So today is a sad day. Ned Stark was beheaded, and I am missing my friends. One friend in particular. The one with whom I could just be. In any mood. Quiet and doleful, manic and fidgety. The one with whom conversation was easy, and my thoughts could be aired without censor. He knew I was mad in his eyes, and I knew I was mad in his eyes. So I could just be.
Here is new. I know many people, yes. And I am alone in my thoughts. Because no matter how much work I put in to train myself out of old patterns, trusting that I will not be humiliated for my ideas is the hardest old pattern to break. And yes. I fully believe that attack for ideas is because I am mirroring something that the other is triggered by. It is not personal to me. It is personal to them. And still, when feeling low of energy and low of mood - vulnerable - the fear is there, and the need to protect myself is strong.
I saw another friend today. Dinner at hers. It was a lovely evening. I spoke of my loneliness. Of the upheaval and change of this past year: leaving a marriage, leaving a career, leaving a home, leaving an area, loosing a child, the culmination of two years hard work in being ordained. My thirtieth year. My Chariot year. My Saturn Returns apparently. And full moon in two days as well.
I spoke of the biological imperative that has taken over my body. MUST REPRODUCE!!! Different and separate from my desire to be held, my desire to have sex! Oh so horny. My intellect say no to children. It always has. It still does. And yet I meet men and I find myself assessing their genes. Hmmm, good nose, good hair, strong body, intelligent ... The list goes on. Must find a family planning clinic and get on those injections before my body starts urging me to 'forget' to take the pill. Because, interestingly, the urge is not for children, but for pregnancy. For creating, housing, nurturing that small human form in which a soul can reside for this Earthwalk. In fully knowing the Woman/Womb power my body holds.
I left feeling heavy with sadness, at the awareness that even here, with this woman I respect and admire - perhaps because I respect and admire her - I was not fully at ease. Full of the tired weariness that fills the bones. And I walked. Taking the route home that lead me along the sea front. Hot chocolate on my mind. Come To Me Priestess the sea whispered. Come To Me Lady. Not tonight, not tonight. I am tired and I want to sleep I replied. Come To Me Priestess. Come To Me Lady she called. And I found my weary legs crossing the road to find the steps down to her, all painted in silvery blue she was and firey in spirit tonight.
I climbed down, and trudged onto the beach. The going tough as I met the unstable surface of the pebbles. Tread Gently Lady, And Your Going Will Be Easier. And my feet fell in step with the rhythm of the waves. Down to her edge. Down to where the water crashes on the shore. Down to where the pebbles dance and sing. Come Closer Lady, Come Closer. I came closer, dancing and jumping back and fore with every crash. You're Skittish Tonight Lady, she called, not un-mockingly, not un-kindly. Come Closer Priestess. Trust Lady, Trust. And I stilled. Planting my feet, I stilled.
Wave after wave crashed on the shore, stopping centimetres before my feet. Watch Lady, Observe. I began to see in the darkness the shelf beneath the waves which caused them to break. I began to see in the darkness the pull back of each forerunner that quelled the power of the next. I began to see in the darkness an awesome wave that gathered the strength of the previous ones, and rushed towards the shore, towards me. That one's going to get me, but trust she said, trust. No, no, that one really is going to Get ME! I skidded and jumped and dashed up the pebble shelf behind me with laughter bubbling up and a squeal, but not before she soaked my feet. Trust Lady, But Remain Vigilant she called with a smile in her voice. Trust Yourself As Well As Me ...
And a saying pops into my head: Tether your horse and trust in Allah, but tether your horse first.
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