Tag: Forward

Chapter Seventy-Three – Knight of Pentacles

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

“And you’re going to need more clothes. You can’t move into your place without any real clothes, of and you need bedsheets.”

We were in the Giant Tiger in the Byward Market. Rhonda was putting things in my cart. She put a set of one-hundred percent flannel sheets in, along with a pair of comfortable looking pyjama’s. “I’m not sure I’ll need those.” I told her.

“Cus you’re such a slut, right?” She winked at me. “No, trust me, you’ll want these. The sheets will keep you warm in the winter, make no mistake. Unless you have someone to cuddle up to.”

“It’ll be a while before that happens.”

“Never say never!” Rhonda added a comfortable looking sweater in robins egg blue to the basket. “This is totally your colour.”

            I tried to put the sweater back, but Rhonda slapped my hand. “Hey, once its in the basket, it stays.”

“I can’t afford all of this.” I watched as she threw a three pack of ramen, a box of granola bars and jars of peanut butter and jelly into basket. I was trying to think of what little money I had and how I would make it stretch.

“Nothing doing. I’ve told you already that you aren’t paying for any of this.”

I watched her move through the store like a woman on a mission. She added what looked like a soft blanket and packs of underwear and socks to the basket. She handed one basket to me and grabbed another. She moved with purpose but also with patience. She was being very patient with me. “I can’t let you do that.”

“You can and you will. I’m loyal to my friends, Jamieson. Let me be a friend to you. Friends help friends when they need help. You’ve been told you have to do everything yourself all the time. But you don’t have to, okay?”

We walked up to the second floor which handled housewares and linens. She threw bath towels into the second basket. “You’re going to need these, and look! A fuzzy housecoat!”

“That will look out of place in a boarding house.”

“What, you’re going to rush across to the bathroom stark naked? Plus, what if you want to do a strip show for someone?” She gave me a wink and threw in a few t-shirts.

“Like that will happen.” I said.

“Only cus you don’t want it to. Be open to new possibilities, Jamieson. That’s all you have to do, the rest will follow.”

The items in the baskets were piling up. She handed me one of the baskets and grabbed another. On the third floor, they had things dishes and small pieces of furniture. Rhonda grabbed a small table and put it in the basket.

“I don’t need a table.”

“Yes, you do. Where do you have your altar right now?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Right, so you need a table. You need to have somewhere in your home that’s a sacred space for you, so that you can converse with Spirit.”

She picked up a box that contained an unassembled table and put it in the new basket. “Easy peasy, you just screw the legs in. Did you any candles for your altar? How about a burning dish for incense?” She plunked one in the basket.

“You don’t have to do all this.”

“I know I don’t. Just let me help you, okay? It means a lot that you let me help you.”

The look she gave me was one filled with hope. I could tell that this simple act of kindness was as huge for her as it was for me. All I had to do was accept the gift. “Why is it so important to help me? I’m not anyone.”

“You’re wrong. You are Jamieson Wolf and you are my friend, okay? That’s a good place to start.”

The cashier helped us bag everything and Rhonda and I took the bus back to Monk Street to put everything in my new room. It felt odd to know that I had a place of my own where I could lock the door and have safety.

Even now, as we stood in the middle of the room deciding where everything would go, it felt like it was too much. Catherine had found me a used bed and boxspring in the basement downstairs. “People often leave their beds when they move out.”

“I can’t take this,” I told her.

“Yes, you can,” Rhonda said. “Now tell Catherine thank you.”

“Thank you, Catherine.”

“Don’t mention it.” She gave me a brilliant smile, and I wondered what I had done to be graced by it.

I helped Rhonda make my bed. She had gotten me a simple duvet for the bed, too, even though I told her that I had blankets already. I carried them with me everywhere I went with everything else I owned in my purple backpack.

“Those were blankets for when you needed to run. This duvet is for a home. Keep the blankets for an emergency, okay?”

