I shall not fear. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the small death that leads to total obliteration.
Most people run their wheel from Samhain to Samhain. I run mine from Beltaine to Beltaine, because most years that’s when my sacred space opens and my social life takes an upturn again.
But last year was about healing, and healing isn’t always a pleasant experience. Last year was a brutal, nasty year full of stuff that I leave off of this blog because hey, this isn’t Livejournal and I don’t pretend to think that people care enough to come here and read about it. But let’s just say that I felt like a lot of nasty things got cut (or torn) out of my life. So we spent Beltaine in Buffalo this year.
HOWEVER. I do want to say that it wasn’t us just hiding in a corner, or refusing to face our issues (I shall not fear…). We had an invitation to have Beltaine with a part of my social circle that I do enjoy dearly (even if I do my normal I don’t know you well yet so I’m going to sit in the corner and knit by the firelight of poi dancers-did I mention we were on a corner lot in the middle of Elmwood Village?). It ended up being a wonderful weekend-and I don’t think that it would have been that way had we loaded up Seamus and headed into the Southern Tier.
Growing older for me is turning out to be as much about openess as it is anything else. I’m not going to pretend that I’m not smack dab in the middle of my mother stage still. It’s an odd stage, since I can’t have kids (…sorry for that huge admission, but there’s a reason that this blog is me and Mid and maybe a Betta fish.) but I’m certainly no maiden anymore and my croning is still a long way off. But it’s odd, I can feel the crone lurking somewhere in the back and on the edges, and She’s telling me to stop being so damn scared all the time.
I guess I could go all New Agey and talk about how the fear is the path way to maturity blah blah blah or talk about the Mother goddess protecting me blah blah blah. But frankly I’m not that type of blogger. That’s for other people to tackle, not me. But I saw a post on Something Oddly about using Dune in her path, it clicked, and being the sponge that I am, I ran with it. I still have no idea where this path is leading me, and knowing myself large sections of it are going to be very, very dark indeed, but I’m going to walk it anway thinking “I shall not fear. Fear is the mindkiller…”
(And this will be my final admission-other than maybe a turn or two with henna, I have no intention of dyeing my hair when I go gray. I will be a wild haired Crone. This is my promise.)