Tag: home

Chapter Twenty-Five – 4 of Wands

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

The idea of having my own home was still odd to me.

I had to share the washroom with four other men, but my room was mine and no one could take that from me. My meagre amount of clothes barely filled the dresser, but they weren’t in my bag or on the floor. I had my notebook on my desk, and I had alarm clock on the ledge of the window so that it was close by.

It was a comfort to have somewhere of my own to go home to. My childhood home had been filled with love when it could be found, but it tended to hide a lot. There was no love that could stand in the face of violence. Other homes held expectations that had cut off my air and forced me to be someone that I wasn’t. I was disabled and gay and I didn’t fit in.  I was reminded of this so often in various ways, most of them cruel. I tried to take my own life rather than live in a world that would try to take my light.

Home was not a word of comfort for me.

It took having my own room, four walls that provided safety, to realize that home had to start with myself. I had to be at home within myself. Only then could I carry the feeling of home wherever I went. This room wasn’t the ideal home, but it was mime. It was somewhere I could lay my head, somewhere I could read and a place where I could heal.

When the thinking got to be too much, when the four walls became too enclosing, I went looking for those that I loved who felt like home to me. I thought of these people as kindred souls, the ones that helped to keep the flame burning on the candle within shining bright. I found myself drawn more and more to Lisa’s place. It often felt more like home than my room. There were always people dropping by to visit with Lisa. They were from the Pagan community like Sophie and Jess, and they were so open and welcoming. If I had a question about Paganism, something I was struggling to understand, they helped me.

I started going to the Pagan brunches every Sunday at the James Street Feed Co. Everyone shone. I was surprised at how much I felt at home with these people. They were so warm. Almost all of them hugged me close as if they had known me for years when we may have only just met. The Pagans that Lee introduced me to were some of the most beautiful people that I had met. Their light made them beautiful.

They seemed to come from everywhere and from all walks of life. Some of them worked for the government, some were social workers and private care workers, others were artists and poets, dancers and singers. The people that I met at the Pagan brunches didn’t fit any kind of category. They were all completely themselves and seemed to defy categorization. There were Wiccans, Druids, Bards and all manner of different kinds of Pagan. Instead of turning a blind eye or a judgemental one towards what they didn’t think fit in, the Pagan brunches welcomed everyone.

Everyone was home within the tree of life that Paganism offered.

After I attended a few more brunches, I felt more at home with these people that had welcomed me as much as I welcomed them. Much as I had felt at home on the streets, or in my one room, I felt at home here. I got to know more of the people and it felt like I was getting to know myself the further I let myself delve into Paganism. It was a revelation.

I found myself reading more about gods and monsters and the different paths of Paganism. I was gradually finding my way through it all and I had finally found the comfort home within a faith and spirituality that would finally have me just as I am without having to change who or what I was.

Just as I had a physical home in my room for my body, my mind and spirit had found a home, too.

Chapter One – 1 – The Magician

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide

There was only one place that I could think of going. I still didn’t know if it was sensible. I knew he was bad for me, and maybe that was part of the attraction.

I had known Shades before, when I used to come and visit my brother. He had stayed in the shelters and couch surfed and lived off the streets. They had become his home for a while, and he was completely himself there. More than that, we didn’t have the influences of our parents who liked to pit us against each other. All parents do this when there is a divorce; mostly, it’s just happenstance.

My brother and I were our complete selves on the streets.

Everyone mistook me for him. It was hard not to what with us being identical mirror image twins. Each time someone asked if I was him, I felt a sense of pride. I was proud of what my brother had created here. He had made room to fit in and what’s more, he had made room for me.

Even back then when I was just visiting the streets, Shade had an alure about him. He had a chiseled jaw that was always covered in stubble and dirty blond hair that he always wore pushed back. His blue eyes made you feel like you were really being seen. He was such a man, and yet there was an attraction even then, all those years before. He would always be able to charm someone for money and my brother and I would sit with him in numerous coffee shops of Nickels Diner. There was one diner that I’ve forgotten the name of. I know that there was checkered floors, red and white striped walls and green booths. We would go there and get coffee and smoke, choose songs at random on the jukebox. The light would hit his face, and it looked as if it were drawn out of shadows.

When my stepfather kicked me out of my home, I went right to Shades. It was the only place I could think of going. Shades was so enthralling to me. I lost all sense around him. Part of the reason that I got kicked out of home was that I had started seeing Shades. It was only fitting that he provide me with safety in some way, even though I knew he was anything but safe. That was part of his allure.

He could spin the story, work the trick, make the magic, but there was nothing safe about him. That was part of his allure and what drew me to him. I had been the smart boy for so long, the good son. I was desperate to rebel in every way possible.

I didn’t even know which apartment he lived in. I stood in the alleyway and threw small rocks up at his window. Shades opened it and looked down. I didn’t know what else to say, but though that honest probably was best.

“I had nowhere else to go,” I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.

            He looked down at me, his blond hair flashing in the half light of the alleyway. “I’ll be right down,” he said.

I stood there in the dark and thought that he might not show, that he would hide from me inside of his room, the light shining out into the cerulean blue of the night sky. The air was so thick with summer heat and the want of my own body.

Then there were his footsteps, and I knew that I would be okay, at least for now. He took my hand in his and we raced up the stairs to his room. He let go of my hand when we entered the apartment. It had three bedrooms, a common room, bathroom and kitchenette. The other people there were like him, trying to find a place to call home.

“This is my friend,” he said as we walked toward his room. That was the only explanation he gave them, and they didn’t ask for more details. When he closed the door behind him, he shucked of his shirt and we sat there in the summer heat so warm against our skin, listening to his old radio as it played old rock and roll and breathing in the smell of each others sweat.

It wasn’t home, but it was in its own way a beginning.