Fireplace Altar: The only place in the house where candles are lit and incense burned. Features a glass of water offered to the ancestors (since I’d packed up the Ancestor Altar a few weeks ago, thinking I’d be moving). Candles from right to left: Gerda, Freyr, Loki’s red pillar candle, Brigid, Bastet, Freya. One ancestor and two servitor tealights in front.
Group Deity Altar: Offerings of wine, cookies, and cinnamon bread to Brigit, Bastet, Freyr, Freya, and Gerda–and a glass of whiskey for Odin (as a courtesy). Painting of The Conjurer by Disasterina in the background.
My statues and drawings of Loki were packed a few weeks ago, when I thought I’d be moving. What remains are some ritual objects along with a stack of hardening donuts (fresh supplies difficult to obtain due to “shelter in place” restrictions), a dab of Nutella, and glasses of wine and Fireball Whiskey. Also, the daily cup of cinnamon tea. As for the gingerbread house, this is an offering that has greatly delighted him–and he is much attached to it. It stays on the altar all year long.
The artificial candle in the back has been running literally for months, 24/7, on one battery that has never been replaced (ordinarily, it should have exhausted itself in ten hours of continuous use). Every now and then it dims, and then I mention it to Loki and it suddenly “recharges.” I am not making this up! I am reminded a bit of Thomas Pynchon’s “Byron the Bulb”from Gravity’s Rainbow–is this a manufacturing miracle or something more? Who am I to argue with mystery?
The above altars are focuses of a practice which is now becoming daily again. Some daily elements have always been consistent, others not so much.
Thanks to no longer having a roommate and to now living alone, in Covid-19 lockdown, I’ve been able to establish the practices again without distractions.
This isn’t personal drama, just the sober realization that I might not make it through this pandemic, just as others have not, and will not. I’m sixty-five. In this country, I (and so very many others) are expendable. It’s not just older people, it’s queer and trans and gender diverse people, and Turtle Island first nations people, and POC, and immigrants caged… poor people, homeless/houseless… Yeah, I try to put all this in perspective, and to be personally stoic but spiritually open to the fact that my “wyrd” may consist of dying alone, without the people I love.
I’m mainly worried about my cats: Popoki, Niblet, Freya, Varda, Keola, Kia’i, and Arya. Who will feed and care for them? Someone do that for me please!
And my kids–they’ll miss me–and any opportunity for closure they may have needed for some of my most stupid child-rearing mistakes will be gone. All the things they wanted to say, all the things I wanted to say… (I love you, I love you, I love you!)
Unless they say my name and light a candle after I’ve gone. Unless they deal with me as an ancestor newly among many, part of a vast company prepared to shower blessings from beyond, as if I’m present to them in another way, and open to healing. The dead can change…
Thanks to the teachings of Daniel Foor, for the last couple of years I’ve been doing “ancestral medicine” work with my ancestors. My work is not complete but I’ve asked for and then felt healing with most of my stickiest, most painful family quandries (not all, but most). I am at peace with the lineages of my grandmothers and grandfathers. I ask for blessings for my mother (still alive) and for my kids. I’ve even mostly cleansed my relationship with my deceased, neglectful, narcissistic, alcoholic father. I don’t feel love for him, just a kind of pity, and the comfort of not having him as an ever-present, gaping hole in my life. My wounded child is mostly okay now, as far as he goes.
I’m not being morbid. It seems to me that the real work of this liminal waiting time–the time of social lockdowns–is to be spiritually and personally introspective and to make sure that all the relationships that truly matter are cared for in ways that are more forgiving and loving. And to shuck the others that are meaningless or toxic, to wish them well and wave goodbye. Out with the dross. Out with the pointless and thoughtless habits… in with the new, to make a new world. Can I live up to this lofty agenda? I don’t know but I will try. And if I can’t live up to it one hundred percent, I’ll die (eventually) into it.
I’m blessed. Past spiritual teachers of mine have recently come forward with new offerings to the world. Those of us who are clustered around the modern version of flickering firelight–the cold electronic light of our screens (if we’re privileged enough to have them!)–can easily partake. I’m hoping that other offerings of generosity and bravery are showing up beyond the internet: local mutual aid, more food banks, more emergency housing, grocery shopping for seniors and disabled people, and so on.
