A blog post on names, part 1/2

Part of this will be copied from Tumblr, and the rest are my own thoughts.

First, the Tumblr post. It is posted and written intended for trans men, but it speaks to trans women who are discovering and reclaiming themselves.


Most transguys go through the experience of choosing their own male name. This can be a difficult process, as you’re making a decision that will stick with you for the rest of your life. Tread carefully, as your name is often an integral part to shaping the first impression you send to other people. There are three major approaches most guys take in choosing a name: using the name your parents would’ve chosen for you had you been born male, choosing the masculinized version of your original name (i.e. Michael from Michelle), or choosing a unique name you feel best represents you and your identity.

Using the name your parents picked out for you at birth ensures that you’re using a name that is appropriate to your birth year and is a good way to acknowledge your parents during your transition. This is a particularly good choice if your parents are supportive of you as it includes them in your process. This honors your parents original choice and may make them a little more likely to use your chosen name.

The masculinized version of your name also respects the name choice your parents made because it sticks with the overall theme that they envisioned. These are also easier for your family and friends to get used to, as they often sound similar to what they are used to calling you. This also is a good idea if you want to keep your initials, which can be helpful if you have a student email address that utilizes your initials.

Choosing an original name is good for people who want to experience a symbolic break from their previous identity or to represent their rebirth through their transition. It is very popular for people to use gender neutral names like Alex or Dyan. People also often will utilize “fashionable” names that are popular right now (Jayden, Xander, etc) or names with unusual spellings (“Zander”, “Aydan”, etc). The only thing to watch for here is that these names may draw attention to you or mark you as obviously trans. This may or may not be a problem, but keep in mind that some people may not take you seriously if your name seems very trendy or will struggle with using your new name.

We settled on some basic guidelines for choosing a name, regardless of what approach you take:

1. Think about using your name in various situations: applying for a job, placing it after various titles (Dr. Mason Smith, Mr. Tim Adams, etc), using it as an old man or a father, etc, etc

2. Think about what names were popular the year you were born. This may or may not be something that is important to you, but having a name that corresponds with your age may help you fit in (if that’s your goal). Here’s a website that lists popular names for different years and calculates the changing popularity of different names: http://www.ssa.gov/oact/babynames/

3. Keep in mind that you can use whatever nickname you’d like with whatever spelling, but that your legal name is what employers and colleges will see. There have been sociological studies conducted concerning what names communicate to employers, and people with traditional names fare better in terms of call-backs and hiring than people with non-traditional names. It may not be right, but it’s true.

4. If your parents, friends, and/or family are supportive of your transition, it may be nice to include them in this important process. Remember that your parents likely agonized over what to name you, and they may feel a little offended that you are casting off something they put so much thought into. It’s always nice to make supportive friends and family feel included, especially since they may feel a huge lack of control during your transition.


Now that you've waded through that, it's my turn. ^_^

(For those of you who don't know, my legal name is Samuel Shane Vise.)

The topic of my name has been on my mind since 2004, when I first really began my gender journey. Crossing that line from "being male" to "being female" is a big step, with a lot of changes and repercussions to consider. The obvious ones usually are along the lines of "What will (insert person/group here) think?" and show those around you for who they are, whether they can handle change and want to see you happy. But the truly important ones are more internal than that. "Is this really who I am?" "Can I handle the potential loss of loved ones, friends, my job and the safety of the role I've been fulfilling?" With those also come smaller scope, yet no less important things, including your name.

It says a lot about you. One of the first things is that, in theory, it informs the listener of your gender. If someone who looked like, say, Cindy Crawford for example, were to be introduced with the name Michael Cosgrove (the example names I'm using are pulled out of thin air btw), the typical first reaction would be confusion. How you are introduced says other things as well, like nicknames. A person named Candace could smile and ask to be called Candy and then people might expect her to be relatively easygoing, possibly even have some experience in dance or cheerleading. (Yes, I'm in stereotype hell atm. Just relax and enjoy the ride.) Or, conversely, she could firmly correct those who breach that familiarity and insist on being called Candace, which could imply, for good or ill, a no-nonsense attitude, where she gets things done and is rather proper.

