Tag: writing

Chapter Sixty-Four – Two of Pentacles

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

I had big dreams, but I had no idea how to go about them.

It had been so long since I held a job. The last one had been during university, and I’d held a volunteer job a couple of summers before. I knew that the easiest way out of my current situation was to find a job.

For the past couple of years, I had only been concerned with obtaining food for my stomach and a roof over my head. That had been what drove me and it had been my only concern, aside from finding my way. I was fortunate enough to have met some everyday angels along the way. Lisa was one of them. She had taken me into her home and given me houseroom. Albeit on her floor, but still, she fed me out of the food supplies that we all got at the food bank down the street from her place. Could I betray her kindness?

I was constantly going back and forth about this. Darnelle noticed on one of her visits that I wasn’t myself. She waited until Lisa had gone back inside to get a fresh pack of cigarettes and more coffee to ask me what was wrong.

“What’s bothering you, kid?” she asked

“Nothing,” I told her, wanting to keep it to myself.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, Jamieson. I can see right into you, and I know there is something bothering you. My son is the same way” She handed me a cigarette. “How about a trade? I give you a cigarette and you can tell me what’s bothering you.”

“You don’t need to bribe me. You and I both know that I’ll tell you eventually.”

“Sure, but this way it’s an exchange so it’s a balance. I know what it’s like to hold on to everything and have no one to tell.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to bother you.”

She let out a laugh and lit the cigarette before passing it to me. “Tough. You have to change, Jamieson. You just can’t accept that people want to care about you so you do what they can to keep them out before something can happen.”

“Wow, that’s quite the mom talk.” I said with a laugh.

“Right? It doesn’t work on my son; I thought I’d try it on you.” Taking a sip of coffee, she pointed at me with her cigarette. “Go on, spill. I know you want to hold on, but it will feel better letting go. Go on, before she gets back.”

I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to mince words and she was right. I needed to change my habits. I had to be able to adapt to a new path if I went looking for one. I needed to start somewhere.  “I want more.” It felt like a release saying the words out loud. “I want more than this. I want my own place.” I took a drag of my cigarette to give me strength. When I blew the out the air I held, I could see the words that I was about to speak in the within the smoke. “I want more. I know that I need a job, but I have no idea about how to go about applying for one. I had planned on waiting until Lisa had her baby, but it’s becoming harder and harder to hold on to that light. Literally, as I’m sleeping on the fucking floor.”

There was a moment of silence between us, then Darnelle let out a laugh and stood to hug me tightly, careful of our cigarettes. “I am so happy. You make me so fucking happy, Jamieson. Thank the gods.”

I had expected shock but had not been prepared for the sheer joy. “You’re not upset?”

“Jamieson, you’re so young. It pained me to see you throwing your life away like Lisa has.” She saw the look of shock on my face. “Don’t misunderstand me, I love Lisa, she’s my friend and I’ve known her for a long time, but she gave up trying a long time ago. She’s content to stay on welfare when she is perfectly capable of working. She just doesn’t want to.”

“I don’t feel young. How am I supposed to find a job that I can do? I haven’t worked since university.”

“You and I will work on this. Come to my place tomorrow and we can work on your resume. I can make anyone sound good on paper and you can sell yourself, too. You’re good at talking to people, Jamieson, even if you have difficulty letting people in. You’re a gifted writer, too. You’re wasted here.” She gave me a strong look and looking into her eyes, I wondered how her son could deny her anything.

“Won’t Lisa be upset that I’m trying to better myself?” One of her constant refrains was the grind of the people, working for the man instead of living for the sake of living.

Darnelle waved a hand. “Who the fuck cares what she thinks. This is about you. You have to choose this for you.

Looking at Dar, I knew that I would make that choice. We both heard the sound of Lisa’s voice. She came out, carrying a cup of coffee in one hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other with a lit cigarette in her lips

Giving me a look, Lisa said “What’s about you? Did you write another story?”

“I’m going to give Jamieson help.” Darnelle said slowly. I could tell that she was choosing her words carefully. “He needs to work on his resume, and I wanted do some spirit work with him, introduce him to the Medicine Wheel Cards.” I hoped that Lisa would focus on the Medicine Wheel Cards and that she had not heard the other words.

“Resume? For what?”

