SDC E – Discussing Death

So, yesterday’s bonding exercise was Hearing Attunement 3.

As I didn’t have any questions to ask, I asked him if there was anything he wanted to talk about. WhoooBOY was there.

He asked me what I thought about Death. That’s… a pretty big topic.

I started with the easy stuff. I died, physically, when I was hit by a car when I was 9. I was dead for over five minutes. It was the most wonderful, peaceful five minutes of my life to date. I found myself in a place that was black. There was no pain. There was no anger or hate or fear. There was no sound. There was no light. For an undiagnosed autistic girl, it was pretty much heaven. Imagine a world where everything is always too bright, always too colorful, always too loud, always too MUCH. Where people are too abrasive, they expect too much, and because you can speak in complete sentences, they don’t understand any peculiarities you have. Autism for me was an invisible disease. When I got overwhelmed by the abuse, got overwhelmed by my emotions, or just plain got overwhelmed for no reason I could determine, I had this need for space. If there was anything touching me, I threw it. And then I found the nearest wall, and rocked my forehead against it until I bled. It made people leave me alone, but it also gave me a point of focus – a HARD point of focus. I was HERE. Right HERE.

And that made things go still.

It’s not unlike a cutter needing a physical focus to express (as in send out) their emotional pain in a way that they can grasp… only for me, hitting my head against a wall wasn’t about the pain, so much as it was about trying to control the violence inside me.

For me, autism is violence. Everything is sometimes just too much, it’s so overwhelming… it’s violent. The whole world is violently THERE, and I can’t cope.

I don’t bang my head anymore… but the pain still exists.

Except when I was dead for those five minutes.

I understand, as an adult, that without all the negatives in that void, there was also no positive. There was no love in the void. There was ONLY peace… but when you find something that you need that badly, you don’t care about what’s missing. You only want to stay.

When they brought me back, it was a violent return. I was awake, on a street, in the daylight, surrounded by my entire neighborhood. I was being touched by strangers. I don’t remember the ambulance ride. They put me in a room with red lights, and they kept touching me, and everywhere they touched me it HURT… they thought I was screaming because I was frightened. My mother kept saying everything was ok, that they were just getting x-rays, but I couldn’t talk, and there were strangers TOUCHING ME, HURTING ME… and NO ONE WOULD STOP. Nothing was ok.

I was in the hospital for three days. Dad brought complete strangers to my room, apparently friends of his. They gave me a stuffed rabbit, because it was Easter weekend. I threw up on it.

I don’t remember the ride to the hospital. I don’t remember sleeping there. I don’t remember the nurses or the doctors. I remember the red room, and the pain. I remember waking up on the street, and I remember being in a hospital bed meeting strangers and throwing up on a yellow bunny. That’s all I remember of the weekend I died and came back.

Well, all I remember after the dark.

I miss the dark. I don’t think I ever won’t.

 

So… We talked about that.

We talked about my experiences in the Wastes – a spiritual and emotional death… and how that death affected me here. We talked about that kind of darkness… which was NOT peaceful. Then again, I wasn’t exactly at rest. People in the Wastes are not at rest.

 

I brought up my migraines – the ones I had before I died my second and third deaths. The ones that had me screaming, writhing, begging for death, an animal in a trap. We talked about how Death Means Stop.

I talked about the fact that Death Means Stop is pretty much a perfect cure for any phobia.

I went to California to see a friend when she was separating from her husband. On the way home, the plane suddenly stopped flying, and just DROPPED. It lasted 20 seconds, and people were praying and holding hands with strangers.

Afterwards, I was terrified of flying… until I remembered my migraines. And then all of the sudden, I realized there were worse things than falling out of a tin can in the sky… and planes stopped being scary at all.

It’s kind of a relief, knowing that someday, I will STOP.

 

So then he asked me what I thought happened after death, if death means stop.

I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean, I know what happened when I died at 9, so there’s that. I didn’t stop existing.

And I have memories of other lifetimes, both earthly and other. SO many memories. Sometimes that’s a bit overwhelming…

But that means that death isn’t the end. It’s… merely a stage. Like… adolescence. It’s not permanent any more than life is.

 

So he said, “If death means stop, but it’s not permanent, how is that Stop?” To which I said, “It offers immediate relief for immediate problems. Anything else can be solved another day.”

“How practical,” he replied.

 

Then he asked me what I hoped to learn from him, from my time with him. “I just want to learn. Whatever you’ll teach me. I want to grow. What you’ve helped me with so far… that’s growth I need, growth I want… knowledge I want.”

“Why do you want to know so much?”

“Because people suffer. Not knowing is suffering. We suffer until we learn, and then the suffering stops.”

He asked what I meant by that, because he understood I wasn’t talking about any Buddhist ideals, but he wanted me to clarify myself. So… I did.

 

I’ve been to hell realms. Not demonic planes, but realms set aside for humans who need help learning, need help to grow, even more than humans here do. The two I went to taught me a lot, though honestly, some of the lessons didn’t sink in until years later.

The first realm, there were towers in the center of lovely fields of close-cut grass. The fields were surrounded by dark forests, but no one ever noticed the trees. People sat out in the sun, and picnicked. They chatted as if nothing was wrong – everything was perfect.

And then, the sun began to set… and everyone packed up their things, and went into the black stone towers. Because when the sun went down, the world froze. A flash freeze. Nothing that was outside the towers survived.

People there learned the rules. They learned to obey the laws of the realm – because if they did not, they died. Immediately. You learned to obey, or you died.

My familiar at the time followed me there. When the sun began to set, as I was heading inside the tower, he ran under the steps and vanished. He left the realm rather than go into the tower. He broke the rules… and I was so terrified for him, that I broke our familiar bond.

I fear for people I care about who do not follow the rules. I fear for them so much, that I would rather cut them out of me, break their hearts, than let the consequences of their rule breaking break MY heart. I can’t watch the people I love suffer… so I won’t let them in, and then I don’t have to.

But that’s its own form of hell.

 

The second realm I went to, there was only a single person. There was an indoor swimming pool, and in it was an older woman, screaming, panicking, drowning. She couldn’t swim. So, I went in and fished her out. She immediately began to call me devil’s spawn, evil.. so much hate in this woman I had saved.

