A Medicine for Crimson Nightmares

Terror

She’s shaking

It’s happening again

Apart, but holding

I am with her

Low, wolf-like thunder

Piercing bolts of lightning

Earth-seizing crimson nightmares

The flooding that could take everything away

It is happening

Again

This time

The same, but different

And I’m whispering

I’m reminding

I’m trying to get through

But the torrents keep coming

And she is frozen

Caught in some other time

Terror

She’s shaking

It’s happening again

But I am with her

I am with her

Breathing, we’re breathing

Separated, but holding

Never alone

I am with her, forever

Through the storm

Maybe This Time?

As the warm sunlight

Spreads across my waking cheek

I hear her

Precious, innocent

Like sparkles and starlight that’s travelled billions of miles to reach me

I hear her

She says

Maybe this time?

Her eyes, wide and playful

She sends me pictures

Of laughter, joy

Of coastlines and deep epic breaths

Of good food, connection

I don’t know how she’s survived this wreckage

All of the cause and effect

All of the tragic results…

I don’t know how she’s still here, saying

Maybe this time?

As I prepare

For the day’s sorry-ass micro-adventure

I am grateful for her

Her persistence over all these years

But I’m still packing the Advil

The ice packs, the cold hard possibility

That this time will be like all the others

That no, this time won’t be like her shining possibility

I still pack them, my realistic expectations

My fears and anxieties

But inside that zippered bag

There’s always room for her

I will always welcome

Her shining face, her big round eyes

Cheering me on, keeping a small flicker burning

Asking

Maybe this time?

I don’t know how she’s survived this wreckage

All of the cause and effect

All of the tragic results…

But I sure hope so,

That maybe this time will be different

And I keep trying, mostly for her

I keep hoping, mostly for her

That maybe this time

Maybe this time

There will be

Less pain

A Spell for New Glasses

Items Needed:

A small black bowl

A handful of dried mint

A candle

Light the candle and ask your supportive guides, or simply your supportive soul parts to be present and assist with this ritual.

Fill the black bowl with the dried mint, place it before you. Using the index finger of your left hand, draw a counter-clockwise spiral in the mint while stating the following intention:

By the powers of all that have gone before

Those that once held, but now block the door

I cast this spiral turn in the leaves of removal

May all stories of struggle be removed by approval

May the lens of self-judgement and wrongness be released

And may new awareness take hold and increase

Thank the spirits you work with, or simply your own soul that moved you to do this rite. Extinguish the candle. Burn the mint if possible, but if you cannot at least try to compost them versus throwing away in the trash.

~From my newest and unfolding book, The Kitchen Witch’s Way, now available for free in serial format here: https://reamstories.com/sabbathmaiden?storyKey=me39vl3bc55e6d&mediaType=ebook

Orange Plastic Shadows

I’ve been gazing at it

This strange cylindrical object

Watching the way the sunbeams filter through

It leaves orange plastic shadows

Sometimes I shake it, like a maraca

I’ve been staring at its contents

All of these marked oval shapes inside

These things that could destroy my life

These things

That could save it

This strange cylindrical object

It’s been on my altar, hoping for infusion

It’s been beneath my pillow, asking for dreams

It’s been travelling with me, to all the worlds

Holding it out to them, begging for guidance

Or warning

I keep staring at it

I keep, undecided

I keep wondering who I’ll be if this container opens

Its contents spilling down my throat

Who will I be

If the one who has pledged the deep ride

Now coasts on pharmaceutical illusion?

