Tag: Growth

Chapter Sixteen – The Tower

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide

When I saw her, my first thought was of fire.

She had spiky red and gold hair, brown eyes and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks. She was always smiling, and I wondered how a person could be a never ending source of light instead of puzzle or some kind of maze. I wasn’t used to that. Everyone was a kind of puzzle if you thought about it; you had to figure your way through what they held dear and see if resembled yours. It took years to know a person completely.

Renee wasn’t like that. She loved everyone equally and it didn’t matter who they were. Even if you chose to live outside and shunned the shelters, she loved you. If you had an issue with drugs, that didn’t matter. She always talked to you like you mattered.

She saw everyone.

I knew that I always lit up when I saw her as I began to run into her with more frequency. I didn’t know much about where she had come from and how she had ended up on the streets, but from the moment I ran into her in the YSB, it was like were drawn to each other.

I was a moth to a flame when I saw her.

All of my walls would come down. It wasn’t a question of hiding anything or observing their actions so I knew if I could trust them. There was none of that. I was instantly open  with her as there wasn’t even an iota of fear. I had only met one other person like that in my life up to that point. Those kinds of people are rare in life.

To say I was enraptured would be an understatement.

“Honey, you sound like you’re in love with her.” Sunshine said. He had just read a page of one of his journals and had asked me what happened during my day. I had spent the last five minutes talking about everything that Renee and I had done that day.

“Yeah, like I love you,” I told him. “Like we’re friends.”

“Do you ever mention to other people how my hair looks when the sun hits it just right?” He asked, giving me a wide grin.

“No, I tell them how awesome you are.”

“I know you do, what’s not to love. But you’re talking like you are in love with her.”

“That’s not possible, I’m gay.” I told him. I sat there looking at him, a new blanket I had gotten draped around my shoulders. I had picked it up at the Mission earlier and I pulled it closer around me despite the relative heat of the evening.

I thought of everything that I had given up to be gay, all that I had left behind to finally claim who I really truly was. I had struggled so much to be true to who I was. I had tried committing suicide twice in my teens, I had survived an abusive homelife and I overcome the mountain of high school, the ledge that should have been a place of safety that would help me see my path in the future but instead was a place of judgement, hatred and isolation.

I had survived everything to be what I was. It had been a secret for so long that finally owing up to the truth of who I was often felt like a waterfall that had been in front of me all this time had finally parted to let me through so that I could see what was on the other side.

“There are all kinds of love, Jamie. You love who you love, it’s your business.” He gave my hand a rub and lit a cigarette. He took a drag and passed it to me. “It doesn’t mean you have to sleep with her, but you can get as close as you want to. There’s no judgement. The normal rules don’t apply here.”

I passed him back the cigarette and when I let the smoke go free from my mouth, I let the blanket loosen around me. Sunshine had gone back to writing and I pulled out my tarot cards to figure out what I should do. I shuffled pulled out the Tower and the Seven of Pentacles. I looked within the guidebook and tried to determine what my future would bring.

Chapter Thirteen – Death

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Tarot

We spent our days in the square.

It was where we gathered when we had nothing to do and wanted to be with others but still have the freedom to be outside. There was a Coffee Revolution on one side with a large patio and on the other side, there was a Scotiabank. There were other little stores too, but we stayed away from those stores. We felt comfortable more out in the open areas. I know that I felt safer among a group of people than I did sleeping in the shelters. I had stayed at the Ottawa Mission before, and I had felt like I was out there for the world to gawk at.

When I had stayed at the Ottawa Mission, I’d had a clean room with four walls and a small window, a simple bed with clean sheets and a blanket. It is a place for healing, but when you come out of there, people look at you differently. Your story is visible for everyone to see, and you don’t belong to anyone.

Among the people here, I was among my family. Sunshine and the people I knew here had become part of me in some way. I was surprised by how quickly you could form a bond with someone. All you had here was your word and your reputation. As long as I was honest about who I was and treated people kindly until they gave me a reason not to, I could be part of this family. It was that simple to have a family and I had never experienced anything like it. In my biological and extended families, there were lies, memories held onto for too long, jealousy and pain caused by other people. There were shadows with the occasional moment of light. There were promises that were broken time and time again.

With the people here on the streets, we supported one another, and we fought for each other. These were my brothers and sisters, and this surprised me. To be accepted for who I was and the fact that people wanted to know me was mind-blowingly amazing. It felt wonderful not to justify who I was and talk about what had brought me here. I simple was.

At the end of the day, we would go back to wherever we had found to sleep and rest our heads, but during the day, we always found each other. It was like there was a homing beacon that led us together.

I remember sitting in the square one day with my family, the sun bright on my face and in my eyes. I turned to look away from the suns rays and found myself looking at my mother. She was walking with a friend and looked just as shocked to see me as I was to see her. I hadn’t thought I’d ever see my mother here, but I knew that she often went out on Friday nights of went shopping on the weekends. Still, it I had never thought that I would see her here, or rather that I couldn’t comprehend the sudden clash of my two worlds: where I had been and where I was now.

My mother did not slow down when she saw me. She continued talking to her friend and kept walking. Her eyes looked at me though and I tried to hear what my mother was saying without the power of words. I felt an ocean stretch between us, each of us on our own island and unable to touch each other. I watched the current take my mother away from me and into the waves.

I sat there stunned, my head filled only with the sound of waves and the scrape of metal and steel when the waves hit the rocks around me. I tried to think of what she could have done, what kind of life receiver she could have thrown me, and my brain came up completely empty except for the sound of the waves hitting the rocks with furious abandonment. I knew at that moment that if I didn’t give up an offering of some kind, the wave would take me, too.

Closing my eyes, I tried to delve into the wires, skin and light. It took me a while to find it, but it was still pristine. It was the mind garden that I carried with me, the plants the result of everything I had planted.

Around me, my family carried on and I could hear the gentle sounds of their voices, but I was still within myself. I knew what I had to give to the waters, what I could freely give them in order the calm the waters within me. I didn’t want to break, not now, not after all this time. My mother told me that I would have to learn to do everything by myself, that nobody else would be able to do it for me.

Up until quite recently, my mother had been the one who had helped me and made me realize that anything I wanted to do was possible, despite being disabled. She had helped me to realize that even though I had difficulties I had to fight against every day, I could fight the battle. Even better, I could win.

I just didn’t realize that when my mother had said that I would have to do everything by myself and nobody else was going to help me, she was also talking about herself.

I reached down and gently plucked the Lily-of-the-Valley. Its petals were a wonder of blue, a few different shades so that the petals were made of water. The petals had reminded me of sapphires, and they always shone like beacons in the dark when I got lost for too long among my plants.

I went to the small pond in the centre of my mind and placed the lily within the water. The hiss of the waves and the strong screech of metal stopped. I wondered where the currents would take the lily. I knew only that by the time I saw it again, I might be ready to see my mother again.