Tag: Memoir

Chapter Fifty-Nine – Page of Swords

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

I lost myself to the night.

I could hear the fire and drumming behind me as I walked the pathways to my tent. The release at the fire had left me revitalized but also exhausted. I had been holding on to so much that it was a blessing to let go. At the same time, I wanted to fill the empty parts of me with something so that I didn’t feel so empty.

Strolling without any purpose, it was a while before I noticed the footsteps behind me. “Jamison, hold up.”

Turning, I saw that it was a man I had seen around the Pagan brunches named Soph. He had always been nice to me. He had shoulder length brown hair and kind brown eyes. As he made his way towards me, I saw that he had dressed for the fire. He was wearing a sarong with a belt fastened around his waist. From the belt came the sound of bells as he ran. The sarong was a rust-colour that took on the colour of the night and his flashlight as he made his way toward me. He had painted his upper body in sparkles. As he came closer to me, he slowed down and smiled at me, his teeth looking bright in the light from my flashlight.

“Jamieson, hi.”

“Hi Soph.”

“I saw you leave the fire. Want to go for a walk?”

“Sure,” I said. My walls were down and gone again and I was afraid of what that would mean for me. I was curious to know what Soph wanted from me; we had barely spoken a few words to each other. I don’t think he realized how much I said in that one word. I reminded myself that not everyone was there to hurt me unless I let them.

“Cool,” he said.

Reaching out he took my hand and I let him. It was the first time that I had let another man hold my hand or get that close to me since Francis. It felt good just to let someone get that close to me, especially since I now had little standing in the way between the two of us.

We let our flashlights light up the path in front of us. We could hear the sounds of water lapping against the rocks nearby and I could hear our breathing, the crickets in the plants that lines the path. The sound of my heartbeat got louder in my ears, and I wondered if Soph could hear it too. Every time I looked over at him, he smiled and I felt myself smiling back, despite my fear.

We stopped walking and Soph pointed up to the leaves of the trees. “See?” he said. “The moon is full. We always try to have the fire dancing at the same time as the full moon. That way people can really let go and if they fuck up and get stupid, they can just say that the moon made them do it.”

I laughed despite myself. The joke had caught me so unawares and it was so true. I had witnessed many people hooking up around the fire. “I wonder if they’ll remember.”

Soph let out a snort. “Maybe not…” He looked uncomfortable for a second before speaking again. “I want to remember this night. It must be the fire, but I can’t believe that I’m being brave enough to speak to you.”

It was my turn to feel uncomfortable. I scuffed my feet in the dirt. “What do you mean? You could have just talked to me anytime.”

“Yeah, but you’re so…you.” I looked at him with confusion, and he ran his hands through his hair and but his bottom lip. His eyes looked wide in the light from our flashlights. “That didn’t come out right.”

“It’s okay,” I said.

“No, it’s not. I mean, crap. Let me start again.” Taking a deep breath, he took my free hand again and held onto it. “I’ve liked you for ages. Then you got with Francis and I should have spoken up or said something before now. And now you’re sad and I can’t stand it.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I listened to the water for a moment and the sound of our breathing. I could feel Soph’s heartbeat in his fingers and his heart was beating quickly. Mine matched his and I was able to listen to my heart beating in tandem with his.

The fact that he would feel this way about me floored me. I never considered that people I didn’t know very well had chosen to like me even though we hadn’t shared a conversation. “Thanks,” I told him. I meant to stop there, but my mind had other ideas. “But you don’t need to worry about me.”

He shook his head. “I’m always going to worry about the people I like.” He paused and took in a breath that looked to contain courage because he forged on despite his nervousness. “I like you, Jamieson.”

We shared a kiss under the moonlight. His lips were completely unlike Francis’. Soph’s lips were soft and welcoming, and we explored the depths of each other with our tongues. For a moment, I had a notion that I was being unfaithful to Francis.

Soph must have felt something in my lips or intuitively felt something because he pulled back from me slightly. “I just want to give you a different perspective on things. You need to remember that you are beautiful. I want to help you remember that.”

I almost shrunk back from him. It was in that moment I realized how much damage Francis had done and how much self-doubt that he had left me with. I had been making it myself, building the chains one link at a time. If I squinted my eyes and looked to the left and right of me, I could see the rows of chains the dirt path, snaking their way behind us.

