In which I drift back again to Camp Zoe and Pagan Spirit Gathering.
In thinking about PSG, moments from that week come back to me in small flashes at times. To start with, the drive down was punctuated with questions. I had never camped for such an extended period of time and had doubts about my own ability to handle the weather, keep myself fed and other physical concerns of that sort. I also wasn't sure what to expect from the people attending, the rituals, the workshops, etc. My biggest concern, that my tendency toward introversion at times would keep me from truly connecting with the other people attending, was looming larger as I got closer to the campground. Making that turn into Camp Zoe, inching along behind other cars from all over the country, I turned off my radio and just listened to the sounds of the forest, hearing the murmur of voices and an occasional bell in the distance as I drove up the steep hill into camp. As I wound around into viewing distance of the gate, a few people's voices stood out. "Welcome home," they called as they waved people through. I'd been following the PSG list on Yahoo and knew this was their greeting but I hadn't thought about how it'd feel to be the recipient of it. When my turn came, after having presented my paperwork and gotten my map and asked a couple questions, I kind of basked in it. I liked the idea that this community wanted most to start the people joining it with a gift, with the feeling that they'd arrived somewhere that contained all the comfort and acceptance that one's true home should have. I felt a huge bundle of my concerns shift away as I slowly drove further into the camp, accepting at least the potential for true connection with this part of the Pagan community being proffered so freely.
That feeling sort of ebbed and flowed over the next few days. The diversity presented in PSG was almost overwhelming at times. I had people camped near me that went beyond me in terms of their seriousness and introversion while others camped near the main path and offered food to all who walked by at times. One of my neighbors, displaying great restraint, witnessed me fall out of my tent the first morning we all woke up at Camp Zoe and managed not to mock me. Another had a nice kitchen set up at her campsite that she was kind enough to share with us all. We made a nice little community and, when Jimmy's daughter (they camped a short distance away) stepped on a bee on her way to my tent one afternoon and was panicking from the pain, people came running from all directions to help us out, bearing ice and helping hands to get her to the med tent (one of many, many visits there for me).
That first day, putting up my tent, cutting open my foot in the process (visit number one to the med tent), I discovered really quickly just how unnecessary half the clothing I brought was. The heat was breathtaking and I ended up giving up a lot of my usual ideas about what to wear and not wear. I still went barefoot for most of the week, especially after my flip flops wore identical cuts in both my heels (multiple visits to the med tent for those). I also noticed early on that time just seemed to run at a different pace at PSG. Time seemed to just flow, sometimes speeding up, sometimes allowing me to savor the moments that I knew I'd want to remember forever. I've never been someone who tries to do everything and I've never managed to fully defeat my tendency to need to turn in early. There were nights, however, I pushed past that to attend drum circle and dance into the night (although that was mostly later in the week as I felt more comfortable).
Being a morning person, though, had the benefit of connecting me with people that I wouldn't have met otherwise. A festival of around 900 people means that you'll almost continually see people for the first time. The people that I met on more than one occasion were people that, as the universe would have it, I really felt connected to. But, I digress. One morning, a notably quiet one, I ventured down to the creek to sit on the bank and just be. After about ten minutes there, I was joined by Sarah, who had come to that spot to capture on film some of the beauty the creek offered. Immediately, I was struck by just how beautiful she was, typifying an ethereal, Piscean artist in many ways. As she snapped some photographs, we introduced ourselves and talked about our common interests (photography, animals, nature, our experiences of PSG) and found that we had similar outlooks on several topics. For a while, it was just quiet and we were just watching the still-misty water flowing around the bluffs and rocks. That creek was such a welcome respite over the week, not just for the relief from the heat it offered but for the peace I always feel around water. That, among other things, seemed something I shared with this new friend.
After we both realized that morning meeting was getting close to starting, we walked up there, continuing our conversation on the way, comparing impressions of the campsite and spots we'd found to swim and escape the heat. I found myself, as we kept talking, discussing books and music that we loved and sharing recommendations, lamenting a bit that she was straight but being glad as always at making a new friend. During morning meeting, they came around with some necklaces to gift everyone with. Choosing colors that spoke to each of us, mine purple, hers blue to remind her of the water, we discussed meeting up later to visit other spots in the winding creek and cool off. We met up a couple more times as the week went on, swimming and talking and exchanging contact information and agreeing that next year would find us both back at Camp Zoe.
