Tattoos to Honor the Self

The people in my mundane community are mostly conservative, lower middle-class, blue-collar, rural, with High School educations.  They struggle.  They look like me and, when they see me, they assume that I share their world view.  The Witches in this area mostly exercise discretion, as does the LGTBQ community, the Leather and Kink and Poly communities, and even the Socially and Politically Liberal community. 

Some days it is a challenge to be at work where my customers and co-workers feel free to speak about their politics.  I am honest with my employers and co-workers about my religion and my identity as a Queer, Poly person (although my kink tendencies are something I keep private in this situation) I also do not believe that a bank is an appropriate place to give voice to religious, social, or political ideas. At times, I become very annoyed, and irritated by the ignorance and delusions I hear, it wears on a person. 

But I cannot see them as my enemies.  They are human beings struggling to get by.  They are sleep-walkers suffering from soul-sickness, as so many in our society are.  They deserve my pity, not my hatred.  I need to remind myself of this truth often these days. 

And every now and then, I need to do something to remind myself of who I truly am.  The past few days I received 3 new tattoos.  One to honor my Brothers, both my younger brother, whom we lost this past summer, and my older brother whom I love and cherish.  The other two honor Spirit Allies, Bear and Wolf.   There will be more in the future.  It helps me, to look less like my neighbors, and to see the ink upon my skin, to remember who I am, and what I truly believe. 

Those who are asleep, ignorant, delusional, and blind, those who are arrogant, power hungry and manipulative, those who speak untruths with impunity, those who would do harm, may not be my Enemies but, they are not my Community, my Family, or my Tribe. 

I can do many things to positively affect the future.  There are many ways that I can be open and use my voice to speak Truth and to support others as they too speak and resist and fight the good fight.  I believe in peaceful resistance, in Magick and in Prayer.  I believe in the Truth against the World, Heart to Heart, Shout above the Shouting, until there is Peace.

I have spent a great deal of time considering how I might contribute to the work of making things better.  I believe that being more open in my mundane community and actively serving the Earth, and the humans I share this Earth with, is a good place to start.  Praying and doing Magick to heal, awaken, and re-enchant the world are actions that I can commit to.

Encouraging others to resist, letting them know that they are not alone, and supporting them in that work are also actions that I can sustain.  Letting my elected representatives know how I expect them to represent me and my issues is also my duty as a citizen. 

I will remember who I am, and I will remember my purpose, and I will do those things that I can do to make things better.  So Mote It Be!

Love, Loss, Disapproval, and Reclaiming Self

Seventeen days ago, my younger brother died suddenly and unexpectedly.  The thing is that while I loved him, he disapproved of almost everything about me. (and what he did not know about me, he would have disapproved of even more) I have spent a good part of my life trying to be someone he would like.  Most of my people-pleasing behaviors were an attempt to be who he wanted me to be, and a lot of my anxiety, and belief that I was not “good enough“, was based upon his disapproval.

Spending the better part of the week after his death with my family brought on a resurgence of those feelings, and those patterns of behavior reasserted themselves with a vengeance.  It has been a challenge to let go of those behaviors, to recognize those feelings and release those anxieties.   My grief has also been accompanied by the conflict that existed between us and my feelings about that conflict.

The loss of my younger brother has caused me to reexamine my relationships with the other members of my family who remain, and my presence in the world.  I have also been challenged to remember all of the work I have done in these past years to discover my true Self, but most of all, to remember that Self. 

All of that work means nothing if I cannot remember my true Self in this grief.  It is not perfection that must be achieved but, integrity.  I am a strong, loving, capable woman who serves my beloveds well.   I am a woman who has a noble purpose that I serve with honor, courage and integrity.  And while my brother was a good man, whom I loved, he was wrong about my value and my worth. 

 Loving my family, does not require that I agree with them.  I will grieve him and love them even as I remember my true Self.  So Mote It Be.

on safety, strength, loving and being loved.

I have never in my life felt completely safe with those I loved, with those who loved me.  I have felt that longing, that lacking, for as long as I can remember.  I had not been able to put a word to that feeling until I went to see Monika Lonely Coyote for shamanic healing this past summer.  When she was working on my heart, she gave the word “safe” to the thing I have needed and never had. 