It was her lesson to learn to either not ask for help, or to accept the help she receives from wherever it comes, and be grateful.

It was my lesson to learn that you do not interfere with other people’s lessons without being forced to learn WHY THEY NEED THE LESSON. It will ALWAYS cost you.

I also learned that people ask for help when they should do for themselves, and don’t ask for help when they can’t do for themselves…. and neither path is healthy.

 

This is how I learned that people earn their suffering, create it, out of ignorance. And they either learn from it, or they keep suffering, stuck on repeat until they DO learn.

I don’t enjoy suffering. I understand that there are people who have to have suffering. They cannot learn without it. But… I’m ready to move past that. I want to learn, and grow, and not by suffering, but by figuring out where I’m suffering and why… and changing.

So that’s what I want to learn from him.

 

He then asked me to make some promises.

1) That I do something loving for my husband at least once a week that connects us in an emotional way, comes from my heart, and will be understood by his.
2) That I do something loving for each of my three cats once a week with the same meaning.
3) That I do something for MYSELF once a week that is self-care, showing self-love.
4) That I make slow improvements – right now, I have three basic tasks that I must achieve every day (aside from my meditations each evening). In three weeks, I must add a fourth task, every day. It does not have to be the same task, but I must add a fourth task every day.

 

Tonight, we were supposed to do the 10th exercise, Visual Sight Attunement 2 – but I came into the session with a migraine, and my familiar is brand new to showing up to every session, so she’s curious, into everything, and highly distracting… and with a migraine making it hard to concentrate to begin with, we decided that tonight was not a good night to work on my visual sight.

Instead, we worked with my other soul.

She has her own soul-home. Today, we worked to incorporate her soul home and mine.

It was fairly successful. My soulhome now has heavy mist from hot pools, and places where there are rivers of lava instead of water. Under the center, her cavern with its bathing pool of lava, has been incorporated, though I did some upgrades, which she liked.

I feel like… my soul home is my domain. It’s not really hers. Even now, with all the changes I’ve made to try and make her feel welcome, it’s not… quite right. It’s not finished. Something’s missing. So, she has her cavern, and it’s hers, even though it’s in my soulscape.

E said that we’re not blending correctly. We’re both afraid of losing ourselves, and so neither of us will give in. He says the only way to win this, is for both of us to lose. We both have to give in, we both have to give up ourselves… and become together, someone ELSE.

 

Oh… he saw the corpse in her glass coffin. He… didn’t approve. He talked to both of us about it. The thing is, she’s not dead. She’s definitely not alive – there’s no soul, no spirit, there’s nothing to animate the shell that’s in that coffin. But… she’s not dead, either. There’s something about a dead body that is immediately recognizable… and she doesn’t have it, whatever it is. Which means she’s not really a corpse, for all that she’s not alive.

This happens to faeries. But… we never figured out what to do with them… so… I did what my people have always done.

He was… a bit perturbed. Possibly repulsed. And he pointed out that if compartmentalizing her into a graveyard was so toxic, how was putting her in a glass coffin in a cave NOT compartmentalizing, and how was it NOT going to end up ALSO toxic? So… my other soul and I, with his help, decided what we could do about the situation.

And just as we were ready to put our plan in motion…

My familiar began to Kitten again, and yanked me out of meditation so thoroughly that I literally felt it like a shock of cold water. And then E was gone, and that was that.

Which means that tomorrow we’re probably not going to be working on Visual Sight, either. Because this isn’t finished.

 

Although… I think after tomorrow, I’m going to ask for a night off. This is some heavy work… and while I don’t feel rushed… I feel the need to… take some time and really marinate in what I’ve learned so far… look back on it all and, in a relaxed setting, try and see the whole picture. Get some perspective.

I’m going to make him take me dancing. He’s an excellent dancer, and while I look like a spastic seizure with twelve left feet on a human dance floor, dancing in the Astral is amazingly easy and I love it. Also… he has really, REALLY good brandy… so I think I’m going to drink his brandy and make him dance with me. Dancing with him feels… right.

-Raven

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HDC Tz

Today was Exercise 4, the first Visual Sight attunement.

I said the invocation, and then I asked Tz to stand in front of the wall. While I was looking, I had this sudden feeling of vertigo…. and the harder I looked, the more I felt like I was mentally falling through the wall. Finally it clicked… Tz was wearing his shielding.

That is some SERIOUSLY cool shielding. I couldn’t see ANYTHING… I just kept feeling like I was falling, and it made me want to Not Look. I can’t wait to learn it.

Anyway, when we were done with him playing with my eyeballs, I asked him if there was anything he wanted to talk about. He brought up my worries about my own internal balance. He made me look at my balance, and really ask myself if I had reason for concerns. He made me see that I was worrying over something that, yes, does happen to other people, but isn’t happening to me. He showed me that I can check myself at any time, and KNOW whether or not I’m losing my balance.

And then, he had me embrace the elemental cycles, just to prove it. We added water to fire, which made earth and air. And then I took in the essences of air, earth, water and then fire, and became each of them, which I have done before. Then, as before, he had me become them all at the same time, and find my balance there, in the center. Then, he had me become NONE of them, and find my balance there.

And there, we found a problem. We found that the brand, while no longer active, has left a scar, has maintained a connection, through the void.

I won’t tell you how we fixed it, but it IS fixed now. I am lucky that he had me searching my bodies and my balances so carefully. And I am VERY grateful for his presence and his help.

Finally, we ended it with a Family Celebration. I called out to all my family, spiritual and physical, and sent out the blessings of the Equinox to them. I also added four new people to the list, which was nice.

So – To my husband, my son, and my mother; to our three cats; to my best friend Telomar; to my faerie wraith, my demon wraith, my hellborn, my specialist, my angel of metatron, my throne angel, my enochian angel, my dosojin, my psychic vampire, my sanguine vampire, my incubus, my cecaelia, my winter court sidhe, my shadow elemental and my east watchtower, and to my three pairs of Temple Fu; to Akelta, Satan’s Hellcat, Velle, and Kitsune from the S&S forum…

Happy Autumnal Equinox. May this moment of balance which falls towards rest, and breaks with the sacrifice of blood on the snow, bring you rest, growth, and a good future harvest.

