Category: Finding Balance

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.

Chapter Thirty-Four – The Queen of Wands

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

Lisa knew how much light she gave out into the world. She was utterly and completely aware that people fell under her spell. Man, woman, it didn’t matter. She always had a score of people willing to help her so that they could benefit from the brilliance that she gave out.

Which is probably why she was determined to help me.

What I’d come to realize was that light was a transactional thing with Lisa. If she loved you, you were golden and got her at full wattage. If she liked you, a little less so, but she still sparkled. If she didn’t like you, there was usually a reason, and you were shunned from her light. This wasn’t done willy nilly. She didn’t withhold her light to be cruel; I wasn’t sure she had it in her to do that. As I got to know her, I watched how she would interact with those around her. She looked like the sun surrounded by the orbit of people around her.

I didn’t know how to feel within the orbit around her. I was just grateful that I had found safety with someone that felt like my best friend and my mom at the same time. She would encourage me I little ways, trying to bring me out of my shell. I had retreated father and father into myself, and Lisa did what she could to bring me out of it. The talent competition was a perfect example of this

“I know you can do funny well, try and be funny. A serious monologue isn’t going to win the competition. Do it from the point of being Pagan and your parents don’t understand what you’re doing.”

“Yeah, like my parents asked me if I had gotten into sacrificing or blood in my rituals when I told them I was Pagan.”

Lisa let out a snort. “Oh, my Goddess, you have to lead with something like that. It’s perfect.”

She gently pulled me out of myself so that I could begin to see who I was. I performed bits and pieces of my monologue as I wrote, and she helped me to put the pieces in order. She was creative in her own ways, but she helped to make my creativity bloom into something real and tangible that I could feel taking hold of me. She was the spark that helped my flame to grow. As I continued to write on whatever I could find, random receipts, ruled paper pulled from a notebook, it felt as if she were my muse.

The idea of doing a monologue in front of a group of people was like any other day at the theatre. Out of all the areas of the dramatic arts that I had tried (acting, writing, filming, dramatic roles, etc.) the one that I loved the most was improv. I loved that a whole world could open up out of a handful of words and the mere suggestion of a place.

I loved that in drama, I would normally be able to lose myself in the life of someone else. The fact that this would be the first time talking about something that had actually happened was kind of a revelation for me. I didn’t like talking about myself. It was one of the ways that I was able to help others. I listened to other people and offered help when I could so that we didn’t have to talk about who I was.

I kept the details light, but the fact that there was even one iota of truth to the monologue was such a big step for me. I was too young to realize that every writer puts a part of themselves into everything that they write. I worried that no one would want to hear what I had written because of that truth. It was so long since I’d been on stage that I wasn’t sure I’d be any good. I knew that it wasn’t enough just to say the words, I had to be good. I practiced my delivery, and I knew that if I fucked up, I would just ad lib until I got back on track. I got the monologue down to two and a half minutes. I told myself that if I fucked up, I would just improv it. That’s all there was to it.

The night before the show, Lisa and I were out on the porch smoking a cigarette. I watched the curls of smoke against the dark blue background of the sky at dusk. I looked up to the stars that were shining above me and knew that if I wished hard enough, something great would happen.

Lisa made me feel like it was okay to make a wish for something better and believe in the possibilities. She let me know that it was okay to trust the Gods and that they would be there to help me along on the way as long as I had faith in myself.

She let me know that it was okay to be me.

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Princess of Wands

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

Lisa’s stepson Paul was in a relationship with a woman named Karla. She was far too thin, more skeleton than woman. It’s what I noticed about her first. The other thing I noticed was that she had a lazy eye like I did. It was as if I had found one of the others marked by spirit.

I often thought that people with lazy or wandering eyes could see into two worlds at once and that was certainly true of Karla. She was completely free. I often wonder where she came from. It was as if a spark floated down through the air and when it hit the ground, Karla came to be. She had that air of fleeting movement about her even when she was standing still.

She wore her black hair like a curtain that her eyes just peeked out from behind and when she saw me, her eyes brightened. The first time I met her, Karla caught me off guard when she came right up to me and wrapped her arms around me in a surprisingly strong hug filled with warmth. When broke the embrace, she looked at me with green eyes that shone like amber flecked with light.

“Well, all right then!” She gave me another quick squeeze. “Don’t you feel like you’re just waking up?”

“I woke up a few hours ago.”

“No, I mean in here.” She lightly tapped my chest. “In here. I feel like I’ve just started coming into myself, you know?” Karla looked at me and it was as if I could feel her reaching into me through my eyes so that she could know all of me. “You’ve been on your journey a lot longer than me, haven’t you?” She gave me a quizzical look. “Your spirit has been travelling for a long time; a lot longer than you know.”

She trailed out onto the front porch and lit up a duMaurier, lighting another and handing it to me. “Have you known Lisa for long?”

“I just met her a few months ago,” I told her.

“But it feels like you’ve known her forever, right?” She nodded as if I had already spoken. “Just like you. I feel like we’re kindred spirits.”

“You just met me.” I say, wishing I could the words back already. I was trying not to have my guard up so much. I didn’t need to protect myself from everyone. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You don’t have anything to be sorry about. But don’t you feel it?” She nods her head again, looking at me hopefully.

To my surprise, I did. There was just a lightness about her that wanted to pull me in and the scent around her was the loveliest incense, like sage and cedarwood. She smelled of smoke and flowers. I nodded back at her and her scent somehow grew larger and reminded me of the smell of campfire. She brought joy and innoncence with her; I could see and sense that right away.

I smiled despite my want to keep myself guarded against people. It was my natural inclination after everything I had been through and yet, with Karla, there was kinship right away. I was reminded of Anne of Green Gables and her friend Diana Bishop. It just felt like it was meant to be, with no pretense or build up. Karla was giving me the opportunity to see the world in a different way by engaging with it rather than hiding from it.

I wanted to take the plunge.

Lisa was all about taking life by it’s balls and either cutting them off and using them in a spell or squeezing them until they turned blue and she got her way. That was her power. Karla’s power was different.

She helped you to see the best of yourself, despite what had happened to you. Even though I carried shadows within, her brightness helped me to see not only through but past them. Karla made me thirsty for the future in front of me.

I had never thought of my future before, only the present moment that I found myself in, the minute, hour the day. I never thought of tomorrow. Karla’s power helped me to finally believe that a tomorrow was possible for me.