Grief and Conflict

We are humans, all of us.  Regardless of our spiritual paths or our religious beliefs, we are not immune to the truth that death is a part of our experience.  We will all lose people we love and we will all have to work through our grief over those losses.  None of us get a pass on this in life.  

Seventeen days ago, my younger brother died unexpectedly and suddenly.  We have shared more than one lifetime together, as well as our bloodline.  I loved Him and we had conflict between us, and we stopped working on our relationship about two decades ago.   

Sometimes we will lose someone we love without warning, with no time to prepare or to say our farewells.  And as is the nature of relationships, either family or lovers or friends, sometimes that loss will be of one with whom we have conflict.  Love and conflict are more often companions than mutually exclusive conditions.  For conflict with one we do not love is often reason enough to walk away from another person but, we will persist in spite of conflict if we love another.  And so, grief is often complicated by unresolved conflict with the one we loved and lost. 

We each grieve in our own way, and in our own time.  For me it is a delayed experience.  For the first two weeks, my perception of reality was surreal, often blurry and out of proportion.  Then life became normal again and my grief began to visit me at night.  When all is quiet and my mind can identify what my heart and soul are actually grieving and, my heart and soul can feel that grief, it is the conflict that I feel, and the pain of that conflict and the anger that it exists. 

Another conflict that accompanies grief is that in moments of unexpected emotional crisis, old habits of behavior, old patterns of relating within the family, reassert themselves.  Conscious effort is required to recognize these habits and patterns and to re-establish newer skills and ways of being.  It challenges my sense of self, and forces me to reexamine my relationships with those whom I love who remain.

I have work to do.  Including the work of reaching out to Him whom I have lost to assist in what way I can, and to ask Him to work with me to make some peace between us before the next life we share.  May our Ancestors and my Gods and Allies bless us and assist us in this work.  Blessed be. 

Despair is the enemy of change...

This past week has been a difficult one for many, including me.  First there was the shock of the shooting itself.  Then came the grief and anger and fear, the frustration and desire for retribution, and the insult of erasure.  

   

The sheer stupidity and incredible ignorance of the public discourse was almost unbearable if you even bothered to listen, which truth be told, I did not. Because I knew it would be dreadful and I refused to subject myself to it.  But I am aware of the effect it had on those I love.

I do not advocate willful ignorance.  Hiding one’s head in the sand is not a practical solution to the ills of our world but, I can spend five minutes a day in research to discover the facts of what happened and to get confirmation that the reactions of the ignorant and hateful factions of our society are indeed what I had suspected they would be.  I refuse to spend the precious substance of my life, my time, exposing my soul to the wasteful and damaging effects of hate-speech.

I am angry that someone massacred forty-nine people.  Forty-nine of my fellow humans died for no other reason than the hate of another damaged human.  I am angry that those who have a voice are ignoring the fact that those who died were members of a community that has historically been targeted for violence and that has not been protected by those who are entrusted with the defense of the people.

I have loved ones who have been a part of that community for decades.  I too identify as a member of that community, I identify as Queer, although I am not seen as such by almost anyone.  I am angry at the erasure of identity being practiced by those with a public voice in the discourse surrounding this tragedy. 

But the worst thing of all to me is the despair I witness in the hearts and souls of those whom I love.  Two beloveds in particular have spoken words of despair this week, one young and straight, the other gay and middle-aged.  Despair does not discriminate.

Despair is the enemy, make no mistake.  It is normal and natural and completely understandable and I do not ridicule my beloveds, for their despair is a familiar shadow.  But Hope is needed and Faith is necessary.  We cannot affect change, and we need change, if we hold no Hope.  Despair robs us of our will, our energy, our purpose and our joy.

I know the world is a dangerous place.  I know that much of our society is ignorant and operating from a place of fear and hatred.  I know that much of our human race is ill and damaged.  But I believe that we are not beyond Healing, that we are not beyond Hope.

