Always relevant.

There’s been a bit of kerfuffle in one or two groups I’m in. That age old “I can’t be your friend because you’re still friend’s with — (insert name). I’m too long in the tooth for that nonsense, although I must stress that none of this involved me. In fact I’m quite happy it didn’t involve me. I’ve had my fair share of this ridiculous sort of behaviour.

Circumstances in my life recently have taught me that life is very much for the living, very much to be grabbed with both hands and experienced and enjoyed. I’ve come to the conclusion that getting involved in friendship/forum/Facebook/messenger/WhatsApp/group politics is bad for my health.

We are not teenagers in high school hating on whoever Queen Bee decides she isn’t friend’s with today. I really cannot be bothered with that kind of drama. I have enough of that when my cats decide to hiss and carry on at each other!

Live and let live. If I have an issue with someone and another person I am friendly with remains their friend, well that’s their prerogative. It isn’t for me to decide who they can choose to be friendly with.

I actually find that is quite an egotistical act to try and dictate to another that I don’t want to talk to them anymore because they’ve remained friend’s with someone I dislike. Just because I have an issue doesn’t mean everyone I know must have an issue too.

Daily Om – 03/10/2022

When Life Falls Apart

We can trust that our inner core is always shining brightly, even when we cannot quite see it.

There are times when our whole world seems to be falling apart around us, and we are not sure what to hold on to anymore. Sometimes our relationships crumble and sometimes it’s our physical environment. At other times, we can’t put our finger on it, but we feel as if all the walls have fallen down around us and we are standing with nothing to lean on, exposed and vulnerable. These are the times in our lives when we are given an opportunity to see where we have established our sense of identity, safety, and well-being. And while it is perfectly natural and part of our process to locate our sense of self in externals, anytime those external factors shift, we have an opportunity to rediscover and move closer to the core of our being, which is the only truly safe place to call home.

The core of our being is not affected by the shifting winds of circumstance or the cycles of change that govern physical reality. It is as steady and consistent as the sun, which is why the great mystics and mystical poets often reference the sun in their odes to the self. Like the sun, there are times when our core seems to be inaccessible to us, but this is a misconception. We know that when the sun goes behind a cloud or sets for the night, it has not disappeared but is temporarily out of sight. In the same way, we can trust that our inner core is always shining brightly, even when we cannot quite see it. 

When things around us are falling apart, we can cling to this core knowing that an inextinguishable light shines from within ourselves. Times of external darkness can be a great gift in that they provide an opportunity to remember this inner light that shines regardless of the circumstances of our lives. When our external lives begin to come back together, we are able to lean a bit more lightly on them, knowing more clearly than ever that our true home is that bright sun shining in our core.

The thing with magic(k)/witchcraft.

There’s always plenty to say when it comes to this subject. There’s always plenty of people who have an opinion, one way or another. I don’t care much about the opinions of others when it comes to my practice. I wrote last week about how I stumbled upon my own path and how I had to keep things on the down low. Well, I didn’t mention how many different paths I’d looked at before I got to where I am today.

Thirty seven years I have practiced. Well, knowingly anyway. I always class my practice as starting at the age of fourteen because what I was experiencing before that age was not anything I had a name for. I pay no heed to those people who wish to entangle themselves in the so called witch wars that were a thing of forums circa 2004 upwards. It was all bullshit then and I haven’t changed my opinion. But if you happen to say you are a solitary that taught themselves their own craft that they practice, well, there are those who like to flame you, trying to call you out for whatever claptrap they’ve got beef with you about.

Yes indeed, the witchy community has its fair share of liars, cheats, bullies and scammers. It has its fair share of people who claim their way is the right way and anything else is wrong. It has its fair share of people who will call you names just for daring to spell magick like I just have. Frankly I like spelling it that way because it bristles some people the wrong way. My take is this: it’s a word and maybe some witches claim the spelling with a k is authentic because xyz says so, but I just like it and spell it that way. There is nothing elaborate about that, it’s just my preference.

There are some who will say that what you claim to be true for you is untrue, but how do they know? If they’ve never met you and you’re in a group on Facebook and you’re talking about your own personal practice. How do they know what you’re saying is true or untrue? Well, the thing is they don’t know, they just claim they do. I used to give myself the label of Eclectic witch. I felt it suited my path at the time. For the past few years I’ve just said my practice. There’s no real definitive name for what I do, I just do it. Yes, it’s eclectic, but it’s just my own personal practice. I now just don’t feel like I need a name for what I do.

This is what I’ve found out about myself since getting well and reaching cronehood, I write my own rules and focus on me. I don’t spend a lot of time on social media anymore, I’ve just got too much to do. Besides, I now have quiet mode scheduled for my Facebook every day and have found I actually sleep better.

