Thursday, November 05, 2009

NaNoWriMo: Day 5

I've bee procrastinating


Happy Place Meditations
When you sit down to meditate do you have a special place that you “go to?” When I was a child I was sexually abused by my stepfather for almost three years. Since I didn't feel safe in my own home, I had to create a safe haven for me to go to when my stepfather was hurting me. It was a little house in the middle of nowhere surrounded by beautiful scenery. The house was small. It had absolutely no rooms and only two windows. There was a fireplace and no back door, yet i still had a kitchen of some sort.

The house was a small brick cottage. from the door you could see directly to the back of the house where there was a window. Below the window was a bad long-ways against the wall. The head of the bed was at the left and southeast corner with a bedside table. At the foot of the bed was a large wooden trunk with clothing and other belongings. A little bit away from the bedside table was a small fireplace. It always had a small fire burning in it. In front of the fire was a large and comfy chair with a matching ottoman and there was a large bookcase full of books against the wall on the left northeast corner diagonally from the chair. Behind this chair, on the opposite side of the fireplace was a small wood-burning stove, a pantry-like cupboard, and a fridge. On the wall above the stove was a window, and above that, on the ceiling, hung a handful of pots and pans.

Directly outside the front door was a pond full of frogs, dragonflies, and coy. Further out, on the northern horizon, were mountains. To the east was a large field and further out you could see rooftops of a decent-sized village. To the west there were woods. while the south had a glorious meadow. Under my kitchen window, which faced the west, there was a small vegetable and herb garden. I was also always visited by a cow.

This safe haven was all in my head and I went there every night to escape from what my stepfather was doing to me. As I got older it became like a second home. After he committed suicide, I stopped visiting this place because I felt I didn't need it anymore, However, as I began to delve further into wicca, I realized this was a good place to visit when I needed to unwind and collect my thoughts.

My given name, the one on my birth certificate, is not Luna. On the contrary, it is something else entirely. But this is the name I go by in the Pagan community. It is the name that was given to me by the goddess one day while visiting my happy place. When I was a child going through all that shit I was put through, I was always visited by a small black cat in m safe haven as well as in my dreams. She was always there, watching me with her yellow, purple-speckled eyes. It didn't matter where my mind was at, what I was dreaming or thinking about, she was always there in the background. Some time after my stepfather's death and shortly after I dedicated myself to my path, Iwas meditating in my happy place when this cat saunters up to me and lands in my lap. I was petting it absentmindedly, sitting at the edge of the pond with my feet in the water when suddenly the cat turned into a women with her head resting on my lap, her dark black hair cascading over my knees. She was beautiful and pale – her skin the color of fresh milk and her eyes gold with violet speckles. I knew who she was then. I knew she was my mother goddess and realized she had always been with me. She had always watched me over me but I had been to afraid and confused to reach out to her. As we relaxed in the sunbeams by the pond she spoke to me. She told me I kenw who she was, which I did. Then she looked up at me with those amazing eyes, placed a hand on my cheek and said, “You are my moon baby; my lunar sky.” And so Luna Skye was born.

I know it probably sounds super corny, but it was real and bautiful and speacil to me. She gave me the name and I wear it proudly. It's super special to me so i only share it with a few people and those in the Pagan community. It also gives me a sense of anonymity so to protect my children from the harm people inflict on the loved one of Pagans.

edited to add more
The Fifth of November
Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.

To me, being American, Guy Fawkes night was just any other night. Tonight, however, I really will always remember the fifth of November.

Today is November 5, 2009 and in my hometown of Ft Hood, Texas, something tragic happened. Fort Hood is actually centered inside of Killeen, where I grew up. I went to elementary, middle, and high school there. I was married and had my first child there. I've lived where I live now for almost 5 years now, but Texas will always be home. Today, at around 130 at the soldier's Readiness Center, a mass shooting was conducted by one of the soldiers. Apparently, a Major, a psychiatrist, ironically enough, was getting ready to be deployed to Iraq when he pulled out two handguns and opened fire on everyone. He was shot down by emergency personnel, but not after injuring 31 and killing 11 victims.

I am horrified and sickened by this man's crime. It's so disconcerting. I was worried sick for my and my husband's family who work in or live near the military base so much so that i started crying while I made dinner. I knew they were all right, but I was terrified and scared and alone. I wanted to be with them instead of at least three states away.

I have been praying for everyone affected by this tragedy, including those close to the gunman. I just do not understand what could have been running through his mind at the time. It was such a senseless act of violence and a so many innocent lives were lost over one man's carelessness and insanity.

I truly have no words. I just pray to the goddess that everyone will be able to heal from this.

word count: 811 1129

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