I had a wonderful opportunity recently to be with others who practice witchcraft and paganism. It was a wonderful time of community and I got to see for myself what my parents were so afraid of. What I discovered was my parent’s fear was rooted in the societal stigma associated with being a witch. Even though the Witch Trials happened hundreds of years ago many still live in fear of it happening again because humans fear what is different. I did my duty as the wonderful daughter and tried to fit in with society and its rules. Only, it’s not something I am capable of doing because I don’t process information the same way most people do. I can See the patterns everyone falls in and I can See the choices people are likely to make. Even my dreams are filled with omens and portents that come true 60% of the time. I have started a tarot reading practice that has had a 90% success rate with complete strangers, the only two iffy reads being someone who thought they could control the outcome and an older tarot reader I met at Ffynnon (pronounced fin-non).
Dionysus Circle, Ffynnon, Vernoina, Or
So, what I discovered in finding myself is that I am everything my parents were afraid of me being. Their fear was rooted in antiquated ideas that to be different means to be shunned by society if not an outright death sentence. I understand their fears since society still likes to harshly judge everything that is different and non-christian. I just can’t keep walking around pretending I am blind to what I See because it makes Christians uncomfortable. Today I move forward with my practice and proudly proclaim that I am a witch.
Many a millennial has complained that adulting is hard, and it really is. I spent the last three weeks trying sort out a place to stay and figuring out how to pay the bills I currently have. I also tried to juggle a couple of relationships and take time off to mourn the death of my mother. Lets just say that there are a lot of hurt feelings and I lost at least one relationship in my life. While she was a comfort to me in the past, this time I failed her somehow.
There is a part of me that wants to rant, scream, and rave at the unfairness of ot all. Like a spoiled child that expects a tantrum to solve all the problems so that you can get what you want. Instead, I am standing back, grateful to still have the love in my life that I do. It’s hard for me to leave things the way they are right now. The thirteen year old part of my brain wants to go 90’s Rom-Com to win my friend back. However, none of those scenarios work out and things stay unresolved further tainting a once healthy relationship.
So, I’m not going to do anything. I’ll be an adult and focus on what I can. NaNoWriMo is just around the corner and I’ve got to finish teasing out my outline if I plan to make goal this year. My car requires maintenance and I’ve got to work on a budget for that. Which means I have to suck it up and cut out a few unnecessary expenses. Adulting sucks but we all have to grow up sometime.
In 2020 thousands upon thousands of people flocked to the streets to riot after the death of Geroge Floyd. I agree that what happened was wrong and shows an inherent problem in our justice system and even in ourselves. The fact the people gathered in masses to declare justice for the oppressed fills me with hope that one day things can change. That we can come together as a society and help the least fortunate of us without having race, religion, gender, or creed be a deciding factor in it. Unfortunately, all our protesting and rallying can do is highlight that the problem exists. We can only really change anything by the choices we make.
There is a choice I made in my own small way that I hope is one of the things that lead to these changes. At the time I wasn’t even thinking about the choice being a revolutionary change. All I was thinking about was my daughters. Back in 2009 I gave birth to a set of beautiful baby twins. I loved those girls with their bright little smiles and how they looked at everything around them with wonder. We didn’t have the best living situation at the time though and I struggled really hard as a single parent to make sure they had everything they needed. Eventually I had to admit that what they really needed was two parents. I couldn’t provide that for them and still raise them. So I set out to find them parents through adoption with the only caveat being that it is an open adoption so that I could see that my daughters were at least happy.
When I first met my daughters’ parents it was through Skype. I was living in New Mexico at the time and they were on the East Coast. I wasn’t really expecting much and had a pretty bad feeling about the whole adoption process at that point anyway. There were a couple of potential parents I interviewed before this, all of them gave me the same line of “they were looking for a single child but wouldn’t mind two”. Those very words let me know they had no idea what it meant to even try to raise twins. To put it simply, raising twins isn’t like raising two children together at the same time, especially when you have two very active babies who like to explore in different directions. Thankfully, the parents I did choose understood this from before the adoption process. They were actually looking for twins which made the choice that much easier.
The moment that showed me these people were the perfect parents for my daughters was when the camera on the Skype call expanded to allow them to see the girls. The moment N and L saw the two girls I lost them entirely. They were so focused on the girls and what they were doing I couldn’t get a straight answer out of them to save my life. I have sat through a couple of in person interviews where the girls were playing on the floor and the prospective parents wouldn’t even look at them. At that point everything else didn’t matter. Everyone kept asking me if I was sure about my decision. Wondering if I knew the entire ramification of what would happen if ‘these’ particular people were the best choice, because L and N were originally from India and practised Hinduism. I will honestly admit that I didn’t like that they were vegetarian, but at least if my daughters were going to be vegetarian too at least it would start before they even consumed meat. Everything everyone else had to say was inaccurate, racist, and quite frankly very rude.
“My Happy Family” selfie by L
Our daughters are growing up to be beautiful young women and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I really want more people to make choices about others not on religious or racial backgrounds but on the amount of love and support they can offer. I truly believe that these are the choices that will change the world. There is currently a documentary in the works by the lovely Chithra Jeyarm called Our Daughter. You can find out more at https://fiscal.thgotham.or//project.cfm/2161/ or https://www.realtalkies.com/films.
Sorry! This product is not available for purchase at this time.
There is a lot about me that has changed since I moved away from everything that I have ever know. One of those things is being more aware of how I talk to people and how I react to the people around me. I’ve since learned that, yes, some people are dicks. However, it isn’t the majority of the population as I once thought. That a lot of the people I thought were mean we’re just reacting to my own negativity. I am doing my best to change this about myself. Personal growth comes at a cost though.
Stepping into the sanctuary the live band plays a song I heard on American Idol. I hadn’t recognized as a Christian song when David Gokey sang it. I look to my brother with the question posed on my lips. “It’s Christian Rock,” he answers my unspoken words. Everyone is standing swaying, singing, clapping, joined in the worship of a God I barely know.
The pastor steps onto the stage and stands before his audience with only a music stand between them. He starts talking about his life and quotes a few scriptures. Then tells us of times when he has failed and how the bible saved him. He closes in prayer and the banf takes over again. I sit and wait wondering when the preaching is going to start and it never comes. The pastor has imparted his message in a way I never thought possible. He just talked. There was no lecture on sin, no diatribe on morality, just a story.
Months go by and still I wait. I wait through guest speakers and church elders wondering when someone was going to start seriously preaching. It never happens. Speaker after speaker has a story from their life that relates to a struggle in the bible. I think is this what Faith really is? Not belief in a higher power but belief in the fact that everyone struggles. Everyone has weaknesses and everyone fails. Those who have faith realize they fail but also realize there is forgiveness in failure. While I sit here and wonder if there is a way to redo my life.
Random Ideas of a Chaotic Mind 