I’m staring at it right now

With all of its warning labels

With my name printed, in large type

As if demanding something, as if requiring

Prescribed

White and blue oblong creatures

Waiting to enter me

Chiding me to open to their unknown effect

I don’t know what I will do

And perhaps there will be a day

Where I will put the blue and white DLX20

Onto my tongue, and swallow

Opening to the terrifying, uncontrollable unknown

Open, riding, taking notes, experimenting

Sacrificing this fixed way of being

Just to see what happens

But for now

I will put it on my altar

I will put it under my pillow

I will travel to all the worlds, asking

I will listen

And I will sit here gazing

At this strange cylindrical object

Filled with the power to destroy me

Casting orange plastic shadows

Onto my mind

Pills

Photo by Nataliya Vaitkevich on Pexels.com

The first time

A pill was placed in my hand

It was blue, and beige

And there was a promise of hope

Attached

I was fourteen

And in the midst of pubescent chaos

I was also

Swimming in trauma and on the mission

To disappear

A kind woman

She prescribed it from afar

And told me that yes, my mother was crazy

I swallowed that pill

And slowly, a fog lifted

I felt supported

There was hope again

This relationship

With my new blue and beige friends

Was temporarily interrupted

By a tall, strange man

With a wolf

For some months

I was captivated

I let him rule me

And

The smoke of the Green Man

Was assigned

Instead

He, murdered

Left me unmoored

And within some months

I was looking over the edge

Again

In the hospital

Fresh from death

A nurse dispensed

My same blue and beige friends

Into a cup

And told me to swallow

I had nothing else to live for

So I did

At the same time

A new pill appeared

This one, sometimes pink, sometimes white

This one, to help me bleed

I don’t remember (because the blue and beige friends, they helped me forget)

But I probably had my first cycle, there in those institution bathrooms

Alone

Blue and beige

Pink, sometimes white

These friends carried me over

That confusing and terrifying

And fucked up threshold

Into “being a woman”

And we stayed loyal

Steadfast in allegiance

Through a decade of trial

One day

There was a clear decision

That me and my friends needed to part

Although a fright of what my body might do

Roiled within me

I had built up courage all these years

To finally face those demons inside, again

So I began

Experimenting

Shaking but also exhilarated

I felt my soul was taking me on a new adventure

Something within was chanting

Trust the ride, trust the ride

It will teach you

If you trust the ride

And so I did

So proud, at first it was easy

And I, determined

So taken by this deep voice inside

Two decades, I stayed on

The roller coaster of my soul

Taking only capsules, and tinctures

But never pills

Again, remaining loyal, and steadfast

To my soul commitment

Until now

And isn’t it ironic

That I am once more

On the edge

Once more just crossing the threshold

From woman…to crone

Isn’t it ironic

That a nurse placed

White pills into my cup (now there’s no pink ones)

And is suggesting

A return

To my blue and beige friends

Thresholds

Crossings

Bleedings

Initiations

Pain

Dragging me into the pharmaceutical dance

Once again

Menarche and menopause, mirroring

Will these pills save me?

Or or will they destroy

The soul I’ve worked so hard to let lead?

I don’t know

But just like that fourteen year old

Who had nothing else to live for

I’m swallowing, and hoping

Again

This Is My Grieving

.
This is my grieving
This is my grieving
This
Is my grieving
.
I grieve not having a loving mother
who I could be held by
Who I could’ve learned to cook and nourish and love my body from
Who I could’ve had fun with fashion and learned about deep mysteries with
.
I grieve for not feeling safe for so many nights
And for having to weather her rage
I grieve for lost childhood joys
and for feeling crazy
about what the fuck was even real
.
I grieve for the years I lost
Spent in and out of psych hospitals
Because I knew no other way to deal
With what was happening at home
And inside my body
.
I grieve the absence of someone to talk to
About blood
And menopause
And pain
.
I grieve the absence
Of all the years
I had to be the grown-up
To take care of her
To tiptoe around her
To not be able to be
A child
.
I grieve for having no one to talk to
About intimacy
About sex
About love
.
I grieve for the sadness and madness of my mother, and hers