-Raven

An Ending

For years, I believed that you did things because it was all you knew. I thought you showed me how much you cared when you sent me food, cat toys, clothes, books, blankets weighted specifically to help with me with my autistic anxiety attacks, because you didn’t know any other way to show me – and I excused that because of how far away from each other we were… Even stranger, in the beginning when I kept telling you not to do these things, because I felt I would owe you something in return (because everyone always wants something in return for their charity), and because I felt that anyone who buys me things was attempting to buy my love (because it’s happened so many times before) – you told me not to worry about it. None of that was true about US. WE were DIFFERENT.

When my illness became so bad I couldn’t communicate anymore, you waited for me to answer your texts – even when it took months, even when my answers simply never came. Of course, you took me to task for my negligence of you, but you were always been the first to admit you are needy and greedy – and I always assured you that wasn’t the case. I agreed that I was the negligent one.

When I was so sick, I simply wanted to die, and you would tell me I wasn’t allowed to die until you were ready to go, yourself, I told myself that you were being loving… the truth is, telling someone they can only die on your schedule is cruel, and grasping. It is not caring when they’re experiencing what I went through. It’s just more emotional torture added to the experience.

In exchange for all of this perceived care, you received from me acceptance, and excuses for all that you were. I accepted the things in your life, and the things about yourself, that were out of your control, beyond your power to change. I accepted those things about you over which you DID have control, and yet still would not change. I occasionally discussed with you what I thought about how your choices, and lack of choices, were affecting your health – spiritually, physically, and mentally… but I never thought of it as judgment, or a request for you to change… I accepted you, wholly. You were who you were, and that was more than ok… it was wonderful.

While you were going through your separation and eventual divorce, I dealt with your constant  criticism of my relationship with my husband, and your frequent oblique references to your ex, as if my husband was cut from the same cloth. I always told myself that your negativity towards R was because you were so hurt… I realize now that there were other issues you had with my happy relationship – one was jealousy… our relationship is significantly healthier than yours was, and I am happy with my husband. The other issue was one of ownership. Every time I mentioned a problem I had, your immediate response was to tell me to run to you, come live with you and be your only person… you never included my husband in your offers unless I brought him up. In your mind, I belong to you, and with you, and shouldn’t be happy anywhere else, with anyone else. When I look back on conversations where you talked about my husband, I feel very manipulated, emotionally. That is not something a friend would do. 

When you expressed an interest in my husband, I was open about it. I know what happens around you when you want things and have to be sneaky, and that is not what I wanted for any of us. When, to protect myself and my relationship with my husband, I laid your desires on the table, you were angry. Part of it is that you enjoy sneaky theft, but a larger part of it was your deep, abiding fear of rejection. Seduction works for you. Bluntness leaves you too open, too revealed. It terrifies you. 

Of course, you and your therapist decided I was a raping raper who pushed you towards things you swore afterwards that you didn’t ever say you wanted. You looked good from that angle… and I took the fall like a good dog. 

When I agreed to take a stronger roll in my own life and power, and in yours, I asked for one thing from both you and the Universe. I asked that I no longer carry the blame for those things that are beyond my control… and you failed to keep your oath.

I experienced something I did not understand, and I came to you for help. You laughed at me, and then you told me that what I’d done (even though it was something beyond my control) was stupid, and that it was going to cause you harm, and that maybe next time I found myself in such a predicament, I should take a moment to think about the larger picture, and all the facts, before I do something like that again.

In other words… you blamed me, and you chastised me. 

You seem to think you gave me information I was unhappy to learn. I was glad to learn what my power had done. I was happy to understand. What pissed me off was your attack of things I had no control over, your blame of me. It’s like yelling at cats for having hairballs or shedding. They have fur – to expect them not to have trouble with their fur from time to time is irrational, and to hold them accountable for their troubles is unreasonable and cruel. 

When I found myself in a situation where I was doing things, but didn’t know what was happening, or even WHY, and I came to you for help – you lorded your superiority over me, and told me, once again, that I think I’m just SO smart that I can do anything I want, because I’ll always find a way out of it. Except that you know that’s not true, and that’s not how I think. This is not the first time we’ve had this EXACT discussion… or even the 90th.

The truth is there are moments in my life where I am fully aware of everything going on around me, yet I am not the one in the driver seat… It appears to everyone else that I am in complete control of what is happening, and yet THAT’S NOT ACTUALLY ME. I move, speak, change the world, and everyone sees my face, my mind, my hands; everyone hears my voice. It’s still not me. I do agree that I’m fully conscious in those moments, where time and the multiverse seem to take a breath, before a sudden wave of power and will changes everything completely… and the epicenter is absolutely me, but I am still not the architect – and saying that I am is like saying I’m to blame for the sun rising.

It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I say this to you – you refuse to understand it. No matter how many times I tell you, “I wasn’t thinking anything at all – there wasn’t an opportunity for me to think, ‘Maybe I shouldn’t do this,’ or ‘Wow, the ramifications of this action make it inadvisable…'” – you STILL insist that because I was there, and the action happened through me, that somehow I could have stopped it, could have changed it… and that next time this happens, I should take control and make it NOT happen.

All this, while also telling me that one of my biggest issues is that I try to control everything (though of course anyone who consistently has their life turned upside down by a puppet master universe would OF COURSE have control issues) and that I should stop “insisting that the system behave the way I want it to,” WHILE you’re simultaneously telling me I should have more control over myself.

The final straw, I think, was that when I asked, you, no… BEGGED YOU to PLEASE attempt to see what was happening to me from my perspective so that you would understand why blaming me for this type of shit is so hurtful, ESPECIALLY COMING FROM SOMEONE LIKE YOU WHO HAS BEEN THERE, TOO… 

When I said to you that you do not seem to understand when I tell you with words, or when I write it down, or when you see it happen to me, but that you seem to ONLY learn by doing, so would you please ALLOW a flow of information to SHOW YOU, BY YOU DOING IT YOURSELF, and you told me I was asking you to be raped – more than that, you told the world that I WANTED you to be raped, that I insisted on it… despite the fact that both of us have been in situations where we were not in control of what happened to our bodies, and neither of us would EVER wish that on ANYONE, EVER… that accusation was just it for me. 

