Posts Tagged hope

Halloween Magic

October 22, 2022 at 9:00 am · Filed under Druidry, Personal ·Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The urge to tell a story rises…

Years ago, when I was starting to explore the Pagan path in earnest, I remember finding a spell that I wanted to perform. I can’t remember what it was, but suspect it was to help me learn more as I stepped forward. To actually Do Some Magic.

I headed into the nearest town with a witchy shop; then found most of the items I needed in cheap homewares stores. I remember lemon candles, which have always had particular associations since (and have become oddly hard to find).

Some herbs, coloured cloth. I also can’t remember where I found the spell list, but know it must have been a book, because the internet wasn’t that big at the time.

(I once looked up ‘witch’ on eBay around the and found five items. Yup.)

I came home on the bus, watching the world pass by. I remember that clearly: from the parks to the busy Saturday streets. The quiet house with only me in it. Setting things up, sitting quietly.

Again, I don’t quite remember much more. I rather wish I’d kept a journal from that time, but it wasn’t entirely clear to me what I should put in one. Was it a diary or a recipe book?

The feeling of what Should was strong. Right ways and wrong ways of doing things. Some of what I was told is laughable when I recall it, but at the time there was no frame of reference.

This year, so much time later, I sit this Saturday morning, again in a quiet house. My husband is sleeping, as are the dogs. I have a cat keeping guard on my lap. And I just listen, feeling what’s in the air.

It’s not about the Stuff any more. I’m at a point in life where I Should be in a good job, earning decent money – but I’m not and I don’t. But that’s not by everyday standards. Normal People standards.

The journey I’m taking with my kind therapist as guide is lifting many stones to see what’s beneath. The veneer of Normalcy is one I’ve always been confused by, as far back as I can remember. The only way I could approach my spirituality back at the start was with rules.

Now… it’s not that I care less. If anything, I care more, a good deal more. It’s that I’ve learned to prioritise, to care about what’s important to me.

Because back then, and until relatively recently, the Shoulds, the priorities… were mostly those of others. It’s been in my mind how much my generation was drilled into how to behave – which has left us confused now as to why we haven’t spoken up before about society’s wrongness. What happened? We learned to be passive. Perhaps.

I progressed by sticking to the path of Should Do. Until I couldn’t any more, until the wrongness was too loud. Until the spirits that had always been there wouldn’t let me settle or stay quiet.

Even now, it’s difficult. Normalcy seems so attractive. Just hunker down, do the 9-5 and get paid, all that stuff. But I can’t (physically and mentally).

So I need to set out on a similar-but-different journey again this Halloween season. Wave farewell to what’s now passed and is no longer needed (or wanted). That innocuous bus journey back in the day was one step of many to finding my truth, what I Should Do for Me.

And the crippling illness that came about from Should-ing for others can be managed as I dig up my determination again and continue to step forward.

I take each moment as gently as I can. Is this right for Me? Yes – move forward. No – let it fall aside.

It feels like Spring-cleaning but in an Autumn way. Let the beautiful leaves fall to the floor, and new life grow beneath them.

The voice of Normal Should tries to squeak loudly, of how I’m getting older, not doing enough, blah blah blah… but I’d rather now listen to those I love, to the deeper voices, who guide and cheer me on. Because my voice has value too.

And I try my best to never tell anyone how they Should.

Beautiful dawn image shared with kind permission from Lisa Butler-Hart ❤️
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What are We Doing?

September 5, 2022 at 1:37 pm · Filed under Druidry, Media, Personal ·Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

Time moves on and this country takes another turn… possibly backwards. I feel so tired and helpless, but then I ask myself what I can do.

I can write. I can speak. I can keep doing those things, even if my words get banned (as this blog already is in China).

I can stand. I can put my money where my mouth is, walk the talk, however you wish to phrase it. Or I can sit and refuse to move. I’m quite solid like that.

I can question. Ask why? Demand explanations, accountability. Point out the cruelty of systems that consist only of red tape. Note the encroaching litigation against protest.

I can publicly hug those who may be social pariahs. I will continue to marry those who ask, and push for legalisation of it. Regardless of colour, gender, mobility or what’s in their pants. Yes, love is love.

I have the image of the ‘Watchmen’ doom clock in my head, of 1930s Berlin. Because that awareness is present, I sincerely hope that what we do makes a difference. The warnings are going off, and we cannot hide.

What am I doing? No. What are WE doing. We must stand together.

I write this, holding out my hand and hoping so very hard.

