that honey is used as a trap I say..then stop because I spy familiar eyes looking at me from behind a gold mask.  I may not have seen an actual face before, but I can certainly smell the stench.  My dance partner was watching this all unfold.  “Your face is very expressive cher”, he remarked.  “One can see the emotions flit one after another.  They tell quite a story”.  “Did you set this up”?  I ask quietly.  “Non, I allowed certain things to happen, but sometimes one can choose to confront things head on n’est pas?”I incline my head in agreement but say nothing.  “Let’s go get something to drink” he says.  We move to make our way to the refreshment tables when there he is.  The man with the gold mask.  “I’ve brought you something to drink Lovely Lady” he says with a mocking, leering grin on his face.  I take the glass from him and act as if I am going to drink from it.  I can tell from the smell that there is more than punch or alcohol within the confines of the glass and suddenly I can stand no more.  I toss the punch in his face and my sword is within my hand and I push his ass against the wall.  “Listen here you full of shit bogus motherfucker.  I am tired of the half assed attempt on myself and others.  I do not notice that the room has parted and that those who were dancing have stopped to watch.  My dance partner rests against a wall with a look of amusement on his face.  I continue with my tirade. “Your lack of respect for others outside your closed minds and fake assembly of faith reeks.  You can try and hide behind your so-called pious acts of religion and make all sorts of claims but it all is bullshit to the nth degree.  I have had enough.  ENOUGH dammit and if you make any more moves and try to call in those who you claim to know…I am going to eviscerate your ass and leave you for the worms.  Crows wont have enough to make a fucking appetizer of you.” He casts his eyes toward The Rummer who is now laughing openly and demands if he will not help him.  “Mon amie, I am a wise man, have seen many things, experienced them as well and even I know better than to fuck with an angry woman holding a sword to my throat. The man behind the mask suddenly swallows as he realizes that there will be no help from any quarter.  I tell him that he is to leave and that the next time I see him, he will be a dead man and will not enjoy any aspect of that particular plane.  The man leaves and my sword is one again hidden.  My dance partner lazily removes himself from his cat bird seat against the wall. He takes my hand and tells me that I still owe him the remainder of a dance.  I laugh and shake my head and so we continue and everyone else does the same.  We speak on the situation that presented itself, what will and will not happen.  I am satisfied that things will soon calm itself from that area.  We walk back to the table where my friend has finished his candy and he is to to return me home directly, with no detours on his return.  He nods and we make our way back to my home.  “Thank you ” he said.  “For allowing me to treat with you”.  I smile.  He’s a kid really, still learning.  “My pleasure” I say.  We reach my door and I bid goodbye.  “For you” I say and hand him one last Bit of Honey.  I watch as his eyes light up and he laughs and takes it from me.  “Directly home now” I say sternly.  He nods and makes his way back in the direction from whence we came and I laugh as I see him unwrap the candy and put it in his mouth, hear his sigh of appreciation at the taste.  I shake my head and make my way inside to find my bed and consider all that has transpired.

All in all I guess I did get some tricks in with those treats after all

Let it burn

Rage trigger alert for those who like myself have issues:

“Forgiveness is for the forgiver”. “You need to forgive those who harmed you”. (insert HUGE scream here)NO I FUCKING DON’T! First…I am not so quick to apply that christian aspect to others. That particular tenet does not apply to any path I may walk.  I may  allow someone to slide sometimes in their treatment of myself, but its never forgotten…just accredited to the debit column.  It’s used as a way to keep checks and balance on those who call themselves “friends”, “family”…Too many debit marks, and I cut them loose.  I don’t need the negativity. Secondly, the comment in question was in reference to past abuse in my life. Wait.  I am supposed to forgive  someone who never asked for it, never acknowledged that they were wrong or that their descent into madness was fueled by ignorance and psychotic urging of someone else? No matter that I was the one physically harmed, never mind the emotional trauma and baggage I still carry around from it? Show of hands…who out there believes this is a viable plan? ~Looks around~Yeah, I see a few..dismissing ya’ll with shake of my head atm.

Here is what I think I HAVE to do. I HAVE to find a way to live through it and come out of the other side with a quasi reasonable version of sanity.  I have worked through a lot of it, but it rears its head sometimes when I see something of same caliber that hits me like a wall of bricks just leveled me.  I still carry a lot of anger with me.  It’s what carries me through life, especially when  things get chaotic and I need that extra push to help me stand yelling for the universe to bring it cause I’m not dead yet.  The sarcasm?  Natural protection tactic that I’ve learned to use to my advantage.  Sometimes I use it too well. I snark at most every thing.

