To veil or not to veil?

So. Covering the head. What does that make you think? Of burkhas? Nuns? Fair enough.

But what if I told you that pagan women are starting to cover their heads? Tying scarves around their heads and keeping their hair out of sight, at certain times (usually outside of the home)?

Does it sound a little too Abrahamic? A little too much like strict Judaism/fundy Christianity/Islam? Yeah, I thought so too, and that the urge to cover my hair was some misplaced feeling of "christian modesty" hanging on - though I was never part of a church that actually had women cover their hair.

What to make of the sudden urge, about a year ago, to cover my head?

I didn't do it. My then-boyfriend thought it looked silly, and I stopped. Though the covering made me feel centered, even grown-up.

Now I learn that other women are doing this, even Zat is, and writing about it. It's made it to the Pantheon blog. Still a minority, but one that is seemingly strong, and includes a spiritual sister. I like the idea in the blog on Pantheos, that hair is power, and it doesn't get to be shared with everyone. I'm complimented on my hair at times, and while I like that, it makes me fiddle with my hair. Makes me very self-conscious. Also, there are just some gorgeous scarves out there that I would love to wear like a tichel. I had a little experience with covering in a religious service though, as that is done by both men and women in Vodou. I always thought veiled and scarved women were beautiful, in a way - not the potato-sack burkha deal, that's too much.

Anyway, I tried an experiment while I was out today. I bought two lovely scarves on sale, because I was on this train of thought, then decided I'd get some cute bandanas for work - nothing too obvious, I'm still in Floribama. But that meant going to the dreaded WalHell. I remembered how centered I felt with my head covered, which is something Zat touched on...and I wanted to gauge the reaction of people. So in the car, I tied my hair up in a lovely gray scarf I bought.

I was so excited, I locked my stupid keys in the car, along with my phone! I felt like a doofus, and figure, well, now is the time to see how interactions with people go!

I lucked out, and found a pop-a-lock van right in the parking lot! I run up, ask him to help me, and gives me a discount - though I didn't have enough cash...AGH! He says "well, you seem like such a nice lady" and fills out a form, saying it was an emergency. Didn't ask for a cent.

So, it works? I guess? He was so kind, but that could have just been who he is. In any case, my scarf didn't seem to get in the way of doing business, talking to people - in fact, I was rather chatty with the cashier inside the store. I felt that feeling of safety and calm, and was able to extend myself socially, as a result. Seems contradictory, that wearing something most women wear for modesty makes me more outgoing.

I don't know how much I will cover my head yet, honestly. I only know that I like it, and I think more will happen in the future. Certainly more when I move from here. (I still worry about Islamophobia in this area) In any case, this is something I'm excited to learn from.

The cards say...

Divination is a lovely and tricky thing. Don't get me wrong, I love doing it, even when it turns frustrating and strange.

But there is such a thing as too much.

I collect tarot decks. I use pretty much all of them, and try to stick with one deck per reading, and that deck is whichever one calls to me.

But sometimes, I get the urge to reach for another, and ask the same questions. Bad idea.

Conflicting results, confusing answers, or just what I call "deck exasperation" sets in - where is seems like the cards themselves are saying "you asked that already, pipe down and think over the first reading!" Yes, my decks have personalities.

I have to admit, I've found myself doing this, out of self-doubt and anxiety. It never turns out well, and I leave my divination space more confused than I went in. I'm working on sticking to one deck per reading, making it a rule. Even the last reading I did for myself spoke of keeping things simple, not over-thinking situations. Apparently, it's not just a divination problem!

It's like over-editing a poem, or over-thinking a riddle, you can look past the obvious and get mired down in trivialities. All because of the urge to know.

Even with divination, you can never really know, there is no certainty. You are only shown the path, you still have to walk it, and your future is always in your hands. No amount of card readings, rune castings, pendulum work, or any other form of divination, will make that any less true, or the future any less risky. Not by itself anyway. You have to heed the message, first.

All the work is on you.

Thank You Mother, Thank You!

Hethert is definitely moving in my life. I'm actually looking to get out of here.

I'm not giving up. I was so close, and now it's all changed. A phone call that lasted until the sun rose, like I was young again. I don't even want to sleep, I feel so alive. More than I have in years, even in New Orleans! How has this happened?

I just know it's glorious. That love renews hope. That I will thank my Mother in shrine this morning, before I make errands. That, at the least, I have a new and dear friend, someone Hethert has placed in my path.

Because She always wants me to have love.



<3 Qefathethert

Struggles, and What I Have

More down time. Feel I've lost someone dear to impatience and other things. Sometimes I feel like too much is going on.

Then Mom Hethert throws messages through music at me, and it helps. It heals.

