I haven’t written properly in a while. Part of this was due to lack of motivation and a big bout of writer’s block, but part was also due to not having much time. The reason for the lack of time is probably not as cut and dry as you might think. What I’m about to post is fucking raw and difficult for me to share for multiple reasons. This is straight out of my Book of Shadows – literally. Where there are lines is where pieces of the Book break off. This has been my last few months. I have honestly seriously debated about posting this, because most Witches are very leery about posting things that come from their physical written BOS, and I definitely am. But this mass of sections from mine were a deep and brutal and incredible learning experience. I’ve come into myself a lot more lately… Because I have sort of jumped in bed with Chaos. I’m having a love affair, in the Dreamtime, with one of my biggest fears. A fear, mind you, that I didn’t quite understand was a fear until all of this began. A fear that has led to my current Book of Shadows filling up a hell of a lot faster than I had originally intended. I had to buy a backup one!
CHAOS APPEARS IN TRANCE STATE
From my Book of Shadows
I find myself sinking into trance state, the blue and purple mists settling around me, covering my eyes. I think, and allow my sights to adjust again to that odd light of the inner dimension. The figures of my guides, my ancestors, and the gods are comfortably seated around me. The temporary discomfort I usually feel when vision claims me without being sought is already beginning to dissipate. Clarity snaps like a lens over my sight. Shadows dance in the corners of my eyes, and I see the misty presence of deity – Morrigan – hazily lounging nearby. The dancing shadows are actually Ganesha, comically waving his trunk around, a handsome smile beaming from his glowing face. He snakes his trunk lovingly around my shoulders, and I feel all earthly pain leave my body. I find, looking upward, that I’m shaded by Morrigan’s wings. A reminder of the protection and comfort I’ve always felt in their presence. A reminder, too, that I’ve been neglecting my meditations for far too long.
I stand, their warmth accompanying me as I move forward. This movement feels so good, so natural. I have missed this.
I can see a portal door. It glitters as if framed with millions of stars. I reach for the doorknob and realize I’m grasping at air. I start, but immediately understand what I must do. I close my eyes and visualize the door swinging open to admit me into the dreamtime proper. I open my eyes to the slow and musical lilt of the door’s movement. I walk through and warm air envelopes me. The sun hits me just right, kisses me on the face, and I feel that strange sensation that I have come home. My heart is swelling with the joy of it. There is green all around me. Mountains, beautiful lakes all over the place, and little meadows surrounded by trees. I walk toward one of these secluded spots now, selecting one with a tiny creek very nearby. I settle quietly onto the plush green grass. The chortling rhythm of the water is so soothing that I nearly fall asleep almost immediately…
But sleep is not what I have come to the dreamtime for.
I force my eyes open and I tune into my inner voice, my intuition, to find out why I have been pulled here. In the waketime, it’s just after midday. Usually, I hold off on this sort of work until night, so that I can rest afterward and not miss the day. The clouds give no hint to my quest and my inner voice is strangely silent. It’s eerie. I follow the movement of the clouds. Again, I feel my eyelids heavy with the sweet lure of sleep. I can hear voices on the breeze, and immediately I am alert. I am usually alone here.
The voices are so far away as to be unfamiliar, but close enough to know their owners’ proximity. An old, wolfish instinct makes pricks down my spine. An out-of-place howl begins in the back of my throat, and I fight to suppress it, my instincts readying me to fight if necessary. I feel my fangs descending, filling a sharp space behind my canines. It’s as if a true transformation is near – lycanthropy – but I must stay calm. Personified old fears are coming upon me, and it seems they may greet me with human faces. I rise to my feet again, silently pulling up with the assistance of a sturdy tree trunk. I slip behind its oaken cover and ask it, all silent yet pleading, to please give me shelter. It obliges; leaves come in a silent, swooping motion to conceal me, and just in time, too, for here come fears with faces.
I must not see them as foes…
The thought comes, truly unbidden, and I start at its arrival. This is a test; it must be. A shove into forcing me to deal with my fears – an attempt at shutting down the anxiety that sometimes clamps down on me and wrecks my mind. I have got to learn to see these fears as partners, tools for survival instead of things that defeat me. The things I have put off dealing with for years. This is the time to put a handle on them all.
Things are beginning to get hazy; my sight is swimming and fishbowled…
I do my best to blink away the anxiety. It is difficult, even in the dreamtime, that side of the veil where it usually seems so much easier to manage reactions to the things that, in waketime, would cause me a full-blown anxiety attack. I refuse to be broken and defeated again. I will be damned if I allow myself to stay walled-in and afraid. I’m of no use to anyone, least of all myself, that way. These decisions are small but mighty. I know myself… I know how long it’s going to take me to overcome these fears, especially because I have wilfully held onto them all for far too long.
