Tag: life

Chapter Nineteen – The Sun

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Tarot

I was at the Mission having lunch when I heard someone call out my brother’s name.

Turning automatically, I saw shock and knowing on the persons face. “Your him, but not him, aren’t you?”

“If you mean my brother, then yes and no.” I took in the sight of this man. He looked quite a few years older than me, mid thirties or so. His eyes were filled with curiosity and openness, which was rare. Almost all the people I had met here had storms in their eyes, having survived some kind of trauma and it left a mark on people. He had clouds in his eyes, but even from where I sat, when the clouds moved, I could see the light within him.

“I see that. You are less of a storm than he was and more of the sun.”

Beside me, Sunshine leaned forward. “My name is Sunshine, so what am I?”

The man blinked at him. “You are radiant, I think.”

“Oh, I like this guy.” Sunshine stage whispered to me.

“How long did you know my brother?”

The man shrugged. His hair was combed, and he had a bushel of a moustache and a thick grey beard. He reminded me of a librarian as he was wearing a cardigan and what looked like glasses hanging from a chain around his neck. “I knew him for some time. He was very kind to me on a few occasions and that’s not something you forget.

I thanked him and Sunshine and I finished our meal. As we were about to leave the table, the man called out to me. “I’m going to give you a piece of advice, young man. You need to look for what brings you joy. There is a storm brewing in you and I would hate for it to consume you.”

I shrugged. “I do have joy.” I looked over at Sunshine.

“You need a joy all your own. You can’t always depend on others to be around to keep your light alive.” He tapped my chest gently with the first two fingers of his right hand. “You need to find that joy and carry it in here. That will see you through.”

I thanked him, resisting the urge to give him a hug. I didn’t know if it was okay to hug strangers and I did want to hug him, but I resisted. Maybe he could see me hesitating because he took me in a soft and gentle hug. I let him hug me and I hugged him back. It was the first time that an older man had hugged me, and it brought me so much comfort instead of the fear that my father brought to life. He had never hugged me like this, simply for the sake of a hug. Every time that my father had come close, it had been to hurt, not to heal.

The man smelled of spicy aftershave and tobacco and I breathed that scent in. I’m not sure how long that hug went on for, only that for that moment, all that existed was that embrace. “You are braver than you know. Remember, joy is out there if you are willing to look for it.”

“Thank you,” I breathed. I blinked rapidly to keep the tears from falling.

Sunshine and I left the Mission and walked towards the YSB. I lit a cigarette, took a drag and handed it to him.

“That’s pretty amazing.”

“What is?”

“When everyday angels like that show up in your path.”

“What do you mean?”

“My mom always used to tell me about ordinary people that come into our paths just for an instant. They are supposed to bring us clarity, show us the road ahead or just help us in a moment of need.”

“Do you really think that’s what that man was? Some kind of angel?”

“Don’t you?” Sunshine said.

I thought about what the man had said. I needed to find my own joy in order to keep my light alive. I thought of the storm that had raged in my brother for as long as I’ve known him. It gave him the monicker of bad son and troublemaker, but I knew that what propelled him was a need to find out where his place was in this world and not being able to find a place for himself.

I was going through the same journey now and had to let go of the fear. I needed to remind myself that I had a lot to be joyful about. I had my street family, I had Sunshine, I had friends. I may not know where I was going, but I could see the road ahead of me more than I had been able to before.

There was joy to be found in that. I pictured a candle inside my chest right next to my heart. Its wick was lit with a small flame, a pinprick of light. It was a spark that had been given life inside of me. I cupped my hands around that small flame to keep it safe. I needed to shine my own light and every light began with a spark.

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 Fifteen – The Devil

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Tarot

You formed a lot of connections on the streets.

Its like anywhere, really. There are people in your life that are good for you, people that lift you up. There are also those that would take you down and try to keep you there. You had to watch yourself around those people. It didn’t matter where you were, there were always those that would try to hold you back.

However, there were other people that always had your back, the connection between you was more than friends; you were family.

It was like that with Sunshine.

His mother Sarah kept hinting that Sunshine and I should start dating, that we would make a cute couple. There were a lot of others that thought he and I were dating. I can honestly say that the thought never really crossed my mind. I didn’t think of him that way and he didn’t see me as a romantic prospect either. Yet, I loved him as if we were dating. He was my ride and die. Whether we were out together, or with a bunch of other family, he had become my touchstone. Sunshine filled my life with light. He lit up the lives of so many others around him. It was his way, and I was honoured to be part of his life. It was as simple as that.

