Tag: safety

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 Nine – The Hermit

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide

Sunshine lived with two other guys in a two-bedroom apartment.

It was this squat building painted a burgundy too dark to be considered gentle and there was yellow trim everywhere on the outside of the building. The building looked tired, but damn it was trying. “It’s not much,” Sunshine said. “I get a large room with a window that looks out into the alley. There are sometimes that I like to sit there and listen to the music that the evening has to offer.”

He gave the old building a wink. “Still, she can be temperamental like all old places are.” Giving me first a shrug and then a saucy wink. “At least she’s trying!”

The lobby was a one room with a jumble of mailboxes that looked strangely like mouths. I was reminded of the doorknobs from The Labyrinth for some reason and wondered what kind of a world I was about to enter. There was graffiti in the stairwell that had been there for years. The words had faded to the point where they were unintelligible. In certain sections of the stairs, it looked as if a painter’s pallet had exploded: the stairs were covered in bold blacks and yellows, arcs of magenta, vibrant oranges faded to the dusk of dusk itself.

To my mind, only the fey folk lived here or those desperate to live. It felt like home to me right away. My stepfather had taught me to recognize the signs of what had once been a good building. This building may not look pretty, but I could see what the building had once been underneath the grime, crumbling stone and faded windows. She had been a jewel in her day. The wood held the stories of these people that had come before me. I may not be here very long, I thought, but it would be home while I was.

Sunshine’s roommates nodded at me when Sunshine and me came into the apartment. “This is Dan and Mike. They’re nice. Their room is that way. They don’t want anyone knowing that they are a couple, so mums the word, honey.”

We passed by a kitchen, the bathroom and then ended up in Sunshine’s room. He was right, it was a spacious room and the window to the outside world was huge. I could see the deep blue of the dusky sky and it brought me comfort. “Come here, honey. Look, it’s like a window box. You can even sit in there and write. I like to do that. I write in my journal sometime, you know? I know that it will be published someday.”

He went over to his stuff and pulled out a roll of foam. “I don’t have a lot for you to sleep on. My mother got me a futon, but it’s only a single. I can give you this to sleep on? I’m sorry honey, I wish I had more.”

I took the foam with reverence. “Thank you, it’s more than enough. You’ve given me so much already.”

“You go on and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back. I’m going to see if those two guys have left any food in the house.”

While he was gone, I took a seat in the window. If I wanted to, I could have opened it and dangled my feet out into the alleyway. Instead, I was content to sit there looking at a slice of the moon that I could see. There was a haze around the building that seemed to take on more life the darker the sky got. It’s like the building wanted to shine for all those that might need her.

I sat there and tried to focus on my own light into my words. I sat there, holding my pen and paper in hand and just enjoyed the moment instead. There was no other sound except my own breathing and Sunshine in the kitchen.

I knew that the world held the dark and the light and that I had a choice to make. I could let what happened with Shades dim my light, I could disappear into the uncertainty of this world and let myself become lost within it. What did I have anymore but my own will? I could choose to let that go, too and embrace what may come.

Or I could choose to dust myself off, get up and not have my life determined for me by a man. I was in a place of comfort with someone I trusted, and I hadn’t had that with Shades. I thought of the steps that I had taken and the path I had chosen for myself. I would see this path through to the end, no matter where it took me.

As I looked up at the sliver of the moon I could see in a dusky blue sky, I promised myself this.

Sunshine came back into the room holding two mugs. “Good news, honey! They didn’t finish everything off.” His smile was infectious as he held up the two mugs. “Chicken noodle soup!”

Chapter Five – The Hierophant

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide

Even though I was staying with Shades, my bag was always with me.

It held everything I owned, and I didn’t feel safe leaving it with him. I just got a feeling that my belongings weren’t safe with him if I wasn’t with them. To a passerby, the bag was full of an odd sort of collection, a hodge podge of things that didn’t seem to connect or have any kind of order.

They were the only things I left home with.

My stepfather had given me fifteen minutes to pack what I wanted to take with me when he kicked me out. I had looked around my room and tried to think of what I would need to make me feel more comfortable in a transitory lifestyle. I had no idea where I would end up, no set notion of where I was going and no idea what I was about to do.

That was okay, though. It was better than living under his roof. I was never really at home beneath it. I had a room, but it was never really mine. It was a waystation of sorts, even I knew it in some rudimentary way. It was a home, but it wasn’t mine, not really.

I had looked around my room and thought logically about what I would need, knowing that everything would have to be small and lightweight. I went around my room, looking at everything I had gathered crow like around me, all my clothes and things: gadgets and wonders, books filled with worlds, CDs filled with anthems, joys and understanding.

I knew that I would need to take very little with me. What did I actually need beyond a shadow of a doubt. I took my time to choose the things I would need no matter where I was. I took my alarm clock so that I could set always get up when I need to and have order in a world that had none. I took three t shirts and three pairs of underwear so that I would always have a spare and a change plus the shirt I wore. I took one hoodie. I had a little bag of toiletries: deodorant, toothbrush, soap. I took Playing Beatie Bow by Ruth Park and Mine for Keeps by Jean Little because they were a comfort, and they were thin and light.

I took what ID of mine that I could find and my tarot cards, the box beginning to fall away. I checked my wallet. I had thirty dollars to my name and little bit of paper that contained things I had written down.

I had collected these things to me, going around the room and gathering to me and finding a place for them in my bag. Every spot was special, and I didn’t want to weigh myself down too much with a lot of stuff. I took one last thing: a silver ring with a wolf etched to it in Haida art. It was my connection and touchstone to spirit.

I kept all of this with me at all times, either on my back or beside me, always in view and I had chosen each piece for myself. There was no panic in any of my choices. I knew that I had to leave room for other items and treasures that I would find along the way. I had to leave room for myself so that I could grow wings.

I knew that every time I took my bag with me that I didn’t trust him. Could I love someone I didn’t trust? I knew the answer and wasn’t sure how long that I could stay with someone who I didn’t trust, who hadn’t so much as kissed me. We’d done other things, but never that. I knew that it was the most intimate that you could be with another person and Shades and I didn’t share that between us. I knew the signs were there and that this was only the fist step along on this new journey.

I had no idea where it would take me, but I knew that I had packed my talismans and brought them with me for some semblance of normalcy. Less a bag of personal items, it was a bag that contained what I thought contained magic. I just wondered where that magic would take me.

I lay there at nighttime, Shades shirtless beside me, listening to his breathing as he slept. His snores sounded like the wind as I looked at the night stars outside the window, the air hot with the heat of summer, a candle we had lit earlier beginning to sputter.

As I fell asleep, I watched the shadows on the walls and wondered what I would become.