Remembering Our Fallen Trans Family

Tonight was the beginning of the Transgendered Right of Ancestor Elevation.

Today was also my testosterone shot.

Tonight I carefully made sure of my materials, my words, and then I showered. I showered physically and did more than a little spiritual cleansing. I grounded and centered. I shaved, so I would be smooth faced as I walked into this rite. I washed my hands, loaded up my syringe, and pumped testosterone into my body. It went in smooth, none leaked, no blood spilled. I felt my dead with me then.

My injections are weekly, and after almost five years I am remarkably bad at them. I have always injected myself. Initially, I had no problem. But these days, I usually bleed. I try not to bleed all over my bathroom floor, but it's my floor so I worry less than I would have when I did not live alone. I bleed, and they hurt. Not all the T gets into me.

Tonight's shot was not lined up perfectly, but it went smoothly. No blood. No minor seepage of my testosterone oil to wipe up even. Nothing. My dead were with me, celebrating in the glory of my injection.

I gathered things together, a white cloth for the alter cloth. A fabulous purple, sequined cloth from a lesbian wedding to go with it. A white candle I had on hand for ancestor work. Handmade incense to carry my words. Matches. A large cool glass of clean water.

The first night of elevation, and I was overwhelmed. Eight more glorious nights of specific attention. Of remembering. Of love and touch. Of comfort. Of carrying their tears and anger.

Hail to all those Fallen Trans Dead. May you drink deep. May you never thirst. May you find what you seek, and know that you are remembered. We miss you. Hail to our Fallen.

C is for Courting

Late... due to Nemo. The storm, not the fish.

Sometimes Deities stay at a distance. Spirits stay out of your life, and the mundane remains the focus of your life. Sometimes the world comes crashing down around your ears as Someone decides to get involved. But there is an in between space. Sometimes, you get courted.

Courtship... in so many ways a prelude and yet it is often all consuming. Outside of the spiritual/religious realms, we as a society are taught to fixate on the early stages of relationships. Does I like them? Do they like me back? Were they flirting? Why do I always make a fool of myself in front of them? Is this a date? On and on, we are engrossed to exhaustion. NRE comes and suddenly logic flies out the window. It is no surprise that something so dominant in our societies has become a tool of the Gods.

Though don't be surprised either if they use courting techniques that aren't so common anymore. They have many more years of courtship rituals to draw upon, and They will use whatever They so chose.

A flower here. A whisper there. Spaced out, wondering if it's all in your heard or if that Someone is actually noticing you. Not being sure if you actually want Their notice, because in so many ways that can be terrifying. Is terrifying. Even the questioning "Is this what I want?" can shake a person to the core. This courtship can come out of nowhere. It isn't always your "type" of Deity who comes knocking and doing the equivalent of asking you out. (For some people, not equivalent, they are being asked out by said Deity.) The courtship is a choice. It's a dance. They step, you step, perhaps a slow waltz, perhaps it's capoeira.

It is a two way street. Yes, you can go out and court Them, but just like with people, They have every right to reject you. Maybe you'll get a reason, such as "you're not what I'm looking for," and that will probably suck a lot. Rejection is like that. And it is rejection, so don't forget to treat it as such, and respect how much it will probably suck for you to feel said rejection. But as I said, two way street, you are perfectly allowed to reject them. Except, rejection has consequences. This will probably not endear you to Them. Perhaps it will slide by, with little effect. On the other hand, rejecting Hermes right before a lot of travel could very well lead to canceled flights and mechanical errors. I'm not saying this is likely, but if Someone is going through the effort to court you, just be prepared for the potential reaction if They're suit is rejected. Though that isn't how a failed suit necessarily ends. Sometimes things just fall to the wayside, sliding out of your life unnoticed until they day you sit up and realize it's been gone for a while. That happens too.

I like being courted, by mortals or by Them. I like courting too. I appreciate the structure of reaching out, learning about one another, and most importantly, the easy ways to refuse. Yeah, rejection sucks, but at least through courtship there are viable routes of rejection. "I'm just not that into Y/you" is a completely legitimate response, and approaching things this way makes that response appropriate.  I'm a huge fan of consent, and this is one of the easiest ways for any and all parties to have an appropriate "out" early on. Not to mention it's a good deal politer on our side of things, instead of banging down the door begging for attention.

But for me, the biggest "Holy shit this makes sense" part of the courtship thing? I'm an oblivious person. In fact, I can (and have) sat friends down and explained every nuance of the body language of someone who was flirting with them. I broke it down and laid it out so they could both understand and reciprocate. Someone flirts with me? I'm totally clueless. Someone attempts to court me? I don't notice a damn thing, even when that Someone isn't at all subtle about it.

