Shabbat Aquarius Full Moon/Lion's Gate Portal Shalom

in order to prepare and perform ritual tonight for the full moon, I'm immediately stuck, thinking "what can use to cleanse my aura before, or use for anointing myself after?"  and then, "I know I have homemade rose powder in my altar box (along with an aura cleansing tool), it's just not accessible at the moment!"  frustrating.  so I go out to the meerspeset to see if the moon is visible in the sky, and There She Is - appearing in a break in the clouds, and as always, taking my breath away.  there.  I can just cleanse my aura in moonlight, and use fresh, clean, moon water for anointing myself after I've done my ritual.  we make do with what we have in the moment, yes?

 

so I fling my arms out wide and facing east, turn myself around in the moonlight to the south, west, and north, opening myself up to - and inviting in - all the loving energies flowing around and through me.  I ask them to help remove all energy and emotion that isn't mine, and doesn't belong to me, so that I feel uplifted, my heart open, and the energies I want to work with can move freely through me.  I thank them for joining me as I endeavor to stand in my own light.

to cleanse and prepare my space, I light my Shabbat candles and use my regular, everyday broom to sweep the meerpeset while envisioning a glowing, healing light charging the area with loving energy, peace, hope, and positivity.  I sing a little 'thank you' song about cleansing my space with love and gratitude as it begins to feel magical and protected.

 

 

taking my bowl of water in both hands, I state out loud the things I would like to release, clear, and receive some clarity around in my life, such as anger, resentment, and more mundane issues pertaining to my flow of financial abundance - or lack thereof - this month in particular, and in my life in general.  I then sit with my candles and bowl of water, in my protected space, and once again call to my ancestors (and others) to help center and ground my energy while connecting to my Higher Being.  I bring my hands to my heart and speak to that energy center in my body, and to my third eye, so that I may be better guided by my insight and intuition in my meditations.

 

opening the case where I keep my tarot cards, the first deck I see is the Thoth deck, which feels just right for tonight's reading.  settling back into my lounge chair under the light of the full moon - and the energy of the lion's gate portal - I begin to shuffle...awkwardly.  this deck is still new to me and I've hardly used it since I got it because it's slightly different from the more popular and well-known decks, and requires (in my opinion) more study to be properly understood.  so as I'm feeling the cards slip through my fingers from one hand to the other, I get a 'jumper', which I don't always work with.  since my hands are small, I have several ways that I shuffle decks, and there are times when a card will align awkwardly, or slip out of place, so I'll just tuck it back in and keep on shuffling.  this one dove all the way under my chair, face up, so I set it aside and went on with my shuffle until I was satisfied, and drew a card.

 

 

10 of Wands.  curious.  and the jumper was the Princess of Wands.  even curiouser.  

the 10 of Wands in the Crowley/Harris deck is called Oppression, and indicates that one has become detached from their spiritual sources, and that no matter how much force is used (implying too much force has already been used), it cannot be brought to bear on the situation at hand.  feeling trapped where we can't experience life the way we want, with the flames having run rampant from lack of understanding, devouring one's self from within.  failure against a strong opponent, revenge, cruelty, malice, and injustice. 

the Princess of Wands is considered the Earth aspect of fire - two elements that tend to strengthen each other, yet this pairing is considered combustible, implying this Princess has a reactive personality.  she is associated with the 'whims of the body', or the 'animal soul'; considered to be turning her back on the mundane to follow her passions and inspiration.  she is energetic, vital, enthusiastic, and courageous, in no way afraid to express herself.  she tends to be ungrounded, and subscribes to her own brand of justice which can run towards vengeance and cruelty.  having that tiger by the tail can indicate setting one's self free from old fears and patterns by bringing them to the surface and conquering them, usually learning these lessons 'the hard way'.  she represents the silence to which all things return, and is considered both permanent and non-existent.  consuming all that come into her sphere, she is Lilith; the dark, mysterious Feminine, and her body is the fuel of the Sacred Fire. 

wow.  that has a lot of deeply personal meaning for me, which I will - believe it or not - keep to myself.  but if you know me...you may, as they say, Know.

 

 

I let the water sit out overnight to absorb all the good moonlight it could, and just before dawn, I thanked it for soaking up the things I wished to release, clear, and gain clarity on while my intentions begin to weave themselves into the fabric of my life in a peaceful, calm, and loving way.  I released those intentions from the water, and returned it to the Earth by pouring it through the drain in the meerpeset to run into the ground below to purify it.  

skipping the anointing as I already poured out the water, I once again brought my hands to my heart center and third eye while repeating the mantra 'I am love, I am loved, I radiate love'.  there happened to be some lime seeds hanging out in the bowl I used for the moon water, and before I poured it out, I took the seeds out of it and set them aside for planting.  we'll see how that goes.

Shabbat Shalom, and Blessed Be! 

"To David" - from my mother

my mother died 7 1/2 months ago, and today is her birthday.  she would have been 77.  my brother has been sending me random boxes of her things (well, his wife is probably packing and shipping the boxes), and in the last box, there was a folder of Mom's writing both from her school days, and after.  in particular, there were several poems to and about a man named David, and a letter to her father begging to be allowed to come home.  I wish she were here to tell me about what must have been a difficult time in her life, but she chose to take her secrets to her grave.  I hope she found David in the afterlife - whatever that might have looked like for her - and I wanted to give voice to her longing.  she deserved at least that much.  I mean...there could be a reason these particular poems found me, whether my sister-in-law or my brother picked them purposefully out of a pile of other useless crap, or it happened organically, it feels like I was meant to see them, and as is my way, share.

To David

Do you remember, darling, our love?

I do - always, but especially tonite.

We were having a campfire to celebrate harvests end,

And as we sat - I began to sing and strum the guitar.

The people said I was great -

That I sang with real feeling

For the tears stood in my eyes.

I sang, "We Shall Overcome," and they thought the tears were for the Cause.

But they were not - they were for you.

For as I sang I remembered - 

Our days on the picket line, the nite in jail, 

Our first date and all of those thereafter.

I thought of what might have been - 

The children we might have had.

And then I thought of how you left me

And you said, "You'll forget me, but please, not too fast or easily."

I turned away then to hide my tears

And you went -

I watched until you got your first lift

In a chain of many, which took you away forever

Now, the seas separate us

But darling, I'll always belong to you even when I sleep beneath the Israeli sod - and you beneath the the Louisiana soil.

In death, if not in life, we shall overcome and live again to love.

    - Sue Meistrich, 12/5/63, 6:30pm

13 Feb. 1964

I am 19, an upper middle class, white girl.  The only thing that makes me a non WASP is my jewish religion and culture.  I suppose my normal pattern would have been college, job and marriage to a "nice jewish boy", a family, etc.  I would have lived a secure life, nice and easy with no disruptive influences.