Other days, other events: I participated in the most meaningful ritual I've had the chance to be involved with. I got clear, straightforward insights into the direction I need to take in my life as we walked a midnight, candlelit labyrinth under the full moon and I felt so strongly the connection to the earth we're blessed with. I laughed, I sang, I danced, I played, I thought and wrote and grew immensely.
It was that kind of week, all in all. Peppered with moments that stand out and stretches of time with which to contemplate and consider all that noise the outside world brings to 'real life.' One of the reasons it took so long for me to write about this is that the experience touched me on so many different levels. I had plenty of the kind of fun people normally associate with vacation and, yes, it was hot and, yes, I got time to relax. But it was so much more than that at the same time. The people I met there, the feeling of connecting and re-connecting with the deepest parts of myself-those are the memories I continue to carry with me and return to as I keep in mind the idea that the next 11 months represent preparation time to return home.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Day 192
Back to thoughts of honesty and how much to share again. I like honesty-almost as much as I like knowing that I haven't shared too much.
Wednesday, as I wrote last, I was contemplating the potential in moving beyond the counseling I have relied on for the past few years. The idea of stepping out into the sun without feeling the need to turn to someone for the kind of support and encouragement (not to mention the ability to see things far more clearly than I can some days coupled with skill and knowledge that a professional has) has its positive aspects. I've been focusing on those. And, I still see all of that as true. In the light of day, I *know* that I'm going to be fine.
Yet, as I sat down and we began to work on wrapping things up and Rachel pressed me to discuss my feelings about this abrupt change, I just found myself weeping. Not sobbing or attempting to reason away the transition, just quietly weeping over this loss. Because, that's the only way I can describe it-it's a subtraction from my life, a loss of someone that has figured importantly in my support system. Even now, I find myself tearing up slightly over these thoughts. And, those who know me well know that tears are rare for me. Simply put, this is difficult. I've dealt with greater losses (if we're assigning a valuation to the place someone holds in one's life, I guess) with the same strength I'll be bringing to this and, to risk redundancy, I truly will be fine. But, to be wholly honest, I'm sad over this and am aware of the hole this will leave in my life.
Wednesday, as I wrote last, I was contemplating the potential in moving beyond the counseling I have relied on for the past few years. The idea of stepping out into the sun without feeling the need to turn to someone for the kind of support and encouragement (not to mention the ability to see things far more clearly than I can some days coupled with skill and knowledge that a professional has) has its positive aspects. I've been focusing on those. And, I still see all of that as true. In the light of day, I *know* that I'm going to be fine.
Yet, as I sat down and we began to work on wrapping things up and Rachel pressed me to discuss my feelings about this abrupt change, I just found myself weeping. Not sobbing or attempting to reason away the transition, just quietly weeping over this loss. Because, that's the only way I can describe it-it's a subtraction from my life, a loss of someone that has figured importantly in my support system. Even now, I find myself tearing up slightly over these thoughts. And, those who know me well know that tears are rare for me. Simply put, this is difficult. I've dealt with greater losses (if we're assigning a valuation to the place someone holds in one's life, I guess) with the same strength I'll be bringing to this and, to risk redundancy, I truly will be fine. But, to be wholly honest, I'm sad over this and am aware of the hole this will leave in my life.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Day 190
Okay, I think I've made this decision. I'm troubled by it but I think it's the only way to go. I suppose I can be more specific, lol, now that I've made up my mind. I've been seeing my counselor, Rachel, for more than two years now. That'll be moving to the past category within the next few weeks. It's not a decision I made all on my own nor do I feel completely comfortable with the idea but, well, there are lots of factors in the decision. It is what it is, as some would say. I'm choosing to view this as an opportunity to move forward and, hopefully, I can make it become that.
Life has improved enormously over the last few years. I struggle often and, yes, if you're someone I'm close to, you've undoubtedly heard a great deal of bitching and moaning. View at as a sign that I'm honest with you and trust you, lol. (If that doesn't help, I'll throw some cookies your way) Trying to adjust my expectations and ideas about what life holds for me is an ongoing lesson in patience and strength. Step by step I see myself getting further along the path I can't see all of yet. I take comfort in recognizing that progress.
