Tag: Learning

Chapter Seventy-One – Ten of Pentacles

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

The ride to the hospital was a blur.

I called the cab and while we waited for it to arrive, I called Lisa’s boyfriend Carl and Darnelle to let them know that Lisa’s water broke. I reached out to Sophie and let her know and I knew that she would let everyone else know.

I packed a bag for Lisa and helped her into the cab, giving the driver instructions to drive us to the general hospital. Lisa was trying to do deep breathing exercises and was attempting to light a cigarette for herself at the same time. I took the cigarette from her and butted it out. “Now is not the time.”

“I’m fucking stressing out. Now is the perfect time. I want a smoke before we get to the hospital.”

When she reached for her bag again, I took it and placed in my backpack. I had packed my own bag in preparation for this day as I knew that it would be coming soon. I sat in the cab and tried to encourage Lisa to do the breathing exercises that we had practised. Thankfully, the cab driver drove very quickly to get her to the hospital as fast as he could.

“You’re doing great, Lisa.”

“I want a fucking cigarette.”

“You can have one when this is all done. For now, just try breathing and focus on little Rosalind and try to calm yourself.”

“That’s kind of hard to do when a baby is trying to push it’s way out of my vagina.” She said harshly.

It’s almost over, I said to myself. It’s almost over and then I will be free.

I tried to keep her calm during the ride and when we finally arrived at the hospital, I thanked the driver. “Good luck to the lady,” he said.

“Thank you,” I told him and gave him a nice tip.

“Okay, I want to have a cigarette before we go in. Give me my fucking smokes.”

I ignored her and got Lisa into a wheelchair. I took her to the main emergency window and told the nurses there that Lisa’s water had broken.

The next hour or so was a blur as the nurses got Lisa comfortable on a bed and rolled it towards one of the rooms that were available. I was asked to help Lisa strip down so that she could put on a hospital gown. I was given a gown for myself so that I would be allowed into the delivery room.  

The doctors and nurses wheeled her into the surgery room and after that, it was a blur of motion, sound and the music that only a hospital room is capable of, the endless beeping and breathing and the beating of heart. During all of it, I held Lisa’s hand and told her that she would be okay, that she was a goddess, that she was capable of creating magic.

“You’re all I have,” she said. “Where is Carl?”

“He’s on his way. Try and stay calm.”

“I’m going to make him rue the day he got me pregnant!”

“That’s the spirit,” I told her. “Hold on to my hand as tightly as you want to.”

Lisa huffed out a breath. “I’m going to make him eat his fucking balls.”

“And I’m sure that Carl will appreciate that.” I told her. I thought it was best to agree with whatever she was saying, she was giving birth to life after all. She had seen me through so much and had given me a nest to grow in. Now, she would be raising another life in her home. I didn’t belong there anymore.

Lisa followed the doctor’s instructions, pushed when she needed to, breathed and paused when told. The entire time, she had hold of my left hand. I could no longer feel it. She looked at me and I was seeing the Lisa as she truly was: afraid and terrified. In that moment, Lisa and I shared something with each other. She looked at me with fear in her eyes, and I tried to tell her that everything was going to be okay. While she had hold of my hands, I tried to whisper this to her spirit. Lisa was in no fit state to hear me at the moment. It was my hope that her spirit would be receptive of the energy that I was giving to her. I pictured all my chakras sending her spirit what she would need, a beautiful rainbow shared between two people waiting to welcome a new person into the world.

In what seemed mere moments, but I’m sure it was longer, the doctor handed Lisa her beautiful baby girl. They cut the umbilical cord and made sure that Rosilind was okay. She was a beautiful five pounds and four ounces with a smattering of blond hair on her head. Rosilind seemed impossibly small, hardly even real, but she was. This tiny, beautiful human that had not existed a moment before but was here in front of me now.

Lisa handed her out to me without words. She didn’t need to ask; I came closer and wrapped her in my arms. She cuddled right in and hid her head in the crook of my arms. I wondered if she was excited for what the world had waiting for her. There would be a lot to fear, a lot to fight for but also a lot of joy. As I held her, I hoped that she would experience more joy than I did in her home and that she would grow into someone that would create rainbows out of rain.

There was the sound of footsteps behind us. Darnelle and her son, Fox, Sophie and Jenn came into the room, closely followed by Carl and the sound of others. We had all come together to celebrate this new life. None of us were related by blood, but we knew each other in our hearts and our spirits spoke the same language. We were kin and together, there was light.

I remembered to pull down some of the light from the air so that I could remember this moment and feel its warmth. I wrapped the light around my wrists like bracelets so that I could carry this memory with me.

Chapter Forty-Nine – King of Cups

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

I knew that I had given almost all my heart to Francis.

Some of it remained to love others in my life, but he held so much of me in his hands. Francis had taught me to love completely. I had never done this before and I struggled against it, but the longer we were together, the easier it was to love with my whole heart. We had been together for a few months now and in that time, Francis had helped me to rewrite what I thought love was.

We would talk late at night about what we wanted to do with our lives, the smoke from our cigarettes entwining and dancing between us. In every fantasy, we were together. It was wonderful to have such comfort with someone else and be completely myself.  Francis encouraged me to be my complete self and not hide who I was from anyone. “You’re so easy to love, Jamieson. It would be easier if you let people in.”