I have, however, already broken with the pattern.  The whole thing began on 19 Sept. when I was arrested for civil rights in Syracuse.  At this time I met a man - David - who I fell subsequently in love with.  Now I am faced with a decision.  I have a choice to make between two lives.  The life I mentioned above, conforming to the "normal" pattern and the life I see ahead as David's wife.  I see a life much closer to the raw elements of life.  The element of drink, pot, sex, etc.  I see pure love, but sorrow, misery and heartbreak because of differences of background.  I see a man who loves me, but can offer me nothing in the material senses, a man who is mad at the world, and who must sometimes take out his frustrations on me, but thru it all I see a man in love who is tortured by this love.  I see a life with no security, only love to hold it together.  Children who grow up angry at the world as my husband is.  I see myself cut off from my people and relatives.  

I can now choose between this life of love and the other, a life of security without as much meaning as the other.  my problem - do I come back penitent, to my accustomed life and try to be a person in the "normal" pattern, or do I break with tradition to follow love wherever it leads me.  I cannot make the choice myself and yet I have no one I can turn to who is not prejudiced for one side or the other.  I wait for an event which will make me decide - in the meantime I am in a hellish limbo.

DREAMS  (8 April 1964)

I see the trains in

the yards going- 

god knows where.

And I long to jump

on one and go with it,

But I go home - to a bed

with sheets.

I hear my man- broke,

Saying

Come with me,

I have nothing but- come.

But I go home- where the dog

eats better than him.

I read the poet who tells

me to catch the winds of

destiny wherever they drive

the boat-

But it is too late.

I am a solid citizen- shit!!!

11:30 PM Aug. '70

When does it stop hurting - if ever?

When do longings die - or do they?

Why must I stop seeking

How long will I cry.

If tomorrow I see David

What then will I say

Look out poss - whats to ya

Come lets go away

 

But, now I have a husband - proper

Now I have a son

And a daughter - also proper

Will I never, ever win.

When I feel youth around me

With their psychedelic colors

Searching, crying, learning, trying

Then my heart cries from within

Come and hear what I have suffered

Hear of battles never won

Know that I will feel forever

Tho the things be dead & gone.

Its a long way till we finish

All the things that we must do

And in the end are only

things so dead & gone

 

memories will I cherish

in the dark & secret nite

but never will I give up

the long & hurtful fite

in my pillow will I smile

at a face that's long gone by

but mostly I remember

and in the dark I cry.

My Mother

My mother died the other day, and while going through her papers I suddenly found the reason for the far away look in her eyes she had every July, my mother hated July, I learned the reason for the black mark on the calendar in her private date book every July 16th.  

My mother was once beautiful, I know I have seen many pictures of her.  She was a brilliant woman and none of us knew why she had never finished college and become a plain housewife.  Now I know.  I have read her diaries and now I understand her as I never did when she lived.  

She was a free girl beautiful and reflective, able to find the beauty in the everyday things of the world we all take from granted and never really see.  She saw them, she could be transfixed by the trees against the sky, or sit up all night and watch the play of the air and the stars.  She loved storms, wild storms, when the snow and the wind and the trees lash at each other and the forces of nature threaten to overwhelm us.  She loved to watch a hurricane or a tornado and often would not take shelter but watch and revel in the passions of the world.  She found in them an answer to her own passionate nature, unbridled and untamed.

My mother loved then, she loved a man, she loved him with all the force of her nature and she allowed her passion to rage unchecked.  But she always knew that if they were to marry they would destroy each other.  She did destroy him in the end, he followed her to the city and became an addict, I don't know what became of him for she suddenly stops writing of him and yet every once in a while she mused in her diary about meeting him again and she admits to herself that she would once again follow him and leave her family, her husband and her children.  As I said she loved with all her being.

It was after she left this man that she met him.  The other one.  she never loved him. that she knew, but she conceived a child by him.  She was too proud to marry a man she did not love and so she bore the child and the burden of unwed maternity alone.  She left him with her head held high, and he never saw the scars on her soul.  He never knew how her arms longed for the child she could not have, the child she saw only once in her life, the tiny infant daughter we never knew about.  Never once during her life did he say anything about it, but her eyes grew dark every July and she cried.  

She wrote about an Independence Day weekend that she walked the streets of the city, finding no one to speak to, no place to have a meal, her large belly and unringed hand prevented her from going in to a nice restaurant and her pride prevented her from asking assistance.  She wrote how she slept in a downtown fleabag hotel until the time came to bear the child she had suffered for, and how when it was over she prayed for help to live the rest of her life without the child.  She wrote of the long days she spent looking at each baby she came near wondering if it was hers and knowing that she had no right to think of it, no right to wonder about its new parents or its life.  She wrote each July of what her daughter would be doing now, and followed the age of her child faithfully all her life, but she never said a word to me.  

The following year she met and married my father and settled down to an outwardly respectable life.  She had children who she raised with all the love she had left in her but something had died in her and she was no longer the wild girl she had been before.  She was a good mother and a good wife.  She and my father lived together in peace and happiness for many years and never a word to us about the weight on her heart, the burden she bore alone.

My mother died the other day and now I know why she hated July.

*it's a little weird to hear her write in what's supposed to be my voice, and assume my feelings.  I never noticed my mother liking or hating any month over any other, and I never knew the 16th was a hard day for her.  I does happen to be my half-sister's birthday, so I guess that answers that one.  Mom eventually finished college and ended up with two Bachelor's degrees and two Master's degrees, and there's nothing shameful about being a housewife, 'plain' or any other kind, in my opinion (Mom also had a long and lucrative career as a librarian).  she did not strike me as someone who cared much for the weather, past being inside when it didn't agree with her, which was often, though she did enjoy waking up in the early hours of the day when meteor showers tend to happen, and I did appreciate that about her.  while it sounds to me like her friend David came with some serious red flags, I can respect that from 19 through 26 she thought he was the great love of her life.  did she continue to pine for him after all the long years?  or did there come a point in time when the 30 years she spent living, loving, and fighting with my dad eventually overshadow David's memory?  I wish there was more to read, but what I've shared here is the bulk of what I was given, aside from a few other poems and letters.  she did eventually tell me about her other daughter, probably just over 10 years ago when my own baby born out of wedlock was in Kindergarten, and she had found her.  she wanted us to meet, and so we did.  I think she's a cool lady, and I call her my half-sister.  her mom, the woman who raised her, thanked my mom for completing her family.  I think it's sweet, I'm glad it had a happy ending for my mom, and I hope it brought joy to my half-sister and her mom, too.  it's sad to think how much more we could have shared with each other if my mom had managed to parent more from a place of love than a place of fear, but she did what she could with what she had, and she did her best, just like most of the rest of us.  so many lost chances, so many missed opportunities for understanding, healing, and communication.  people - talk your stories.  you never know which ones may make a difference in someone's life.  I wished I'd known more about my mom...I wish she'd felt empowered to tell me more about who she was.  either way, I loved her.  

