A Funny Dream Happened While I'm Healing

While I've been gone from this blog site, an impacted wisdom tooth on the bottom right side of my jaw chipped and became infected.  I had it extracted on the 13th of April.  Yet before then I lost some very dear friendships.  Healing from both things has proved to be harrowing, but I'm managing to get better.  I think from now on this blog site will feature just a log of my dreams.  Now... back to recording this weekend's most twisted dream!

Yesterday the right side of my cheek and jaw were swelled up so much, I felt like I was turning into a hamster. Yeah. Imagine that, me a were-hamster! I couldn't sleep or rest my head very well, so I ended up spending much of the day watching reality-based medical mystery dramas while leaning my cheek on a pillow of ice. Now. Watching medical shows that feature autopsies was not really the kind of entertainment that makes me comfortable while healing from surgery! Yet, nothing else was on on a Saturday afternoon. I was feeling pretty damn miserable and worried that my swelling was a sign of further infection. I was happy, however, to re-read my take home instructions from the dentist and note that the worst of the swelling was supposed to be experienced on the third day after surgery anyway. Anxiety aside, I finally did get to sleep while watching ghost stories on Bio channel and had some very adventurous, mood-altering zombie dreams. Yeah. I dreamt of zombies! Some people may think that zombies are the stuff of nightmares, but I have a fondness for them. Sure, if I saw a reanimated dead person in real life I'd freak out like anyone else, but cinematic zombies I enjoy.

The zombies in my dreams last night were all of people I once knew. We all first started out barracaded in a hospital with a group of children. We were trying to protect the kids at all costs, but somehow a reanimated corpse that had been crushed somehow crawled its way through an air vent and infected the children while they slept. A helicopter crashed on the roof, sending the whole hospital on fire and we all tried to escape into a big white van, but the double whamy of fire and the group of zombies outside proved to be too much. One by one the children were wiped out and only the adults remained. We were forced to go back inside the burning hospital, but by the time we got back a sprinkler system kicked in and all was safe, yet very wet. I thought only one child was left. He had a little smoke inhalation, but doing well. I had not realized he was slowly turning into a zombie until one friend of mine (who ended our friendship in real life) went up to him to wipe off his face. The zombies had targeted the children for a reason and this particular outbreak of undead fever had evolved -- the younger the victims, the better and more pure the zombie infection. As my ex-friend touched the boy, his face began to melt and he cried out. Before I could warn her that she was about to be bitten, his features mutated, his mouth opened up and he sucked at her head. She yanked herself free only to have broken her own neck. As she slumped to the floor, the zombie boy was sucking at a piece of her bloody scalp. That's when my friend Nadine sprung into action and just started bludgeoning the boy into a pulp. When it proved to not kill him right away, I helped her. Together we kept at it and, horrified, realized that destroying the brain was no longer the key to killing the zombies.

There was a stringy mess coming out of where the spinal column was. I figured out that the key to destroying these new kind of zombies was to sever the spine. But the guys disagreed. Even when Nadine and I pointed out that our way of killing the zombies was most sound, they were determined to waste their bullets on exploding some heads. On our second attempt to escape from the ruined hospital and fly off the roof using a small plane, we managed to not get on the aircraft and watched the men battle it out for their lives, only to witness them lose. Eventually even Nadine could not survive. She slipped on some guts and fell off the roof. I raced downstairs and encountered Michelle who hatched a plan to escape underground. She told me that everything in the basement area was cut off years ago and that there should be no one alive or dead there. All we had to do was find the way down.

This is where the dream gets silly. We found a shaft to climb down into the basement, but on our way down, a purple-headed blob-like bodied creature that floated in the air like a giant cupcake and demented smiley face all in one, whistled at us and attempted to seduce us. It had HUGE bloated lips -- like Mick Jagger with a collagen injection if you can imagine that -- and it smacked them, making kissey noises and lude sucking gestures. There was no way to avoid the creature. It took Michelle first, trying to suck her entire body. I managed to get it off her but it took me instead and carried me back into a laboratory. As Michelle escaped, I let the creature basically "rape" me and watched her back. Once she was gone, I grabbed a piece of broken glass and stabbed at the creature but it just kept replicating itself. I woke up in mid-battle rage, my heart racing, and yelped to consciousness.

