Category: Finding Balance

Chapter Forty-Four – 9 of Cups

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

I looked around myself a lot.

I was always trying to find my place in the world. I finally felt like I had a family of a sort made up of both people I knew from the streets and the Pagan community. My life had gone from having no one to being abundant with people I considered family of the heart.

I was so used to hiding who I was. However,  since I had ended up on the streets, I had met so many people that welcomed me as one of their own. I still found it odd to realize that I knew so many people that wanted to know me. I carried a lot of self-hatred, both from my childhood and there was a small part of me that wondered who would want me?

It turned out that a lot of people did. Sophie had weekly dinners for a bunch of her Pagan friends. We would bring ourselves and meet at her house in Lebreton Flats. It would be a gathering of like minds and kindred spirits. The people gathered in Sophie’s living room changed every once in a while, depending on who was dating who, or who was visiting from out of town. but the core group of us stayed the same. There was Sophie and her boyfriend James, Lisa, Jen. The people I knew were joined by Franny and her boyfriend Michel with Janice and Kyle to round out the group. I was a little shy around the people I didn’t know, but they soon became fast friends.

We would eat potluck style with each of us bringing something different the dinner and we would sit and play games or delve into magic by creating spells or doing rituals. It was the magic that brought us together on a deeper level as you must open yourself up wide to be ready for magic and it brings people closer together. I often wondered if the thrum of magic was something visible, the air would be filled with rainbows and shadow.

I went through a lot of different emotions when I was among these people. There was sadness if someone was going through something difficult and we had to band together to lift the other persons spirits, especially if it meant that one of our group would be leaving us. The people changed over time, but the core group of us remained the same.

I was reminded of the people that I had met on the streets and the kind of family those people had been to me. Looking around the room at these people, I could not deny that I had been lucky enough to find another kind of family and I knew how lucky I was to have these kinds of people around me.

Sitting in amongst a gathering of Druids, Wiccans, Pagans and otherwise, I thought about how my street family may have given me back my body and my Pagan family had given me back my spirit. These people hadn’t known me but had accepted me because they saw my spirit and accepted me completely. The streets may have taught me to protect myself, but this world taught me to be free. It was a juxtaposition that I was still having trouble accepting. However, whenever I felt like I had lost my place, all I had to do was come home to myself and the emotions that my body held.

The people around me were full of emotions and over time, the people that shared in food, joy, sorrow and laughter showed me that I didn’t have to be emotionally cut off. There didn’t need to keep a wall between myself and the emotions that I had been taught to bury down deep within me. I knew that if I didn’t let them out, they would rupture within me. The Pagan community were full of light. There were a few bad apples, you’ll find that in any bunch of people, but everyone was completely open with their emotions. They showed me that while I had to practice ward and sigils to keep myself safe, I was free to share my true emotions with them.

It was an odd experience. I was so closed off from people before and I was being asked to be open. My life was abundant with the people that surrounded me, and the core group of people had my back. I knew that I could be completely myself with these people and it was frightening and wonderful all at once.

I had spent my entire life so far having to keep so much of myself hidden from my parents, family and friends. I couldn’t talk about my disability, the abusive home that I had survived, my sexuality or my gender. There was much that was off limits for me to be able to form lasting relationships with other people and it was exhausting.

Looking around at the people that surrounded me, at Sophie, Lisa, Jen, James, Franny, Michel with Janice and Kyle. We were an odd sort of family, but we were a chosen family together. My life was abundant with so many emotions and that was okay. I didn’t have to hide anything anymore.

Especially from myself. I didn’t want to hold on to so many unnamed emotions. When I got back to Lisa’s that evening, I filled a cup full of water and then wrote the emotions I had been holding onto for so long. I wrote quickly listing off everything I could think of. I wrote about my anger, my self-hatred, my fear of being who I truly was and being completely myself. I filled both sided of the small piece of paper and dunked it in the water.

I watched as the water smudged the ink and softened the paper, making if soft. I swirled the paper until all of it was completely wet. I took the paper out of the water and began to shred  the paper into lots of little pieces until the cup of water looked as if it held wet snow. If I looked into the cup, I could see the letters that had been the words of my emotions, their ink fading even as I looked at them as the water continued to soak into the paper.

