Tag: spirit

Chapter Twenty-Eight – 7 of Wands

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

I was overjoyed to get a phone in my room.

It felt like such an adult thing to have such a thing. A phone was an item from my past and

I was finally able to stay in touch with those I loved and even a few friends. Not that many people had my telephone number and felt special. I didn’t have a lot of money and would not use the phone very much except for local calls. That’s why it was odd to find it ringing when I got home from the garage. I had made myself a bowl of pasta in the kitchen of the rooming house and was having dinner while I read a book. The phone ringing was like a siren and my fork clattered to the desk.

A part of me didn’t want to answer it, but I ignored that part of me and picked up the receiver, the ring of the telephone loud in my room. “Hello?”

“So it is your number.” Shades said. His voice was dark and full of honey, the kind that could clog your throat and make it hard to breathe. “I wasn’t sure that Sunshine was pulling my leg or not when he gave me your number.”

It had been so long since I had heard his voice. I had come to know it well during our time together and I knew that this was his angry voice. It was how he liked to start most conversations. He had always been angry about something or angry at someone. I saw that with the gift of hindsight, but when I first knew him, I thought Shades being moody was just his way of being misunderstood. I was attracted to these parts of him that he was brave enough to share under the cover of night. I realized that I had been something to be kept hidden and kept from the prying eyes of others.

I knew that he had been ashamed of me. At that moment, I was ashamed of myself because when I heard his voice, my body reacted automatically. Even though my mind and body knew that Shades was bad for me, they still wanted him. I still wanted him.

“I need to see you,” he said. “I don’t know what you did to me. I was never fucking gay before you but now I can’t get you out of my head.”

The words came out in an angry torrent, and I felt each one of them pierce my skin. I wondered how much a person could bleed before they had given away all that they were to the needs of someone else. He had already taken so much from me, aside from the parts of myself that I had willingly given him.

“I didn’t make you gay.” I told him.

“Then what did you do?” I could hear the desperation in his voice, and it echoed my own when I realized that I was gay and prayed for someone, anyone to take it away. “You only think of yourself, that’s always been the way you do thing. You just took from me.”

“I didn’t take anything from you.”

“You took my manhood. You made me gay when you put it in your mouth.”

I let out a laugh. “It doesn’t work that way. It’s not like you can catch being gay like you can catch the flu.”

“Then what did you do to me?” He asked again. “I need to see you. Will you come to see me, please?”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me doing it. “Sure, I’ll come see you. How do I get there and what’s the address?”

He told me and I told him that I would be there in about an hour. I sat in my room and thought only for a moment of what I wanted to do and wondering if I could do it. I knew that it would make him angry, but I just didn’t care anymore. I sat there at the desk and looked at myself in the mirror that looked back at me like an eye. I went to my purple bag and took out all of my make up and set it on the table in front of me.

I pushed my bowl of pasta aside and began applying my makeup. I started with a light powder to cover my skin and then eyeshadow. I chose a light purple colour, an almost lilac colour that made my eyes brighter. I applied a little bit of blush in a natural tone and a lipstick in a soft rose petal colour. All very neutral but I was clearly wearing make up.

With every strike of the brush against my skin, it felt like I was putting on war paint. I knew that by going to see him, I had put the ball in his court. I had to take my power back from him. I knew that this had to be done, even if it meant going to him. By the time I was made up completely, I was ready for the battle ahead of me. As I waited for the bus, I said mantra’s over and over in my head and tried to recall what I had learned from reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. As I got on the bus and it began to bring me closer to where he waited, I thought of the bus as a chariot heading into war and wondered if I would be victorious.

In truth, I was afraid. I didn’t know how he would react, and I had seen him rage before. He had made me hide inside a closet rather than be seen with me. At the time, I had thought it was because he wasn’t out of the closet yet. Later, after I had left him, I wondered if it was because he was ashamed of the feelings I brought out in him, so I had to be hidden.

I would not hide now.

He would not make me cower because of who I was and what I was. The makeup drew looks from my fellow bus passengers, but I thought “Let them look.” That was the point anyways. I didn’t want to hide anymore so that I could make Shades feel better about his shame. I had to stand up for myself once and for all with him and let him know that he could not intimidate me anymore.

He was waiting for me when the bus came. I got off the bus and could already see a storm brewing around him. Part of me wondered why this was so important to me and what I had to prove, but in that moment when I saw the anger in his eyes when he looked at me, I knew that this was important to me. Shades didn’t matter one iota to me. I would not hide myself so that he could feel comfortable with who and what he was.