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Update

August 23, 2022 at 6:14 pm · Filed under mental health, Personal ·Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

This is a personal one. I’m writing fast, on my phone, before my brain weasels realize what’s going on.

It’s been a hard time recently. Some of you know, but since I got told my diagnosis of CPTSD (which was apparently on file for a while all unknowing), I’ve finally found an excellent therapist and am figuring things out. Healing is happening and it is good.

BUT. The mental health Badness has been shoring up defenses in an effort to fight back, on its mission to tell me what an awful person I am. I know it’s irrational – but it’s also very loud sometimes.

The reason I’ve been doing so little is mostly anxiety. I’ve been afraid to step up, scared to write, worried that I’m simply Not Good Enough. That, combined with the keyword Useless, have been my constant foes. It’s not been fun, and I’ve been skating close to the edge from time to time.

I’m trying to hold on to the ups, however. Ideas have been coming, and I’m noting them down to let the subconscious do its work. I’m reading a lot and supporting many writers and small publishers as best I can (check out all my social media for recommendations as they happen).

I find it easier to stand up for others than for myself. It’s always been that way. But by doing so, I can remind myself what I am capable of – what my voice can do. That’s why I’m writing this today.

I know some people will write me off, and that’s up to them. I am still here. Perhaps in the midst of my ‘Crazy Wandering in the Dark Woods’ phase of my journey, but this means I’ve been able to help others who are themselves calling for solidarity through the trees.

I’m also still wanting to write fiction to get some of this out. Plus exploring previously undiscovered facets of myself, that might be considered even more weird than being Publicly Pagan. We’ll see. It’s helping both me and others, so it can’t be bad.

I’m still performing weddings. I’m pushing back quietly against some of the awfulness in society. Himself and I are considering what we can do in that regard as a household.

I am doing my best. It may feel like a small squeak right now, but I am hopeful that my roar will return.

Meantime, thankyou so much for your patience and encouragement. I can’t tell you how much it means without going wibbly, but it is a LOT.

Still here.

Much love.

(And NOW the brain has caught up and wants to me put profuse Sorrys in before deleting… quick, press Go!)

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Wrong…?

April 5, 2022 at 10:19 am · Filed under Personal ·Tagged , , , , , , , , ,

I stare at my screen. Again. What do I say? It’s been an age, and the words haven’t been coming.

But today, something tells me to write.

Lately, I’ve been listening to the stories of those who normally go unheard. Folks who aren’t white, aren’t heterosexual, aren’t rich. Folk whose voices are silenced despite how hard they try to speak. I remember being in that place once.

I see the world right now, and I wonder how we reached this point. I think back to my school-days. Were we ever taught to think for ourselves? There’s a vague memory of having to write about our skills, but not much more. We were taught what was Right and what was Not. Marked in red pen, passing exams with ticks in the margin and a score.

There was no room for questioning.

I remember asking what the Poll Tax riots were about. Why teachers were striking. Why the electricity went off from time to time. I remember seeing Margaret Thatcher on Saturday morning TV. I saw a bearded Irishman silenced on the news as bombs went off in London.

Later, I discovered comedy and satire. I learned to read between the lines. School taught Shakespeare; Blackadder showed the Bard’s deeper power. Spitting Image showed politicians laughing at the audience, calling them stupid for voting in such idiots.

I still love Shakespeare, despite school (which should definitely NOT be the way it is). He showed all those shades of humanity: the poor, the non-British, the mad. Each had wisdom of their own.

I learned to love the anti-heroes, the rebels, the dispossessed. I saw punks in the High Street and was awed. I wanted to ask, but couldn’t. I learned to stay quiet, but my eyes were open.

I saw bullying by other children and adults. I saw how people were treated. I felt how I was treated, my usefulness determined by how intelligent I was. Book-smart but mocked for it.

I hid in fiction. I loved words and stories. None were more or less valid than any other. But I saw how preference was given to certain demographics over others, so I quietly tried to seek out what was being hidden. I’m grateful to the kind adults who let me into their section of the library.

Years later, as an adult, I found my voice at University, through feeling my anger at being silenced rise and rise until it had to come out. I jumped on a stage (something I’d specifically been told not to do at school, because I’d fail), and I SHOUTED. The room fell silent. People listened. I jumped down, physically shaking… to have friends congratulate me. Why had I not done this before?

Now, as the world opens up again, the empty stage is open to me. I’m being asked what I want to talk about at events. What will my next book be?

