Dream:
ex boyfriend (practically x-husband) asking me to come back. Actually assuming it was time to come back (we would tend to break up in summer and reignite for the winter months.)
For Samhain we'd keep each other warm.
Ever miss an x?
I mean, after YEARS?
I'm happily married, I picked the right one. Trust me I KNOW.
But every year,around this time,I have a day, where I just miss the other.
So much so that I have to put my head down.
That day; I'm used too, ready for.
But this year, boys and girls, my plate is full of missing.
Did I mention my cousin killed himself 10 days (on the anniversary of our grandmother's, my Father's mother's death) after my Dad's memorial.
Yeah re-read that.
Been drinking alot, too much. avoiding Samhain.
Avoiding ALOT
Avoiding
A Void Ing
Void
Samhain
ok, so reference back to August:
there really is no box.
seems that super wealthy Dad, had a blind spot:
me
my brother.
yep
you got it:
Nada,zip,ziltch,goose egg
ohh Samhain,
the void,
the time to release that which I do not want,
that which no longer serves me
dare I say, I feel some conflict
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Samhain Review
Ok, so I've been too busy to blog. Is there a word for that?
I've been deeply entrenched in a production of an amazing play called "Kindertransport" If you don't know what that is, I suggest researching it.
Anyway the show closes today and the next thing I will be doing is Samhain.
So from Actress to witch, as is my life...
This year Samhain is going to be raw for me. I will NOT be doing any public rituals even thought the pull to do them (and ignore my own) is very strong. This is something I have to struggle with as, on one hand it is my responsibility as a Priestess to facilitate, but on the other hand I must care for myself first or I am of no use to others.
I know, "what the hell are you talking about, Rose?"
Let me explain, below is last year's homily and ritual that I gave/did at my UU church. It should give you an idea of what I'm taking about. Once you've read it, you can imagine the amount of energy it takes to bring 50+ people through a ritual like this (then take their stones to the ocean to release them)
I can't do it this year.
"This is the first time I’ve been called on as a witch and priestess to publicly celebrate Samhain. I will do my best.
Let me start by telling you what it is we do at my house.
We decorate the table with pictures and mementos of our ancestors as well as the last veggies from our garden. We set a place at the dinner table for them to feast with us. We even give them a piece of candy.
But it’s my husband, who really goes for it.
First of all takes the day off, there is a lot of preparation. He LOVES Halloween.
He begins communing with the pumpkins days in advance to “find their faces"; he and the kids repeatedly watch The Great Pumpkin while I roast the pumpkin seeds.
He goes all out with multiple Jack o lanterns, black lights, spiders, candles and fog machine (I’m not kidding, it’s industrial sized this year) for the pleasure and fear of our trick or treaters .
What does any of that have to do with Samhain?
Actually quite a bit.
By doing all of that he has created a place where people truly feel otherworldly when the tread our steps.
They feel fear and have to summon the courage to strive through that fear to get their reward.
That is the journey of Samhain.
Let me explain.
First a quick history of Samhain and how it has shaped the way it is observed today
First off, the word Samhain. Simply put it means “Summer’s End”. The Ancient Celtic year had 2 seasons Summer and Winter. The Year ended at Samhain
Early pagan life depended on a good harvest by summer’s end: they must have all they need filling there larders and root cellars and barns to ensure they and their livestock would survive the winter. There were no markets to run out to for bread or milk, you needed the wheat thrashed and stored safe and dry or there was no bread. It was a time to literally take stock.
Samhain is the final of the 3 Harvest Sabbats of the Pagan/Wiccan calender. The 1st two being Aug 1 called Lugnasadh, and the second on the Autumnal Equinox called Mabon.
Samhain is the last. It is the deadline. Whatever was left unharvested was plowed under to feed next year’s soil and eventual harvest.
At Samhain the seeds must be chosen and stored. Animals culled, some for food and some to propagate for the nest year. Choices were made that our ancestor’s very lives depended on.
Things are a little easier for us now. But we still feel the urge to wrap things up at this time of year. We pack up our summer clothes and pull out the winter ones. We bring in our houseplants from their summer's outside. We clean up the yard and stack our wood for the fires. We still feel the pull to sleep a bit more, eat a bit more and curl up with a book on long cold nights.