💙 💜 💙 

Solstice/Shabbat Community Tarot Reading

the whole reason I started making it a point to have Shabbat dinner on Friday nights was because it was an important and special family ritual that I grew up with that I wanted to continue with my own child, so he could have that same sense of connection and tradition, and a way to honor our cultural heritage. with him gone, I'm not entirely sure how to bring in Shabbat on my own.  I can light the candles and say those prayers.  I can say the rest of the prayers we say (the same ones my dad said) over the bread & wine, and take my sip, eat my pinch...but I'm not much in the mood for chicken soup, or a meal.

my recent foray into embracing the sabbath has been meditating on, and pulling tarot cards for, a community reading, but my well is empty right now, and I have no overflow with which to serve others at the moment. I thought of either doing a one-card pull for myself, to find a place to focus my energy, or write out a ritual for the Solstice tomorrow.  can I do both?  let's find out...  

 

 

...turns out I can't.  again, my well is currently empty, and everything is really hard and taking extra long for me right now.  please be patient with my grieving process, as it interlaces with all the other stress I am/we are navigating during this intense astrological/planetary time.

I set up a lovely Solstice altar with candles, a chalice of water, quartz crystals, garnets, citrine, and amber.  I put on the binaural beats, did my meditation, and pulled my cards.  then I realized I had left 6 of the cards from that particular deck tucked in my tarot journal from the last reading I did.  nice.  so I put the cards away and tried to work on a ritual to share instead, but I was just too tired and foggy to write it all out, so I called it a night.

 

 

today, this is my best: 

ritual - take a ritual bath.  circle up outdoors, preferably around a fire pit.  cast a circle, call in the quarters.  honor Sun deities, the Divine Light, Yang energy...the root, sacral, and solar plexus chakras.  sing, play, dance, drum, feast - Have Sex.  gather and direct the energy raised towards a specific purpose.  thank the quarters, open the circle, ground your energy.  blessed be.

    colors - orange, yellow, white, gold

    crystals - sunstone, serpentine, garnet, amber, citrine, carnelian

    flowers - roses, marigolds, sunflowers, seasonal fruits & veggies

    incense - sandalwood, saffron, frankincense, laurel

    activities - make flower crowns, garden, perform sun salutations, charge crystals out in the sun, 

    pick berries, lay in the sunshine

 

reading - 

image shows 6 cards from the Tarot of a Moon Garden deck, two garnets, and one citrine, on a pastel cloth with silver stripes.

 

what is the sun illuminating for us?  Temperance - balance, moderation, harmony...peace, patience.    the sun is shining a light on our inner calm and perspective, the ways we've learned not to get caught up in drama and adapt to the situations in our lives.  being in touch with who we are brings contentment, while taking the time to re-evalute our priorities will bring us an even greater sense of purpose.

what energy are we currently radiating out to the Universe?  The Tower - destruction, upheaval, chaos.  well, that's not a good look...though it could be!  this card is about change in the most profound way.  a Big change, happening Fast.  throw out the old, and start building something new.  this is unavoidable and scary, but usually brings us a truer foundation than what we were standing on before.

what do our souls need us to release to the sun?  6 of Staffs - victory, pride, celebrity.  all hail the conquering hero, riding through the crowd with their head high, drinking in the cheers...we need to let that go.  perhaps it's not the time to pat ourselves on the back for a job well done?  or just put the brakes on the swelled head that can come with it? 

how can we use the medicine of the sun for our growth?  Ace of Pentacles - prosperity, new beginnings.  this new cycle is suggestive of material things, of a seed that needs to grow in the secure ground of our stability.  nurturing this energy is abundantly rewarding, like watching our dreams become reality, and being ready for the challenge of realizing our potential.

what will manifest from our Solstice intentions over the next 3 months?  6 of Swords - moving on, leaving something behind.  in this card, we see a hardship overcome, and a move towards normalcy returning.  we may not like what had to leave behind to get here, and feel defeated and tired from the challenges we've had to face and overcome, but we are healing, and possibly heading towards a stronger version of ourselves.  we need to think rationally about the best ways to get there.

message from the sun?  Wheel of Fortune - changes, cycles, fate/destiny.  no one can avoid their turns on the wheel.  we must remember to enjoy the good while we have it, because everything can and does change in an instant, then changes again.  while the process can be uncomfortable, that inevitability is the only thing we can rely on - the Universe will maintain it's own balance, and we're mostly just along for the ride.

well that's all pretty intense...but shining a light on our Temperance while we're caught up in Tower energy will certainly bring our consciousness into how we're being the 6 of Staffs, and that Ace of Pentacles brings some hope to the hardships of the 6 of Swords as we all go for another turn on the Wheel of Fortune. the recent eclipses (lunar & solar) with so many planets in retrograde (four!) has been a wild ride, and while we're coming out of it, the astrology speaks to there being even more turmoil on the horizon.  so stay sharp, keep focused, and have your eyes on the prize (whatever that may be for you).

 

 thank you for coming along, commenting, and sharing - this reading is for anyone who wants/needs it!  as always, I hope there's something in here for you, personally, and feel free to contact me for a private reading.  

💙💜💙

 

man crush

never having aged

          except in my bones

I want to do it

                           dirty

like teenagers

in an alley

          after the show

behind a dumpster

my stockings rip

as your hands clutch

desperately

at my thigh

god how I want him - want to get him alone, so I can seduce him into long kisses, groping at each other up against the car in the parking lot.  moaning hard into each other's mouths, sucking each other's air in with our tongues...hot breath on necks in the dark, the desperation of our advancing age forcing us to hurry, get it all in while we can - like teens holding off their parents call that it's time to come in.  can't sleep for thoughts of him - infatuation runs deep.

