Out of the Closet…


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God is definitely out of the closet. ~~Marianne Williamson

I’ve been carrying a secret for a very long time. It started as a curiosity when I was very young. I used to spend hours poring over books that danced around this taboo in my heart. I dreamed of a different life, a different world…one where I was allowed to… no, celebrated for…being who I am. I never told a soul. Not even my best and closest friends. I’d hang around others who seemed to be like me… whatever that meant. They were judged by others to be odd, misfit, creepy… I didn’t understand the judgments. They seemed okay to me. It was all very confusing. I experienced bullying by other children, and judgment by adults, because I was “different.” I gave up trying to fit in with normal people. They seemed to see right through my pretenses of being just like them.

I explored the ways that others thought, acted, and lived normal. I attended church with my Christian friends. When I heard about the message and persecution of Jesus, I thought for sure that I’d be safe in that world. Love & acceptance were taught there. But the practice I observed in his followers spelled out to me, in neon letters:  DON’T TELL THE TRUTH ABOUT WHO YOU ARE. They often quoted their scripture, saying that what I am is a sin, an abomination, punishable by death. I tried like hell to hide my wickedness, to deny this longing, to kill my evil soul.

Adulthood didn’t make my secret any less a burden. Having children shined a spotlight on my secret and made me question my fitness to be a mother. I just knew, in the deepest corners of my heart, that I couldn’t be myself & be a good parent to them. For the greater part of their childhoods, I was dependent on the state to help me house, feed, and clothe them, so I was subject to the opinions of others: social workers, case workers, taxpayers… the unspoken law was this:

If we don’t approve of the way you live your life, you will lose everything.

I buried my secret deeper in the shadows of my consciousness. But I acted out when I thought no one would notice. I played with an alternate identity. At times, I would fully become this other person, so different from the face that I put on in polite company. I thought I could have my cake & eat it, too.

I opened up to one other person about my secret. We had been through many times together– good & bad. I was in my mid-thirties & felt confident that being myself was finally the right thing to do. Despite his belief that he was open-minded & even rebellious, he freaked out. I recognized the potential powder-keg of rejection & shut that door once more. Things would probably never get better if I persisted.

Now, in my graying years, I’ve made peace with my demons. It has nearly cost me everything– my relationships, my sanity, my life– trying to keep this secret. I acknowledge that, in former times, I might have been murdered for being who I am. I recognize that my fear of judgment & persecution has held me back from my own greatness.

I see others opening up to the world with their own deep secrets. My heart swells with admiration for their courage and self-respect. I’m envious of the beauty they reveal in their Coming Out… I want to bloom like them! I want to feel the fullness of being the self I was born to be. I listen to the music of their souls, hoping that some of that power will rub off on me. Surely, if they can Be True, then so can I!

So, here I am. As I write this, I feel a trembling in my solar plexus–the center of Personal Power. All the old fears taunt me: Am I giving you power to harm me by telling you my secret? What will you do with this when you know? Might I lose my job…my friends…my family… all for the sake of telling my Truth? I fear I must justify, explain, or excuse the passions that burn within me or risk losing what matters most.

But fear never serves us…it never, EVER serves the Greater Good. What I am is what I am…(to quote the New Bohemians). The opinions of others have run (and nearly ruined) my life for far too long. I’m ready to reclaim my Power & stand with those brave souls who step before me, out of the closet and into the sun.

I am, and always have been, a Witch. My spirituality revolves around Nature & the unseen, unexplainable Power that creates everything. I am a Wielder of Magick and a Weaver of Dreams. Even without benefit of coven & cauldron, rite & ritual, I have innate powers of influence and intention. My powers have served me & others in my work, in my family, and in my day-to-day dealings. I come by these powers through heredity, through multiple incarnations, and through the blessings of God/dess. I am not self-taught, have not had formal training, have not been initiated into a tradition.  I am a Natural Witch.

I’ll conclude this confession with a few questions for you: What secret are you hiding in the darkest closet of your soul? What has it cost you to keep it hidden? What would the world be like if you were to come out of your closet? Let’s you & I begin a conversation that has been avoided for far too long. It’s easy enough to say “Be Yourself.” Let’s practice what we preach. You are who you are. What matters is YOU. In all your Twisted Glory. In all your Hide-ous Beauty. You’re welcome to Be here.