I can figure out what it all means, symbolically representing the struggles and grievances I've had over my relationship difficulties, plus my anxiety about losing any more friendships. It's not fun to be mourning the relationships I've had for so many years online while fighting an infection in my mouth and healing from surgery. The hospital, zombies, and purple-headed monster are all symbolic of what is going on in my body. I think it's a sign that my mind is telling me I'm stronger than I think I am and that not all is at a loss. Yet I still worry, as any human would, whether or not I've been a good friend. For now, the most healing thing for me is to be a little Hermit and concentrate on getting better.

A full moon in Libra is coming and I'm looking forward to its gentle, emotionally cleansing, relationship-nurturing energy.

My Cloak Sewing Experiment

Every now and then I have to give myself a challenge. If any of you have been following my blog for some time now, you know that I draw and paint well and I'm a pretty confident artist. But could I be a good seamstress? I don't know. I can sew things together like pillow cases, sachets, scarves, ponchos... yet I have no clue how to sew from a pattern and have never learned how to use a sewing machine. Hence I have no sewing machine. I sew from hand. I don't trust sewing machines anyway. Why, you ask? Because I had a bad experience when I first attempted to use a sewing machine... I accidentally sewed (or sown?) thread into the tippy-top skin part of my right thumb and it hurt like crazy. Let me re-phrase what I just wrote: I don't trust myself with a sewing machine. I make crazy miscalculations all the time. I don't think like a seamstress or a craftsperson, I just get an idea and do it until I'm beating my head into a wall! My latest planned disaster-for-now? I decided to creatively recycle two old patchwork skirts of mine (they were torn and not even good enough for Goodwill but the material is so pretty, I couldn't throw them out, even after 15 years!) and sewn them together, cutting the top half of them into a hood, and made something like a cloak.



I often like the idea of a challenge more than the attempt at making it an actual goal, and sometimes I sign myself up for a goal that is "too big for me to chew" but I hack at it anyway, determined to make a mess into success. My attempt at sewing a cloak has become an epic experiment that has proven to be a big headache as mid-way into executing the project I realized that a rectangle does not match a circle pattern... The old mid-1990's style skirts are circular and flare out on the bottom. The velvet I picked for one side of the cloak was cut a rectangle and did not flare out at the bottom and therefore did not cover the lower half. I had to cut V-shaped parts out of the velvet and had to cut the velvet rectangle in half completely. So now, after two days of hand-sewing the garment, I am left with a lop-sided, sloppy-looking cloak that needs a helluva LOT of work. My idea can still work, but I am going to be left with a different-looking cloak than I at first imagined I'd make.



I knew it wouldn't be that simple to make, and that I was taking some chances, especially working without the consultation of any friends who are more handy with sewing projects than I, but I WILL make this look somewhat decent. I still have plenty of material to work with and may add some black lace to flare out from the velvet. What I have yet to do, too, is make the hood more sturdy and sew the skirts better to the velvet to keep the velvet from sliding around. The happiest thing about this is that this project will keep me busy and distract me from winter depression. I long to make the cloak into something that I can really wear at festivals OR for Halloween. At this point, I have some work to do... and I've only just begun.

Check out some of my results below and let me know what you think:



Notice the little "spirit orb" near my face? Neat, eh? Maybe it's a sign I'm going to need some divine intervention to finish this project!







In the last photo here you can still tell that my cloak is basically two skirts sewn together over bits of wine-red velvet. I'm not sure exactly how this will turn out or where I'm going with it, all I know is that I'm going somewhere... and hopefully at the end of my experiment I will have a nice Gypsy-esque-Steampunk kind of garment. Stranger things of mine have been created out of whimsey.

Regarding the Fine Art of Eating MY Own Foot

Watch what you say? Believe it or not, I do all the time, but most usually AFTER I've said something! I've spent countless hours, days, YEARS remembering the things I've said and what someone else has said that I didn't mean, or that they didn't mean, or remember, but the difference between what I remember and what was said/written in a blog, or in a few lines on Facebook, is that the latter can IMMEDIATELY come back to haunt me. What is posted in a few moments of heated passion can bite you back in the ass, and keep on biting you for a long while, especially when other people who may or may not know you well, express themselves just as heatedly back at you. It may seem some people's common sense is impaired when they, time after line written in anger, forget that (to quote my friend Michelle) "the internet is open ended" and have their angry words echoed back to them on a platter of verbal backlash with a side order of embitterness.