I grieve, also
For his absence
For the absence of getting to be held safely by a man
For the absence of feeling guidance when lost
For the absence of having someone to call
If I needed help
.
I grieve for the absence
Of a safe man
To be protected by him from danger
To be inspired by him to go after my dreams
To joke with
To get no-BS advice from
To ruffle my hair and call me “kiddo”
To learn how to be grounded when
Being near the intensity
Of pure masculine energy
.
Really
I’m sharing the grief of an orphan
Because my mother and father were not there
.
I raised myself in the woods
In front of the TV with ice cream
In treatment centers…
I starved my way there
To find the first time
I truly felt taken care of
Of course I will never feel ready
Of course I constantly need
This holding
It all runs
so deep
.
I grieve
For the emotionally and physically orphaned child within
and for the split I still feel
between my wise competent self and the
lost,
wandering,
confused,
blank,
overwhelmed
little girl
constantly
pulling
me
down

I grieve
For the absence of their arms to hold me
For their shoulder to cry on
While I go through this confusing, neverending
torture of pain

This is my grieving
This is my grieving
This
Is my grieving

Ready

Am I

Ready?

What does Ready mean, anyway?

No one ever told me

And

Have I learned anything

I didn’t already know?

The Central Self, she’s steady

But the little girl, she’s still shaking

And

Upon reflection,

The before and after hasn’t moved much

Am I Ready?

How will I maintain accountability?

How will I keep the Work a focus in my life?

Who are my people to lean on?

Who

Are

People

Lean

On?

Green flags, yellow flags, red flags

I don’t know how to answer these questions

Should I know

How to answer these questions?

Chanting, chanting

They’re all chanting

You’re ready!

You’re Ready!

But I cannot see

And my body hurts

And there is no warm hand to hold onto

And I cannot find my trust

That She will be there

To guide me in this darkness

The Central Self, she’s steady

But the little girl, she’s still shaking

Yearning for care, structure, guidance

This hunger forever

Am I Ready?

Am I

Ready?

Well

Here I go

Words of Wisdom



To be honest
At the moment
My mind is wiped clean
I know I've years of experience
Lifetimes even
But for whatever reason
I cannot retrieve

But, as always
Pen in hand, I will try
Somehow, the quill always reveals me

What do I wish I knew
Prior to starting the Work, again?
I wish I'd known (although I kind of did)
That I'd end up back here again
Facing the same demons
With a heavy disappointment in my heart

I wish I'd known
That once again
Eating enough and becoming...more
Wouldn't make this feeling go away

I wish I'd known
That my process would be a shitshow
And that it would take much heart
To keep going
Walking in this dark

Actually, all of this
I'm GLAD I didn't know
Otherwise, I would never even have started

Upon reflection
What I actually wish I'd known
Is that the Fullness wouldn't attack
As often or with terrible force
What I actually wish I'd known
Is how many special connections
And deep conversations
And laughter, connection at the table
I'd come to cherish
What I actually wish I'd known
Is how many small sparks of growth
I'd watch peek up out of the deep hollows
Mine, theirs
And how I'd come to love that ocean
After so many years of fear

I wish I would've known
That a small sliver of hope 
Would be found, but not until the end of my days 
And that I'd finally realize
The nature of my true, hard work
Unravelling it all after so many decades
Letting the old structures 
Slowly collapse
Letting people 
Hold me

Advice or guidance I have
For someone starting the journey?
Despite this hopeless fog
I'd say...

Keep going
I do not know how long the road will be
For you
Sometimes it is lengthy, like mine
But keep going
Take each day, each hour, each minute
One by one
Remember you are courageously unfolding
A deep and perhaps ancestral wounding
And 
That there is nothing wrong with you
That your body has shaken apart the life
That does not serve you
And brought you here
To find out how you want to really 
Be put together, and live
To help you find your voice
To help you see clearly
To help you stop the pattern
For yourself even if no one else
Will budge

I'd also say
Don't forget that no matter how alone you feel
There is always support around you
In the forest, go there
To the sea, gaze at its waves
In your dreams, ask the questions
In your vision, request the guides to help you
In your art, let it show you what's real

Keep going, I'd say
Despite the terror, the grief, the rage
Let the tears fall 
As you do this most sacred work
May you honor this crossroad
And the guides, with lamps
That surround you
Remembering there is nothing wrong with you
And that perhaps you, pattern-breaker, have been chosen
Out of the din
For a most sacred initiation


Ha! Well I hope that was helpful
And that out of this blank confusion
The pen provided some sort of balm
There be!
Me Words 
Of Wisdom

Act As If

They told me to

Act As If

To go through the process

With the scene already set

See what happens, they said

Instead of torturing yourself

Act As If

And let the healing

Unfold

They also said

Remembering isn’t required

And that, in fact, it can decimate those who are not ready

But here I am, risking it all

Trying to pry it all open

What do I remember?