Blessed Be.

How Much is Enough?


How Much is Enough?

Efforts and courage are not enough without purpose and direction. 
John F. Kennedy 
Read more at Brainy Quotes

Did you ever wonder where Inspiration comes from?

That Call to Create?

Today, mine came from my inbox. (It does that quite often…I think mine likes to leave me messages in hidden places.)

One email came from a fellow blogger who had recently made a major change in her life (Madam Barefoot Butterfly!)

One came from a jewel-crafter I follow (Beader Bubbe!)

How do we know what Enough is?

How much is Enough? (does it have a price-tag? can i get it on sale?)

How do we tell when we’ve had Enough of an unhappy situation?

How do we know how clean is “Clean Enough”?

How do we decide we’ve had Enough to eat… Enough rest… Enough exercise…?

How do we know we’ve been patient Enough… strong Enough… honest Enough…?

Enough. Even spelling that word is confusing. (one of many reasons I think English is a dead language.)

We can’t quantify Enough.

We can’t analyze Enough.

And we can’t leave Enough alone.

How many times have you thought or said: I’ve Had Enough! ? (do we really ever get Enough?)

Did you really mean it? What happened after that?

I’m old Enough to know

and young Enough to laugh about it.

What I have is Enough.

What you have is Enough.

If not, I have Enough to share.

Something is Enough.

And if it’s not, keep looking.

You’ll find it.

01272013

Crazy Annie, Queen of Reality

let freedom ring…

If You Build It…


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It’s not always about trying to fix something that’s broken. Maybe it’s about starting over and creating something better. ~Author Unknown

Once upon a time there were three little pigs. Each was happy in his own little house until that wind-bag wolf came bopping along. (It’s always the BigBad who cause all the problems, isn’t it?)  Just when our porcine protagonists are settling in with a bowl of popcorn and the remote control… BADA-BOOM! Kindling.

When we’re children, we’re told that we haven’t yet begun to live. When we reach adulthood, we’re told we have our entire lives ahead of us. There’s no thought of starting over… we’re just starting.

Soon we’re filling our lives with people, places, and things that matter to us. Education, career, home, family, friends, pastimes, vacations, money, …we’re building Life.

If you build it… along comes the BigBad-Bada-Boom. Life is no longer a building. It’s a roller-coaster.

I hate starting over. There’s something doomy-gloomy about sweeping up the shattered pieces of your efforts… your pride… your hopes & dreams… and discarding them like last night’s pizza boxes. Admitting that “it ain’t happenin’”… wishing it wasn’t happening. The world seems upside-down.

And everyone you know has “wisdom” for you…

cheer up! it could be worse…

you must not have worked hard enough…

what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…

these things happen…

They mean well. Well-meaning folks know what it feels like. Well-meaning folks think they’re giving you roses in these sentiments, but forget how thorny they are to receive. Until they get a well-meant bunch from you.

I love starting over. Clean slate. Fresh perspective. New life. It clears away the cobwebs of habit and routine and …normality (ewww!). Boredom. Endless sameness.  There’s something gloomy-doomy about doing things the same way day after day after day…

Sometimes, a little death is just what the doctor ordered…so to speak.

Starting over is like life after death. Not the big “D” death that signals the end of this stage of your journey…but perhaps the death of a dream. The end of a road you’re traveling. The resounding voice telling you “None Shall Pass.”

Starting over means opportunity. It means beginning a new cycle, a new stage, a new way of being in the world. Starting over is facing the inevitable changes that come to you and affecting that change with your own intentions. That’s a mighty powerful place to be. You’re leading the parade.

Every living thing starts over. Birth-Life-Death, Spring-Summer-Autumn-Winter, Sunrise-Noontide-Sunset-Midnight… each day, each moment, is a segment of the cycles of the universe, spinning out the web of Reality. In the words of Semisonic:

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.

Grieve the loss of ‘What Was’…for a little while.

Starting over is a chance to celebrate What May Be… What Will Be…

…until next time.

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