It can also inform those around you of your family and origins. An ethnic name like Emmanuel could lead someone to believe they were of Hebrew origins (whether specifically from Israel or not). Angelique could have parents who are French. Then there's the scary urban legends of "creative" parents who have named their children Female (rhyming with tamale), vaGina (like Regina), Shithead or, like in this story, a dad who named his first girl Facebook.

http://techcrunch.com/2011/02/19/facebook-egypt-newborn/

So, the point to all that is that a name is an important choice for someone who is starting a new stage in their lives. So I joined the ranks of those who are planning to change theirs.

My first choice was Stacy, after one of the girls I had a huge crush on when I was younger, but that fell to the wayside to be replaced with Samantha Erynn. (It's only been within the last year or so that I've given a lot of thought to changing my last name.) It's easy, since I could just say earlier on in my transition "Just call me Sam," which then progressed to Sammi. However, again, over the last year or so, it's been beginning to feel like a glove that doesn't fit as well as it used to.


At this point, the post has gone on for a while and I'm going to take a break and go try that crazy idea of sleep, to give my lovely readers a chance to catch up on the latest.

kitten and chat

For some reason I want to discuss how I interact with new people in chat.

I have accounts at various networking sites. Some I'm out as not biologically female, others I leave it ambiguous. Sometimes, I feel off about it. Some people would consider me a liar or a freak from the start, others would simply call me a "trap" as if that is all that needs be said. (For those lucky few who don't know, a "trap" is a slur for transwomen, implying that our entire purpose is to "trap straight men and make them gay")

The sites where I simply present as an average woman, more often than not, are hypnosis type sites. The reason I do is thus: too many people judge me for not being "normal". I've met some people who, immediately upon finding out, decide, with no input from me, what I'm looking for. They assume that I only want to be hypnotized and feminized, as if that's the only thing that a trans woman could ever want. It's as if I have no other interests. Like philosophy, massage, submission for it's own sake. To be told what I want, regardless of what I say or show, is one of my big pet peeves.

I often meditate on some of Hollywood's philosophy, to satisfy my soul. "You'll find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on a certain point of view." To me, I'm stating what, to me, is a simple truth from my view. I will not be bound to a view that limits me innappropriately.

an elaboration and more mental floss, part 2: the Quickening of the Electric Boogaloo

(here's part 2.. duh lol)

I am in an uncommon situation, to be sure.

I walk the line between masculinity and femininity.

I was given a male role as I grew up, though it never felt quite right. I was trained and scared into accepting it as best I could. As I grew, I found it harder and harder to stay in that role. I'm still dancing back and forth across that line, though I do spend more time on the right side for me. Why, you might ask? Too much chaos in my head, not enough money and no insurance. That's where I am. If I end up staying as a woman with a penis? So what? If I go all the way and have the surgery? Good for me, but it shouldn't matter. If someone judges me strictly by what I was born with (not just my genitals.. people judge on body shape, on little things like an adam's apple, a funky voice, body hair) then they are irrelevant and shallower than a) they care to realize and b) I care to deal with.. Plus, the people who really matter won't judge me by that. They will accept and love me. Will they be perfect? No one is incapable of making a mistake.

I want to be romanced. I want to be swept off my feet, wined and dined. Sometimes I even want to be treated like a sex object by someone I'm comfortable with. Grope me, feel me up, catcall at me. Just remember that I'm a woman! Don't let a little flesh dangle in the wrong place turn you away. It's only one small (ok, I've been told it's not that small) part of me, only one facet of a gem.