I want to run with you
                            fast as we can
            to nowhere
holding hands
laughing       screaming
with joy
at the thrill of being alive
with nothing else to do
but feel each other rising
in a world of possibility 

your electric skin
crackling
beneath my fingers
discovering worlds in our eyes
sinking
in the ocean
pressing against
my flesh
from inside
your lips
our hair
wild
in the wind

I'm not as good a parent as people think I am, but I'm probably better at it than I think. (content warning for frank discussion of abortion, and swear words)

since many of my friends seem to think I'm 'god's gift to parenting' (joking, but lots of people tell me what a good mom I am pretty often), let me tell you how I came to it.

the first time I got pregnant, I was 22, living in Florida, with a bunch of us irresponsible young adults sharing a house together that was a filthy mess, and I had 50 pot plants growing in my closet.  my boyfriend was a self-possessed asshole who wanted to have sex with just about every woman he laid eyes on, so I thought long and hard about whether having a baby at that time, in that place, with him, was the right thing - while my idiot boyfriend spent a lot of time screaming at me that I COULDN'T have it, that he wasn't ready to 'ruin his life', and I had no right to ruin it for him.  he tore my favorite tapestry into shreds and kicked the door off the house to illustrate his sincerity, at which point, one of our roommates came into our room, yelled at the boyfriend to leave me alone, and took me off to Key West for the weekend, where we slept on a beach, and woke to discover that we had laid our blankets out on a massive field of goose shit.  after spending the morning in the laundromat washing our blankets and clothes before wandering around town not able to go in anywhere because we were barefoot, we headed back to the house where I devised a ritual involving two apples - one with an 'x' carved into it, and another with an 'o' - that I placed in a paper bag, and took with me to the ocean beach on a full moon. after communing with the waves and the night, and calling on the Goddess to help me choose, I reached into the bag, drew out an apple at random, and saw that it was the one with the 'x'.  I would have an abortion.  I ate that apple, tossed the other one into the ocean waves, and informed my crappy boyfriend that he needed to come up with half the money for the procedure.  he called his mommy, and she sent us the whole amount because, as she explained to me when I questioned her choice, "your instinct as a mother to save your children is very strong".  I told her he'd have been better 'saved' by having to get a job and come up with the money to take care of his responsibilities himself.  the roommate who took me to Key West drove me to the clinic where I was given a shot of demerol and valium, then had my uterus scraped out with an iced-tea spoon, and vacuumed.  after the drugs wore off enough, I was sent home to recover in my own bed.  I have a vague memory of the shmuck boyfriend sending his underage girl-crushes to keep me company, because I'm sure I didn't want to see him, but I sent them away, because eww.

the second time I got pregnant was not long after that (less than a year), after we three roommates had moved to New York, and I was so stupid, I was still 'dating' that asshole, even though he treated me like garbage, and cheated on me constantly.  he refused to believe it was even his (because if he was sleeping around, it meant I was, too, right?  wrong.).  I made an appointment with the abortion clinic straight away, and loser boyfriend made a big stink about having to take the day off of work from from his shitty, minimum wage job at the deli making sandwiches, to ride his bike to where I was living, to drive me - in my car - and pay his half for this second procedure (no calling mommy this time).  we had fun terrorizing the Jesus-freak protesters that were terrorizing the women trying to get into the clinic, but after having the same injection, and the same scraping and vacuuming, and he had driven me home (in my car), when he left to get to his all-important job, he did do a decent thing and called my best friend to tell him I had just had an abortion, and could probably use some company. my bestie did come over with his girlfriend, and they spent the afternoon with me, which was nice of them, and almost made forgive the boyfriend for being such an asshole.  I hope I broke up with him, then, but I probably didn't...I mean, I did eventually (obviously), but not that day.

I managed to not get pregnant for awhile after that - not until I started dating my most serious boyfriend to date, when I was 28 or so, who I got pregnant with in the first few months of our relationship. I was furious at him, and remember showing up at his house in the middle of the night to yell at him about it, and throw one of my wooden clogs at his head.  but he paid his half, and took me to Planned Parenthood to have my third abortion - I had just met this guy and started going out with him - I wasn't going to have his baby!  he sat anxiously in the waiting room because I told him I was going to make him come in and watch the process, but the clinicians who performed the procedure talked me out of it quickly by telling me that most men passed out during the process, and then they would have to deal with him and his nonsense, rather than tending to me and my needs, so why bother.  this procedure took place in Vermont, where they Don't knock you out, and I was a bit apprehensive, but the pain wasn't bad, and I made it through ok.  when I came back out afterwards and told this boyfriend that I was ready to go home, he had the deer in the headlights look to him, saying he'd been sitting there sweating it out, waiting for them to call him in, and I thought 'good, that's fine with me'. we broke up for awhile after that, but then moved back in together, and I got pregnant Again - I may have tried to convince my guy that we should have the baby and get married, but he was Not into that idea, so there was a fourth abortion, and another eventual break-up.

several years later, when I was 34, there was a murder-suicide involving two friends of ours in the small town we lived in, and I went to visit my now ex to tell him about it (he had moved a few towns away for work), and we coped with the stress by having sex.  guess what?  yeah...the orgasm went through me like a lightening bolt (like the lightening path through the Kabbalist Tree of Life) and I knew instantly that I was pregnant again.  I said as much to ex-boyfriend, but he didn't believe I could know that.  I continued to 'know that' for the next two weeks as I drove past Planned Parenthood every day, twice a day, on my ways to and from work, and I didn't want to go and get the pregnancy test until I knew for sure what I wanted to do about it (because I knew I was pregnant, you see).

I thought that on the one hand, I was pregnant with an ex-boyfriend who I cared about deeply, even though we had moved on from each other, and not some loser I picked up in bar for a one night stand.  I thought about what a good and decent person this guy is - his work ethic, his heath, his heart and soul, his music. I thought about how I used to tell myself that I would never have kids period, because I loved my freedom to move through life as I chose, and how a baby would ruin that for me - that I was selfish person and didn't much like kids on the whole.  I used to think that if I ever did choose to have a baby, I would only do so if I were married to the love of my life, and lived in a nice house with a picket fence, and the whole 1950's bullshit American dream story, and I also knew that my life was never going to look like that.  I didn't want another abortion, for fear of turning my womb into Swiss cheese, and I had had enough of death, and wanted to embrace life, so I chose to have my son.  he knows this story.  he knows that I was in no way prepared to have him, but that I CHOSE to. he was wanted.  I finally went to Planned Parenthood, got the pregnancy test, told them I was going for it on my own, and had them set me on the right path with a prescription for pre-natal vitamins, and lots of literature to read up on what was about to go down in my new life, as a 35 year old impoverished single mom.