I have been revisiting that need recently.  I have begun working with the Lady Freyja-Vanadis, the Vanir Goddess of Love, Sexuality, War and Death.  It seems that the Lady wishes me to revisit ALL of the memories that I have willfully forgotten in order to resolve them.  The moments when someone whom I loved, someone who loved me, valued someone or something more than they valued me.  The betrayals that I have chosen to forget in order to avoid the conflict of feeling betrayed.  My version of loyalty and unconditional love. 

I have always known that each person I loved, who loved me, valued something or someone more, would always choose that thing or that person before me, that I would always be second to whatever, or whoever that was.  And I have not been wrong. 

The thing about never feeling safe in that way is that, while you can choose to love someone knowing that to be true, trusting them becomes a choice to accept that you will never feel safe.  You will always have to love them from strength that you can never put down.  And that strength becomes very thin, and very heavy, all at the same time. 

The insecurity of that place eventually wears down the strength that you have until you either stop loving and close off or, you become dependent and incapable of loving, only of needing.

The Lady does not seem to find either of those options acceptable, and so I must learn to Love from a place of Trust and Strength, and that requires that I must learn to feel safe.  And so we are revisiting all of the moments that have taught me that I am not safe, in order to resolve them, and to try to learn how to let go of them somehow. 

I have recently come to know …and love…someone who is a catalyst for me in this work.  This person has challenged my belief that I cannot ever feel safe in another’s love.  Like me, this person has other lovers, and like me, they do not struggle with jealousy, but they have shown me love in a way that I have never experienced before.  They protect and care for me in moments of weakness and vulnerability, they accept me and love me unconditionally, they have shown me their loyalty and that they value me.  And they have accepted my care and protection, my loyalty and love, my support and respect.  They have shown me what it is to feel safe.

In that place of Safety, Trust is real, and Strength is real.  Because I can feel safe I can truly feel strong and I can truly love others, for Loving others comes from Strength, from the place of knowing that I can serve them, that because of my ability to trust, and to feel safe, I can return to a place of strength and do what needs to be done, to provide what strength, safety, support and loyalty is needed.   I can put the needs of those I love before my own because, my own needs are met, and I am safe.

the shadow child and her body

The shadow child will not write.  And I cannot write while she is speaking to me.  I tried to invoke her the other night, for the first time I invoked her by choice but, I had to stop because it hurt too much.  The pain in my chest made it too difficult to breathe and I knew that if I chose to go any further it would be a very long dark night.  I am not afraid of the work or the pain but, I have a job and self-induced fatigue is not a responsible decision.  

I will do that work when I can do so without time constraints and I will borrow a recorder and try to invoke her to use her voice or I will give voice to the things that she says in those moments.  It was not an unproductive evening however, I did gain some understanding and insights that I had not previously possessed.

 She has a great many fears, many things that anger her and, a lot of irrational beliefs and I will be working with her about those feelings and those beliefs but, the insight I gained the other night was about her feelings concerning our body. 

 She is conflicted in her feelings about our body.  She hates it because she sees it as the only thing that anyone wants from us and something that others can use to take from her, yet because she fears being invisible and abandoned she is afraid that no one will ever want it enough to see her and to stay with her..even love her and protect her.  She does not truly trust me to do that, because I was not able to do so at the time.

She has very little control over what we decide to do with our body, and that both angers her and frightens her but,  the one thing that she does have more control over than any other member of the committee is what we eat.

She does not control what we eat entirely.  If she did, we would starve and waste away to nothing, or at the least become very ill.  I have diabetes and I must eat to maintain my health.  Most days I will force myself to eat if I have to because, it is my responsibility to keep this body and this soul together for as long as it takes us to learn what we are here to learn and to accomplish our purpose in this life.  

I have noticed her anger and rebellion when someone comments on what we eat.  People will  joke about what we eat, will offer opinions or advise,  will criticize and ridicule, or take offence when we do not eat what they have spent the time and effort to cook.  I appreciate the love that others show by making food to feed others, including us.  But, no one gets to decide what she puts into her mouth, what she eats.  She will not eat just to please anyone.  She will not eat to be polite.  It is the only control that she has over her body and she will not relinquish it.  She is very stubborn, that is one of her strengths.