I'm a very outspoken person and very emotional, I tend to express myself loudly all the time and, no matter what, people react just as loudly back at me. Sometimes they don't react right away and let their angry back lash brew until they pop a vein and spit their veniom at me when I least expect it. I don't mind a healthy back lash, but some people need to back off and just let someone spill their guts if they want to. Even though I realize the internet is "open-ended", I still relish my freedom of expression and will speak loudly, perhaps even more daringly so than I usually would offline, online. In my experience, I have discovered that whether what I write is nicely and politely said or not, someone out there is going to take offense or make unfair judgements upon my character based on what I say as easily as they would offline. Except when what I say is written down for everyone to see online, I am inadvertantly inviting anyone and their mother to react just as loudly to me online, and they will, especially so when they misinterpret what I have said as an attack. With the advent of the internet, people are safe in their own homes on their laptops to let their opinions fly out and let their ignorance and hatred show more so than they ever would let out in their lives offline. It's also extremely easy to hop on the bandwagon of opinions and "gang up" on whomever voiced the most unpopular opinion. The more passionate and stubborn the voice, the more tenacious the protest against that voice. But don't forget -- sometimes the outspoken person has something to just get off their chest and, even though it may prove to give a knee jerk reaction to someone else's nerves, it is just their opinion based on their feelings, right or wrong -- you can't force someone else to think or feel the way you do and we have no control over what they will think about us. What is the most important thing is what we think and feel about ourselves, and once you find your confidence, you will revel in the freedom you have to speak your mind and heart, and NO MATTER how much everyone and their mom hates what you have said, they can't hurt you.




Even though I have been unfairly bullied by the opinions of others, I will never trade a day of silence, never go back to the times I let others make decisions for me or talk over me -- the uncomfortableness I feel today when even the closest of friends disagree with me over what I believe is NOTHING compared to the pain of suffering in silence. It is a good thing to express yourself openly and brutally honestly than sit back and let other people speak for you (or speak all over you if the case may be). If someone is feeling angry, or has hatred in their heart, or are depressed, they will find it easiest to let it out online; but the freedom to express yourself comes with a double edge to it, speech is like a sword -- what we say can cut others down just as easily as it can cut through the clouds and clear the air. If you don't know how to use your sword, you'll end up cutting yourself more and getting it stuck in the ground when you use it to just randomly attack anything out there. To use your sword correctly, you have to take the time to really think before you speak, really polish and sharpen it... We also have to realize when NOT to pick up the sword -- that we just as easily have the freedom to ignore what someone else has said and to let it go if we don't agree with what is said because sometimes no matter what you say, nothing will produce a positive change.




Over the years I've been accused of taking things too far or going over the top with my words, but truth is, it is only MY opinion that proves to be unpopular and I don't shut-up or "behave" when others disagree with me (maybe this is why I'm accused of being so difficult). I'm stubborn and passionate, but at least all my friends know what time it is with me. I am quick to speak up and protest something, especially when I feel that someone is being unfair to me or someone else. Occasionally I have been wrong in my assumptions of others and I have expressed "sorry" to them, because usually I'm being misunderstood. When you live what you believe and feel "out in the open" your views will be questioned, protested, and taken the wrong way. I'm used to having to fight for any love and acceptance I can get; sometimes I forget to be softer, more gentle towards others. I'm not always prepared for the negative reaction I recieve from people who do not know me well. And even if they DO know me well, I can taken off guard when a friend lashes back at me. Even though I don't like it, I can be proven wrong, it's just when they don't stop to really listen to me and attack me out of a misunderstanding, I am forced into a corner. I don't back down easily because I've learned that, when I do, I get stomped on! I invite people to disagree with me, but there comes a time for us all to shut-the-fuck-up, listen, and then ask for clarification. Too often we're so busy getting out what we think and feel, we forget to take into consideration what someone else is going through -- I'm guilty of that, too. It hurts no matter what side you're on!




