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Showing posts from November, 2015

Wild Happiness.

I write a lot about my grief and sadness, mostly because the tougher emotions are what inspire me to write. I do this, sometimes, as an alternative to sitting with the tough feelings, which is difficult for me. It's vastly easier to be cognitive and analytical and wrap my pain in words to get it out. To think about my feelings, describe them and categorize them rather than just have them. I'm working on that.

That said, I've also found writing cathartic, and a good alternative to self-destruction. I don't claim that it's art, but I think a lot of artists feel this way.

I also don't narrate my happiness out of respect to my husband: "Look how happy I am without you!" seems disrespectful, thoughtless, and insulting, so I usually default to "I am peaceful and well" when people inquire about my state of being.

I am happy. Wildly Happy. Having a dance-party in my living room and laughing to the soles of my feet with my children happy.

I'm happy, …

Today's Prayer.

Oh, Lady. Give me the peace that passes all understanding today, in this season approaching the dark.

Help me hold my center in this storm.

Help me not be so sensitive. Let me think gently of myself, so it doesn't hurt so much when others are thoughtless.

Remind me that this process, and my journey, are mine, and I chose it. I chose to survive. I chose to grow. I chose to walk, step by step, off the edge and into the abyss and grow my wings on the way down. I choose every day how to do this. Remind me that the point I'm at is just fine, without anyone else's approval or "likes".
I don't need the world to tell me I'm doing well.
Remind me that therapy doesn't make me mentally ill any more than going to church makes me a sinner.

Remind me that my children are mine and lovely and whole and the center of my world, even when they are away from me half of the time. Remind me that there is a cord that connects us at every moment, and that wherever we are, our hear…


Samhain is the New Year for those who follow the old ways.

I opened the windows on the west side of the house, and put candles in the windows for my mother and my grandmothers. I made the foods we ate for Mabelle's funeral feast: Hot chili, cornbread and apple crisp.

I swept the porch and re-set the wards on my doors.

I cleaned and dusted my altars, and removed things I didn't need anymore.

Part of closing out the old year is thanking the earth for another bountiful summer, preparing to be inside for the coming months by simplifying, and and laying aside your strength and supplies for the fallow season to come. Remembering your ancestors and those who have passed and what they taught us in life, and continue to teach us in visions, dreams, and memories.

Letting in the New Year demands embracing the darkness that approaches: the winter is a time of rest and recovery, and of moderation. When supplies are low, rationing is indicated. (This is why the two major fasts (Advent and Lent…