Tag: Emotion

Chapter Forty-Seven – Princess of Cups

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

I still found myself at a kind of crossroads. I knew that there was a change of some sort coming and I didn’t know what to do.

I felt like I was so many parts of myself and still had to find a way to put myself back together. I had my life on before I ended up on the streets and the life after. I found it difficult to recognize where one part of me ended and where the other part began. When I looked within myself, I could see the sea and trace my path through the waters, but I wondered what I had given up getting here.

I found myself wandering back downtown and saw my street family just where they had always been. I saw Angel drawing on the pavement of the square and she looked up at me when my shadow fell across her drawing. Her face immediately broke into a wide smile and she leaped up to hug me. Her warmth helped pull me out of the water within.

“How are you?” She looked me up and down. “You look lost. Come and sit, write something to go with this piece.”

Pointing at her chalk drawing, I saw a woman that was looking out from behind a forest of trees, a winding river blocking her path forward. “It’s beautiful,” I said.

“Thanks, but your words would help make it shine a bit brighter.”

She handed me a piece of white chalk and I couldn’t resist the chance to write. Taking the chalk from her, I sat beside her drawing and looked at the woman. She seemed to be confronting the water in front of her. She didn’t look at it with hatred for blocking her path, but instead her stare showed awe.

“She’s looking to where the water goes,” Angel said. “Much like you did.”

I let out a laugh. “I didn’t follow a path of water though.”

Shaking her head, Angel gave me a smile. “You did though. You followed your own path to where you are now. We’re all made of water and stardust, so you were just following the path that was already within you.”

“I’m still homeless.” I told her. “I haven’t accomplished anything.”

She stopped drawing and laid a hand on my arm. Her touch pulled me away from myself and when I looked at her, I could see only warmth in her face. “Of course you have. You got out of here. You chose that for yourself the moment you walked away.”

“I walked away from you; from everyone I know.”

“Only because you were strong enough to choose a different path. You knew that you wanted more than this. You inspired me. I still come out here to do my work, but I got myself a small apartment. You can come by after we’re done and check it out. It’s really only two rooms and a bathroom, but it’s mine. You don’t know how much of a difference you make in other people’s lives, Jamieson. You’re just holding on to everything so tightly.”

She motioned at the chalk drawing of the woman standing in front of the river. “Do you think that woman will try to hold on to the water?”

“That’s impossible, no one can hold on to the water except when it’s frozen.”

“Right, so why are you trying to hold onto it?”

“I’m not trying to.”

“Aren’t you though? You just told me that you left behind everyone you knew. You didn’t, you carry us in here.” She touched my chest where my heart was beating. “You have to let the flow of your life take you where it needs to take you. You can’t lament what you’ve already lived.”

She did one final sweep of green with her chalk, giving life to the water that ran in front of the woman. “Be like this woman. You need to honour the flow of water and where it will take you. You didn’t leave anything behind, Jamieson. You’re only just beginning to discover who you are.”

I looked down at the drawing of the woman and I swore I could hear the water as it flowed in front of her. I could hear the words that she wanted to say, and I wrote them beside the drawing, letting the words flow from me, not holding anything back. After the poem was written, I sat back and reflected on what I had just written, all about the feel of the water as it moved past my skin, taking me on a journey that I was brave enough to take.

I realized that I had been trying to remain still when the water had been trying to pull me in a new direction. I had to embrace what the world had in store for me and rather than believe that this was all I would amount to, I had to let the water give me counsel.

I embraced Angel in a hug. “Thank you. How did you get so wise?”

“You should know as well as I do that any kind of creative drive, whether it be art or writing, helps you to see into other worlds. I spend a lot of my time in those other worlds and so do you. You just need to work on pulling yourself out so that you can engage with the life you’re leading.”

When I closed my eyes, I could feel the pull of the wind and could hear the sounds of water as it sluiced around me. I let the water pull me where it needed to and I made the decision to go with it willingly instead of fighting where it wanted me to go. Angel put her arms around me in a hug and we walked onward to her new apartment, the sound of water still loud in my ears.

Chapter Forty-Two – 7 of Cups

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Memoir, Personal Growth, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

Francis and I were at a Pagan brunch when the first seeds of doubt began to find their way into our relationship.

Fox was sitting across from us at our table and there were plates of eggs, toast and bacon in front of us. I was telling Fox about a ceremony that Francis and I had taken part in the other night. I had stood for Air and Francis had stood for Fire as we made the four corners with a small group of other Pagans. A woman we both knew named Anna had wanted to perform a rite for herself and had asked a few of her friends to take part. It had been a wonderful experience performing magic with Francis and I was still elated by the whole experience.

“The room hummed with magic,” I told Fox. Beside me, Francis took my hand and gave it a squeeze. He had felt the magic, too and we had talked about it afterwards.

“Man, Francis. You lucked out with Jamieson, and you really robbed the cradle!” he said with a loud laugh.

Beside me, I could feel Francis freeze and then he removed his hand from mine. Beside Fox, Lisa gave him an angry frown and smacked his shoulder.

“What? What did I say?”