“I’d like that,” I said. He must have head my heartbeat increase because he smiled at me and his teeth flashed in the darkness, the light from our flashlights lighting the way back to his tent. I took his hand and let him lead me to his tent.

He entered the tent before me and I followed. I turned to zip the tent and could see a flash of metal, the chains had fallen away. I zipped the tent closed and turned my mind to other things and the gentle hands of a man who only wanted to make me feel beautiful.  

Chapter Fifty-Eight – 10 of Swords

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

That night, I found myself by the fire.

We had set up our tents and cooked our food. It was a communal affair, people that Lisa and Sophie knew stopping by the fire to say hello and share food. Others would come and share their mead with us or a cigarette. The sound of fires crackling mingled with the low music of people talking. The fire of voices could be heard as everyone enjoyed their food and the joy of being together.

It was unlike any experience with food I’ve ever had. Normally, food was a means to an end to fill a void when I noticed that it was there. I had gotten so used to not eating enough. I didn’t need to. This was the first time that I realized food could be healing. More than the food, it was the people who made it and shared it with us. We shared with those that stopped by our campsite. It wasn’t much, just a spare piece of chicken or a toasted bun, perhaps a cigarette to help the words flow past the lips, but that wasn’t the point.

Every meal was like this, the entire camp taking the time to really eat, share and palaver. With each meal, a part of me was able to let go of one of the bricks that I carried with me. I watched as each person that sought use out and shared food with us took a brick from my wall. Each would make something different with the bricks; in their hand, one of the pieces of my wall would become a piece of food to give to another, or a cigarette that would send the smoke to the sky that was darkening as the day went on.

I watched as stars began to appear and I had never seen them shine so brightly. Living in the city, I could see them, but a lot of the time there was this film of fog over them. Here, in the arms of nature, the stars could show me how beautiful they really were. I don’t know if it was the lack of pollution or the magic in the air, but the stars were lit from within. They were jewels in the sky and thought I would be able to just reach up into the black velvet sky and pluck one to keep with me.

I could smell fire.  Lisa tool hold of my hand and said two words. “It’s time.”

I knew that she spoke of the fire. She had told me all about it as we planned and packed and during the ride up in the car to the island. “It’s this primal force, Jamieson. Imagine a fire as big fire, at least twenty feet across. Hundreds of people dancing around it as groups of others play their drums! Picture it, Jamieson! You have never seen anything like it!”

And indeed, I hadn’t. Though Lisa, Sophie, Fox and Jenn had given me their impressions of the fire, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw as we rounded the turn in the dirt path and came upon the fire. It seemed bigger than what I had imagined, impossibly big and I could see sparks that filled up the night sky, dancing with the stars.

I could hear a wind that spoke higher than the fire. It called to me, welcomed me to fire and the flames danced higher as the breeze took hold of the flames. I was pulled by it into the crowd of people already circling the fire. They had painted their bodies with sparkly paint, draped feathers in their hair and had hung bells around their necks and writs. One woman had painted over her nipples with red and gold sparkles. She had red hair and it reflected the actual flames in front of her it looked as if her hair was made of fire. She held out a hand to and I took it. I took it, knowing that I was making a choice.

I took her hand, knowing that it would leave me changed. I didn’t want to run from myself anymore. The smoke, flame and the music of people’s voices were a music to me that was soon joined by the sound of more drums. I swirled into the flow of the people, the light turning all of us into spirits, made of wind, fire and flame. The light transformed mc in that moment; as I danced, I moved with the others and let myself feel the thrill of the music. I danced and moved with the others, others singing out loud with the music, filling the air with magic and sound.

I lost myself to the beat and the thrum of the drums, the feeling of the air moving around me. I let myself be free of the weight I was carrying and the need to keep myself separate from everyone else as if there was something wrong with me. Someone handed me a bottle of mead, and I took a health swig of the liquid before handing it back with thanks.

I danced so that I could be free enough to fly. I gave myself over to the air and release what was holding me back. I let my mind go and soon, there was only the dance and the beat that moved me. Looking up into the night sky, I saw the stars playing hide and seek with the smoke from the fire and I knew that I would be okay.

Chapter Fifty-Seven – 9 of Swords

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

My first impression of Kaleidoscope was one of joy.

