So it becomes hard for so many to open themselves back up to trust and faith and the belief in the unseen. How can we recover? By letting go of our sense of self and slowly redefining it. Since our trust and faith have been broken, perhaps what we knew to begin with was not truth?
I was told for years that my birthmother was a 17-year old slut addicted to crack cocaine. To further accentuate that I came from worthless stock, I was told that my birthfather was rotting in jail for murdering his marijuana supplier during a deal gone bad. The older I got, the more I learned about these two specific drugs and the more my mind reeled. If my mother had been addicted to crack during my pregnancy and my subsequent birth, I surely would have suffered health problems. I do not suffer those particular medical setbacks. And what pothead do you know kills their dealer when the dealer asks too much? Not highly likely. They'd just go get it somewhere else or pay the inflated price.
My perception changed. It had to change. Facts were laid out in front of me in such a way that I could not argue. I could not hold fast to what I had known. What I had known was a lie and not based in any kind of fact. To keep me under her thumb, my adoptive mother told me the most horrid things she could to try and keep me "in line". She attempted to control me and for several years she succeeded.
In my adult life, I refused to be controlled. If I did something for someone, I was first required to be willing to do it. I still refuse to be controlled and it is causing me a great deal of pain. I had faith and trust that my life, that this attempt at relearning how to love would be different than the prior. I knew that my faith had to be restored in humanity and mankind, especially men.
And as difficult as it was, I realigned my views on people. I succeeded. I trusted someone and was a better person for it. I..m still a better person for it, for I have not yet sunk into the bitterness that used to come from a failed relationship where I was wronged. Kwan Yin has made sure that I have not. She has wrapped me in her concept of Om Mani Padme Hum. She is known as She Who Hears The Cries Of The World, for that is precisely what she did and does. She could have passed from this world of dread and pain into eternal enlightened light. Instead, she turned back to help us, to bring us to enlightenment and the end of pain, emotional and otherwise.
So Pain and Faith are intertwined, for the loss of Faith results in Pain. 9-11 caused outright panic and chaos. With each passing year, the terrorists are still winning. Please note: I am not directing my finger at who the "terrorists" are. I'm not passing my own personal judgment on if it were Islamic extremists or the U.S. Government. That is for others to debate. These terrorists, regardless of who they may be, are still capitalizing on what they did five years ago. I have long forgotten the intensity of the feelings I had that day. I remember the events as though they were yesterday, but I do not dwell on them, for that is what the terrorists wanted.
An Excerpt from Angels & Demons, by Dan Brown:
Langdon's head ached, and he felt like he was skirting the edges of rationality. He watched Vittoria and the camerlengo, but his vision was blurred by hideous images: explosions, press swarming, cameras rolling, four branded humans.I have faith in many things, but logic is what protects me from the fallout pain of misplaced faith. I believe in things unseen and seen and have been let down. I often used to use those letdowns as reasons to become embittered and cranky, not letting anyone inside my heart. But it was hardly a satisfying life.
Shaitan ... Lucifer ... Bringer of light ... Satan ... He shook the fiendish images from his mind. Calculated terrorism, he reminded himself, grasping at reality. Planned chaos. He thought back to a Radcliffe seminar he had once audited while researching praetorian symbolism. He had never seen terrorists the same way since.
"Terrorism," the professor had lectured, "has a singular goal. What is it?"
"Killing innocent people?" a student ventured.
"Incorrect. Death is only a byproduct of terrorism."
"A show of strength?"
"No. A weaker persuasion does not exist."
"To cause terror?"
"Concisely put. Quite simply, the goal of terrorism is to create terror and fear. Fear undermines faith in the establishment. It weakens the enemy from within ... causing unrest in the masses. Write this down. Terrorism is not an expression of rage. Terrorism is a political weapon. Remove a government..s façade of infallibility, and you remove its people's faith."
Loss of faith... Is that what this was all about? Langdon wondered how Christians of the world would react to cardinals being laid out like mutilated dogs. If the faith of a priest did not protect him from the evils of Satan, what hope was there for the rest of us? Langdon's head was pounding harder now ... tiny voices playing tug of war.
Faith does not protect you. Medicine and airbags ... those are things that protect you. God does not protect you. Intelligence protects you. Enlightenment. Put your faith in something with tangible results. How long has it been since someone walked on water? Modern miracles belong to science ... computers, vaccines, space stations ... even the divine miracle of creation. Matter from nothing ... in a lab. Who needs God? No! Science is God.