My affairs are mostly in order. I leave behind cats, books, trinkets, a house, a few bills, and my writing, whenever I do go.
So remember me with forgiveness if you can’t remember me with love. And children, light a candle for me. Find me among our ancestors. Say my name.
I don’t have to tell you all, but this is a time of intense, scary weirdness. Here in the U.S., the pandemic is going to overwhelm our medical system and our “social order” (such as it is), thanks to the criminal ineptitude of our federal government. Many state and local authorities are more competent, but they are hampered by federal grandstanding, lack of money, lack of vital equipment, and federal budget shenanigans. And, unlike Germany, where Chancellor Merkel assured her citizens that all will be cared for, many of us here in the U.S. are considered disposable. Our impending demise is supposed to be “good for the economy.” Now, that’s always been the case here–people who are marginalized, exploited and oppressed in the U.S. have always been considered disposable and many of this country’s policies have always been brutal and genocidal–but the Covid-19 pandemic shines a glaring spotlight on this shadow side of our national history and character.
People like me, who are old, now find we have an “expiration date,” a “shelf life.” I guess that’s one way to ransack the social security system, huh? Just kill off the older people and that’s more moola for 45’s golf games.
So, this is a time of tumult, suffering and uncertainty for all, on all kinds of scales. Personally, I have been totally alone since February 27th, with approximately five actual in-person human contacts since then. I live a reclusive life anyway, but I did cherish my ability to go to the grocery store now and then, or have a meal out, alone, with a book for company. Now I don’t dare. My cats are my dearest companions in this time, as everyone else I love is far away. I’m kind of holding on to a thread right now, hyper-alert to the sounds of traffic from Highway 20, a voice from the neighbor’s backyard, and the sight of the mist that travels over the mountain outside my window. However I do talk more to friends and family on the phone, or the internet. And I do know how lucky I am to have a roof over my head and some canned goods in the cupboard (though my toilet paper stash is low).
So, with all this happening, it was amazing to be graced with two magical miracles this month. On the same day, March 10th, two beings (of very different kinds) returned to my sphere. Both were important to me (for different reasons) and I thought both were gone forever.
The Cat Returns
For most of 2019 and the first part of 2020, I had been feeding and gradually taming an outdoor cat which I named Arya because she was such a tough little thing. She was a beautiful silver-grey cat with extra toes on her front paws and celadon green eyes. She had one clipped ear because she’d been spayed by the owner who’d abandoned her on my property (Meowington was another one of those cats). She became feral and fearful. I worked hard to earn her trust with regular meals placed near her lair in a wood pile, sitting near (but not too close) while she ate. She got used to me and I moved closer. Once she began to trust me, she began to enjoy my petting her while eating. She became a faithful creature, always watching for my appearance at the back door once dinner time approached. She was very punctual. And her confidence in me was precious.
By mid-January, I thought she was at the point where she might let me pick her up. (I wanted to get her into a crate and take her to the vet for shots.) I was also considering if I should bring her into my indoor cat family. (I have six indoor cats already and taking on a seventh might be too much).
But during the coldest part of January, a neighborhood tom cat began trying to chase her off around mealtimes. (He’s not a cat I feed.) Sadly, he succeeded. She disappeared for a couple of days and I tried to not worry. Then she showed up for dinner again at her usual time. I was so relieved! But the tom cat must have scared her away again because after that one meal she never came back. A neighbor told me she saw Arya one evening a couple days later but no one saw her after that. I would call for her during my walks, worried that she’d gotten stuck in someone’s basement or garage. Finally, I gave her up for dead–figuring a coyote or wild cat had killed her.
I grieved for Arya. I missed her more than I anticipated. So I was stunned and shocked when she appeared on the road outside my house on March 10th, near her usual dinner time. It was an incredible coincidence–I’d just gone outside to take the trash cans out. Arya was super-skinny and wobbly. At first she was too nervous to come to me. But a large bowl of canned food drew her near enough for me to touch her. I could feel every bit of her spine. She looked like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. I went indoors to grab a cat crate while she wolfed down the food. She was so intent on eating that I was able to scoop her up and plop her into the crate. This scared her of course. But once I had her indoors in the enclosed sun porch (somewhat separate from the rest of the house), she relaxed after a few minutes of panic. More food calmed her. I stayed with her as well, petting her until she felt comfortable.
