I’m still in the same place. During the daylight hours, I daydream about “someday” when I finally figure my shit out, and during the dark nights I dream in high detail, complex messages that make little sense, and I run away from fears like I’ve always done. I think I’m making snail-slow progress, and I do try to simply plug along. Maybe because I haven’t been good with keeping up with writing and/or solitary time is why I feel far away from myself. Doi.

I can’t hide my discouragement with the (family) holidays. Not only is this time of year the marker for my mother in law’s death, it’s also simply never been my favorite time. Being one of the commodities between my divorced parents made holidays a thing of utter stress and dread. And I’ve had so little in the way of “tradition” in my life, I scarcely have any iota of what a family “tradition” might feel like. Other than the traditional schlepping from point A to point Z. The couple traditions we did observe with my mother (whom I consider my primary family) mainly consisted of Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve, and every thing else was as it came. Traditions at my fathers usually entailed listening to him fight with his wife-of-the-moment or swearing at the TV while the football game was on. I’ve refused to attend Christmas day gatherings with his family since I became of-age because it was always white linens, fine china, Christian dogma, materialism, classism and passive aggressive bullshit. I’ve just no patience for it. I don’t make a big deal out of it, it basically just got way too difficult to go to 4 places in two days with both of our divorced families, and I finally just said, if we’ve got to give up anything, it’s going to be the dads. Both my Hubby and I were/are closer with our mother’s, and since my mother is alone, I never felt any guilt about giving up my dad’s family celebration: they’ve enough people there that it’s uncomfortably packed. Suffice it to say, I find it difficult to get a tradition going for myself, holidays especially.

I am starting to understand the need for at least some traditions, and also the beauty of being able to make up my own. It is difficult, though, and sometimes feels very vague to me. We’ve become so completely and utterly estranged from our old life, I feel like we’re just flying completely blind. For my heathen holidays, my attempts have been trying to make a special dinner for Hubby and I and a small, solitary ritual. Most times, the ritual is ok but dinner often ends up being just getting something on the table. This Yule, however, was really awesome, I must say. I came home from work, took a ritual shower, dressed very formally (which is something I NEVER do) in all of my symbolic finery and had a very lovely, albeit a teensy bit awkward, ritual. I even felt compelled to masturbate (!) and felt as if there were a presence (one, maybe two) behind me watching and nudging me along, which led to a different sort of orgasm, more powerful than I would probably normally have by myself. I meditated a lot, and though I usually try to do ritual dance, I didn’t this time. I did my sister’s calendar tarot spread, which had an incredible amount of high cards, but since I’m still kinda ~eh~ at interpreting, I may show the spread to my sister and ask for guidance (I use a weird deck, though, so I’ll have to compare the cards to a traditional deck). Hubby came home as I was finishing up and made us a wonderful Shepherd’s Pie with pork and we had a very nice evening together. I hope every pagan holiday can be that nice 🙂


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