“You’re just fucking clueless, that’s all.” She said. Her tone was sweet, but her eyes were like steel daggers.

Francis chuckled beside me, but there was no humour in it. He waved a hand at Fox, but I saw the shape of a gesture in that wave. Francis’ middle finger was clear in the air in between all four of us before the rest of his fingers popped into view. “It’s alright,” he said. “It’s all right,” he said again. I could tell from the tone of Francis’ voice that it wasn’t alright. There was a grim set to his mouth that I hadn’t seen before. Whenever he looked at me, he was smiling.

After brunch, we took the bus back to his place. We barely spoke on the bus. Our relationship was normally full of conversation. We talked about everything, and Francis never put me down or called me stupid. We were equally fascinated with each other and the life I thought we were building together was one filled with magic, words, music and love. Francis and I were in the process of discovery, and I liked to imagine the path that we were forging together on the surface of the map within my mind. Everyone has a map like this, with roads already traveled and paths yet to be found.

On the map within me, I could see where our paths had converged, and the lines radiating from that point were brighter, drawn in shades of flamingo pink, sunset gold and the brightest cerulean blue. Looking back over the map, some of the lines that were drawn had been jagged and sharp enough to draw blood; a lot of them had. I traced the lines that blossomed like a flower ever since Francis and I had started dating and they flowed like water and air.

Which was I surprised to feel a jagged wall between Francis and myself as we rode back to his apartment. Indeed, there were no words shared. I tried to talk to him and figure out what was wrong, but he just kept shaking his head. We got off the bus and mad our way to his home in silence. No one else was home yet, so we just made our way to his room. I watched the man I love sit on his bed and crumple into himself as if the wall he had been a moment ago had just come tumbling down.

“You must think I’m an idiot, I’m sorry Jamieson. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” I asked, sitting down beside him on the bed. I was surprised that I didn’t put any walls up. I knew that we were about to have a conversation that I might not like, but I loved Francis so completely that it didn’t occur to me for even a moment to be fearful.

He took my hands in his and they were warm. When Francis raised his head and looked at me, I was surprised to find tears in his eyes. “You’re only six years older than my son.” He let out a sob and I watched a tear slide down his cheek. “I don’t know what to do. What direction do I take?” There was desperation in his voice. “I love you, I know that, and your love is a gift, such a gift and I never thought I would find love again. I thought that I was destined to be alone for the rest of my life, and then you appeared as if sent by the gods. But you’re only six years older than my son.”

I knew that Francis had two children from when he was married before he came out of the closet. I knew that they were still a small part of his life, but we had never talked about them. Our relationship was still so new, and Francis and I hadn’t been together for long, even though our love was deep. He had never brought them up before.

“Well, did you want to talk about it?” I asked. I knew he was hurting over something, and I wanted to help him heal. I loved him so completely that I thought that love could heal anything.

He kissed me softly. “No, I just don’t know what to do. I mean, I’ve gotten lots of comments from people like Fox, but I love you and that goes beyond age. I love your spirit and I’m so happy to be in your glow. I’ve just been in a funk since the brunch. Fox’s comment really got to me.”

“What can I do?” I asked softly. I knew that he was still upset, that Fox’s comment had unlocked something within him. Maybe it had already been unlocked if he had been getting comments from other people about our age difference. I saw nothing wrong with being nineteen and Francis being forty-one. “Tell me what I can do and what you need from me.” I wanted him to know that we could get through this together. When Francis looked at me, I watched him search my face and knew that he was wishing I was a few years older. It had been the first time he had looked at me like that. He had always looked at me and accepted me just as I was and I didn’t see that within his eyes. It was there for a moment and gone in the next.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “You must think I’m an idiot, I’m just being an idiot.”

When he kissed me, there was no hesitancy and no wall between our lips, so I gave into the kiss and let the sound of worry and anguish in his voice fade from my mind, sure that our love wouldn’t falter and that our map would be filled with so many lines, it would look like a spider’s web.

I hoped for this as much as I willed myself to forget.

Chapter Forty – 5 of Cups

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

I was smiling when the bus drew up to the stop.

Francis was there waiting for me. He saw me in through the window of the bus and he came towards me, each step making the light in his face shine brighter. I wondered if I was as bright as him. I looked down at my skin and wondered if my light would shine through. I could feel the brightness increase the closer to Francis that I got. I wondered if it was possible that I was made of stars. I could see pinpricks of light in the pores of my skin.

The bus stopped and the door opened, and he was there in front of me. I had been dreaming and thinking about him all night and I was thrilled to realize that he wasn’t a dream and that the attraction to him was still palpable and real.  I could feel it growing within me with each step that I took toward him and wondered if the stars would be able to find the way out of my skin.

I had to be dreaming. I couldn’t be walking towards a beautiful man who was attracted to me, but then he was there, and his arms wrapped around me, and his kiss was jus as it was the night before, heady and full of want. I kissed him back and trying to convey joy and amazement. It felt like I was flying even though I knew that my feet were planted firmly on the ground. It was everything I thought falling in love should be.