(Bottom left, Arya before she disappeared. Middle, Arya half-starved when she reappeared. Right, Arya getting plump and healthy again.)
I’ve been caring for her ever since. One of the few times I’ve gone out in March was a trip to the vet, so she could get her shots and be tested for feline leukemia and HIV. She now has a clean bill of health, along with flea, tick, and worm treatments. She’s eating well and putting on weight. I have resolved to keep her indoors as the mean tom cat is still around. I am in the process of introducing her (carefully) to the rest of the cats.
Arya’s return is the first of March’s miracles.
The Teacher Returns
And now for the second, which gives an important boost to my determination to use magic (and common sense) to get through this pandemic.
The Witch’s Primer course, offered online by Ariel Gatoga, was an important resource for me during 2016-2017, when I started my first Guild of Ornamental Hermits fantasy novel and began planning my move (my escape!) from Hawai’i back to California. I had stumbled across The Witch’s Primer on the internet and was quickly captivated by the material as well as Ariel’s voice and humor. Each class helped me to focus my energy and pay attention to self-care. In this way, Ariel became my first official witchcraft teacher. I have studied, and still study, other esoteric traditions and have had some wonderful teachers. However, I don’t think I ever enjoyed a teacher’s personality so much.
In addition to the Primer, I spent many hours listening to his lectures while preparing my house for sale (painting bedrooms, cleaning…). For months, thoughts of magic and magic practices permeated my house. I am not surprised it sold quickly once it was on the market. (FYI, A Charmed Life is one of my favorite lectures. I’m revisiting it again as I prepare for my next out of state move!)
Then Ariel dropped out of sight in the middle of 2017. There was no explanation. It was all very abrupt. I was very sad. I missed the teachings and his humor. I worried that some catastrophe had happened. And then I moved on–basing my subsequent explorations of witchery on other books and sources, yet weaving them in with what I’d learned from the Primer. Ariel’s teaching remained foundational as I began to develop a regular, eclectic practice.
Fast forward to March 10, 2020. Suddenly a group email appeared from Ariel Gatoga (I’d been on his previous mailing list). The email heralded his return, which now consists of a new website, links to all his vintage lectures (plus new materials) on a new YouTube channel, a Facebook page, and an Instagram account. And over the last few days, Ariel has been offering online Tarot readings (group and individual). I encourage all who are interested to visit his site and his offerings. I think you’ll be pleased.
As for me, I couldn’t be more delighted to have Arya the Cat and Ariel the Teacher back in my life. Magic is alive. Blessed Be!
Before I launch into the pagan/witchy portion of this blog, I want to share the medical and public health information that we should all pay attention to, regarding the spread of Covid-19, which as of today March 11th, is now officially declared a pandemic by the World Health Organization. (WHO updates may be found here.)
I don’t know the source of the above infographic, but notice the bottom right–using a paper towel to turn off the faucet. Not all “how to wash hands” information includes this key piece of information. The recommendation is to wash hands with soap and water for 20-30 seconds at least.
One thing seldom addressed: wash your hands before (and after) doing or touching up your make-up!
Below, the general U.S. Centers for Disease Control (CDC) recommendations.
Next, something about how to support those in higher risk groups. Remember that older people are already prone to isolation and loneliness, recently shown to be more hazardous to health than 15 cigarettes a day. Therefore, if you have an older relative or friend, check in with them frequently, daily if possible. It’s not so hard to do. Email, text, phone, or post on social media. Let them know you care.
I give importance to science and public health data, and I act on the common sense recommendations which have served humanity well in situations like this. But I also find ideas, comfort, and inspiration in my polytheist/pagan and witchy spiritual path for extra added “oomph.” (Can’t hurt, could help!). So here I will share a few things that have been shared with me that could be added to a pagan or magical practice to boost health, resilience, or to ward and protect.