The moment you said that you were not interested in experiencing my world for yourself, I said, OK. I stopped asking you for what I needed, and tried, ONCE AGAIN, to explain IN WORDS what I go through, and you called it a lecture, and then you threatened me – and then you followed that with some incredibly passive-aggressive bullshit.

That was the moment I realized how toxic you are.

I find it interesting that when I won’t do my job, I’m a horrible person, and when I do my job, I’m to blame for the things that happen through me. You call what I asked you to try and experience “Rape.” This essentially means, when you asked me to take back my power, you were asking me to accept rape… and now you’re blaming me for the results… and telling me I’m a rapist because I asked you to attempt to view things from my perspective. What I hear you saying is that it’s ok for me to be raped, and for you to blame me, but it’s not ok for you to emotionally, spiritually, or mentally support me while I endure what you have asked me to endure.

All the gifts in the world don’t make up for you calling me a rapist because I asked you for understanding – asked you for something EVERYONE NEEDS. All the food in the world would not make up for you being ok with me experiencing what you consider to be rape, and also being ok with blaming me for the results. All the pretty dresses, all the plush toys, all the blankets in the world, don’t make up for you greedily telling me that I don’t get to die on my own schedule, but yours. All the visits to organize my medical care, all the offers to pay for various therapies, don’t make up for you lying to me about so many things, and then blaming me for not knowing anything. 22 years of friendship doesn’t make up for you continuing to blame me for shit I cannot help, while doing your damnedest to remain as pure as the driven snow.

That’s about as pure as the shoveled shit. You have betrayed me, abandoned me – every time I have become homeless it has been because of you and your choices. Every time I’ve moved across country, except for the very last, it has been to suit your desires – to either have me, or to throw me away because you found something better for a little while – and the one time I have moved by choice, and for my own reasons – the one time I’ve managed to maintain a stable life for an extended period – when you finally realized what you had chosen over me wasn’t going to work for you anymore, you began trying to emotionally blackmail me into changing my decision.

Do not reply to this post. Do not call me. Do not email me. Do not send me another single thing in an attempt to make yourself feel less guilty for who and what you are, and all the betrayals you have heaped on me over the years. I do not want you – in my life, in my power, in my future – we are not family, we are not friends… and I don’t care enough to even want to be enemies – because you’re not even worth THAT kind of energy.

I have forgiven you, accepted you, loved you… and you have lied to me, accused me, blamed me, betrayed me… and all of this, for the last time. I’m done with you.

 I’ve blocked your phone number and your emails. We’re done. I got help and removed my power from your family line, untwisted our fate, and separated our godhead. We are now two, on two separate paths. I have paid you what I owe, and washed my hands of all of it. 

Thank the gods we’re over. That was the silliest 20,000 years of my life. 

Supercook and IE 9

So I use this recipe engine, Supercook. It’s a really great engine. But I just switched from Google Chrome, which had some pretty bad security issues, to IE 9… and suddenly Supercook doesn’t work.

However, maybe if you’ve never used Chrome, it will work for you.

You tell it everything you have in your kitchen, and it tells you what you can cook… gives you recipes from like hundreds of other recipe websites, like allrecipes.com, or food.com, or marthastewart.com… but it will only give you recipes you can make based on what you have… or it will suggest a shopping list if it can’t find anything.

Seriously… give it a try… You’ll love it. I’ve been baking off it for months, and kept meaning to tell you about it.

So I’ll keep using Chrome, for this one site… I love it that much.

Love you…

To Protect Children – Magickal Correspondences

 
To overcome a bad childhood: Plant – Valerian; Goddess – Atlanta

To recover from a bad childhood: Color – Pink; Stone – Pink Calcite, Rose Quartz 
To protect the happiness and welfare of children: Goddess – Sasthi 
To protect a needy child: Goddess – Akonadi 
To comfort sick or distressed children in crisis: Goddess – Yemaya 
To help children after accidents or trauma: Plant – Sweet Potato 
To increase a child’s emotional security: Charm – Teddy Bear; Potion – Chamomile Tea 
To protect small/young children: Plant – Fava Bean; Goddess – Artemis, Kwan Yin, Yemaya; God – Legba 
To defend children: Goddess – Boldogasszony 

To protect children: Moon; Animal – Bear, Cheetah, Musk Ox; Stone – agate, alum, amber, coral, malachite; Metal – Gold, silver; Plant – Angelica, Dill, Flax, Putranjiva Seed; Goddess: Artemis, Athirat, Bast, Boldogasszony, Brigid, Cairene, Hariti, Hecate, Isis, Kishi-Mojin, Sasthi, Sekhmet (The Great Cow Who Protects Her Child), Ursula, Yashoda; God – Acat, Bes, Chang Hsien (Protector of Children), Jizo; Evocation – Hariti 
To protect children from bad influences: Stone – Citrine 
To protect children from danger: Stone – Coral 
To protect children when they leave home: Goddess – Abeona
To protect children while sleeping: Plant – Garlic; Goddess – Cardea 
To protect small/young children: Plant – Fava Bean; Goddess – Kwan Yin, Yemaya; God – Legba 
To protect teenagers: Stone – Citrine 
To save a child’s life: Goddess – Isis; God – Maximon, Thoth 
To take care of children: Goddess – Renenet 

To prevent child abuse: Goddess – Isis, Kali 
To protect against child abuse: Goddess – Kali, Sekhmet 
To prosecute child abuse: Goddess – Isis 

To avenge abuse: Goddess – The Crone; God – Bran, Hephaestus 
To protect against abuse: Color – Black; Stone – Jasper, Lapis Lazuli, Obsidian, Smoky Quartz; Plant – Dragon’s Blood, Frankincense, Laurel, Saffron 
To recover from abuse: Plant – Onion; Goddess – Rhiannon

 
 

Family

I have a question for you, valiant readers… it’s a small question with a long answer. For you, what constitutes family? 