I peek around the tree with my odd hat and cape of early autumn leaves. A branch lines up my spine, keeping me steady. Cracking steps tell me the fear-monsters are close. Too close for comfort. I will actually see their faces soon. Too soon… I do not even know how many of them there are. How many must I fight? And how will I defeat them? Is my mind strong enough? How changed will I be when all of this is said and done? I realize that these questions are embodiments of my fears…
Fear of failure. Fear of stagnancy. Fear of looking ridiculous to others. Fear of any sort of forward movement. Fear of taking chances, taking risks… Fear of missing opportunities… Fear of missing out… Battling emotions, battling fears, the things that cause my anxieties… The conferred fears of people around me, empathy muddling what fears are mine and what fears are theirs…
Then, I recognize one of the voices as its owner draws near. Him. The figure I’ve seen in dreams and visions for months now… And I can identify him immediately as Chaos. This realization floors me. I know the man whose face has been personifying Chaos to me for weeks, in my own mind at least. Okay, it makes sense to my waking mind; his life is certainly chaotic enough. I know about all the women, and some of his past chaos that he doesn’t seem sure about leaving behind. I know about the changes he has made, but he’s been replacing addiction with addiction. Of COURSE he’d represent Chaos to my dreamtime self. He’s Chaos in the energy sense. I can read him like a book sometimes, but other times, he seems to know when I’m trying to read him.
There’s a small flaw in this choice of representation. If he is meant to be a warning… Then that means I have to learn to distinguish love from danger. Yes, I love this man, despite what I know about him and the fact that it’s not mutual. I saw him last night and didn’t even hug him goodbye as I usually would, mainly because I just had zero energy, but also because reality is blurring… The Chaos in my dreams and visions is presented with his face… Looking at his face in reality is much more off-putting and difficult and sometimes even disturbing. He is my friend; he has never been anything but sweet to me, and yet I’ve been very wary around him. I never used to be.
I never knew that spiritual experiences could involve people I know and that it could affect the way I see people I genuinely care about. But it’s been happening a lot more often lately. Little epiphanies about fair-weather friends and even my closer, more trusted friends…
It’s been quite a ride… At least within my innermost vision. Showing me just how damn foolish my heart is, falling for people who are all wrong for me. I would love it if, even just once, I could fall for someone who is right. Someone magick.
My heart is pounding… I feel the tree under my hands, reassuring me within my vision. Steadying myself, I tune back into the voice of Chaos… I remind myself that it’s not actually HIM, because if I don’t, I will actually begin to associate HIM in the wrong light…
He says my name. That alone is an odd feeling zipping down my spine…
But when he actually says his piece, it is in a manner that HE doesn’t use.
“Why do you seek me? Why do you chase me? I am within you, but you deny me… I am the reason you spin in your own space, reeling from sensations you do not have words to name. I am the thing within you that you pretend not to notice. I am the beast you deny, yet here I am. I chose this face for a reason, didn’t you know? I am what you love, and what you hate, and what you long for despite your fear of me. I am the root of love, and so I look like the man you are in love with. This is my nature. Hearken, little girl, for I will always be a part of you, I will always follo wyou, and I will always know you… Do not deny me any more. You will never, never be free of me.” The leaves rustle as he pulled the branches sheltering me back. He peers into my eyes and smiles, that smile I know so well. “You see? You cannot hide from me.”
“No,” I manage to respond. “I never could.”
He smiles again and retreats. “I am enough for now… Let the others pass. Wake up, little girl.”
My inner sight goes black so quickly that I barely have time to react, let alone prepare myself for the harsh outer light that assaults my corporeal eyes. I gasp and blink and curl in on myself, heart pounding… That has never happened before.