I remember vampire games with the neighborhood boys

How good it felt, their teeth on my neck

I remember Dar, The Beastmaster

And how I wanted to be his

But how I also longed after

His curvy, voluptuous maiden

All these confusing thoughts and feelings

I remember

But I don’t remember my father, much

I remember his absence

And all the questions around it

I remember my mother’s mumbled curses against him

Not ever knowing why

I do remember him taking me to a birthday dinner

The creaky Cannery Row restaurant floor

Beneath my tiny feet

He was a strange, big mystery

And I think there was a limousine involved

I was only seven

Why did we need a limousine?

I think it was the same day

I remember the hushed words at the door

Opened just so I could see a sliver of him

But then somehow, being released to this adventure

Only him and I

Confused, but grateful

That was the one time I remember seeing him

After his leaving so many years ago

I remember my father, being gone again

Not until I was sixteen did he appear

Like an apparition

I remember him, and my grandfather

At the foot of my hospital bed

After the attempts

Their faces distant

But there

After that,

I don’t remember anything at all of those early years

As if a great eraser

Scoured my fragile mind

I don’t remember his presence

Or his violations

I only remember

His absence

I do remember

Her constant despair

Her daily extremist vacillations

Happy one moment

And the next, chanting die die die

Screaming how I should never have been born

Feeling her pain penetrating, unwanted

I remember her violations

Not through touch, but through psychic immersion

And the training of a confused little mind

When she said, smile plastered

No dear, everything is fine!

I remember

Her

And I remember

The way my first, how he held me with kind eyes

After I vomited all over his black leather

And I remember

The call to attend his sudden death

And I remember

Violent forced fingers

And passing out with swingers

And soulless ceiling stares

As I did my duty, medicated

I remember thinking

That’s just the way it is

But I don’t remember him

Until long, long after

Until I willingly hunted my father down

To know his eyes

To know the truth

I remember the look of shame on his face

And how he trembled when I hugged him

I remember the sly smile

Once the bond had been reforged

And a creepy feeling, it felt familiar

An older man, courting me

But there was no honest conversation

I remember, actually, barely any words at all

No, I don’t remember anything else

Except visions, dreams, and murky maybes

A baby cradle on a table

The ocean view outside the window

Her mouth filled…

A healer’s vision, adamant

And me denying, calling it projection…

Dreams of headless old men

Approaching, the terror

All these years later

I do remember

A real-life report that came my way

That my father’s father had crossed the line

Maybe you, she had said

Again, in that hushed tone

It was certain with the cousin

Who had hanged herself some years ago

So, I no, don’t remember

But what I am trying to piece together

Is why I throw up

Or weep terribly

Or leave my body

Whenever the energy comes near

Or why I have just decided to leave behind

The whole fucking thing forever

Dumbfounded why it’s such a draw

I can’t remember, but I’m trying to figure out

Why my whole life I’ve felt confused, blank, empty

And why I’m constantly trying to keep myself

From dying

Lately

I’ve begun to notice

The trail of synchronicities

Weaving in and out of my life

Relentless encounters

Torturous and unexplained symptoms

Bringing me to my knees in despair

All of it has ushered me to this point

Wondering

Wondering if this is the next layer

And if I should just Act As If

To go through the process

With the scene already set

To see what happens

Instead of torturing myself

To Act As If

And let the healing

Unfold

Ode To Lifelong Friends

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Oh, beloved Calories

Oh, beloved Measuring cups

Oh, beloved Food scales

What would I do

Without you?