I am glad that she has strength of her own…it will help in the work we have ahead of us. 

the Other

I am the Other, the Shadow.  I am anger and rage and pain.  I am aggression and hunger.  I am claws and fangs and the desire to make others hurt.  I am vicious and destructive and ruthless.  I am the one who rejects the rules, I am the outlaw.

I am the one who has been locked away and the dark one behind the lady of sorrows.  I am the predator and the one who knows no compassion.  I am the wild one who shape-shifts and works with deception and stealth.  I am the one who drinks too much and builds boxes and locks things away.

I am the one who would choose the freedom of the open road, and anonymity.  I am the one who wants and will do anything to have what I want.  I am the one who lashes out and leaves others to deal with the consequences.   

I am the one who sacrifices the others and watches from outside our body.  I am the one who burns and the one who cuts and the one who hates. I am the one who does not trust, anyone, ever.  I am the one who never shows fear, or pity, or weakness of any kind.  I am the one who will not scream.

I am the one who will no longer be caged.  I am the one who refuses to surrender, no matter what. I am the one who is learning to find other ways to live.  

Patterns

Understanding the way I function, the way I relate to others, the way I engage, or do not engage, is an important step to making a choice to change the patterns that do not work well, the ones that prevent me from engaging with other humans in a healthy and balanced way.

Compartmentalization is a useful strategy, until it isn’t.  The boxes are helpful in making sure that no one is ignored but, it is also necessary to build bigger boxes and allow for thresholds between them so that communication and cooperation are possible.  Not only so that we can establish agreements and healthy boundaries but, so that we can heal the child and so that we can live with integrity.

In the practice of magick it is necessary that all of my parts are engaged in the intent to use power.  In journeying and other magickal processes it is also necessary to be able to open to Spirit.  I have had difficulty in allowing my power to flow and in being fully open but, these past months I have made progress, both in learning to let go and in regaining control when I need to. 

Intellectualization is also a useful tool, until it isn’t.  Being able to think calmly and rationally in a crisis is helpful when things need to be handled but, thinking as a way of avoiding emotions altogether, or as a substitute for feeling is no way to live.  We have hearts not only minds. Both need to be engaged if we are to live full lives. 

In disassembling many of the structures I have built over decades, I have found that I have been revisited by many of the patterns and behaviors and thoughts that I had rejected.  I need to find new ways, better ways, of coping with the feelings and the voices.  And I need to establish different patterns of engaging with others.

Different persons of the committee have different styles of attachment and none of them really work well.  Certainly not the way I would desire.  Some would avoid intimacy or emotional engagement completely, valuing our autonomy and independence above all else.  Most of us have a fearful-avoidant pattern, desiring to connect with others but holding back.  And the child is simply terrified of being touched and of being abandoned.

Understanding and recognizing how the patterns work, being aware of them and making choices to relate differently, to take chances, to fall in love and to express that love, these are a good beginning I think.

Panic

The people who love me want me to be happy.  I want to be happy.  Even more, I want the people I love to be happy.  My loved ones, for the most part, are normal people.  To them, wanting me to be happy means wanting me to be safe and cared for, by someone normal and nice, wanting me to have a normal relationship, so that I am not alone.  To that end I have been going out and meeting people.

This has resulted in my being exhausted and vulnerable and in an extreme state of weakness that resulted in a panic attack last night.  I rarely experience panic anymore but, in the past two months I have had two such experiences.  

I have experienced social anxiety for most of my life.  Meeting strangers, no matter how nice they are, is exhausting and stressful.   But meeting strangers, who are looking for something that I am incapable of giving, is so in the extreme.  Nice people that want something pull at me.  And no matter how hard I work at breaking the habit of “people-pleasing” when I am tired and not on my guard, I slip into the habit.  So I have been trying to please my loved ones and I have been trying to be nice to strangers and I have been feeling pulled at. 

Instead of listening to my own needs for solitude and withdrawal, I kept trying.  I was trying to do what my loved ones think I need to do.  To engage with others so that no one has to worry about me being alone and in pain.  But being in pain because I loved someone is something that I cannot and will not avoid by distracting myself with others.  I am not made that way.  I believe pain teaches and heartache is something humans recover from.