I want to tell my stories. I want to hear the tales of others and give them the gift of time and space, so that fighting to be heard is unnecessary. I want to help the shy ones, the afraid, the silenced, the invalid.

I’ve been mocked for ‘always taking in strays.’ I don’t think that’s a fault. I see the world, I see the mistakes made before, and I see the cleverness of those children coming up behind. I want to help them.

I write. I think. I listen. I question. I hope I inspire others to do so as well.

What are WE doing?

I’m trying to listen and find my path again after the world went mad. Because we’re all mad here, as someone once said. All human.

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Still Here

July 13, 2021 at 9:34 am · Filed under mental health, Personal ·Tagged , , , , ,

It’s been an age. So long since I wrote anything here.

(Even now, my brain is telling me to click away, not to post this, not to bore everyone. But here we go, pushing on)

The words haven’t been coming. The flow has been blocked. They’re there, in my mind, but they don’t want to get out onto the page.

The preventative song is the same. Not good enough. You’ve done your bit. That was all you could do. You’ve done.

You should stop.

(Feel free to read between the lines)

Every day is another step, though. Small things accomplished. Every piece of happiness held on to and cheered.

I can’t face friends one day; the next, I share laughter and hopeful thoughts with a stranger.

I see shock on the face of a person assigned to help me. But not disgust – sympathy. The shame shrinks before his gentle smile.

Being held, in person or virtually. Reaching out myself, wanting to help others. Tears for sick friends, frustration that I can’t do more – but being there.

Gladness in plans that we’re finally able to make, after a year of limbo.

We live in strange times. I’m not sure where the winding path is leading. I’m trying to listen to the subtle guidance – the ringing strike of truth held in random phrases, words on a page, jokes and shared thoughts.

It feels as if I’m living moment to moment right now. And perhaps… that might be ok.

Because I’m wanting more. And the ideas may be starting to bud a little once again. the truths start to fall from my lips and fingertips.

Love and hope to you all, patient friends. The mantra of last year still: Stay Safe.

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Light in the Dark

January 26, 2021 at 8:01 pm · Filed under Druidry, mental health, Personal ·Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

Today was not a good day.

But I did receive some advice that struck me, and which I would like to remember. I should try to ‘surround myself with things that make me happy.’

Even though we may have our own spaces, how consciously do we do this? Not random piles of Stuff, nor the minimalism of only keeping what gives us joy, but taking time to seek out soul-deep happy things in the moment – as medicine, solace, comfort, fuel to keep yourself moving forward.

The world is turning, things are changing, and I don’t know where we will end up. But for the first time in a while, I feel that I am seeing something to aim for, with the pulling back of self-care helping radiate outwards to larger work.

Tonight I sit, exhausted in body and spirit. I have soft knitting in my lap, colourful yarn gifted by fellow yarnies. A pup or a kitten may come by for a snuggle. A toy Jackalope sits nearby, sent from a friend miles away. Fire crackles in the hearth, and Himself prepares comforting food. Before bed, I will dip into a few pages of an excellent book.

Tomorrow, I will work on gifts for friends. Writing plans are germinating, throwing out tiny shoots of growth as characters begin to talk to me. Ritual ideas are also coming, as we near Imbolc, but also as I prepare a rite of Passing.

All of this while the country is locked down by illness. When we need companionship but cannot even touch family and friends – at least we have this technology to keep our shared spirits up. We have items with stories, that have come to us when needed.

We keep going through the winter months, and I am glad of being able to reach beyond that dark to the flame of happiness again.

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Farewell to This Year

December 31, 2020 at 8:26 pm · Filed under Personal ·Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

It feels as if this is a moment we’ve all been working towards for so long. 2020 has been A Year unlike any other that we’ve known. Time itself has seemed tenuous and changeable, whether elastic or like wading through thick mud. Very little has been certain, day-to-day.

We’re stepping into a new calendar year with even more trepidation than usual, and (perhaps) greater awareness of the weight of what might lie ahead. But also with hope – because that is what keeps us moving on.

I rarely make New Year’s resolutions, as that’s always been a Samhain thing for me. But after some extremely fallow writing weeks, ideas have tapped on my brain to be noted and shared; maybe even looked back on next December.

Moving into 2021, I hope…

To keep rediscovering my strength. Ditto bravery. Fear and weakness can have their time, and then be overcome.

To explore my creativity. Be it fiction in places that I’ve not explored before, or new and intriguing skills. Also…

To allow myself to make mistakes. To mess up, trip up and then pick myself up. It’s all part of the journey. Blame and guilt are not helpful.

