Ta-freaking-da!!

Well?  I survived the whole divorce thing.  March 26th.  Over.  Done with.  Amen and So Mote It BE!!!!!  Am about to embark on the adventure of renewed singlehood....sort of. 

But before I get into that whole story (and perhaps that's one for a different post, at a time when I'm feeling all gossipy and/or confessional-in-that-way-that-several-good-vodka-martinis-provide), I am still riding on the invisible coat-tails of Beltane energy and sort of letting it wake up my esoteric nerve endings.

Sort of like psychic yoga.  Or astral knuckle-cracking.

This renewal, rebirth type of sensation is how I pretty much made it through the legal wranglings and past the emotional booby-traps.  It was an amicable thing, for the most part...but there was still no shortage of feeling less than stellar about having tried to make a life with somebody who, in the end, decided that I wasn't the appropriate person to grow old with.

Truth be told, he wasn't perfect for me either, but me...well, being me...didn't want to give up because I don't like failure.  Don't like letting go when there might possibly be one more small avenue of "trying to fix things" that I hadn't attempted.

But yeah.  Did them all.  Walked away with a clear conscience.  And an empty wallet.  And am stuck with a house I don't want...which I'm the primary on the mortgage still with the ex-husband...and am acting as landlord as he...and his new girlfriend...are about to move back in.

Like I said, long damn story.  And possibly Jerry Springer.  Which is tragic to think about.

Anyway...

My newly acquired freedom has given me a really, really big fat hug o' happiness.  A second chance at living a more authentic life in many ways, instead of the drudgery and struggle to keep working on a relationship that I was the only one willing to work at it.

Which brings me to my point of today's little ramble:   Beltane and the Magical Art of Asking the Right Questions.

Yes indeedy, folks.  Talking about chatting with the "Deity-esque Mom and Dad" and telling them a heartfelt THANK YOU for the life-lesson I'd just endured....the clue-by-fours about what decent partnership and relationship should and should not look like, feel like....and now coming to them saying that I want to be open to trying again.  You know, since I'm not entirely thrashed for the experience.

More so than the whole dating scene...I am trying to figure out exactly what it means to me in terms of being a priestess and witch.  What it means to have a decent male around to my femaleness, in both a Circle-worthy sense and yeah, kinda in a wouldn't it be great to have that in an everyday sense too?

So that's where my head was at yesterday as I did my little bit of solo work.  Which yeah, I get it, Beltane is the last place you want to be solo to begin with...perhaps more so as a Gardnerian...but still.  Being alone was exactly the right thing for me yesterday, for making my appeal to the Mighty Ones and to my Gods.  It was especially important because there cannot be room for the new, the better opportunity if there is still "stuff" in the way.  Gotta make room, because hey, Nature abhors a vacuum and only when there is room for something new, will something new arrive.

And as for vacuums, I'm done with my life sucking big time like it has in recent years.  Time to just settle my own self down, remember who I am, reacquaint myself to the core values and preferences and singular things that make me the unique and weird broad that I am....and then see what happens when there happens to be some puzzle piece that fits those now empty spaces.

Countdowns and seafoam

I'm feeling really frustrated today. 

I have these moments, sometimes several days worth, when I'm anxious, waiting for things to shift and move.  Just so tired of being trapped and stagnating in this rut....things taking too long towards my impending fresh start and new beginning as everyone keeps promising me will soon come.

Ah, this "winter of my discontent" needs to come to an end already!!

Today I'm channeling my impatience into physical tasks, like painting and spring cleaning.  Makes me feel the way a gardner does when forcing a bulb to bloom indoors, ahead of its natural schedule, just out of need to see something blossoming, fruitful, beautiful.  I need proof of growth, need evidence of change. 

I want to feel joy and hope bursting through the dark, like eager tender shoots coming up through crusted soil.

There are 15 days until Spring Equinox.  There are 21 days until my divorce is final.  There are 23 days until I go on my vacation to visit "mother, mother ocean...I have heard your call..." down in Florida and shed my tears into the salty, cold Atlantic.

I always feel better after a visit with the waves.  Somehow the water makes me feel small, carried, just a hairs-breath from being swept away in the way that my emotional tides sometimes do...but even in that there is a dark beauty, a constant, a rhythm that and pattern that I cannot comprehen but can only trust is there....that there is a source beyond my ken, beyond my grasp of human understanding....that the waves and the shhh-shhh of the water lapping and crashing, turning rock and shells into sand over time and with patience....that there is a reason for all this.  That the Wheel will keep turning no matter what I do, no matter what happens, no matter how small my life may be in the cosmic scheme of things.

A little pleasure in that, despite my immediate pains. 

Change is inevitable.  Growth, maturation, decline, endings, renewal.  All of it happens in ways we sometimes cannot fathom, cannot prevent, cannot forsee, cannot anticipate or prepare for....but always, a continuation.

Sometimes you ride the Wheel....sometimes you are caught beneath its tread....but always, it moves forward.

Zombies: things that are cool, but rather disturbing

Along side the whole vampire/werewolf teen angsty thing, there has also been a subgenre featuring old monster movies and zombies...one might guess, partially relative to the 2012 end-o-the-world fascination.  *erp*

Well, at least the zombie thing has produced some remarkably creative, creepy and covet-worthy objects d'art.  And my being a Halloween ephemera collector, I have to say some of it fascinates me enough that even in my most Libra aesthete moods, a part of me secretly wishes she had the nerve to actually purchase a few of these disturbing delectables. 

I know....weird, right?  As if I could pull off that whole gothy vibe without looking like an aging hipster who is trying to hard. 

Anyway, here are a few "decidedly shocking, but still so freaking kick-ass" items that would probably cause any of my future dating prospects to run screaming in the other direction --- unless of course said gentleman IS some aging hipster who is trying too hard ((tee hee)):