The experience has borne fruit, the panic attack notwithstanding.  A beloved was present as a voice in the night and I was reminded once again with empirical evidence that I am not alone.  And with that beloved's help, I re-discovered the shadow child and the behavior that triggered her into speaking so loudly.  Allowing myself to be pulled at by strangers.  Feeling guilt and self-judgment about being incapable of connecting with others.  Feeling guilt about not being able to make those I love happy because I feel differently about how to find happiness for my life.

I realize that my beloveds want me to be happy in whatever way I need.  They would not judge me.  I need to pay attention to what my internal committee tells me, what my heart tells me, even if that means being alone for a while to listen to the child, or to recover my balance, or to focus on my work.  Healing takes time and space.  Panic occurs when I feel trapped.  I will give myself space enough to hear. 

The Committee

Pathways by Susan Sedon Boulet

I do not suffer from dissosiative identity disorder however, compartmentalization is a natural part of how I function. It does pose a challenge in areas where it creates obstacles to emotional involvement or, to engaging all of myself in certain processes, especially magickal ones.  I am actively working to overcome those obstacles in those areas of my life.  This includes how they affect my identity and my ability to live with integrity.

I am becoming familiar with the many different people who live within this body…I would call it my body but, it is truly our body…it belongs to each of us.  Each of us has desires.  Each of us has only this body to fulfill those desires, to experience that which she craves, to express who she is and how she loves.  Complete integration does not seem to be truly possible, or ideal for that matter, because someone would have to be sacrificed, suppressed or silenced, and we have been doing that for far too many years already. 

We have been communicating with each other and we have been attempting to express our various desires, to find common ground and to establish boundaries that we can agree upon when those desires are in direct conflict with each other.  It has been important to recognize that each of us has a distinct voice and deserves to be heard and to be allowed to express herself and her desires without being sublimated to another.

Sometimes more than one of us desires to engage and, while some of us can engage simultaneously if our natures are similar enough, some of us are too different to do so and a choice must be made.  We are learning to negotiate those choices so that no one goes hungry to the point of rebellion. 

Rebellion is generally counter-productive and results in destructive behavior.  We have been working and conversing for many long nights over these past months to establish agreement so that we can live with integrity, for each of us and, for all of us.

I will be sharing the poetry and expressions of these various persons/parts of me, on this blog over the next few weeks or months.  For now I will simply “name” them, the mother, the witch, the priestess, the bitch, the woman, the switch and the other. 

We greet you, Merry Meet, Hail and Welcome.

Learning to feel...

It has been a difficult week and I am trying to process all that has happened.  It started with an experience that opened up a lot of emotional boxes that I have kept carefully locked for a long time.  This resulted in an average of three hours sleep each night and dreams that I wish I did not remember, that made my waking hours uneasy. 

This weekend I spent with loved ones and attended the celebration of a cherished friend.  I have been looking forward to it for months.  Before the party, we engaged in a few hours of very energetic play that included pushing my limits in ways that I did not expect. 

My reaction to these experiences, before we ever even arrived at the party, was unexpected as well, although not unfamiliar to me.  My anger escaped and I felt overwhelmed by feelings.  Not specific feelings that I could identify and process but, rather simply too much feeling.  And as has been the case for the past week, my ability to shut down those feelings was missing.  It was just gone. 

The part that was familiar was an almost overwhelming desire to walk out onto the highway and catch a ride to anywhere else.  The thought that “I could be ten states away by morning” kept repeating in my brain.  The desire to hurt someone was also very strong and difficult to silence. 

I have not had those thoughts, those desires, so strongly in decades. And I returned to a behavior that I rejected years ago.  I resorted to sipping on a bottle of fire whiskey all night long to quiet those thoughts and to numb those feelings.

That form of self-medication has never proven to be very effective and, while I managed at first to regain some semblance of control and even danced and spent time laughing with loved ones, the moment eventually came when I just fell apart.

I know exactly where I was when it happened.  The truly mystifying thing about it was that, suddenly I was surrounded by six people whom I love, and I do mean surrounded.  They were standing around me in a circle.  One moment to the next, they were just simply there.  I have no idea how they knew what was about to happen.  None of them have ever seen me in that state before, certainly not at a party.  But I could not hold it together any longer and I could not keep the feelings contained, nor could I keep them out. 