I'm going to be a blunt bitch here. This is not directed at any one person, so please don't think it is, or try to justify it to me. (Honestly, all that does is make me feel less free to share my feelings.) People tell me they don't want to "rescue me", or they don't understand, or that they are weirded out by little things I do or have. Know what that translates to in my head? "You make me uncomfortable in some little way, so I'm just not going to think of you like that in order to lessen that." Know where that leaves me? Alone, even in a crowd, hurting, wondering what I have to do to be thought of that way. Holding a cold blanket when I go to bed alone, again. And wondering what I have to do to stop feeling the pain, tempted by empty promises and considering killing off the wounded, vulnerable parts of myself.


Whether it's how things are outside of my head and heart is irrelevant. I know intellectually that there are people out there who care for me, who want to love me. But until better things can penetrate the chaos and darkness that has been beaten into me, I remain alone, crying and wondering what I am doing wrong.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's note:
Yes, this ended in a much darker place than it started. I'm not going to apologize for expressing myself and what's in my head. Yes, it's dark. Yes, it shows up a lot. No, I will not be shamed into pretending everything is all sunshine and daffodils. My head is not a happy place. I live in it every day. I can either express myself and try to work it out or I can suffer in silence and let it eat away at me until I can't take it anymore. Yes, there are positive things in my life, and I will talk about them from time to time. However, a) this is MY blog, and b) I feel the dry harsh deserts more constantly than the shining oases of happiness. At best, I get to a calm grey zone on a normal basis where I can function and truly laugh. Goddess knows, I appreciate those oases and without them I would be much worse off without them. Please understand that. When I have the resources and less chaos to deal with, I will happily get therapy to work it out. Until then, the darkness is where I am chained.

an elaboration and more mental floss, part 1

I wanted to expand on what I wrote earlier, specifically on the dichotomy between masculine and feminine.

This:
I am feminine:
I am a life-giver;
I am a creator;
I am soft and gentile;
I am a nurturer;
I gather when needed;
I am a woman with a man's body, but I do not let that define me.

I am masculine:
I am a life-taker;
I am a destroyer;
I am hard;
I am a protector;
I hunt when needed;
I have a penis, but i do not let it define me.

(This is Part 1 - gender roles in general.. part 2 is more about me)

First of all, the traits I listed are some that are stereotypically (and some consider arbitrarily) assigned to each gender. None of the traits I listed are negative when taken in context. The best example of the context I'm thinking of them is from an old Role Playing Game system by a company called White Wolf.

In the mythology for their story "Werewolf: The Apocalypse", the highest beings were a triad that were called The Wyld, The Weaver, and the Wyrm. The Wyld was pure, unrestrained creative energy, and places like a jungle or rain forest were places where it's influence shone through the most. Next, there's The Weaver, which is a force of organization and order, and it is best seen in a major city like NYC; roads in a crisscross pattern, blocks and buildings clean and crisp. Last, but certainly no less important, is the Wyrm. It's job is to destroy, in order for there to be more for the Wyld to create from and an end for the next beginning to spring from. They worked in beautiful harmony for aeons, in a symphony of creation, life and death, in order for everything to run smoothly. The game itself is set after the Wyrm has fallen to madness, whether by some random bit of corruption on it's own or if the Weaver tried to order death and threw it out of balance, but that is outside the realm of my post.

Where it relates to my discussion is that we are the perpetuators as well as the recipients of that type of cycle in order for life to continue. We create, we organize things in our minds, we kill them in order to continue living until we ourselves die. Again, it's a beautiful symphony. To demean any one part of it is to demean the whole. To degrade it is to spit upon the very process by which you are sitting here reading my words on your screen. Life is given by nature, whether you believe the hand of the divine is involved or not. We learn about how things are ordered. Plants and animals die in order to sustain us. We grow and learn our place in the circle of life (and no, I will spare you the joke and Elton John lyrics ^_^), until it is our turn to pass, and in turn fertilize plants for other animals to eat. It's when any of them are out of balance that things go wrong. If the Wyld within us goes unchecked, growth is rampant and cancerous, which hurts life as a whole. When the Weaver goes into overdrive, there's stagnation because creativity is bound and ordered, and it dies. If it's the Wyrm that falls to madness, it's pointless, all-consuming entropy and the nothing can survive.

