Tag: Opportunity

Chapter Seventy-Two – Page of Pentacles

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

“I just don’t know what to do,” I said. “I can’t go back there, but I need a place of my own.”

I had crashed at Rhonda’s. I had taken my bag and my roll of foam from Lisa’s place as soon as I had gotten home from the hospital with Lisa, Rosilind and Carl. Carl would be staying with Lisa so that she would have help with the baby. When Lisa saw me with my backpack slung on shoulder, the roll of foam tucked into the other strap, she pointed at the front door.

“Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out,” she said, wiggling her fingers at me.

No word of thanks for helping her through the birth of her daughter, not that I expected any. I left without any clear path of where I was going to go, knowing only that I had to leave. I knew that I was heading towards something new and that it would give me the opportunity to discover more about myself, but I had no idea how I was going to get there.

Rhonda had waved my concerns away. “Didn’t I tell you that I had a plan?” She lit my cigarette and then hers. She ripped off a paper from a pad and handed it to me. “I’m just happy you’re away from her. That’s the part that matters most.”

“I don’t think she treated me that badly.”

“You can’t see it, you’re too close to her. It’s like that with abusers. You need to get away from them to appreciate that. She’s bad people, Jamieson. Bad people will always be attracted to good people like you.”

She huffed out a plume of smoke and took a sip of her coffee. “The important thing is that you’re out from under her influence and you have the opportunity to go forward.”

“Yeah, but go forward where? I don’t have anywhere to live.”

“That never stopped you before. Besides, didn’t I tell you that I had a plan? Come on, finish your coffee. We gotta take a walk.”

I did as I was told and couldn’t help but wonder where this new path would take me. I felt lighter. The day was bright with the rusty smell of sunshine and fallen leaves, and I could hear the wind whisper to me as I made my way outside. I was filled not the urge to run, but the need to take in everything I saw. I knew that my life was about to change again, and I welcomed that change, whatever it may bring.

We walked into the Glebe. It felt odd being back here. I knew that my mom and stepdad were nearby and I had no wish to see them. I didn’t know what I would say to them if I saw them, but Rhonda took me beyond where their house was on Sunnyside to a side street named Monk Street. We stopped in front of a large grey Victorian house covered in vines of ivy that looked impossibly big and small at the same time, as if it held onto the many things that were possible all at once. It looked like a house that was home to witches, and I wondered what magic it contained. “What’s this place?”

“You’re new home, if you like it. Hold on a sec, here she is.”

A woman was coming down the front steps to greet us. I recognized her as the woman that I had danced with in front of the fire at Kaleidoscope. She had been the one who had painted her breasts in swirls of red and silver so that she would like the fire. I remember how wild and free she was and the smile with the glint in her eyes showed me that she had not changed.

“Jamieson!” she said, giving a hug. “I’m so glad that Rhonda and I talked. Did you know that a room just became available!” She pulled away from the hug and gave me a bright smile. “I’m Catherine.”

I was so starstruck by her. She seemed to shine as brightly as she had when we danced with our spirits that night. I wasn’t sure how to respond to such brightness. My words got frazzled and dazzled inside my mind. “You look at lot different with clothes on.” I said and mentally slapped myself for being so blunt. “I’m sorry.”

Catherine let out laugh that sounded like music. “I get that a lot.” She said. “So do you, from what I remember.” She gave me a wink. “Come on, let me introduce you to Ned. He’s like the super of the house, but I had him hold the room for you when Rhonda told me that you needed a new place to stay.”

She brought us into the house, and I was struck by the fact that the outside didn’t match the inside. The outside was painted completely grey and it seemed to be designed to blend right in and not be noticed. The inside was all warm wooden floors, cream-coloured walls and a banister that had been painted a bright white to match. She brought us to a room just off of the kitchen and nocked on the door.

Opening the door, Ned greeted us with a smile and glasses that were perched on the end of his nose that made his eyes seem impossibly small. I felt a stirring at my feet, and I looked down to see a black cat rubbing itself against my leg. Without thinking, I reached down to pick the cat up and it nestled into my arms, purring loudly.

“Bell likes you,” Catherine said. “That’s a good sign.”

“Bell?”

“As in Bell, Book and Candle. I have three black cats. I wanted to name them something witchy.”

“And they manage not to be too much of a nuisance, unlike you.” Ned said with a smile at Cathine and holding out a hand to me. His hand enveloped mine in a warm handshake and his black hair fell into his eyes. “Catherine said you’re looking for a place. We’ve only the one room, but it’s better than a kick in the head. Come on, I’ll show you.”