It feels as though they stood there with me for a long time.  I believe I was crying.  I know that I was ashamed.  I know that I kept apologizing for my weakness.  I know that they kept reminding me, that if it were any one of them, I would not consider it to be weakness. 

I am incredibly grateful for their support.  And for a beloved who sat in a car with me and talked me down from a very bad anxiety attach after, and for beloveds who never complained when the dreams that kept waking me, woke them as well.  And who let me remain silent on the long drive home. 

I am home now, alone in the quiet with my beloved Pwca.  My chest still hurts and I keep crying, over what I don’t know, but I am safely away from the thoughts and the feelings that seemed so overwhelming.  I will try to sleep again and hopefully the dreams will let me.  I will try to make sense of this week when I wake.  

Self discussion

I am awake long past the time I should be asleep, again, because the voices in my head are having a discussion.  There have been many of these discussions in the past few months.  Once upon a time that would have meant nights of profound despair, of voices screaming at me with recrimination and rage, with accusations and loathing and a great deal of emotional pain.

But those conversations have changed.  Now they are a function of self discovery and reconciliation.  Now the voices have become distinct, they are honored now, they are heard and they actually listen to each other and even work together to understand their separate points of view so that they can either come to a consensus or establish a balance with healthy boundaries.

I am engaged in an active process of integration.  Many of the voices hold no conflict between them and are in agreement about most of their desires and how to achieve those desires.  Most of them agree about ethics and behavior and can all play nicely together.  And we all agree that living our life fully and without shame or fear is necessary.

To that end, I spent the weekend doing just that, and I feel energized and joyful.  But there was a moment that required me to let go of an opportunity to engage in a way that I would have enjoyed.  I did not “hold back” in the way that I used to, out of fear or shame or any other self censorship (and that in itself is a victory for me) but, there was quiet decision made almost without conscious awareness (also a victory of a kind) to wait and let the opportunity pass for now.  That is the subject currently under discussion.  There is a boundary that we are not all in agreement about and we need to have a conversation, because everyone at the table has a voice that is important to living with integrity.

I am pleased that the voices are all actually mine, and not from others, society, or programming from childhood, nor are any of them angry or fighting dirty. They are each honestly engaged in figuring this out so that we can make a decision that is right for all of us.  I had not been consciously aware of the boundary conflict in the moment but, I am pleased that the uncontrollable self-destructive pattern has been successfully replaced with patience and trust.

It might be a long night but, it will be productive and much less painful than they used to be.

I give thanks.

the crash...

I have been high on you for days now…

When you left

I breathed you in as deeply as I could

an opium addict breathing in the sacred flower

collecting your scent like a bee collecting pollen

wanting to climb inside your skin

and go with you

a contagion in your blood

a chrysalis lodged within your brain

your goodbye reminded me

of where the bruises will show

a few days from now.

And with a smile that said

“I’m sorry, You deserve more than I can give you…”

Your pity robbed me of my strength.

and all of the joy

that you could have left behind,

you took with you

  

I NEVER ASKED FOR MORE

I AM NOT ASKING NOW

the grip of your hand is gone

but my throat is tight

and my chest

Insecurity

a black and twisted vine

 has grown from my womb

 three feet in the hours since you left

wrapping around my heart

around my throat

each breath, each beat   

struggle against desire

The bruises are tender now,

the ones that are visible 

and the ones just under the surface

that I can feel but not yet see. 

and the ones that will never show on my skin

I am unsure,  

of all but the tears I can no longer turn to ice

my heart is too warm now

thawed by the heat within me

by the fire that has awakened

by flames I cannot, will not live without 

I wish you had left me

in that oblivion

where my words and my names are not

and smiles do not leave bruises.

Judgments

The thought crossed my mind today that I wish I had not learned these things about myself. 

I am having difficulty accepting and reconciling the conflict between these desires and most especially with the judgments that I make about them. It feels as though these desires belong to separate people who do not understand or trust each other.  And who judge each other harshly.

I considered pretending that they are not real, not truly a part of me but, I have too many memories from too many decades that prove to me that they are true and that they are profoundly important. I have too many memories from too many decades that warn me that pretending that they are not real will fail and that would be dangerous to my well being.

