I used to follow the moon phases. It was part of my ritual life. I used herbs and oils, drums, bells, smoke and water, song and chant. It was a way to stay in touch with the world around me, well, at least the natural part. I celebrated the Quarters and had a garden. It was nice. I was in touch.
Anyway, it helped me in many ways, not the least being that it provided a reliable and safe consistency during the decades during which my life was not a particularly safe place. And, then, you know how it is when you start to go all numb because all of the crapolicious parts of a life are too unstable and wonky and the best strategy is to go to that place inside of yourself where you can be as quiet and unnoticed as a mouse, and then stay there.
That worked for an exceptionally long time, and it is only the last year and a half or so that nothing that I have tried or done or not done has kept me as safe as I used to be, even though I can see through the filter of time that any measure of safety was a delusion, and even though I was still very mouse-like. I am kind of good at that kind of stillness and all, so I guess that is something. And, I have really good reasons for staying where I am not honored. I just do, Diary, and you know what they are and repeating them is just too painful and makes me feel too stupid for, well, for just about everything. In the process, I kept silent about all of the stuff and now that it is falling apart, like literally, I am stuck with the consequences of that silence.
Truth is that the act(s) concealing the stuff means that I have to admit that it was lying by omission. Even the best of intentions cannot be called upon when you keep that stuff to yourself. Yeah, I managed to get to this age without having learned much of anything. And, the hits just keep in coming and culminated in what happened on Monday, which is also something that I cannot bear to write about.
So, I am doing my best. We all do, yes? It has taken me a few days to begin breathing again, and I am staying as positive as possible. I have no idea how I am going to find the way to forgiving the perps, but do it I must. If I want to have any forward movement about any of this, the old or the newest, I have to find a way to forgive and get over what happened. I just have to.
So, anyway, I had the car fixed today and stopped at a discount store to get some underwear and cleaning equipment, two categories of completely worn out and un-useful stuff. And, as long as I was there, watches were on sale for only a few dollars and I bought one. I has the little window to show the phases of the moon and when I saw it I sort of tingled or something, because I used to have one of these cheap watches and I really liked it. For a pittance, I have one again.
Since I can never take something just as it is, it started me thinking about my pre-mouse ritual life days. And, I remembered the full-ish moon last night and that it is July and that is the Thunder Moon, if you think about it as July around here having an abundance of thundery storms, which we have been having a lot this past week or so. It is also the Buck Moon, which means that it coincides with the new growth of antlers on animals that have antlers or the potential for having antlers. It is also some other kind of moon, but I cannot remember what that is. Huh.
If you think about it, both are aspects of renewal, the whole new antler and growing up/older thing, and the thunder, auditory manifestation of lightening, something on which the prairies depended for cleansing fire which leads to more renewal. That may be a stretch, but I do not care. I comforts and pleases me and it helps me. I just cannot seem to stop wandering back to feeling hopeful. I am not complaining, even now when it seemed impossible. I just believe in something better than pain, particularly when the meanness seems to be a justification in itself.
As for the forgiveness aspect, I am trying. I really am. I asked the betrayal's responsible parties why it all happened and there are no answers, just the statement that it was thought to be the right thing to do, given that I would not cave to the seriously unreasonable demands that I refused two weeks ago. Of course, the demands were thought specious only by me and lying and creating this mess is thought to be an appropriate action and punishment, and, as long as we were discussing it, I was again asked to do the things that I refused to do in the first place because they are still personally unethical, although just this side of legal. All I am feeling is stupid and distressed about how impossible it is for some people to like or love you for just who you are and are so willing to hate you for what you are not and cannot ever be. I am stuck. I am damned if I cave and attacked if I do not.
I do have to admit, Diary, that sticking to my ethics, even in the face of
what happened, is a small bit of pride for me. Big-picture-wise, it
would be much smarter to just give in and do what they want, but no one could ever accuse me of being smart. Or, wise.
As regards our Thunder Moon, I might not go out in the yard tonight, partake of a little naked drumming and howl to the heavens. It will be full and officially full at about 1:30 in the morning, but I am thinking that I could go out there, pull my chair out of the garage and enjoy her roundly, glowing and lovely, sweet fullness and a freshly made martini. I might do that. Man, I have been wishing for the past several days that I still smoked. It is times like this that have me yearning for a fresh pack, a new lighter and a place to indulge where no one will shame me for it. I mean, just a few cigarettes, not a whole pack or anything, well, maybe a pack, but no more than that, just enough to get me through this. I mean, surely that cannot be asking too much, yes?