Over the many years, I have reevaluated this word many times, and I still am not quite sure how to explain it, but I’m going to try. 

Family is the word I use for the people I love. Not necessarily those I’m related to, but the people without whom I could not be myself. I would be lessened by their loss. That you are perusing this suggests that you probably are a member of mine, or I yours, or both. (I hope it’s both.) 

 
I can see the faces of my family in my mind.
My sister and best friend MB from Boarding School when I was 13.
My sister and best friend KF in High School. We once planned to raise our kids together, commune like.
My almost-best-friends DR and RH, also from High School.
My friends from Delaware, who were with me for the worst part of my life – T and R, RO’N, DP, my sister TB.
My sister and best friend from TX, GMS, and my sister and best friend here in MO, KB, and S and J from the meet-up group, and finally, my student and almost son in St. Louis, M, and my friends in the apartments I live at – B, and TH.
It’s not a long list, but every person on it is part of my family.

We’re not blood relatives. There will never be a family reunion (outside of FB) where we all gather and catch up on what those crazy cousins did last summer. I will never give you a kidney and have it match, but I’ve given you something so much stronger and more valuable. I’ve given you my heart and my trust… and you have given me yours. 

 
No, we’re not blood. My blood and I have an uneasy relationship – for more years than I can count, we’ve often wished each other different, and only recently have begun to simply accept. Friends are the family you choose for yourself, and I know I’ve chosen well, and when I’ve needed you most, you’ve been there… and I hope I’ve been able to return the favor. With all the rough spots my blood and I went through, I owe you my sanity, and I owe you big. You’re the reason I still hope, and still love. You give me courage. 
 
Of course, there is the chance that you are reading this but we share no love. I appreciate the curiosity that motivates you, and I hope someday to change your mind. Or to be courageous enough to let you change mine… but I’m perfectly willing for that time to be as far in the future as it needs to be, to evolve naturally. 
 
Until then, and as always, we are… 
Love unfinished.

So – What constitutes family for you?
 

Resisting the Ending

If you’ve been reading the readings (lol) then you know what I’m going to be doing after the Holidays are over. Two questions… any tips aside from “Finish the rebirth process without carrying around your corpse”? And… will you help me while I’m going through it? You’re the only person I know who could.
At least now I know why I’ve been obsessing over everyone breathing. It’s because, subconsciously, I’ve been resisting my own passage for months.. alright, for a year and a half.
Damn.
Sometimes… I’m a little thick.

The Beginning

He looked at me, a little nervous. I can always tell when he’s starting to freak out, because his skin gets black highlights on it. I sigh, because I know we don’t have to have this discussion YET AGAIN, but it’s going to happen. I try to keep him happy, usually, but this is too important, so I’m left with letting him twitch, replaying verbal discussions he knows he won’t win because I’ve seen them all before he’s even thought of them.

"Are you SURE this is necessary?"

"She needs to know. What better way than to show her? She has to be given the CHOICE. As much of one as the two of us ever get. It’s that simple, and I’m going. This is too important. And she won’t cope with it without someone to sit with her."

"Why are you chosing me? You don’t trust me."

"In this, I do. Leave the personal shit alone." 

"No. If you want this, you will talk about it NOW. Or I will not go."

"There isn’t time, Desire. Look. I promise when I bring you back, I will talk about my trust issues, but I’m not discussing it now. I would rather not discuss it at all, because if I’m not your foodsource, then someone else is – and either answer is going to upset me, in different ways, and I’d really rather not talk about any of it until I know how I’m going to react other than to just squelch it all down. And any answer you give me changes nothing at all, so why even go there? Are you going to help me, or do I have to leave her there alone? You know she can’t help but touch things… and that far back, we might end up with no Jupiter… or something even worse. Someone has to babysit her and keep her occupied so she doesn’t go stircrazy."

"And you’re choosing me, and not Gabe. For what reason?"

"I trust you to keep her safe, and I know you have a healthy respect for her. Gabe would set her teeth on edge and get her actively trying to screw things up, if only to piss him off. Sooner or later, they’d end up fighting… and by the time they were done, we’d be down a universe. I need you. You, she at least understands and sometimes likes."

He frowned, but behind the expression, I could see him thinking it through. It didn’t take long. "Fine. But when we come back, you will have this talk. No more avoiding me."

I heaved a sigh. "Fine. Let’s go."

****

The landing was a little awkward. I’m not used to shifting more than myself, and we were moving through dimensions, through time, and through space, which is fun in a lab, but gave me an odd frission of fear when I realized that if I miscalculated, Desire would be at risk. We stepped back into normal space inside her atrium. While he considered the roses climbing on the back wall, I strode off towards the private areas – the roses were new, but I was too intent to admire the changes.

I took a moment to look forward, searching for her – in her own place, I didn’t truly expect to be able to do so, but we’ve always had an odd… echo of each other… sometimes rules made for everyone else didn’t include each other. I found her in the lab – she had a stick in her mouth and was glowering at the tech… I wasn’t sure which one it was, but he identified himself in his mind as Dayvid. When he looked up and saw me, he took the stick away, and left the room as quickly as he could, without running. I wondered if that was a bad sign, but wasn’t too worried.

"Hello, love."

"Hey. How’d you get in here?"

"Same way I always do. I walked." We smirk at the joke. "I actually came for you, this time. I want to show you something, in honor of your birthday," I smile. She isn’t fooled.

"It’s not my birthday. What are you really here for?" She’s got a look of frank appraisal on her face… clearly waiting for the bill.

"No, but it will be. Want to come see?" Ah… interest now. I smile, and hold out my hand. She looks at me a few seconds more… and then shrugs.

"Whatever… I’m bored here anyway." 

"Then I’m your girl. This will be the least-boring day of your lives." 

"Just us on this wander?" 

"Nah, I brought Desire. He said something about your birthday suit, so I let him come."

"Really?" she asked dryly. I could tell she knew I was putting her on… the last time she saw him, he had scuttled backwards in horror and crab-walked away, shrieking, sure she was there to take my head. It still made me giggle a little.