my ex didn't ask to become a father.  my son didn't ask to be born.  it was chance, or circumstance, or coincidence, or synchronicity, or whatever you call it, but ultimately it was a choice I made that involved the lives of three people, two of which weren't me.  so I made another choice - I chose to let my son live his life the way he chooses.  I thought, 'if I'm going to bring a perfect, innocent being into this world for no reason other than not wanting to have another abortion because I was irresponsible about having sex without using proven birth control methods, than I was going to do my best to let that being lead me in knowing how to parent him'.  I saw/see my role as a sort of body guard - prevent the child from doing himself severe harm (physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually), but past furnishing the basic necessities of life (food clothing shelter), mostly just asking open-ended questions to help him chose how to raise himself.  even on my best days, I manage to screw it up somehow, but the child is growing, learning, achieving, and making me so proud in general because he's such a great person.  not the smartest, the fastest, or the strongest, but smart enough to know what it means to be a decent person, fast enough to know slow and steady wins the race, and strong enough to shoulder his own burdens (of which, I hope there are very few). I've been lucky, in the sense that I was prone to saying that since 'the Universe is said to only give you what you can handle, than it gave me the world's easiest child to raise because it knew I wasn't up to the challenge of anything else'!

so, to all those folks who tell me what a great mom I am - I'm not.  I'm just a person who has a fair amount of resentment about some of the ways in which I was parented, and made some adjustment to what I think my parents did that worked, and what didn't.  like I said, I mostly let the growth process happen on it's own, and steered my kid away from things that might cause him bodily harm.  when he was a baby, I'd say "ah ah ah!" instead of "no", saving 'no' for truly life-ending dangers.  if he did something I liked, I would praise him in a high pitched voice - for something I didn't like, I'd use low tones.  I would pay attention to behaviors I wanted to see repeated, and ignore those I didn't.  it's kind of like training a dog, really...I am naturally creative, and would rather play inside my imagination that do most other things, so I was great at stimulating a growing baby's natural curiosity and wonder, but completely useless at teaching anything about how to shave, or, say, 7th grade math and science (I chose to leave that to professionals, with more or less success, given the individual educators).  in any case, if you're one of the folks who thinks my kid is great, then feel free to use these techniques yourself.  the BEST possible advice I can give to potential parents is this - DO NOT HAVE CHILDREN UNTIL YOU FEEL READY TO DO SO.  by that, I mean think about how ready you are to come so close to the edge of wanting to kill yourself and everyone else, including your children, and then somehow mange to Keep Your Cool and Not Do It, then maybe you can handle it.  now, I only had one kid, without a partner, so take that into account, too.  I didn't have another relationship I was trying to navigate while raising my child, and I can't imagine that's easy, let alone doing that with Multiple kids!  parenting is no joke (though it IS supremely important to laugh, a lot), if you plan to do it right, and never at any point do I think I'm doing it right.

and when I screw up, I APOLOGIZE.  that's really big too, because my mom, to this day, has Never apologized for any of the many things I could (and in some cases, have) legitimately ask her to apologize for.  just do your best to love them for all your worth.  treat kids like people because they are.  I have been asked, "why do you ask for your son's input on things?"  and I respond, "because he's a person, and has opinions, and I like to take that into account when making decisions that affect him".  I did this as soon as he was old enough to talk, and know his own mind...4?  maybe 5?  I mean, I didn't consult him about major life decisions, but I'd ask him what he wanted to eat, or wear, or how he wanted to wear his hair...or who he wanted to play with, or let touch him.  and by most accounts, he's a pretty great kid - a little goofy, always ready with a joke, but if that's the worst anyone can say of him, than that's not too shabby in my book, all credit to him.  also, Don't Have Unprotected Sex Unless You Are Ready And Willing To Live With The Possible Consequences.  that is all.  just keep it in your pants, and don't rush into anything you can't handle.  and just assume you can't handle parenting.  it's crazy out here ~

Trip Tick (content warning: body fluids, sexual content, 'coarse language', possible sarcasm...what the fuck, we're all adults, right? make your choices.)

full moon blood ritual by the river...

nighttime.  the house asleep.  heart thumping, the sealed jar taken down and out beneath the swollen spring moon.  to the river, swiftly, through the forest.  down the rocks and across the sand, to the water's edge.  so beautiful...but there's little time.  draw, with the big stick, a circle in the sand.  mark the directions, and say hello.  open the jar, hold it up, think about what's in it, how old it is, where it came from.  why.  place it on its side in the river.  let its blood run out.  set it free.  is this what it was meant for?  didn't it seem like it had more of a story to tell?  why?  what has been set loose?  where did it go?  too long, too long..!  rinse it out and seal it up; time to go.  thank those who watch over, in the opposite direction.  grateful for the big stick, up over the rocks, across the grassy strip, into the trees.  heart back to thumping because it's bear season, but the sounds of footsteps and a big stick meaning to be respectfully heard should be enough, and the scent they would be after is back in the river, now, anyway.  the house lights comfortably close, steps slow, breathing expands out.  now what?


equinox sap, rutting season.

the drums bring her back.

where the hell..?  where am I now?

she wonders.

oh yeah, the River.  awesome!  I love these people!

her head bobs deeply with the beat as she smiles, digs the rhythm.  duende.  she changes her direction and does a little spin, changes it up, and one of the drums comes with her.  she lets him go because she needs to steady herself after such a bold move, and find the swing again.

I was lost just a minute ago, need to balance!

so she catches the net the drum throws out, and hangs in.

right.  it's time.

moving gently in waves towards the altar, she takes a deep breath and begins to gather in the energy of the drummers and the dancers, pulling it into her.  she throws another spin in, but wilder, and more focused.  feet stamping.  arms stretching, reaching, encompassing...she throws her head back and bends her knees, then lifts the bowl, slowly, carefully, overhead.  gazing up at it, and out into the heavens.  she pours a smooth stream of blood over the rocks of the altar where it pools around the bases of dozens of candles, offering plates, flowers and herbs, crystals, fruits bones grains mixed with honey and wine seeping into the stones  dripping into the earth  where they danced
                                                                                                                                   where they danced

hear us.  amen.

the drums were signaling, so she came back again.  swaying with the bowl in her hands, dripping its last onto the flowers before her feet, she bowed to the altar and replaced the bowl.  dancing back, she turned to face the drummers, and they all met her eyes.  yes.  they beat the ritual out.  a collective whoop from all those dancing set a seal on the night's work, and some fell to the ground, some shook out last ya-yas, and a few were left spinning...spinning...and laughing.  there were sighs, and lots of breathing.  then came the hugs.  everyone embraced in what became an all-group mosh, with many sighs, deep with feeling and the closeness of days of journeying.  the drummers joined in and all hands reached to massage arms
                                             shoulders
                                             necks.

of those who were hungry, they went to food.
of those who were thirsty, they went to drink.
of those who were tired, they went to sleep.
of those who were aroused, they made love.

many made love.  many made it with others.

many did it roughly, like animals - out in the open, biting clawing growling, with teeth blood and bruises.  like a good fight, fierce and tight.  a coupling.  a mating ritual.  death.

three did it hidden in a grove like fairies, all soft and fluttery, breath letting out in peals and tiny gasps, exquisite.  a wonder, a discovery.  life.