I sighted. There were two ways that I could play this. I knew that I could lie to her, but Lisa had given me room in her home and food from her cupboards. I owed her the truth. I had planned to keep it a secret but changed my mind. “For a job.” I told her. “I want to find a job.”

She looked at me with wide shocked eyes for a moment. Then she let out a loud laugh. “Good one! Who would want to hire you?” She grinned at me as if she had made a big joke, but I knew that she had spoken her truth.

I looked at her and felt the earth begin to shake and crack beneath me, throwing me off balance. Lisa didn’t see or feel anything, but Dar and I looked at each other. I knew that she could see the shift within me.

I turned to Dar. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I said with conviction.

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 Sixty-One – Queen of Swords

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

After the magic circle, I ran into Soph and his friend Katie. They walked towards me and I my spirit was buoyed by the fact he smiled as he looked at me. When I got closer to him, Katie smiled and gave him a nudge in the ribs.

“Hi,” he said to me.

I found it amazing the amount of meaning that one small word could have. I could feel the blush starting in my cheeks and I gave him what I was sure was a wobbly smile. “Hi,” I said back. “Um, how are you?”

“Soph has been talking about nothing but you,” Katie said.

My blush deepened. “Really?”

“Yeah, nothing x rated or anything, but he’s into you.”

“Really?” I wished my brain would think of something else to say.

“Really.” Soph said. I could see a yearning in his eyes, and I wanted to give into that emotion. Soph had seen me naked and had not run from me. He wanted me, I could feel that from where I stood. It would be so easy and still, I held myself back.

I heard someone walking up behind me and I watched as Soph and Katie kind of snapped to attention. The look of lust in Soph’s gaze was gone, replaced with what looked like fear. I hear a voice behind me.

“Jamieson are you done with your bath?” I turned to find Sophie at my side. “Excellent, come and walk with me.” She looped an arm around one of mine. “Good morning Soph, Katie.”

They nodded and smiled at her and stood stock still as if afraid to move. I gave Soph one last glance until Sophie snapped her fingers in my face. “Focus on me, please.”

“Sorry,”

“It’s okay. I’m all for a sure thing, Jamieson. But too much of a good thing can be harmful.”

“It depends on what it is.”

“Yes and no. I mean, far be it from me to tell you not to go after a sure thing, but shouldn’t you work on loving yourself instead for now?”

We walked and I took comfort from the breeze that moved around us, as if it were asking me to choose a path. I noticed that the wind seemed to be even stronger when I was with Sophie, but I didn’t know if that was my imagination or the way she conducted herself. I know that she spoke from a place of wisdom and I tended to take her words to heart.

“I’m going to say this and you’re going to listen and you can decide to do with the words as you wish. Are you listening?

I could hear the sounds of the air whispering in the leaves of the trees and watched as my cigarette smoke was dancing around me, twisted into curls and ribbons by the wind. I stopped walking and turned to face her. “Yes, I am.”

“You’re still broken,” she said, placing a hand on where my heart lay within my chest. “You’re broken, hurting and lost. You had true love, it takes a long time to get over that.”

“Francis didn’t love me.”

“Yes, he did. Anyone looking at the two of you could see that he loved you as much if not more than you loved him. It’s why he pushed you away.”

I snorted. “I’m too young, apparently.”

She took my cigarette out of my hand and dropped it on the dirt path and squashed the ember with her right foot. Then she placed her hands on my shoulders and looked into me, not just at me. “You are young in heart but old in spirit. That’s a good thing. It means that you will always believe in the possibility of love, but don’t you think you need to love yourself, first? I have nothing against a roll in the hay, that should be a requirement for everyone. But you won’t find yourself in the bed of another.”

A tear slid down my cheek, made all the more real because it was such a beautiful day. “Why did he leave me?” I asked.

Sophie took a moment to think before she answered. I could see her choosing her words, trying to convey her words as clearly as she could. “Because he was afraid. When you meet your soulmate, you have two choices, run towards them or run away. Francis made his choice and now you have to make yours.”

We stood there listening to the wind for a moment and I tried to let the thoughts that there was something wrong with me, that Francis left me because I was damaged float away in the wind. I knew that it would take time, those thoughts had hooked themselves deeply in my mind.

“Well, if he was my soulmate, then that’s it. There’s no other love for me,” I said.