I truly believe this is instinctual, the shorter days tells the animals and plants to prepare for the winter, of course we do too, it is in our DNA.
Modern Wiccans and Pagans also see this as a time to think on the past year, all the projects you have sewn and cultivated. All the friendships, arguments, losses and gains you have accumulated over the year.
Is there something you no longer need? Something you wish to banish from your life forever? Samhain is the time for such harvests and banishments.
It is the time to cull what no longer serves you.
Samhain gives us the one time we can truly look Death in the eye. When we can embrace it as the wise Crone who will be fair but stern and help us to look at ourselves and that which we need and that which we do not.
And who better to ask to assist us in this spiritual harvest then our own wise ones who have gone before us?
At this time of seasonal transition,
The veil between the worlds is at its thinnest. We can speak with our beloved dead. We honor them with feasts. We ask for their guidance in our harvest.
This is not an easy thing to do. It takes a lot of courage to remember our dead. It makes us feel sad and lonely, but our memories make us smile as well.
It takes courage to take a look at ourselves and let go of old habits, old patterns of behavior that no longer serve us. These are hard choices.
But the treat!
When we remember our dead we also remember our love for them.
When we let go of that which we no longer need, we make room for new adventures to take shape, new ideas to grow.
The trick is having to face our fear of change. Our fear of the unknown. And the biggest fear, what if we get nothing, what if there is no candy? There’s only one way to find out. Tread the steps, face the witch at the door with the cauldron and look inside.
Think about the things you want to bring into the cold dark time with you. The blessings of those who have gone before, a positive outlook, what will serve you in the coming time when we a re close to one another by the fire. Do we bring anger and bitterness and fear into our stores? Or do we bring happiness, release and courage into our larder.
Today we will do just that.
Here is how it goes.
Each of you was given a rock when you came in. I encourage each of you to take that rock and think on what you would like to get rid of. What no longer serves you? And when you are ready please come up and drop it in the bowl of salt and water. This is your release.
Then light a candle as a beacon for your ancestors, honor them and listen."
I've been deeply entrenched in a production of an amazing play called "Kindertransport" If you don't know what that is, I suggest researching it.
Anyway the show closes today and the next thing I will be doing is Samhain.
So from Actress to witch, as is my life...
This year Samhain is going to be raw for me. I will NOT be doing any public rituals even thought the pull to do them (and ignore my own) is very strong. This is something I have to struggle with as, on one hand it is my responsibility as a Priestess to facilitate, but on the other hand I must care for myself first or I am of no use to others.
I know, "what the hell are you talking about, Rose?"
Let me explain, below is last year's homily and ritual that I gave/did at my UU church. It should give you an idea of what I'm taking about. Once you've read it, you can imagine the amount of energy it takes to bring 50+ people through a ritual like this (then take their stones to the ocean to release them)
I can't do it this year.
"This is the first time I’ve been called on as a witch and priestess to publicly celebrate Samhain. I will do my best.
Let me start by telling you what it is we do at my house.
We decorate the table with pictures and mementos of our ancestors as well as the last veggies from our garden. We set a place at the dinner table for them to feast with us. We even give them a piece of candy.
But it’s my husband, who really goes for it.
First of all takes the day off, there is a lot of preparation. He LOVES Halloween.
He begins communing with the pumpkins days in advance to “find their faces"; he and the kids repeatedly watch The Great Pumpkin while I roast the pumpkin seeds.
He goes all out with multiple Jack o lanterns, black lights, spiders, candles and fog machine (I’m not kidding, it’s industrial sized this year) for the pleasure and fear of our trick or treaters .
What does any of that have to do with Samhain?
Actually quite a bit.
By doing all of that he has created a place where people truly feel otherworldly when the tread our steps.
They feel fear and have to summon the courage to strive through that fear to get their reward.
That is the journey of Samhain.
Let me explain.
First a quick history of Samhain and how it has shaped the way it is observed today
First off, the word Samhain. Simply put it means “Summer’s End”. The Ancient Celtic year had 2 seasons Summer and Winter. The Year ended at Samhain
Early pagan life depended on a good harvest by summer’s end: they must have all they need filling there larders and root cellars and barns to ensure they and their livestock would survive the winter. There were no markets to run out to for bread or milk, you needed the wheat thrashed and stored safe and dry or there was no bread. It was a time to literally take stock.
