An Open Letter to the Disease of Addiction

Dear, Disease, 

I hate you.  I know that hate is a strong word, and that hate is an emotion to be avoided in most situations because the things we hate tend to then be bound to us all the more tightly, but hate is the only appropriate word for how I feel about you.You have, once again, stolen a bright and wonderful soul from family and friends who love her, and you seek to steal more. You are a detestable scourge upon humanity and if you were a person I swear I would kick the shit out of you where you stand.  

You're a liar.  You promise peace but only bring anguish. You try to entice us with illusions of camaraderie, pictures of friends laughing at bar stools and sunny afternoons driving four wheelers across the  mountains with golden retrievers by our side. Those Sunday afternoon Budweiser commercials look so "American", so much like a harmless, lazy summer day.  What you really bring us, if we're addicts, is isolation.  After awhile, we can barely stand to be with ourselves, let alone with anyone else.  Even the mirror is too much to bear. 

You're a thief. You steal our friends, our fathers, our mothers, our brothers and sisters, our looks, our youth, our jobs, and, when you're at your very worst, our lives. You whisper in our ear that we can quit after just one more drink, one more hit, one more pull, one more score.  We can't.  That last time might truly be the last time, and, even if we survive the night, you will be right back at our ear whispering again the next day. You're a seductive bitch.    

You never give us enough. Ever ever ever.  You lure us in with promises of how lovely we will feel, how the troubles of our day will simply melt into oblivion as we slowly melt into a state of drooling stupidity, but those problems are there with glaring honesty the next morning, accompanied by regret, self loathing, and possibly just a touch of confusion at how we allowed you to completely take the wheel in our lives yet again.  Because one of anything you entice us with is never enough to push us over that edge. Neither is two, or three, or four.  Enough is when we can't lift a bottle/glass/syringe/mirror/whatever again.  Enough is when we're flat out, or possibly flat lined.  And that's not enough either, because when and if we come to, we'll be reaching out for you again, hoping that the next time we seek solace in your wicked arms one will be enough to get us to our "happy place".  

I hate you. I will hate you forever.  I hate you for my Dad, my cousin, Lisa, Sky, Drew, and so many others who I will refrain from mentioning because some of them are working at keeping you out of their lives and might not want to be put on record.  You suck. I hope in the new year you will stay far the hell away from the people I care about.  Fuck you.    



     

Post Yule/Christmas/Hanukkah and Onward to New Year's Eve

I've heard this time of year called a "between time" and I think that's true. Right, now, I'm breathing a sigh of small relief that the holidays are behind us (though I and my family enjoyed them immensely) and feeling on the brink of expectation.  I enjoyed gift giving a lot this year, in trying to more outwardly express my love for the people around me. I think that I sometimes get caught up in the Irish way of being too subdued while at the same time feeling very emotional.  My own family has always teetered a bit between outward affection and a sense of being reserved, and I tend to forget that if we don't show folks what they mean to us they won't necessarily know.   This year, I plan to work on that more and see where it takes me.  

Our Yule tree is still standing proudly in the living room, happily twinkling brightly colored lights each night, but it's drinking up less water than before and I know that soon it will be time to let it go. That's kind of how winter is, isn't it? It's  a time of letting go of the things that no longer serve our best interests, of being more introspective, searching out what we'd like to birth when the spring rolls around again.  In a week or so, we'll being packing away the ornaments and taking down the trimmings, tucking them safely away for another year, even as we cast glances toward what might lie ahead in 2016.  If we make lists, maybe we'll jot down a few things we'd like to accomplish in the new year; I did this last year and found it helpful. I didn't call it a resolution list, but rather a list of goals. I find that putting pen to paper and then referencing the things I wrote from time to time can be helpful; it's easier to remember what I want my focus to be, which is important to a person like me whose thoughts tend to run in rabbit circles if I don't specifically direct them.  