I fear that the part of me that enjoys inflicting pain and controlling others is too chaotic, too destructive, too angry, too dangerous.  I fear that given the freedom to express itself, it will hurt someone because it does not give a damn.  That it is devoid of both compassion and conscience.  That it is incapable of self-control or compromise.

That part of me is so angry because I have denied its existence and its right to exist and to express itself since I was a little girl.  And it judges me, and the part of me that enjoys pain and submission as weak, and deluded, and a coward, and a liar and a whore. 

Some of these judgments may be based in truth.  I have been a liar in denying certain truths, or in pretending to be other than I am.  I have been deluded in thinking that pretending can make it so.  I have been a coward in not speaking because I was afraid.  I have been a whore in betraying my own integrity and honor.

But I am not weak, and I am striving to overcome years of habit in behaving otherwise.  And if I give that angry part of me the chance to express and to live, it may learn to do so in a way that will not be as destructive or out of control as it has been in the past.

So I will put aside the judgments and try for reconciliation and understanding.  I will give each of these conflicting parts of me a gift.  I will give them both the chance to dress up and dance to music that expresses those desires.  I will give them both a book of their own to write from their own point of view. 

That is what I do, I communicate.  Maybe through acknowledging and honoring both as equal parts of myself, as equally deserving of existence and life, and giving each the space to express those desires, to create art and poetry and stories about who I am, I will be able to integrate them into a happy and whole person that is me.

While I may find this knowledge confusing and disturbing, I am committed to understanding all of who I am, and to learning to live as a whole person.  I suspect that the process of integrating these aspects of my identity and of mastering the power that they hold for me will be uneasy, perhaps uncomfortable, and possibly painful.  I know that the prospect is terrifying. 

But fear and pain are not reason enough to turn back, even if I could.  I have paid too high a price to fail.  People I love have sacrificed so that I might finally live.  I will not betray them, I will not betray myself.  I will do whatever is necessary to fulfill the vows that I have made.

So Mote It Be.

The Paradox

The paradox of human identity is wonderful and horrible all at once.  It is necessary and beautiful and terrifying.  And sexual identity is all of those things and incredibly messy on top of it all.

The thing about exploring who you are is that sometimes it means you have to face up to things with which you may not be comfortable.  And just when you think you have come to terms with one truth about your Self, it gets all turned around, and upside down, and inside out, and backwards and you discover another truth that your mind and your heart might have difficulty reconciling.

My Gods have been pushing and demanding and relentless in their insistence that I work with my source of power and to do that I need to fully know it.  I have recently spent time with my friend experimenting and exploring and having fun and being terrified. 

This work did not involve much pain for me but, it did involve a great deal of fear and working with a part of me that I had insisted was false…as it turns out I was wrong.  It is not false, but it is angry, very angry.  And it frightens me more that any pain I have ever experienced.

As much as I have the capacity to accept and enjoy pain, I have an equal capacity to enjoy inflicting it upon others and perhaps an even stronger drive to do so.  My pleasure in submitting to the control of another is equaled by my pleasure in controlling someone else. 

My friend (who does not enjoy pain in the way that I do) allowed me to express this, even pushed me until I did so.  This was difficult and terrifying for me (and painful for them and I am immensely grateful for my friend's strength and commitment to help me learn about myself).  I do not know anything about expressing that desire with control, although I have controlled it for most of my life, I have done so by not allowing it any expression and that is not something that I can continue if I am to live with the integrity that my Gods demand. 

I need to work with these conflicting desires until I can find a balance, until I can express both within my ethical structure and with the care and control that is necessary for my safety as well as the safety and well being of anyone with whom I might engage.

I will work with all that I am to integrate these disparate truths.  To be a whole person is to be a well and happy person.  Without knowledge, no work is possible and I would simply be continuing to hide from myself.  I began this exploration with the vow that I would not look away, and I will not.

The Third Gate

A cherished and trusted friend created and facilitated a ritual for me recently.  The intent was for me to experience fear and struggle and pain and to discover my responses, my limits, and to push me as far as I chose to be pushed.  It was a physical ordeal designed to accomplish a spiritual goal.

My friend believed that such an experiment would help me to achieve a state where I might find a part of me that I needed to connect with.  I trusted this friend to know how to push me, and to be willing and capable of doing so, and of safeguarding me should I become unwilling to back down.