Last night, I dreamed about planting trees with some people I really adore and, in the process, uncovering small things from the past that made them happy. It was really visceral and I relished the feeling of the cool earth in my hands. Nope, I don't know what it means. It just felt good in some ways. (Other parts and implications of the dream, not so much but, that's another lesson: not getting everything I want.)
Life has improved enormously over the last few years. I struggle often and, yes, if you're someone I'm close to, you've undoubtedly heard a great deal of bitching and moaning. View at as a sign that I'm honest with you and trust you, lol. (If that doesn't help, I'll throw some cookies your way) Trying to adjust my expectations and ideas about what life holds for me is an ongoing lesson in patience and strength. Step by step I see myself getting further along the path I can't see all of yet. I take comfort in recognizing that progress.
Last night, I dreamed about planting trees with some people I really adore and, in the process, uncovering small things from the past that made them happy. It was really visceral and I relished the feeling of the cool earth in my hands. Nope, I don't know what it means. It just felt good in some ways. (Other parts and implications of the dream, not so much but, that's another lesson: not getting everything I want.)
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Day 189
So, I have to make this decision by tomorrow night and I still don't know what I'm doing. It represents a big change, either way I go and I'm not enjoying the idea. And, yet, somehow, it feels less drama-laden than it did when it was thrown in my lap last week. I'm confused. And, I hate that feeling. I want things to be clearer-cut.
Still processing the shift from PSG and its magick to reality and the mundane. I'd love to be able to craft a synopsis of it, to encapsulate all that it is here for you guys but it's still too big an experience for that. In my usual quiet way, I feel like I absorbed a *lot* from those eight days not to mention picking up some more wonderful friends.
I'm feeling less fearful/anxious/worried since returning, though. (Less doesn't equal without, sadly) I'm looking around for some fun these days and finding bits of it here and there. Going out and getting my first tattoo (quite spontaneously for me) counts in that direction. Trying to find time for a visit to KY and camping again AND going on a derby float trip soon amid all the other stuff I've got going weekends is a challenging bit of that 'fun' thing, too. Stina: I swear I'm visiting soon so get the spare bedroom ready. I'm recovering my love for St. Louis but still need my escapes.
Still processing the shift from PSG and its magick to reality and the mundane. I'd love to be able to craft a synopsis of it, to encapsulate all that it is here for you guys but it's still too big an experience for that. In my usual quiet way, I feel like I absorbed a *lot* from those eight days not to mention picking up some more wonderful friends.
I'm feeling less fearful/anxious/worried since returning, though. (Less doesn't equal without, sadly) I'm looking around for some fun these days and finding bits of it here and there. Going out and getting my first tattoo (quite spontaneously for me) counts in that direction. Trying to find time for a visit to KY and camping again AND going on a derby float trip soon amid all the other stuff I've got going weekends is a challenging bit of that 'fun' thing, too. Stina: I swear I'm visiting soon so get the spare bedroom ready. I'm recovering my love for St. Louis but still need my escapes.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Day 180
Can't deliver a regular blog today, trying to figure out how to handle returning to non-PSG land. Two poems written out in the closest thing to Heaven I've seen have to be worth something, though.
Fading (For Mia)
Yet again you leave
I feel your presence slip away
It sears me anew
Each time you take more
And the schism grows
Less of me stays alive
Less of me breathes
To make room for the longing
For you.
You.
My unceasing plea: Stay.
Solstice Prayer
O Muse!
Speak to me of sun
and wind
and rain
and earth.
And the solace of mistlaced morns,
of drum scored dusks.
We watch and laud that the sun
Pushes on,
Gilding the treetops
Sending the supplicant leaves' edges curling upward.
We turn 'round with joy at the spiraling dance
Our true mother leads us in.
Fading (For Mia)
Yet again you leave
I feel your presence slip away
It sears me anew
Each time you take more
And the schism grows
Less of me stays alive
Less of me breathes
To make room for the longing
For you.
You.
My unceasing plea: Stay.
Solstice Prayer
O Muse!
Speak to me of sun
and wind
and rain
and earth.
And the solace of mistlaced morns,
of drum scored dusks.