Magical Social Distancing
Use this social “down time” to do magic stuff. Work some spells. Clean your altar. Listen to witchy podcasts. Catch up on your witchy reading. Get in touch with nature. Look for hagstones in the riverbed. Make friends with a new tree. Stuff like that!
Here’s an Immunity Boosting Sigil published by sigil expert, Laura Tempest Zakaroff, on March 8th. It is a shared magic sigil. Zakaroff gives permission for its use via Creative Commons licensing (see text below sigil). Please click the above link to read her blog about its development and use. Zakaroff’s book, Sigil Witchery–A Witch’s Guide to Crafting Magick Symbols, can be found on her page, here.
Energy and Breathing Practices to Boost Health, Resilience
Most of us know about yogic breathing and its cousin, tantric breathing, and other such practices. Here are two breath/energy practices that might be less familiar.
This is a brand new discovery for me, and I intend to delve and dive into this man’s work much more deeply. At the moment, I just suggest trying this (on an empty stomach, sitting or lying down). I’ve done a lot of energetic and breathing type practices in my life, but I’ve never felt anything quite like this. I’m making a habit now to follow the guided breath video below, as soon as I wake up. I really like what it does!
Six Healing Sounds
My dear friend, the late Marcia Kerwit (Wexler) was a senior instructor for Mantak Chia’s Healing Tao. She shared the Six Healing Sounds practice with me many years ago. I have just found my old page of instructions and intend to pick up this practice again! According to Marcia, this practice “talks” to your organs and keeps ’em happy. Here’s a link.
“Masturbation causes a rush of dopamine, which is a chemical that is associated with our ability to feel pleasure. Along with the rush of dopamine that is released during an orgasm, there is also a release of a hormone called oxytocin, which is commonly referred to as the “love hormone.”
This concoction of chemicals does more than just boost our mood, it also can play a key role in decreasing stress and promoting relaxation. Oxytocin decreases cortisol, which is a stress hormone that is usually present (in high volumes) during times of anxiety, fear, panic, or distress.”
According to the article, masturbation and orgasm increases white blood cells and the hormones seratonine, oxytocin, and norepinephrine (which counteract stress hormones, thus lowering inflamation), and generally “promotes a healthy immune system.”
And when you add solo sex magic to the mix… perhaps incorporating the above sigil to boost your health and immunity… hey!!! (For a great book on this topic, check out Jason Miller’sSex, Sorcery, and Spirit:The Secrets of Erotic Magic. (Link to all his books here.)
Offerings to Deities, Ancestors, Others
Who do you work with? Is there anyone who is particularly focused on healing? Now is the time to make some extra offerings and/or cultivate a more regular practice, in order to ask for assistance. For example, one of the deities I work with is Brigid, a Celtic goddess who assists with healing (among other things). I’ve been making offerings to her on a (mostly) weekly basis now for several months, so I feel comfortable about asking. I also have asked my patron deity, Loki Laufeyjarson, to help me keep an eye on my health. He gets an offering of cinnamon tea every day, plus other beverages and goodies throughout the week. Again, I feel comfortable asking for extra help during this time, because I’ve taken the time to cultivate the relationship with more offering and less asking. On the other hand, another one of my deities has expressed a lack of interest in working with me at this time and so I have to take that “no” with grace. (The above ascertained using pendulum divination.)
Others have suggested working with White and Green Tara, but I personally haven’t worked with the Buddhist traditions. For those who have, here are two links that were given to me:
Two of my favorite guides for working and collaborating with unseen allies include the above mentioned Six Ways by Aidan Wachter and Daniel Foor’sAncestral Medicine.
Obviously, there are many, many options for contacting and working with unseen healing allies, depending on your own spiritual and magical practices and the pantheons you work with.
Talismans, Wards, Protection Spells, Servitors
There is so much to say on the above, and I am no expert in any of these methods. I am considering how to best use Zackaroff’s sigil, which is a form of talisman. And I did renew contact with a previous servitor and have enlisted its help in keeping uninvited or unruly “guests” away from my house. This includes any harmful microscopic guests who, with all due respect, are not wanted here at the moment.