Our back yard is in a between stage as well.  We had a load of dirt trucked in over the weekend, a gift from someone who no longer needed it and that we needed desperately to help add to our eroding back yard.  We live on a lake, and the water is trying to reclaim what she feels is hers. We've been planting small trees to help hold the soil, but we needed some good heavy dirt to place back there, and now we've regained quite a bit.  In the interest of doing what is good for the long term, our yard has been torn up by the backhoe which transported all of that fabulous earth. Our resident goose voiced his displeasure to me quite heartily on Saturday and has been camping out in the neighbor's yard ever since. I think that the commotion created by dismantling the back fence, the guys working with my husband in the yard trying  to clean out a year's worth of junk, and the truck being here plowing (literally) through our back yard threw his goose mind for a loop. Added to that is the extra effort it takes for his water equipped body to waddle over small dunes of soil; my thought is that he'll be much happier when the grass is growing back there again.  I concur.  I struggled to be okay with the mess the backhoe driver was making of our yard (seemingly with great relish!), telling myself that oftentimes a mess must be created in order for something good to happen. I think that might be true of our entrance into 2016 as well. We're going to need to shake life up a bit in order to create new avenues of opportunity.  

Happy 2016!!!

Around Town and Beyond

We've been the traveling family lately; first the girl and I went to Massachusetts, and then our whole family traveled to Florida's west coast to celebrate our daughter's birthday.  We decided to forgo the party this year and, instead, visit the Clearwater Marine Aquarium to see Winter the dolphin and her fellow residents there.  In addition to Sparkle Fairy being old enough not to really desire a bounce house and a full scale party (last year was a whole different story-mentions of traveling instead of partying were met with fierce indignation and lots of dirty looks on her part), she'd been wanting to see Winter dolphin to human in real time since we watched the movie quite awhile back.  We also have friends in Sarasota, which is near the aquarium, so we were able to spend a little time with them as well.

The aquarium is amazing. There are some seriously dedicated folks working there to help injured marine life get a second chance, and we found everyone there to be very friendly and  happy to answer questions.  There is something about a dolphin that just makes you smile, and Winter, Hope, and Nicholas were no exception.  As it turned out, the day of our visit was Winter's and Hope's birthday, and our daughter got a kick out of sharing a birthday season with them if not the exact day.  In addition to the dolphins, the aquarium also houses sea turtles, otters, sea rays, sharks, fish, and a pelican (who we didn't see but were assured is still around).  I would heartily recommend a visit to this place if you're in the Clearwater area. 

(Winter and Hope with one of the trainers.)

The next day we were off to Busch Gardens.  We spent the whole of Sunday wandering the park, checking out the animals, and riding some of the rides.  The roller coasters there are SCARY. We rode one as a family, but the coaster with ninety degree drop was too much for my husband or I to ride. We stood outside the gate for the Sheikra, discussing all of the reasons why we couldn't do it, and I briefly considered getting on the damned thing just to make our daughter happy. Suddenly, we saw a family we'd spotted at various places in the park who had two children younger than our daughter.  They were headed for the entrance to the aforementioned ride, heard my hubby and I moaning and lamenting about things like hearts and backs and fear of heights and offered to let Sparkle Fairy ride with them. Generally, I wouldn't do this, but there was only one way in and out of the area, they looked like a pretty normal group of people, and my daughter was desperate enough to make me feel terrible for being such a wimp.  We waited safely on the ground while our brave daughter boarded the car and took the literal plunge on Sheikra.  If you have a chance, and you haven't ridden on this roller coaster, Google it and watch the video for the ride. Some crazy person video taped the whole thing, complete with the ninety degree dive.  I was impressed with the animals housed throughout the park.  The habitats are such that visitors can feel like they're getting very close without being in danger.

("I hate dentists," was reportedly overheard being said by this regal fellow.)


So now, we're home, and planning yet another trip out of town to visit with family in another month!

Samhain Blessings!