Other connections weren’t as simple. We sat in our room, smoking and talking. Or rather, Sunshine talked with his new romantic interest. Shale had neon blue hair and pale skin and there was something exotic about him. He looked out at the world with an open curiosity. Right now, that curiosity was focused on Rainbow. They sat together in the window, and I watched the smoke from their cigarettes floating out into the night air. I wondered if the smoke contained their emotions or the words that remained unspoken between them. I could feel the palpable desire between the two of them. I felt like I was in the middle of something, even though I wasn’t sitting anywhere near them. I could see the connection between Sunshine and I, but I could see the new connection between Shale and him. It shone brighter than the stars in the night sky.

I excused myself quietly and went into the living room to sit and write, read, anything to distract myself from what was going on in the other room. Sunshine always opened his arms wide welcoming anyone into his bubble. I had the opposite problem.

Dan and Mike came into the kitchen looking for food. Dan was shirtless and there was a tattoo of a star on one of his elbows. “Why are you out here?”

Their cat Squeak came into the living room and when she saw me she gave a happy meow and got up on the couch and onto my lap. “Sunshine has company,” I told them.

            “I see! At least he’s being quiet this time.” Dan said. Then they heard a loud moan coming from Sunshine’s bedroom. “I spoke too soon.”

I looked at the connection that shone between the two of them. There was even a thin, sparkling chain that connected the three of us though they couldn’t bee it. It shone softly in the half light of the apartment.

“Want to see something naughty?” Mike said. “Come on.”

“What, you want to watch him again?” Dan said. “You know that he knows we’re watching.”

The cockroaches skuttled away from his with soft clicking as we made our way into the kitchen. “Come here,” Mike said. “Get a good view.” He motioned me to the window that we had in the kitchen. I went and stood between Mike and Dan and they guided my eyes to an apartment across the alleyway.

We could all see the man lying naked in his bed. I could see the glow of the television on his body and watched as he played with his hard cock. He was well built and hairy and gorgeous to take in. I looked in shock at Mike and Dan.

“Does he do this a lot?” I asked.

“Almost every night since we moved here.”

The man across the way gave us all a quick look as if he could hear us whispering. The man gave us a wink and began to stroke himself. He knew he had an audience now and he was enjoying the show. I wondered what it would be like to be free enough to show myself in such a way instead of holding myself together so tightly.

As the man in the room across the alleyway worked himself towards finishing up, Mike moved closer to Dan and Dan put his arm around my shoulder. We stood there looking at someone in the throws of pleasure, a thin chain stretching across the alleyway to man who lay naked on his bed, all connected in that moment of carnal lust.

The air was alive with heat and the promise of something more. I could feel Squeak rubbing at my legs and I picked her up, knowing that I was connected to her at that moment, too. I listened to the moans coming from the bedroom closest to us and the bedroom across the alleyway and it sounded like some kind of beautiful music of lust and longing.

I lay there on the living room couch afterwards, filled with both.

Chapter Twelve – The Hanged Man

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide

It was different living with other people.

I had chosen to cut myself off from everything I known by leaving home at sixteen and had everything taken from me a year later. I had thought I would have to do everything on my own. My brother had taught me that all you had on the streets was yourself and I had prepared myself for this. I hadn’t expected to be held up by so many others having been used to and ready to do everything for myself.

Dan and Mike didn’t say much, but they were kind to me in a detached sort of way. We would eat together in the mornings with Rainbow. I could hear the cockroaches scuttle away from us as we entered the kitchen and turned on the light in the morning.

“Scary fucking things,” Dan said as he looked at them click and clack away from us. Some mornings, it was like a small wave of them, fleeing from our step like a dark wave along the floors. “It’s like they just realized that it’s last call at the fucking bar and they don’t want to end up alone tonight.”

“It’ll be one hell of an orgy.” Mike said.

I let out a snort and Dan gave Mike a scowl. “Must you?” Dan said, making a gagging gesture. “Now I have to think about one nut Louie dancing at the bar, looking to get laid. I have to think about that often enough.”

They both seemed kind of exotic to me. It’s like they had this language between the two of them. According to Rainbow, one of them didn’t want to be out of the closet yet, but they seemed to be so comfortable with each other. Maybe that’s what it’s all about, I thought. Finding that one person that matched you, even for an instant. I looked at Mike and Dan and tried to imagine them as puzzle pieces; did they fit together? I tried to see if I could spot the lines between them, if they flowed together or if someone had forced the puzzle piece into the puzzle in the wrong place only to realize that it belonged somewhere else.

They had a cat. It was a sweet grey and white conk of a kitty, and she was a friend to everyone. I had never been able to have a cat of my own before and I loved cats. Thankfully, Squeak liked me a lot and I was so happy to have her company when Mike and Dan were around. She was like a mom to all of us boys and would help us chase away the cockroaches when she saw them.