I remember meeting

That very first day

Presented in community

Accepted

Thy sacred tools

You, in my hands, initiated

You who enabled me

To first feel a sense of control

To first feel a sense that I could change things

When everything was dark and chaos

You who enabled me

To magically transform

To show up out of hiding

To gain attention, out of invisibility

To set limits, boundaries

To scream NO

You who enabled me

To, at first, “get healthy”

To gain pride

To do what was “right”

Oh Calories

Oh Measuring cups

Oh Food scales

You’ve been with me so long

How predictable!

How reliable!

How steadfast!

It was you and me

Against the screaming, suicidal

Hopeless world

But

After we’d got to know each other

Well, things became complicated

I didn’t mean for it to happen

But at some point

You became

A weapon

I saw how I could use you

To destroy things

To manipulate nature

I saw how I could use you

To cause fear in their eyes

To cause fear in her eyes

Where previously, she….was the wielder of terror

Where previously, she…was the sick one

Where previously, I…was her captive

Oh Calories

Oh Measuring cups

Oh Food scales

I used you

I abused you

I took your unassuming simple nature

And twisted it, for survival

At some point,

Just when I thought I had you and I

All figured out

Well, the games turned on me

I could barely hold the sword

Emaciated limbs attempting

But I could still swing it

And the sword was slashing only my flesh

Whittling me down to zero, nothing

Ironically, you who promised health, notoriety

Was what I used to disappear

Was what I used

To die

But also oddly,

At the same time

It was my twisted use of you

That led to the death that allowed me to escape her

To find myself

Over and over again

Safe behind those white walls

Safe from her

Safe from myself

Safe from our strange and dysfunctional relationship

It got me

To safety

Over the course of life

Calories

Measuring cups

Food scales

We’ve gone in and out of balance

For years, I used you to stay well

And at other times, those long harrowing highways

I used you to whittle myself away

But always

You were there for me

Impartial, waiting,

Looking at me with a question in your eyes

You

Were always there

Not until recently

Did I begin to realize

Oh Calories

Oh Measuring cups

Oh Food Scales

That your structure

Your reliability

Your dependability

Ingrained in my synapses

Was a scaffolding

Against deeper, darker terrors

That these monotonous, laborious routines

I used you for

I realize that they keep me safe

From something I am only just beginning

To remember

Something more monstrous

Than the hateful, decimating words

Than the constant lethal psychic soup

Of her despairing

You, I’m beginning to realize

Have kept me from this terrifying unknown

Lodged in my body, now peeling

Not only have you kept me from disappearing

…Or becoming too much

But also that you shield me from feeling that night

In my throat

In my gut

In parts I can’t even recall

That horrible Fullness

My use of you, I’m beginning to realize

Has held me together

Until I could face this

Now I’m trying

For the millionth time

But never…from this perspective

Realizing we may need to part

But doing it slowly

Each time

I sit at the table without you

Yearning, grieving

I feel this unspeakable wound

Not sure if from lineages before

Or from the betrayal of my own innocent flesh

Knowing it doesn’t really matter

I think of all of this

As I sit here

And I thank you

For all of those years

I’m still pretty bewildered

At the direction our relating should take

Whether letting go of you will save me

Or kill me

Whether distance from you

Will unleash the ancestral thanatos

Or whether I can surpass this embedded deathly urge

And find my own

Will we eventually part ways?

Completely, fully, undeniably?

And if so, I am dumbfounded at how that will occur

Being away from you

I wish I knew that the outcome would be freedom

Oh Calories

Oh Measuring cups

Oh Food scales

Counting, checking, counting

My sacred scaffolding, in a time with no other

You, in my shaking hands

Steadying me

I thank you

I honor you

An ode to you

Calories

Measuring Cups

Food Scales

May I one day

Not depend on you out of fear

But use you, with whimsy

To create magic, and beauty

In the hearth

An ode to lifelong friends