Samhain is the final of the 3 Harvest Sabbats of the Pagan/Wiccan calender. The 1st two being Aug 1 called Lugnasadh, and the second on the Autumnal Equinox called Mabon.
Samhain is the last. It is the deadline. Whatever was left unharvested was plowed under to feed next year’s soil and eventual harvest.
At Samhain the seeds must be chosen and stored. Animals culled, some for food and some to propagate for the nest year. Choices were made that our ancestor’s very lives depended on.
Things are a little easier for us now. But we still feel the urge to wrap things up at this time of year. We pack up our summer clothes and pull out the winter ones. We bring in our houseplants from their summer's outside. We clean up the yard and stack our wood for the fires. We still feel the pull to sleep a bit more, eat a bit more and curl up with a book on long cold nights.
I truly believe this is instinctual, the shorter days tells the animals and plants to prepare for the winter, of course we do too, it is in our DNA.
Modern Wiccans and Pagans also see this as a time to think on the past year, all the projects you have sewn and cultivated. All the friendships, arguments, losses and gains you have accumulated over the year.
Is there something you no longer need? Something you wish to banish from your life forever? Samhain is the time for such harvests and banishments.
It is the time to cull what no longer serves you.
Samhain gives us the one time we can truly look Death in the eye. When we can embrace it as the wise Crone who will be fair but stern and help us to look at ourselves and that which we need and that which we do not.
And who better to ask to assist us in this spiritual harvest then our own wise ones who have gone before us?
At this time of seasonal transition,
The veil between the worlds is at its thinnest. We can speak with our beloved dead. We honor them with feasts. We ask for their guidance in our harvest.
This is not an easy thing to do. It takes a lot of courage to remember our dead. It makes us feel sad and lonely, but our memories make us smile as well.
It takes courage to take a look at ourselves and let go of old habits, old patterns of behavior that no longer serve us. These are hard choices.
But the treat!
When we remember our dead we also remember our love for them.
When we let go of that which we no longer need, we make room for new adventures to take shape, new ideas to grow.
The trick is having to face our fear of change. Our fear of the unknown. And the biggest fear, what if we get nothing, what if there is no candy? There’s only one way to find out. Tread the steps, face the witch at the door with the cauldron and look inside.
Think about the things you want to bring into the cold dark time with you. The blessings of those who have gone before, a positive outlook, what will serve you in the coming time when we a re close to one another by the fire. Do we bring anger and bitterness and fear into our stores? Or do we bring happiness, release and courage into our larder.
Today we will do just that.
Here is how it goes.
Each of you was given a rock when you came in. I encourage each of you to take that rock and think on what you would like to get rid of. What no longer serves you? And when you are ready please come up and drop it in the bowl of salt and water. This is your release.
Then light a candle as a beacon for your ancestors, honor them and listen."
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
6 Years
Really?
It's been 6 years?
This is the first year I haven't woken up and wept. Am I getting numb? Used to it? Has the ongoing cluster-F of Iraq worn me out?
I remember someone saying "on 9/12/01 the President could have completely galvanized the nation, could have asked ANYTHING of us and we, in our unity of grief, would have done it."
He could have said to Detroit: no more fossil fuel;to the world: no more genocide. The world came to us, with love and sadness and said what can we do? The President could have said: we can mourn, grieve and then stand united against ignorance, intolerance and hatred.
In the immortal words of the late great John Belushi:
"BUT, NOOOOOOOOOOO"
He told us to go shopping.
The myopic,ignorant,greedy,zealous,jingoistic WEASEL who had STOLEN the office treated us like a bunch of scared hens; while in the meantime he stooped to the level of extremism, fundamentalism and terrorism and ushered in, (how it pains me to write this) almost a decade of fear.
Man, am I fucking tired of it.
Mary, take me away...
The Summer Day
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
-Mary Oliver
It's been 6 years?
This is the first year I haven't woken up and wept. Am I getting numb? Used to it? Has the ongoing cluster-F of Iraq worn me out?
I remember someone saying "on 9/12/01 the President could have completely galvanized the nation, could have asked ANYTHING of us and we, in our unity of grief, would have done it."