It takes a lot of courage to push someone in that way, even more when you care for them.  It is difficult to put someone we care for in pain.  It takes a lot of trust that they are strong enough to cope with the results. 

I am grateful for my friend’s trust and for their courage, and for the ritual and for the profound discovery that resulted. 

A a result of the ordeal, I passed through three Gates, thresh-holds to depths of self.  I became connected to deeper and deeper levels within myself.  

The first Gate was a state of mind, of thoughts and words and a physical “high”.  It was also a psychic high, my “head-blindness” faded until I could “see” in ways that I have not before, I could feel, hear and smell in ways I have not before.

The second Gate was a state of emotion, of fear and submission and sexual arousal, of energy and need and instinct to survive.

The third Gate was a state of Power.  This was the state that I had hoped to reach. This was the place that I needed to be pushed to.  It is a place of strength and will, of aggression and fire and the warrior spirit within me. 

When I had reached that place, words were inaccessible; emotion was irrelevant, only power existed.

Returning to the place where words are possible required me to pass through the place of emotion again.  First was what my friend interpreted as “wrath”, then hysterical laughter, then wracking sobs, then a feeling of exhausted euphoria. 

After thanking my Patrons, my Ancestors and my Spirit Allies that I had invoked to protect and guard the space and whom I had entreated to push me and my friend until I had reached the place I needed to, I put the structures of myself back into a functional order. 

I did that by putting the space in order, then deconstructing the wards and the energetic fortress that I had built to create sacred and protected space and to keep out anything that might interfere with our work, as well as to keep in all the energy raised so that it would go unnoticed by anyone outside. 

I am still processing the magick but, I know that I will not be the same.  I also know that now that I have found that place, I need to master that power.  Power without purpose means nothing.  To use it, I must master it, to master it, I must access it, and to access it, I needed to find it.  Now begins the work of practice and finding the principles of honor that apply to its use. 

Truth be told, I have been afraid of my power.  I have been afraid that I will not know how to use it wisely and honorably.  That because it resides in a place where my compassion does not, to use it would result in everyone around me ending up “dead and bloody”. 

I understand now that I have what I need to make sure that does not happen.  There is a reason that my place of power must be accessed through the place where my compassion lives.  There is also a reason that I needed to struggle through the pain in order to find it. 

I will be continuing to explore my responses to pain and my limits, the things that it teaches me and the role that it plays in my sexual identity.  But this experience alone was worth more to me than I might have imagined.

I give thanks for the courage, trust, will, and inspired magick of my friend.  And to my Gods, Ancestors and Spirit Allies for knowing my strength and their relentless demands that I finally start living up to it.  I give thanks.

POETRY IS NOT MEANT TO BE POLITE

Before you read any further, understand that the warning at the entry to this blog is there for a reason.   Most of what I have shared here has been written as politely as I am capable of and still discuss the subject matter in question.  The poetry has been the most explicit, and that is because;  

POETRY IS NOT MEANT TO BE POLITE

It is meant to make you feel and respond, to think yes, but more than anything, to experience.  If I was to censor that mode of expression I might as well never write another word as long as I live.

That being said, I am done being polite.  I am done speaking gently so as not to upset anyone, or make anyone uncomfortable.  I am done being anything but brutally honest on this blog.  

This is my place to speak about things that I need to speak about.  This is my place to look at all of the stuff that anyone else would have me hide.  This is my place to explore my journey.

You are welcome to read and to comment as you please, provided you respect the privacy of others, but I will no longer be discrete in my choice of language nor in the subjects that I choose to explore.

I have finally taken the step out of the theory and intellectual exploration and into exploring and experimenting and experiencing in the real world.  

I have experienced a profound awakening and I choose to share those experiences and to explore the meaning I am finding within them here. 

If you do not want to know…don’t read this blog any further.  

I will not be offended by your choice. Go in peace and grace and blessed be on your journey.

If you choose to continue to read these posts, I thank you for your support and your company.  I hope that you may find something here worthy of your time and contemplation. Blessed be.

Boundaries

I have been exploring and experimenting lately.  I have been meeting new people and discussing the nature of desire, and I realized that one of the skills that I need to develop further is the ability to hold strong boundaries.  To see clearly what I desire and to distinguish that from what others may desire.