Standing, I walked off the back porch towards the edge of the garden. I poured the entire cup of water and paper into the dirt. I watched as the paper settled into the soil and if I tried to spell words with the letters I could see. With each word I spelled, I was making that negative emotion into something else.

I was letting go of the past and finally looking towards the future instead of merely living day by day. I wanted to dream of something more.

Looking down at the letters in the dirt in front of me, I tried to find a word so that I could divine what awaited me in the future.

Chapter Thirty-Nine – 4 of Cups

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

I found it difficult to sleep that night.

The pallet of foam beneath me felt like it was a cloud it felt as if I were moving all night, trying to find my way through the caves and caverns of dreamland. I felt like there was too much light within me. I wasn’t able to close my eyes against its brilliance.

There was a riot of emotions running through me and it almost felt like too much, the pull of the water within me too strong. I wasn’t used to feeling so much about someone. Even though I physically wanted someone, my emotions had long been turned off when it came to love. I dreamed about love, about the possibility of love and I’d wanted it for so long. It was impossible to think that I loved Francis already, but I knew the possibility of love was there, if I wanted it.

I twisted and turned and eventually let myself not sleep but dream. The only problem with dreams is that they don’t always go where you want them to go. In my half-sleep state, I dreamed of every boyfriend I’d ever had. By the time I could see the sun rising through Lisa’s bedroom window, I half convinced myself that the whole thing had been some kind of practical joke that had been played on me.

I just wasn’t convinced that any man could want me that much. My mind took me in all sorts of directions from wonder (I can’t believe that this happened to me!), to fear (what if he didn’t mean anything he had said?) and disbelief (he didn’t want me and there was no real connection). I had a world of voices in my head telling me that I wasn’t good enough for Francis. It was easy to ignore what they were saying if it was just one voice, but a whole chorus of them had almost convinced me that nothing had really happened by the time I got up and went to Lisa’s kitchen to start making a pot of coffee.

As I stood there waiting for the pot to brew, I gave my head a good shake. The chorus gave a loud scream in my mind as they scattered. It would be a while until they regrouped. I grabbed myself a mug, poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table so that I could light a cigarette. The smoke helped to clear my mind, too.

I didn’t know what to do, when I was going to speak to him or what would happen. I thought of taking up my tarot deck and seeing what the cards hat to say, but for once I didn’t want to know. I really just wanted to enjoy what I had experienced last night before my mind returned to push it away again. I wanted to remember the joy of it and how for one night I had felt special.

Lisa’s roommate Frank walked into the kitchen. “I thought I smelled coffee. Thanks man,” he said. Pouring himself a cup of black coffee, he sat at the table and lit a cigarette. “I know that look.”

“What look?” I asked.

“The look of someone who has a good thing and is trying to convince himself that it’s not worth it, he’ll just get hurt.”

I sat down and took hold of my own coffee. “Is it that obvious?”

Letting out a laugh, he gave me a knowing look. “Trust me, I’ve worn that look in the mirror lots of times.” Frank looked lost and his eyes. When he looked at me again, he seemed both in the room with me and lost in memories. “Don’t do what I do. I always run and convince myself that it would turn out horribly.” He let out a snort of laughter that loosened the lost look in his eyes. “It is horrible. I’m always alone.” He puffed out a plume of smoke. “I saw that kiss, Jamieson. I wouldn’t be walking away from that.”

My pager let out a beep. Looking down at the display, I saw it was Francis’ number. I checked my pocket for a quarter, grabbed my bag and made my way to Bronson and found a payphone there. I took a deep breath and said a prayer to the gods that this call would go well and that maybe, just maybe, Francis had been thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him. I dialed his number and Francis picked up after the first ring.

“Hello!”

Even his voice over the phone made my body feel warm. “Hi!” I said. I wasn’t thinking about trying to sound cool and composed. I closed my eyes cringing in case he said there was a mistake and that there was no way he could ever be with me.

“I’ve been thinking about you non-stop. Your ears must have been on fire this morning.”

“More like my whole body,” I said without thinking.

