Mab of Dream

There's a time to be the Priestess and there's a time when the Priestess knows when to put her hat away and just Be. You are still strong. You're just mourning. The hat will be there when you're done.

Someone anonymously added the above comment to my waffling on about death last week and I did take it on board.

This actually sums up precisely where I am right now, securing my spiritual base and facing my biggest demons on my own. I've always been a creature of extremes, in just about everything I do. I'm no good at middle grounds. If I sink, it's into the abyss; if I fly, then it's to Icarus proportions. If I'm good at something, I excel; if I'm crap at something, a toddler could do better than me. Last week, I slumped; at the weekend, I flew. Now I'm on an even keel, taking a long hard look at myself and my environment. I am not the priestess for this hour, even I agree with that, but there are plenty of other priests and priestesses for it instead.

In the week leading up to WM Mike's death, I did myself a tarot reading. Stared at the outcome and promptly asked Roxanne to do a tarot reading for me as well. She categorized the future into health, whereas I had it broader, into every aspect of my life, but we both fundamentally got the same thing. It was pretty instant as well.

Did you read the book or see the film 'Interview with the Vampire'? There is a scene where Louis walks into the Parisian crypt with a flaming torch and sets each coffin alight, burning down all the vampires therein. That's the flash I got in my head as I looked at those tarot cards. A scorching wave of destruction. I thought I could head it off at the pass, by leaving all those projects and groups. I couldn't. For just under a week, the Tower came down and, at each point, with the right kind of eyes, it might have just been possible to see me standing there with my metaphorical flaming torch. Not so much by action, as inaction. But sometimes, the Tower has to fall and the day looks so much clearer in the rubble.

Priestess... what the fuck does that mean? My pendant hangs from a mannaquin, in the safe-keeping of FT Kate; Witchgrove and Kindly Ones are in somebody else's hands; a group has been formed to oversee the WG web-site; any constituency that I had has been whittled right down to those as only I can truly deal with - and they are few. In short, whether blatant or subtle, I know have my space and I doubt that there is a HP(s) in the world who would initiate me right now.

I've got 1994 and an angry, bitter priestess to deal with first, before I do anything.

yours
Mab
xxxxx