I have pushed myself so hard this week. I have always been my harshest critic. I can’t perform any less than 110% when it comes to anything. Most would say that this comes from a childhood of always feeling as though I had to compete for approval. Not true. My grandmothers made sure that I was made to feel important no matter what. They were the foundation of my strength of heart…they always told me that there was something inside of me that no one else would ever be able to possess or take away from me.
Normally, when I would have a week like this one has been, I would be able to call either one or both of my grandmas and the sound of their voices would bring peace. Their voices…I never thought I would have to learn to live without those voices.
It was in the midst of this week that I found my mind…my body….my very heart and spirit craving the elements around me. There is a large maple tree just outside of our courtyard wall. On Wednesday afternoon, I got home at the regular time….I could feel the weight of pushing myself exhausting me. I stopped. Only for a moment and leaned against that large old maple tree. It was as if I could hear the voices of my grandmothers whispering in my ears again.
Once I had gotten inside and changed out of business casual into backyard grunge, I went back into the courtyard and started digging in the dirt….just to get that cool damp feeling on my hands…that connection to the Great Mother.
Friday I craved contact with water…..it was as if all day long I could not get enough water into my system. I drank water non-stop. It was rainy most of the day here….there was a part of me that did not want to come inside. I hungered to be out among the rain drops…feeling the rhythm against me and around me. Again, when I got home from work, I stood in the midst of a short rain shower….feeling it wash me from head to toe. I could feel the rush and pressure from the week washing away as each drop caressed me. I sat in the middle of the courtyard…smelling each plant as it soaked in the nourishment.
The rain continued into the morning today. I took a clue from Friz and spent more time smelling the air and enjoying the clean feeling that only rain water can bring. I wore a tshirt and shorts out and walked barefoot in the mud. Sometimes, it is just being able to feel the wet earth under my feet that keep me grounded.
This afternoon, my time with wind came. We had just gotten back from the grocery store (where a crow perched on the shopping cart beside the car….scared my partner to death). As we were getting out of the car in front of the condo, a strong cool wind came up. My partner mentioned that it got really cool quickly and the wind was so strong. He ran inside with the groceries, but there I stood in the courtyard with my arms spread like I was ready to take flight. I believe if I had concentrated hard enough, I may have gotten lift off….and damn! My besom was inside. I could hear the throaty laugh of Mama Crow in the branches above me. She sensed my joy in the breeze. She sensed my hunger to be a part of air.
I could not leave my old friend fire out of the circle. Tonight, just before sunset, I went to the woods with my smaller cauldron. I sat down in the cool leaves and put my altar in place. I brought some dry leaves with me and set them to smolder in the cauldron along with some sticks and incense. I watched as the fire danced in front of me. Something about watching those red-orange flames burning away the deadness of the sticks and leaves leapt into my spirit. I stood and danced with the flame. Sometimes I have to abandon all feelings of ‘what if someone sees me’ and just do what my spirit is compelled to do…..it is the most freeing experience that I could ever describe. Too often we become bound up in what is proper and what is ‘normal’ that we forget that freedom that magick brings…and the relationship to the masculine and feminine divine.
I had a wonderful dream last night. I was trekking through the mountains. The air was cool. The sun was shining all around. There were a few other people there that I knew. I remember meeting my old friend wolf in a grassy field. We wrestled and tumbled. I laughed until my stomach hurt. I went into the small log cabin with wolf at my side. In the cabin was a dark haired, dark eyed woman….a witch of Nordic descent. I knew this woman and I knew her well. She was extremely gifted in psychic abilities and divination with candles. I remember after laughing and talking to her, going to a cabinet to get the candles out. As I looked at each candle, runes appeared on the bottoms of each. I remember that I could read them very clearly. One, in particular, carried the words, “There has been a path forged before you by the ancients.” It essentially told me that the path I am on… I am not to venture off of.
As I think back on it….a friend brought it up tonight, the woman in my dream was a part of me. It is the part of me that I still search for…the part of me that I enjoy the company of, but haven’t entirely embraced. Maybe now is the time.