When our car drove up to the camping site, there were already hundreds of people that had arrived earlier that day. They milled about in the hot summer sun wearing whatever they pleased. There were men wearing dresses and skirts, women wearing leather and others wearing loin cloths and sandals. Others were wearing feather boas with sparkle paint all over their bodies and they glittered in the sun. I watched them move and the blinking of the sun made it look as if they were filled with light.

I heard people calling out to each other and I wanted to jump out of the car and throw myself into this world at the same time that I wanted to hide away in the car. The will to experience the rhythm won out and I knew that I wanted to lose myself in the crowd.

My body was vibrating with possibility and the smoke coming from my cigarette was dancing with the music I could hear in the air. As we parked, I opened the car door and stepped out into summer heat, I could hear drum music playing somewhere in the distance, the sound of people talking and somewhere nearby, a person singing along with the beat of the drums. The air around me was filled with magic. The chill that had been within me since Francis melted a little as I stood there letting the sun shine down on me.

Soon, we had gathered all of our bags and food and were trying to find our way in what was known as tent city. I felt disoriented by the sea of coloured surfaces, walkways and paths. I kept looking around me, trying to commit everything to memory.

“Don’t worry,” Lisa said. “You’ll get used to it. By the end of the week, you will be able to find your way from the swimming hole back to the tent. I know it doesn’t seem like it now but trust me. The land here takes care of us if we take care of it.”

Lisa had found me a space near her tent. That way, we could wake and make breakfast over the open fire together. Lisa’s boyfriend Carl had arrived before us and had chosen a really wonderful group of plots that were close to the portable toilets. “This is where you want to be,” Lisa said. “Trust me, you don’t want to be trying to find the washroom in the dark when you gotta go. This here is prime real estate.”

I hadn’t camped such a long time. Lisa had lent me nearly everything. I had a tent that would old three people, a lantern to keep the tent lit and to help me find my way to the washroom and an extra flashlight. I had brought my book, a journal and a few pens and my roll of foam. It had provided me comfort for so long and it was nice to have a touchstone, something that had provided me comfort for so long.

I didn’t do well with fear and I was terrified. I didn’t know what was involved in a spiritual reset, but I knew that it was going to happen here, I just didn’t know what it would involve. Even though I was afraid, I had to try and see this through.

After setting up my tent and laying out my foam and sleeping bag, I changed out of my jeans and into a sarong, a flowing piece of fabric that I wrapped around myself like a towel. Sophie had said that Pagan people could be a little bit freer on the island. I figured I was willing to ty anything once. I came out of my tent, my sarong fluttering in the breeze and my purse comfortable. It carried my wallet. Lisa said she saved all year for Kaleidoscope. “There are vendors all over the place, Jamieson. There are the mead people who make and sell their own mead. They’re always popular, but there are all sorts of craftspeople. Some of them make charms, cloaks and wands, jewelry and headpieces. There are all kinds of different foods on offer, too. Think of it like an open-air market. I found the most amazing oracle deck here once. Have you ever used Medicine Cards? I got my deck here two years ago with the bear claw pendant I wear.” I had seen the pendant shaped like a bear paw that hung next to her pentagram. “They sell all kinds of things here. You never know what you’ll find.”

I was hoping to find myself. I had lost or given away pieces of who I was. If I stood still long enough in the sunshine, the light would find its way through the cracks of me. If I looked down at my body, I could see the fissures and fault lines shining gold.

We walked along the main road of the campsite that threaded its way through the entire place. The vendors were set up there underneath the trees so that they were in the shade. Lisa introduced me to all kinds of people that I had never met before and even a few people that I had met but didn’t know too well. It was overwhelming to meet so may people and try to remember so many names, but I knew that I would remember most of them eventually.

Like the land, the people here would become familiar after a time. I just wondered when that would be. I tried to let the wall that I carried around with myself down a little. I had visions of having no wall at the end of the week. I didn’t know if that would happen, but I could dream. Even though the wall hurt me to carry, I had to keep a piece of it. I could never give all of myself to anyone else. Francis had taught me that I had to keep a piece of myself hidden within the depths of who I was.

As I walked along the path where the vendors were, taking in the sights of what was on offer, talking to the other people I met, I imagined that I was leaving a trail of blood behind me, the drops looking like rubies in the sunlight.

