Unwanted

So, it seems my social calendar has suddenly emptied itself out.  On Tuesday, I extended to a friend an invitation to my home for today, which at the time I thought was accepted.  So I had prepared to make a nice meal and even bake something nice for dessert, but upon touching base with my friend last night, she was no longer able to come.  I assume that in her mind, the plans were never finalized, since she had felt no need to advise me of the schedule conflict until I reached out.  I sometimes wonder what it is I do wrong to cause these misunderstandings to happen.  In any case, I am having a quiet day by myself today instead.  It's probably just as well; I was probably destined to be embarrassed by my clutter.

At literally the same time as I was finding this out, yesterday, I received a message from my sister-in-law to let me know she was not going to host a Thanksgiving celebration this year.  As a corollary, this means I am definitely not invited to her celebration, since she isn't having one.  She said she needed to find her "new normal" in her new life without her sister.  I said it was probably just as well; Thanksgiving was Jo's favorite holiday, and I doubt I will be feeling celebratory that day either.
(For some reason it does make me wonder if there is a larger context to it, and whether it's a sign, or a hint, that she and I might end up going our own separate ways after all.  I think the loss of her sister is incredibly painful for her, maybe the most painful thing that has ever happened to her, and if what I am is a reminder of what she has lost, then maybe that would be just as well too.)

I checked my email last night, and there was an email in the UU mailing list asking for another participant in the special Samhain service that the Earth-Based Spirituality (aka Pagan) group is doing this Sunday.  I replied and said I could do it.  Today there was another email that said they had filled the opening, with someone other than me.  I wonder what it is I did wrong when I tried to sign up for the Earth-Based group, that I wasn't included in the planning in the first place; I don't remember ever getting a message about it.  It's probably just as well though; I'm not even sure I want to go, so I'm not sure why I was volunteering for it, other than thinking that I'm a Witch and I am surely capable of helping with a Pagan service.
It's also probably just as well because the truth is, even though I've been asking about it at church, I've been having mixed feelings about sharing the details of my spirituality with other Pagans.  I guess I worry that it'll just end with a bunch of Wiccans trying to tell me all the ways I'm doing it wrong.  Which wouldn't change me, necessarily, but it would feel like yet another rejection.

I end up thinking, it actually might be just as well if I just plan to keep to myself for the most part.  I do have a lot of work to do if I'm ever going to actually get my home in order.

Of course, then the bad side of keeping to myself is the thing that Joanne was most scared of before she met me:  Now that I'm alone, if something bad happens to me, I rather expect nobody will notice until I fail to show up for work.

Reclusive

I'm feeling very withdrawn and reclusive this weekend; other than a possible trip to the grocery store, I rather doubt I'm going to go anywhere.  Probably not even to Facebook.

When I think about it, it seems strange that I write here when I'm feeling more private, because since I never make public posts on Facebook, it is arguably far more private than this blog, which is fully accessible to anyone who finds it.  I think it comes down to the expectations; Facebook is a "social media" site, so when I put something there, there's the expectation that the social circle will see it and give it little 'thumbs up' or 'heart' symbols or maybe type a little comment.  I can put something here with the expectation that nobody but me has to ever see it; and if someone does find it, and read it, and hopefully get something out of it, there's still no unspoken 'obligation' for them to say anything to me about it (although they could if they wished).

It also seems telling to me that the times when I feel withdrawn and reclusive are also the times I feel the most spiritual--and following from that, it is very interesting to me that it seems the times I am feeling the most spiritual are also the times I am least likely to want to go to church.

I think it's because, for me, spirituality is a very personal and private thing; it's something I can only fully experience alone.  (I knew I had really found my one true soulmate when I realized that I was able to feel spiritual 'together' with Joanne.  Being with her was very much like "alone time.")  A spiritually fulfilling day for me is the day where I stay at home, light candles, put on my apron, put my Cauldron on the stove and get a big pot of chicken stock (or something) started, and just be in my Kitchen, and my Cottage, all day.  And it's the quiet times in the days like this when I feel like I can reach across to the other side, and have a conversation with my love, who is no longer here physically, but spiritually still is.

I suppose that, even though it sounds backwards, it's really no true mystery.  Going to church is a very social thing.  Even for a progressive non-dogmatic church like the Unitarian Universalists, going to church is religious, not spiritual.  You get together to share ideas about how to find your spirituality, or how to express it, or to join with others to do the positive things in the world that your spirituality draws you to do.  But you don't go there to be spiritual while you're there.  (Or at least, I can't.  Maybe there are people who can be social and spiritual at the same time; maybe those people get something different out of it than I do.)
So if I'm feeling the need to be spiritual, this weekend--the need to draw down the spiritual energy, to recharge, and once again become a Force of Nature--then that is what I will have to do, and then I can go back out into the world once I am ready again.