It is not only a need to communicate those desires, or to negotiate what I am willing to try, but to hold clarity about myself, and to respect my boundaries. 

I have spent most of my life, until recently, complying with the wishes of others.  “People-pleasing” is a habit.  I caught myself asking whether or not I could meet another’s desire, and deciding that, I could indeed accommodate their wishes. 

I realized in that moment that, I was asking the wrong questions.  I need to be asking myself, “What do I want?” and   "Is this person’s desire compatible with my own?”

I can no longer afford to compromise what I want, or my need for autonomy and independence, to fit someone else’s dream.  This journey must be about my dreams. 

In a conversation with someone who was trying to pick me up, and who I had no desire to accommodate, I heard a gem of wisdom.  “It's not about surrendering to another person but, to your own body’s experience.  It’s about your own energy being released, and about your own power to choose.”

In an experiment with a cherished and trusted friend, I discovered that it is indeed about surrendering to my own body, allowing my own energy to flow freely, and it is about my power. 

Choosing to submit to another, in that moment, and only for that moment, is a choice to express my own power and, in doing so, to remember that power. 

The choice is mine and the power is mine. I must be diligent to choose consciously, not through habitual pattern.  And I must be diligent not to sacrifice my strength but, to choose my own desires.

It's the little things...

I wear a uniform everyday to work.  It isn’t horrible but, I hate it.  I hate that it has no color and that the part I have no choice in is a man’s sweater vest.  I grew up wearing dresses only for church and school.  The rest of the time I wore my big brother’s hand-me-downs which eventually were handed down to my little-brother.  I was not a tom-boy.  I hated wearing boy’s clothes, and the haircut my mother gave me when I was six (short like a boy’s).   

It’s not that I don’t get it.  She was a stay-at-home mom with three kids and valued all that was practical and thrifty. She put a great deal of love and time into the things she made for me but, sewing new clothes for me had to be reserved for school and church.  Nevertheless, I never felt right wearing my brother’s clothes, and I hate most of the photos of my childhood because I look like a little boy and I remember how wrong that felt.

I like wearing different clothes to express myself.  I still like to wear different clothes to see how it feels, to try-out facets of identity that I am exploring, to try-on different ways of being a woman.  It occurs to me what it must be like to be a trans-gendered child, to be stuck in a body and expected to dress and behave in a way that does not agree with your true self. 

It may seem to be a small and petty thing, to wear clothes.  They are simply a means to protect our bodies from the elements but, I have always experienced them as an expression of self, or an exploration of identity.  And that is no small thing. 

It really is the “little things” that make a difference…

Desires

There are many facets to desire. Humans are complex and complicated beings. I do not believe that anyone is truly one dimensional in what attracts, excites and arouses them.  I have spent a good deal of time recently learning about many different ways that other people find that allusive jewel.  I have been reading about others’ experiences, discussing with others how the mystery of sexual desire functions for them, even asking questions and discussing ideas about which I am curious.

I have realized that my desires are not simple.  Sometimes they are conflicting even to the point of paradox.  And I am beginning to understand that is a paradox to be celebrated, a mystery to be enjoyed and explored.  I do not have to forsake any of my desires for any other.  I can explore each and every one of them in excruciating detail. 

I still have a very painful stutter when discussing some of the more extreme desires that I have yet to actually experience.  They are not my only desires, but the fact that I have such difficulty articulating them bestows them with immense power to my thinking.  That the simple act of giving voice to them, putting them into language, is such a struggle  (for one who loves words as much as I do) suggests a great deal of meaning and power.

Perhaps it is the fear of judgment, or the fear of being misunderstood.  Truth be told, some of those desires could be misinterpreted, and indeed have been by some of the people I love and respect.  Specifically the desire to submit to someone else’s will, either by acceptance or by physical “force”, seems to invoke in many the idea of being victimized.  The desire to explore pain or fire or blood, seems to invoke concerns about my mental and emotional health and physical safety. 

Perhaps it is the fear of those desires themselves that instills them with such power. Fear is an amazing and profound emotion and the source of great strength.  I have spent much time reading and learning and exploring intellectually, soon it will be time to actually go out and discover what it all might mean.  When I do, it might be in fear but, it will not be in shame.