Chapter Fifty-One – 2 of Swords

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

I was holding on to so much lately.

I wanted more. I looked around me and all I saw was Lisa’s stuff covering every surface. Nothing in here was mine except for the backpack that I carried with me It still held my tarot cards, my alarm clock that I had taken with me when I first ended up on the streets, what clothes I had, and my journals and pieces of paper covered in my writing. Although I had gathered a few more things such as necklaces and rings, Pagan books and worry stones that I carried in my pocket, I still wanted more.

I wanted more than what this life was offering me. I was struggling with this idea though. I had found myself on the streets and had built some kind of life for myself. Looking back at my past and the world I had lived in before, I couldn’t deny that it held some kind of appeal to me. I wanted something of my own. It felt like I was holding on to two halves of myself: the me from before and who I was now, and I was trying to make peace with both sides of me.

When I brought this up with Francis, he had a look of relief on his face. “I’m happy to hear you say that you want more out of life.” He pulled me into a hug and I breathed in his scent. He smelled like the woods after a rainfall, both musky and fresh. “This is amazing news.”

I shrugged and looked at his eyes. The storm was still calm within him. The seas within his eyes looked dead quiet. “It feels like I’m selling out.”

“Because you don’t want to spend the rest of your life on welfare?”

I shook my head. “Lisa says that true Pagans don’t value money. That if I remained true to my spirit, I would be content with what I have.”

Letting out a laugh, Francis pulled me closer. We lay on his bed, the television playing softly in the background. He ran his hands through my hair as he spoke and I could feel his voice reverberating through his chest. “Well, I like Lisa, but she’s full of crap. I work for a living and I pay rent. Being Pagan doesn’t mean you have to be poor and having money doesn’t mean that you have less of a connection to your spirit.” He said softly.

“It doesn’t?”

“No, it doesn’t. It’s okay to want to have a different life, Jamieson. It’s okay to want more from the life that you’re currently living and find your way as your true self.”

I shrugged again. “I don’t know who that is anymore.”

“Of course you do. You’re the person that I love. You are kind to a fault; you give before you ask for anything from anyone. You are a light in the lives of so many others. You’re a brilliant writer, an incredible lover and you don’t value yourself enough.”

“Well, that’s you. You’re my boyfriend. You have to say that.”

“No, I don’t. Frankly, hearing you want more out of your life than living on welfare brings me so much relief.” He stroked my hair again. “It means that I don’t have to worry and that you’ll be okay.”

I sat up and looked at him. “What do you mean by that?”

When he looked at me, the storm in his eyes showed a momentary surge of waves and I could hear the water crashing into the rocks. I watched as Francis controlled the waves and the water grew still again with only the rings of ripples in the water to show me that the waves had even happened at all.

“I just worry about you. Spending all your time with Lisa and her friends. There are so many people in the world that you haven’t met yet and you are just at the beginning of your journey.” He leaned forward to kiss me softly. “You just have so much to discover. Don’t sell yourself short, Jamieson. You have a gift you have to give to the world. Don’t let Lisa or anyone else in the world tell you any different.”

We lay there, the television switching to a cop drama. Francis and I watched it, but I could hear the waves splashing against the rocks again. The sound lulled me to sleep and I felt the water lapping at my feet, the wind ruffling my hair and I wondered if I had ever been so happy as I was in this moment with my past behind me and my future waiting for me to claim it.

Chapter Forty -One – 6 of Cups

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

It was fascinating to be with someone who wanted to be with me.

That was one of the first emotions that came to mind when I thought of Francis. When we walked together, waited for the bus or we were at one of the Pagan brunches, Francis made room for me. I could see him lowering his walls just as I was lowering mine. It was never a thought that it was possible to love someone so effortlessly. I had never experienced this and it was so new to me. I felt included in his life and everyone I knew already knew Francis. It was a seamless transition from caterpillar to butterfly. The transition was not painful as I had wanted to be free of my cocoon for long.

I was still afraid, though. Francis held my heart in his hands, and it had been a long time since I had trusted another man to hold my heart carefully. I loved him despite that fear. I adored him because I was afraid. A small part of me even feared the love that Francis and I shared together because of everything that had happened in my past. I loved him with an open heart and wanted to hide and be seen by him at the same time. It was like I was walking an internal tight rope, and I had no idea where it would end.