I was miserable, my existence so small and meaningless. I meant nothing to anyone, least of all myself. Even my children were scattered to the winds, mere toddlers and already had no use for me. The depression set in and I was worthless to the youngest, the one I was entrusted to take care of by biology, the gods and goddesses, the government, and my own actions. He needed me and I was incapable of connecting to him, providing him with the care and love he needed.
He felt it, I'm sure of that, and he reacted in such an uncivilized manner that I began to refer to him as 'demon-spawn'. Many would think this an insult. Many would tell me I'm still a horrible mother for referring to my son with such a horrifying moniker. But let's look at some things first, shall we? I identify with the demon race known as the Succubus and their adoptive mother in lore, the first woman and wife of Asmodai, Lilith. "Demon-spawn", when in reference to my son, is not the insult people think it to be.
I spent a weekend recently with my significant other at the time and when I came home, my son actually greeted me. He ran to me, threw his arms around me, and kissed me profusely. This was odd behavior for him. And ever since that weekend, he continues to be my best buddy. He felt the change in me and reacted. He knew I was high on life and love for everyone and everything around me. My son saw the difference in me.
I had him with me the day things ended. Normally I would have left him at home, specifically to keep him away from such unpleasantries. However, my father was not home, I was out picking up cigarettes, and decided mid-trip to get things done and over with. His presence kept things civil, but I watched him. I watched his eyes and facial expressions. He was suddenly a shy little boy, making coy eye contact with the man I loved, and placing his little hands protectively, almost possessively, on my chest.
For the past few days, with the outpouring of love and thoughtfulness of dear friends, the reaction that I love the most is my son's. He gives me space when he sees I'm about to break down and behaves like a perfect little angel, quietly playing in front of the television with his toys. Within moments, I am my old self again, hugging, kissing and thanking him for being everything I need right now. The little punk has the nerve to blush to which I respond by tickling him and then we wrestle on the floor, his stuffed animals joining in the fray. We're laughing the whole time and it's wonderful.
This is what I always wanted when the thought, "Oh goodness, I'm going to be a mother" crossed my mind. This is what I thought it would be like. Not what I dealt with Samantha and Clara. No. That wasn..t motherhood. I wasn't allowed the option to connect and truly bond with my daughters. My son on the other hand, I have that opportunity.
I wallowed in self-pity when Josh left me that very last time. I couldn't look at my son and realize that he was all I really needed. I couldn't realize his unconditional love because I was so bereft. This time, the goddesses who have shown me their love recently have made sure that I see it, that I embrace it, and that I "wallow" in my son's love and not focus solely on my loss. Amazingly, my loss is Lex's gain and finally mine as well.
I don't know when I will get through my grief. I don't know if I will. But I have so much more than my grief to make me the person I am. My pain only strengthens my resolve and gratitude towards my current path.
I once wrote an essay called "The Narrow Path" (named for a part of my website at the time) and used a forest allegory for how every spiritual path leads through life, that none are more right or wrong than the others. Here is that essay:
The OriginAugust 08, 2004 - 3 months before the birth of my son.
As mentioned in the Introduction of this website, "The Narrow Path" as a title came from the Bible. Before I continue to explain, I want to list the verse for those of you unfamiliar with the Bible and/or who have no desire to flip through a massive tome to find it (of which sentiment, I blame you not.) In the following version, the specific phrase ..narrow path.. is not used, but anyone familiar with this book of text knows that from version to version, wording is sometimes different.
Matthew 7:13-14 "Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow is the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." (NIV)
On May 1st, 1994, I was given a gold colored coin as a confirmation gift. This passage from Matthew is engraved around the edge in easy to understand English. It became a talisman, one that I clung to throughout high school and the typical teen struggle to find myself. Nine years later in May 2003, my grandmother Lona passed away. At her funeral, I found out that she had chosen this passage for her own confirmation verse around 1940. In her last remaining years, Lona suffered Alzheimer's Disease. Amazingly, even through her 77th birthday twenty days before her death, this Matthew 7 passage was one of the few things she could still recite.