Letting out a laugh, Sophie looped her arm through mine again. “Now if you believe that, you are a fool. A person meets as many soulmates in their life as they are ready for. Francis was your first, but there will be others.” She gave me a rare smile. “Now come, take me back to camp. I’d love another cup of coffee and I wouldn’t say no to something else to eat, either.”

Chapter Fifty-Four – 6 of Swords

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

Sophie was beginning work on a tarot deck.

She had gathered a few of her Pagan friends to be different cards. A lot of people wanted to be part of the Major Arcana cards, but I was fine with just being included in the deck. When Sophie told me that I could have my choice of the Minor Arcana, I thought about what I was trying to achieve on this new path without Francis. I had gone from being part of something to being alone and, though I recognized what he had done to protect himself, I wasn’t sure how to move forward.

“You’re such a Swords,” she said, describing the suit as if it were a personality trait. “You’re a writer and a creative like me and Swords are such a creative suit.”

I shook my head. “I just find them so violent.”

“They don’t have to be, it depends on how you look at them. You wouldn’t be the Ace of Swords, maybe the Two of Swords?”

I shook my head again. “Can’t there be another card?”

Sophie looked me up and down, wondering where to place me in her deck. After some time, she spoke. “How about the Two of Pentacles? You’re just starting on your true creative journey, so how about we give you some balance as you go forward?”

She had me dress in a white’s poets’ blouse and striped pants, as if I were some kind of circus performer. I took Sophie’s hand with my left hand, and I took hold of her boyfriend James’ with my right.  They had me get up on to a large tree branch and when I was balanced, they let go so that James could take the photo with Sophie directing him and making sure that he got the right shot. High up on the branch, I could see everything and everyone that was at the farm. Francis was the Magician card, and Lisa was the Star card. Jess was the Hermit and Fox was trying to be The Emperor, but Sophie wanted Fox to be The Hange Man, but Fox didn’t want to hang from a tree as James had suggested.

I had seen Francis walking around all morning and just as I stayed away from him, he stayed from me. I tried to keep my eyes from looking at him, but they were drawn to Francis and the surety that he conducted himself with. He walked around the grounds with such confidence that I was jealous of him. I didn’t feel nearly that comfortable with myself, especially with the storm that he had caused within me.

My eyes were drawn to Francis as Sophie and James helped me along the long tree branch. It felt like I was perched within the trees and I smelled the earth. I could also feel the wind moving around me. The day was hot and humid, and the wind was warm. I could smell honeysuckle and the ever-present smell of manure that was used as fertilizer from the farm next door. I could smell the leaves of trees and the mustiness that came from the shadows.

I turned away from Francis and the pain that he caused in me. I had tried to patch the holes that he had left in my heart, but I could hear the wind whistling through them. My heart sounded hollow, and I wanted to fill it with something else other than the withered heart that I had chosen to keep safe inside of a metal box. Looking out at the wide-open expanse of the fields in front of me, I let myself imagine the grass like a green sea that could take me somewhere else where I could let myself heal.

I looked away from Francis and what he represented and chose to turn away from him and toward what would come in the future instead. I knew that he had been my first love, but I knew that there would be others.

Sophie explained that I would have to balance on the tree branch on my own for a few minutes while James grabbed the shot from different angles and she made sure that I would be comfortable with that. The Pentacles would be added in digitally afterwards. I nodded and they both took their hands away. I followed Sophie’s instructions about how she wanted me to pose.

I let nodded again and put my arms out on either side of me to get my balance before I moved them in front of me. With my cerebral palsy, I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be able to stay on the tree branch, but right now, for this moment, I was holding my balance, and I didn’t feel like I was going to fall. I was surprised by how free I felt.

With my palms held open to the sun and my gaze on the sky and sea of grass, I felt like I was flying.

Chapter Fifty-Three – 5 of Swords

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

I was so angry.

I was also surprised at the thoughts that were going through my head. Every memory of Francis was now tainted and dulled in my head because of what he had done. The fact that he had talked to everyone but me saddened me; the fact that he wouldn’t let me talk to him at all, that he wouldn’t talk to me at all, infuriated me.

I had been sad for days, but gradually, the sadness passed into anger. The water that had surrounded me slowly evaporated as the anger took over. There was a storm in my mind filled with hot shadows made from my fears come to life. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Francis and his form wavered as if I were seeing him through the film of heat from a fire.