I have Faith that the majority of the human race is not represented by the voices shouting hatred at the top of their lungs.  Indeed those voices are so loud that they all but drown out the voices of our higher angels with their “Sound and Fury”.  But they are indeed idiots and their words signify nothing.  I have Faith that we can continue to affect change, and healing and the positive evolution of our species and our society if we keep working, struggling, fighting, believing.  I believe that we can indeed re-enchant the world so long as we do not give up Hope.

I am not delusional, although I may be stubborn.  And if the world chooses to see me as simple or sentimental because I choose Hope and Faith, so be it but, I will not despair, for despair is the enemy of change and I am a champion of Hope.  

Survival

This summer has been an amazing season of growth, self-exploration, and self-discovery.  I have been learning a great deal about who I am and how to be All of who I am.  My forty-ninth birthday is just around the corner, my work on my third degree has moved from the first steps to the beginning of the path, and I have begun to See how my visions of my future might come to pass. 

But I have also had to look at the past, in this life and in others.  And I have come to see that I am a Survivor.  I am proud of that.  Survivor does not mean victim, it does not mean wounded, it does not mean damaged.  Survivor means Strong, it means ALIVE, it means Unconquerable and Unbreakable.

In this lifetime I have Survived;

Clinical depression,

Suicidal obsession and attempts,

Compulsive self-medication,

Self-destructive patterns of high-risk behavior,

Sexual assault,

My own Rage,

Compliance with the decisions of others,

The loss of my children,

Two years under the power of an extreme, militant, fundamentalist, baptist preacher and his followers.

Years of silencing my own self and hiding from my own power,

And the voices in my head that are, and that are not, my own.

I am ALIVE, I am Happy, and I am finally beginning to live my life the way I was meant to all of these years.  I have Survived because I am Stronger than any of those things. 

My Gods, my Ancestors, my Allies, and my Community have all had a hand in helping me to learn to live but, I am the one who Survived to learn. 

I share these things with you because, if you are reading this, you might be living in shadow, you might be looking for the candles. You might have experienced depression or assault; you might feel that you are weak, or damaged.  You might believe that dying is your only option to end the pain, or the fear, or the despair.  You might even think that you deserve nothing good, and that you are destined to be alone and in pain for the rest of your life. 

But I would point out that, you have Survived.  If you are reading this, you are Alive.  You are a Survivor!  You are Strong and Unconquerable, and Unbreakable. YOU are the Beauty to be found in the Darkness!  Nothing is stronger than that!

Fragile-Handle With Care

Humans are incredibly fragile creatures.  Just a moment of disruption in the development of the fetus can be the difference between life, or still-birth, or defect and dysfunction.  Just a few moments without enough oxygen can cause permanent brain damage or death. 

But even when the body and brain develop without traumatic injury, without physical disruption of any kind, the soul and the heart and the mind can incur damage that remains unseen to the casual observer.  Indeed these wounds can become infected and fester unacknowledged by the wounded, unrealized even by those who love them.

We can interact with others whose souls are damaged to the point of death and never know.  We can unwittingly contribute to the damage they have suffered, and because their own defenses are so fragile, one, small, unintentional unkindness could be the last assault that kills their souls beyond the possibility of healing.

We cannot know the state of another’s soul.  We cannot know whether the person we encounter in a chance moment of our mundane life is sick unto death.  We can only live each moment to the best of our ability. 

We can choose to live mindfully and consciously.  We can choose to live with kindness and generosity.  We can choose to handle our Earth, its creatures and our fellow human beings, and yes, even ourselves, with care.  We may never know if that small kindness is the moment when the damage ends and healing begins.  

Blood Magick

Blood is a Magickal substance.  It sustains life, in ways no other part of us can. It delivers oxygen and nutrients to all the cells of the body.  It can be given to others to sustain life, without damaging the giver.  It carries our DNA, our genetic code, the pattern that connects us to our ancestors and our descendants.

Blood marks the thresh hold between childhood and coming of age.  It is the place that the beginning of life is formed.  It flows at miscarriage and birth.  And it stops flowing at the time of change, when we are no longer capable of creating life.

It flows when we are injured, whether from a skinned knee in childhood or from some traumatic event, whether accidental or combative, or at the moment of initiation into the mystery of sexual awakening.