“Mine, too.” He said. “It’s like you’ve woken me up from a long sleep. Are you doing anything right now?”

“No,” I said. “I’m not busy with anything.”

“Can you come and see me? I would offer to pick you up, but I don’t have a car.”

“It’s okay, I have bus fare.”

“Okay, take the 85.” He said. He gave me the address and I knew where it was along the bus route. “I’ll come and meet you at the bus stop and we can walk back to my place. Would that be okay? I really want to talk to you some more. It seemed like we didn’t get enough time last night.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Good, that’s good.” He sounded as nervous as I felt.

“There’s an 85 coming down the street now. I can hop on and be there in about fifteen.”

“That’s amazing. I’ll see you soon, Jamieson.”

I hung up the phone and ran across the street so that I could catch the bus. I hopped on and thought about what I would find when I got there. Would Francis capture my attention just as much as he had when we had met?

I was betting on yes. I sat there with my bag on my lap, too nervous and keyed up to read. I just sat waiting for my stop, wondering what awaited me on this path that I had chosen not to turn away from.

Chapter Thirty-Eight – 3 of Cups

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

That night, I walked home with Fox and Lisa.

“You weren’t supposed to kiss him!” she said. She sounded like she was admonishing me, but there was laughter in her voice.

“Well, what was I supposed to do?”

“He was supposed to help you heal, talk about your feelings about what happened.”

Fox let out a chuckle. “It looked like there was lots of healing going on there, but I could have misread the situation.” He nudged gently in the ribs. “But I don’t think I did.”

I blushed and wondered if my friends could see it in the darkness as my cheeks burned so brightly. “You’re not wrong.” I said, grinning.

“I didn’t think so. I’m happy for you, man.”

“Thanks,”

“I still think you should have talked first before you started making out.”

“We did talk first,” I told her. “We talked all night.”

“Yeah, but you did you talk about what you’d been through?”

I sighed inwardly. I didn’t want to talk about this in front of Fox. I know that he would accept whatever I had to tell him, but right now, only Lisa, Francis and I knew what I had been through. I didn’t want to bother another person with the sadness that I carried. “Can we just focus on joy this evening? I had a great night, I won the contest, and I don’t feel any shadows around me for one. Can we talk later and just live the joy?” I was far too elated to let her slip up bother me. I had finally kissed a man that found me attractive and wanted to get to know me instead of viewing me as an inconvenience or a freak. “I want to celebrate.” I said.

Lisa stopped and lit three cigarettes, passing one to Fox and one to me. “Can we talk about how you two were eye-fucking each other the entire time? You could cut the sexual tension with a knife around you two.”

Both Fox and I laughed, and it was so wonderful to laugh about something so wonderful. “True, I thought you guys were totally going to dry hump right there.”

“Stop it!” I said, the laughter in me increasing. I was giddy with the sheer joy of it.

“Why would we stop?” Lisa said, grinning. “You wanted a celebration and the sheer act of laughing means that this is a celebration.” She took a mickey of booze out of her purse and showed it to us. “Come on boys, the night is young.”

I led us down a path where the trees opened up above us and we could see the night sky. I could see a few stars shining and I felt like a wish I hadn’t even made had been answered. I watched as the cigarette smoke mingled with the stars, making them look like they were showing themselves through clouds. I wondered if the stars were different than the night before; I certainly felt different.

“You’re glowing, dude.” Fox said.

I blushed even deeper than last time. “Thanks.”

“Just be careful,” Lisa said. “I’ve known Francis a long time and he’s always been alone. He’s never even been attracted to anyone as far as I know.”

“Till me,”

“Till you.” She threw her cigarette butt to the ground and stepped on it to put it out, sending a shower of sparks that bloomed out over the pavement. “I just don’t want you getting hurt. I’m only saying this as your friend.”

“I know.” And I did. She was a mother to all of us, really. She couldn’t help but worry about me. Lisa knew about most of the ways I’d been hurt. She said that’s what made me such a good warrior.

“Remember, Jamie. Warriors don’t feel pain. They take it in and use it to move forward.”

“I know,” I said again.