We spent the afternoon putting things together. I had a new bed, a table and a chair with a plate, bowl, knife, fork and spoon to eat with. We put that the corner of the room so that I could eat and look out the window. The other smaller table she placed on the other wall so that my spot for spiritual guidance could also be given the light of the window. I had my clothes nicely folded and kept in boxes that I placed at the foot of my bed. The door to the sunroom was open and it had a small carpet and a fold up chair so that I could sit out there and enjoy the sun and the growing plants that covered the windows. There was another box that served as my bookshelf.

I looked around at everything and was astounded to realize that this was my home. I hadn’t had a place of my own for so long that I had forgotten what it was like. Rhonda came to stand beside me, and she took my hand and gave it a squeeze.

“All kinds of fucking fantastic, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

We were silent for a moment. I took in the sounds of people and the music of the house that I could hear. Finally, Rhonda spoke.

“I remember when I first got off the streets.” She said. “I got my apartment and it was most amazing thing in the world because it was all mine, you know? Everything in the apartment was mine and no one could take it from me. The home was mine and only I could decide who I let in. The whole place felt too big, but not big enough, as if my spirit was bigger than it was, you know?”

I nodded and didn’t say anything at first. She had just voiced everything that I was feeling. These two room were all mine and only I could decide who would be allowed in.

“You asked me why I was doing all of this for you before.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Because you’re my friend and you have been kinder to me than anyone else, I have ever known. Because I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I have to know that you will be okay, okay? I have to know that whatever happens to us, that I made sure you had the footing to see yourself as I see you. I have to make sure that you’re going to be okay.”

“Hey,” I said. “We’re okay, we’re always going to be okay.” I was worried by the way that she was talking and the tears that were sliding down her face.

“Yeah, I know. I know we’ll be.” She let out a breath and lit a cigarette. I handed her the ashtray that she had gotten me at the store. “Mostly because when I took the leap to get off the streets, there was no one to help me land on my feet. I had to do it all on my own. You’ve already had a lot happen to you. I wanted to make it easier for you than it was for me, okay?”

Now tears were sliding down my cheeks. I wiped them away. “Okay, thank you.” I took a breath. “I love you, Rhonda.”

“And aren’t you lucky that I love you back?” She let out a shaky wet laugh. “Let’s go get a coffee to celebrate your new home. I’ll let you buy, okay?”

“All right.” I hugged her, careful of her cigarette and we left my home. I took out the keys and locked the door behind me.

Chapter Sixty – Knight of Swords

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

My grief was easier to carry in the morning.

At some point during the night, I had found my way back to my tent. I awoke to the sound of voices, birdsong and the smell of coffee. In the distance, I could hear someone tapping gently on a drum. I lay there in my tent trying to see if I could find the shape of my emotions, but they were clouded by everything that my mind was trying to figure out.

I pulled on my sarong, a t-shirt and my sandals and grabbed the cloth bag that held my shampoo, conditioner, body wash and my towel.  I wanted to get clean before I had a cup of coffee. I emerged from my tent, and I met Lisa’s knowing gaze. She gave me a smile and raised her cup of coffee in salute.

“Going down to the watering hole?” Lisa gave me a very saucy wink.

I blushed under her gaze. “Yes.”

“Here, take this with you.” She handed me a travel mug filled with coffee. “Do you want me to come with you?” She did a downward glance at my legs. I knew that she was worried about me making my way down rocks at the side of the river on my own, but I had checked out the terrain the night before and I thought it would be all right.

My body had a way of disagreeing with me sometimes. It depended on the amount of pain I was in. Having lived with me, Lisa had seen what the cerebral palsy did to my body. She also knew that I had difficulty with uneven terrain. I could usually make it if I took my time, but I had to be careful.

“It’s all good, enjoy your coffee. I’ll be right back.”