South Florida Madness

Home is supposed to be a sanctuary, a place where one goes to feel safe, a nest of sorts.  It's supposed to be a niche in time where family life is cherished, and where, if you want to eat a bowl of ice cream while watching television on a Sunday night, you should feel free to partake.  Last night, our sanctuary was invaded, for the second time in four years of living in this town of high taxes, bad roads, and abundant illegal drugs.

The incident happened at around 8:30. Sparkle Girl and I were sitting at the kitchen table, happily noshing on leftover Mother's Day cake and ice cream, while the hubby relaxed on the couch, settling into a bowl of ice cream and a Joel Osteen program (it's his thing).   Suddenly, the peace in our home was shattered by the sound of hard pounding on the front door, followed by a strange man bursting into our house. At first, I thought the man might be a former employee of my husband.  Given our locale, finding reliable, somewhat normal people to work in the construction industry can be challenging. Over the years, we've had the pleasure of working with numerous half crazy people, and I live everyday with passing thoughts that one of them might come back here to rob us.  South Florida is a transient state and lots of folks come here to escape from somewhere else.  This makes the population interesting, to say the least.

Thankfully, my hubby sprang quickly into action, wrestling the man out of our house and securely locking the front door.  He then proceeded to our neighbors' home to warn them of the danger, and he and D searched for the lunatic guy together.  I phoned the police,who showed up soon afterward, but, aside from a panel of our fence which was snapped off when the invader vaulted himself over it to take off through our back yard, there was no evidence of where the guy had gone. At last glance, he was running shirtless through our neighbors' back yard. After that, he disappeared into the night like some crazed zombie.

My hubby and I have spoken often about living in South Florida. It's no secret to anyone within our circle of friends and acquaintances that I'm tired of being here. In fact, I've been tired of being here for several years.  The absence of four seasons, the rude people, the crime and drugs, the sky high taxes, and the cost of living (which has been steadily increasing) all contribute to my feelings of impatience and restlessness.  Last night's fiasco only solidified this unease.  I grew up in a somewhat small New England town. The area where we lived boasted good schools, and safe, tree lined streets.  It wasn't perfect, but when I return there I lament that we can't raise our child in an area similar to that. No child should have to go to bed in fear that someone might try to break through the door again. Our daughter was badly shaken last night, and I felt anger surge in my belly at the thought that we feel so stuck here due to my husband's company.  South Florida is a whole world away from the type of town I was raised in. At times, it doesn't even feel like it's on the same planet.

The police on scene last night, along with some friends, have advised us that a drug called flakka has hit the streets; it's possible that last night's unwelcome guest had imbibed some of this garbage prior to his evening rampage.  The narcotic creates feelings of paranoia, hallucinations, and super human strength; recently a man was apprehended running down the street naked but for a pair of tennis shoes.  He told the police that he was running from the people who'd stolen his clothing, though there were no pursuers in evidence.  Over the past year or so, the flavor of our neighborhood has been changing, partly due to the fact that a man purchased a home across the street  and decided to rent rooms to anyone who would pay.  His decision to use his home as a form of income has lead to all manner of unsavory characters visiting our neighborhood, including a drug dealer who showed up to make a delivery to one of the women who live there just a few days ago.  The city of Hollywood has no ordinances which prohibit people from using their homes as hotels; the best one can hope is that the homeowner in question is conscientious about researching his/her renters. Apparently, the fellow who owns the flop house across the way isn't.  Adding to this problem is that the demographic of Florida in general is such that sketchy neighborhoods and nice neighborhoods exist in close proximity to one another. Just up the road, there are apartments that host a constant flux of changing inhabitants.  The people who live there use our street to cut through to a local supermarket. Some of them are just normal people, and some of them are not so nice.  On at least one occasion, I've caught some of these folks in our yard, peering over our fence to get a look at what goods we have that they might like to steal. 

 I'm trying to start today feeling as positive as I can, but it's hard.     