I shook my head. “It’s easier this way,” I said. “The less people that see the true me, the less people that will hurt me.”

“I know you were hurt before.” He took my hand in his. I had told him about growing up in an abusive family and how I was always the one to try and keep the peace, so I got hurt the most. I told Francis almost all the things my father had done to me. There were things that I could not tell the man I loved the most. I was completely myself with Francis, but I could not tell him everything that had shaped me. I thought he would look at me with disgust if he knew everything.

“You don’t have to carry it with you,” he said gently. “You can let it go.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I can. I don’t know how.”

“I can see the pain when I look into your eyes. You’re far too young to be carrying so much pain.”

“I don’t know what to do with it.” I told him. “It’s like it’s all entwined?” I motioned at my head and my heart. “Like the dark seeds that were planted in my head have bloomed dark flowers.” I held my hands upward on either side of my head.  “I’m sorry, that doesn’t make much sense.”

“It does,” he said. “You need to find a way to uproot the dark, Jamieson.”

That sounded ominous, like playing with shadows in the darkness where they could bite. I looked into his eyes at and for the first time in a long time, the sea that was always riling and turbulent within Francis’ eyes was still. The sea looked calm and still. He had been able to overcome the waves.

I wondered what kind of choice Francis had made for himself. I don’t know why that occurred to me, but it seemed like when I looked at him now, Francis seemed like he had been able to shuck off his own sadness. There had always been a light that shone brightly, but now when I looked into hie eyes, I could see the light of dusk as it hit the waves, carrying the glow into the night.

When we held each other that night, there was a deeper softness to his touch. I could hear the wind that still made the waves move within him. It took me a moment to realize that I could feel the wind within myself, that every time the breeze from the ocean that was inside Francis pushed the waves, I could feel the air enter me. I had never felt so alive, and I wanted to fly to where the wind wanted to take me. As I fell asleep beside Francis, I could hear the water and the air as they travelled over the water. I tried to hear what they were whispering to me, but the waves soon lulled me to sleep.

When sleep came, I let the wind take me.

Chapter Twenty-Three – 2 of Wands

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

It was fair to say that Lisa captivated me.

Instead of going downtown every day, I started going to Lisa’s place. She lived in the bottom floor of a red brownstone house with two other roommates. It was a three bedroom apartment with a sprawling kitchen, living room, three bedrooms, a big backyard and it was a complete and total disaster.

The first thing I noticed when I started visiting her was that I had to clear off clothing and objects of any of the chairs if I wanted to sit down. There were ashtrays filled with cigarette butts and there were always dishes in the sink left in water, presumably to soak, for days at a time. She had a cat named Lucy and its litter inevitably stank. Having grown up in homes that required so much order and structure, the wildness of Lisa’s home made me feel like I was in some kind of forbidden forest and Lisa was the wild woman of the woods.

She always had something to say about magic and the art of creating spells of our own to take back our power. “The thing is, you have to find a god and goddess that call to you.” Lisa gave praise to The Morrígan, a goddess that symbolized prophecy, war, and death on the battlefield and Cicolluis, the Irish god of war. “It’s all about who you have in your corner, Jamieson,” she said and handed me a book of gods and goddesses to look through. “It’s about who calls to you.”

“Well, you picked two Irish gods. Are you Irish?”

“Nope, but I love Irish whiskey.” She gave me a smile which I returned. “Magic and the gods don’t care about your nationality, where you came from, your social status, how much money you make or your gender and sexuality. They are more than that, you know?”

“I don’t actually,” I said.

“It’s okay, you will.” She started pulling books out from beneath piles of closes and shelves crammed full of books, bits of food, ashtrays and crystals. “You should learn about crystals, too. They come from the earth, and they are meant to help us find our way along wherever our path has taken us.”

“Why did you choose a god and goddess of war?” I asked after looking up her deities in the book.

“I told you that I’m a warrior witch. You are too.”

I wondered what horrors she had seen and what she had lived through. I looked at the book in my lap and its large compendium of gods and goddesses and wasn’t sure where to begin. “I don’t know anything about these people.” I said, shrugging. I was a little overwhelmed. “I have no idea where to begin.”

Lisa shrugged and lit a cigarette. She handed me the lighter and I lit my own. “Well, you have to just start delving in. Don’t get overwhelmed, this is the time for discovery. What kind of mysticism are you drawn to?”

I didn’t have to think about it. “I love Egyptology. I love the magic of that world.”

“Yeah, you do read with the Ancient Egyptian Tarot, I should have thought of that. There is a whole section in that book about the gods and goddesses of Egypt. See, if you look in the index, it’s broken down by alphabet and then by place in the world.”

“Do I have to choose right away?”

“No, and you can change who you pray to, it doesn’t have to always be the same. During my early hippie phase before I chose my warrior path, there were others that I prayed to. Devotion in Paganism isn’t a set thing. It’s fluid, like we are.”

I took the book home with me that evening and flipped through it before bed. I let the pages fall through my fingers and I wondered if I could hear the whispers of the gods that were contained in the book, ready to share their wisdom and help me find the way I was supposed to go. My small room didn’t seem so small when I was reading about lands from the past, peopled with the spirits of the old.

I had no idea where I was going, but I knew that light had started to burn brighter within me. The light continued to grow the more I continued to read and I wondered what direction my path would take now.

I was ready for what would come.