Without it flowing freely through us, we die. It is the essence of life. It carries our life force.  It is that part of us that is most quintessentially ourselves.

I sacrifice a drop of my blood every morning to test my sugar to maintain the health of my body.  I also sacrifice a drop or two to my Magick on occasion.

It is a part of me that I can give to my Magick, to my Gods, to my Ancestors, to my Allies, without causing permanent damage to my body.  It is the most direct way to connect to those spells that are of utmost importance to my life.  My Magick is at least as important to me as my health.  My Magick is as personal to me as my body.  My blood is an essential part of me, and it is mine to give as I see fit.

If you are healthy enough to donate blood to the Red Cross, consider the Magick that you are giving to your community.  Consider the Magick that saves the life of a stranger.  That is a spell worthy of a Great Witch.

Annwfn

Annwfn is the Underworld in Welsh mythology.  It is the home of my Ancestors and of my Patron.  It is the place our souls go after.  It is a place of shadow and of beauty.  It is a place of warmth and rest and pleasure.

Our Spirits are connected to the entire cosmos and as such they have a destiny that is one with the Greater Earth.  Our Spirits are eternal.  They reincarnate over and over.  They move forward and evolve from incarnation to incarnation.  At death, they pass from the individual into the Summerland and, after a time, they move on to the next incarnation. 

But each life is a new experience, a new person, a new body and mind and heart and soul.  I will never again be this person.  I will never again have this unique life.  This body, this soul is a gift that will never be duplicated.

When my body returns to the Earth, my soul will not die, but will return to its source in Annwfn and become one of the Ancestors of my clan, of my tribe.  Annwfn is not only our soul’s destination after incarnation but, also the source of our soul and of our genetic pattern, that gives form to the body; that gives structure to the mind and heart unique to the individual as well as the family group.  Annwfn is the womb of life as well as the afterlife. 

Spirit is eternal, but without the body and soul of the individual, Spirit would have no way to evolve.  Our souls are a part of the process of evolution.  Our bloodlines are as well.  Annwfn is the home of those souls and those bloodlines.  We are all in this together.  

The mysteries...

For the past month I have been focused on trying to understand some of the secrets my shadow keeps from my conscious self.  In that time I have been dreaming incessantly.  It has been very disconcerting and has had me more than a little spooked.  At one point I did not sleep for three days.

One of my beloveds has suffered a loss and is grieving.  My heart breaks for this dear one and I weep for them often.  One of my beloveds has begun a new adventure and I rejoice for their excitement and new life.

I spent a wonderful October morning walking in the woods with my sister and High Priestess “solving the problems of the universe”. And an evening under the full moon around the fire with community, wanting to climb out of my own skin.

I attended the beautiful wedding of two cherished young people and was greatly moved by their love for each other and that of their family and friends.   The desire and hope for that kind of happiness was rekindled inside my soul and I hold onto my faith that it is possible with every bit of tenacity that I possess.

I have discovered a young poet who moves me with his voice and his eloquence and his passion more than I can describe because I cannot reach such heights as he although his words lift me up to breathtaking crescendos. 

And my beloved granddaughter was born eight weeks early.

My reactions to all of these things seem to me to be out of all proportion.  My immense joy at the birth of the first of her generation of my bloodline is overwhelming.  My heart seems to be exponentially smaller than it needs to be to hold the love I have for her tiny self.  And although she is very little in the physical sense, she is larger than the entire solar system in my other perceptions.  She also seems to have the magickal power to cause me to time travel.  I find myself reliving her mother’s birth and the pain of separation and all of the “might have been”s that we leave behind in order to live in the present and walk into the future.  And time travel seems to flow in both directions at once.  I feel as though forty-five years is not nearly enough time to love her enough, to teach her enough, to become the woman I want to be for her. 

Dreams and desires, grief and adventure, love and passion, birth and separation, time travel and death.  These are the mysteries and these are the shadows.  These are the lights and the beauty that may be found in the dark nights and sunny days. 

May the blessings of both be with us all as we travel through the dark of the year.