It was hard for me to live with others. Even before I had found myself on the streets, I didn’t make friends with people very easily. I had been hurt so much in life, and I had to do everything myself anyways. I had known a few good friends, but that was it. It was easier than letting people in and I wanted to protect them from getting hurt. I was so used to thinking of others first and keeping myself away from them. It was what I had learned from my father. He had taught me to stay far away so that I could avoid a fist but to keep the peace if I could. I was taught to placate, soothe and provide calm so that I could step away and hide my wounds.

            Words were my friends. If I read and kept to myself, I didn’t get hurt. Plus, I could become friends with the characters in books and lose myself in their worlds. In these worlds, good usually won over evil or those that caused harm got their comeuppance. I have written since I was young because I had to. It was as necessary as breathing to me. As much as I lost myself in the word of others, I have always found myself in the words that I write.

Now here I was living with three other men and we got along better than just Shades and I had been able to. I was being given a different perspective of living with others that wanted to know me and didn’t want to hurt me. I didn’t need to pull myself away from them to avoid getting hurt. I wasn’t used to that. I had been taught to hide myself and what I was, that being gay and disabled was shameful thing, and yet none of these people cared that I was either. I felt the walls start that I kept around myself start to go down.

I watched the smoke from my cigarette flow out of the window pictured the wall around me slip away one brick at a time, so that I could start letting people in. It would take time, that it would be difficult, but I finally knew a truth:

If I let go of the wall, maybe I could finally be able to breathe. I had been holding my breath in fear for so long. What if I didn’t have to?

Chapter Eleven – Justice

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide

There was a justice on the street that hadn’t been in my life before.

In my life that had been, bullies sometimes went unchecked, those that were different were hurt and often there was no way to find retribution. The street held a kind of law and an unspoken rule of conduct. If someone was down, you held them up. It someone had been hurt by someone else, you stood up for them. I’d come to realize in a short time that you protected those that you were close to. It was just something you did without thinking about it.

Fast friendships formed and these people cemented themselves into your life and it was like you knew them right away. It was like this with Angel. I hadn’t known her at all when I had first met her, but now I searched her out whenever I was at YSB or the square. She filled my life with light, and I tended to gravitate towards it, not to drink from it but so I could bask in her glow.

It was healing to be next to her and her warmth filled over into my life. She would often draw her chalk art on the pavement of the square and put a hat out to collect change. Her art was so beautiful and lifelike that it looked like it could rise up out off the pavement and come to life. I was amazed that she could create such beautiful art with chalk on something as hard and unfriendly as the pavement. It seemed like a wonderful kind of balance whenever Angel worked the chalk into the cold pavement and brought it to life. Angel found life in the world that hadn’t been there before, and I marveled as I watched her work.

“Did you want to write something?” She asked.

I shrugged. “Well, nothing I write will be as good as your art.”

She stopped drawing and gave me a stern look. “Don’t say that. You’re a beautiful writer and your poetry is incredible. Why don’t you write a poem to go with my drawing. You can take your time with it. Here,” she handed me a piece of white chalk

I held it for a moment, watching her bring a woman to life within a forest of leaves. She looked out at me from within the window that Angel had created for her, and I could see her looking up at me. I looked into the woman’s eyes and began to write her story, scratching the white chalk onto the pavement.

I watched as both of our creations came to life together, my words taking inspiration from her. “She looks like she’s looking up at me from behind a window.” I told her. “Or like she’s outside looking within.”

Angel nodded and worked window lines in front of the chalk woman’s face. Only a few lines had been added, but it brought the chalk painting alive for me, made the final words of my poem come out and tumble from my fingers.

“There,” Angel said. We sat back and looked at our piece of art, my words a balance to her world of colours. I hadn’t noticed, but the amount of money in the hat had grown quite a bit. When the day was over, Angel handed me half.

“I can’t take that,” I said. “I wrote my poem for fun.”

“I painted my lady in the window for fun, too. We both worked hard in our own way and should both get paid for what we made. Fuck, I made more today than had it just been me painting. We helped each other.” She put the money into my hand and folded my fingers over it. “I mean, you didn’t see the people going to walk by my art, but they stopped to read your words and what you had written. We did it together, Jamie.”

We gathered up our windfall and headed towards McDonalds on Rideau Street. We could treat ourselves to something. I usually got a Fillet o’Fish and Angel would get nuggets or a Big Mac. We could eat in the restaurant and be near a washroom, pretend that we were normal, just for a moment.

I remember getting our food and thinking about the poem I had written. Eventually, both the drawing and my poem would be gone, never to exist again. It’s not like Angel and I could take a copy of her drawing, and I hadn’t thought to write down a copy of the words I had left behind.

I was okay with that.

It was our give to those that had given us the money we had in our pockets. The art and the words belonged to them, and we had left our magic in the streets. I wondered if others would be guided by the flash of the woman’s blue eyes or the curve of the vowels I had penned.

In that moment, I thought of the chalk dust we had marked the pavement with like stars, waiting to lead others to where they would find their magic.