My Silence

When I wasn't invited to her yearly holiday party and then suddenly I was, by accident, you said that a relationship was a two way street, that if I happened not to be invited, I shouldn't take it personally because I didn't make an effort to be in that person's life. Therefore, I shouldn't have any expectations.

If being close to you or your sister means that I have to divulge every detail of my life, then no thanks!

Unconditional love is accepting. If you got me, you'd know I like my privacy, my quiet time, that I'm not flashy, that I'm not interested in petty talk or gossip about all those family members that happened to make the cut. Do you understand what I'm saying? I will not play the game and I certainly won't worship your ass-hole sister. She doesn't want me around because I won't make her my god or the centre of my world.

I see who you are now. I see who she is. You always made time for me. You understood that I wanted to spend time with you and not your sister and her silent husband. But, you haven't shown me the respect I deserve the last few years.

You're not good at keeping your word. And then the rest of us are the bad guys? Maybe that all just meant that I wasn't important to you. Remember what you said - we make time for those we value. You don't value me. 

We spent time together for your birthday. I made it a point to buy you dinner, to catch up in our usual way. And then my birthday comes around a month later and you send me wishes a few days late. Better late than never, I thought. 

You said you'd take me out and then you went silent. And you did it again. I make it a point to send you holiday gifts...and I stopped starting last year.

This year my birthday came and went and I didn't hear from you at all. I'm glad I confronted you about that. You think this is petty? It isn't. I've been working out these feelings of abandonment since I was young, these feelings of never being fully embraced by all of you save one or two but even they're write-offs!  Now I see how different we actually are. I'm a diamond in the ruff, fool!

I don't want to be invited to your sister's holiday party. I just wanted to be accepted for who I am. And you know I'm good. You know it. I'll never forget how she failed to thank me for her 50th birthday gift...except when I prompted her 3 months later! I won't forget how she didn't send condolences for any of the deaths of my in-laws. And I get it! We are not close. We do not have a relationship! If I have to reactivate my facebook account for people to send me birthday wishes or condolences, then they're not my friends. 

So yeah, when I saw how disrespectful your sister can be, I relished not sending her birthday wishes for the first time this year. If I had pulled the kind of shit she pulled on me, I wouldn't have heard the end of it. She can keep being who she is. What goes around, comes around...and that gives me great pleasure. And the kicker? I never have to lift a finger.

The joke's on me though. I saw who you were years ago...when you made fun of me as I tried hard not to stutter. I was learning, without the help of any speech therapist, how I might be able to create a kind of fluid link between the first two words...That's when I saw how good I really am, how kind and sweet and innocent...to the core. And how cruel you all truly are.

Mark my words...high priestesses go silent and are more powerful for it.

You'll See

If I can grab hold of that twinkle which appears from time to time when I'm lucid, I know I can overcome whatever's got a hold over me. Or maybe this is just how life rolls sometimes. Maybe I'm just weak. Maybe wanting is creating this suffering. Maybe resistance is the true culprit.

How do I let go or give in? And how do I know the difference and when to do either? A thought crossed my mind...I think I'd be perfectly fine to be on my own. I'm the high priestess. I'm a witch...standing in my kitchen in the middle of a forest that no one would dare go to. I'm her...staring out the window, catching wind of a herb, concocting some poultice to soothe this aching heart.

People are cruel. I'm cruel. I don't know why. If it's in me, it's inside you. But not today. Today, I am alone in this place, in my kitchen that's adorned with plants and surrounding space, with warm turkish carpets. There's no room here for greed, power or lust. I have everything I need, anything I could ever want.

Here, I am content with what I already have. I take my time getting to know myself in this lot. There is no you. There is no him. There is no her. Nor them. It's just me and a fire. It's just me and some birds. It's just me and the rain. It's just me and the moon. It's just me and some sparkles of sunlight. It's just me and my pen, my paints, my brushes, my inks, my books, my thoughts, my love.

Do you know how sacred this place is? Do you know the power I have in my hands, this power that comes from God, himself? Do you understand that the problem lies in wanting all the wrong things? Do you get that you've forgotten the truth about things? Do you understand how insensitive and monstrous you've become in the name of the American dream, the first world dream? Don't you see how you've failed? How nothing awaits you on the other end when it's all over and you cease to take in another breath?! 

I take an herb, some resin and oils...and I muster up whatever grace that's left in me to bring about the rise of good over evil. The fake mighty will fall once again. Some of us have always known the truth. You'll see. Unfortunately for you though, it shall be too late.