I made my way to the river, following the dirt road. I took in the sounds of the water, listened to the music of people laughing and tried to put one foot in front of the other. I didn’t tell Lisa, but I was nervous about bathing in front of others naked. It was silly as Soph had seen me naked the night before, but this was different. To bathe in front of other people, you had to be sure of yourself, confident enough to bare it all. The idea was beyond frightening to me and at the same time, I thought it would help me finally feel free.

I loved myself but hated my body. It had been a source of so much discomfort for me and I had difficulty being naked in front of others, even those that I loved and trusted. I had always been taught to hide my body because I was disabled and that mindset never really left me, no matter how far away from my father I was able to get. I still carried his voice in my head and it was difficult to shake it.

I stood there wondering what I was going to do when I heard someone call out my name. It was the woman who had painted her body at the fire. She was down near the water, sitting on the edge of the rocks and she waved, giving me a brilliant smile.

“Come on down here, the water is so nice.”

Making my way down the rockface, I made sure to take my time. I listened to the water as I looked down at my feet, trying to make sure to put my foot in the right spot before taking another step. I tried not to think about getting naked, knowing that I would have to do so when I got to the water, but I focused on my footsteps and the sound of the water calling me forwards. It took me longer than I thought it would, but I did it. I got there, despite my fear.

I sat down beside the woman. She was completely naked and covered in a loose towel. It was draped around her shoulders as if it were a cape. When the wind blew, it looked as if she were riding the waves and the wind was claiming her as its own. When the wind took hold of my sarong, I held on to it, not wanting it to blow away.

“Just put your sarong down underneath your towel. You can sit right next to me.”

I tried to look around and tried to cover myself with my towel and remove my sarong, but with the wind blowing at the edge of the water, there was no way that I was going to be able to do this with any kind of grace.

“Don’t be embarrassed by your body,” the woman said. “Everyone is naked here. No one is going to judge you.”

I nodded to show that I heard her and pulled off my shirt. I held onto my sarong and let the wind claim it. The wind pulled the sarong from my body, and I stood there for a moment, completely naked and free. I could feel the wind moving through my hair and I raised my arms, letting myself feel the current of air that was all around me. My sarong flapped in the wind and streamed out behind me in the air. At that moment, I was filled with a fantastic kind of freedom. My heartbeat as if I were riding into the wind and I felt like nothing could stop me.

I opened my eyes and though I felt eyes on me, no one was yelling in horror or shock. I let myself smile a bit and sat down beside the woman. “My name’s Daphne,” she said, holding out her hand. “Merry meet.”

I shook her hand. “My name is Jamieson, merry meet.”

“Merry meet again.” She looked at my little bag of personals. “Now bathing in the water is easy. All you need to do it soap up first and then dunk yourself in the water.”

I moved to the side of the rockface, and I paused for a moment to let the sun touch my skin. It was freeing and the wind felt fantastic on my skin. I slid into the water, letting out a small yell of joy at the coldness of the morning water.  I dunked my head under water and climbed back up onto the rockface to soap up. We had to use only biodegradable soap, shampoo and conditioner to protect the water. I soaped up as quickly as I could. It was colder out of the water, but the sun did feel amazing. I slid off the rockface again and made sure to dunk my head again and sluice off the soap from my body. I hung off the rockface so that I could put conditioner in my hair and then dunked my head again.

I pulled myself out the water one last time and lay on my towel beside Daphne. I let the sun shine down on me and I felt a soft breeze cares my skin. It didn’t occur to me to hide my nudity. In that moment, cleaned and blessed by the water, I let the sun and wind roll over my skin.

It felt like the wind was trying to pull me forward to something greater. I could feel the wind pulling at me as if it were impatient for me to start down a new path. I knew that I was right where I needed to be for now.

I knew that I would eventually need to make a move in a new direction, but I was right where I needed to be. Daphne handed me a lit cigarette, and I watched the wind pull the smoke into the blue ether of the sky.

“Come on,” Daphne said. “Let’s go to the morning circle. I can help you up the rocks, too.”