There was a moment of silence between the three of us. There were so many emotions running through me that it was all I could do just to let myself feel them. The one that came to the surface of the water the most was joy, an absolute, all-consuming joy. It felt good and I felt amazing. I hadn’t

“Dude, can we talk about the kiss?” Fox said. “That kiss was epic!”

I let out a laugh and marvelled at how good a kiss could make me feel. When I looked at Lisa and Fox, we all started laughing. Lisa surprised both Fox and I by letting out a warrior cry that was echoed the joy I felt. She started running as if she wanted to chase down the moon and Fox and I ran after her.

I put my arms out as I ran and, for a moment, I could have sworn that I was flying.

Chapter Thirty-Six – Ace of Cups

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir

I wanted to open my heart to him right away.

I had never felt so seen. We had barely spoken to each other, but I knew he felt this way, too. In that moment, I wondered if there was something about the trauma that we had both experienced and if so, that was okay. Like recognized like.

At the same time, I knew that things were shifting. We both wanted to know each other. I thought that in some way, we could heal each other. That was at the back of my head when I looked at him, but at the forefront there was this surety that this was right, that we were right for each other. It wasn’t even a question, it simply was. He got me another drink as we watched people regale us with their talents. One man did stand up comedy and garnered a few chuckles. Another woman, Elena, she sang with her guitar. Her song was about a bird that had flown up to the heavens only to find out that their place was here on the ground.

Then it was my turn. I gave Francis a nervous shrug. “You’ll do fine,” he said. He took my hand in his and squeezed it for a brief moment as it to propel me on. I knew that I could do this but having him believe in my helped a lot. It had taken so much to find myself within the words written on paper, it was another thing to speak them out loud.

“Thank you,” I said into he microphone.

I looked around at everyone and experienced the slightest moment of panic, but then I felt Francis’ gaze on the back of my head and it was a comfort to know that he was watching. “I came out to my parents a few months ago,” I said. “When I told them that I was Pagan, they were so shocked. After them calmed down, my mother patted my hand and told me: ‘Well it’s okay if you need to sacrifice anything darling. Just do it on Sundays because the maid comes on Mondays, that’s a dear.’”

There was an eruption around the room, and I took comfort from the joy that came from that laughter. I was able to look at everyone and not from the notes that were in my hand. I was actually smiling.  “My father was really confused about it at all at first. Finally, he nodded, giving his approval. He was like ‘Well, son, if you need to play light as a feather, thick as a board, that’s okay with me. I can tell you a thing or two about different kinds of wood.’”

The crowd roared and I felt elated that something I had written had been able to evoke such a response. I let out a snort of laugher that reverberated around the room because I still had my mouth near the microphone and the laughter increased. I thought it was now or never, I only had the one joke left and I hope that it would go over as well as the snort.

“I told some more of other friends that I was Pagan and I had one of them make a disgusted face. ‘Look,’ they said. ‘I know that a lot of you like to be naked all the time and I have no judgement on that. But all I ask is that you wear clothes at dinner, okay?’”

I marveled that this crowd of people were looking at me with joy and light and not looking at me like I was someone to be pitied or looked at as a project to fix. I had often been made to feel like Quasimodo because of my disability and sexuality. But at that moment, I didn’t feel like that at all and the feeling that was running through me was just so fucking euphoric. At that moment, I felt like I was beyond my body and my spirit was full.

I did a little bow and went back to Francis, who handed me a new beer. “A herald to the victor,” he told me and the image of the Six of Wands slipped into my head. I had always been the one fighting for everything in my life. It felt wonderful to be considered a victor.

I accepted the beer, and we brought our bottles together. The resounding clink was like a bell that rang through the air between us. He looked at me and gave me a smile that just seemed to make everything in my world fall into place. I had no idea of the journey that the bell would signal for either of us, but I was here for the ride.

Chapter Thirty-Five – The King of Wands

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Personal Growth

The List Serve fundraising party was in full swing when we arrived.

I was surprised by how many people were there. Almost all of them were Pagan, too. I couldn’t help but notice how openly they wore their spiritualities. I had always been taught that my spiritual beliefs, which ran contrary to Christianity, were something to be ashamed of. I had kept my love of tarot or anything that went against the word of God a secret. It felt like hiding a large part of who I was in the shadows, yet one more thing I had to hide in order to fit in.