one did it alone.  and with everyone, everywhere.  rebirth.
(and they had pie)


his father's tools in his hands conquer the world.


this tragic hero, this...John of Arc.  John of Philly, California.  John of My Heart.

this motherfucker.

this work of art.

what can be said would be right?  shine on you crazy diamond?  I don't even know how that hurts.  I can't walk the walk, and I can't talk the talk, but I do my best, so fuck off.

sing for your supper.

in this world...
                                                                                                                                                       
                                                                                                                                                      amen 

Bread Crumbs & Brandy

so...seasonal affective disorder, and the January blues.  it usually hits me right between Halloween and Truthsgiving, which is the most current, Native-American-centered term I am familiar with for the day many citizens of Amerikkka celebrate during the month of November to commemorate the colonizing of the land that government holds.  the combination of the decreasing light, and this horrific practice happening all around me (not to mention the implications of the toxic-turkey-trade), in combination with my feelings of isolation in being estranged from family and not generally having anyone to gather with in community regardless of the reason, has been bringing me down hard and fast for nigh on 20 years, now.  some people get their winter blues later in the season, in January, when the winter holidays are over, and the relative hardships of the winter wear them down.  I'm generally feeling better by then, as the light increases after the solstice, and the sun begins to move into my astrological sign, but whenever the winter blues hit, or SAD is making you sad, there are ways to nurture yourself through it.

• taking 1000 IU's of vitamin D2 (plant-based) or D3 (animal-based) daily
• staying warm with layered clothing, hot baths, saunas, warm foods & drinks
• light therapy - taking walks outside around noon, getting a light box, or a light therapy lamp 
• getting up early in the day to 'set your inner clock' 
• eating well of proteins and veggies, increasing probiotics (yogurt) and omega-3's (oily fish, walnuts, flax/hemp/chia seeds), cooking hearty soups & stews while avoiding processed foods, dairy, and carbohydrates
• exercising is one of the healthiest ways to boost your mood - doing it outside in the sunlight is an added bonus this time of year
• staying active and involved - being social is really hard when all we want to do is hibernate under a blanket and go to sleep until spring
• keeping a positive mindset through meditation, and practicing gratitude
• sleeping well - just like it's healthy to be in sunlight during the day, it's important for your body to be in the dark at night, so try to keep the bedroom free of electronics, and also slightly cool 
• use bergamot, lavender, and rose essential oils in a diffuser, add them to your bathwater, combine them with coconut or olive oil and wear them, or simply sniff them for a lift!

I began my process at the autumnal equinox this year, having heard a call from Erishkigal - Sumerian Queen of the Underworld - back in the summer.  she seems to be with me on my journey this season, and I'm ready to learn what she has to teach me.  I first met her back when I was just a baby-occultist, discovering the wonders of more ancient wisdom than I previously knew existed, written in language and symbols that were somehow familiar to a young Jewish seeker.  she is connected to, or associated with, Lilith, who - as the daughter of a feminist Jew -  I have known since my childhood, and was my first representation of a deity outside of the Jewish 'god'.  of course I had some glancing familiarity with Greek and Roman mythology, as one will pick up in public school, but as a teen on the edge of puberty, who had either just - or was about to - become immersed in tarot, my gateway to the occult, I was thirsty for what looked an awful lot like forbidden knowledge.  so I went as far back as I could find texts to our earliest written memories - to Mesopotamia, Sumer, and Babylon, where I met my Queen of the Underworld.

Erishkigal by Thalia Took

in the years following, I spent more time meeting with and learning from aspects of my various selves as they appeared over the course of history, as well as the triple-goddess-nature of the pagan/wiccan/celtic traditions, maiden/mother/crone.  young journeyers that we were, my coven and I, we added a fourth aspect to our goddess-devotions to suit our needs - the warrior aspect - as many of us felt we were no longer innocent naive young girls, yet nowhere near ready to take on roles as mothers, or start bearing children.  my incantations during those years of my adulthood invoked the feminine in a variety of her guises and forms:  Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Inanna.  later I met Ariadne, in her labyrinth, whose story bears some resemblances to her divine ancestor, in her role as a Dark Goddess, a Mistress of the Underworld.  bulls, the number 7, a little sister, a consort, sacrifice, isolation, an eventual romantic partnership, and a certain sensuality.  she called out to me then, asked me to help tell her story, which I did, and still do.

Ariadne - the Snake Goddess

from there, my devotions turned towards the Shekinah of the Hebrew Kabbalah, the divine feminine aspect of the Absolute, and to the Prime or Creative Source...whatever you call the Oneness we all come from.  I often send devotions towards the moon in my personal rituals during her monthly transitions, as an aspect of the divine feminine, as well, though most other directions in which I send energy I think of as non-gendered, and more at cardinal points, spaces in time, or like a 'cosmic pool of collective love', if you will.  I've made a glancing acquaintance with Sara Kali, who is a Romani saint, and a Black Madonna, but I don't know much about her, and she isn't really part of my personal tradition, but I like to give her a nod for her possible place in my ancestors' past.  this time of year, this year in particular I suppose, that oldest of Goddesses is asking me to see her again, to maybe find something of the wonder of that young girl who first found that forbidden fruit in the dusty back corner of the library.  it goes along with doing a bit of the reclaimation of a lost or long hidden Self that I've either written about before, or meant to write about, or have a draft of somewhere.  sometimes it's frustrating to not have a community to practice with, but that goes right to the heart of the matter of the season, and going back to a more pure and simple kind of solitary practice.  to light the candles on my altar with intention, and breath new life into my inner practice.

Ereshkigal. (JasonEngle/ Deviant Art)

she called to me

come down

she called

come down to me

my sister

visit with me

down here

in my kingdom

through my

seven gates

shedding

at each

your clothing

your jewels

pretense

everything

come to me

sister

bare

before me

in my kingdom

where I will take

your skin

hang your empty

vessel

on a hook

in my domain

sister

and I must

journey back

I say

before I go

and puzzle out

what I'm willing

to sacrifice

to take my place

in her kingdom

while I'm gone

something I'm

willing to

go without

during my

time

in the world

The Queen of the Night (the 'Burney Relief') - Inanna (Ishtar)/Ereshkigal/Lilith

most recently, I've been learning more about Maa Kali, and Maa Durga...and I think there are some parallels to be drawn from them, as well, but I need to research further to know for sure.  I'll be spending some time with these powerful energies as we move closer and closer to the darkest days of our year, and seeing what wisdom they allow me to drag back out into the light, and what I have to give up for it along the way.

just for fun, here's my horoscope for the week, because it's on point, and mentions one of my favorite poets:

"In one of his poems, Arthur Rimbaud extolled the exquisite evenings when the mist soaked his face as he strolled, and he sipped that heavenly dew till he was drunk.  Was he speaking literally or metaphorically?  Probably both, if i know Rimbaud.  Anyway, Aquarius, I'd love for you to engage in similar exploits.  What are some natural adventures that might intoxicate you?  What simple pleasures may alter your consciousness, nudging you free of its habits?  Meditate with sweet abandon on how to free yourself through the power of play and the imagination." - Rob Breszny, Free Will Astrology

resources:


https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2017/03/seasonal-affective-disorder-mosaic/519495/

https://kriscarr.com/blog/seasonal-affective-disorder-treatment/

http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Ereshkigal

http://www.ancientpages.com/2017/03/16/ereshkigal-ruler-of-the-sumerian-underworld-and-most-feared-deity-in-mesopotamian-pantheon/

https://www.ancient.eu/Ereshkigal/

http://themotherhouseofthegoddess.com/2017/09/26/the-descent-of-inanna-understanding-the-dark-goddess-ereshkigal-by-brandi-auset/

http://www.durgasite.com/durga/durga-kali/

The Ghost of Poems Past

Snake Awakening

after (how many?) caresses

when our lips (finally) brushed

playing on the edge

of tension,

I tasted tobacco, beer, and stubble

went back for more

for his fingertips, and my longing

like an old lover, like how my fingertips

remembered the curve of his back

like the taste of my fear, shaking

low, like a snake awakening

an earthquake

opening

with his breath in my ear

lips on the back of my neck

a bite on my shoulder

his hand in my hair, pulling

a sigh from my throat

hands sliding

through moans

    

Dionysus

I called him, have called him

it was Solstice, he emerged

fully grown from his cave

to receive the goddess

and interrupt my dreams

in my bed

with offerings and ablutions

knocking me clean

into the next ecstasy, days

of weak knees, staring eyes, whimpering sighs

weeks to forget the way my womb

vibrated

to his touch

tobacco and beer

and stubble

on my tongue

my pleasure on his

these gods of summer,

these shadow plays!

ripen to bittersweet

while dancing thankful

across my skin.

Sunday Whirl ~

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store, cabinet, lawn, shed, boat, minute, clock, turbulent, electric, lust, hand, pillow

something about buying a lawnmower at the store, and cutting the lawn, putting it in the shed.  minutes ticking away on the clock, he's coming on his boat as she notices her hand on the cabinet, surreal, dream-like.  in the room together, electric, overcome by lust, her hand, gripping the pillow...

     She stood looking at her hand, where it rested on the back of the wall phone she'd just hung up, after telling him how she was on her way to the store to get a lawnmower.  He would be here in less than 6 hours.  That was plenty of time for her to get the lawnmower, and mow the lawn.  So she might as well get started.  Shaking her head to clear the buzz, she headed upstairs to get dressed in some half-dirty clothes - not having showered, she didn't want to put on anything clean - yesterday's jeans, and the t-shirt she'd worn for a few hours the day before.  6 hours.  Plenty of time...  Dressed, her hair in a bun, she felt almost normal as she bounced down the stairs, keys in hand, and headed for the car.
     The drive to town was only about 8 minutes, which was 6 more than she needed to surmise that her head was elsewhere, and needed more than a vigorous shake to clear it - like a near-miss accident at the end of her own driveway, because she was zoned-out, with her head in the clouds.  "Must get a grip," she muttered to herself grimly, and shook her head again.  She managed the rest of the drive, and the subsequent equipment purchase, with less distraction, though still seemingly engulfed in a haze.  Having arrived back home and unloaded the machine, she made a mess of mowing but got it done, and made a home for the new lawnmower in the shed, after wiping it off to maintain it's cherry looks as long as possible.  How long, now?  4 more hours?  She could sit and watch each minute tick by on the clock...
     Where had he called from?  Some marina?  Like where they keep boats?  She knew he worked on a boat or a ship, though she was not sure which, nor what he did on the boat exactly, but the boat was coming to a town nearby, so he was stopping in for a visit.  This would be his first time coming to visit her at this address, though he'd certainly been to visit her at several others, in various towns.  She got out the sage, and began burning it's smoke into all the corners of the house.  He deserved a special kind of attention, and she had every intention of seeing to his needs while he was there.  She was cooking dinner, and would be showering and dressing closer to the time when he would be arriving, so she could be fresh.  It had been a while since they'd see each other, personally turbulent years for each of them individually, but between them, only ever this secret, timeless romance.  She stood looking at her hand, as it rested on the cabinet handle, frozen in the act of meal preparation as she fell back to daydreaming about that one time...
     And later, after the meal she had carefully prepared, and after her shower, during which she used the fancy soap, and the upscale facial cleanser, after she had washed her hair, and finished off with the high-end moisturizer, drying naturally as she brushed her teeth and tongue, after she had slipped into that dress, applied eyeliner, and lipstick, powder and oil...after the air around them had turned electric the moment she reached out to welcome him, hand lighting briefly on his arm, that momentary pressure, enough to engorge his lust for her, so perfectly curated for his seduction...after all that, after all the slow, delicate touches on the backs of necks, and on collarbones, fingertips roaming over lips and into mouths..when she had already removed her long, delicate earrings, and placed them in a small ceramic dish on her desk, with a shy little 'tink', as they were already stretching out each other's sighs on her bed, she noticed her hand, all twisted up in the pillow she had been gripping as he drove her body over a wave of pleasure he created within her senses.  She loved his visits, as they gave her the excuse she needed to summon her divinity, be worshiped, and allowed her to love him back, freely.

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Dream Lover

one night this past winter, when it was deadly cold, Blanche had an especially vivid dream of a particular kind, which she had had before.  in this one, she walked into the dream via a tent-like enclosure, curtained off from a larger, dome-like structure. the things she understood were that she was a member of a tribe or clan, that it was deep-winter, and this collective housing structure was how her village set up their seasonal lodging so as to maintain personal privacy while conserving resources for the wider community, such as a large fire pit in the center that kept the dome warm, and served to cook the meals.  they dressed in furs and wool, had dreadlocks, seemed to be hunter-gatherers, yet also agrarians.  the people seemed to have their own distinctive roles in this society, and the women did their work while the men took care of other responsibilities.