As much as I loved him, I was so angry. I couldn’t bring myself to hate him, for who could hate their first true love? Lisa had told me it was okay to hate someone, but I took offense to that. My love for Francis still ran so deeply in me. I couldn’t stop the flow of my thoughts and emotions, even if there had been a dam put in place in front of the emotions. I had used my mind to place a barrier around my heart and the memories that I had of Francis. I made sure that the metal barrier in my mind was sharp and pointy so that it would hurt every time I tried to look at the time I had spent with him. It was easier for me to go keep my head up afterward and didn’t hurt so much to go on without Francis.

And yet, I would find myself taking out those memories and looking at them, even though I knew that I was hurting myself each time I plucked a memory from that metal box. I would try to look at the memories through a thin red haze. I knew that it was hurting me to keep looking in, but I wanted to see what I had done wrong. When did he stop loving me? I was so lost within myself that even though I kept going, I was stuck. I said this much to Lisa one night.

She’d brought home a rare treat. She pulled open her pack of cigarettes and presented me with a rolled joint. “You look like you really need to loosen up.”

“Why, I’m not uptight.”

“You are so fucking controlled, Jamieson. When was the last time you did something for fun? And you’ve been mired in the dark forest; I don’t mind telling you that. Francis isn’t everything, Jamieson. You need to stop beating yourself up and thinking of him that way. You’re everything.”

Lighting the joint, Lisa took a few puffs and passed it to me. I gladly took in a few puffs of smoke, hopeful that it would at least lessen the pain that I was in and soften the edges of the steel knives. I passed the joint back to her, and she took a few more puffs of her own. Soon, the joint half gone, we were both giggling like school children. My face hurt from laughing, having been kept in a frown for so long. 

The moment made me realize how long I had been hurting myself. I shook my head and looked at Lisa, her eyes large with mirth. “He really was a dickhead.” I couldn’t bring myself to call him an asshole like Lisa did on a regular basis since he had broken up with me. Dickhead was as far as I was willing to go. I still loved him. It hurt to admit this to myself, but I knew that my love for him would take a while to fade.

Letting out a laugh, Lisa said “Well, he does like dick, so it’s an appropriate nickname! I’ll call him that next time I see him.”

I didn’t think anything of it until a few days later. My pager went off, and I saw Francis’ number flash on the screen. My whole world seemed to pause and go still. I couldn’t hear the sounds of Lisa in the next room, or the sounds of traffic from the freeway near by. I stared at the number and wondered if I wanted to talk to him or hear anything that he had to say.

I was still wondering this as I walked out the door, lit a cigarette, and found myself at the payphone across the street. I put a quarter in and dialed his number and when the phone clicked and he said hello, the sound returned to the world around me. His voice could make me believe in any kind of possibility and I wondered which one I would find here.

“Hello, Francis?” I said.

“Hello,” I was surprised to hear the coldness in his voice. “Don’t you mean dickhead?” he asked. “That’s what you’ve been calling me.”

The volume of the noise around me went even louder. Francis’ words seemed too loud and his words felt like a slap. “I mean, I could have called you worse things. You’re lucky that it was just dickhead.”

“That’s what I am to you? I loved you, Jamieson. You don’t talk about people you love like that.”

“You do when they are being mean. You hurt me, Francis.” Even saying his name hurt me and I felt the pain in my chest, the swords clanking together. “I have a right to be upset after you did what you did.”

“I set you free, Jamieson.” I heard the click of a lighter and Francis took in a breath of smoke. “You should be thanking me. I’m not a dickhead.”

Louder than any other sound was the loud beating of my heart. I could hear it in my ears and the noise of it seemed to fill my mind completely. I thought of every other man I had been with, and I didn’t use my voice. My heart wanted me to know that I had one. I closed my eyes and watched as I took hold of one of the swords that surrounded my heart. In my minds eye, I held it out towards Francis.

Letting my eyes slide open, I took in my own breath of smoke. “You’re right, Francis. You’re not a dickhead. I believe that asshole fits you a lot better. You don’t get to break my heart and then tell me how I feel. This is on you.”

I hung up the phone before he could start talking again because I realized that what he said no longer mattered. I could grieve now, finally seeing Francis for what he was. It seemed that he had given me a gift in the end, the clarity that can only come from pain.

I held on to the sword like a dowsing rod and let it lead me back home.