I am still processing it all. I don’t know how to respond to all of this. I feel a bit lost…
I face the shining, yet deeply murky waters of the lake that has become my favorite sacred space; the nemeton who welcomes me into her sweet, living arms, so green, so earthy, in daytime hours a perfect melding of all the elements – fire in the sun, water in the lake, earth underfoot, air all around… And in the moonlit hours, it retains mysticism in the sweet glow upon the water. The elemental spirits here all know my energy, and I theirs. I honor them with deep, immense, and true love that I cannot stop myself from emanating each time I arrive on the park grounds… Even simply nearing it is a release of gratitude and adoration of my Mother Nature… Relief to my soul it is when I go there…
And as I face the lake waters, and see them waving at me as they lap the rocks, I see the messages there. I see and hear all of the things the Universe wants me to see and hear. I feel so attached to that lake. It’s like a spiritual second home. I’ve spent a lot of this amazing journey there. It’s the space I best connect to Mama in… I encounter Chaos there quite frequently. He is far more of a friend to me than I ever thought he could be. I even summon him sometimes, just to gaze into his face, as handsome and tricksy as he quite often can be. That wily smile, so bright and wide, is an odd image to see as it beams up at you along with your own reflection in the lake water. A reminder of what you can embody, wilfully or otherwise, as a Witch and often as a human being. The first time I saw him there, I was still tangled up in fear; high emotions caused me to fly completely off the handle, but he chuckled in my ear, put a hand upon my shoulder, and whispered, “You know I won’t leave your side, darlin’. We are two of a piece. I belong with you, and you belong with me. I am you, and you are me. Never fear me, for if you fear me, you fear yourself.” That deep, low chuckle again. It nearly undoes me. He still holds the visage of the man I will never be with but actually love despite the unkind things I know to be true of him. My friend. I see him each weekend, of my own volition, of course. But I was determined to conquer my fears and my emotions, to keep myself from doing things that would come back to bite me in the ass later. Thankfully, I forced myself to learn the difference between Dreamtime and Waketime… Though many times, Dreamtime is so very much better and warmer than Waketime; and in meditation and in dreams, it seems so much easier to find the best path there, and so very much harder in the waking time.
The whisper of Chaos is like a sweet, warm cordial. I can smell him before he even shows me his face. I can feel him buzzing like a hornet’s nest in deep summer. He is so delicious; in his own dangerous way, he is an inviting piece of cake. He has been so constantly beckoning me lately, utilizing the form he was given in ways I really didn’t quite expect. He defines both his purpose, chaos and temptation. I feel the temptations of lust – over a year I have been without touch, intimacy… I work so hard to keep distinction between loneliness, my true affliction, and the primal need for sex. But Chaos pretends he is my need, and I nearly succumbed more than once. But I am a woman of fierce strength, and I am learning to be comfortable in that strength. I am proud of how far I’ve come, accepting my power-from-within, resisting the temptation to use power-over… But oh! Does Chaos ever send me more temptation than I feel I can handle… But I have handled it all. Every bit.
Deep Within, and at the Between, I abandon my old self – the civility, the manners, the ideals of the society that I really despise at the moment. Khaos doesn’t need to search for me, though sometimes I deliberately make it difficult for him – because it’s a fun game. Gods help me, I’ve fallen in lust with my deepest fear. Or at the very least, my idea of him. I have been more or less celibate for six months or so. I feel incredibly pent-up and frustrated. Nearly every thought I’ve had has been explicitly sexual. I can’t stop myself. I have major standards, so the idea of just picking up a random really disgusts me. I’d honestly rather have a trusted fuck-buddy. But I want a partner who wants to explore but doesn’t push me into the things I don’t want to do. In the Dreamtime, that partner is Khaos. It has been a bit internally awkward for me to see Him in the social situations, but hot damn… In Waketime, it’s so hard to keep myself from going overboard when I “play by myself.” What Dreamtime playtime with Khaos has brought me is intimacy. He holds me, teaches me to relax in his arms. Now that is the true craving for me. To be held like I’m the most precious person in the world for my partner, to have my hair played with, my back scratched just the way I like it. Learning how to listen to his silent needs, to his body, to his heartbeat – that’s been so very fulfilling to me (even though it’s all in my head!). It sort of makes me feel a bit selfish; I don’t remember being as considerate to certain lovers prior to this. In terms of sex and intimacy, I’m not very grown. I’ve had for long-term partners and one one-night-stand. My track record isn’t conducive to much by way of experience. I need to learn the value of sensuality. I think back to a particular sensual experience (too explicit/personal to share here), and I think that’s what I want to experience again… So how do I find it? How do I get to that level of trust again? And more to the point…. Who can handle me?!
Khaos stroke my skin
in the dewy morning light
brightness encloses me in trust
I relax my body, feel it sink
down into the downy soil and grass…
he alights a kiss upon my wrist, soft
and my own light is awakened
I rise to meet his kiss
surrender to the sensation
he so expertly bestows upon me
I am slowly knitting back together
my broken self is almost through
and he reminds me
with a kiss of wanting
and a smile
I realize that this is a lot of… crazy. From my own perspective, it’s definitely crazy. But I’ve learned a lot from this. Firstly, we create our own reality. My reality lately has been really… surreal. I live in my head more than I live out of it, which is really unbalanced, and something I wasn’t quite understanding until recently, and now I’m attempting to be more balanced and seeing all sides of everything – inner, outer, etc. I return to Khaos in dreams, walking down a path that’s becoming more and more familiar night after night, through trees and ducking under branches, leaves caressing my skin; all of it so absolutely alien to me but still so familiar… He says he’s mine. I say I belong to all. He knows.
What is my life even?