Here, there was no judgement. There was only a feeling of joy, clear and present. The air in the room was filled with a subtle hum and the light was bright and clear. I knew that I was entering a room where the majority of people here believed in magic, and that brought me so much comfort and joy. I felt like I was entering a part of my life that I was always going to find, even though I didn’t know I was looking for it. The joy in that moment made the walls that I always kept up around myself dissolve. I was safe here. I was nervous entering a gathering where I didn’t know who the people were, but my spirit recognized them as friends. That had never happened before.

Lisa brought me around to the people she knew and that included most of the room. I could tell that these people genuinely loved her. I was worried the first time that Lisa brought me up to someone she knew and introduced me, but by the third group of people, that nervousness was gone. I knew that it would take me some time to remember everyone’s names, but I knew that each one of them were exactly who they were. The warmth they gave me was honest and true and I knew that I had never been hugged so many times in the space of half an hour.

We headed to the bar and I got myself a beer. Lisa put her arm around my waist and pulled me over to a man that was standing at the bar talking to someone else, a woman with curly auburn hair. She was smoking a cigarette, and I remember the smoke seeming to curl around the sound of her laughter. Lisa tapped on the man’s shoulder, he turned and I felt my world stop for a moment that seemed like forever and an instant of time all at once.

He had dark brown hir that fell to his shoulders. It was spiky and curly all at once. He had blue eyes that looked like the ocean and lips that were drawn out in a smile. I felt self-conscious and wanted to be seen and hide all at the same time. I walked closer to him and the woman he had been speaking to raised her eyebrows at me as if to see what I was made of, and then she gave me a welcoming smile free of malice.

“This is my friend Francis, you know the one that I was telling you about?” Lisa said.

“This is my roommate and friend Stacey,” Francis said.

“Who is going to make herself scarce. Nice to meet you, Jamieson. I’ve heard nothing but good things about you.” She hooked her arm through one of Lisa’s. “Come on, you can buy me a glass of wine.”

I watched Lisa and Stacey walk away and felt a moment of panic mixed with the heady thrill of knowing. This moment was right, I would be okay. I had to trust in spirit. I moved closer to Francis and felt warmth, smelled something soft. Francis smiled at me and I noticed one of his eyetooth was crooked.

“Lisa tells me that you’re quite the writer.”

I felt the blush of warmth inside me and hoped that it didn’t show on my cheeks. “I write a little.” I said.

“More than just a little, I’m told. She’s showed me one of your poems.”

I was aghast to have been so laid bare before this man that I hardly knew but wanted to know so much more of. I reminded myself not to lay myself completely bare in front of him, but I thought that he could see me anyways, the true me that only a few people in my life could see. Francis could see that and he was still smiling. “She shouldn’t have done that.” I said.

“Nonsense,” he said, pulling the paper from his pocket. “It told me so much about you. I’ve read it quite a few times.”

He unfolded the paper, and I could see that it had been folded and unfolded countless times. The folds were starting to wear the paper clean through. I touched my poem, marvelling at the fact that someone had actually read it that many times.

I watched as he folded the poem again and then placed it back in his pocket. I followed the motion of his arm and watched as his shoulders relaxed. Though he was dressed in dark colours, he gave off a light and a warmth that I could feel from where I stood. I just wanted to bask in that fire he gave out. His presence was beyond his body and I could feel him even though we weren’t touching.

I knew that Lisa meant for the two of to talk about being raped in our pasts, that she felt that it would offer some kind of healing. I just didn’t want to talk about any of that. I wanted to learn all I could about Francis. It seemed like he had the same idea.

“Lisa says that you were hurt, too. That you carry a lot of scars. I do, too. I’m sorry that anyone ever hurt you.” He reached out and gently took my right hand, rubbed the pad of his thumb across my knuckles. “We can talk about that later, but tonight I just want to get to know you. Would that be okay?”

I nodded and felt the warmth emanating from him increase. “That would be lovely,” I said and when the blush came, filling up my cheeks with colour, I didn’t do anything to hide my face.