We swung by the atrium to pick him up – very respectfully, he bowed over her hand and called her Lady… why any of them call either of us that still boggles my mind… I roll my eyes and laugh when he bats his eyes at her – I don’t think she knows he’s being silly at all, but she catches on when she hears me snickering at him. "Do I follow you on my own?" She’s smiling now, the byplay amusing her, too. There’s a relaxed comraderie between us – it snaps in so easily – the gifts of a long line of friendships.

"No, I’m going to take us all. It’s probably safer that way." She shrugs – I can’t tell if she’s wondering how she’ll get home when she gets bored, or if she’s just accepting of my statement… she didn’t used to hide so much, but it’s been a long break between get-togethers.

I take a moment to drop ahead of them into the stream – physically I’m holding their hands to make sure they’ll be carried in my wake. When I’m ready, I reach back through time, space, and dimensions… I hook the moment I want… and PULL.

****

When we arrive, we arrive in darkness. No stars. No planets. Nothing larger than bits and pieces of leftover atoms. Her irises swell, and I know she can feel it, all around her. The death of a universe is a small moment – but of course she would know it for what it was. "What have you… SHIT! Where are we? WHEN are we?" 

"Chill, sister mine… you’re fine. Just breathe. It’s all OK. We’ve been here before. We will be again. What do you think Death and Time ARE? We’re the sisters of entropy. And this is your big moment. Well… one of them, anyway."

She frowns at my casualness, drowning in the feeling of the last quark dying. The silence and the darkness is… amazingly beautiful. I never get tired of the peacefulness… even though I know it won’t last… or perhaps BECAUSE.

That moment comes… and then there is nothing. I let her catch her breath. When she gets a little calmer and starts thinking of questions, I know it’s time to skip us forward. I bring them out at the perfect moment. You can feel it, like a gathering storm. All around, the flare of the tiniest elements of creation are gathering – you can almost SMELL the tipping point.

That’s the amazing thing… I never get tired of both… the end, and the beginning that arises from it. Entropy and creation… TIME… is a circle. It never ends. WE never end. We come apart, and then we are nothing. And then we are something… and then we are everything. It’s such a beautiful dance…

If it happens in the right order.

If it happens when it’s supposed to.

And then, without any preamble, with the suddeness that all momentous events have, there it is. That flare. The bang that starts it all, is a dark one. Light doesn’t happen until it gets far enough away from the singularity to catch on fire. And that is the moment I’m waiting for. The moment she was born. Or died. Or both.

The very moment the flare catches alight, the moment that streak of fire escapes the primordial gas that is the new universe, off to live, learn, grow, and return, she turns to look at me… a perfect expression on her face, and the echo of fire in her silver eyes.

I leave them there, Desire and Death… watching the new universe rise. I leave her thinking thoughts, remembering the circle… I leave her alone because there’re some things that are just too personal to share… even if I’ve been there before. 

I’ll tell her, later, about the O in her name. I’ll tell her how she has a choice. That if she goes home as she wishes, she’ll end… how if she waits for that perfect moment, just like me, she is an egg… the beginning held encapsulated within the end… I’ll tell her about Death and Time, the Sisters of Entropy. I’ll tell her about their husbands, Desire and Temptation. I think she’ll love that most of all.

But for now… I leave her, thoughtful and watchful, dreaming the dreams of the beauty and destruction around her.

But I’m the same way… it hypnotized me, the first time I saw it. It’s worth a second look.

Peanuts

Ankharra, a friend and student of mine IRL, just brought me every Laurell K. Hamilton book she has. Nothing like smut to make it all better when you’re sick.
Truth and Wicked are sneeringly disgusted in my choice of literature. Aparently they DO have to listen to it., and "Thats NOT the way it happened." No kidding.. lol 😛
The incubus is laughing at me. And them. A lot. And he agrees with me that at least the first few books were well-written, and the smut in the later books isn’t badly done. Nor are the explanations of love as a many-spendered thing (his words, not mine) poorly executed. He can think of worse ways for me to spend my time.
Gabriel is still rather shaken up, so he hasn’t gotten his sense of humor back. He’s looking for an asignment that involves blade work to distract him, at least until they move me. He WILL be helping with the move. I’m not sure how, but he was very insistant about not letting me out of his sight.
Marcus is away garnering information about my current difficulties, as per your own suggestions, May – and says thank you very much for the advice.

OH – it should be noted that I do not consider Astral Life to be unreal. Sometimes for me it’s actually MORE real. But unless you’re like me, walking between the worlds, you, my reader, probably don’t feel that way. In deference to your singular vision, if it happens on your plane of existence, I call it Real Life (IRL for short). If it happens in dreams or visions/meditations of the Astral… I’ll try from now on to say so if it’s not obvious just from the content. I hope that helps lessen the confusion for you as my readers. (All four of you. Thank you. I love you all.)

Last thing – for May – www.youtube.com/watch

I think that’s everything for now – all the comments from the peanut gallery. I might add to this later, but for now, I have a game-and-puzzle community night to go to… and I’m the one with the puzzles… so it’s off to the shower for me to get presentable.

Twitchy

I’m stuck. Strapped down to a table, the world passing me by.
I am NOT a good patient.
I want up. Now. I want OUT now.
I want to hunt down the answers to my questions.
I want to know what it all means!
Twitch… Toss… Arch… Grit my teeth…
PAIN…
I think I’m dying… please tell me this is your memory of rotted flesh all around me… tell me again that it’s you, not me…
Building body out of light from the feet up… Carefully drawing the bones, nerves, vessels…
Hoping I’m not dead.
I thought you said you could fix this? But I didn’t see you here…
Are you going to let me out?
Someone speaking… "Where would you go? Your legs aren’t attached yet. If you knew where, HOW would you go?"
"We should put her under. She’s not doing herself any good this way."
Footsteps walk away.
Footsteps walk back.
Pressure… and then darkness…
But I’m still twitchy.

Is there snow coming?