I've long tortured myself over the way some people have reacted to what I say, and I'm not giving in to that anymore. I have realized that I have no control over what other people will think about me, but I can put it out there that anything and everything is open for discussion with me -- equally and doubly so on the internet. Just don't hit me upside my head the moment I say something you don't agree with. If you're going to "fight" with me, I invite you to do so in an intelligent, peaceful, adult manner... even if the subject we're disagreeing on is stupid -- especially so if it's stupid! Because a disagreement over something stupid is not worth the loss of a friendship.




I've put both feet in my mouth occasionally, and have the lingering bad taste in my mind to prove it, and I don't mind admitting when I am sorry. I just don't think some people are prepared for the onslaught of negative opinion and reactions they will get when they post their inner most thoughts online for everyone to comment on. And...

If you invite me to give you my most honest opinion, and you don't like what I have to say, you shouldn't feel like you have to end our friendship when we disagree. That happened to me not too long ago... someone asked for my advice and opinion time and time again and I didn't back down, but when I did finally back off and chose to express my anguish online, that's when I was attacked by her and her mother. Next time I will simply ask those who ask me what I think, whether or not they really want to hear what I have to say. I try to be careful about what I say, but I am only human. I've been wrong and I've been sorry yet I will never NOT tell you my truth! This means I may come off intimidating, but this is only because I have the confidence to speak what someone else may not have the courage, or nerve, to say.



Yet am I brave enough to thrust my foot into my gaping, non-stop talking mouth? Sure. As long as these feet are clean.

I Miss Writing

Happy year 2011, all.  I haven't blogged here or anywhere else much lately, partly due to having a lot more distractions in my home.  I remember now why I haven't had cable TV in so many years, and it isn't just simply because I didn't have the income to pay for it, it's because I can turn into a TV zombie.  I'm catching up on shows and news so much, before I know it the day is half gone or it's too late at night, and especially after watching a gazillion news shows, I start to feel heavy, like I'm sedated, totally put into a mood where I don't want to move.  Then as I try to sleep, I close my eyes and keep seeing flashes of faces, a residual effect from watching too much TV, I'm sure. 

The other little problem I've been experiencing lately is that even though I have immediate access to the internet, now that I have a computer hooked up at home (yay!), there are times I just get online to vegitate some more.  I get on Facebook and just play around, take a few quizzes, and before long hours have gone by, my eyes get tired, and then the ennui robs me of my creativity.  I head back into my bedroom and want to draw, but my mind is so tired, so bored out, emptied of ideas, just bleh.  I've given myself a "creative migraine" out of this -- my imagination has pooped out sludge and before long each time I sit down to draw, I just sit there, and to get my mind off it I turn the TV back on or start up the computer.  I log into Mindsay or Blogger and just stare at the blank pages.  It doesn't help that I no longer have the social rapport that I once had here.  Whether or not I blog here, the old friends I once came here to blog back and forth with aren't all here anymore, and it seems like there's a general lack of interest in blogging by others.  I've noticed that in just the last two years, activity on blogs seems to have dwindled.  People like the instant gratification of Twitter or Facebook -- and even I have fallen for it, too.

Writing a blog is, well, about writing.  Journal writing, to be exact.  I keep several handwritten journals at home.  Blogging is public journal writing, so I tend to put more thought and energy into what I want to say for everyone to see.  Sometimes I get online to just react immediately, and even though I don't always write what is the most thoughtful thing to say (and possibly what I wouldn't naturally say in person), I will examine and re-examine what I've written.  In any case, the point I'm trying to make is that blogging, to me, is basically essay-like and can be a kind of chore.  I have to take more time to write a blog.  Checking Facebook is a breeze, but ultimately I don't get as much joy out of it as I do blogging.  Because Facebook is like candy; it doesn't feed my creativity like the good ole ritual of writing does.

I don't often make new year's resolutions, because such promises we make at the turn of a year don't get kept, but this year I really want to channel my energy into writing more.  Not just blogging.  Not just getting online to play with Facebook applications.  Not just to post hundreds of photographs.  I need to get back into the writing, really give myself assignments, really kick out the words I've got collected in the back of my mind, and stop myself from sinking into apathy.