He could have said to Detroit: no more fossil fuel;to the world: no more genocide. The world came to us, with love and sadness and said what can we do? The President could have said: we can mourn, grieve and then stand united against ignorance, intolerance and hatred.
In the immortal words of the late great John Belushi:
"BUT, NOOOOOOOOOOO"
He told us to go shopping.
The myopic,ignorant,greedy,zealous,jingoistic WEASEL who had STOLEN the office treated us like a bunch of scared hens; while in the meantime he stooped to the level of extremism, fundamentalism and terrorism and ushered in, (how it pains me to write this) almost a decade of fear.
Man, am I fucking tired of it.
Mary, take me away...
The Summer Day
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
-Mary Oliver
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
On The Mend
Cranking Foo Fighters "In Your Honor" on my new (I'm the last human on earth to get one) ipod.
On The Mend
Beautiful.
What helps me mend?
Time. Mostly.
And acting. So this is a short entry because I've got some major lines to memorize.
So, to all of you who give a shit:
"I'm here, and I'm on the mend."
On The Mend
Beautiful.
What helps me mend?
Time. Mostly.
And acting. So this is a short entry because I've got some major lines to memorize.
So, to all of you who give a shit:
"I'm here, and I'm on the mend."
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
A Little Help From My Friends
Here's what a new friend of mine wrote in response to my brief "Acceptance entry"
"Acceptance in this situation indeed in MOST situations, is kind of like when you are wandering through the house, say, intent on going to the bedroom to get a pair of socks, and in passing a table you happen to look down and SEE that item or gizmo you KNEW was lost or misplaced somewhere inside the place... but you'd long since given up looking for."
As he is a new friend I did not lash out with my usual No-BS-Rose (an actual nickname of mine) retort. I do try to ease into the no hold barred truth with new friends, give 'em a chance to build up their calluses to my callousness! (yes,yes very clever)
Anyway, his metaphor made me cry. Not, I'm sure the way or reason that he may have intended.
See that metaphor described my ENTIRE relationship with my Dad. Forget the gizmo, I don't even have any socks anymore!
I keep getting condolence cards and phone calls from people who knew my dad at different points in his life. They tell me about what their common thread was, while I listen, dutifully, and then hang up and yell at my kids or husband or dog; because...
because I have spent my LIFE trying to weave that thread. Just an easy one, movies, books, f-ing food ANYTHING.
But what we had in common was sometimes being too much with this world.
I found a way (thru amazing friends,a career in a business that caters to humanity and all it's messy emotions, a nonjudgmental spirit path and considerable amount of therapy)to deal with that.
My poor dear dead father did not grow up in a world, social or career-wise, that allowed for that kind of nurturing exploration.
Maybe that's his legacy to me. Maybe, just maybe (and I mean maybe)I am, what he would have wanted to be.
Maybe I am his secret heart.
Goddess
I only wish that were true.
"Acceptance in this situation indeed in MOST situations, is kind of like when you are wandering through the house, say, intent on going to the bedroom to get a pair of socks, and in passing a table you happen to look down and SEE that item or gizmo you KNEW was lost or misplaced somewhere inside the place... but you'd long since given up looking for."
As he is a new friend I did not lash out with my usual No-BS-Rose (an actual nickname of mine) retort. I do try to ease into the no hold barred truth with new friends, give 'em a chance to build up their calluses to my callousness! (yes,yes very clever)
Anyway, his metaphor made me cry. Not, I'm sure the way or reason that he may have intended.
See that metaphor described my ENTIRE relationship with my Dad. Forget the gizmo, I don't even have any socks anymore!
I keep getting condolence cards and phone calls from people who knew my dad at different points in his life. They tell me about what their common thread was, while I listen, dutifully, and then hang up and yell at my kids or husband or dog; because...
because I have spent my LIFE trying to weave that thread. Just an easy one, movies, books, f-ing food ANYTHING.
But what we had in common was sometimes being too much with this world.
I found a way (thru amazing friends,a career in a business that caters to humanity and all it's messy emotions, a nonjudgmental spirit path and considerable amount of therapy)to deal with that.
My poor dear dead father did not grow up in a world, social or career-wise, that allowed for that kind of nurturing exploration.