That is why I say it's a beautiful thing when I say that as a masculine being, I hunt, destroy and take life. (Which, technically, *I* don't.. I benefit from others who do it for me.) I do my best to keep myself in balance in order to perpetuate and better my life and the lives of those around me.

Some people try to erase the differences in an attempt to increase equality between the sexes. This is erroneous, it negates some of the most beautiful things about each gender and it diminishes us as a species. I see masculine and feminine traits as a beautiful yin-yang, complimenting and us, both within ourselves and with friends, family and lovers.

I AM!

I've been doing a bit of thinking tonight. The seed was planted as I read "The Spiral Dance" by Starhawk, then I got the urge while I was out walking and the moon touched me as I looked up to Her, and I felt inspired and guided while I was in the shower. So here it is.

I am feminine; I am masculine.
I am Divine; I am mortal.
I am an adult; I am a child.


I am feminine:
I am a life-giver;
I am a creator;
I am soft and gentile;
I am a nurturer;
I gather when needed;
I am a woman with a man's body, but I do not let that define me.

I am masculine:
I am a life-taker;
I am a destroyer;
I am hard;
I am a protector;
I hunt when needed;
I have a penis, but i do not let it define me.

I am Divine:
I am a child of the Gods;
I am made of star-stuff;
I can influence the energy of the cosmos;
I am precious to the infinite;
I am connected to everything.

I am mortal:
I am fallible;
The star-stuff that i am from was dirt before it was me;
I know how minute i am compared to the infinite;
My head may be in the sky, but my feet are on earth;
Even when connected, I am separate and unique.

I am an adult:
I am relatively self-sufficient;
I am responsible for my actions;
I have held full time jobs;
I have lived without the safety net of parents;
I have lots of life experiences;
some of those I pray children never go through.

I am a child:
I need to be held and told everything will be ok;
I sometimes just want to know why without end;
I sometimes want my mommy (whoever she is);
I enjoy simple things like a pretty day or laying down and coloring;
I miss my teddy bear and like snuggling a blanket.


I am human:
I am all of these things and more;
No one thing defines me;
I have many facets to my being yet one being;
I am broken and yet mending;
I am learning more every day;
Until the day I return to that which birthed me.

Things I really want

I want to be looked in the eye, given a rose and told how much I mean to someone.



I want someone to hold me when I go to sleep.

I want someone to hold my hand and squeal with me when good things happen, and to tell me it'll be ok when bad things happen.




... I want the stupid brain-drama to stop.

...The abyss stares back at you.

Getting that mental floss out felt so good last night I think I'm going to do it again. Not as long tonight, cause I started this later, but you get to hear me ramble on some more.

So, last time, you heard a Cliffs' Notes version of the negative aspects of the past 28 years of my life. Tonight, I will discuss where that leaves me mentally. You'll probably hear a few familiar themes, since I referred to them in the previous post. Deal. It's my blog and I'll repeat if I want to. (Yes, btw, I'm feeling a bit better tonight, even if I'm rather sleepy from staying up so late last night. Won't happen tonight. At least, I hope it won't.)

So, without further ado, here's some of the darker things bouncing around my head.

People leave. They are in my life for varying periods, and then they drop out. Almost every person in my life has left, whether leaving in a huff or due to drifting. Even my own parents, people who are typically supposed to be there through thick and thin and love you no matter what, didn't want me in their lives. So what does that say about my chances with every other person on this planet? What's the point of making any sort of connection or commitment, when it will be lost as if written on sand? Despite those questions constantly (and gods, do I mean CONSTANTLY) ringing in my head, I can't help but continue to seek connections, to want to make commitments to people. It's very disconcerting, to see someone who I enjoy being friends with (or explore and see if we can be more) and to feel that desire and the almost feeling of almost inevitable pointlessness of it clashing in my head, fighting like two giant titans of old; the darker side pointing out how people have yet to prove true, the more hopeful outlook demanding that I give people a chance.