It doesn’t matter what your own practice is labelled, or not, what matters is being true to yourself. You don’t need to follow any particular path in order to be true to yourself, I think it’s something that should be taught in schools, but that’s a story for another day. There’s also nothing wrong with individuals who join groups and covens, their choice. I just find the in-fighting tedious. Just go do your own thing and leave others to do their own thing. Remember, your opinion is just that, an opinion, unless an individual is following a Wiccan path – or another organised form of witchcraft- then there are no real rules that say you have to do things a certain way. So your way is just as valid as my way, and so on and so forth.

Be yourself, always.

Sometimes you have to remember.

I wrote this post 5 years ago. I was just days out of a really bad PTSD attack and felt like I was over the worst. So I opened that door inside of my mind and felt into it. Just for a short while.

Tomorrow marks the day that my life changed. I had barely lived. Everything was mine for the taking. I was so self assured. I knew where I was going and nobody was going to stop me.

Only they did.

A vile creature tore from me what should’ve been mine to give. Denied me peace for a very long time. Tormented my dreams, turned them into horrific nightmares. Sent me spiralling so far out of control until I didn’t even recognise myself anymore.

It took work with a child psychiatrist, many years of therapy. Lots of breakdowns, hovering over giving up, giving in. So many mistakes….but so much learning, understanding, coming to know what my strengths and weaknesses are.

People ask the question, “if you could change your past, would you?” You’re damn right I would…….it’s not simply a case of me being a different person had that event not happened. It took so much from me. So much potential. So much adventure. So much fun. So much trust. It tore me apart in so many ways, physically, emotionally, so much pain and suffering. You can’t even fathom unless you’ve been there.

In therapy there’s so much talk of making peace with what happened. But it’s just not that easy. The word victim is overused and it’s easy to understand why, but that word swallows you whole and it’s only when you let it go and embrace the survivor you are that you are able to heal old, festering wounds.

The day has arrived, the one that has taunted me from the shadows for the past month. I’ve held my shit together pretty darn well I think. One wobble, that’s all I’ve had, and I have no idea what triggered it either, but it’s fine, I’m fine, it didn’t last long. I’ve thought a lot about then and now. I’ve thought a lot about why there’s even a significance this year, why I’m being so affected by it all. 30 years. I was going to say 30 years of being your victim, but I’m no longer your victim, if I’m honest I haven’t been for a very long time. You may have took something from me then, but I’ve got so much more back, I am so much more than your cowardly act could ever have imagined; taking my innocence, leaving me broken and bleeding, torn apart inside, almost dead inside. What you didn’t know was the mighty fucking warrior I had been, even then, even as a 16 year old girl with her whole life in front of her. You didn’t snuff me out. Ripping my underwear off me and forcing yourself inside of me, threatening to kill me and holding me at knifepoint to make sure you could carry out your sick attack on my innocent body. Laughing at me and spitting on me, calling me a whore, you didn’t snuff me out. When you jeered at me in the identity parade, taunting me, laughing at my emotional breakdown – even your lawyer was disgusted at you, his sympathy all for me. You didn’t expect me to remember, you thought I hadn’t seen your face, how could I ever forget such an ugly, vile soul? YOU DIDN’T SNUFF ME OUT!!! It may have taken me a little while, but I brought justice down on your vileness. I may have veered off my path, sunk into the depths of despair more times than I wanted to, but you didn’t snuff me out. I clawed my way back out of the hell you forced me into. I clawed my way back out of the depths of despair. I was battered and bruised on the inside, broken and empty, but you didn’t snuff me out. You attacked me because I walked home alone, but you didn’t snuff me out. You attacked me because I wore a short skirt, but you didn’t snuff me out. You attacked me because you wanted to feel power over women, BUT YOU DIDN’T SNUFF ME OUT!!!! You threatened me with a knife, held it against my throat, the steel blade pushing up against my windpipe, I thought you would surely puncture my skin, BUT YOU DIDN’T SNUFF ME OUT!!!!!!! There are things you did and said that only my husband, mother and the police know, your wickedness will not be repeated, why would I give it a voice? I rose from the spark that you tried to snuff out, I became whole again, unafraid. I wear the emotional scars from your attack, they remind me daily how truly wicked some people are. They remind me just how far I’ve come since August 23rd 1987. I embraced my female self, because you didn’t snuff it out, you tried, but you didn’t succeed. I AM HERE!!! I AM ALIVE!!! I AM NOT YOUR VICTIM!!! YOU DO NOT GET THAT KIND OF POWER OVER ME!!! 30 years ago you sought to destroy my life. 30 years on I am still here, alive, fighting, defying your disgusting act and being me. I AM A FEMALE WARRIOR! YOU DID NOT SNUFF ME OUT!!!

If you have been affected by rape or sexual assault you can contact the following for advice and support:

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