Don’t Rapture Me, Bro!

Don’t Rapture Me, Bro!

This damn road to wherever I’m going has been more of a long and winding road.

Lately, I get nudges from my gods through random songs. This happens a lot during spring, which is my Saraswati season. Saraswati season has been difficult and postponed due to strange weather. I burst into tears and had to pull over when Persephone nudged me through an ADELE song. Shit. Kali just gave me a little kick a’la the Talking Heads. This isn’t unusual, it’s just been more intense and frequent than normal.

The problem is that I don’t know what normal is anymore. No clue.

Still… In brief without getting all insanely boring and meta wit tha’ deets? Getting better. Massive improvement on all fronts, spiritually in particular.

It’s been so slow. So awfully slow. I’ve hit pay dirt in a few areas and received the messages or guidance I needed in others, but it didn’t come easy. I’m raw and exposed like a nerve. Everything hits me harder, deeper, and more directly than normal.

The not-so-nice morning of flinging myself on the living room sofa, crying and pleading to Kali to please make this all stop or at least calm down so I can get my ass to work on time? Yes. I’ve had a few more of those than I need.

I am calm on the outside, but my insides are still a mess. All of them. Improvement is slow and steady, but I’ve grown impatient. This has by far been the most difficult time of my life on all fronts.

Still… I’m a scrappy bitch when I have a mind to be. I don’t even know where the boundaries of the rabbit hole end or begin. Experiencing a very real spiritual crisis when you’re a lowly solitary eclectic who likes to write about stuff, but has no one to talk to when the current gets rough? It takes the worse and magnifies it, blowing it out of proportion. The good? It’s been hard for me to appreciate, but I try. I stick with simple joys. They are the only ones who haven’t failed me.

I’ve been reading Jean Shinoda Bolen’s Goddesses in Everywoman. It’s an excellent book and it’s helped me immensely. I am a Persephone woman with strong Athena and Aphrodite patterns. To have Persephone the archetype running wild through your psyche and worshiping Persephone the Kore or Queen of the Underworld as a patron goddess?!

The High Priestess in me revels in it. The lunar mysterious side of me adores it. It’s part of what has allowed me to go as far as I’ve gone in such a short time. Not that I have all the answers, but I’ve been on some excellent adventures at her hand.

I should have known Our Lady of Spring, Death, and Rebirth wasn’t done with me.

I shut off the receptivity valves, but apparently we’re still parting ways.

This book is one I’d recommend for any woman, Pagan, polytheist, or not. At points, I teared up because I saw myself for what I am without any filters and how some of my behaviors effect others.

I’ve found some great books that have helped me through this leg of the journey. Books remind me that I’m not alone, and you’re not either.

As an aside, The Red Book: The Red Book: A Deliciously Unorthodox Approach to Igniting Your Divine Spark by Sera Beak has been a delightfully hilarious and deeply insightful romp through creating your own eclectic and meaningful personal spiritual path. I wish I’d had a book like this years ago when I was a young woman! You know when spiritually curious girls start browsing the Wicca 101 section at Barnes & Noble? I’d love to take that girl aside and say “Put down the Silver Ravenwolf. Getcha’ a little Uncle Scotty Cunningham, and read The Red Book. You’ll thank me later.” I didn’t want to like it… One of the reviews compared her to a spiritual Carrie Bradshaw, which made me vomit. Thankfully there is some real meaty and powerful stuff under the entertaining fluff. I’ve done essentially the same thing with my own path, just in a more round about and painful way involving more drugs.

To each his own, but keep grabby your hands off my stash.

I’m still learning, but it’s all on me to do the work. I’m just worn out by all of it. I need to rest, but I can’t. Not yet.

I’d caution all those who are sticking to a solitary, eclectic path… When you have a dark night of the soul, you’d better be damn sure you have reinforcements. I’ve been delightfully skipping from one current to the next without much regard for shielding or protecting myself. The spiritual receptivity that Persephone brought me has overall been a good thing, but not on all fronts.

I’m taking it back. I’m calling the shots. I am the one who chooses the direction. I’ve learned that one can only be so open without letting the bad in with the good.

I’ve been cruelly dropped from my bubble, and allowed to sink into darker places that were not accessible before.

The honeymoon is over, kids.

Thankfully, I’m not alone. I’m making a bit of a journey next week. I couldn’t ignore the signs or the synchronicities. It’s not a long journey, since I’m fortunate to live where I do. I’m going to visit someone who might be able to shed some light on all this.

I’ve known for a while that June was the time where it would all come together and make sense.

I’ve been experiencing depression for the last few months as well… Something that is foreign and disruptive to me.

I’ve had too many points where I really don’t know what to do anymore and I’m tired of being so exhausted. I am spiritually exhausted. I smoke to cope these days instead of smoking to see. I need a middle ground or at least some peace.

So… next weekend, I’m going to go see Amma and get in line to get a hug. I need answers, clarity, help or something. Just being able to reach out to someone else and ask for help is difficult for me. I learned to be independent and good at managing my resources from a very young age. It’s been a good thing in my life, but not for spiritual matters. I don’t know it all, and sometimes even the most independent of us need some guidance.

I am the Fool… I don’t know where I’ll end up, but I know it’s where I’m supposed to go.

I just have to relax, let go, and get in line for once. Literally.

Oh… and I didn’t get raptured. I suppose that’s fine. I’ve got shit to do, and hanging out with Yahweh and Friends isn’t the best thing to do when Special K is lurking in your guts reminding you that life is tough all over, and you might as well make the best you can of it in your time on earth.


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