Kitty Go Splodie

So with a bit of growing back together, it’s easier to be conscious for longer periods of time. Of course my physical body feels like crap – but at least my astral body is under the influence of so many pain blocks that I’m practically paralyzed.. or is that the straps? I’m not allowed to move around at all (with good reason, as I’m not all grown back together yet) and they still can’t put me in the tank yet either. Still.. I can move my head. And my fingers. And my power. Which is new. I never knew I had that much power. I had no idea how much I was holding back.
But you’re probably confused. Mostly because… when it happened, I was too.
I don’t completely remember what happened, but they told me enough of it that I can unravel it for your viewing pleasure… if you like that kind of thing.

Firstly, having spoken with my combat teacher, I went and had a long thought. What he said bothered me, quite deeply. I’m not the kind of person who enjoys hurting others, and when someone shows me something I’m doing that’s wrong, I do my best to fix it. I’m a healer. If I’m part of the problem, I have to repair the damage… and then make sure that I never do whatever it is, ever again. So when he told me how much I was harming everyone by keeping them at arms length, by not trusting them or myself, by not letting them in, I had to fix it if I could.
So I went to Gabriel, and talked to him. I asked him if he agreed with the incubus, and he admitted that he did. Truth, who was in the room at the time, also agreed. Now deeply disturbed, I decided right then and there that I needed to do something about the problem, and asked Gabriel to help me open up a little, so that I COULD let them in. Now, I’m not quite sure why, but Truth decided he needed to stick around to watch my back. It’s possible that the work was going to be so delicate that neither Gabriel nor I would be able to spare any attention towards watching our backs. What I know for sure is that, even with the combat training I’m receiving, I’m not allowed to be left alone lately. There is ALWAYS someone watching my back.
But that isn’t really essential to know. It just explains why he was there.
So. There we are, in Gabriel’s hall, sitting Indian-style on the floor, and I’m sending my attention deep within myself as Gabriel guides me into opening up, just a bit, just enough, for now, to let them bond with me in a deeper way. Just enough to let them in.
So. I opened up a crack… and all the power I’ve been swallowing for who can count how many lifetimes.. all the emotions I’ve been suppressing ever since that first lifetime… it all came out at once… and it blew my body apart.
It threw Truth back against the far wall, giving him one hell of a crack on the head – but at least he was slightly off to the side when the blast occurred. He only got slightly singed. He’s going to be in bed for about a week… when he tries to sit up, he gets dizzy. But… it could have been worse.
He’s not a very good patient. He’s irritable and frustrated and bored and cranky. When it gets really bad, Wicked sits with him and makes jokes.
Gabriel… well, he has EXTREMELY fast reflexes… or the blast would have caught him full in the face. He’s still a little freaked out – he helped pick my pieces up to take me to the healers. I don’t think he blames himself – but I did hear him mumble something about channeling the blast and not being fast enough… so I’m probably going to have to talk to him soon.
The truth was, it’s no one’s fault.
It’s not Gabe’s fault. After all… he had no way of knowing it would be that bad. Nor did he know that there was a weakness, a fault line, already there, as a result of reliving the life and times of May as her librarian.
It’s not May’s fault for getting her own gaping chest wounds.
It’s not the Incubus’s fault for not knowing I needed to be protected from myself.
It’s not anyone’s fault… except mine. And even there… I don’t think anyone could blame me for not trusting myself. Not trusting my power. Not trusting my heart. Not trusting anyone else. Not after what happened the first time I ever trusted or loved. He burned my planet, and everyone and everything on it. He put out the sun and my planet froze. And then he obliterated it all – the whole solar system. Mad on power, poisoned at the very root of his being by his own magnitude.
But he didn’t stop there.
He destroyed every place I’d ever been, ever planet, every solar system.
And every soul he took, he obliterated… so that none of them could come back. He left nothing behind him but dust.
And in order to take him down, because I was the only one who could, because I was the only one who could get close to him, get INTO him… in order to take him down, I destroyed myself. I became nothing but the arm of knowledge, the arm of the Library. No thoughts of my own… possessed by the information, possessed by the Library…
And in taking him down, in the fight that ensued, the energy released in the battle to destroy him as he had done to so many others, well… that little universe went nova. It is no more. And I’m the only one left, I think, that remembers.
And the memory is a bitch.
So I stopped trusting. I stopped letting anyone in. I killed every emotion that might force me to let someone get close. And because my powers, ALL of them, channel through the empathy, that meant that I was swallowing my power. All of it.
So when I tried to change… well… Kitty go splodie.

Marcus says that when I’m finished regrowing my chest, and the energetic channels and chakras etc… that they will be reprogramming my reactions – the energetic as well as the psychological – so that this never happens again.
It’s just as well…
If I keep bottling everything in… sooner or later… someone’s going to die.
Sucks I had to learn it by blowing myself to smithereens. My chest and throat hurt like hell.

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Crossover and Snow

This is just a short record of the dreams I had today. The first dream you can just ignore, unless you’re May – in which case, pay attention and tell me what you think, please, because once again I am confused?

The first dream is vague – I escorted a man to Hades. Not hell. Hades. I don’t think he went anywhere dark or scary or painful or anything. I didn’t meet Clive. I’m not sure if this counts as another crossover of our accidental gift-sharing thing, May, because I just don’t remember enough of it to line it up with your own experiences. For one thing, I’m fairly sure that he was already dead, bodiless. Which is more mediumistic and not necromantic, and not a reaping at all. Lost ghost escort thing. Still… what we’ve seen is that we borrow each other’s gifts and abilities and mold them in new ways. If it IS your gift working through me, why would I see Clive at all, and why would the dead man need a body for me to help him pass over?
Who knows. Possibly, no one. This is a puzzle without an answer.
At least for us down here on the ground.

Second dream was more grounded. I saw snow. Big thick flakes, falling heavily. It was night. I was at home in Park Hills, not here in Arcadia with my son during my usual montly visit – which suggests the snow won’t happen until at least Sunday or Monday night, though possibly it could occur later than that. It was dark, and the parkinglot lights were on. Also, I remember being surprised that the snow wasn’t sticking. It was melting about a foot to two feet above the ground. Lastly – the previous snowfalls on the grass and in some areas of the parkinglot were still visible.
We shall see… if this turns out to be an accurate prediction, I will of course find this post and add a comment to that effect.