This knowledge made my coin an even stronger talisman to me. Now it connected me on an even deeper level than before to an elder of my family. (Please note: Lona and her son Wayne, my dad, are not related to me by blood. Wayne and his wife, my biological aunt on my mother's side, adopted me in 1983.) The coin was a gift from Great Aunt Delores, who knew of both my love for Lona despite the lack of blood times and Lona's confirmation verse. My deep regard for all things Native American, their respect of family, and their ways of life bring this coin close to my heart and mind at all times, along with Lona's memory, even if it says, "Choose Life. Choose Jesus."
The Purpose
Wading through texts and tomes to find your own personal truth is much like walking a narrow trail through a forest. The way can become confusing and difficult. The wrong books can act as logs difficult to get past. The wrong associations with people can act as snaring branches that scratch your face. Not knowing what you are looking for can be the faded paint on signposts making you get utterly and completely lost. All these things can leave you with no idea which fork in the road, or which spiritual path, to continue on.
As time goes on, people find wider, easier paths. These come in the form of covens or organizations or groups of friends. These wider paths give you much needed respite and rest from the struggling path you once walked alone, and you still learn wonderful information to help you in your search for truth. But spiritual truth, your own spiritual truth, is a deeply personal matter.
Many Pagans I have met or interact with are what we call Solitary Pagans. We discuss our paganism and our own paths and our own truths, but we practice alone or at best with a significant other. In this, we travel our own path. Within covens, individuals still practice some of their spirituality in private. In this way, they too travel their own footpath, still visible to the wide trail of the coven. There are Initiates, Priests, and Priestesses who are part of large recognizable traditions. But even these can be found practicing parts of their faith alone within their homes and families. These people travel their own path too, within footfalls of the well-trodden road of the tradition.
No matter if one is a Solitary Practitioner, a Member of a Coven or Circle, or an Initiate, Priest or Priestess of a Grove or Congregation in a specific Tradition, there are points in our daily lives where we practice our spirituality alone. We commune with our deities or nature or God in a solitary manner, walking our own "Narrow Path".
This website, its title, and yes, even my Christian Gold Coin remind us that finding and living our spiritual path is not meant to be the easiest thing in the world. We pass from narrow footpath to narrow footpath, from wide trail to wide trail, constantly growing and learning. If our paths to spiritual awareness and enlightenment were meant to be easy, it would not be worth the time and effort we spend traveling them.
The Narrow Path is yours to find. We only are here but for a moment in time. Make your journey worth the pitfalls and trials you will face.
I am intelligent and beautiful. I am worthy and deserving of love. I deserve to have my life valued. All these things are true. But there will always be the desire to have someone who loves me deeper than anyone else. It's the one thing I've always wanted, that I've fought for harder than anything else, and have never quite achieved. Everything that I have ever valued, I fought hard for and got my hands on in the end. I know what it is like to fight for my life, for the lives of those I love, and to save lives in one way, shape or form.
I have always believed that everything I've been through, all the horrors and trials I have endured, brought me to a point where I could be there for others in similar situations. I've always been the one who allowed people to cry on my shoulder, to turn to me for advice. I handed it out because I knew what I was talking about. But when it came to love, I only ever was able to see the mistakes and say what not to do. When people didn't like what I had to say, I simply told them, "You've seen my track record. I should think I know what not to do by this point. But don't ask me what TO do. I obviously haven't figured it out."
So in my grief, I did a net search for Pagan ways to get through the loss of a relationship and found plenty of links. I only took the first four that struck my interest on the first page only. It was all stuff I knew, but in my times of grief always forgot. I posted them to my blogs as a reminder to myself and as a sign to others that I will not lay down my sense of self. Several points struck cords, specifically a quote by a member of care2.com.
I will not erase his pictures from my hard drive. I will not erase him from my sites. I will not erase him as though he never existed. The past is facts. My history is what made me the person I am. Every experience in my life is a page in my story, every love taught me something new. Every relationship I ever had prepared me for the relationship I had with him. I celebrate what I feel for him and mourn the loss as I would a death in my family. He was my heart and I will always miss him as long as he is out of my life.
I will most likely not post anything of substance to my blogs for a while. Going back to the fluff of daily grind. Nothing profound coming from this corner for a bit, gang. Time to focus on myself and take what he taught me and ruminate for a while. Time to realize that my faith is still not shaken.
Going forward down my path solo, as I always have.
~"Lillith Ubasti"
Elizabeth mK
Originally written November 1, 2006