I still have a lot to learn, heal from, and do, but it's good to know that I have a faith family and gods that have my back. I love you all.

And will try to remember this:

Slow down
From a thread of sky
To the warp and weft of your being
You’re beautiful graceful, like no other, pretty dammed good as you are

All's fair...?

I am changing again. Of course, this is a good thing, ultimately. Being static is a kind of death. I wonder if there is anything concrete in my life, really.

Of course, I'm scared. My previous post hinted at things I only felt comfortable being super vague and slightly poetic about. At the time, anyway. I don't have many solid thoughts about it.

What I am pretty sure of, is that there will be a burning away of many false ideas I had about myself - things that my accepted thoughts conflicted with, but I didn't have the guts to face. But I shouldn't have been surprised, in the end.

Main thing, I believe I might be polyamorous. If you have no fucking idea what that is, see Zabet's other blog and her explanation and know you're not the only one confused.

In fact, I vaguely knew about people that did this sort of thing, but didn't know the word - and didn't think I could "handle" it. I kind of have had it slapped in my face by crazy circumstance, and have had to face some of my main fears about it. I'm still utterly confused, but ready to admit - this very well might be who I am. How I approach love. Which is frightening as FUCK, but amazing at the same time.

This is all subject to change too. On my terms. Whatever those are.

Yeah, thanks Hethert, I am your daughter, alright.

Mon coeur, heart, ib, corazon....

I try to close myself off after heartbreaks. Or at least install security defenses with passwords to get through. I feel smaller, but safer. But that's no way to live. Not really. And not for me.

I burn with passion sometimes. I cry when simply overwhelmed, whether by fear, pain, or joy. I wear my heart on my sleeve. And then I try not to.

The gods laugh, and throw people in my way to tear me wide open again. I don't think this is a bad thing.

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
~Kahlil Gibran

It's all very scary, and healing is hard, but maybe fire can cleanse me.



Senebty, Qefat

Who I Was, Who I Am.

I hope this post makes sense. And I won't ask anyone to believe it, because I know how that goes.

I remember past lives.

I don't just trust or believe in reincarnation - it's beyond academic for me, and into the very real, very spiritual, personal, and often visceral realm of reality for me. I have remembered lives that span thousands of years. I remember people I know now in some of the past lives, though they hardly ever remember me (I think this has happened twice, ever). I have never undergone hypnosis, this is not borne of suggestion. I don't know how to explain how I remember, or even where to begin how to tell others how they could. I just do. I trust that I remember the lives and the times within them for a reason. To learn something.

This admission on my part is usually met with some level of disbelief, either outright accusations of lying, or some reason how I'm misunderstanding what I remember and feel. Everything from "you're just trying to make your own life more interesting", to "we don't have individual reincarnated souls, it's 'genetic memory'." Any combination, mutation, personal take on these ideas, I've likely heard. I'm not here to defend my own understanding of my experience to anyone. I accept that I could be wrong. I am still learning, after all.

I just know that since the first memory came to me, I knew that I was myself and not myself at the same time. Of course I wasn't the same person I am now, but some part of me, something deep and inner, was within that woman who had a husband and lived in Spain in the 1940's. Same for the prostitute in early Renaissance Venice, the farm girl in Bronze Age China, etc, so forth.

Whenever I do remember, depending on the strength of the memory, my mind can be split for days. And a memory recently did surface this week - and I believe it was particularly strong, because I remembered with someone who was there. We only met briefly in that life, but it was strong enough to throw me into a state of mental limbo for days. I forgot how to start my car, I slipped in and out of English on the phone, I basically felt like my mind/spirit has been stirred, like a jar of sake, and all the sediment that had brewed to produce who I am now, was floating to the surface, clouding the present.

And this brew is strong, and bittersweet.

Any idea that I dream up past lives because they would be better than the present, I can say, right now, that is false in my case. These were painful memories, and not just for me. I wasn't anyone famous (no Cleopatra or Napoleons here). I wasn't a rich woman, a princess, I didn't have a torrid love affair. If anything, I lived in shame, in pain, and died with little note.

I am still working out why it is useful for me to remember - if it was just to remember with my friend, that would be good enough for me. We now share a very strong bond, and I treasure that.

I also know that it is of little use to dwell on these memories, so I am doing my best to let them settle. To remember, and to not re-live it. I think I had to for a little while, but that is only to integrate part of myself into my present consciousness. And to remember the good things, the kindnesses, and take lessons from the rest.

While I fully believe in these memories, I remind myself, and also believe, that this life is the most important. Anything in the past is just that, in the past - while it has helped form the present, and I can learn from that, the only thing I can affect is now.

So I will remember who I was, learn who I am, and make who I will be a full person.