Writing to me is like drawing...  I have a lot of stories to show and tell, writing is just another way to draw things out of my imagination.  I'll always keep a general blog out of my general need for self expression, but I want to stretch out and make writing itself a goal this year.  There are several areas/subjects I want to focus on: write my Witchcraft autobiography, write an on-going online poetry journal, write and revise my ficitional vignettes (I've got notebooks full of them that I could make into short stories), and write a book on Tarot and about my experiences as a reader (amongst many other things that aren't coming to mind right at this moment).  Like the sketchbook goal I made last year (I filled up four sketchbooks-full of drawings), this year I'm just going to let my words fly via keyboard and pen.  The goal isn't about getting my writing published, it's just about writing, just getting the words out, and not necessarily filling up several notebooks or blogs full of my words.  I just want to, and owe it to myself, to get back into writing so I can help myself break the habit of just sitting here and not accomplishing anything.

I want to write just as much as I draw.  Let the words flow...

Snuggle Attack!

Have a wonderful New Year filled with love, from me and Mr. Snuggles!

My first Christmas without Mom

I'm not used to the social pressures of Christmas -- usually I just spend a quiet Winter Solstice at home, maybe volunteer to help out friends with their gift giving/buying, and just order take out for dinner, but this year is the first Christmas without my mother and my aunt... they celebrated the birth of Jesus Christ at this time of year. After someone dies in your family, the holidays become more important and more emotional. I look forward to spending time with my relatives, yet I am stressed that giving gifts isn't enough to really show them I care. Over the last twenty years I spent most of my energy exerting my independence and time away from them, all the while trying to get them to understand why I'm different, expecting them to accept and tolerate what makes me different from them, and then just drifting apart from them because, despite our blood ties, how could they ever accept me? I owe them much more than a trinket or stocking stuffer or whatever -- they are my blood, my life, our connections go deep -- so this holiday season all I really feel like doing is being a shoulder to lean on or asking for one to lean on myself. I haven't always been the perfect daughter, or niece, or cousin. I'm awkward.
I don't ever really fully "fit in" with the crowds of like minds I hang with, too. I forget birthdays, don't always have the money to spend on gifts, and most of the time I'm too self absorbed to remember to wish anyone else anything! And when I do remember it's never in the timely fashion it should be. During the holidays I often find myself apologising to people! I liken this to the way I often have a hard time keeping house -- I just kinda spaz out on the normal social rituals other people practice and I just let too much go til it gets so gone it's nearly impossible to salvage. Ms. Suzy Homemaker I'm not -- and etiquette? What's that? I live in a world where I follow my own flow and, even though I really do care about my friends and family, I'm so used to being alone I lack the "nice" behavior everyone else is clued in on. What stresses me out the most sometimes is when I am invited to a holiday party or family get-together and everyone is expected to "do something" and yet I'm never sure what I'm in for. The last two times I felt so completely inept socially was during a friend's wedding and, most recently, a friend's birthday -- both times I forgot to wrap a gift or present it properly and everyone but me is passing the gifts to the friend-in-honor, taking photos, and handing out gift cards -- I just sit in the sidelines, the only one not following protocol. You would think that it's due to a lack of social training in my family upbringing, but this is not so. You'll see what I mean in a minute...


Christmas with my mother always meant she'd bake a cake and decorate it up for Jesus. We'd sing the "Happy Birthday" song to Jesus and the rest of the night consisted of singing carols or watching films like "The Greatest Story Ever Told", "Spartacus" or "The Ten Comandments". There was always an exchanage of gifts between family members, we'd attend Church, volunteer at homeless shelters or half-way houses, and then Christmas night was spent with friends and another exchange of gifts. It was a time to remember everyone else, never a time to indulge too much in what you wanted. There were Christmases that we went without toys, not because my Mom couldn't afford them, but because we were too busy making sure other people were getting taken care of. My mother was very social, too -- in the house and in church and at work -- busy all hours of the day baking and cooking, keeping and collecting gift cards, always making sure the right people got thanked and were told "I love you" and above all we had to think of God. "The most important things to remember to tell other people is 'I love you' and 'thank you,'" She instructed me from age one, "because you may be the one person in their lives that will ever tell them that." She would also make sure we remembered to wish Jesus a Happy Birthday because He was the reason for the season. It wasn't just a simple well-wishing, it was something very serious. Christmas was fun but mostly, for our little single parent family, it was all about the Jesus. She spent most of my life separated from her family and, when we were reunited with her brothers and sisters after my Aunt Sandy died from breast cancer in 1986, a whole new monthly ritual of birthdays and anniversaries began. The most important of these was Christmas.


