Death and Lughnassadh, Life and its Adverse Affects on Writing, Business of Blogging, Gatherings


Since HJ's death, I have become increasingly depressed. I find that Harry Potter makes an excellent distraction; however, I don't think I need much of one. My boy is home and I always find something to do with him. We are planning our yearly camping trip for this weekend and that is keeping me busy as well.

HJ's death sneaks up on me at strange moments. Last night I was reading about Cedric Diggory dying in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Suddenly I was over come with tears and then I couldn't sleep. I stayed up very late. Watching Dead Zone when a minor character died and again I was plunged into a bizarre place where death seems overpowering.

Death coming at Lughnassadh, a time of harvest, it is hard not to feel like my life is somehow harvesting death and illness. I have had an ear infection for a week. I just heard another good friend of mine's mother is seriously ill. Tony came home last night not feeling well. HJ is dead. Where is the sustenance that is marked at this time of the year? Where is the spiritual food to make me buoyant throughout the coming winter? And through all this my friends and family are quiet. It is like they are watching a train about to collide with a car and can not find a voice to say anything. Maybe it is because I don't reveal enough. I had a teacher once say that in order to gain the love and trust of others you must risk the same. I know I play it close to the vest and it also feels like when I say something I am ignored.

This past weekend I really wanted to go to hike with a good friend and see this awesome place she had found off of a well worn trail. It was a circle of cedar trees that created sacred space of some sort. I was very ill. I tried to explain that I wanted to go and probably shouldn't, however the feeling of disappointment from my friend was overwhelming. It is one of those times when feeling others emotions and reading their thoughts is a big nuisance.

So I hiked a mile in the rain. I hiked feeling my Husband Priest angry and upset that my friend couldn't see how sick I was, angry at me that I was bullied into doing something I shouldn't have. I hiked feeling my son worried that I was sick and then mad because I had made him wear a poncho. I hiked feeling my friend justifying her position saying in her head I had said I would do this for years and she wasn't going to let me back out now because of a little rain and an alleged ear ache.

We reached the destination and I immediately understood why she wanted us to come. I wished I had a tap measure so that I could have seen exactly what the circumference was, wondering what part sacred geometry had in the formation. Unfortunately the trees were dying. Tony walked around doing reiki on them and then I did a guided past life meditation. Only my son came back with visions from the place we were.

On the way back we saw a fawn. It was very close to the trail and it's mother was also very close. My friend wasn't impressed; however, it made the whole affair worth it to me. Further on down the trail we ran into another Doe. Tony kept expecting to see a Stag; however, we never did. We went home and I collapsed, sleeping two hours. My friend left upset that I was so drained and Tony was mad that she couldn't see what had happened.

She called today asking if I was feeling better and apologized. I understood, really I did. I had been promising her for some time that we would make the trip and I did enjoy our meditation and seeing the deer. It was nice; however, to get an apology and an admission that her selfish desires had over come her good sense. Tony will be pleased to know this happened.

She started asking about other things and I found everything tumbling out. My weekend after she left that revealed the death of HJ, a row I had with my ex-husband. a row my ex-husband had with Tony, my son's anxiety about wanting to go on the trip with us and not wanting to make his father mad, preparing for the camping trip and a private ritual that is to take place this weekend. I found myself telling her that none of my friends had acknowledged my loss and it made me feel lonely.

I told her that out of all the blogs I had written, it was HJ's blog that had attracted the attention of people I didn't know. Evidentially there are these groups that gather together blogs of similar interest and then promote them. Southern Stories has been attracting the attention of MetaPagan for some time evidently. It was the HJ blog that had them contact me. You would have thought that would have made me feel good; however, I marveled that death of a friend could bring about this type of harvest. I think HJ had something to do with it. It would be just like him to ensure that an electronic connection is made as a way of saying thanks for what I had said. Further I had gotten the response in mere hours after posting. After that Tony went on to read it and I found him broken down in complete tears at his desk, overcome with grief and loss. He told me, "I can't do it. I can't read it. I am sorry." The energy of death is almost over powering in this house.

You would have thought with all of this, writing was the last thing on my mind. However, I did finish an article for a contest. It is currently being edited by other writers and my friend, Cam (THANK YOU). I hope to get those back and submit it next week. Maybe the fact that it was about Samhein helped. The mood of death and veil crossing is certainly heavy on my mind right now.

I also read some of the other blogs MetaPagan had highlighted. One was about a gathering I attended earlier in the year where Tony and I tried to enter into a discussion about skyclad with a girl who completely lost it and told us if you didn't accept seeing people naked you weren't pagan. I re-read my blog and told Tony I felt sick to my stomach. He asked me why and I said, "Damn I have a big mouth." Then I stopped and felt a peace wash over me and suddenly it occurred to me...I was probably one of the few pagans who had ever DARED to write about being a bit uncomfortable around nudity. I certainly was the only pagan outside of Tony I had met who was willing to discuss it in a civilized manner. I recalled a big debate occurring in an old e-list I was associated with about skyclad events and remembered how blindingly angry the pro-skyclad group had gotten. They were so angry many of those who had reasonable concerns to discuss (I am afraid I will lose custody of my children if I am come to events where nudity is permitted), were shamed into silence. They were expected to accept without question what was being said. They were told to stay home because their concerns about nudity meant they weren't really pagan. I can remember not even being able to make sense of the pro-skyclad groups arguments because of the anger, hatred and venom with which they delivered their message.

Please note this is not the case with the gathering I attended recently. I find those who attend to typically be willing to debate, discuss and help each other grow which is why I continue to be a big fan of their events.

My point is that in witchcraft we have made many topics taboo: Skyclad events, polyamoury, the practice of BDSM as a form of Goddess worship, the ideas of responsibility and spiritual growth, children and the craft, traditional craft versus the growing family craft, to name a few. There is no longer a debate permitted. "Real Pagans" are assumed to believe very specific things and if they don't believe them they are expect to accept in silence the commonly held belief. I constantly feel like I am saying things that are on other people's minds that they only say to their mates or their closest friends or whisper to each other at PNO afraid to be overheard. The sad thing is that most of those who haven't made their minds up about these topics probably never will because one side or the other gets so touchy an intelligent discussion is almost impossible. A large portion of pagans have fallen into the defense of their faith instead of explanation of it. They see any opposing view as threatening and therefore it must be taken out, silenced, shamed.

So I have come to believe that it is my willingness to say what I think that helped HJ's blog go over so well. I saw suicide and then I wrote about it unflinchingly. I opened my big mouth.

I decided not to alter my other blog entries. I am not ashamed of what I said. Actually I am sad really. I had hoped to meet someone willing to discuss and help bring understanding to issues that I was still grappling with. That's right I grapple. You do to, I am sure. Of course your mouth isn't as big as mine and so not many people know. Maybe I don't play things so close to vest after all. Maybe my loud mouth is mistaken for a confident one. Either way, I am speaking for the whispers, the doubters, the grapplers. If you are above doubting, grappling and quiet concern, find another blog.