When I originally started this blog post yesterday afternoon, it was a bit raw and rough.  Rough to write, a little rough to read.  When the work day wrapped up, I saved it as a draft and went on about my business, putting it aside for the night.  I spent a good chunk of the evening relaxing with friends and classmates before going home to my family.  And when I woke up this morning, I was refreshed, greeted the day with gratitude and blessings, and erased everything I wrote.

I’m an optimist by nature, always have been and always will be.  So when I hit my low spots (and I mean really low), I get stuck.  I muck about in my own personal miasma*, and it’s really hard for me to find a way out.  I hide it well and I’m more than happy to help others get unstuck from whatever they’re dealing with, but it’s really hard for me to accept the same help that I extend; for some reason I have this mentality that if something is going to be done in my life, I must be the one to do it.  By myself.  With no assistance from anyone else.  This can be a great driving force for me, but at the same time it is one of my biggest flaws.  And when this happens, the entirety of my life gets affected.  Everything stops.  The feeling of “stuck” sets in and permeates every part of my being.  Ennui eventually takes over, and I go stir-crazy within my own body.  Enter the existential crises and the never-ending loop of being stuck in my own head, seeing no way out because I can’t remember to pause and look up for a second.  It’s right there, I know it is, I just have to remember.  Yeah, this just got real.

So firstly, I want to say thank you.

Thank you Wilhelm, for all the days you spend listening to me go on about the craziness of my life, for lending your shoulder and your ear.  I know I can be selfish sometimes and I talk about myself a lot with you.  Thank you for letting me get it out, for being my sounding board, and for being one of my best and closest friends.  And for all your goofiness.

Thank you Stevie, for your words of encouragement.  They meant more to me than you know, and I hope I don’t let you (or ToW) down.  I suppose I should really be more worried about letting myself down, because in the end that’s what I’m going to wind up doing if I keep going along like I have been.  Thank you for that lesson.

Thank you Gretchen and Phoenix, for you guys just being you and loving me like you do.  Aroooooooo!

Thank you Michael, for always trying to put a smile on my face, always trying to get a laugh out of me, for the memes and the articles and the 2am texts and the hugs.  It all means a lot to me, you mean a lot to me.  I’m glad we have that crackle, whatever it is.

Thank you Douglas, my love, for always being there.  It’s been tough, what with our work schedules never matching up and never really getting to see each other these days.  Thank you for your words of encouragement when I hit a low spot, for your adorable texts and random pictures of our doggos to make me smile.  Thank you for always believing in me, especially when I don’t.  I love you more than anything.

And for those of you I didn’t mention by name, thank you.  You’re not forgotten, trust me.  You all mean a ton to me, and I love each and every one of you.

The Spring Solstice was a couple weekends ago, and I spent that weekend in Philly with friends taking workshops from the wonderful Heron Michelle of Sojo Tribe.  It was a much-needed weekend, one that reminded me with a gentle yet firm slap in the face that if things are going to happen in my life, I must make them happen.  This isn’t the same as what I mentioned before, that I must do everything with no outside help.  This was a wake up call that, in my stuck-ness, I was waiting for life to happen to me as opposed to going out and making it happen.  I was waiting for the magick to happen and forgetting that I AM MAGICK!  The lesson is still sinking in two weeks later as I start to pull myself back up.  I took that pause, I looked up, I saw the out.  I see the people standing there, hands extended, loving me unconditionally, and I smile.

I haven’t been able to do a personal Ostara ritual yet, as I was struck with the flu after my weekend in Philly and haven’t gotten quite back to 100% yet (this annoying cough really needs to go!), but I have been planning one that corresponds with Persephone’s return from the Underworld to bring Spring to the land of the living.  I recently finished a course with Gretchen and Phoenix entitled “Living A Myth,” in which I chose the myth of Persephone, and during a meditation she told me to re-write her story to make it more about her and less about her mother, Demeter.  By doing so, she has given me a sort of blueprint for my own life, at least for this Turn of the Wheel, and she reminded me that we have Work that needs to be done, even when we don’t want to do it or we don’t feel we can’t.  She saw me in my stuck-ness and gave me the tools I needed to pull myself out.

Soul Work

I’m looking at my own miasma as a blessing, now: how else could I have learned where I don’t want to be unless I spent a good amount of time stewing there?  I’m remembering to wake each day with a heart full of gratitude and a blessing on my lips, reminding myself that it doesn’t all have to be done right this very second, that I don’t have to overwhelm myself like I’m prone to do.  One breath, one step, one project, one day at a time.

Brightest and Darkest Blessings.

*Miasma: noun, an oppressive or unpleasant atmosphere that surrounds or emanates from something.

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