I went to visit Two Feathers in Brighton this week to make some half-arsed attempt to connect with my great grandfather’s heritage. My father’s grandmother lived in Dublin and she had a fling with a Native American member of the cast from a travelling Wild West Show at the turn of the last century. I am uncomfortable with saying Native American as I understand that it wasn’t called America when those first Nationers arrived but I’m uncertain what to call them, as I am so far removed from this heritage as to feel slightly fraudulent saying I’ve a connection. But my dad has black hair and dark eyes as did many of his siblings. He was always very swarthy in his youth and still loves a cigarette hehe. His mother hid this tale of our heritage entirely throughout her life but I love the link that spans the great pond even if I know and understand nothing of it as my heritage. One day perhaps?
I decided to have a tarot reading with Donna to clarify some issues stuck in my head. What a wonderful hour that was with much optimism offered to me, which I needed. Also Donna gave me several magical exercises to help me heal and move on. This ritualistic but practical way of marking time on things that no longer serve any purpose is a fantastic way to consciously face some of my demons and attempt to let them go. Whether or not this is actual magic I cannot be certain but the act of ceremony surrounding these rituals empowers the brain allowing me to both observe them and release the traumas. So it serves a purpose.
First up for my symbolic magic rituals was connecting with a yew tree. I needed to have a chat about all my woes with a yew and ask it to take all the poisonous thoughts away. Now, just where is a yew tree that means something to me though? There are lots in Alexandra Park with some of the pinkest of red berries I’ve ever seen and I always stop to drink in their beauty (not literally drink them in – poisonous). The park though, while a treasured sacred space for me where I walked my dogs when I had my house would be a rather public place to chat openly with a tree and hang about hugging it. I know too many dog owners who I say hello to and I don’t much fancy explaining all the things I haven’t been up to since the dogs went back to my ex. Instead I thought I should head to Church-in-the-Wood where I used to sing in the choir when I lived in Hollington. My parents had a pub called the Wishing Tree and I’m going to ask a magical tree to grant me wishes so it seemed appropriate, though a tad too Church of England for my pagan magic. Sadly the pub has now been demolished to make way for houses but that is all about change and progress and I am trying to write a new future for myself so I will embrace that loss too. I knew there was a yew by the Lychgate as it was the inspirational setting in my head for the the Lychgate that features so heavily in my first TV script which is all about death and the changes it brings. I’ve spent a year writing about death and change and feel that I’m now living the experience, so off I went. The tree I remembered was slightly too tall for my needs I couldn’t reach the branches so I found another round the back of the church among the graves instead. We got so chatty so quickly. Such a cheeky character and so amusing and certainly not shy. It quickly turned me into Merlin or the Green Man of Hastings legend. I held healing sunlight in my hand like a mystical shamen.
Next up on my spiritual task list was “55/5”. Write down in a book something you require from the Universe, 55 times for 5 days and then sit back and let it come to you. For this exercise I purchased new pink ink, as soon as I left Donna, to write from the heart chakra and a green book to write it all in, the other colour of the heart chakra. I am still writing my request daily to reach 5 days but as soon as it manifest I will let you all know. I bought a new deck of Oracle cards too to connect with my heritage is that poor uneducated way of cultural misappropriation.
My third ritual is to write down all my anger and frustrations and address them to Gaia the Earth Goddess. Then I must find a sacred spot somewhere that is special to me and bury the letter so that Gaia might take the anger and absorb in back into the earth. I did this yesterday up on the East Hill. I power walked with my new gym fit thighs and clearer lungs to the top of the hill where the sun was bursting out from behind the clouds and illuminating patches of the sea. I felt godlike in my pusuits.
I adore the East Hill and it is where the home I have always wished I owned sits. Windy Croft on High Wickham. I have coveted that house since I was young so while I’m writing about magic spells I’m putting it out there that this house is going to be mine one day. Well what’s the point of magic if you can’t manifest things your heart desires?
I disobeyed the fences that said “Danger Unstable Cliff Edge” as I felt my head might just be more unstable than the cliff and wandered into a secluded spot littered with condoms and discarded lube packets. I figured at least it was a place people go to for fun and some rutting. I’ve not rutted in a long time sadly but until my teeth are sorted I shan’t be letting the sexual god back out. Hell I can’t even smile without fearing my lack of teeth being noticed so I shan’t be engaging in any kind of sexual activity for sure until then if I’m totally honest. And I am trying to be just that, honest. I’m hoping anyone reading these rambles might see how difficult mental health can be when you get stuck down a rabbit hole. It’s strange that people are offered cosmetic surgery on the NHS to help their mental health but not suitable dental work and a good set of teeth allows people to smile and more importantly eat well. This would certainly help me.
I took out the Charlie Dimmock hand spade I found in the garden where I am staying and dug a hole for the letter to be given to Gaia. I dug and cut through the roots with much difficulty. A full-size spade and a foot for power would have been far easier to dig as deeply as I wanted to but I would have looked very suspicious carrying a large spade up to the cliffs. Like I was there to bury a body rather than my anger. Suddenly the soil gave way and opened into a rabbit warren. Very appropriate and very Alice in Wonderland. This is presumably why the cliffs collapse up there so often and I thought it rather appropriate that my angry rant would vanish down a rabbit hole like my brain does so often. I read the letter out loud which was rather difficult because I wrote it as an angry stream of consciousness the night before and it was very angry and very bitter. Then I bound it in a pretty piece of string that one of the Daves gave me from their shop and I popped it in the hole. It tumbled deep inside as Gaia swallowed it whole. Dirty cow ain’t a spitter.