To keep speaking my truth, and digging deep when necessary to see what that means.

To allow myself to share more without shame.

To learn to love myself as I am, here and now.

To make and share my own personal magic.

To not give up.

Step, step, step…

Stay safe, friends. Thinking of you all. We’ll see each other again soon.

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Permission to Try

November 23, 2020 at 4:03 pm · Filed under Uncategorized ·Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A while ago, I was chatting to a friend and happened to mention that I loved horror movies, especially when I was feeling low. She looked at me in horror. ‘Why?!’ she gasped.

I honestly didn’t know how to reply, because I couldn’t quite understand the question.

I don’t know if it’s still true (I suspect it is), but when I was younger, it wasn’t ‘cool’ to be really passionately into something. Be it a hobby, interest or whatever struck your fancy in a big way, it seemed that unless that topic was currently ‘trendy’ – and therefore permissible – you could expect to get mocked for it. So you quickly learned to keep it quiet.

A classic example is Dungeons and Dragons, which was widely derided for many years after launch (despite its popularity), but is now ‘cool’ because those nerdy kids grew up and are still enjoying themselves. Thus others are finally drawn in though curiosity rather than put off by derision.

I’ve never understood why someone being really keen on a subject should have to push that down for the sake of their ‘image.’ When do we learn to mock others for things they enjoy? I think the nearest I came was having a laugh at my brother for his football-madness, but our whole family had that – I always took a book (or two) wherever I went, unless I wanted to sit with them watching two groups of men chase a ball around a field for 90 minutes. Fun for many, not for me.

I still joke with him about ‘Doing A Sport’, by the way. It’s not malicious at all, as I love seeing my nephews enjoying it as they get older. I really wouldn’t want to tell anyone what they can and cannot like! My technically-correct explanation of the Offside Rule (‘that man’s in front of that other one and he shouldn’t be’) shows how daft I am, if anything.

It’s interesting to take a step back to consider why some things are permissible and others not. So many social rules fly around gendered roles, for example: historically, women were looked down upon for reading, because they might Get Ideas. Let alone Playing a Sport (still true).

I love that we’re now starting to really dig into the irrationality of such invisible laws, which seem to originate in the schoolyard. At some point (hopefully by adulthood) an individual can stop, think to themselves ‘Hang on…’ and realize that the thing they love is for a valid reason.

I mention my ribbing of my brother and his football because he has been known to do similar to me about my Paganism. He used to call it ‘That stuff you do’, until he came to my Handfasting and saw what the Stuff was for himself. It’s not for him but he gets it, and I’m glad.

At every single such event I’ve ever attended, regular folks have approached me to tell me how lovely the ceremony was, and how they’d never realized. I do wonder what they imagine Pagan Ritual to be, but it’s always lovely to share The Stuff I Do with others in an open way, so they can see for themselves. Not with a view to recruiting at all – people can make up their own minds about that! Just demonstrating.

If people ask me for introductory information about something I love, I try to help them understand and hopefully inspire a little. It’s always a true pleasure to hear others speak on such topics. Personal passion is a wonderful thing.

I’m writing this today because allowing myself to feel deeply about certain things is something that’s been on my mind recently. What I am allowing myself to have or to do. What’s permissable – and if not, why not?

I’ve been reviewing books to share my opinion and also help authors and small publishers. Genre fiction isn’t always ‘cool’, but if I liked it, I’ll say so. It’s up to those reading the review if they pick up the book themselves or not.

I’ve been watching makeup videos on YouTube, and debating playing with colours again. The greater part of a year spent in lockdown means I’ve been making do with basic primping, but I want to remember how fun it is to dress up. I love my dark red lipstick, and will have to wear it at home for a while… but that’s ok.

What do we allow ourselves to do, or not do? Why avoid things that we love for the sake of what others think, or what we feel we ‘should’ be doing? Those awful social expectations, codes and rules…

This isn’t about anarchism or chaos. This is simply about pausing to ask ‘do I really want to do this?’ when you know the answer is Yes.

Because right now, we need to give ourself permission to enjoy what we love. Explore new languages, cultures, topics, genres, games, pastimes. What can we do to brighten the days during lockdown? Bake, read, play, craft, dress up. Even play D&D with friends across Zoom, which Himself and I will be doing tonight.

I feel as if sometimes I’m relearning what I love all over again, because the depression brings back those playground voices that tell me I can’t, shouldn’t, will look stupid, etc etc.

But what if I try?

Wintry blessings, my friends.

