I don’t know about you but when I peel an onion I cry. When it is a metaphorical onion I also cry. But the latter doesn’t make my eyes hurt, it actually cleanses and heals my heart. I’ve been peeling lots of onions this year and have been crying a lot. But each time I feel better. And interestingly more directed.
This new period of growth I attribute to one fated day in early July 2006 when my sponsor came to my house for a chat. We just hung out and talked about all kinds of things. And one of the things we discussed was manifestation. We talk about this a lot. We also talked about dating. I’d been single for 8 years, no dates, no friends with benefits, just 8 years dating myself.
In 1992 I dedicated myself to the Goddess and got a fairy arm band tattoo to mark the occassion and the connection. I also got the tattoo because I’d always wanted one. Lastly, I got it because it was trendy. I went straight to the rock club to show off my courage and coolness. gah.
When I was in treatment for my alcoholism (which includes drugs in my case) in 1995 I was also part of a local women’s coven, very active in several witchy activities, and also an active solitary. I also belonged to a cutting edge women witches email list, Aphrodite. This was before the internet. It was all pine and bbs and alt.pagan. These women were an amazing group and it wasn’t until much later that I discovered how fortunate I was to learn from them. They are well respected in their communities but I knew nothing about that. They were simply my friends. Several of them I met in one way or another and I am still in contact with some of them.
One of my Aphrodite Sisters sent me some love oil she made herself and sent it to me while I was in treatment. I started using it.
After treatment I was directed to the popular 12 step group for drunks and immediately started having trouble. I was upset by the constant references to the white male patriarchal god. I didn’t connect with the people there either. I got so upset that I eventually drank. And realized something that I hadn’t known before. I conceded to my inner most self that I am a drunk and that nothing will ever change that. The only option for me was drink and die (I was close to suicide a lot in those days) or get with the program. Knowing that I had let my spiritual biases get in the way of my recovery I was worried enough that I quit all my Goddess/God based practices. And stopped using the love oil, forgot all about it. I forgot about my dedication tattoo and my promise to Her.
I tried all kinds of other viewpoints. And behold, I began recovering. It was a lot of hard work and as time passed (11 years exactly until July 2006) my spiritual beliefs and knowledge became very widely based and very open minded. I considered myself a pretty darned happy human being. Goodness. If I only knew how small that happiness still was. But it was more than I ever asked for when I began my sobriety. And it was good enough.
In the autumn of 2002 I began training in a coven I was told was based on the teachings of the Church of Ravenwood. Training in British Traditional Witchcraft. But it wasn’t. Nothing like what Lady Sintana taught or envisioned. With a priest that was severely twisted. How twisted was not obvious at first and he gave good ritual. Little by little attrition happened until I was the last witch standing. When he fired our priestess, it was the last straw and I fled. The experience became known, between those of us who stayed in touch, as Uncle Tom’s Coven.
I stayed in touch with the woman who had been my beloved priestess and eventually was privileged to be accepted as a student of Leon Reed’s in Seattle for a year and a day of outer grove training. Like my days on the Aphrodite email list, I had no idea what an honor this was until some time had passed. I consider myself one well trained witch. But I never initiated. I just couldn’t make that kind of commitment at the time. And their meetings on Wednesday evenings that lasted as long as until 3-4am I just couldn’t do. I stay in touch and made some life long friends there. And one day I remembered the love oil. And realized that I had fallen in love with myself. Far more than I ever asked for. But I hadn’t connected my renewed interest in the old ways of my life and spirituality with my formal dedication to Her.
Which brings me to July 2006. My sponsor is also a witch. And we were talking about finding love. It was time for me to ask the universe for true love. Within a monthof that conversation I had met the man who would become my partner. Everything I asked for in a partner he fulfilled without even trying. Those qualities are just who he is. Lucky, lucky, blessed me.
And the life lessons began in earnest. Bop! Bam! Ooof. Owww. That is one thick onion…
I have discovered many things in this past 15 months:
- I was not as happy as I thought, my random comments didn’t back that up. Sure, I have pure moments of happiness but my general well being wasn’t as solid as I thought. I had made lots of progress from the days of bitter disappointment and suicidal thoughts but I had plenty of room to grow.