Christmases were always spent at my Aunt Madge and Uncle Orley's house. This meant gift giving and cooking became more complicated! There were more people to remember to give gifts to and cook for. I wasn't always prepared to know what exactly to get my relatives for Christmas and oftentimes I was surprised to get a gift I really wanted from an aunt or uncle! My mother made sure she taught me to remember to thank God, but my aunts and uncles and cousins made sure to teach me to remember to appreciate each other. Christmas with my extended family could be just as stressful as the holidays I spent with Mom at church. Gift giving and holiday cooking was like religion. If you didn't do it right or often enough it meant you didn't care, so you had to get going with the ritual to make sure everyone knew they were loved and appreciated. Jesus' birthday was like celebrating everyone else's birthday, too. As an adult looking back on this, I liken it to recognizing God in each other. You saw a desire or need in someone you love and you fill it, pass it on, keep the love flowing... It was hard work to keep up with it! My Aunt Madge was the very matriarch of holiday protocol. While my mother was busy with the religious duties of taking us to church, my aunt was making and keeping a list all year long, both of them always prepared to make sure the kids and everyone else was remembered. Whenever I got gifts for my mom or aunt, I never felt like what I gave them was good enough -- they worked SO HARD to make sure everyone else was having a good time that my efforts to make sure they had a good time seemed so small.

It wasn't like they were hugely strict, it was because they were so powerful in my mind, how could I ever carry on what they did? Even at age 39 I feel like a child. I never was all that interested in the Christian religion like my mother was. I had other ideas and experiences. I don't like to cook or bake. I just wanted to be left alone. I experienced an epic fail one Thanksgiving day in the year 1990 -- it was my turn to cook the turkey and prepare a meal for my mother and brother and I -- but, not being all that talented in the cooking department, I forgot to thaw the turkey! So, no turkey dinner! And Mom was so unhappy she cried and cried and screamed and screamed at me for being so thoughtless. It was not long after that I lost interest in participating in family holiday celebrations altogether. Not because I didn't love my family, it was because I just didn't feel like my contributions would be good enough and that I would no longer be accepted because, after a lifetime of being forced to follow along with Christianity, I found a religion that perfectly fit in with who I am and didn't expect me to be anything I wasn't. I turned my back on my mother's religion, NOT on my mother, but rejecting something that was very important to her, something she believed in with her whole heart and soul, was like me turning my back on her forever. I always felt I failed her, but I would never lie to her. I always made sure to share with her who I am. I wanted to make sure she knew that what she taught me made me the woman I am today and that she was a good mother. But religion would be the one thing that kept us separate.

No matter the tolerance I maintain, I still find it difficult to forgive Christians for convincing my mother that I was going to Hell. The Christian religion separated us. After telling her I was a Witch, there was nothing I could do to make it up to her. She hit a brick wall whenever I shared with her what I believed and why I believed what I believed. For a couple Christmases after "coming out of the broom closet" to my Mom, the ritual of Christmas itself became more stressful. Every Christmas I found myself explaining and feeling obligated to educate, enlighten, and take all the fun out of celebrating the holidays with Christians. I eventually found it far less stressful to spend more time with other pagans and witches. Eventually it was harder to even visit with my mother altogether. It wasn't that I was rejecting her, in fact I had complete respect and perfect love for her and NEVER expected her to believe what I believed. I accepted her for who she was, my mother, and that acceptance went beyond religion. Simple matters of religious rituals aren't that imporant to the God(s), the Divine doesn't care what we call Them, what matters most is that we be excellent to each other!