“Do you have to look like such a faggot?”

I could see the air around him and it looked as if it had been supercharged with the energy he was putting out. I could smell the booze emanating from him and knowing how alcohol affected people, I knew to be wary and on my guard. Confronting him was about giving myself closure, but that didn’t mean I had to endanger myself.

“I’m not exactly sure what you mean, Shades.” I told him. “How exactly is a faggot supposed to look?”

He waved his hands at me. “Like this! Like you do!”

“I’m not sorry if the very sight of me offends you.”

“It’s not that! Do you have to be so fucking gay all the time?”

“It’s not like I can turn it off, you know.” I said. “It’s not like there’s a gay switch that I can flick on and off to blend better with society.”

“You could at least try!” He was yelling now. “Then we could be together.”

I looked at him, at this man I used to be so enraptured with, and I wondered why he had held so much power over me. I thought of Rainbow and how he had treated her, how he had treated both of us and the way we thought we were lucky to have drawn his gaze to ourselves. We felt like we had been blessed to have him in our lives. I would have done anything for Shades, and I think he knew that, too.

That stopped now.

I was not someone to be ashamed of or shoved into a box or a closet to remain hidden until you were ready for me. “I’m not going to be the reason that you’re pissed off. You’re angry at me because I’m braver than you are because I can live as I truly am.”

“Just come inside and we can talk about this, about what you’ve done to me and what you plan to do about it.”

That sounded less like an invitation and more like a threat. I was done being threatened and I was done hiding. I looked at Shades and finally saw him for what he was. When that happened, I realized he had no power over me.

I could see another bus coming and I turned my back on Shades and walked towards the bus stop. It didn’t matter what bus it was, only that it would take me away from him and back to the life which I was trying to live where he had no place in it.

“Where are you going?”

When I turned back to him, it was to find him looking at me with eyes so filled with fear. I knew what it was like to be afraid, and I hoped that Shades would find a way through it towards self acceptance. I knew that it wasn’t my place to take on someone else’s fears and try to make sense of them. I had enough to deal with on my own.

I turned away from him and when the bus door opened, I got on and let the doors close behind me. As I made my way to a seat, I could see Shades looking after the bus for a moment and then he was gone from my sight and my life.

Chapter Twenty-Two – The Ace of Wands

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

I met Fox in the square.

He wasn’t homeless or living in a boarding house like I was. He just hung out there and we became friends of a sort. He hung out with others like Stacey and Shadow, both of them always dressed in black. Fox knew other people I knew like Sunshine, and he was different. He didn’t have to be here; he wanted to be here. It felt like he was choosing all of us as his family and we became fast friends.

After a few weeks of knowing him, Fox asked if I wanted to meet some other friends of his. “Nothing kinky, don’t worry about that. They’re just some like minded individuals that I think you’d get along with really well. If you’d like to?”

“Why would I like them?” I asked. He knew that I had an aversion to meeting other people and I knew that he would be honest with me about why he had brought them up.

“It’s your tarot cards. My friend Lisa is always going on about them and loves them too. She’s always reading, and you’ve read some of the books she has. I’d like you to meet Lisa and a few other friends. We’re all going to dinner at James Street if you want to come. My treat?”

I nodded, despite my initial fear. It was the mention of tarot cards. Anyone that was drawn to the cards couldn’t be that bad. It would be good for me to talk to other tarot readers and see what their journey with the cards had been.

As we approached the James Street Feed Co., I was nervous but excited. Fox told me all about Lisa and his other friends Sophie and Jess. Sophie was an artist and Jess was a writer. It felt too good to be true and I had no idea how Fox knew so many awesome people, but it felt like I was being invited into a community of creatives, and they were all the things I wished that I could be. I had always written but had begun to think about trying my hand at making art, too. I reminded myself not to ask too many questions; I didn’t want to be too annoying.

Entering the restaurant, Fox saw his three friends and waved. We walked over to the table and all three woman got up so that they could exchange hugs. I stiffened as Lisa wrapped her arms around me in a hug. I hugged her back, but hesitantly.

“Why, Fox! Who have you brought us this time?” Lisa asked.

“This is Jamieson.” Fox smiled at me and gave me a reassuring look. “I think you’ll like him.”