Forgiveness?  Not even a blip on the horizon.  I have no need to add something to my life that is archaic, unneeded, unwanted and most of all insulting.  It reduces me to something less than human, with all my emotions, thoughts and physical welfare minimized to a pile of shit.  No respect at all for who I was going through the chaos and emerging on the other side of the glass a stronger person.  I use what I have left within in order to be that person. So if that doesn’t jibe with your view of what a “real” person does.  I can’t help it.  I have to do what is best for me.  Carry that anger, letting that fire within me burn and greet each day as a challenge to be conquered and enjoyed. Yeah, think I’m just gonna let it burn.

C’est la vie 

Open letter to VermonT

Hey..been awhile huh?  The name?  Just a misnomer that keeps me from speaking your true name.  I haven’t heard from many since my departure from your group, yet some still seem to keep tabs on those of us that were decreed demonic, satanic, heretics, demon worshipers. For the record…we don’t worship them but aren’t afraid to work with them when the need arises either). That seems to scare many within the confines of your walls, but then we aren’t bound as you are in any one set.  The grapevine keeps things humming, either causing me to chuckle at some of the antics, or a shaking of my head at the ignorance.  Such as one posted today.  http://www.raceandhistory.com/cgi-bin/forum/webbbs_config.pl/noframes/read/2324.  So I call out Dayila Devine and your group. And here is the reason why.  If this writing had been on libation and the history of where it originated in Africa, then I’d have read and accepted.  But it wasn’t.  It was racist in tone, and extremely offensive.  White people have no souls? WTF!?!?! REALLY?  All human beings have souls. To say otherwise lowers one to the level of a baser animal.  So whites or those that are not of African descent(how far back are we talking until you decide that there is no connection?).  The problem with this is that one of your members has posted this all over the damn place, and I have yet to see/hear ONE of your leadership step up and speak out against the racist tones found within the piece.  Why is that?  Is it because there are those within your group/’ranks that also feel the same about any not like yourself? This piece started with good intent, speaking on how to do a proper libation. Then within the confines of its heart, it reveals a truth about the writer.  No interracial marriage/relationships..kind of fucks up  what some of  ya’ll have going on huh? People of African race(still confused about OP’s specifics) are a diseased people due to interaction of non-Africans and whites.
My problem with groups such as yours is that you hold an elitist view that rivals the OP  of posted blog.  If people do not walk in the same direction that you believe is correct then obviously there is something wrong with them.  You do realize that as head and leaders of such a group, you set the standard? People pattern themselves after you, and you encourage that.  So when one of your own is posting racist shit EVERY.DAMN.PLACE. I and others hold you as responsible party….your silence is acquiescence.  Why is that? Are you not about humanity and helping others?  I’ve heard that espoused within your sect. What I have seen in social media is a generic posting of “rituals” one can find all over the net and yet was never accredited to any other than the person who posted. A selling of various “tools” used in workings and offers of works done for others…at a price. And yes, even racial remarks against others not from Haiti, melanin challenged, of other paths. I didnt realize that is what your faith was about. I’ve met others who practice along your lines…gay, white people, black people..they all seem to get along…even “without souls”. They aren’t the same. Same rituals, sort of…they actually speak reverently of ancestors, even those deemed “inappropriate”.  So I call you out.  It’s time to stand up and denounce those bigots within your midst.  Stop allowing the posting of racist shit, and above all, be honest about what your faith believes and how you practice.  If you do not then you are no better, and no different than those you constantly degrade in your petty jealous “witch wars”(for lack of better term cause I know ya’ll are NOT witches).

 

tempête parfaite

We don’t need another hero

We don’t need another hero

 

 

My apologies to the great Tina Turner, for swiping the title to her song.  But it seemed to fit  where my thoughts were going today.

We’ve all seen the Chicken Littles.  Those people who after having been hit on the head by an acorn, run around searching for “someone”to come and save them from the falling sky.  These are the people who step out into areas they have no idea of how it works and get into trouble then demand a lifeline.  “Help me”! I hear over and over again, as do others, from people who will NOT listen to those more experienced who warn them to not go into the deep end.  “But I can do this..I know what to expect…I can be like you.  Hey we’ll make it a party and meet up in the Otherworlds..that will be cool right?” NO. They don’t listen.  What happens? They end up doing what was told that they should not do and end up out there on the ledge barely clinging to sanity, seeking medical help from those who only know how to write for drugs because they refuse to believe that the Otherworld exists. Is there help for them? Yes.  Apologize to those they pissed off across the divide, and close the door.  Then work on regaining some balance into their lives, letting go of all the role playing they’ve been into and going out into the sunshine and experiencing some real connections with others. You’ll notice that I made no mention of anyone else doing this? That is because personal responsibility decrees that YOU brought this shit to your door..YOU dismiss it.  It doesn’t belong to anyone else.  And don’t get me started on those who work without once thinking of protecting themselves then wonder why they have company.  Be careful what you ask for cause you may just get it…sort of.