One person on social media suggested that talismans and servitors could be used to warn us away from areas of contagion (so pay attention to that little voice of caution if you use such methods). Other people made health and protection recommendations, including: Benebell Wen’s book of Fu Talismans; the “2nd Pentacle of Mars from the Key of Solomon;” smoke cleansing of the home; working with the “Forty Servants” deck of servitors, particularly The Healer, The Depleted, and Harvan.
As you can see, there is something for almost everyone and the above list is a very short sampling of what’s out there. As I said before, can’t hurt, could help.
On social media, one person mentioned talking to their doorways, windows, and thresholds of all kind (to keep contagion out), as well as communicating with all foods, supplements, and medicines–asking all for extra boosts to the immune system and protection from illness. Practical animism dovetails with talismans and warding work.
Émile Coué (1857-1926) was a psychologist and pharmacist known for his use of suggestion and autosuggestion. The Wikipedia entry says:
“Coué noticed that in certain cases he could improve the efficacy of a given medicine by praising its effectiveness to the patient. He realized that those patients to whom he praised the medicine had a noticeable improvement when compared to patients to whom he said nothing. This began Coué’s exploration of the use of hypnosis and the power of the imagination.”
Coué later discarded hypnosis in favor of autosuggestion. He is known for the famous affirmation, “every day, in every way, I’m getting better and better.”
As a professional hypnotist and hypnosis instructor, I’ve been aware of Coué and the power of self-talk for several years. Thanks to him, I’ve been charging my presciption meds on my altar, and I offer blessings and thanks as I consume them, along with self-suggestions that I will have the maximum benefit and minimal (or zero) side effects. I am reminded now to extend this to all foods and supplements which enter my body.
Such practices can have real results. I know a hypnotist who underwent chemotherapy. She did self-hypnosis to increase the benefit of the therapy and to prevent suffering from side effects. She had absolutely no side effects. Suggestion might have also played a role in the recovery of Precious Reynolds, an eight year old girl, who in 2011 was one of the few people in the world to survive rabies without getting the shots. From the article in SF Gate:
Her grandmother sat beside her bed, and every day she gave Precious the same stern encouragement. “I’d tell her that she had a big bad bug inside her, and she had to fight this big bad bug,” Shirlee Roby recalls saying to her granddaughter, who happens to be an avid wrestler in her Humboldt County town of Willow Creek. “I told her she had to put him on the mat and put him in a half-nelson and pin him,” Roby said. “And by golly if she didn’t do it.”
Note: A study has shown that positive affirmations are more effective when you deliver them to yourself in the third person, using your full name. See this article which references the study.
Cultivating a Conscious Relationship with “The Smalls”
Again, this isn’t something I’ve done yet, but I find it intriguing. Check out the website and work of scientist and animist Siv Watkins. Her video conversation with Daniel Foor (mentioned above) contains many interesting ideas that could be woven into a spiritual and/or magical practice. The feeling I have about this is collaborative and respectful.
On social media, at least one person has suggested making an offering to the spirit of the novel corona virus (Covid-19) to ask it to leave us alone.
The Sassafras School of Appalachian Plant Craft offers a free PDF document which is very well written, called Herbal Treatment for Coronavirus Infection by Stephen Harrod Buhner via their Facebook group. For your convenience, you may also download it here: coronavirus
I’ve come across a caution against using elderberry in this instance. It is apparently okay-ish as a preventative (ask your doctor!!!), but NOT to be used once you get ill, in case your illness is actually Covid-19. This is because of the herb’s normally helpful increase of inflammatory cytokine production can backfire with Covid-19, causing an autoimmune “cytokine storm” at about the third day, which may damage the sick person’s organs, and increase the chances of a fatal outcome. (Scientific evidence of elderberry’s normally helpful impact on cytocine production can be found here.) Also, read Buhner’s PDF above for a better explanation of all this than I can give here. (Echinacea is also contra-indicated for a similar reason, apparently.)
[A word about essential oils and aromatherapy. Don’t please. These products can be bad for children and pets, and for you too. I have studies to prove this. But I’m not posting them here.]
Of course there is a lot I haven’t covered in this blog. I would love it if my readers would share some of the things which they rely upon already, or plan to investigate, in these days of the Covid-19 pandemic.
Wishing us all health in the coming weeks! Thanks for reading!
