Altering Expectations

I have continued the morning routine that was set as part of a class I participated in. The routine had formed the backbone of the series of daily summons I had performed in August and continues to be a moment of stillness and preparation for the bullshit of the day.

The descent into the stillness is usually a stepped process. Calm the body. Still the mind. Let the awareness smooth and then begin the routine via visualization.

The body was calmed. The mind was stilled. The awareness was smoothed and the visualization began with the closing of my physical eyes and the arrival of the subtle disconnection that comes with a light trance.

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Acceptance

Seven years and a few months ago, I dreamt of giving up what was a powerful and personal symbol. The bow, sometimes as elaborate and decorated as a role playing game’s prop, sometimes as simple and unremarkable as a wood and string can get, was a weapon my dream self best used against my fears.

And sometimes, against me.

My concern that I was giving up more than a symbol was a valid one, though the beginning of that understanding would take five years to assemble itself. I did not understand why I placed it on that altar at that time. I understand now that the bow was somehow linked with my experiences as a Christian. I had been hurt enough by the devoted followers of a god that rejected me. So I rejected him and the promises that would never, could never, be fulfilled.

It’s not like an apostate could ever keep her end of the bargain, after all.

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Prodigal

The sound of my footsteps scattered across the time-hardened floor despite my efforts to walk quietly. As I passed each pew, I touched its worn corner as if checking on a slumbering friend. The niche of votive candles I had already passed left me warm and fragrant. The presence of the empty church was not hostile to me as I walked between the left wall and the attending pews so I walked with slow deliberate steps to better soak in the soft atmosphere.

“So, how does it feel to be the Prodigal Child?” Continue reading “Prodigal”