Since I started this blog in August, I have had quite a few
visitors come to my home. They have come
to sit at my old, round wooden table and share their truths with me. Yesterday afternoon was no exception.
When I left the HP coven, I left behind my besom named
Hagatha. Once I was told to never step
foot on the property again, I lamented her loss, but there was nothing I could
do about. I put myself in exile, and
removed all my former coven members from my Facebook. I have had no or very little contact with
them since that time. A few months after
I left, I was shocked to receive a message from one of the members, Steph. She had my broom and would love to give it
back to me. I was shocked. This was the
same woman I had felt was trying to take over my position in the coven. I was amazed she would do something nice for
me.
Jay and I went to Steph’s house in our truck, as Hagatha is
about 6 feet long, made of willow and broom corn. She’s too big fit in the car. She’s a gorgeous broom. We visited with Steph for a while. I tried to tell her about Melinda and that I
had been kicked out. She kind of didn’t
want to hear it, and I understand that it was difficult to hear. We thanked her and left. I added her back to my Facebook friends, but
we had not talked in depth in many years.
I knew she was still with the HP coven and I knew the HP would not like
it, if she knew I was contacting her members.
I did not want to make the HP any more made at me, than she already was.
I happened to post something on Facebook the other day and
Steph commented on it. We started
private messaging. I asked how the HP
was. Steph told me that she had no idea,
as she had left the coven a year before. I was stunned. We decided perhaps we should meet up and
visit. So Steph came over and visited
with me yesterday afternoon. We talked
for hours. Catching each other up to
date, on what had been happening in our lives.
The stories that poured from both of us were sad and
troubling. I will not tell you of her
story, as I feel that is her truth to tell you.
But as we talked last night I realized what a dark place Melinda had
taken me too. I had felt that Holda had
moved me out of the HP coven before things got ugly, and it seems she had in
fact done so. I did not understand then,
and I am trying to come to an understanding now. Perhaps I had done what I was supposed to do
there. I don’t know.
In my heart, in many ways, I am still devoted to the
HP. I have refused to use her name, or
to tell you where her coven was located, so as to protect not only her, but
others in her group who might still be in the broom closet. I still respect her, and gods help me, after
everything I still love her. For years I
expected the phone to ring, and it be the HP on the other side saying, “Look we
love you, we miss you, why don’t you come out and have a glass of wine and let’s
talk.” Finally I came to the realization
that what I wanted, would never take place.
I would never go home again, and that is when I finally cut and burned
my cords.
Listening to Steph talk last night, I wonder if such
devotion is warranted. I feel very much
this morning that I am grieving. I think
the thing that always hurt the most, in all of this is that, I never got to
explain how Melinda had snowed us all, and never really understood why I was
asked to leave, other than my association with her. I am still scratching my head as to what I
have done. Steph told me last night, “I
don’t have any answers for you, and I don’t know that you will ever know.” She’s probable right.
I often tend to see the world in black and white. You are either my friend or my enemy. You are good to me or bad to me. You have used me or you haven’t. It’s real hard for me to often see what
people have done or are doing to me.
Gray is often hard for me. I am
trying this morning to decide what category to put the HP in. I have problems with things I can’t
classify. Her actions with both Steph
and me can best be described as erratic and illogical. They just don’t make any sense. My devotion to the HP seems unwarranted. I feel I am grieving my coven, and my
relationship with the HP all over again.
I don’t know whether to be really sad, or really, really pissed off.
I think sometimes a person’s totems can say a lot about a
person. A totem, used in the pagan
since, is a sprit animal a person uses, or one they identify with the
most. Melinda was a spider, Mike D. was
a wolf, and the HP was a snake, all of which bit me or infected me with their
poison in the end. Me, I’m a Polar Bear,
a dog and a goat, as if you couldn’t tell already, fierce, loyal, and stubborn. Even if a person is no good for me, or worse
off using me, it takes me a long time to come to that realization. Then my angry polar bear comes out. It often takes the person in question being
mean to someone I know, before I will react.
One of those you can fuck with me all you like, but you touch my friends
or family and it’s on.
Yesterday’s visit gave me answers, but left me with questions. Dr. Hailey, one of my Anthropology
professors, used to say, “The beautiful answer, that asks the more beautiful
question.” Indeed.
Ilsa
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