- I was not as healed from past lovers/husbands/partners as I thought
- I was not nearly as secure in my self worth as I thought. Issues of body image, security, trust came up regularly
- People and activities that used to feed me didn’t any more
- I was being called back to the Goddess and She was adament that it be Now.
It took me over a year to accompany Patrick to the sabbat rituals that a local coven offers. It was a huge epiphany for me when I finally went last Lammas. I was overwhelmed afterwards with the love I received from the amazing women there, the fabulousness of an intimate ritual with my love, Patrick, and with the ridiculousness of my stubborn refusal to go before that. I’ve gone to everything those women invite us to since. And tomorrow night we meet for Samhain. Can hardly wait.
I’ve been looking at several things since I decided about 6 weeks ago to work though an inventory of myself and my behaviors. Or was it less. Time is weird these days. I’ve been taking a good hard look at my ambition, my pride, my jealousies, my expectations, my sometimes volatile anger, and my direction.
And I know that I’m on the right path again with sobriety intact. That this group of women, and sometimes men, is a place I want to be. It’s where I want to put a lot of my energy. I’m planning on starting some dialogue about this soon with them.
I’m currently reading Phyllis Curott’s Book of Shadows and I’m surprised I never read it before. I had read Witchcrafting and I’ve admired her ever since. I am waiting for The Love Spell from the library. This morning on the bus, on page 100 (for some reason that seemed important), I read this:
From the moment I met her, I had felt I’d known Nonna all my life. And now, as I watched Maia chatting and laughing, I was beginning to know her too. She had a hot temper which I had seen flare more than once — at a rude customer, or a ceremonial magic group that would often leave the temple in disarray after using it. But her earthy warmth was as nourishing as her blazing anger could be frightening. …. [snip] … During circle Maia was commanding and sublime, but before and after, she could giggle and chatter like a schoolgirl. She was fully human, embracing contradictions and embodying the right complexity from which a life is created.
That last sentence hit me. And I realized that for some time now I’ve been stating that my purpose here on this earth in this body was to fully experience what it is to be human. Period. At the same time I’ve been trying not to be some of the things I am. In some unconscious way, I’ve demonized parts of my self. That for some reason I had internalized unwittingly in my path of recovery or earlier, that parts of me weren’t okay. And you know what? I think I see that I was mistaken. I am a complex woman, human. That these complexities are a good thing.
There was nothing wrong with my anger over some of the things that happened this summer. My reactions were understandable. I freaked out afterwards because I thought it wasn’t okay to be pissed off about the issues. And suddenly I’m thinking that perhaps, just perhaps, I behaved entirely appropriately. I still want to become more adept at restraint of pen and tongue. I’m still in process with my sponsor on these steps, I still have work to do and this new realization might change again as I peel this juicy onion, me.
Last night as I was drifting to sleep after a wonderful recovery meeting with many good friends with huge amounts of sobriety, I realized that I couldn’t take baby steps without actually manifesting that desire. I’d been looking at it backwards. To the chagrin of my sponsor I’m sure. I thought I had to learn to flow before I could manifest what I actually want instead of my Eeyore tendencies to manifest randomly the mud instead of the stream. I need to actually manifest the boat I float upon the stream in. Ah ha.
E? I get it. I see it. I know what I need to do. And I feel that this is the most important work I’m ever going to do. And I can’t wait to get started. And I see your laughing face E. And it’s beautiful.
You don’t have to apologize for who you are. I didn’t tell you the other day when I wrote this that I heard that big deity voice two months sober. And after over 12 years I get it. I finally get it. I wonder if, 12 more years in the future, I will get it even more deeplly. I have been doing just that. All my life. Even in sobriety. Apologizing for being fully human, fully Cynthia. And I don’t need to do that any more. aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
The life so short the crafte so long to learne.
~ Geoffrey Chaucer
Stitch Witch Cottage 