as a young and strong leader, she was returning to her village after having been 'out in the field' for some time (a week or so?), either scouting, taking part in some sacred feminine right-of-passage for the teen women, or both.  she was cold, dirty, and stiff from a long week of hard work away from the comforts of home, and treated herself to a luxuriously hot bath in the rudimentary bathhouse before returning to her personal enclosure within the communal space, and diving into her raised platform covered in wool and furs.  as her naked skin hit the cool furs, she shivered a bit and settled in for the kind of comfortable sleep she had missed while out on maneuvers.  then she was embraced from behind by a rather large man who had been sleeping on the pallet, and been awakened by her arrival under the furs.  "You have returned," he growled in his deep voice as he curled his large body around hers, and wrapped her up in his strong arms.  she smiled, and settled herself gratefully into his warmth as his hands moved along her clean skin, and he nuzzled his face in her hair.

this man was one of the tribe's best warriors, and a leader of men.  they were lovers, and though it was 'her enclosure', she had consented to allow him to stay in it while she was away.  she was so tired when she had come in seeking her bed that it had not occurred to her that her lover might be there under the covers, waiting to embrace her, but she was glad to share his warmth, and was happy for his company.  he asked after the women's ceremony, and she responded in the broadest of terms, as technically it was none of his business - if the village council had any need for information about any of the young women, it was the older, battle-tested, clan-mothers who answered on their behalf.  it was the same for the older men, being responsible for the younger men of an age when it was time for them to leave the relative safety of their mothers' sides, and grow together as a part of the larger community.

warmed by her lover's embrace, she turned onto her back, and stretched her whole body out in a way that indicated she was fully relaxed and happy, and his hands began to stroke her in a way that was more familiar.  her skin tingled, and she responded to his attentions by turning towards him in the bed, wrapping her arms and legs around the mass of him, and climbing atop him like he was her mountain.  as his pleasure had already begun to rise beneath her, they joined in each other's climax as will lovers who know each other well.  this was certainly the best of ways to return to her own bed, her lover, and her larger community. 

"what a lovely dream!" thought Blanche, when she woke. 

as it so happened, Blanche came down with flu that same winter, and while she was sick, her fever-dreams returned her to this peaceful little village for some traditional healing.  this time, she awoke on her pallet-bed, sweating under layers of wool blankets and furs, with several other women in attendance.  there was the Eldest - an old, white-haired grandmother who was the main source of information when it came to matters of health and wellness, and her 'daughter' who may not have been a biological child so much as an apprentice to the craft, who was closer in age to Blanche's own mother.  there were others attending to her, holding as she did an esteemed place in the tribe, but these were the two by her bedside.  there were both cool and warm cloths alternately placed on her aching head, there was hearty soup spooned into her, there were hot baths, thick robes, and lots of sweaty sleep in her furnace of a bed, in her personal enclosure.  her lover was obviously elsewhere, probably in the separate tent the men kept, for the duration of her illness, or out hunting.  either way, he wasn't much on her mind, until she heard his low voice in hushed conversation with the medicine women.

she gathered that he was wondering how close she was to death, and if he needed to inform her son (who had been fathered by a previous lover that had met his death at the end of an enemy spear).  while she had raised her boy to an age where it was now the responsibility of the elder tribesmen to teach him the ways of the men, they had remained close after he moved from her enclosure to one of those the young men his age shared.  everyone was worried about her, and pulling for her return to good health.  morale was low, and a lot was riding on her recovery, so her lover was seeing what the best course of action was for him to take in order to best prepare for what might come next.  he was informed that she was still in her prime, and there was no need to worry anyone - especially her son - over her little illness.  the healers had every reason to believe she would be restored to full health in good time, she just needed her rest, that he should tend to his business, and let them tend to theirs.  Blanche rolled over in her dream-bed, and fell back to sleep.

when she woke next, she could tell it was night by the sounds in the larger tent - the remains of the evening meals being cleaned up, children being put to bed, adults stretching out around the main fire for a bit of relaxation and socializing before tucking in themselves.  she wanted to get out from under her covers and wrap up in a thick robe to join them; she was so tired of lying down and sleeping, but she still felt too weak to even throw the blankets back.  then she heard her lover arguing with the Eldest - the medicine woman was telling him to go sleep in the men's tent and leave 'Blanche' alone. he was insisting that he had bathed the hunt off of him, was scrubbed and clean beneath a clean robe, and planned on sleeping under the furs with his woman, no matter what the Eldest thought about it.  he decided that whatever risk it was to his own health to bed with her while she was still ill, she needed his strength near to draw from in order to heal herself.  she grunted at him disapprovingly, but stepped aside and let him through the curtain when she realized he was not so much arguing with her as he was informing her of his plan.

she managed to open her aching eyes long enough to see him toss his robe on top of the pile of blankets already weighing her down, his skin scrubbed so clean it shone, before he climbed under the furs next to her, and gathered her shivering body into his powerful embrace, tucking her head under his chin as he hugged her tight.  she curled into him, and whimpered despite herself.  he rocked her gently, and whispered soft endearments in her ear, while she let herself be comforted by his warmth, and his gentle care for her momentary fragility.  there's nothing quite so sweet as a big bear of a man who can be sensitive and kind when that is what's called for, she thought.  he held her through the night, and the warmth of his body drew the chill from hers.  in the morning, when he saw her smile up at him from beneath the covers, he asked if her body was sore, and skillfully massaged her muscles until she was limp with relief, and then transitioned to a more sensual kind of touch.

as he slid his hands over her pliant flesh, the Eldest poked her head in the curtain to ask how 'Blanche' was doing, and if she was ready to bathe or eat.  he growled at the old woman to leave them be, and she scolded him for being selfish with his lover's body when she was too weak to resist his advances, but she managed to cut them both off with a command of her own that she was resting comfortably with her lover, and would let the Eldest know when she was ready for the older woman's deft administrations.  settling back down under the covers, she sighed at the effort that small act took, and looked to her man to snuggle up with her again, and lend her some more of his abundant strength.  it didn't take long before they were back to arousing each other, and as the heat built up between them, her lover asked if she was sure she was ready for him, and suggested they love each other in such a way that would allow her to rest comfortably and take her pleasure without having to exert herself in any way.  she purred beneath him as she positioned herself in the way he suggested, and was rewarded with a long, slow, ride that left him breathless and spent, while she felt exhilarated and energized.

she called softly to her women (whom she knew were nearby) to help her out of bed while her lover slept, and she let them hold her up for the dizziness of her long week in bed, while she slipped into a robe and was helped to the baths, cleaned up, and enjoyed some more of the healers' delicious and fortifying soup.  with the help of her beloved Elder, she strolled slowly through the smaller herb gardens that would soon need to be tilled for spring planting, and as they looked up at the noise of a group of youths running and shouting in the distance, they saw her son pause in his revelry to acknowledge that it was his dear mother that he saw standing up and walking around, then waved vigorously before running off again with the rest of the young men.  she was definitely feeling better.  weak and tired, but better, thanks again to her dream-lover for sharing his warmth and affection with her.