What about those IRL(IN Real Life) who whine about everything in their lives from lack of finances, abusive people in their lives, yet stay in their situation without making a move to change it,  or spending money frivolously then complaining the next minute how broke they are.  For myself, it’s easy enough to say..if you are being treated less than you are worth, then move the hell on.  Tell your fears to take a hike and use it as the impetus to make yourself stronger and become whole.  If you can’t pay your bills, then set yourself a budget, writing down every dime you spend, doing without sodas, breakfast,lunch,dinner out, or going to fairs, entertainments   like movies etc.  When you can pay all your bills and breathe without feeling stressed at not having lights on or gas for your car to get to work, then and only then can you treat yourself.  It’s common sense people.  Nobody needs to show you the way “home”.  I see all the ads for companies that want to help you get out of debt(for a price–always a string attached)…It’s like nobody has ever told these people using the services that you do not outspend what you do not have.  Bills get paid first, kids needs come next.  Why?  because it’s called being an adult…personal responsibility.   No matter what side of the divide we find ourselves on, it is our personal responsibility to make sure that what we do doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass, leaving us to whine and cry expecting someone to swim out and save us. We don’t need another hero people, we just need to grow the fuck up.

 

 

This is not the Halloween you’re looking for

With the upcoming celebrations close at hand, I’ve been checking out the decorations and such of others.  Most are the typical hollyweird version of what it’s supposed to be about, the blood, gore, zombies etc that make tons of money for stores and movie studios.  Occasionally I run across some people’s altars set up and say “yeah..THAT is what’s is about”.   Now to be fair, those outside the pagan world celebrate with haunted houses, parties, dress up and tons of candy, and that is fine since its Halloween after all.  Others celebrate differently..Samhain, Dias de la Muerte, Fet Ghede.  Those celebrations are all about ancestors..those near and far who have moved beyond the veil.  We acknowledge their presence in our lives, their influence and their knowledge that continues. Some do this on Halloween night after other festivities as a way of bridging the secular world with their spiritual one, others work Nov 1, All souls day(the 2nd in some places).  For many its the last harvest time, beginning of New year, time of introspection in which to grow.
So imagine my dismay when I saw in a group of pagans people where one  speaks of Halloween as this is time of party games, and send the soul on its way, and “don’t all witches prefer the scary”? So many headdesks, I would not even know when to stop.   First, as I have pointed out many times, “we” are NOT all alike.  Some people like the horror shit.  I am one who does not.  Secondly, when the veil is thinnest, we do NOT send souls on…that isn’t our job.  We honor ancestors, invite them in, and feed them(dumb suppers), candles are lit to give them guidance to us.  I have no idea where this person got her info…it was just ignorant and to openly put it out in a group showed that.  What bothered me was that nobody chewed her ass for it or educated her as to why her info was wrong..Hell even a suggestion of Google would have been preferable to let that stand. People like that make me angry.  It’s why pagans aren’t taken seriously because of the fluff that abounds. This is stupidity at its best.  It’s not role play people.  Majority of us..this is our spiritual life you are speaking of.  Full of tradition(some of it UPG, others reconstructed from older path), and not some cloak that we put on and take off like some game when it suits us.  it encompasses all areas of our lives, and this is one of the most holiest of days for us as we thank those who came before us and guide our steps today.

I celebrate Fet Ghede.  I go to the cemetery , clean up around my parent and brothers place, speaking to them as I do so.  I place flowers and libation there as well.  Later I will have a dumb supper for those ancestors I did not know, those I did but are not buried close enough to visit their graves.  Lastly I will have a private ritual., making resolutions/plans for the new year. Nothing about this sounds remotely to what said above asscricket spoke about does it?  Of course not.  because this is part of my spiritual self.  Part of who I am.  And every time some jackass makes a comment like that, it pisses me off, because I feel that they are insulting the very fiber of what holds my path together.  Ancestors are damned important.  They have much to teach.  They give you roots upon which to build .

So for those of you playing around, celebrating Halloween, partying and all…that’s cool.  I have no problem with that.  Just remember that some of us take this time of the year pretty serious and could you educate yourself a little before opening the mouth and saying something insulting? It would be highly appreciated.