Every Christmas I am reminded of the "silent night" carol -- the whole peace on earth theme -- and what that really means for us all, regardless of our individual religious affiliations. If we spend too much time focusing on "being right" we forget how to treat each other right. I hate having religious debates, especially when no one can seem to reach a common ground. The key to having world peace is to understand and tolerate our differences and still practice what we believe is right. With that said, I don't feel now that I failed my mother, but I still feel guilty every Christmas because now, after she's dead, I can't get all the holidays I missed with her back. Not just the holidays, but the days and nights we could've been better friends... if only her religion had permitted her to let go of that horrible belief that everyone is going to suffer eternal damnation if they aren't "saved" by letting Jesus into their heart. The last few years I've spent with my mother I did everything I could to please her and make her feel comfortable. This meant having to bite my lip and "wish Jesus a happy birthday" like we used to when I was a child. She could share with me what she believed, but I dared not share what I believed or practiced (even though she would repeatedly tell me she wanted to know more about me). Whenever I did share, she would cut me off, my brother would tell me to shut-up, and so for the last five Christmases I've had to constantly police myself and make sure all the Christians around me were respected. I "turned the other cheek" more times than perhaps they ever have. And every Christmas I would get depressed.




On the other hand, for the last two Winter Solstices I've had a loyal group of friends to celebrate with. While Christmases remained blue ones for me, Yule has become this explosion of social happiness -- the good kind of stress -- ! But now that my mother has died, my holiday stress isn't over... I'm hoping that this Christmas will be an emotional uplifting of the restrictions I felt I had to comply to with my mother. And yet... I feel the burden of her loss, made all the more intense because my aunt passed away this year, too. Will my little gifts wrapped with care be enough to soothe the hearts of my relatives? Gathering with them for Thanksgiving was a nice welcome after so many years being apart. I think this Christmas will be the same, but... there is still a nagging hurt in my heart.

I'm rediscovering that my family loves me (it's something I should've never forgotten). That makes this season more special than ever before. The emotional separation I had with my mother is gone, but now dealing with the physical separation is made easier reconnecting with the rest of the family. Yet I can't help still feeling like an insensitive dork when it comes to not contributing food I hand-cooked and giving only small, inexpensive gifts (some of them I hand made) -- yet do I really have to "go all out" to show I care? Would my Aunt Madge approve of the way I saved money or spent money or whatever? I remember one thing she told me after my Uncle Orley died when I expressed to her how sorry I was for not being around enough to help out. She said, "You're here now, that's what counts." Maybe that is the answer I've been asking for: just "being there" is the gift my family needs.



No matter what the holiday or differences in religion or lifestyle, WE are the GIFTS our family really needs.



I smile after writing that line. Thank you, Madge. Thank you, Mom. I'm here now.

My take on the "Happy Holidays" debate!

First of all -- HAPPY SATURNALIA everyone!

You wish me a Merry Christmas, don't be surprised if I wish you a Happy Yule or the generic "Happy Holidays" -- it's not politically correct, it's about each other wishing happiness for the other, no matter what your faith or culture!

I don't hate anyone who is different than me, and I don't make it a practice to push my beliefs on others, but sometimes being different makes it more difficult to be on the same page with other people. The only way to land on that page together is to start opening up and create a common dialogue. When you take the time to learn about what makes each of us different and find out what we have in common, the better we can fully appreciate and respect each other. But before you can reach that understanding, you have to have confidence and self respect as well. If you worry and obsess over what to say to others, you're caring more about what they think and believe in the wrong way! To give respect, you have to have respect.

Want to grasp the key to world peace this holiday season? Don't get politically correct, don't just generically assume everyone should consider your feelings,
and don't make it mandatory that what you believe should be the universal standard! If you are truly a good, spiritual person and practice a faith that preaches good will to all, you not only owe it to your fellow human being, but also owe it to yourself to reach outside of your comfort zone and really put that good faith in practice and really, truthfully and honestly, wish with all your might and heart for a stranger to have a happy holy day (the root of holiday is holy) REGARDLESS of what you or she may or may not celebrate.

I don't have to make you study my religion to get you to respect me during the holiday season! I find it equally crass and rude to hit your more conservative Christian relatives over the head with a detailed description of what Pagans celebrate. However, it's equally rude for those conservative Christians to assume that their "reason for the season" is the one and only origin of the season! The celebration of Christmas has its roots deep in ancient paganism. If you want to get deeply specific about the origins of Christmas, you have to realize that Christianity is not the only religion in the world that celebrates the virgin birth of a demi-God (a son or daughter of a God) during the longest night of the year, the Winter Solstice. But I don't want to play a religiously correct who-can-piss-the-most contest during the holidays! Wicca is also about giving good will to all humans this time of year, something that everyone lacks all year long, so it is best to let someone wish me a Merry Christmas because it's the right thing to do. It's not politically correct. It's just RIGHT to let someone wish you happiness and it's WRONG to make something as simple and good as a wish for happiness into something poltical, something selfish...