As for me? I'll still be standing in my kitchen going about life in the usual way, giving thanks to this opening, this opportunity, with a smile in the corner of my mouth.

Dragon Blood

I remember why I stopped going to 'alternative' cafes and crystal shops. The people who work there, minus one or two, are total flakes. Please forgive me. And the guy that served me? What a moron. When someone's got it, they've got it. Sincerity oozes out. It's unmistakable. I just finished paying $13 for an oatmilk cappuccino and a small cookie and he couldn't even muster up some grace! Never again. These guys ruin it for the healing movement. 

I've been there, done that. He reminded me of a guy I worked with at a vitamin store many years ago. Pre-Covid, you might have thought these guys were odd then but during Covid, you came to realize just how completely enveloped they are by conspiracy theories! Total right wing nuts! Not lefties, at all. They lack compassion and are so far up their own asses, they've forgotten just how elitist they are, all those things they claim to be against. 

They are in total denial. They think going to a retreat is going to shield them from their own stupidity. All that fake positivity is toxic. Why did I come here? They sell magical room sprays...but I can bet my life that they have no real understanding or desire to learn what those oils together, along with an intention, can really do. It's all just superficial nonsense.

I asked this guy to confirm the cost of the room sprays, whether they were all $20. And as he made his way around the counter to the shelf to check, he said, "The price is on the bottom." I picked it up and said, "Great, thanks." And do you know what this ass-hole said, "That's what the sign says." That alone almost made me walk out. I should have.

I said, as I headed back to the counter to pay for my order, "Well, you know how it is with signs. They're not always clear." He must have heard my tone and proceeded to be nicer. Too late!

Pretentiousness and I do not mix. Back in the day, I would have swallowed that kind of arrogance and pushed down my voice...because secretly, I thought these people were better than me. Not anymore. 

They're all just wearing masks. Like me. I should pity them. Time to head home and use my dragon blood...

Loss

I want to reach out but I'm afraid. Afraid of being pushy or too forward, loose and perceived as a desperate woman. I can't win in a losing game no matter how much effort I expend. 

I suppose this is what's called Temptation. I want a taste of a nectar I've never had in the whole of my entire life. It's difficult to admit that to myself. I feel like a loser. 

It's one of those catch-22's. Either way I go, I end up losing something. The past is gone. I have to face the music that blares, "That ship has sailed, woman!" I should probably keep this all close to the chest. Yet, this is me being creative, connecting with my muse or my inner child. I've got to give it a voice so I can come to grips with these emotions, so I reconcile this underlying pang...of grief? I must be mourning a loss...a loss so big, it encompasses areas of my life that will never be. How do I make peace with it? Tell me.

I envy those who make it look so easy, who stumble and give way to it...because they want what they want when they want it. I've never been that person. Maybe, it's faulty wiring. If I could just shift perspectives, I'd have my way. But, at what cost? Don't people realize there's a price to pay for e v e r y t h i n g ?

I can't bare hurting anyone, especially those I love who in turn, love others. It's a circle that, once broken, can never be made whole again. 

So, I miss him. I miss how I felt when I was around him. I miss the familiarity when I stood next to him. 

What does it matter, anyway? This is just me sitting on a cloud in the sky. Sooner or later, this cloud will evaporate. May the green leaf man save me from feeling the blow of a hard ground once more...

My Birthday

Today’s my birthday. I’m going to treat myself to a margarita. Or maybe a daiquiri. I’m going to sit by myself and dream about all those things I’ll probably never do. I’ll whisper my wishes to the wind in the hopes they’ll be carried closer to an angel’s ears. And then I’ll wait and ask myself how I got here. This longing will never leave me. On good days, it tastes like honey. Wait, no. It tastes like ripe peaches. On bad days, I’m looking for a white flag to save me from the abyss. Why did you make me this way? I see a void in people’s eyes. There’s no one home. Even when we’re talking, I’m looking for something else and I can’t find it. Though if you ask me what I’m looking for, I couldn’t tell you! But, it’s not this. I know why you made me this way. It’s so that I turn to you and away from them. In another time and place, I’d live exactly the way I want to. I’d find my way to your room. You’ll undress me with your eyes and I’ll feel like the most beautiful thing in the world. I’d wrap my legs around you and you’d take your arms and hold me close. Then you’d take your left hand and squeeze my backside. But, tenderly and not like some brute. I’ll remember how life doesn’t imitate art and just like that, I’m pulled back into this world...where your room is not in our house...but in someone else’s, someone I don’t know, someone who isn’t at all like me. You’re nothing like him, either.