Yes, I know all about the “Witch’s Pyramid,” including the silence part. However, in a previous blog I said I would be making a money jar spell by the next full moon to help boost Disasterina’s AIDS/LifeCycle fundraising efforts — as she has pledged to ride her bike “545 fucking miles” from San Francisco to Los Angeles. Please donate so she makes her pledge goal. Here’s the URL for the sponsor/fundraising page:
Well, today, March 9th, is that full moon I spoke of. It’s 9 degrees Virgo, with a sun conjunct neptune. Plus, Mercery retrograde ends today. All good stuff! So it’s time to make a witchy plea to the powers that be, on behalf of this valiant fund-raising effort!
Above you see the inside of the jar, which contains basil for prosperity, organic sugar to sweeten the deal, rose quartz chips to bring lots of love to the fundraising drive, three coins to triple the money coming in, and a petition for dollars containing the above URL. Plus, I dumped in a lot of coppery/gold glitter eyeshadow so it looks rather pretty in there. Then I used a Disasterina sticker on the front of the jar. The green candle burning on top of the lid has been inscribed with the words “AIDS LifeCycle” on one side and “Disasterina” on the other. The candle is dressed with Basil infused organic olive oil.
The candle is burning now, even as I type.
That Blue Burning Candle
That’s for me. It’s a Jupiter spell for general luck and prosperity, which I need right now. I have a complex set of changes to make in the next couple of months, and I’ve begun this time of mucho magicQ with (1) an offering to the lake where I live, as I pulled the “Lady of the Lake” card (surprise!) from the goddess deck today; and (2) the Jupiter spell. In the coming days, I have way opening, protection, health, and certain other spells to craft. It’s going to be a busy, busy time–and I’ve had to get out of the daily practice doldrums and renew that too. I can’t do this without my spirit allies!
Certain material I’ve come across recently also encourages me to cultivate relationships with “the smalls”–microbe magic. Go to microanimism.com and check out the work of Siobhan Watkins, Ph.D. Can’t hurt, could help. (I’m in the high risk group–age and pre-existing health conditions–so I am thinking about this stuff rather a lot these days.)
So… people… we’re gonna need all the luck, resilience, and smarts we can possibly muster in the days ahead. Bring in your protection wards and health-strengthening magic while you’re washing your hands for more than 20 seconds. Charge your medications on your altar, if you have one. I also recommend you check out the Healing Tao “Six Healing Sounds” and do them–particularly the lung sounds and poses. Do anything else that strengthens you.
There is so much to say…but perhaps that’s another blog post. Be well!
Loki Laufeyjarson has a lot of “kennings” (descriptive phrases used instead of a name or a noun): “The Sly God,” “The Bound God,” “Worldbreaker,” and so on. You can find a number of these names listed on this page of the Grumpy Lokean Elder blog and in many other places. But what I haven’t found yet is a kenning that expresses the loving side of Loki’s nature, with regard to his family as well those who work with and/or honor him.
Earlier today I was listening to this new podcast episode of Gifts of the Wyrd. This is an episode which focuses on Loki and his family. Bat Collazo and Luke Babb were the show guests and John Hijatt is the show host. One of the topics of conversation included feelings of being loved and accepted when in contact with Loki. I have heard and read this so often from people who work with Loki that I would venture to call this a “verified community gnosis.” This feeling of love and acceptance–sometimes spontaneous and surprising–is one of the ways I know he’s “around.” In fact, as soon as this topic was broached during the podcast, I felt this love coming from him. My first response was, “oh, there you are!” (since I’ve been a bit disconnected from spiritual practice lately) followed by “how lucky I am!”
There’s an incredible sweetness associated with many of my dealings with Loki, often accompanied by a simultaneous sense of “unholy glee.” I find this mixture intoxicating and fascinating. It’s deeply enjoyable. It’s joy.
For some, I suppose it could be a bit startling to realize such feelings radiate from a deity who has been reviled as “the Norse Satan” or a cause of destruction or pointless mischief.
I’m not saying Loki is “wholly loving” though! Most of us know that many of his more unnerving kennings are also well-deserved. But I think it’s past time our community shared a kenning that acknowledged Loki’s powerful love for those who honor and trust him.