We all went up the stairs together, with Ned first, me following behind him and Catherine and Rhonda bringing up the rear. Each step we made created music in the old wooden stairs, creaks and groans that only an old house could make. Listening to the music that it made, it sounded like the house was happy that I was here. Each creak sounded joyful, each sigh sounded content.

Ned explained that there were four floors in the house: main, second and attic with a basement. This house had been an old Victorian mansion at one point in its life, and he said that most of the wood was original to the home. There was a total of seven rooms, plus the kitchen, living room and dining room. “We don’t have a lot of turn over here, not like regular boarding houses. Catherine herself has been here for a few years. Rent is your standard welfare cheque, but we can work that out later. Wait till you see the room.”

I could hear the music growing with each step we took upwards, the voices of other people talking and the light sound of a guitar being played that joined the music of the house itself. When we reached the second floor, Ned turned and walked own to the end of the hallway. The bathroom was there and the walls had been done in a royal blue with the sinks and bathtub in white ceramic. “There’s only one bathroom I’m afraid. I’ve asked the landlord to put in another, but they don’t want to ruin the house, so we’re going back and forth on it. Good thing is, your room is right here, if you want it.”

He opened the door directly adjacent to the washroom and stepped into a room that was at the back of the house. I wasn’t prepared for the fact that is had a window, and it was a large bright space, perfect for bed and maybe somewhere to sit. It even had its own closet, and most important part was that it had a door. “Does the door lock?”

“Yes, it does. You’d have one key and I’d have the other, just in case there was some kind of emergency. I’d never go into your room without your permission.”

I had a momentary flashback to Joey, the man that had run the boarding house on Arlington. “I’ll take it if you will have me.”

“Wait, you haven’t seen the best part yet, go on and open that door beside the window.”

I walked to the door and took the antique doorknob in hand and pulled opened the door expecting to see a closet, but what I saw was so much more than that: It was a whole other room. Three of the walls only went up part of the way as the rest of the space was taken up by windows.

I walked into the room and turned around so that I could take it all in. The wall with the door was red brick, but it was the windows that drew me. They looked out over a small garden in the backyard and there were vines of ivy covering the corners of the windows. I turned back to Ned, and he could see my shock that must have been written on my face. “This would have been the old sunroom of the house. The landlord didn’t want to split these up, so if you take this room, you’ll get this one, too. It’s a little cold in the winter, but the walls are insulated. Past tenants have put up curtains to keep the warmth in.”

I nodded. I looked at Rhonda and she gave me a thumbs up. I turned back to look at the garden down below and thought of the seeds that I could plant here. It was a place where I would not have to hide in the dirt. I could grow here and hopefully thrive.

“When can I move in?” I asked Ned.

Chapter Sixty-Three – Ace of Pentacles

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

The wind smelled of promise.

I could smell the earth in the breeze, the scent of grass and manure as we drove by a farm. Lisa and I rode home to Ottawa with Sophie, Fox and Jenn and it felt great to be part of a group that had through such a major shift. I know that I wasn’t the only one who felt changed by the week we had spent on the island.

“It is like this every time?” I asked Lisa.

She nodded. “We all come away learning something new about ourselves. I often find that after Kaleidoscope, I always end up finding myself on some journey that I wasn’t expecting, only because I was shown the way.”

“My only advice,” Sophie said, speaking up. “Is to follow it. You never know where it will take you and what you will learn.”

“I thought the spiritual shift was supposed to happen at Kaleidoscope.” I tried to keep the doubt out of my voice. I was beginning to realize that magic had a way about itself that always kept me guessing. I wondered if that was part of allure to magic, trying to make sense out of the unsensible.

I stuck my hand out of the window and let it fly along on the breeze. I wondered what journey I was heading towards and where my spirit would ty to take me. I could smell the earth again and wondered what seeds I wanted to grow for myself. I kept coming back to the face that though I was thankful for a space in Lisa’s home, I still wanted more. I pictured myself planting seeds in the soil that we drove by so that by the time we were home, they would begin to grow, having a home of my own, a place where I could lock the door and feel that it was mine. I had never had that. I had not felt at home when I lived with my father and stepmother and towards the end, I hadn’t been welcomed in my mother and stepfather’s place. At University, I had been a fish out of water, and I didn’t know how to swim or catch my breath. I had come out of the closet at university and didn’t know what home was, let alone who I was. There had been little aside from the friends I had known that had felt like home. I didn’t have to think very long about what I would wish for.  

I’d love a home of my own. I said this to myself as I held my hand outside the window. I closed my fingers in a lose fist and when I relaxed my fingers, I could see seeds glowing within my palm. Relaxing my hand, I let go of the seed, the sunlight hitting them for a moment before they disappeared.

