Be careful what you wish for. Lately I’ve been ruminating on the necessity of carefully curated word choice. As I have referenced before in numerous other posts we create the world around us by what comes out of our mouths. And I have not been as careful as I should of late.
Fiddling While Rome Burns
If you know me in real life you’ll know that this summer has been brutal in terms of mundane needs. I’ve had my car break down twice, needed at least 1,000 dollars worth of work done on it, had my house catch fire and melt a little bit, had my partners motorcycle exploded and cause said fire, locked myself out of my house…etc..
Sometimes it feels like I can’t catch a break. Or catch my breath. The first couple incidents felt like a learning experience. Something o grow from, a transformative moment. But when my car broke down and the motorcycle exploded catching our house on fire on the same day I suspected that something wanted my attention. In fact I laid out in my backyard accompanied by the sound of fire truck sirens and waved the metaphorical white flag. But then I really looked at what I had been putting out into the world, all the way back to Imbolc when I asked for the divine to give me more opportunities to grow, bring the magick into the mundane, and transform me into a vessel of divine love and inspiration.
And then it hit me. I asked for this. I begged to be transmuted. To be smelt down and have the impurities float up to the top and be thrown out.
Rise From The Ashes
The other night I had a dinner with Morgan. A witch and whine so to speak. I swear Everytime I am there I leave full of good food and good advice; dizzy with the possibilities gently pointed out to me. I was whining ( and imbibing wine as it were) about the events of my life and how I felt that everything I tried to write, everything I tried to manifest just got stuck. It was all disjointed, dissonant. I have at least 4 different drafts of blog posts that all have something wrong with them. Morgan gently suggested that the reason I felt stuck, felt like someone who lost their voice was because the divine wasnt ready for me to share those lessons, those moments. Suddenly everything clicked.
I want to tell you all about my recent journeys, my challenges, my joys. My introduction to Kore at Beltane surrounded by floating cherry blossoms, or tea time with Baba Yaga through dream work. But now is not the time. And let me tell you, I am struggling to accept that.
Just know this. I will rise from this place of seeming ashes and become. Become through sweat, tears, blood. And I offer all of that to my goddesses both old and new.
I look forward to our next chat around the bonefire lovelies. Let’s make it sooner rather than later, right?