I then walked back to begin the next of my rituals and the one I was least looking forward to performing but it had to be done. Casting the names and deeds that no longer serve the future me, into the flame of a red candle. Symbolically this is the hardest of the tasks I have to perform. This is finally and forever severing the links to that which has pained and hurt me so very much. This will naturally be around the great hurt in my life, my lover-man who just stopped loving me. I need to let him properly go as he is still my first and last thought every day. I still talk to him all day waiting for answers he will never give me. I am unhinged and yet I pretend to myself that all the pain he caused me has been released but it isn’t. I think of all the opportunities I turned down to stay close to him. Being without him was the most frightening thought I could ever imagine so I just stayed around waiting for him to love me back. When I was travelling and blogging everywhere I went I felt half a person as he wasn’t with me. In my head he completed my soul. His love was my rock except he didn’t love me. That was all just part of my mental health. Perhaps he never loved me like I loved him? I shan’t ever know and that cripples me emotionally. What was I thinking? Why did I allow him such power over me? I am trying to recover from a relationship with someone that lasted a few years too long because I loved him and am loyal forever. I told him always that I loved him. I would drop anything to come to his assistance and yet if he ever did love me he stopped doing so a few years ago. He didn’t have the courage to tell me that though and that’s what hurts. The illusion he let me live under for so long while selfishly having his cake and not just eating it but vomiting on my emotional core. So cruel really and yet I still love him. I keep bringing this up and writing this pain as I want to show how unstable my head is emotionally around the issue of this man. I cannot imagine loving anyone so completely ever again and yet I have to let him go as he will never love me or offer any goodness to nourish my bruised heart. He rejected me when my parents became ill and when I had no friends to turn to. This was so mentally damaging that for so long I just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up again. I would dream of swapping places with my brother over and over again as I felt such a failure. Yet I still love him! And I know I shall never be able to hold him, love him or speak with him again. And somewhere in the core of his soul he really is the kindest gentlest man I have ever met. Tragic that such tenderness can be so wholly and unintentionally destructive because he couldn’t voice his emotions honestly.
I laid out the table to begin this cleansing ritual. Then I immediately packed it all away without doing it as I don’t want to lose him forever. I’m so cross with myself. I need to sever all ties with my him as he is my emotional abuser and yet I can’t bring myself to do it. I will try again. Once I burned his name and released the pain I will burn a white candle to herald a new future for myself. Then I must cast the ashes of his name into the sea to let go of him from my life forever. I have to do this if I am ever to recover my sanity but it is so extremely hard as I really do still love him. Bloody Stockholm syndrome. In our last communication I even finally understood that he was totally unaware of all the pain his behaviour has caused me. That hurts even more as it suggests that either I meant nothing to him or he can’t face up to the fact that he hurt me so totally. So I can’t really blame him. I had no right to his love in the way I wanted it but when he first moved to Hastings he said the oddest thing to me when I asked if he wanted to move in with me. He said no but comforted me by saying I had won. I was never sure what I won but it wasn’t his heart as I assumed. There were 10 words in what was the only form of apology I’ll ever get from him that have been rolling round my head like a bruising mantra ever since. I repeat them over and over again like I am beating myself up. Even as I walk to the gym I find myself saying them with no comfort as they seem so cold and selfish and yet they are all I have for the seven years or love I gave him. I am creating another bad pattern while attempting to through the gym to create new, better patterns. I need it to end this now. I’ve wasted so much trying to hide from him and his new lover. I didn’t mind sharing him but I did mind that he was hiding things from me and this ate away ay my mental health. He was great at explaining that his new man suffered with mental health issues but could seem to see that he was destroying mine. I clung on hoping that he would just call me once and throw his arms around me and hold me while I cried my heart out. But he never will hold me and love me. I was there for all his vulnerabilities for seven years but it seems he wasn’t there for mine. No wonder my heart and head are now so utter broken! Today I must try to perform this ritual and sever all ties with the man I let bust my life into a thousand pieces by loving him too much. I need to pick myself up and find a new me but I can’t seem to find any of the right bits from the mess so that I can move forward with any hope. I must try though. Even after all the pain and woes in my life I am always an optimist. Maybe one day someone will say “I love you, you beautiful precious man” and I will be able to look them in the eyes and smile with a full set of teeth and know that I am finally loved by someone. After all we must all have dreams and wishes. Donna’s reading and the rituals she suggested I perform have helped to pick up my spirits and I truly thank her for giving me some hope back. Sorry folks that’s a bruising read and a bruising effort to write it all down and publish it but expressing the truth is so painfully raw at times and I am trying to be honest with the world so I can let go of all the shit and feel whole again. Thank-you for reading this if you did. You are too kind. Be kind and honest with each other. Remember that everyone feels vulnerable at times. And keep an eye out for those you call friends especially the ones who do kind deeds for you. Don’t leave them out in the cold alone.