Thank you flashing neon signs of subtly.

PBP: A is for Ambivalent

Ambivalent is a delightful word, but not what many people assume. I like it's denotation. Definitionally:  simultaneous and contradictory attitudes or feelings (as attraction and repulsion). Thank you Merriam-Webster.

Simultaneous. Contradictory.
Concurrent. Opposing.

As a person I am filled with ambivalence. I am rarely apathetic, but often appear to others that way because I am filled with such a mix of strong emotions. Getting excited meant being told to "calm down" or "there's no need to be upset" even if all I was doing was expressing interest. So, unless there is a strong emotion without a similarly strong opposition, I tend not to express myself overly much. There are too few words for adore/abhor, for petrified/pleasing, for desire/disgust... There is this notion that when you mix strong emotions, it is black + white = the banal flat grey. Instead, ambivalence is akin to mixing colored light. Red + Green = Yellow. A whole new color emerges. Magenta (Blue + Red) + Green = White. We always think of white as an absence of color, despite many of us knowing that really it is all the colors, formed by compliments and contrasts.

My path is one of opposition.

I am a person filled with ambivalence, so it is not shocking that ambivalence fills my spiritual practice as well. Strong contradicting emotions are an underlying theme in much of what I do. I am ambivalent towards much of Judaism, especially to the many things that leave any ancestor work out of the question. I am ambivalent even towards something as basic as meditation. I dread and welcome my dreams as well.

Every bed I slept in with regularity (in the years prior to my current bed) was warded against dreams. Not just warded to keep me from dreaming, but from all dreams. I daydreamed elsewhere. I drew up wards strong enough that a former lover could not spend the night in my bed because she would wake up unrested if she didn't dream. I warded good dreams and bad dreams, portents, contacts, and the ramblings of my own mind. I had to refresh them regularly, for they took quite a beating from my sleeping mind.

I warded against dreams because most of my dreams were nightmares, many related to my history of trauma and abuse. The little relief I had from nightmares were not actually better, as instead it became an escape from reality that made it incredibly difficult to function the following day. Knowing that without wards I had a 95% chance of not being able to handle it, I created quite possibly the strongest wards I have ever consciously set my mind to make. Repeatedly. (Especially as I moved quite often in those years.) Rather than attempting something beyond my capacities, I delayed dealing. It was a marathon to deal with, and attempting would not only leave me tired, sore and no where near the finish line, I was incredibly likely to injure myself in the process.

Since moving to this apartment, no wards against dreams have been erected. This bed, with two and a half years under me, is not a fortress against dreams. I relish each dream I receive, because with the years of warding they are infrequent. I remember them poorly, and understand them even less. I relish each one, even while I dread the dreams that leave me broken.

For me, not even love of Those Who I Work With is unopposed by another contradicting emotion. Nor do I think it should be (at least, for my current relationships with Them.) My gnosis and belief is filled with skepticism. I mix lights to bring out the shape of things, to bring out their shadows.

I need a word for adore/abhor. For disgusted desire. We know these states, but so rarely do single words describe the ambivalence. So, I seek words that describe them, the simple word to capture the rainbow in white and the contrasting shadow.

Decided to do PBP2013 with the following attitude in mind: Posts will happen when the time coincides with something that makes sense for me to post publicly. Just figured I'd mention in case anyone is going through this blog as a whole/not just from the Pagan Blog Project.

Sometimes Beginnings Suck

I usually start off a new journal with writing a sentence or two about how difficult it is to make the first mark in a pristine journal, the first mark on the first page. All this blank space waiting to be filled, but already it is filled with potential and expectation. Even when the expectation is my own and no one elses, there is expectation to write Great Things.

I feel that way about blogs. New blogs, or blogs I that I have not written in for some time, are full of expectations. Why am I writing? Why did I not write? As if I need to justify the existence of the blog.

So, really, if anyone does end up reading this, I'm sorry. This entry is not for you. Even though blogs, by nature, are written with the public audience in mind, this entry is not really for you to read. Writing for an audience impacts my thoughts and styles, helps me be thoughtful about diction and grammer, and can help me connect to an online communities which are lacking in my meat space at the moment. This blog, no matter how much inherent narcissism exists in the medium, is always at least a little about the you-that-is-not-here-yet.

It is here to make that first blemish, to lower my own expectations. It's easier to address you-who-do-not-yet-exist. This way when I hit publish I will feel that something was actually accomplished. The shiny will fade into tarnish, and I will be content that this blog does not need to be filled with profound life changing thoughts, rituals, spells, and prayers. It is enough that it is filled with life's thoughts, rituals, spells, and prayers... and it is enough that life will inevitably change. Hopefully, I will capture a bit of that life and a bit of that change in here.