While I do think there’s no better way to age-out in this life than to become an “old witch,” I do wish someone had warned me that this time of life is as confusing (if not more so) than adolescence! I feel like a teenager again: confused about sex and my changing body, experiencing weird hormonal shifts, pissed at the way society dismisses me, concerned about my economic prospects, the way people act around me, my place in the world…
I talk with my friends about how weird this is. We’ve not yet reached the point where we’re dying off (yet), but we’ve entered the realm of “near-death” experiences even as we consider a life on social security. What I mean by “near-death” in this case is the momento mori nature of becoming gradually more invisible to those who still exist, apparently, in The Land of the Obtuse Living. We who are visibly aging beyond what is fashionable no longer matter as we once thought we did, no matter what our accomplishments. We are pushed ever more to the margins of all human consideration–familial, economic, artistic, social…
A long-time friend called me a couple of weeks ago. It’s been about five years since we talked. She and her husband recently moved. They had an economic need to downsize and that meant leaving the city where she lived for so long, moving to a town on the outskirts. She’s socially isolated as a result. I was commiserating with her (yes, I feel that too) until she mentioned an 80-year old neighbor across the street who was friendly, but then she said something to the effect that this neighbor “won’t be around for very long so why bother?”
OMFG. When even the younger old can be this callous toward the older old, who are we as human beings?
I’m also preparing to move. I’ll be saying good-bye to this lake and those mountains sometime this spring. I’ll be moving closer to a real city, closer to people in general, nearer to some friends and medical care. I need to be in a place where I can access things like food and care if illness and infirmity strike. Here the nearest bookstore is twenty-two miles away. I’d like a situation that’s more walkable.
I moved to Lake County to be as near to my adult children as I could afford (150 miles away from the SF Bay Area). But after two years here, and not much in the way of visits, I have no hope of much attention from my children, so it no longer matters how far away I live from them. It’s difficult enough just to get an appointment to FaceTime with them once or twice a month. I can’t blame them, really. They are attempting to navigate the hell that is young adult life in a world of accelerating climate change, citizens of a fascist country that is greedily genocidal. (We elders are costly–I presume we’re among the “disposable.”)
I am bewildered. This is not what I thought would happen to me at this age. I thought I would be cherished a little. And though I remain interested in so much (and interesting too, I hope), and long to participate in many of the exciting movements and resurgences that are going on right now, I realize my role can only be as a quaint onlooker unless I galvanize a bunch of other pissed off older witches, artists, writers, and musicians to Do Some Stuff and Kick Some Ass. I’ve always been quietly audacious. I now find myself wanting to throw my aging back in everyone’s face much as I used to want to throw my youth. Here’s the story of (some of) my life:
“You want a pregnancy test? I’ll do it. You want punk rock vinyl fashion? I’m making it happen. You want a feminist space group? Already done. You want a sexologist for a wife or a girlfriend? Watch me! (Oh, you didn’t want that after all? Too bad!)You want a three-part fantasy novel? I’ve got one in the works! You’re expecting fierce commentary about what it means to age in the 21st century? I’m so fucking on it!“
And so I find myself saying it still, the same thing I’ve said for at least fifty years: “World, don’t you dare underestimate me, not even now. Just watch what I’ll do next!” The funny part about all this, of course, is that no one much cares and I know it. But I really have no choice. It’s an all-out, bat-shit old lady thing.
What has kicked off this melancholy musing? A combination of things, really. Looking around at all the things I’ll either pack or give away. The boxes of family photos no one seems to want. Stuff I’ve collected, written, drawn. Business records and “archives.” More fine china than I actually need… It’s not that I feel I live in a museum (yet) but I’m still ravenous for dynamic interactions and transformations. And so I blog, leaving wordy breadcrumbs for the “children” (who may not be mine) who may teleport into my fragrance-free witch’s lair, filled with cats, books, art, and talk of sex and magic over tea.
I’m not done with this world yet. But it seems to be done with me. If the margins are all that’s left, that’s where I’ll be. Actually, it’s pretty much where I’ve always been. I’ve always drawn sustenance from the outer limits. I just didn’t know that life here could feel so diminished. It’s up to me, as a bat-shit old witch, to serve this up with fire and fury.