Maybe that's his legacy to me. Maybe, just maybe (and I mean maybe)I am, what he would have wanted to be.
Maybe I am his secret heart.
Goddess
I only wish that were true.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Depression
Yuck.
That's really all there is to say about that.
Like layers of paint on a canvas, color over color over color thick mess of crap.
(Hmm sounds a bit like anger is still around)
I keep wanting to be done with it all and then immediatly turn around and cling to the grief like some perverse life raft.
If I'm still grieving he's still present in me somehow.
I write that and Goddess knows, I know I'm not the only one who's felt this way.
But I don't want to cry and be taken care of, and I don't want to yell "why"
cause, -duh, -mortal
And then I want to be a little girl who can simply be hushed back to sleep cause it's all a bad dream.
Wow, does this suck.
That's really all there is to say about that.
Like layers of paint on a canvas, color over color over color thick mess of crap.
(Hmm sounds a bit like anger is still around)
I keep wanting to be done with it all and then immediatly turn around and cling to the grief like some perverse life raft.
If I'm still grieving he's still present in me somehow.
I write that and Goddess knows, I know I'm not the only one who's felt this way.
But I don't want to cry and be taken care of, and I don't want to yell "why"
cause, -duh, -mortal
And then I want to be a little girl who can simply be hushed back to sleep cause it's all a bad dream.
Wow, does this suck.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Anger
on the radio "Don't Give Up" Peter Gabriel Kate Bush. I gotta put my head down for a minute.
Ok Anger:
Here's how it's manifesting for me
1. Electronics- cell phones, ipods, anything with a f-ing battery because they keep dying at the most inopportune/ironic/ass kicking times. It is a wonder that they are not littering the roads as I grit my teeth and scream at them.
add that to,
2. I have been behind a. a dump truck or b. SUV driven by an old person; all going 20 miles an hour- ON EVERY ROAD I've been on, regardless of posted limit.
Probably a good thing tho, as I've developed a wee bit of a lead foot in my grief and anger.
Let's get down to it shall we:
The concept of anger has been drilled out of me as an actress- you don't play anger you recognize the the source of it (usually hurt) and play your character's response to it.
My Best New Old Friend, a really good actor, totally called me on that. He said "No, don't do that. Anger has it's place." Wow is he right (and yes my phone died in the middle of our conversation)
He talked about his parents deaths and how it simply makes no sense.
I've been thinking about that.
Sure there's the regret which I've previously expressed, things left unsaid. etc.
But it's more it's like the world is off.
Off kilter, tilted. Like gravity has been replaced, or displaced. There is no way to prepare for someone who is supposed to be immortal to go.
My ipod, even in shuffle keeps playing Hendrix "Castles in the Sand"
Even at 41 I guess a part of me thought, however delusional, that even when my dad died, I'd at least be able to call him now and then.
Not being able to makes me mad.
I guess that's anger.
Ok Anger:
Here's how it's manifesting for me
1. Electronics- cell phones, ipods, anything with a f-ing battery because they keep dying at the most inopportune/ironic/ass kicking times. It is a wonder that they are not littering the roads as I grit my teeth and scream at them.
add that to,
2. I have been behind a. a dump truck or b. SUV driven by an old person; all going 20 miles an hour- ON EVERY ROAD I've been on, regardless of posted limit.
Probably a good thing tho, as I've developed a wee bit of a lead foot in my grief and anger.
Let's get down to it shall we:
The concept of anger has been drilled out of me as an actress- you don't play anger you recognize the the source of it (usually hurt) and play your character's response to it.
My Best New Old Friend, a really good actor, totally called me on that. He said "No, don't do that. Anger has it's place." Wow is he right (and yes my phone died in the middle of our conversation)
He talked about his parents deaths and how it simply makes no sense.
I've been thinking about that.
Sure there's the regret which I've previously expressed, things left unsaid. etc.
But it's more it's like the world is off.
Off kilter, tilted. Like gravity has been replaced, or displaced. There is no way to prepare for someone who is supposed to be immortal to go.
My ipod, even in shuffle keeps playing Hendrix "Castles in the Sand"
Even at 41 I guess a part of me thought, however delusional, that even when my dad died, I'd at least be able to call him now and then.