Francis showed me that there was nothing to hide from. When I was with him, I remembered what joy was. I loved him so completely. Lisa and I would talk about it when I wasn’t with him. One night, we were getting ready for sleep. Lisa was lying on her bed smoking a cigarette and I was on my foam roll doing the same thing. From my vantage point on the ground looking up at Lisa’s ceiling, the smoke looked like clouds. I pretended we were on a raft floating along the water, letting ourselves flow towards the future.

“You don’t have to be afraid, you know.”

I perched on an elbow and looked at Lisa. “What do you mean? I’m not afraid.”

“You forget how well I know you.” She gave me a gentle smile. “You don’t have to go back there, Jamieson. I know you hold on to every slight and every slap you’ve ever received. People like you always do. I’m Warrior because I want what I wasn’t given and now I just fucking take it. You’re a Warrior because you love so much. Your heart is in everything you do and say. You walk around offering it to others every time you speak even though you’ve been hurt to the breaking point and still you offer your heart, but at the same time, you’re afraid. Francis isn’t like the other fuckers you dated. He’s not your father. He’s different, Jamieson.”

My nineteen-year-old heart swelled with hope and with love as I pictured Francis in my mind. I was standing with him and my heart swelled even more when I looked at him and took in the shape of his eyes crinkled because his lips were shaped in a smile as he looked at me. I could hear the rush of water again, the waves sending water into the boat. I looked around us and held on tighter to Francis, but I loosened my grip. I didn’t want to hurt him or hang on too tightly. I was afraid that he might turn away from me if I did that.

When I opened my eyes, Lisa had turned her head to look at me. “I keep over analysing everything,” I told her. “My heart, mind and spirit are open to him, they are giving and receiving love, but I am afraid, Lisa. What if I fuck this up?”

“The way that Francis looks at you, I’m sure that’s never going to happen.”

“But what if it does?”

“So, it does. You’ll do what you always do, pick yourself up and get on with it, but you need to move on from all the worry. Just because Francis carries a lot of pain doesn’t mean you need to. You can’t love someone with one of your feet stuck in the past, Jamieson. If you love Francis, love him without the fear.”

I thought for a moment about what Lisa had said, looking at the smoke as it swirled above my head. I blew out smoke rings, trying to see if I could join the smoke that came from the burning cigarette with the smoke that came from my mouth. I watched intently for a moment, and the smoke looked like it was in a casual dance, melding and shifting with each other, before rising out of my sight. I noticed something though. When the smoke rings I sent up to the sky joined with the smoke from my cigarette, they each grew stronger, even if only for a moment. The smoke grew thicker and when they separated, they each took a bit from each other before moving onward.

I knew that Lisa was right. I had been afraid for so much of my life before now that fear had become the only thing I knew completely. I carried my fear and the pain that had caused it, and they were my constant companions. No matter where I roamed over the waters, fear had become my anchor, my pain an oar. I knew that I was letting my fear hold me back. I could love someone completely but still be afraid that they would cause me more pain. I didn’t want to find my direction in life because of the pain it had caused me.

“How do I let go of all of that?” I said this more to the smoke than Lisa. I felt the smoke would have a kinder response than she would. The smoke would probably say something mysterious and alluring. Lisa would deliver her advice in her typical bluntness. She was wise, but she did not mince words.

“By choosing to,” Lisa said. “You’re the one that controls your destiny, Jamieson. Where do you want to go? You need to pick your direction and head that way. Sometimes you have to let go of things when you choose a different direction.”

“What if it hurts?”

She let out a snort and a puff of smoke at the same time that made Lisa look like she was some of dragon. “Of course it’s going to hurt, Jamieson. That’s the point of growth. If our journey had no fucking pain, it would not be worth it. You’ve had more than your share of pain. It’s time to let some of it go.”

I closed my eyes and Francis was beside me again. The waters around us calmed and the boat that we rode in stopped rocking back and forth. I reached out to put my arm around him and pulled him close. I felt Francis put his arm around me and I looked forward to see where the waters would take us. I let out a puff of smoke and the water rippled, reflecting the sun as it shone down at us.

I opened my eyes and tried to let a bit of the pain go. It wasn’t much, but it was a start and that had to count for something.