Preparedness

According to the forecasts, in about six hours, there is going to be a big windstorm here, which is predicted to cause widespread power outages.  The news is being rather dramatic about it this time; they're even comparing it to the infamous-in-these-parts 1962 Columbus Day Storm, which supplied the region with wind gusts of up to 160 miles per hour.  (It was likely more than that, but many wind gauges were destroyed by the wind and stopped measuring things.)

I'm as ready as I'm going to be able to get for this time around; I have my kerosene cookstove brought in and set up, and all the non-electric lamps in the house are ready to go.  I took a go on Thursday at stocking up on some things that'd be easy to cook on the kerosene stove, like soups, pasta, and that sort of thing; unfortunately, as happens when you wait until the storm is announced like everyone else, the shelves had been picked over pretty well for things like canned goods and staples.
I don't necessarily expect to lose water service since I am on a public water supply, but I did fill my empty canning jars with water just in case they might come in handy.

So, I'm probably at least as prepared as anyone else around here.  But, I sit here this morning and think of all the ways I could have been even more prepared.  I haven't bought any kerosene for over a year, and I am down to about half of what I originally stocked; I could have had a better plan for keeping fuel in stock.  I have some canned proteins in the form of tuna and salmon, but it could have been nice to have canned my own chicken or ground beef to have in the pantry.  I could have a better plan for stocking emergency water, dry goods, etcetera.
And of course I could have had the tree service people out this summer so there weren't those one or two worrisome trees that have the potential to fall over onto the house.

None of that is meant to "beat myself up" for this time around, of course.  But, it sounds like a worthy and satisfying goal to work on after this current 'crisis'; it'd be nice to be able to know I'm well prepared for a power or water outage--all the time, and not just when the storm is announced--and just not worry.

On Sexual Assault

My mind has been in a very odd place today.  Mainly it has to do with Donald Trump and the "Access Hollywood" footage heard-round-the-world, although I am going to do my best not to make this directly about politics.  Like everyone else, I found Trump's words--and even more than the words, the ease with which he said them--extremely jarring and unsettling.  But it wasn't until I found the tangent news story, about the author who started a movement of millions of women sharing their sexual assault stories, to put faces to the women--no, the victims--like the ones that this man was bragging about being able to "do anything he wanted" to, that my mind went to its dark place.

That particular dark place is there because, sadly, I was able to add an experience of my own.  If my love Joanne were here, she would be able to add hers as well.  I may be the only person she confided it to.

Before, when the story was just about the "hypothetical woman" that was the subject of the 'locker room talk', it was jarring, but at least it was over there.  But by taking me back to that place, now, suddenly, he is talking about me, he is talking about my Joanne.  Now I hear him say that he, through the power of his fame and popularity, can grab my crotch with impunity, and I would be powerless against him.

Unfortunately, experience tells me it's true; even with no more authority than being the children of the head of my church, my abusers had the hopefully-unwitting support of my parents, who at the time characterized my protests about going to evening church services as "the Devil trying to tempt me away from Jesus."  So I have no doubt that the then-celebrity really did have the impunity he believed he had.

I'm watching the debate tonight, and I can tell my point-of-view has been altered.  Where before, I might have seen a 'bully,' tonight I see an abuser, a predator.  I notice him interrupting, domineering, making sure to position himself behind Ms. Clinton, looming in the background as if to use his size and stature to intimidate.

It occurs to me that there's probably really no such thing as a "bully."  All that is is a 'cute' name for an abuser.  "Bullying" is just abuse that, by semantics, is being minimized into something less threatening.

Bulls and Bears

On Saturday I had a brief conversation with a friend and coworker about the stock market, in which I casually mentioned that I had "lost $5,000" the day before when the market had a selloff.  It felt like a fun thing to say for conversation's sake, but it's the wrong way to look at it of course; I actually had exactly the same number of shares on Saturday as I did on Thursday.  I can't really lose anything unless I decide to sell the investments now for a loss, which would be very silly of me, since the retirement I'm investing for is another 15 years away at the soonest.  So the watching of the value is just an interesting diversion to me right now, it's going to go up and down and up and down a bunch of times before I'm ready to use it.  And historically, the long-term trend has always been 'up.'

Still, I keep looking at the charts, with the peaks and the valleys, watching the values go up and down, like it means something, which I suppose it does.  It occurs to me today, as my mood is experiencing a "downturn," that maybe it's a metaphor for the grieving and mourning process.  It isn't as simple as each day being just a little better than the one before.  Sometimes today isn't nearly as good as yesterday.  Sometimes the thing you bought for $80 is only worth $70 today; sometimes the thing that felt doable yesterday feels insurmountable today.
There are the bull markets, which are all full-speed-ahead and happy, right on out into the realm of "irrational exuberance" and that false sense of security, of indestructibility.  These are the good days, and you're happy to see how much progress you are making so quickly... but if you're not careful you can forget that things don't always keep going up, and you can commit more of your resources than you should have.
Then there are the bear markets, where things start going back down, or crash, or even lead way down into a depression.  Those don't feel nearly as good, and it can make it hard to have faith that the long-term trend is still 'up.'  It can make it feel like you just can't even do this anymore.  Everything was going so well!  What just happened?  What is the meaning of this?

