Wednesday, November 2, 2011

the little witch 4

Leaving a bad situation is good, but the further away I got, in time and in actual distance the more I could clearly see how very bad it was. How did I get away? How did I not crawl up and die? How did I change my destiny?

One word... Magic.

What is Magic you might ask? Magic is different for everybody. People have different names for Magic. Let me first say that I have heard people speak of their own Magic, using their own words. Sometimes people use the word Magic... I am sure you have heard something like this described to you before.

"The weather was warm as I sat on my beach chair wiggling my toes in the sand watching the sun slowly setting in the purple and pink sky. I was tuning my radio when on came my favorite song. I leaned back and as I looked up again to watch the sun touch the sea, there you were... standing right in front of me, smiling, and then hearing your voice say; that is my favorite song."
"When we met, it was like magic."
Because it is. Magic is the All, working in perfect order. It is being present. It is in prayer and is part of giving and receiving. It is a blade of grass and it is an airplane. Did I lose you there?

Well, think about everything that had to happen to grow that single blade of grass. I mean everything. The living dirt (yes dirt is alive) air, sun, water, root systems and seed, birth and death, all there in a single blade of grass. Now think about that single blade of grass and imagine the complications, of insects and ice ages droughts, floods and fires. Yet there it is; growing. Growing among others just like it, and others not quite like it. A whole ecosystem has participated in it's growth, and it.... the blade of grass will participate in your own growth and mine too even though we may never meet. It is part of the whole, the whole world, the whole Universe and the whole Big Bang God thing.

Airplane, same thing. Yes, they might be made by humans, but what is the stuff humans use to make the plane? We didn't pull it out of our asses did we? I mean money doesn't make airplanes, and humans can not take all the credit can we? Also how do those giant things stay way up there? The air, sun, water and dirt has something to do with that... the same elements that helps the blade of grass. The same pulsing beat of a drum way off that makes us all change and grow and move together spinning around in a Universe we know nothing about. OK, we named some planets, and we think there is dark holes out there. But really, we are no closer to the mystery than we are studying a blade of grass, or an airplane, or a soul.

We are all connected. We are connected to those we hate as much as those we love. Tough one eh? It is for me. I would rather think I am only connected to the sparkly people. When I feel a connection with a kind stranger who might offer a smile, I most likely would call it magical far more quickly and often, then say a stranger who just cut me off in traffic. Right? The sparkly people a magical.

But, what if that person who cut me off on purpose then made me and five seconds delayed, making it so I had to stop at that next red light and therefor was three more minutes later down the road missing the huge car accident just a few minutes ahead of me. Do I have a connection to that person? Yes or no? Certainly I was saved from being hurt or killed in that accident by the driver that cut me off only 5 minutes before. You know, the one I growled at.

Magic is in the finding the reality of the connective-ness we all share. That means the nice sparkly people (hey you all) and the people in my life who hurt me, who were unkind, or uncaring, or unthoughtful, or whatever. Not sparkly.

Magic in it's purest form is the connection, finding it, naming it, embracing it, celebrating it, honoring it and sometimes, letting it stay and letting it go. It is the flow. Yes. Magic saved me. What is next? I can't wait to find out. So far it has been quite a ride.

So if you wonder why I have so much joy for the simple things, it is because they are indeed quite magical. I don't use that term loosely either.

More to come on this subject. It seems I am on a roll.

the collective


Monday, October 31, 2011

the little witch 3

Tough read, on my blog post: the little witch 2. I know. It was tough for me to write it and then to read it again many years later. I am quite amazed and surprised that I was that forthcoming. It is not easy talking about abuse. First, because it is something one is taught to hide. By means of intimidation, coercion or the shame and embarrassment. Also if you grow up, and that is all you know, it is all you know. It is very different to look at it by adult eyes. Very different. There is always that flicker of "don't tell". Even today. Of course, now I answer that flicker, with a "Why the hell not?" I was a child. Adult eyes, looking back at a voiceless little girl.

After some boyfriends, including one who actually punched me in the face, I met my ex husband. I was 19. Still a teenager. Right out of the pot, into the kettle. We had a tumultuous relationship, once ending in me  breaking up and moving away from him. He came back with promises of a great life, I moved back in with him. Yes, we did live in a lovely home, but he was controlling and both physically, emotionally and verbally abusive. Sometimes I just wish it was only the physical. The emotional and verbal abuse was excessive. He belittled me in front of people. I started to believe him that I was stupid. He called me every name in the book in his rages. He used to charge me, fist in my face. He broke things. I remember just cringing when I heard him pull up in his car at night. No matter how I tried to have everything perfect, it was never good enough. He cheated on me regularly, and told me I was crazy for even mentioning it. Then he would shower me with gifts, be so sorry and charming and I would forgive him, because he was so stressed (and more excuses of why I made him do what he did to me)

I felt sad trapped and dependent on him. I had children with him, two a girl and a boy. What was I thinking? I wasn't. However I feel blessed to have my children. Them, and my eventual escape into the light was the best part of being married to him. I could go on and on about the stories, but I will spare you.

I started going to therapy toward the end of the marrage. He used to try to intimidate me not to say anything to the therapist. I remember once writing it all down. He saw me holding the notebook in the therapist's waiting room, and threatened me. But I went in the therapist room and held the paper up, shaking so hard I could barely read what I had written. In that note I asked him to be kind to me, or I would have to leave him. Soon after, he quite going, summing it all up to "my issues" not his. And it did not change, it never would. I was married to him for 10 years, had lived with him for 7 years before. I continued to go to therapy. I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I took medication, and I read a whole bunch of books about healing.

I was so afraid to leave him. He was always talking about how he knew people, he had an obsession with and owned a whole safe full of guns and knives. He pretended he was law enforcement when he would go partying with his buddies. I was afraid he would kill me if I left. I know he had spyware on my computer and watched my every move, and he had our phones tapped so he could monitor my phone calls. I can't prove it, but I feel like he had me followed as well.

But I did leave. With the support of some kick ass women in my life, two therapist, antidepressants and all the bravery I could muster up.... I left.

lost souls