- (There is one exception that proves the rule. She has stuck it out with me longer than my parents, even with long periods of me being incommunicado for whatever reason. She has given me hope, to balance the many letdowns.)

People hurt me. Part of the reason for that is I'm already hurting and they are just picking at old sore spots. It could be intentional or not, but it still happens. Some examples of sore spots that come to mind:

1. I have a need that's not being met.

2. I could see someone I care about getting needs met.

3. It could be that someone didn't explicitly invite me to something.

It could be any of a hundred little things, real or imagined, but they still hurt. It's my pain, even when it's just butthurt. Does that mean I expect the world to cater to me? Not at all. But I'm opening myself to this blog in order to try and start healing myself, which means letting people know that yes, there are a lot of times I take things personally and hurt over it, but I try not to show it.

- By the way, with regard to #3: I follow my Lady's idea with regard to envy as opposed to jealousy.

Jealousy is when someone has something you want and you feel they shouldn't have it unless you do.

Envy is the same situation, except that you accept their happiness and seek to fill your desire/need without

letting your lack of things darken your heart.

Where does that leave me? I have some connections and commitments, and I want to keep them and do right by the people in my life. I really do. But there's a loud part of me that says it's not worth it. It sits on top of a heavy fortress, well-protected, that makes it hard to believe that I'm worth it, and that others don't care and will leave. All I can do is try and take the fortress down stone by stone faster than it can be rebuilt. Be patient with me. It wasn't set up in a day, and it will take time to tear it down. The best way you can help? Stay patient when I'm upset at something that might seem silly to you. If we're in physical space, offer me a hug, or just touch me in a way that says you care. That little bastard on top of the fortress of despair and self hate? He's a crafty one. I have no problem offering hugs to people. But he often whispers in my ear that they are simply accepting the hugs in order to be done with me, that they don't really want it.

Some navel gazing.. or, "If you stare into the abyss long enough..."

I've been doing something very dangerous lately. I've been doing introspection. Pondering the twisted, knotted, dark mess that is my mind and seeing if I can at least figure out some of what's what, and maybe (big fat hopeful maybe here).

1. I don't know for sure if it's depression, but I do know that, if I'm 100% honest, I really don't like myself. I tend to assume people don't want me around, that I'm not attractive to people, that every negative thing said about me is correct until proven otherwise. I see no reason why people want to see me, so when they don't push me away I feel like a little puppy. Conversely, if I don't hear from people for a long time, I tend to just assume they've had their fill of me and I cut my losses. It's why I don't really fight to keep people in my life. I figure they probably didn't want to be there anyway. Which leads to:

2. People leave. This has been one of the constants in my life. I was given up for adoption as a baby. I've had a string of ex-girlfriends across about 4 states now (9, not counting the ones that held that title for less than a month) some of whom explicitly promised that no matter what happens, they'd never leave. My adoptive parents, the couple who *CHOSE* me and raised me almost from birth, kicked me out of their lives 6 and a half years ago, because of stupid things. Which leads to:

3. People do hurtful things. I know this one is a giant duh. It's also another constant in my life. (This one is going to be long, so you might want to take a moment and breathe before starting... Done? ok!)