Not being able to makes me mad.
I guess that's anger.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Bargaining
First of all She's getting me.
The Radio Witch that is: started this and she put "Ripple" by The Grateful Dead on the radio.
ok Bargaining.
We'll get to Anger when I can give it words, right now it's just roiling about in me.
What is "bargaining" exactly? I imagine some delusional haggling. Or shopping.
Denial- got it. Anger- you betcha. Bargaining? Wah? Filene's Basement? Flea Markets?
Or is it more about fantasy? Maybe if _________ happens it will ease my loss.
maybe I'll be given a box full of secret messages to me. All my reviews- clippings of my achievements. Letters never sent telling me how he was proud of me. Amazed by me. A box of photos of him and I, that I've never seen. Maybe journals with long entries of how he wished he could have said this and that. Paintings I'd done, childhood poems; every card and note I'd left on his desk. Poems about my wedding, my children, love and regret and redemption.
Perhaps that is Bargaining.
Makes sense that it's followed by Depression, cause there is no box.
What they don't tell you is that the "stages" are really the arc and shape of the waves. Not some f-ed up checklist/checkpoint but just words to identify the crazy that you feel. That I feel. Depressed, angry, anxious, mad, anticipatory, light-headed, impatient.
It's all I can do to keep from drowning.
The Radio Witch that is: started this and she put "Ripple" by The Grateful Dead on the radio.
ok Bargaining.
We'll get to Anger when I can give it words, right now it's just roiling about in me.
What is "bargaining" exactly? I imagine some delusional haggling. Or shopping.
Denial- got it. Anger- you betcha. Bargaining? Wah? Filene's Basement? Flea Markets?
Or is it more about fantasy? Maybe if _________ happens it will ease my loss.
maybe I'll be given a box full of secret messages to me. All my reviews- clippings of my achievements. Letters never sent telling me how he was proud of me. Amazed by me. A box of photos of him and I, that I've never seen. Maybe journals with long entries of how he wished he could have said this and that. Paintings I'd done, childhood poems; every card and note I'd left on his desk. Poems about my wedding, my children, love and regret and redemption.
Perhaps that is Bargaining.
Makes sense that it's followed by Depression, cause there is no box.
What they don't tell you is that the "stages" are really the arc and shape of the waves. Not some f-ed up checklist/checkpoint but just words to identify the crazy that you feel. That I feel. Depressed, angry, anxious, mad, anticipatory, light-headed, impatient.
It's all I can do to keep from drowning.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Denial
“The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them--words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out. But it's more than that, isn't it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you've said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That's the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.”
- Stephen King
My dad and I used to send the above quote back and forth to mend our bridge that we would burn and rebuild through the course of our lives.
My Dad died Saturday.
Ok, perhaps I’m still in the Elizabeth Kubler Roth stage 1 –Denial. Because I write that and feel an inappropriate giggle bubbling around my heart.
Because it simply cannot be true.
My Dad was a formidable giant in my eyes. I think I have always seen him from the perspective of a 7 year old (the age my son is now, the age I was when my dad left, the age I was when my mother’s father died)
One of the last dreams I had about my dad; he was enormous, like a Macy’s Thanksgiving day balloon. Huge, bombastic somewhat foreboding..
He was going to die within the next 5 years or so, his lungs were slowly failing, but instead had a heart attach while vacationing earlier this month, in Las Vegas. I flew out to see him in the ICU, on a ventilator and told him I loved him. He held my hand.
There were important things to say that I didn’t get a chance to.
I suppose there’s a stage for that.
I am curious about what Roth meant about bargaining. I’m going to take it as shopping.
Retail Therapy as my dear friend calls it.
The radio witch has been kind, she has yet to hit me with “Old Man” by Neil Young. But on the day he died, actually in the moment he died she put “Wish You Were Here” on the radio while driving with my family on vacation. (yup I was on vacation, actually on the return home when he died) And then my step mom called while we were checking our bags. On the plane I drank beer and listened to the XM radio and once again heard “Wish You Were Here”.
My dad and I spent many years estranged; on and off; me in my 20s, him in the bottle.
Now in our 40s and 70s we finally were able to talk about love and life and regret.
We had just found the way to each other’s secret heart.