  

Mama Day 2015

Yesterday was a beautiful Mother's Day, and I felt so grateful through every hour of my Sunday.  Seriously. I remember back, years ago, pre-baby girl, when I'd watch other parents with their children and wonder if I'd ever know what it meant to be a parent.  Now, here I am, and it's more than I ever dreamed it could be; scarier, fuller, wondrous, amazing, filled-to-the-brim heart magic.   I awoke to cards on the table, gifts from my daughter, a new table and chair out in the garden to make my morning coffee more comfortable (usually I sit on the step outside the garage, which is okay too). I spent a relatively lazy day reading and taking the hours slowly.  I spent a little time with McGregor goose, who thoughtfully wandered into our yard a little after noontime, warming my heart with his feathery affection. This affection is not given lightly, and I don't take it for granted. For the most part, he's given to attacking anyone who comes around me, and it took me a long while to gain his trust myself.  He's sweet, though, and looks almost exactly like a small statue I bought years ago in Home Goods, a goose who sits by our hearth.  I bought it because I was wildly attracted to it for some reason (I do love swans, so maybe the similarity motivated me to bring it home), but I think it funny that now we have an actual goose living in the lake behind our house, who has become a friend of sorts.  He has helped me through some tough times, and I think it's important to remember on Mother's Day that Moms come in all forms. Some of us are mothers to human children, some are mamas to animal children, and some are mothers to the earth. Some are moms to all of these things.  I feel sometimes like the desire to nurture could be an earth saving quality, if more folks could embrace that side of themselves. As well, if we look at nature as a mother, who cares for us and benefits greatly from our affection and attention, we might be slower to engage in devastating earth practices.  Anyway, our goose has connected me more deeply to the land directly around our home, and I needed this rootedness as much as I think McGregor needed a friend after his companion goose mysteriously passed away about a year ago.  Most of the people around me know that, in my heart, I want to return to New England, to the mountains, woods, and cooler climate.  McGregor has helped me to stay in the moment more, to appreciate what is directly in front of me, right here in my own back yard.  He's helped me to heal from hurts nobody else has been able to reach, something a mother does; the earth Mother has soothed my soul through this fierce but also gentle creature, and for that I'm grateful. 

Yesterday concluded with a satisfying dinner with my family at The Cheesecake Factory, accompanied by a friend of my daughter. Their giggles and general silliness through dinner deepened my happiness at being a part of the parenting scene.  I've watched both girls grow over the past few years, awed by how quickly the time passes and at how much kids change in the early years of their lives.  This is truly a journey I'm glad to be a part of.      

The First Friday

The first post of any blog is more challenging than the ones to follow.  What do you want to say? And how do you start this thing without coming off the wrong way (Look at meeee!!!!!)?  I guess I'll start by introduction. I'm a Mom of magical persuasion, homeschooling a daughter who, at first writing, is ten years old and rapidly exiting the world of very young childhood. Actually, she's left that world already and is making a quick ascent to the teenaged years, something I find baffling in that it seems only yesterday we were nervously buckling her into the car seat in my old Kia for the first time.  My husband and I own a family based construction business and live in humid, swampy South Florida (I'll try not to complain about that too much, but, being a northern girl who loves the cooler air, mountains, and New England in general, I will probably digress from time to time).  I'm a writer, and an artist, a lover of nature, and a mostly vegetarian (try being a vegetarian when you're married to a Cajun-I dare you!).   I've been involved in some or other sort of Pagan lifestyle since the late 80's, when the Goddess culture had begun in earnest, and I met a guy in college who'd met a girl who was a witch of sorts and who both passed along some of their knowledge to me, who'd never before been exposed to such things and was intrigued.  My path to date has been a wonderful and eclectic one indeed, at times confusing, at other times liberating.  I find the challenge of following a path and living a spirituality not widely understood by the general public to be an exercise in fierce independence, though nowadays I think there is a bit more open mindedness and understanding among some folks than there used to be.  

What I'd like from this blog is to share and connect.  I'll post creative ideas, homeschool stories, spiritual blips...whatever comes to mind, basically. I hope to learn from other magical parents, to grow in my own life through the catharsis of putting ideas to virtual paper, and have a little fun.  

Until later, namaste!