When someone assumes you celebrate what they celebrate, just smile and wish them the same. Wishing someone happiness should be something that is sincere. The winter seasons are harsh. The sunlight is shorter. People are more prone to becoming depressed from lack of sunlight. To reach out to someone and wish them happiness during a normally bleak season reflects genuine good will. It's not just politically correct to be "nice" during the holidays, it's a sentiment that should be practiced all year long!

I'm not Christian and I used to hate it whenever everyone assumed I celebrated Christmas. So whenever anyone wished me a Merry Christmas, I would turn around and say "Happy Yule!" If people want to get specific about what holy day to wish for someone, I usually felt obligated to wish them MY happy holy day! *snickers*

I find it MUCH more insulting when people assume Pagans and Witches don't celebrate a holy day like Christmas. We celebrate the same essential holiday but it centers around the Winter Solstice. If you want to know more about what Yule is, you can check out the description at Wikipedia, or go here to read up on the ancient origins of Winter Solstice holiday traditions, or go to Circle Sanctuary's page on Celebrating the Winter Solstice for extensive information on today's pagan holiday traditions and ancient pagan celebrations and visit Wikipedia for information on what happens during the Winter Solstice. I don't have to go into huge detail myself about what I celebrate because in our day and age so much information is already out there. And yet each Witch celebrates the Solstice differently. Everyone has their own individual celebrations. Winter is so dull and we're all stuck indoors because it's too cold, so no wonder the season itself seems to beg us to have a party! If not to stay warm, to just keep our spirits up.

After practicing Witchcraft for 20 years, I'm no longer so sensitive about who wishes me what -- I realize that when someone wishes me a Merry Christmas it's the same thing as wishing me happiness for the season. We shouldn't have to get so annoyed or hateful or political when it comes to wishing happiness for others! It's all the same wish, no matter what the holy reason for each season. I don't like it when Christians get political about Christmas and nor do I like it whenever people push on everyone a generic holiday greeting as not just a suggestion, but as a law.

I've worked retail jobs all my life and it's never just been a suggestion, it's always been a professional policy to wish customers a generic holiday wish "Happy Holidays" because you don't want to make the assumption that everyone has the same faith or belongs to the same culture. You don't want to isolate yourself from a paying customer, you want to make their holiday shopping experience to be positive -- not just to be nice, but to make money! If a customer feels you truly respect them, they will tend to not only buy more but recommend their friends and family go to your store to recieve the same positive experience. Shopping during the holidays can be a terribly stressful time. The more you appeal to strangers and get on their good side, the more they will spend time in your store to escape the hurry-and-scurry of holiday shopping.
Also, working at retail stores that sell holiday items and candy meant getting educated about each holy day celebrated by North Americans -- there's literally dozens, if not hundreds, thousands(?!) of holidays and other special occasions to buy gifts for year round. One of the best jobs I had was at
Godiva Chocolatier! I learned that to make a big sale was to get the customer to tell me what the occasion was they were buying chocolate goodies for -- if you know more about them, the better you can individualize the sale and the customer feels you have genuinely respected them.

I don't feel ill will whenever someone wishes me a Merry Christmas and I no longer abrasively, pridefully wish them back my "reason for the season!" I think most people realize you are wishing them happiness, pure and simple, and it's meant to be a nice gesture, not a political issue.

I believe that the average person knows better anyway, that it's not that big of a deal, and yet it is a big deal to wish someone happiness all year long!



But if you really want to wish me something exoridindarily happy holiday you could say something that most pagans and non-pagans alike don't often say on the Solstice: AVE SOL INVICTUS! Meaning "Hail the Unconquered Sun!" Because after the longest night of the year, the sun is "reborn" and unconquered by the darkness -- we can look forward to the return of longer days and shorter nights -- we welcome the warmth, acknowledge that the winter will not last, and that happier, sunny days are ahead. Yay.



There should be no debate on that!