And then his stopped.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Blessing Moon
Blessing Moon
So according to my Witch’s Date book tonight’s full moon is called the Blessing moon.
The moon will be full at 8:43 PM EST in Aquarius. Aquarius’ energy is that of uniqueness and change.
The ritual for this full moon, it seems to me may seem opposing itself but hear me out.
Sometimes we get in our own way of receiving blessings. We feel we must jump through hoops and prove ourselves worthy. Under this is the fear that we are not.
That we are worthless.
This full moon gives us the opportunity to get out of our own way. By letting go of conflict (whether internal or external) we open ourselves up to change.
Resistance to change is fear. Give it its name and look at why? What would happen if you got what you asked for?
I’ve been wrestling with this one A LOT lately. It has come to my undeniable attention that I am loved and respected. At the ripe old age of 41, I have been faced with my true Shadow –Myself.
I spent many MANY years hurting others before they could hurt me, pushing away love, sabotaging a promising career and acting out of fear.
That time has past, and I look back with enormous sense of loss and sadness that I hurt and cheated myself.
The intense grief and remorse that I feel has been beyond measure and at times I have felt I am drowning. Yet I must surrender to it. If I do not I will never feel forgiveness and gratitude.
In short I will never allow myself to receive my blessings.
Quite the full moon huh?
Blessed Be
Friday, July 27, 2007
20/20
Yesterday I got my new soft contact lenses. I've worn hard for 25 years and switching was a long process. Uncorrected I am 20/400, in layman's terms -blind as a freaking bat!
Today, I'm 20/20 for the first time in my life.
I'm also in the process of having the last permanent bridge put in my loud mouth.
So what. you ask?
Well, for most of my life I've had dreams of my teeth falling out (which eventually they started doing -genetics)
But the dreams were pretty disturbing.
After some research I went with Carl Jung's explanation:
Teeth represent power. Ancient man, upon killing a beast would remove its teeth and wear them as a symbol of taking the beast's power. We, in the present, tap into that ancient memory and ritual through dreaming. Our "bat phone" to the collective unconscious.
So here I am today with a full mouth of teeth and clear vision.
And yet
And yet
I am restless....
Today, I'm 20/20 for the first time in my life.
I'm also in the process of having the last permanent bridge put in my loud mouth.
So what. you ask?
Well, for most of my life I've had dreams of my teeth falling out (which eventually they started doing -genetics)
But the dreams were pretty disturbing.
After some research I went with Carl Jung's explanation:
Teeth represent power. Ancient man, upon killing a beast would remove its teeth and wear them as a symbol of taking the beast's power. We, in the present, tap into that ancient memory and ritual through dreaming. Our "bat phone" to the collective unconscious.
So here I am today with a full mouth of teeth and clear vision.
And yet
And yet
I am restless....
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Radio Witch
Definition:
That entity who’s magic is exhibited in the cosmic occurrence of the ABSOLUTE right song at the right time being plucked from your brain and put on the radio.
You know exactly what I mean.
Today she got me with Suzanne Vega's "Marlena on the Wall". 1986 college Theatre college. Madly in love.
Prior to that nugget she hasn't let up:
we've had, oh let's see:
Scar Tissue -Red Hot Chili Peppers
Hold On - KT Tunstall
Sea and Sand - The Who
Whole of the Moon -The Waterboys
too many others
Life has become about boundaries. But not walls or fences or even lines in the sand.
More like sacred circles, protected yet open
never broken
Evolution of a priestess I suppose. Or a soul. Or a mom. Or a me.
That entity who’s magic is exhibited in the cosmic occurrence of the ABSOLUTE right song at the right time being plucked from your brain and put on the radio.
You know exactly what I mean.
Today she got me with Suzanne Vega's "Marlena on the Wall". 1986 college Theatre college. Madly in love.
Prior to that nugget she hasn't let up:
we've had, oh let's see:
Scar Tissue -Red Hot Chili Peppers
Hold On - KT Tunstall
Sea and Sand - The Who
Whole of the Moon -The Waterboys
too many others
Life has become about boundaries. But not walls or fences or even lines in the sand.
More like sacred circles, protected yet open
never broken
Evolution of a priestess I suppose. Or a soul. Or a mom. Or a me.
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