At least in the stock market, often the best thing to do when things are down is to invest even more, even though it doesn't feel good to do it, because that can be exactly when the investment can do the most good--prices are down, so you get more shares for your money than you would during the happy exuberant times.
Maybe the metaphor means that on the 'down' days, when things feel insurmountable, then if I can find energy enough to 'do it anyway'--however small a thing 'it' might be, as small as finding strength to send a text to a friend, or even sitting down here to write a journal entry--then those are exactly the times it can make the most difference?

Claiming Space

It feels like for the past three years, and especially the past two after my extended run-in with the psychic vampire, I have very much been a Witch in name only.  Admitting this feels a bit like going to the stereotypical AA meeting:  "Hi, I'm Jessica, and I am a WINO."  But admitting it to myself is what I have been doing this past week.
I'd still been going through all the motions, of course; I always know what the moon phases are, and I mark the Wheel of the Year on the Solstices, Equinoxes, and the four Cross-Quarters (the 'real' astronomical ones, not the Roman-Calendar-ified ones--sorry, Wiccans), like a good little Witch.

But, it's all been very academic and intellectual; the very definition of, as I said, going through the motions.  Yes, I know when all the holidays are.  Congratulations, Jessie, you've grown up to be a fine calendar.
I'm making light, but I'm also serious:  Knowing when they are is a job for the paper chart on the wall.  Remembering what they are at their roots, and experiencing the spirituality of it, that is the job of the Witch.

I think I'm admitting this to myself now because it's starting to change--because my spiritual nature is reawakening, starting to heal from the damage that has been done to it.  If I had to point to an event that started the change, I think it would be the trip to the Mukilteo beach, being with the Water and putting my feet in it, sitting under the Moon, and sharing time with a good friend who is also a spiritual person (and, I'm beginning to suspect, a fellow Witch, though she hasn't said so).

Like I was saying to Joanne's sister last night, I think the most important thing I can do from here to help this change is to spend less time in the "virtual world," and get out into the real world more.  There's no spirituality to be had on the internet.  The closest thing you will find are writings that may remind your intellect that there is a spiritual world to be experienced, but in the end I do believe you have to step away from the keyboard if you are to experience it.
I need to go to the Water more.  To stand under the Full Moon and feel the cool moonlight.  To feel the energies of the tall evergreens, whose reach to the sky dwarfs my own.  Maybe one of these days, even go visit a Mountain.

Most of all, I need my soul to remember that, like the wind in the trees, like the water, like the mountains, I, too, am a Force of Nature.

Then, I will be back to truly being a Witch.

The Shining Half

Apologies to my sister for plagiarizing her old screen name for the title of this post; it seemed short, catchy, and appropriate to the subject.

As people around me have doubtless noticed, I've been off in a dark mood lately.  After yesterday's visit to Joanne's shrine at the columbarium, though, I think that is changing.  I had considered trying to message Jill to see if she wanted to meet with me while I was there, but I let time get away and didn't end up doing it; I think it was actually for the best for the trip (dare I call it a pilgrimage?) to be just about me and Jo, to be able to sit and have a quiet time to try to commune with her, and not be worried about what time it was getting to be or any of that.  I feel like it renewed and re-strengthened my connection with her.

I'm happy to be 'back into the light' for now, but I sort of have this feeling like it's my destiny to go back and forth between the darkness and the light for the rest of my life.  For the past couple of weeks, during my dark mood, I've said to myself over and over again that I feel like I have died already.  To an extent, it's true; while it's hopefully obvious I'm not literally dead, an important piece of me did die, back in April.  And a decade before that, I did experience what would be described as a "near-death experience."  So while I haven't truly died, it does feel like I have a bit of experience with it.

It gets me thinking, it feels like it's my lot in this life to be 'in between worlds' on a lot of different things:  Alive, but having experienced death.  Female, but having experienced living as male.  Pagan, but having experienced being Christian.  Maybe it's why that image of the asymmetrical being, the One-Winged Angel, light on one side and dark on the other, has always resonated with me.

(As an aside, I think it's interesting that the "dark side" is called the Left Hand Path in modern occultism; whenever I visualize myself as the dichotomous being, the "light half" is always on the left and the "dark half" is on the right.  It's probably just because I'm left-handed though.)

Spirituality, especially earth-based, Pagan spirituality, does seem to revere the dichotomy; light and dark, day and night, sun and moon, fire and water, wind and earth.  The Wiccan 'Charge of the Star Goddess' asks for the blessings of "beauty, yet strength; power, yet compassion; honor, yet humility; mirth, yet reverence;" all these are dichotomous phrases, and it is meant that the ideal is to possess both at once.
So maybe, hopefully, there is strength and not weakness in existing on both sides at once, the way I seem to be?