“Fox is always bringing us strays so that we can help lead them home.” Sophie said.

“Home to where?” I asked.

“To the god and goddess, of course.” Lisa said, giving me another hug. “I knew you were one of us, right when I saw you, I knew.”

“One of who?” I asked her, feeling as if I’d fallen down some sort of rabbit hole.

“That you were Pagan of course.”

It was if the word was a key and it opened something within me. Looking at Lisa, I could see fire all around her, the air above her head filling with sparks and bits of magic. For a moment, I could see her walking toward me, a metal helmet and breast plate made of the shiniest metal. She was a flame and I was the moth drawn towards her light. Lisa was lit brightly and she radiated warmth.

When I blinked my eyes, the vision was gone, but I knew that I was in the presence of someone beautiful.

We sat at the table, and they ordered appetizers. “I’m a warrior witch,” Lisa said. “You’ll find your own path; that’s what Paganism is all about. Instead of a G-O-D, there are all kinds of gods. You just need to find the ones that call to you.”

“The ones?”

“Yes, in Paganism it’s all about balance. There is male and a female, or at the very least two gods that call to you.” Sophie said. She was a little older than Lisa and when I looked at her, I saw the Hierophant, someone who was wise and full of ancient wisdom that she had collected. “Just like there are all kinds of gods, there are all kinds of magics. You just follow what you’re called to.”

“Fox tells us that you like to write.” Jess said. “That’s a kind of magic, too. I’m a writer, like you. It’s good you’ve found your magic already.”

I shook my head. “My writing isn’t magic.”

“Ha!” Jess said. “We’ll make a believer out of you yet. Do you need to yearn to write, need to write?” She gave me a knowing smile when I nodded. “Then it’s your magic. You’re lucky you’ve found it when you’re so young. It took me ages to figure out what I wanted to do.”

It felt like I had found my kindred spirits. We talked about all manner of things, how they had each found paganism and how it had brought them to a deeper sense of who they were and their place in the world. We talked a little bit about my family, but I veered the subject away from my mom and stepfather. I wasn’t ready to talk about them yet, but I did talk about the people I knew on the streets. I talked about Sunshine, Rainbow and Angel. I talked about Renee and Jesus. I told them about the YSB and the Ottawa Mission and the people I had met there. I talked to the four of them as if they were already fast friends and I knew that they were.

I thought of the door that Lisa had opened within me, and I was astounded that I felt the light within me grow a little brighter, so much so that I could even feel its warmth within me. I looked down at my hands and could have sworn that sparkles were cascading from my fingertips, and I wondered if the light showed when I spoke, whether the group of us could see the light growing within me.

Looking up at the light fixture that hung down above us, I took in all the light that surrounded us. I wonder what that light would show me and which direction I was heading in. Lisa looked at me, a deep knowing look as if she could see into my skin and observe my spirit. “I don’t know hurt you, but we can help with that.”

I shook my head, suddenly embarrassed. “No one hurt me,” I said.

“Your eyes tell me different.” She patted my hand. “It’s okay, Jamieson. It takes time to heal. You’re safe, now. You’re a warrior, don’t forget that.”

My spirit thrummed in response, and I opened myself to the music of the light. In that moment, I chose to follow that light and see where it would take me.

The Change Tarot

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in Tarot Books, Tarot Deck Reviews, Tarot Decks, Tarot Writing

I got The Change Tarot sight unseen. I’ve been going through a lot of changes lately, and the road has been bumpy. It’s been a lot.

When I saw that it’s a deck geared towards psychological and spiritual exploration, I knew that I had found a tool to get me through whatever came my way.

I adore the color pallet of soft muted shades. It welcomed me into the Rider-Waite Smith world I know so well but gave it a fresh take that changes things up.

The guidebook is where the deck really shines. Each card gives you the interpretation of the card through a psychological lens that gives you bite-sized advice and comfort.

The cardstock is matte, thick, but bendy, and there is no gloss, just the way I love. The box is a sturdy two part clam shell box, and the production is top notch.

The deck exists because of the book Tarot for Change by Jessica Dore, but you need not read the book to use the cards. The Change Tarot does make me want to dive into Tarot for Change again.

Jessica Dore and Xvaiera Lopez have created something beautiful here, and  they have helped to give me clarity as I make my way forward through the mountains, and I can’t thank them enough.

#thechangetarot #jessocadore #xvaieralopez