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New Hope

August 13, 2020 at 11:36 am · Filed under mental health, Personal ·Tagged , , , , ,

So… an exciting Thing is happening regarding my mental health situation.

A while ago (pre-lockdown), my lovely Dr told me about some medical trials going on for those with ‘treatment-resistant depression.’ I appeared to meet the criteria, so she put my name forward.

This is the project – Brightmind (I keep wanting to call it Brightburn, but that’s a very different thing 😂).

I’ve had confirmation today that I’m pretty much their ideal candidate, and after the formal assessment next week (and MRI scan to check my brain), I can begin in early September.

I’ve kept this quiet until it was confirmed, and also because I should’ve started in February – but then the MRI machines became suddenly busy. The team at Nottingham University, working with QMC Hospital Nottingham, are super-keen to get working again, and their enthusiasm is really giving me hope.

Short version: this is like ECT (electro-convulsive therapy), but using magnets. So it’s not invasive at all and has shown a high rate of success. The last statistics I found showed 80% of improvement in patients, with the remainder showing no change. NO side-effects.

I’m hopeful. No guarantees, but any improvement is A Good Thing.

I will be updating on here, and possibly with videos as well. I’ve seen other folks on YouTube document such journeys, and their positive experiences have been a big factor in my going forward with this.

A Big Adventure is about to begin! Fingers – and everything else – crossed.

Also, before anyone says anything: yes, I’ve read ‘Firestarter’ and books like that. I promise to use any resulting superpowers for good. Including a clearer brain 😊

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Monday

July 20, 2020 at 12:19 pm · Filed under Druidry, mental health, Personal ·Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

I’ve never been sure what Real Druids (or Pagans, Witches or whatever) are supposed to do on a daily basis.

I’m sure you’ve seen memes involving Getafix or Gandalf. I rather like this one from Living Liminally:

druid meme2

Even that’s not been possible for most of this year, alas. Looking over my garden is kind of my limit for outdoor contact – or walking the dogs close to home. That’s something, and it’s more than many, I know.

Today I’m wondering what I should be doing, according to others. Because when I woke up, my brain decided to regale me with all of the demands made by others who clearly Know Better.

(They don’t. Some folks just love to critique based on a glimpse of the person they think they know.)

The softest target is my health. Lately this has been a real bone of contention, and apparently a problem for others as well as me.

Every time I post something about my health (read: my depression, anxiety, what have you), I feel bad. The voices gleefully squeal ‘Oh, she’s off again! What is it now? They don’t care, you know.’ Or, that biggest of guns: ‘She just wants attention.’

I don’t. I really don’t. I want to talk about how I’m feeling because every time I do, I get quiet messages telling me that being honest and up-front about it is helpful. I’m not actually whingeing; I’m striking a chord with someone stuck in their own dark hole.

A lot of what I do is invisible, thinking about it – meaning that it happens, but can’t easily be seen. Battling my illness. Working with energy, connecting with the world around, chatting to spirits or deity. Or – gasp! – writing.

Writing is sorting ideas somehow in your head, transmitting those coherently through my fingers onto this page. Broadly speaking.

But there’s also the jump to simply do the work. To get up, find the writing tool – laptop, pen and paper – and make the words happen. That can be as difficult as putting on running gear to head out of the door. Especially when feeling low, because the Brain wants to convince you that you can’t do it. You don’t need to. Nobody cares, anyway.

Shut up, f*ck off, I’m doing it.

A common piece of advice from writers is to Just Write. Neil Gaiman put it so well when he said something akin to ‘Put one word after another and keep going.’ Yep. Like running – one step, then another, repeat.

It is at once that simple and at the same time so much more difficult!

Here I am, then. Wittering on. Hoping that these words strike that note to inspire.

This Druid does indeed have Things to do today. They are Good Things. Reading through my students’ work; reading review books and preparing my ideas on them, answering messages – and seeing what happens as they day goes on! Last week, I worked on the upcoming issue of Pagan Dawn. New things come along all the time. Druid Life is interesting.

Normally at this time of year, I’d be so busy with public rituals, talks, camps and suchlike. This year is quiet, generally at home. But I’m still doing my best.

Try not to judge. It’s likely you can’t see everything about a person from just a glance or a Twitter status. Look deeper into the story if you’re interested; you might find something you like.

Let’s try to keep inspired, eh? Your story is just as valid as anyone’s. I’m telling my frustrating brain that today – now with an added topping of ‘Look, you wrote something! Not useless after all!’

Solidarity and love in these difficult times, my friends.

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