We watch and laud that the sun
Pushes on,
Gilding the treetops
Sending the supplicant leaves' edges curling upward.
We turn 'round with joy at the spiraling dance
Our true mother leads us in.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Day 160
Does anyone else ever have days where you feel like you want to say something and you have no idea how?
One of the things about hitting a plateau, emotionally and personally, is that you can feel both stuck and bewildered by the potential directions you could take. Think about it: You have this expanse of possibility in front of you with few things blocking the path but a lot of it looks the same and none of it seems to have any clear advantage over any other direction. And, at the same time, you don't feel like you're progressing or growing much. I've been going through days where I feel like I should withdraw from everything again and I can't seem to make myself do it. That's mostly because the flashes of joy I get lately are coming from *being* with other people and not from being alone. Right now, being alone sucks and it used to be a way for me to reconnect with me, to feel more centered. Something has changed again and I don't know if that's what's driving this recent upswing in bitching I've been experiencing or if it's just a sign that I'm not listening to me enough or doing what worked in the past until it starts working again.
Obviously I'm excited about PSG and getting all that together is still taking a lot of my focus. 12 more days until I leave for that and I still need something to sleep on and a few other supply items (not even getting into food). That makes me happy lately, thinking about that. That, some conversations I've been lucky enough to get to have with Emma recently, and joining up with the ARRG Jeerleaders (oh so much more on that another day) are the small bright spots in a time when I just feel out of step with so much else in life.
One of the things about hitting a plateau, emotionally and personally, is that you can feel both stuck and bewildered by the potential directions you could take. Think about it: You have this expanse of possibility in front of you with few things blocking the path but a lot of it looks the same and none of it seems to have any clear advantage over any other direction. And, at the same time, you don't feel like you're progressing or growing much. I've been going through days where I feel like I should withdraw from everything again and I can't seem to make myself do it. That's mostly because the flashes of joy I get lately are coming from *being* with other people and not from being alone. Right now, being alone sucks and it used to be a way for me to reconnect with me, to feel more centered. Something has changed again and I don't know if that's what's driving this recent upswing in bitching I've been experiencing or if it's just a sign that I'm not listening to me enough or doing what worked in the past until it starts working again.
Obviously I'm excited about PSG and getting all that together is still taking a lot of my focus. 12 more days until I leave for that and I still need something to sleep on and a few other supply items (not even getting into food). That makes me happy lately, thinking about that. That, some conversations I've been lucky enough to get to have with Emma recently, and joining up with the ARRG Jeerleaders (oh so much more on that another day) are the small bright spots in a time when I just feel out of step with so much else in life.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Day 156
In which I talk about an idea that seems weird even to me.
So, my counselor, Rachel, has this habit of assigning me homework. (I probably mentioned this and forgot. Redundancy is the new new.) Anyway, at our last appointment she gave me the assignment of finding a picture of myself from childhood that I liked (that showed me being a happy, unabashed kid) and putting it in a frame just as I would one of the munchkins. This actually presented more of a problem for me than you might think since I don't really like many pictures of myself as a child and usually respond to them with something close to "What the hell was I doing there?!" And, after a certain age my teeth started to go crooked so pictures of me smiling at all naturally are in short supply. However, I don't skip homework assignments-I'm pathologically unable to do that. So, yes, I found one. And, since I don't have a frame for this oddly sized Polaroid, I'm putting it on here (since I do that with pictures of the munchkins, that counts, right?)
Please reserve your comments (if you're inclined to make any...).
So, my counselor, Rachel, has this habit of assigning me homework. (I probably mentioned this and forgot. Redundancy is the new new.) Anyway, at our last appointment she gave me the assignment of finding a picture of myself from childhood that I liked (that showed me being a happy, unabashed kid) and putting it in a frame just as I would one of the munchkins. This actually presented more of a problem for me than you might think since I don't really like many pictures of myself as a child and usually respond to them with something close to "What the hell was I doing there?!" And, after a certain age my teeth started to go crooked so pictures of me smiling at all naturally are in short supply. However, I don't skip homework assignments-I'm pathologically unable to do that. So, yes, I found one. And, since I don't have a frame for this oddly sized Polaroid, I'm putting it on here (since I do that with pictures of the munchkins, that counts, right?)
Please reserve your comments (if you're inclined to make any...).
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