Instead of being embarrassed that she had seen my difficult walk down to the water, I took her hand when she held it out for me. I didn’t know where the path I was on would lead me, but I embraced the wind and let it carry me forward. Standing, I threw on my sarong, grabbed my tumbler of coffee and prepared to lose myself in the forest, the wind causing the leaves around us to whisper as we moved forward to what would come.

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 Thirty-Two – The Prince of Wands

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

Lisa thought the perfect time for me to meet Francis would be at the next Pagan get together.

“It’s like a dance party talent show,” she told me with a twinkle in her eyes. “I told Francis all about you and now you two can meet and heal your wounds a little.”

“I don’t see why all of this is necessary,” I told her.

“Because you’re too afraid to think of how it might help in the future. You’re so focused on the now. You’re too much in the moment.”

“That’s all I have.” I said. “Thinking that way has always done me well.”

“You need to think of the possibilities,” Lisa told me. “You can’t just stay in the now. You’re going to miss something if you do.”

She told me that I had to think of a talent. “You were in drama, right? So how about you do a monologue? That could be fun.”

In truth, I had loved dramatic arts, and I loved to write monologues. They were a solo performance or speech that was supposed to bring you into the moment and make you feel something. They were also done on their own, so it suited me fine when I was in dramatic arts in high school or theatre classes in university. I loved the singleness of them; I was able to be on stage and I didn’t need to depend on anyone else to learn their lines. Plus, the light shone on me. I could be in the spotlight if I was someone else.

“Why don’t you do a monologue about the misunderstandings that people have about being Pagan? That could be a fun angle.”

I decided to run with the idea and began writing things I’d like to say in my piece. I knew that others would be singing, telling jokes, reding a story they had written, that kind of thing. The event raised money for an online chat board. I didn’t have a computer and had not been on the internet for years, so I had never used it. However, I thought of what Lisa had said about putting myself out there and living for a bit. I thought of The Hermit card the tarot and I thought I had been charging my light for too long.

It I looked at it within me, I could see clear across the forest to the fields beyond. Every blade of grass in the garden of my mind was as clear as day. I was tired of keeping my light in the darkness and shadows because I was afraid of being seen. I had to let the light out eventually. I used to love being watched on stage, the laughter that my part would create or the fear and joy. I loved being able to create emotions in other people and I don’t know when that joy stopped for me. What Lisa was asking me to do was to step out of the shadows and to let my light shine.

I was terrified of speaking in front of other people again, of being seen, but I also wanted to be seen. I couldn’t hide forever. I tried to think of what I would say about Paganism and thought that going at it from a funny angle would be best. I loved comedy, so I would do my monologue from a place of humour. Once I had a focus, it was like the words came pouring out of me. I filled page after page with words and once that was done, I read them over and saw some things I liked and some I didn’t.

Though I had always written, I hadn’t written a play or a scene for years. I loved the shaping of the words and it was like I was trying to find my way again. I went out for a break and a cigarette and took my pages with me. Lisa was already outside and she handed me a smoke. “What do you got?”

“I think I have something.” I said.

“Do you feel like practicing?” Lisa asked me.

I read out a little bit of my piece and was surprised when Lisa laughed. I looked up at her shocked.

“Don’t look at me like a deer in the headlights. That was funny! You’ve got this, Jamieson. You have to start believing in yourself, but your young yet.” She took a drag off her cigarette. “You’ve got time. You can’t be afraid to shine, Jamieson. You have to hold your head up high and not hide yourself. You shine too brightly for that.”

I shook my head. “I don’t though.”

“Don’t what?”

“Shine.” I said. “I don’t shine.”

“You should if you let yourself.” She butted out her cigarette. “Come on, let’s hear it again. This time, don’t be so hesitant. Lean into the jokes. You’ve written something really great here. We can trim it back so that it works better.”

I thought of the opportunity to shine underneath the comfort of a light again and nodded, looking down at my words and tried to let my light shine brighter with each word I spoke. I could no longer be afraid of myself.