Bright blessings to you all…
POUF

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AVATAR

SEE THIS MOVIE. http://www.avatarmovie.com/ Seriously. See it. Preferably in 3D.
And just so you know, I have a friend who went with me. She can’t watch 3D movies – they make her sick. This is a new kind of 3D, and she had no problems. None. So see it. Trust me.

Also, in a completely unrelated subject… I can now sense when a graveyard is sick. And by sick I think I mean that the land has been poisoned or cursed. It makes my spine cave, my shoulder blades attempt to meet, and my skin crawl. I’m not exactly sure about what to do with the information though.
And I think I’m going to have to start studying some form of shamanism.
Yesterday I met Thanatos and Agni. The day before I met a woman who is a hunter for Death – or perhaps an eater of souls would be more precise. She doesn’t like me much.
I suspect the new abilities (which are actually old abilities I didn’t believe I had) will be easier to deal with in a shamanic framework.
I am discovering that mediumship doesn’t work the same way for everyone – and just because you cannot see and hear the dead in a way that someone else does, doesn’t make you less of a medium.

So that’s my news. Joy joy.
PS – I’m going to call you tonight. Don’t worry… I’m just going to ask you when a better time would be. I need a reading.

Hope your biofather is behaving. Bright blessings and happy holy days.

Darkness and Co.???

This is all I have… I know there’s more, but… it’s gone. Whatever the job is, it’s one with privacy lock on it – I don’t get to know shit.
I think I still owe you for the information you’ve already given me though.

“You’ve been disturbing my girl, you know.” We’re in my sitting room… the blue one is standing at the window, staring out at the gardens like he’s never seen a tree before, but he is focused completely on me, those odd eyes pinning me down. Every now and then a wave of sensuality washes over me. I think it’s rather rude, being as I don’t belong to him. My servant comes in with a tray, pot and cups laden with the scent of chai. For once, he seems to have gotten the whole “servant” act down, but I know he’s wearing most of the armory. He takes his place behind me, and waits.
“I needed information – answers I was not getting anywhere else. You know I’m good for it – even though it’s a personal debt rather than a patronage thing.” Feeling more and more twitchy with the emotion-laden air ruffling me inside and out, I get up and start pacing, wings arching protectively around me, spreading out, arching back again… The light is beginning to collect on the feathers. I hope it’s not hurting the demon, but it can’t be helped.
That is not in question. The problem is you cannot assume what she knows is what you need. What works for her does not always work for anyone else. And she’s worried she might be giving you misinformation. And why do you assume patrons are not involved?”
“Part of what she knows – and I know you know this – is based on our previous work together. She knows something about those contracts. And right now, she’s all I have. The contract I’m having issues with has been buried, and everyone’s been wiped. No one can even give me GENERAL information about it, let alone specifics… no one but her. Because right now she’s the only one who knows anything about how contracts might be written on me. As for the patronage… I never assume anything. Clearly, though this is personal, you’re about to make it decidedly not – or you and your blue friend would not be here. And if we’re going to discuss this politely, which I’m assuming we are, there being teacups out, it would be nice if you both would stop flinging sex at me for a moment.”
“Still as cold as ever, Lady. Very well… put your wings away, sit down, and have some tea. You may want to call your Goddess in for this – because I have a job for you now.”

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Handfasting on Halloween

So, even though I actually have several pagan friends who got married on Samhain, I’ve always thought it a bit strange… you know, starting a new life with someone, surrounded by the dead? It always seems odd to me. However, I chalked it up to people just liking to thumb their noses at the "acceptable" wedding customs and loving the un-canniness of mysterious and ghostly things. Personally, if I’m getting married on a pagan holy day, it’ll be Beltane or Litha, for the obvious reasons.
Now, having read about this particular wedding, I think that perhaps, it’s quite a beautiful thing. This couple, both in their fifties, have lost many of their relatives and friends, and they decide to marry on Samhain so that the people they love who are on the other side of the veil can be there with them to celebrate! 
Me being a little bit of a hopeless romantic, my throat got a little tight… and now I think that maybe, just maybe, there’s more than just a need to make a statement, or for the creeps.

So…
Bright blessings on your Halloween anniversaries this year… and enjoy the articles that show you’re not alone.

wildhunt.org/blog/2009/11/lets-get-handfasted-on-halloween.html

For The Rabbit I May Never Meet

Found this for him… perhaps he’ll find it amusing. I didn’t think this poem was particularly good, to be honest… but I saw the title and read the first two verses and thought of your friend. Maybe he’ll like it better than I did – or at least get a hoot out of it… It certainly seems to be a lot about him (when it’s not about nothing, that is).

Tragic Rabbit
Tragic rabbit, a painting.
The caked ears green like rolled corn.
The black forehead pointing at the stars.
A painting on my wall, alone

as rabbits are
and aren’t. Fat red cheek,
all Art, trembling nose,
a habit hard to break as not.

You too can be a tragic rabbit; green and red
your back, blue your manly little chest.
But if you’re ever goaded into being one
beware the True Flesh, it

will knock you off your tragic horse
and break your tragic colors like a ghost
breaks marble; your wounds will heal
so quickly water

will be jealous.
Rabbits on white paper painted
outgrow all charms against their breeding wild;
and their rolled corn ears become horns.

So watch out if the tragic life feels fine –
caught in that rabbit trap
all colors look like sunlight’s swords,
and scissors like The Living Lord.

Stan Rice
Some Lamb (1975)

Queen of the Damned by Anne Rice, c 1988, 1997

Oh, yeah… I keep trying to call you but there’s always someone here… and considering some of the things I really want to discuss with you (and can’t possibly mask as an RPG thing) I’ve been waiting until I have some privacy. Hopefully that will happen tonight. I’m going to tell everyone that I’m not feeling too great and that I’m going to bed early. That should free me up this evening to talk – but I have to warn you… the conversation will be weirder than usual due to a profound lack of sleep coupled with the left-over effects of Monday’s migraine medication – which kicked ass and made me very… manic and high, to be honest. EW. But I’ll tell you about that, too, when I call tonight.
Be well and rememeber I love you… and lately I need you more than usual, as one of the few people I can talk to about the “woo” factor. lol

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