There had to be more than living on someone’s floor. I was tired of my roll of foam, even though it had been through a lot with me. That wish that I’d had back when I was with Francis flared to life again. I wanted more. I wanted a home for myself, a space where I could have my own furniture, a kitchen where I could make food. I wanted a bed.

I’d love a home of my own. I said this to myself again. I had learned that repetition was manifestation and that manifestation was magic. I had to believe that it would happen, I had to want it beyond anything else. I had filled each of those seeds and planted them in the ground, their light shining like stars from beneath the soil.

As we drove on towards Lisa’s, I imagined that every seed I had planted would dig underground and trace a path towards me so that the roots they could show me the way that I was supposed to go. I pictured the ground underneath us filling with thousands of white and green roots, slithering through the dark earth to find purchase on the rocks within the soil. I had to believe that my wish come true. I was filled with magic after the past week, and I had to believe that I could achieve this. I had to believe that I was worth it.

I ignored all the voices within myself that told me I wasn’t worth it or that I didn’t deserve having a home. I pushed aside every worry. I would worry later. Now, I just gave myself over to the wish, the smell of sunlight on the air and the car filled with the sounds of joy and wonderment.

I’d love a home of my own.

Chapter Thirty-Nine – 4 of Cups

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

I found it difficult to sleep that night.

The pallet of foam beneath me felt like it was a cloud it felt as if I were moving all night, trying to find my way through the caves and caverns of dreamland. I felt like there was too much light within me. I wasn’t able to close my eyes against its brilliance.

There was a riot of emotions running through me and it almost felt like too much, the pull of the water within me too strong. I wasn’t used to feeling so much about someone. Even though I physically wanted someone, my emotions had long been turned off when it came to love. I dreamed about love, about the possibility of love and I’d wanted it for so long. It was impossible to think that I loved Francis already, but I knew the possibility of love was there, if I wanted it.

I twisted and turned and eventually let myself not sleep but dream. The only problem with dreams is that they don’t always go where you want them to go. In my half-sleep state, I dreamed of every boyfriend I’d ever had. By the time I could see the sun rising through Lisa’s bedroom window, I half convinced myself that the whole thing had been some kind of practical joke that had been played on me.

I just wasn’t convinced that any man could want me that much. My mind took me in all sorts of directions from wonder (I can’t believe that this happened to me!), to fear (what if he didn’t mean anything he had said?) and disbelief (he didn’t want me and there was no real connection). I had a world of voices in my head telling me that I wasn’t good enough for Francis. It was easy to ignore what they were saying if it was just one voice, but a whole chorus of them had almost convinced me that nothing had really happened by the time I got up and went to Lisa’s kitchen to start making a pot of coffee.

As I stood there waiting for the pot to brew, I gave my head a good shake. The chorus gave a loud scream in my mind as they scattered. It would be a while until they regrouped. I grabbed myself a mug, poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table so that I could light a cigarette. The smoke helped to clear my mind, too.

I didn’t know what to do, when I was going to speak to him or what would happen. I thought of taking up my tarot deck and seeing what the cards hat to say, but for once I didn’t want to know. I really just wanted to enjoy what I had experienced last night before my mind returned to push it away again. I wanted to remember the joy of it and how for one night I had felt special.

Lisa’s roommate Frank walked into the kitchen. “I thought I smelled coffee. Thanks man,” he said. Pouring himself a cup of black coffee, he sat at the table and lit a cigarette. “I know that look.”

“What look?” I asked.

“The look of someone who has a good thing and is trying to convince himself that it’s not worth it, he’ll just get hurt.”

I sat down and took hold of my own coffee. “Is it that obvious?”

Letting out a laugh, he gave me a knowing look. “Trust me, I’ve worn that look in the mirror lots of times.” Frank looked lost and his eyes. When he looked at me again, he seemed both in the room with me and lost in memories. “Don’t do what I do. I always run and convince myself that it would turn out horribly.” He let out a snort of laughter that loosened the lost look in his eyes. “It is horrible. I’m always alone.” He puffed out a plume of smoke. “I saw that kiss, Jamieson. I wouldn’t be walking away from that.”

My pager let out a beep. Looking down at the display, I saw it was Francis’ number. I checked my pocket for a quarter, grabbed my bag and made my way to Bronson and found a payphone there. I took a deep breath and said a prayer to the gods that this call would go well and that maybe, just maybe, Francis had been thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him. I dialed his number and Francis picked up after the first ring.

“Hello!”

Even his voice over the phone made my body feel warm. “Hi!” I said. I wasn’t thinking about trying to sound cool and composed. I closed my eyes cringing in case he said there was a mistake and that there was no way he could ever be with me.

“I’ve been thinking about you non-stop. Your ears must have been on fire this morning.”

“More like my whole body,” I said without thinking.