He broke the kiss and looked me, light dancing in his eyes. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi yourself,” I told him. I kissed him again and then he took my hand, and we made our way to his apartment building. It felt natural holding his hand, like it belonged there. He took his hand back briefly to light two cigarettes and passed one to me.

I walked beside him, relishing the feeling of his hand clasping mine. I could feel an electric current passing between us and I began to wonder if the light would float out of us. I imagined a cloud of dust filled with diamonds in our wake. I felt so unlike myself, not in a bad way. I knew that we had only just met, but Francis could see all of me. He saw the pain that I carried with me, recognized it within himself, and still wanted me.

I knew that there were a few things we would have to discover about each other, but I also knew that I already loved him without a shadow of a doubt and that frightened me. I had dreamed of finding a man who would love me without question, but I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of fear. Despite that, I knew that I was heading towards something, and I was glad that we were going to be doing it together.

We walked into his apartment and Stacey was there, along with another young woman. “Good to see you again, Jamieson!” She said with a wide smile. She turned and gave Francis a wide wink. “This is my daughter, Shawna.”

Shawna came forward and gave me a quick hug. She was my age and had dark auburn hair and a kind face. “Hello! I’ve heard a lot about you. I hope all of it’s true.” I blushed, but not as deeply as Francis did. “I’m glad to see that someone has been able to pull Francis out of his shell.”

“We call him the turtle,” Stacey said. “Occasionally, he will peek out and engage with life, but it’s not too often.”

“What are you talking about?” Francis said, putting his hands on his hips. “I engage with life more than you two!” He wagged his finger at them both. “Come on, Jamieson. I’ll take you to my room.”

He showed me to his room and it was like a world colour had bloomed around me. I stepped into a room that had been decked out with all the colours of the rainbow. The walls had been draped with pictures of friends and family amidst scarves in every shade draped from the curtains, a bedspread that was dark brown and gold, and more fabric than I had ever seen before in my life. There were plastic boxes filled with pins and needles for sewing, trim and fringe for edging, pearls and other beads tucked beside a wingback chair covered in blue velvet fabric. In one corner was a mannequin dummy draped with the beginnings of an outfit. He had a small television in the corner. There were shelves that ran nearer to the ceiling that held books and crystals. I could see a mortar and pestle and a wreath with a pentagram at its centre.

“Don’t mind those two,” he said and closed the door. “They like to tease me a lot. They call me the hermit or the turtle. I just like my own company.”

“You have to be the hermit in order to shine your light.” I said.

“You’re adorable,” he said softly. He kissed me softly and I felt the need in that kiss.

We stood there looking at each other and then he sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him. “I just want to clear things up a bit before we continue.”

“Okay,” I knew what he wanted to talk about before he opened his mouth. There was a weight in the air and I could feel it thickening as he gathered up the strength that he needed to speak them.

“You know what I want to talk to you about. You know that someone hurt me, too. But you should know that I haven’t been with anyone since then.”

“How long ago was that?” I asked him. I spoke the words softly, afraid to disturb the cloud that filled the room around us. I could sense that this was the weight that Francis carried with him. As he spoke, I watched as the cloud grew.

“It’s been fifteen years.” There was a loud silence after those words. “You must think I’m some kind of coward.”

“I would never think that of you.” I told him.

“I’ve been too afraid to.” He took another deep breath as if preparing himself for what could only be the worst. I watched as the cloud began to grow even darker, filled with words left unsaid, emotions kept to himself. I carried my own cloud, so I recognized it right away. “Every time that someone shows any kind of interest, I’d run away from them. I was too afraid to let anyone else get that close to me again.” He took a breath and when he let it out, I could feel a breeze kiss my cheeks and watched as it danced with the curtains, sending the gold lame and leopard printed fabric flutter in the wind.

“I was too afraid, until you.”

With those last two words, the weight of the cloud disappeared as if the sun itself had dried up all the unshed and excess rain. He was looking at me with hope it his eyes and at that moment, I would see right into his spirit, his dark eyes filled with need, want and hope “If you’ll have me, Jamieson, I’m yours.”

I kissed him and nodded. There was no question in my mind. My heart already knew the answer and I thought that he could feel the words  

Leaning forward, I kissed him gently on the lips. “Of course I’ll have you, but only if you’ll have me.”

He pulled me into a hug and kissed me. I could feel the hope in that kiss because I felt the same. I wanted to let go of the pain that I had carried onto for so long. I tried to communicate all of this in my kiss so that he would know that I understood him. When he gently broke the kiss, he looked at me and said “So, if we’re going to be together, what do I call you?”

Words ran through my mind like heart, magic, wish and love but I just told him: “How about boyfriends? That gives us a start and we can grow something together.”

There was a soft knock at Francis’ bedroom door. Stacey opened the door. She held up a plate of cookies. “Hello you two, I thought you two could come up for air and that you might need some nourishment.” She gave me a wide wink and I felt my cheeks blush.

“We’ve decided to call ourselves boyfriends.” Francis said with a wide smile.

“Boyfriends, huh?” Stacey gave us a huge grin. “That’s fantastic news!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Francis said.

I nodded and took a cookie from the plate. I thought I had never tasted anything so wonderful in my life before.

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.