3.a. I always felt like a second class kid with my parents. My sisters got to go out and see friends whenever they wanted, cuss, smoke if they chose to, drive when they were ready. (hell, my parents bought the youngest one a *MUSTANG*) It was hinted that *THEIR* preference was that I go work offshore like my dad does/did. They flat out refused to help me for college (though my mom had no problem blowing through dad's money on fancy new cars with all leather interior, leather furniture and gorgeous landscaping), so when it was time for me to go, I fought and got financial aid for everything and lived on campus, even though it was maybe a 20 minute drive from their house. Getting the financial aid was a fight, since until you reach 24, federal standards require a copy of your parents' tax information. During this, through some bizarre freak trip through the Twilight Zone, I get arrested and charged with a crime. (No details on that. it's not relevant, nor is it something i want to dwell on.) My parents, for some odd reason, decided that I was guilty, despite *THEM* raising me better and anyone who knows me knows I'm not that STUPID. My lawyer, a family member called in from New Orleans, does a half ass job of defending me, but I'm still in such shell shock over everything that I just can't bring myself to do much, not to mention that he keeps dangling "if you want to risk going to jail, I'll fight this for you, otherwise just take the plea bargain" in my face. After that, my parents decided that was "the final straw," sat me down and proceeded to tear me apart, doing everything in their power to break me emotionally for about 2 hours, then telling me to "get a job, get an apartment, and get out of our lives," and that I had until noon the next day to get my stuff out of the house. Needless to say I never really looked back. I've been contacted a few times, because supposedly my mom is sick and may not make it through the year. A small part of me wants to call, hoping she will say "we made a mistake. we love you and we're sorry." The rest of me more expects her to tell me she's sorry she ever chose me, that I'm going to hell and I'll never amount to anything. Frankly, I am tired of sticking my hand into that hornets' nest.

3.b. There's a loooong list of people who have hurt the hell out of me, whether intentionally or not. Peers in school for almost 12 years made me feel like I was worth nothing but scorn and contempt. For my first few years, I did walk to my parents' car almost EVERY DAY in tears, with one person in my class doing the best she could to help me. Most teachers couldn't be bothered, and the ones that did care couldn't really do anything. Some went out of their way to find me and harass me (one even GOT EXPELLED from our private grade school THREE TIMES), while others simply shunned me when I came around. High school was slightly better. College was better because I was surrounded by a new group of people, since the ones who knew me were all scattered across the south.

(this one is another long one.. sorry)

3.c. The romance department hasn't been kind to me overall either. I didn't date in high school, for reasons both obvious and ones I haven't mentioned because I don't want you, gentle reader, to have to deal with a head that has exploded. After that, from 1999 to 2002, I was in seclusion for personal reasons related to the previously unspoken reasons. From 2002 to 2011, as I mentioned at the beginning of the post, I count 9 ex girlfriends. (There's more who lasted a few days up to 3ish weeks, but those don't count because a month is my arbitrary line for keeping serious mental records after they've left my life.) For about 3 of those, I made mistakes and that ended things. I own that. I screwed up. But for the most part, I seemed to be under some kind of planetary alignment or curse or something. Things would be going swimmingly for about 3 months. Then, about that time, CRASH! BOOM! SCREECH! It ends rather abruptly. Some of them were doozies, however.

One I helped get a job, and happily drove her to and from work. I convinced my roommates to let live with us. She was vivacious and grabbed life by the horns. She was hot in bed. Then, out of nowhere, she decides to leave, tells me one thing, and each of my roommates something else, then flat out disappears for OVER A MONTH with no word or anything. Oh, and she stole some of my favorite clothes that i haven't been able to replace since. Another met me during a rough time. She lived in Virginia and I was in Florida, and, as Forrest Gump said, we were like peas and carrots. I even paid more than I really should have to get my tax money early that year to visit her for her birthday. She met me at the airport with a gorgeous plush rose and almost made me cry right there. Her family loved me. However, we had similar issues with our folks, so we were talking about moving in together to help her get out from under her parents. I mailed a box of things that were very important to me up to her, and about 2 weeks later, she vanishes off the face of the planet. She doesn't answer her phone or emails I sent asking if she's ok and what's going on. Her best friend is the one who tells me, after I had figured it out.

All of that combines to make a really *FUN* storm in my head. I'll post more tomorrow night after I've pondered on this some and gotten some sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

masculine vs feminine meme from LJ

YOUR BOY SIDE

(x) You love hoodies

(x) You love jeans.

( ) Dogs are better than cats. (I love them both equally.)