“Mine, too.” He said. “It’s like you’ve woken me up from a long sleep. Are you doing anything right now?”

“No,” I said. “I’m not busy with anything.”

“Can you come and see me? I would offer to pick you up, but I don’t have a car.”

“It’s okay, I have bus fare.”

“Okay, take the 85.” He said. He gave me the address and I knew where it was along the bus route. “I’ll come and meet you at the bus stop and we can walk back to my place. Would that be okay? I really want to talk to you some more. It seemed like we didn’t get enough time last night.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Good, that’s good.” He sounded as nervous as I felt.

“There’s an 85 coming down the street now. I can hop on and be there in about fifteen.”

“That’s amazing. I’ll see you soon, Jamieson.”

I hung up the phone and ran across the street so that I could catch the bus. I hopped on and thought about what I would find when I got there. Would Francis capture my attention just as much as he had when we had met?

I was betting on yes. I sat there with my bag on my lap, too nervous and keyed up to read. I just sat waiting for my stop, wondering what awaited me on this path that I had chosen not to turn away from.

Chapter Thirty-Two – The Prince of Wands

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

Lisa thought the perfect time for me to meet Francis would be at the next Pagan get together.

“It’s like a dance party talent show,” she told me with a twinkle in her eyes. “I told Francis all about you and now you two can meet and heal your wounds a little.”

“I don’t see why all of this is necessary,” I told her.

“Because you’re too afraid to think of how it might help in the future. You’re so focused on the now. You’re too much in the moment.”

“That’s all I have.” I said. “Thinking that way has always done me well.”

“You need to think of the possibilities,” Lisa told me. “You can’t just stay in the now. You’re going to miss something if you do.”

She told me that I had to think of a talent. “You were in drama, right? So how about you do a monologue? That could be fun.”

In truth, I had loved dramatic arts, and I loved to write monologues. They were a solo performance or speech that was supposed to bring you into the moment and make you feel something. They were also done on their own, so it suited me fine when I was in dramatic arts in high school or theatre classes in university. I loved the singleness of them; I was able to be on stage and I didn’t need to depend on anyone else to learn their lines. Plus, the light shone on me. I could be in the spotlight if I was someone else.

“Why don’t you do a monologue about the misunderstandings that people have about being Pagan? That could be a fun angle.”

I decided to run with the idea and began writing things I’d like to say in my piece. I knew that others would be singing, telling jokes, reding a story they had written, that kind of thing. The event raised money for an online chat board. I didn’t have a computer and had not been on the internet for years, so I had never used it. However, I thought of what Lisa had said about putting myself out there and living for a bit. I thought of The Hermit card the tarot and I thought I had been charging my light for too long.

It I looked at it within me, I could see clear across the forest to the fields beyond. Every blade of grass in the garden of my mind was as clear as day. I was tired of keeping my light in the darkness and shadows because I was afraid of being seen. I had to let the light out eventually. I used to love being watched on stage, the laughter that my part would create or the fear and joy. I loved being able to create emotions in other people and I don’t know when that joy stopped for me. What Lisa was asking me to do was to step out of the shadows and to let my light shine.

I was terrified of speaking in front of other people again, of being seen, but I also wanted to be seen. I couldn’t hide forever. I tried to think of what I would say about Paganism and thought that going at it from a funny angle would be best. I loved comedy, so I would do my monologue from a place of humour. Once I had a focus, it was like the words came pouring out of me. I filled page after page with words and once that was done, I read them over and saw some things I liked and some I didn’t.

Though I had always written, I hadn’t written a play or a scene for years. I loved the shaping of the words and it was like I was trying to find my way again. I went out for a break and a cigarette and took my pages with me. Lisa was already outside and she handed me a smoke. “What do you got?”

“I think I have something.” I said.

“Do you feel like practicing?” Lisa asked me.

I read out a little bit of my piece and was surprised when Lisa laughed. I looked up at her shocked.

“Don’t look at me like a deer in the headlights. That was funny! You’ve got this, Jamieson. You have to start believing in yourself, but your young yet.” She took a drag off her cigarette. “You’ve got time. You can’t be afraid to shine, Jamieson. You have to hold your head up high and not hide yourself. You shine too brightly for that.”

I shook my head. “I don’t though.”

“Don’t what?”

“Shine.” I said. “I don’t shine.”

“You should if you let yourself.” She butted out her cigarette. “Come on, let’s hear it again. This time, don’t be so hesitant. Lean into the jokes. You’ve written something really great here. We can trim it back so that it works better.”

I thought of the opportunity to shine underneath the comfort of a light again and nodded, looking down at my words and tried to let my light shine brighter with each word I spoke. I could no longer be afraid of myself.