( ) It's hilarious when people get hurt.

(x) You've played with/against boys on a team.

( ) Shopping is torture.

( ) Sad movies suck.

( ) You own an X-Box.

( ) Played with Hotwheels cars as a kid.

( ) At some point in time you wanted to be a fire-fighter.

(x) You own a DS, PS2 or Sega.

(x) You used to be obsessed with Power Rangers. (only seasons 1 and 2...plus the first film)

( ) You watch sports on TV.

( ) Gory movies are cool.

( ) You go to your dad for advice. (mom left when i was 10...)

( ) You own like a trillion baseball caps.

( ) You like going to football games.

( ) You used to/do collect baseball cards.

(x) Baggy pants are cool to wear.

( ) It's kinda weird to have sleepovers with a bunch of people.

(x) Green, black, red, blue, or silver are one of your favourite colours.

(x) You love to go crazy and not care what people think.

( ) Sports are fun.

( ) Talk with food in your mouth.

( ) Wear boxers.

8/25

YOUR GIRL SIDE

(x) You wear lip gloss.

(x) You love to shop.

(x) You wear eyeliner

(x) You have some of the same shirts in different colours.

(x) You wear the colour pink. (i prefer purple as my girly color, so close enough!)

( ) Go to your mom for advice.

( ) You consider cheerleading a sport.

( ) You hate wearing the colour black. (I love black)

(x) You like hanging out at the mall.

(x) You like getting manicures and/or pedicures.

(x) You like wearing jewelery (I collect it, except for earrings)

( ) Skirts are a big part of your wardrobe.

(x) Shopping is one of your favourite hobbies.

( ) You don't like the movie Star Wars. (No. I'm a Trekkie)

( ) You are/were in cheerleading, gymnastics or dance.

(x) It takes you around 1 hour to shower, get dressed, and put on make-up and accessories.

( ) You smile a lot more than you should.

(x) You have more than 10 pairs of shoes.

(x) You care about what you look like.

(x) You like wearing dresses when you can.

(x) You like wearing body spray/perfume/cologne.

(x) You wear girl underwear.

( ) Used to play with dolls as little kid. (more like my little ponies)

(x) Like putting make-up on someone else for the joy of it

( ) Like taking pictures of yourself with your cell phone/camera when you're bored.

16/20

Imbolic Success!

So, the local pagan group celebrated Imbolic early, specifically this past Saturday. There was a healing energy workshop before, where we worked on feeling energy and even touching on the chakras, which is something i've been wanting to look into. I won't publicly go into what i felt from my partner, though I do want to discuss it with my Lady at some point, but the fact that I felt anything at all was pretty cool. (However it's not the success I referred to.)

After that was the ritual. From what I picked up (and can remember, half a week after the fact), Imbolic is about healing and renewing, with spring having already come over the horizon and visibly heading our way even if it's not here yet. So the ritual's meditation involved visiting the goddess Brigid, visiting her home and checking myself against her various implements.. (i remember her swords for sharpness of mind and the fire of her forge for passion and drive, and there was a spring and a flower, but i don't remember what they were compared to). While I do remember that I didn't feel i passed any of them, I know that I'm slowly working towards getting better. It's just a damned roller coaster I have to ride to get there.. i get out of a spiritual and mental doldrum only to find myself flying at breakneck speed and holding on for dear life.

However, the success that I want to talk about is what happened early on in the meditation. It opened with me walking through the forest at night. How something like this typically plays out is that I will see it in first person view, looking through my own eyes into a hazy setting. I don't see myself well, if at all, in anything that I pass. What made this time different was that as I was walking through the forest, I actually pulled back to a third person view. I was very hazy, but, for the first time, I saw myself explicitly as a woman in my mind's eye. It didn't last long, and I couldn't see myself clearly enough to describe myself more than "a woman" but I felt that was something. Maybe trying to see myself is something i should work on. *shrugs* dunno, but i'm a happy kitten for now.